#Post endgame

[sreppub]

Summer fun, lakehouse dilf tony style.....

I think I still have some of these sticker sheets left... sh0p is closed at the moment, but they'll be up whenever I get around to listing all my leftover merch....

[sunnysideprincess]

Steve goes back to an era he has long since forgotten how to be a part of. He goes back because it's too painful to be a part of the future without both his anchor and his home. Their ghosts which follow him through time and keep reminding him of all the things he has lost. Her gentle touch on his shoulders, acting as a reminder and as a tether. And his laughter echoing in the quiet night, letting Steve know his heart's deepest desire.

It's not easy being back in the past, carrying the ghosts of the future and the prophecies of advancement. And for this reason, Howard's warm exuberance at his appearance has morphed into great disdain. He hates the slight touch of mockery in Steve's awe. He hates the kind of man he has turned out to be. Unimpressed by the limitations of Stark's tech.

He hates that Steve seems more enamored with the boy in Maria's arms than the news of more versatile set of guns and ammo. He hates that Steve and Peggy never rekindled their stolen fire, and instead, Peggy was with Sousa, anchored in a way no one had ever seen her.

He hates that Steve disappears one morning and returns with a gloomy red headed girl and pushes her in Maria's open arms. He hates that Steve dives deeper and deeper into shield and fishes out terrible secrets to surface. He hates that this new Captain America brings home a brainwashed soviet soldier wearing the face of their dead friend.

He hates this Steve who so readily accepts Tony's gentleness and dismisses Howard's ideas of an ideal man.

[thedragondawn]

the one that didn't get away - Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Words: 780

Fluff, angst

A/N: This is a belated birthday gift for my dear @iosonoarina 💕💕

taglist: @iosonoarina @stefroutledge @blackwidow-3

taglist || ko-fi

War was over.

The Avengers had won. Well, Thanos was defeated and now it was time to mourn the losses and go back to the world that they had known before the snap. A world that part of Natasha didn’t believe would ever come back.

Now there was hope again. Hope that she would find you home, safe and sound and things would pick up from where you’d left them before Thanos had almost destroyed everything. Hope that she would find you home and that you’d still love her. 

Hope that everything will be okay.

**

“Banner, I’m fine, let me go.” Natasha insisted, wanting to be cleared so she could make it home to her apartment - a place where she’d barely slept as it felt like a haunted museum without you in it. A museum holding the memories you two had made, a museum reminding her of how empty her life was without you.

“You will come back for more testing tomorrow, you hit your head.” 

“My head is fine but yours won’t be if you keep me here.” 

“Fine, fine. Go.” Bruce lifted his arms in defeat.

Natasha stole the keys to one of Tony’s cars and drove off, speeding towards her old apartment. She had no phone on her and the closer she got to that apartment, the more her pulse raced.

Her heart stopped completely when she pulled up in front of the apartment building and saw you emerge from the door.

“Nat..” Nat saw you whisper and ran out of the car, wrapping her bruised body around yours. She started shaking as relief flooded every cell of her body.

“Любимая…” Natasha repeated over and over again as the two of you held each other in the middle of the sidewalk. She didn’t care that her body ached from the long battle, she didn’t care that there was so much that she still needed to do. No. There was you, solid and breathing in her arms. The scent of you enveloping her, your presence finally anchoring her home after so many years of drifting.

You cupped her face gently, scanning and making sure that she was whole, that she wasn’t a dream.

“What happened?” You asked but your question was silenced with a desperate kiss which you reciprocated just as passionately.

“It was a bad time.” Nat caressed your face gently, your heart breaking when you felt her hands shaking against your skin, touching you almost with a reverence.

“I’m here. We’ll handle it.” You reassured her before leading her back into the apartment.

**

Time went on. The two of you were almost inseparable and it came as a huge relief to you when Natasha announced that she will step back from the Avengers. There would be less shadows haunting you two. 

“You’re staring.” Yelena scolded her older sister as you were making tea in the kitchen of your apartment.

“Mind your own business.” Nat bit back playfully.

“You’re so in love, I could puke.” Yelena made a gagging face.

“You’ll find your person too.” Nat winked at her and then moved her gaze back to you.

“I can’t believe that you two made it.” Yelena commented.

“Why?” You asked, looking at your future sister-in-law. The two of you had grown closer in the months after endgame, and in your new home with Natasha, Yelena had her own room, which she joked was as if she was your pet.

“Because the world tried to tear you apart yet you resisted.” 

“No, Thanos tried to tear us apart, we finished his stupid grape face.” Nat argued. 

Her comment made the three of you laugh. There was still lingering darkness from the time of the snap and the final battle, but Nat frequented therapy and you knew that it would all work out.

“So, did you set a date for the big day?” Yelena looked at you and Nat all snuggled up on the couch.

“No, we are not rushing.” 

“Are you tempting fate?” Yelena teased petting your orange cat who plopped herself on the floor next to her.

