#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. 

[olsenmyolsen]

I'm Free Tonight

master list

dark master list

MCU Compliant (Female Reader X Carol Danvers)

Summary: A lovely stranger saves you from a boring Christmas Gala.

Word Count: 2.8K

Content: Just Fluff

"You alone?"

You looked up from your seat at the round table and saw the blue eyes of a blonde you'd never seen before.

She wore a beautiful maroon and blue dress with a gold chest piece. Your dress looked silly in comparison, no matter how much your girlfr- ex girlfriend(?) paid for it.

And she wasn't cheap.

An heiress, some would call her.

Others used the word bitch.

You tore your eyes away from the blonde and gestured to a woman at the bar. Clearly drunk and openly flirting with one of the groomsmen. "Supposed to be with her."

The blonde looked where you pointed, and the curiosity on her face turned into one of disappointment.

Followed by a smirk.

"Well, I'm Carol. Carol Danvers." The blon- Carol switched her champagne flute from her right to her left hand. She extended the right to you when you looked up to her.

"Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N." You shook her hand and were surprised to feel a tight grip. You quickly realized how strong Carol was as you checked out the definition and muscles on her arms. "May I?" Carol pointed to the seat to the left of you. "Go ahead." You said with a smile that Carol reciprocated.

Carol also chose this seat so you'd be facing away from the bitch that left you alone.

You turned away from the bar and towards Carol. "How do you know the couple hosting?" Carol asked. "I don't. My date does."

That made sense. Since Carol noticed you hours earlier, she couldn't figure out how you wound up at a place like this. Surrounded by people whose hands were never clean. Politicians and models. Wall Street bros and CEO's. You stuck out—a ray of innocence and good radiated from you. Kind hearted.

Carol knew it to be true when she saw how awful your date treated you.

"Ah," Carol said as she lifted the glass and took a sip of the golden bubbles. "I hope you don't mind me asking... Who is she? Your date?" Carol set her glass down and looked at you in the eyes. "Oh, her name is-"

"Oh no, I'm sorry." Carol stopped you as she reached a hand out to your arm. "I meant, who is she to you."

It felt like a trick question, like Carol knew the truth.

Carol kept her fingers resting on your arm while waiting for your eyes to meet hers. "She's..."

You sighed.

Carol patted your arm. "Think about it." She removed her touch from you, and you missed her warm fingers.

You watched as they wrapped around the glass of champagne. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not supposed to be here," Carol spoke up with a shrug.

"You're not?" Carol watched your forehead crease when you didn't believe her. "No. I'm here doing a favor for a friend." You looked around the room, and like Carol did with you earlier, you couldn't believe someone like her could be here. "What friend?" You asked, making Carol smile.

"The King of Asgard, Valkyrie." She said casually without hesitation.

"Oh!" You said, surprised and bewildered. "I still have yet to visit New Asgard.." You really have been meaning to, but it's not like money grows on trees for you. "I hear it's lovely."

"It is," Carol replies. "So.." Carol leans closer. "Are you done thinking about my question from earlier? What is she..." Carol gestures to the woman you came here with. "..to you. Because she sure as hell isn't your girlfriend."

You followed Carol's eyes and saw the woman kissing the neck of a man you wouldn't give the time of day.

You turned back and looked at Carol.

You sighed and put both arms on the table in a defeated position. "I was her date for tonight, but no, I've never met her until two days prior when I was introduced by her team. I was hired to help clean up her image, but..." You looked back. "Looks like that's not happening."

Carol hummed. "So you're an escort?"

"Blunt, but yes... that's one word for it." You replied. Carol leaned back into her chair and appreciated the honesty coming from you.

"How much did she pay you?"

You certainly weren't expecting that question, and you couldn't tell by the smirk Carol was hiding behind her glass if she was serious or not.

So you decided to forget about the girl you came with and play the game Carol was hopefully playing.

"Why? Think you can afford me?"

That made the blonde laugh. "I know I can." Her voice was lower as she spoke to you. "But I'm not looking to pay. I want you if you want to come along."

That made something in your stomach twirl.

"And where would we go?"

"Wherever you want. But hopefully far away from here."

You peeled your eyes away from the blonde and looked around the room. It was dreadful and boring. This was presented as a Christmas gala, but it was nothing more than a night to fuck and make business deals to everyone else but you.

You were here for a job, but you were clearly left to your own devices.

Until Carol showed up.

"Okay." You said as you turned back to the blonde and nodded. "Let's get out of here."