“She is the one that didn’t get away. There’s no doubt about that.” Natasha smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. She’d had other relationships before meeting you but her soul knew that she’d found home with you the moment she’d laid eyes on you and getting you back was something that she would have given up everything for.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” You teased, even though Natasha could see the tears shining in your eyes.

“Good.” Nat kissed you gently.

“Lord, save me.” Yelena muttered, bursting your little bubble and lightening the mood. 

[irondadfics]

Hi,

I am looking for an IronDad fic in which Peter thinks Tony dies in Endgame, hears his heart stop and dejectedly heads home. What he doesn't realise is that May has moved houses since the first snap and ends up lost.

Meanwhile Tony wakes from coma (he survived), gets angry at the other Avengers for losing his kid, when he saved the universe for him.

In the end they find Peter thanks to Strange and there's bit of whump, because Peter has been hurt and cold.

I was convinced that I had it saved, but apparently I don't or it might have been deleted and I am unable to find it (as I have a memory of a mosquito when it comes to names of fics and authors).

Thank you for doing something like this blog. Saving souls and drying tears of frustration! 😄 You are doing /insert a relevant deity or universal concept/'s work.

J.

hello, could this maybe be your fic?

We Forgot To Tell Peter by inkinmyheartandonthepage

In the chaos of Tony snapping the gauntlet, rushing him to the nearest hospital and the reality of having saved the universe, the Avengers forgot to actually tell Peter that Tony had survived. Now he's missing and nobody can find him to tell him that Tony survived.

[trashblossomart]

Hi! I saw your post looking for request could you do Older Tony ((maybe how he looks now or even his Oppenheimer look) with Steve on the red carpet or an event. Please and thank you ❤️❤️❤️

Tony showing off Steve like actor men they worringly young wives.

Decided to go for a silverfox!tony approach because his vain ass could not handle a receeding hairline, hope you enjoy!

[mydarlingjustbethere]

Peggy Carter’s Residence | 1948

The Day He Came Home

[joetavis]

Post-Endgame AU where Tony (and for good measure Nat) survives and Tony got a metal arm, because the snap destroyed his right arm.

Tony (in the bedroom with Steve): Soo, how hard is it for you not to think of Bucky when I jack you off now?

Steve (mortified): Ok. Get out.

Steve: The arm stays off during sex now!

Tony (putting his metal hand on Steve’s abs): You sure this doesn't awaken anything in ya’?

Steve: I hate you.

[musewrangler]

IT’S A CHEESEBURGER THING

For @fandomjumper247 who is craving fics while AO3 is off to war.

It's not very long, my dear, but I also love IronDad and SpiderSon so---

Set shortly after Endgame where Tony does NOT die. Obviously.

******

"Park your spandex wearing butt right there or so help me, Parker----!"

"Spandex butt," Morgan giggled, and Tony whirled on the five year old.

"Nope, hey. We don't repeat what Dad says when he's upset. You know the rules."

"He's upset all the time," Peter muttered and then quailed under the fierce glare from those brown eyes.

"Morgan!" Tony barked. "Get popsicles!"

"How many?" she asked, tilting her head in an exact imitation of her father. She knew how to negotiate, Peter thought.

"However many you want, Doodlebug. Go."

She trotted out happily as Tony advanced like a predator toward his prey and Peter sank reluctantly onto the sofa.

"What did I say? Hm? What did I say about pursuing this?"

The white scars on the right side of his face were like a lightning spread though the ear had been expertly repaired by the best plastic surgeon in the world. It frankly served to make him look cooler but Peter wasn't telling him that.

"Mr. Stark----" he began.

"Oh HELL no, you did not just 'Mr. Stark' me right now!" Tony snarled at him, poking a finger into his chest. Because he'd designed the suit, he knew exactly where to poke and it immediately retracted, leaving Peter wincing. Tony took this in and drew in a long inhale, like a growing tsunami.

"Friday! How many broken ribs?"

"Invasion of privacy," Peter tried and Tony raised both eyebrows in what Peter privately thought of as his 'Cap' look. It was the one he always gave Steve Rogers when he thought Cap was also pushing too hard.

"No privacy here. My house, my rules. Friday?"

"Seven, Boss."

"SEVEN," Tony repeated, but Peter was feeling it now and the adrenaline of his fight was wearing off. "I swear I am going to let Murdock hear about this," his mentor growled, as Dum-E rolled over with the medkit.

But he was gentle as he pushed Peter back against the cushions and got to work on the abrasions. Peter's spider enhanced healing would serve him well, but it still took time. Tony made him take super strong acetaminophen he'd worked on with Dr. Banner for super hero strength.

"Not much to do about the ribs," he said with real regret. "Which means you have to stay down, kid. Friday, let his Aunt May know, yeah?"

"On it, Boss."

Morgan returned with a very orange mouth and a blue popsicle in process.

"How many---?" Tony began and stopped. "Never mind. What I don't know I can't tell Mom."

"Seven," Morgan informed him helpfully, slurping on the blue one. "You can have some, Pete."

She came to lean over the back of the sofa and pat at his hair gently, already knowing that when he was here like this she had to touch carefully.

"That's okay, Morgs," he said, wincing a little as Tony swiped at the bruises on his face with an antibacterial wipe.

"Sorry," he said, but didn't sound it. It was the thing with Tony though, Peter thought drowsily as Ironman went hunting for the soft blanket, he was all bite even as he did everything possible to make sure the other person was safe and cared for.

Why they loved him after all. Peter and Pepper and Morgan. All of the Avengers.

Tony returned with the velvety soft grey blanket from Peter's room and tucked it around him. It was so warm and delicious.

"Mm, like a happy burrito," Peter slurred sleepily.

He could almost feel Tony's eyeroll.

"Cheeseburger," Morgan corrected. "They're better."

"And that's why your my favorite," Tony said immediately, removing the popsicle stick from her mouth. "All done. Crap, you're going to have such a sugar high."

He lifted his daughter into his arms and seated himself on the fat ottoman beside Peter's head.

"Can we get cheeseburgers?" Morgan asked.

Peter smiled at her.

"It's TWELVE---Nope. ONE FIFTEEN AM," Tony said with force. "And---" he paused.

"I could really put down some cheeseburgers, Mr. Stark," Peter said, the thought of them now making his stomach hurt even more.

There was a long silence.

"Cheeseburgers," Morgan whispered, touching her father's face gently.

Tony closed his eyes briefly and then ducked his head in defeat.

"Yeah okay, you two are awful. Friday, get us some cheeseburgers. Whatever's close and open." He glanced at Peter and pursed his lips in calculation. "Probably twenty."

Peter's mouth curled a little as Friday made the order. If Pepper had been here, no doubt he would be in the Stark's special medical wing of the penthouse they occupied when in the city. And well meaning as she was, Peter preferred Tony's way---the sofa, the blanket and the engineer's hand stroking Peter's curls as they waited for cheeseburgers and Morgan leaned on her father's shoulder, soothing herself by running her finger along one of the scars on his neck from the glove.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark," Peter murmured.

"Yeah, kid," Tony answered. "Still gonna pound Murdock for letting you get involved."

"I woulda anyway," Peter told him. "What we do."

Tony's hand stopped for a moment but then started to run through Peter's hair again.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly as Dum-E trundled in with a large Burger King bag, "it is."

[eccentricgrace]

Toss and Turn || IronDad

summary: tony finds peter walking around the cabin, which is odd, because it is way past bedtime for spidery-teenagers.

tags: post-endgame au, tony stark lives!!, sleep-walking, fluff and humor, tony acting as peter parker's parental figure, hurt/comfort

wc: 2,516

cross-posted to wattpad by the same name!

Tony considered himself an "above-average" light sleeper. He never really stopped to consider how long he'd been like that. It was more of a gradual understanding that he came to, that if there was any kind of sound, even if it was one that his unconscious body made, he would rise up like a feral cat and start planning his defense.

Maybe it started after he was kidnapped, which was well over fifteen years ago now, but sometimes still seemed like yesterday, as most of his mistakes often did.

Maybe it started even younger, with shattered glass bottles and yelling that rattled through walls, or the smell of that damn cologne nearing, the sound of expensive shoes echoing on wooden tile, on asphalt, on carpet—

Nevertheless, he is a light sleeper. It's gotten better over the years, with less unfamiliar noises that would echo throughout the night. Owls yearlong, frogs in the spring, cicadas in the summer, the gentle creaks and groans of a house settling in its space, that had all become natural to him by about the first year they moved in.

Now he woke up to nightmares, first and foremost. His, of course, which dredge up acid from his stomach and tears from his eyes, and a cold sweat that sticks to his clothes and hair— but also Morgan's.

His daughter, who had nightmares about as often as any other kid (Tony researches religiously about anything that could possibly be out of the ordinary, anything he may have done wrong) sometimes woke from her nightmares with quiet tears— and Tony would subsequently wake to furniture being gently knocked around by a sleepy girl trying to get to mom and dad.

That's what he assumed to be happening tonight, when he gets woken up by a soft thud in the hallway.

Tony pushed himself out of bed, wincing at the pull it gave on his 'arm', all synthetic, but the connecting joint still in the long process healing. He glanced at Pepper, still fast asleep beside him, and let himself feel in love for a moment longer before he left the room.

He stepped quietly on the wooden panels of the floor, opening the door slowly as to not startle Morgan who would be on the other side. There's a darkness he has to squint through in the hallway, all shadows and grey splotchy objects of space where furniture should lay— but immediately he could tell that it was indeed not his daughter who had woken him up tonight.

Tony flicked the hallway lamp on. A dim, orange light cast over the scene. Peter's lanky figure is swaying silently on his feet, his head tilted downwards as he looked intensely at the floor.