Carol's eyes lit up. She watched you stand up and down your glass of champagne before extending your hand to her. Carol did the same with her glass before taking your hand. "Thank you." She smiled as she rose to her feet. "No, thank you!"

Carol led you out of the grand mansion you couldn't for the life of you remember the name of and to the valet kiosk. Carol handed the greying man a ticket stub and wrapped her arm around you as you two waited for his return.

"Is this okay?" She asked, forcing you to look up to her eyes. "Me... touching you? Holding you?" You nodded. "It's great." Carol smiled. "Good to know."

Carol felt your skin become scattered with goosebumps. She thought it might've been from the cold wind in the air, but if asked, you would've been honest and told her it was because of her—the blonde with her hand moving up and down your arm.

She smiled.

You two stood in silence, accepting the comfort the other one brought when the valet pulled up in a black sports car that would never be in your tax bracket.

"What a beautiful car, Miss. Please enjoy your evening." The man said to Caol as he handed her the keys before scurrying away.

She simply smirked and moved her arm from around you to your arm closest to her. "Shall we?" You nodded and let Carol lead you to the passenger door. She opened it for you and let go of you as you entered.

She watched the slit of your dress rise as you sat down in the brown leather seat. Her eyes then traveled down to your legs and the heels that went perfectly with your dress. "Good?" She then asked. "Good." You replied before Carol smiled and closed the door.

You watched her move around the front of the car and slide into the driver's seat. The seat adjusted to her, and you watched the steering wheel move to compliment her. "Wow." Carol turned to your voice.

"Kind of a lot, right?" You shrugged and looked into her blue eyes. "It's kinda cool." You tried to be nonchalant, but you were in awe of everything, and Carol knew it.

Carol hit some buttons on the display in the middle and found a radio station playing a pop hit.

Olivia Rodrigo specifically.

The music was kept at a lower volume as Carol waited for you to buckle up. "Safety first, sweetheart." She said, making your stomach flip at the pet name. "Sorry." You mumbled as your cheeks grew red, and Carol buckled herself up before turning up the heat and placing the car in drive.

"You hungry?" Carol hadn't eaten any of the fancy shit the gala was offering. It was all themed around the holiday, and she knew for a fact that you hadn't had a single bite.

You wanted to lie, but with Carol asking in a honey-dripping tone, and one look at her made you nod. "Starving." You said.

However, food wasn't the first thing you were thinking about eating.

Carol smirked as if she could read your mind.

She removed her right hand from the steering wheel and placed it on your thigh as she kept her eyes on the road. The speed of the car picking up.

Her palms on your skin burned with waves of pleasure. "I'll find somewhere for us," Carol said, making you nod. Carol briefly looked over at you and smiled.

She was loving the game that was being played.

In addition, she loved the touch of you. The feeling of your goosebumps spreading across your body every time her fingers lifted up and down your soft, ample skin.

She was also enjoying you—your company.

Carol never got to do stuff like this.

But she was making the most of tonight.

"Is this still okay?" Carol asked as her hand moved slightly up your thigh. Pushing your dress up. "Yes." You said as you buried a moan in your throat.

"Do I feel good? My touch against your body?" Carol asked as she turned her head to you. She watched your side profile nod and swallow before you parted your pink lips. "You feel so good, Carol."

Her blue eyes found the road again.

"Good, sweetheart." Carol patted your thigh and kept you wanting more. "You're doing so well for me."

You whimpered upon hearing the praises of a woman you just met. "Ah, here we go," Carol said, making you do your best to focus on what was worth pulling off the side of the road.

Surprised, you looked at Carol as she put the car in park.

Carol turned to you.

"What's wrong?" She unbuckled her seatbelt and brought a hand up to your face. Moving a hair behind your ear. "You said you were starving." You leaned into her touch ever so slightly and nodded. "I am."

"Then let's eat." Carol smiled and removed her touch from you again as she climbed out of the car.

You kept your eyes on Carol as she closed the door. You watched her pass in front of the neon 24/7 Diner sign before she made it to your passenger door. She opened it and quickly helped you out. "It's somehow gotten colder. Come on." Her hand and fingers became intertwined with yours as she pulled you to the front of the restaurant.

You two seated yourselves in a booth once you entered like a bunch of giggly teenagers.

There was only the waitstaff and three other patrons inside. You and Carol were obviously dressed the best.

"This definitely beats the Gala," Carol said, making you look up from your menu with a smile. "It does."

Carol placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hand. "Tell me something," Carol said with a teasing smirk. "Are you enjoying how the night has gone?"