"You alright?" Tony asked immediately, his voice groggy. He's already scanning the kid for injuries— a limp, maybe, or some kind of twisted limb— but nothing is sticking out in any odd places or swollen.

"Mh," Peter grunted. "Fixing it."

Tony blinked the sleep out of his eyes and made a face of displeasure as he looked over at Peter's late-night workings.

Peter didn't stay over at the cabin all the time. Maybe once or twice every few weeks, which is still far more than Tony imagined he could have had before, but still wasn't enough to settle that old, parental spark in his chest that cried out, as it had for so, so long, about missing him.

He was... adjusting still, to everything. Tony understood. The whole scenario in of itself was impossibly difficult from any end of it. Losing someone like that for five years, it drove Tony to an emptiness that he wouldn't wish on anyone except those who caused it. (And Thanos was gone. Killed twice over. It still never feels like enough.)

But for Peter, it was a different breed of horror. Different beast. He couldn't imagine how it would feel, thinking you've died, only to wake up missing a chunk of something as valuable as time. A chunk from everyone else's life gone, with you left to try and understand the pieces. Like a coma designed personally by Hell.

Simply put, it was difficult for him to be over here. Tony wasn't stupid, he knew that. He would look at the kid, sometimes, and just see something strayed. Lost, like he didn't know where he fit in. Pepper said it would take time before the teenager would feel like he belonged in the world again, and as much as Tony hated the honesty in it, Pepper was always right. He knew patience was the only medicine for this.

Being patient didn't stop him from worrying. Which is what he was doing now, of course: worrying if Peter had a nightmare, or if he couldn't sleep and was trying to distract himself with meaningless tasks around the house.

"Well, whatever you did worked wonders, I think it's fixed," Tony said gently, looking over the completely unchanged vase. "Mind telling me what you're doing out of bed? Whatever prompted this midnight excursion, huh?"

"It's," Peter started, his speech stilted. He frowned deeply with concentration, then looked up at Tony. "You're not leaving without me."

Tony paused. Carefully, he put one hand on Peter's shoulder, another staying at his chin to keep him from moving around. His mind full of concern as he took stock of Peter's dazed, distant, glassy-eyed expression, the way his eyelashes fluttered slowly, the sleepy turning of his cheeks. His pupils weren't crazy dilated, they weren't red or bloodshot any more than they usually were with Peter's unpredictable sleep schedule. Tony mentally crossed off drugs or alcohol, to an embarrassing bout of relief.

"No," he answered, tilting his head to the side. "I'm not leaving without you, kiddo. Why would you think that?"

Peter swayed again on his feet, tilting forward and looking a second away from swan diving. Tony's other arm shot up to steady him, immediately wincing from the pain that resulted from such a sharp movement.

"Mgh," Peter muttered. He dropped his head into Tony's chest with a thud, sweaty curls of hair pressed against a faded MIT shirt. He didn't answer the question, instead deciding to snuggle himself closer, lean his full weight against Tony's side until he was slumped over and making muffled sleepy sounds into Tony's shoulder.

Tony's hand came up to cradle the kid's head instinctively. He frowned, running his fingers through his hair and untangling the locks with a distracted diligence. A thought came to him. "Peter, are you awake right now?"

Peter pulled away from Tony and stumbled away with movements that weren't so different from a marionette on strings— clumsy, up-and-down steps, with the illusion that something as thin and slight as a string was all that held his weight.

He stopped at the end of the hallway, fully turned around, and stared at Tony with wide, expectant eyes.

Tony confirmed in his head that, yes, Peter was sleep-walking. He also confirmed that yes, he would be going on whatever adventure the sleeping teenager wanted him to apparently go on. He followed him down the hallway.

'Down the hallway' turned into 'down the stairs', which Peter was surprisingly graceful at navigating. Peter had stopped again, next to the fridge, and just stood there without making a sound.

Tony quietly took a seat at the counter as he watched, making sure Peter wouldn't be getting himself into any kind of danger, and smiled with amusement as Peter's eyes drifted closed, then opened again a few moments later.

Peter opened the fridge.

"Hm," Tony hummed. "You hungry?"

"Gotta." Peter reached in, then pulled out a bottle of yellow mustard, turning it over in his hands, and then walking back to the counter to drop it there. He went back to the open fridge, reached his hand in again. Pulled out a vanilla pudding cup, the ones Pep bought for the kids' snack times, and dropped it in the same place.

"Mustard and pudding, huh? That one of May's recipes?"

Peter ignored him  in favor of walking back to the fridge. He retrieved the entire jar of mayonnaise, then trudged over to the silverware jar. Tony hid a smile in the crook of his fingers.

Imagine his surprise when the kid dawdled back over to very solemnly hand him said mayonnaise jar, as well as a comically large spoon that Tony didn't even remember they had.

"Oh, for me?" Tony asked. He took the mayonnaise, setting it on the counter. "Thank you so much. How did you know this was my favourite?"

"Best," Peter responded. "Best at the job. I won. And... And taxes."

Tony put up a valiant effort not to chuckle. "You'll have to tell me all about that when you wake up, then."

Peter nodded seriously, his eyes half-lidded as he sat down next to Tony at the counter. He opened the bottle of mustard and turned it over, for some mysterious and unknown reason began to shake it, and then put it back down on its side.

He honestly should be studied in a lab, Tony thought. Nobody else's kid was as interesting as this. And if they were, then no they weren't. Tony just simply refused to believe it.

"I have to buy alligators," Peter mumbled, picking up the cup of vanilla pudding and fumbling clumsily with the wrapper.

Tony carefully plucked the pudding cup away from him and set it farther away. He didn't know too much about sleepwalking, so he figured it was better safe than sorry on whether or not Peter would or should even be able to eat it while still... asleep.

"Oh, really?" He asked. "Alligators?"

Peter stared offensively at his empty hands, and looked up at Tony with his mouth wide open and his nose screwed up in irritation.

"Oh, ok. Didn't like that," Tony noted. "Well, how about I promise you that when you wake up, you can have all the pudding you want."

Peter's eyebrows furrowed and he turned to his hands, still looking wildly offended at the apparent theft. His frown deepened. "No..."

Tony stared uselessly. After a moment, he patted Peter on the hand. "Sorry."

Peter grunted. Then he gasped. He stood abruptly, the chair squeaking against the tile. "Uh oh."

"Uh oh?" Tony's heart skipped a beat. He scans over the kid again, thinking maybe he missed something—

"I'm late," Peter said cryptically. "Gonna... got to go."

With that, he started at an alarmingly fast pace for the front door. Tony swore and slid as quickly out of the chair as he could, wincing as he did so.

He followed Peter down the hallway, and then Peter just— he was pacing back and forth, it seemed, whispering under his breath in a sleep-addled panic. He had grabbed a photo frame from the shelf set up at the entrance and was holding it in his hands.

Tony put a gentle hand on his elbow. "Hey, buddy," he tried. "How 'bout we get you back to bed?"

Peter jerked away from him, and Tony moved like he had hurt the kid by accident, his hands lurching back in alarm. Then Peter stalled, and swayed again on his feet. All that could be heard for a moment was the kid's quiet breathing.

Then, so quietly, he spoke. "Wait for me?"

Tony blinked rapidly as he processed the words. When he realized he was being asked a question directly, Peter's glassy eyes boring into his, he frowned. "Wait for what?"

Regardless, the answer was yes. Yes, always yes. Should anything happen, he would wait. Until both of their bodies have been reclaimed by the earth, Tony would still be there, waiting for his kid to come home to him. It's been proven, written in the stars with the destruction of alien ships and engine exhaust, that he would wait. Five years. Ten years. Ten hundred years. Forever.

Still, Peter's sleeping face looked so heartbroken now, and he whispered his next words just loud enough for Tony's old ears to catch them.

"For me to catch up."

It's so painfully innocent. He's pleading, he's desperate, even in his sleep.

Tony glanced down at the photo frame Peter still held in his hands— catching the glimpse of the two of them, five years younger, five years closer.

"Kid," Tony choked out.

Peter pressed the photo frame to his own chest, hugging it tight. He pulled away from Tony, slipping around him and trudging back up the stairs.

Tony's hand lay cold in the air, but after a brief moment of reining his tears back in, he followed Peter to the cabin's second floor.

The hallway was empty, but Peter's bedroom door was cracked open. Tony quietly pushed it open, and Peter was standing dazedly in the middle of it.

"Something new on the itinerary?" Tony asked hoarsely, his throat tight, his heart hurting.

Peter seemed to jump out of his skin, whipping his head around in alarm, and oh. This wasn't how asleep-Peter acted. He would know, as they've just been introduced fairly recently.

"Well, hello there. Good morning," Tony said, leaning against the doorframe. He made himself sound amused as possible.

"What is happening," Peter whispered loudly, his eyes wide. He still was hugging the damn photo to his chest. "Was I asleep standing up? Like a... like a horse?"

"Oh, you weren't just standing," Tony informed. Knowing now that Peter didn't seem to remember any of the events that happened while he slept, he gave him an easy smile. "You went on a whole rodeo, cowboy."

Peter's face went red, and he looked momentarily horrified. "What?"

"Yep. House-round trip, I'm afraid." Tony casually took the photo from him, and Peter, who was still dazed, let it go without hardly noticing. "You should get some actual rem sleep now. Maybe I'll invest in some bells around your door handle."

Peter hid his face in his hands and groaned. "That's so embarrassing. Please tell me you didn't get photos."

Tony smiled, running a hand through Peter's hair. "Hm, no, not this time. Next time for sure though. It's about time I started a new album, I think."