You dropped your menu onto the table. "I'm loving it. Thank you."

Carol shook her head. "No, thank you." Her leg rubbed up against yours in a gentle manner. "Now, what are you thinking about having?" Carol's eyes found the menu again, but you stared straight ahead.

Carol knew it.

"They don't have me on the menu." You brushed your leg higher against Carol. "Shame. Because I'd love a taste."

You were bold, and you didn't know where it was coming from, but tonight, with Carol, you felt free. You weren't being paid to be someone else. You felt like a new person. Or maybe it was just you being yourself? Regardless, you loved it.

After a waitress came by, you and Carol Danvers ordered cheeseburgers with a basket of fries and a shake, to split, obviously.

The food was wonderful, and the flirting mixed in with conversation was even better.

The highlight might have been when you showed Carol that you could, in fact, tie a cherry stem into a knot in your mouth. You held it between your teeth with pride as Carol smirked at you and, without warning, connected your lips together. Her tongue swiping the stem out of your mouth and into hers.

When she smiled a few seconds later, the knot was undone, and Carol couldn't help but wink at you.

You felt your stomach flip again.

"Whenever you're ready to leave, we can," Carol said to you, only to earn a nod.

Carol laughed at that and stood up as she placed a stack of uncounted bills from her clutch.

"Okay, so maybe you could afford me for the night." You said, taking Carols' hand as you slid out of the booth. "I told you." She smugly replied as she led you out of the diner.

The cold air catching you off guard, but your grip on Carols' hand remained strong. "Come on." She squeezed your hand and bit back a smile before you two ended up on the driver's side of the car.

Carol held the key in her other hand.

"What?" You asked as Carol looked at your eyes. "You're just beautiful." The blonde said, moving her body to be pressed up against yours.

You stumbled a step back as you found your back up against Carols car.

"Is this still okay?" Carols breath was shaky as she held her lips dangerously close to yours.

In the neon glow of the diner sign, you nodded. "Just kiss me again." Carol held in a moan as she did what you asked. The softness of her lips landed on yours.

You pulled her body closer.

Her hands found your hips and squeezed them, making you squeal in delight. "Fuck Carol!" You laughed into Carols mouth.

"Oh, you're such a pretty girl," Carol replied in a hushed tone as she pushed her front up against you more. Feeling the tremble in your legs and warmth from your pussy.

But the sweetest bit was the taste of chocolate on your lips.

"I want you." You moaned into Carols ear.

Carol couldn't be happier. "I want you too." She kissed your neck, jaw, and lips again.

You bit your lips and looked up at her. "Let's go then." You turned around and pressed your ass against Carol and made a gesture for the car keys, but Carol smiled before laughing. "Oh, no, baby. I don't think so."

You tilted your head as you were still catching your breath. "And why is that?" You opened the car door and waited for Carol's answer.

That's when you watched Carol's hand curl and close around the key. Suddenly, her hand began to glow bright and orange. You couldn't believe what you were seeing, and when she opened her hand again, the key was nothing but a pile.

You waited for an answer.

"Remember that story I told you? About the pilot?"

Carol tilted her hand, and you both watched the remnants of the key fall to the asphalt.

You looked up to Carol and thought back to the story she told you across the booth earlier. "So it was you? You have powers?" Carol nodded and made her hands glow again. "What about your car?" You asked honestly.

"The car and cash were never mine." The glow from her hands faded as she stepped into space between your legs. "It was your awful heiress of a date."

Carol touched the top of your head and ran her hand down the side of your face. "I think you and I had a better time than you would with her." She purrs as she kisses your cheek. "Don't you think?"

You nod and move your lips to brush hers. "I do." You find Carol's hands and hold them. "I can work with this."

"Are you sure?"

Carol asks, even though both want this.

"Yes."

Carol kisses you and pulls you close. "Hold on to me." You wrap your arms tightly around Carol's body, and slowly, you feel your feet leave the ground. "Keep your eyes on me," Carol said, and when you looked at her, you saw that her dress had changed into a suit.

One a superhero would wear.

"You brought us back..." You whispered into the space between the two of you. She heard you.

You watched as Carol glowed brighter, and the speed at which you two were flying increased.

_

You and Carol slept together that night, and you remember the feeling of warmth when you woke up next to her and a cat named Goose in the bed on her spaceship.

That was five months ago, and as you watch Carol fly down to a planet below, you can't help but smile.

You weren't alone.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[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.