Peter leaned into the touch like moldable dough, which Tony took as his cue to gently guide him back to bed. They scuttled across the room, Peter noticeably more clumsily than him, and Tony lifted the covers.

(It seemed asleep-Peter either had the courtesy to make the bed after he got out of it, or, the more depressing possibility, awake-Peter had fallen asleep without getting into the bed at all.)

"Can we just—" Peter shook his head miserably. "—forget this? Ever happened? Like, all of it?"

"Hmm, let me think about it." Tony tapped his chin thoughtfully. "No."

He played it up like a joke, because that's what they're used to, the two of them. Banter, the back-and-forth, the easiness of it all. The photo frame burned in Tony's hand.

No, he wouldn't forget tonight. And tomorrow morning, once his kid has gotten a good eight hours, and a good meal, they'll talk about it. They'll keep talking about it until Tony is 100% sure that he gets it, the lengths he'd go for him, the hardships he'd endure to keep him safe— the time he'd lose for Peter to be safe and sound and himself, just the way he is.

That, he would wait for him.

But, he didn't have anything to wait for.

[sreppub]

i cant remember if i posted this already but i came across it in my gallery yesterday and thought it was cute 🥰 cozy lakehouse tony

[yoooitsemmers]

ok but like imagine-

Tony leaving Peter a message to Peter like the one for Morgan and pepper at the end of endgame. And it’s about how proud of him Tony is. Tony, knowing Peter, repeats “it’s not your fault” because it’s Peter and Peter will somehow blame himself for everything. And Tony knows Peter so he knows that he’ll through himself into self destruction for the “greater good” so he tells him to take a break from spider-man. And Tony knows because Peter is so much like himself when he was younger, and that’s exactly what he’d do. He tells Peter not to loose sight of himself, to not become vengeful, because he knows what that’s like. He tells Peter that he loves him.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Sambucky for the prompt thingie, sitting in their lap 🥰

From these prompts

Oooh, nice choice 👀 What about a little post-endgame fic?

Sitting in His Lap

The quinjet jostled.

And.

Sam was usually pretty good on his feet. He had very good balance. He was a gymnast once.

But.

At the same time.

Sam was drunk. He was drunk and they had just saved the world, the universe, and he had only wandered into the quinjet to get a little breather from the party outside.

Sam had expected to land on the bench of seating inside the quinjet. What he found was something much softer.

"Sam?"

Oh.

"Bucky?" asked Sam, turning to face the man he had just - well.

Fell into the lap of. Literally. Buck stared at Sam with those intense eyes of his and - and Sam couldn't breathe. He couldn't look away. It was like that European Tour all over again; the small moments of almost. It was like the brief rest times Sam had in Birnin Zana; the touch, the closeness that was all Sam wanted when they were alone. It was like when those lips almost met his right before that final battle.

"Looking for a place to escape the party for a while too?" murmured Bucky softly, his gaze flittering between Sam's eyes and Sam's mouth.

Sam.

Wrapped his arms around Bucky's neck.

Because.

They just saved the world. The universe. Maybe Sam could take one leap of faith here. Be selfish for once.

"Only if you're there," said Sam as he leaned close to give Bucky a kiss; chaste and hesitant, and okay, maybe Sam was a little nervous to push this boundary.

But.

But Bucky deepened it. Like this was a relief. Like this was what he was waiting for. Like this was all he ever needed too.

And Sam got lost in that kiss.

Got lost in so much more.

The party, but a distant memory in Bucky's arms.

[irondadfics]

hello!!!

I’m looking for this fic where Tony and peter somehow get lost in space or at least are in space for a really long time and they eventually come home and nobody even knows that they came back and sort of like this really long, fic of them living in different planets and growing older because they cant make it back home yet and then come back to earth and drive back home with like a roadtrip thing

is this the one?

Survivor's Guide to The Galaxy by fanfic1892

Space rock crunched under Peter’s armor-clad feet and he dropped his hand from his eyes, turning to Tony. "Mister Stark," he said softly. "What do we do now?” The question was entirely reasonable, Tony supposed, but being the one expected to answer it was like an infinity gauntlet punch to the gut. (Now there was a unit of measurement he could submit to the CGPM.) Or: In a billion-to-one cosmic fluke, Tony and Peter both survive the snap and are left alone on Titan with an alien spaceship and no plan in sight. Peter’s presence brings Tony to make a tough call: diverting their course away from Earth in search of food and fuel. With the galaxy in shambles and no clear route home, the two survivors must carve out a path of their own somewhere in the great infinity.

[lilydreaming13]

Were we confident that Steve informed Peggy that he was in the future when he went back in time to 1949? We think he told her everything, but it's unclear if he told her the complete truth or if he mentioned the word 'future' or the years '2011' and '2023.'

[natashaslesbian]

Hoodie

Summary: Natasha Romanoff sacrificed her life for her daughter. Now living with the Barton’s, y/n asks Clint a difficult question.

Word count: 462

Pairings: Little/kid Reader x Clint Barton / Daughter reader x Natasha Romanoff

Just pure sadness tbh<\3 (lil fluff tho)

Warnings: Death(no details just talk of heaven/afterlife)

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“Uncle Clint?” Little y/n’s sleepy voice called out to her mamas best friend“Yeah darling?” Clint asked “Did mommy hurt when she left us?” Silence fell upon the pair. Clint had hoped these questions wouldn’t arise until later but although y/n was only 6, she was a smart little girl. She didn’t fully understand death yet, but she knew mommy wasn’t coming home.

“No kiddo, she didn’t hurt” Clint spoke, breaking the silence. The crack of his voice matching those in the walls “What happened when the angels came for her?” The little redhead asked. Clint sighed. He didn’t particularly believe in heaven and hell, nor did Natasha, but he had to provide some comfort to his niece. He didn’t like to lie, but how could this little girl understand that her mommy fell off a cliff on a different planet? Maybe heaven wasn’t that far of a reach.

“Well” Clint cleared his throat “mommy had to lay down, because she was tired, and then she closed her eyes. She got to see all of the beautiful things in her life, so I bet all she saw was you” a small giggle came from y/n “when she opened her eyes again, the angels were there and they told your mommy that she had to go with them” “So she could became and angel too?” Said y/n “Yeah” Clint continued “so they picked her up and carried her to heaven, where they gave her her wings. So she could come back down to see you…as an angel. You know she’s always watching over you, and she’s always with you” “I know she is” y/n spoke, sleep beginning to gather in her voice.

“Do you still see her?” Clint asked “Sometimes” the 6 year old said with eyes half closed “what if I forget about her?” “Oh sweetheart, you’ll never forget mommy, none of us will. We’ll keep talking about her and visiting her in the woods where she rests” Clint glanced over to y/n’s closet “you want mommy’s hoodie tonight?” The little Romanoff nodded. Clint passed the young girl Natasha’s favourite hoodie. A grey zip up one, with a cat sewn on the front to cover the hole Tony had blasted through it while testing his new suit. Y/n instantly latched onto the fabric, bringing the sleeve to her mouth to gently suckle on. She curled right up into it and inhaled what little of Natasha’s scent remained on the piece of clothing. She was immediately soothed and fell asleep moments later. The spitting image of how Natasha used to curl up next to her when she was a baby.

“Sleep tight y/n” Clint whispered. He walked to the window, to draw the curtains. And there he saw it. A shooting star. Natasha. He smiled.

————

This one hurt :(

- Astara🩷

[toastyeverlark]

- set after endgame battle, and nat is alive! romanogers drabble for ya :)

The fight had concluded, at long last. They won. Things were slowly falling back into place, though they would never be the same again.

Tony had agreed to let a few of them stay over at his place until they found somewhere to settle in. Morgan was the happiest with the decision - having ‘two-week uncles and aunties’ staying with them meant that she had more people to include in her tea parties.

The ‘two-week’ detail was especially emphasized by Tony, who hoped that they could get out of his hair in two weeks or less.

For Morgan’s tea party of the day, Steve had assumed the role of Mr Steve who likes strawberry cake and grape jam. It was Morgan’s favorite - everyone else got to change their roles but it was already Day 3 of Mr Strawberry Cake Grape Jam Steve.

“Mr Steve, here is your strawberry cake,” Morgan said importantly, setting down a plate with a strawberry cake plushie on top of it.

“Thank you, Morgan,” Steve smiled. “It’s exactly how I like it.”

”No, Mr Steve, you need to call me Missy Morgan,” frowned Morgan, who quickly moved on to Sam who was sitting at the other end of the table, awaiting instructions.

“How’s the cake?”

Steve turned to see Natasha, her arms crossed, leaning on the wall for support. She was smiling, trying not to laugh at the comically large rattan hat on his head that Morgan had definitely found in the garage.

“Actually Nat,” Steve got up as slowly as possible to avoid being noticed, “I think it’s your turn for tea.”

Morgan didn’t seem to care - she was busy reprimanding Sam for moving her teddy bear away and sitting in that spot instead.

Natasha poured a glass of water from the flask on the table and offered it to Steve.

“Something’s on your mind,” he took the glass and looked at her thoughtfully as she poured another one for herself.

“Are you really saying that? After all that’s happened?” she laughed.

“Yeah, sorry. Kinda hard to believe we fought some aliens just a few days ago. But then again, what’s new?”

Natasha rubbed her hip, where she had sustained an injury earlier.

“How’s your injury?”

She shook her head. “Nothing that can’t be healed in a couple days. What’s the plan for the stones?”

Steve took a long sip of the water. “I’m going to return them. Tony and the others are getting things ready.”

Natasha nodded, looking towards the lake outside the window.

“Why’d you ask if you already know what I’m going to do?”

She didn’t respond for a few moments, then looked at him, her eyes wet. “I guess I was just hoping that I would be wrong.”

Morgan had discovered his escape, and was already running over to get him back to the tea party.

“Nat,” Steve moved towards her, but she quickly walked off.

“Mr Steve?” Morgan pulled at his finger gently, to which he responded with a smile.

Natasha retreated to the guest room and sat on the edge of the bed, letting the tears run down her cheeks. She had always known what he was going to do. Steve had told her once, a long time ago, that if he ever had a chance to go back in time, he would choose to be with Peggy a thousand times over. Now that the opportunity presented itself so perfectly in front of him, it seemed almost foolish if he didn’t take it.

She didn’t know why her heart stung so much now that the moment came at last. It wasn’t supposed to.

Perhaps it was because of everything they had been through together, and she had held on to the little hope that he would choose her in the end. Stupid hope.

“Bad day?”

Natasha wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, “Didn’t know it was that obvious. What happened to the tea party?”

Sam made himself comfortable on the armchair next to the bed. “Oh you know, Steve’s doing all the work for me.”

Natasha smiled, and they sat in silence for a while.

“You should tell him.”

“And, just so we’re thinking about the same thing…”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

“Actually, Sam, I’m establishing communication here, in case you couldn’t tell.”

“Okay, genius. I’m telling you, you need to tell him how you feel about him. He needs to hear it from you. I’ve been Blipped for what, five years? I’ve been trying to say something about the two of you way before that, but no one ever listened.”

“So what if I do? It’s not going to change anything.”

Sam looked at her in exasperation. “Why do you keep thinking he doesn’t value you?”

“I know he values me,” Natasha sighed. “But it’s different from how he sees Peggy.”

“How do you know that? You’re here lecturing me about communication, but you can’t bring yourself to make this clear with him?”

She looked at him then, and his previously annoyed gaze softened.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Sam put up his hands to surrender, and got up. “I can’t force this, but I really needed you to hear it.”

Natasha nodded. “Thanks.”

He made his way awkwardly to the door, as if unsure whether he should leave her alone or not. “Feel free to join us at the tea party.”

“Maybe later.”

Then she was left alone to ponder about all the new questions in her head.

Natasha had wanted to stay in the house while the rest of them prepared the site for Steve and accompanied him there, but she knew she would regret it if she didn’t say goodbye. She decided that the pain of seeing him leave was more bearable than not getting to.

Sam seemed to know, because he intentionally popped by her room the day of.

“They’re heading down to the lake in a bit. I told Tony that I’ll be coming with Bucky.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“You coming with us?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I am.”

“Okay buddy, just remember, you have to return each stone to the exact moment it was taken. You’ve got all the time in the world, so just - be careful, okay?” Bruce reminded Steve for what seemed like the twentieth time that morning.

“Actually, I didn’t quite get that right, could you say it again?” Tony quipped, before getting elbowed by Bruce.

Steve made eye contact with Natasha then, and made his way over to her.

“See you in a minute,” he smiled.

“Eh, it’ll take less than that. He’ll be back in 5 seconds,” Tony chimed in.

“Yeah,” Natasha took a shaky breath, “I’ll see ya.”

There seemed to be a flood of tears fighting to break through. She had said her goodbyes, and so she decided that it was enough.

She finally let the tears roll down her cheeks when Bruce called Steve back to get ready, and made her way towards the lake, away from the group.

“She okay?” Bucky, who had noticed her leaving, nudged Sam.

“Just let her be.”

“Okay, go on Quantum, in 3, 2, 1. Returning in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.”

Natasha stooped by the lake, watching her reflection in the water, taking many shaky breaths as the tears continued flowing. She might have cried enough to fill up the lake if her body allowed it.

She wondered where he was at that moment in time. Probably happy and contented somewhere, having lived a beautiful life with the woman of his dreams. And there she was, crying over someone who had already lived his life and would not be part of hers ever again.

“That’s a lot of tears.”

Steve was standing beside her in the water’s reflection, and for a moment, she thought she was hallucinating.

“What is this, Romanoff, I’m gone for 5 seconds and you can’t recognise me?”

She lunged towards him so hard, he almost fell over in their embrace.

“You came back,” she sobbed into his chest, hugging him tighter than she had ever hugged anyone.

He stroked her hair comfortingly and kissed the top of her head.

“Can’t you be apart from me for 5 seconds even?” Steve teased.

“I thought you left,” she cried, “I know how much…Peggy means to you. I thought I was prepared for what you’d do when the time came, but I guess I never was. And I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

“Look at me, Nat,” Steve whispered. “I loved Peggy, and yes, there was a time in my life that I was certain I would live my life with her. But she was in my past, and even though I had the chance to redo everything, I don’t want to leave behind the present, because you’re in it.”

He gently placed his hands on the sides of her face. “I love you, Natasha Romanoff. And it’ll always be you.”