[olsenmyolsen]

You Left Us

master list

dark master list

Pre-(A Good Version of) Secret Invasion (Female Skrull Reader X Carol Danvers)

Summary: What happens when Captain Marvel returns after all this time...

Word Count: 5.4K

Content: Carol feeling guilty for leaving, Manipulative Nick Fury

It's just past sundown as black boots hit the ground with purpose.

A blonde woman in a white tank, black jeans, and a leather jacket moves through the small town until she reaches the street with the bar she's been looking for.

She pulls open the door and (Drumroll)...

Carol Danvers walks into a bar.

Jokes aside. You look up from your place behind said bar and watch the blonde scan her blue eyes across the other patrons until she lands on you. For a very brief moment, you feel small as her gaze lingers on you until she starts to come closer. "I need a name." The taller-than-you than you blonde says in a tone that drips with authority. You smile at her voice and decide that she can't be that bad.

Right?

"Ya know... Most people order first." You slide a drink menu in front of her that she doesn't even look at. "I'm looking for someone." She looks at you, and you can tell she's not messing around.

You sigh.

"Promise to order something if I help you?" You ask, making her smirk before nodding. "Okay, take a seat." You gesture to a bar stool that she slides into. "I'm looking for a woman." This makes you smile and laugh. "Aren't we all?" The blonde tilts her head. "I'm serious."

"Me too." You crack a smile and get nothing in return. You sigh again and lean down on the bar. "What does she look like?"

The blonde thinks before opening her mouth. "She's taller than me. Black hair. Blue eyes. Not like mine. She's... tough-minded. By the book. To a fault sometimes." The blonde chuckles a bit, surprising you.

You lean up and grab a rag as silence falls between you and the woman across the counter. "Know her?" She asks. You shake your head. "Sounds like a tough girlfriend, though." You slyly add. "Oh, she's not my girlfriend!" The blonde says matter-of-factly and a little too loud.

"Okay. Sure." Your voice goes a little high to let her know that you don't believe her. "What can I get you to drink?"

"So you don't know her?" You shake your head and lift up the drink menu. "No. I don't know your girlfriend. Order."

The blonde rolls her eyes at you. "Like I said, she's not my girlfriend."

"Okay..." You say before you open and close your mouth because what you want to say is, "okay so who is your girlfriend!" But that's too much, and she's not even looking at you now. Her blue eyes are darting across the drink menu.

"I'll take this one." She points to a cocktail of your own creation. "Coming right up." You smile and gently take the menu from her hand before getting to work. The blonde watches you intensely. But not long. She looks away when you look up at her after finding the correct bottle of mix.

"Can I get a name?" You ask as you start to shake the liquids around in a cup. "Yeah, her name is Mari-"

"No, no, no. Your name." The blonde closes her mouth. "I want your name." You smiled as the woman across from you was surprised by your interruption.

"It's Carol. Carol Danvers." She says.

You lay out a napkin and place a glass onto it before filling it with her blue cocktail. "It's Carol. Carol Danvers." You repeated as she watched your face concentrate on pouring the drink. "What about you?"

You easily give her your name before going to ring up her drink, but stopping. You turn back to blonde just as she puts the blue drink to her lips. She takes a sip and tries her best to hide the grimace on her face.

She fails, though, when her eyes meet yours.

"I'm sorry." She says while you laugh. "It's okay. I figured.." It hurts you a little bit, considering this drink was your idea to put on the menu. You go to take it back, but she stops you. "I don't hate it."

"Ah, yes, because people love drinks that they don't consume." You reply with a wink. Carol smiles at you, and you feel your body quickly get warm. She has an incredible smile.

"How about... a bourbon." She states.

"Of course." Youthink as you toss the blue drink while fixing her what she really wants. "You could've ordered this before."

"Yeah, but I thought if I ordered something special, you'd help me find Maria Hill." Her face gets serious as she waits for you to react to the name.

But you don't budge.

It's almost as if you don't know who she's talking about.

Almost.

"Ah, the not girlfriend." You say, making Carol sigh. "She's not my girlfriend. She's not even my type." She answers as she gets flustered when she sees your smile. "That's besides the point! I need her to lead me to someone!"

Your smile turns into a smirk, and Carol sees it. You look Carol up and down. "And who might that be?" You ask, only earning a half-playful squint of the eyes. "Why should I tell you?" You shrug. "You don't have to. But maybe just because I don't know this Maria person, maybe I know their boss."

"Trust me, if you don't know Maria, then you don't know who's above them."

You nod your head, agreeing. "Alright. Fine." You stop and take a quick look around. The rest of the patrons still around. "Can I ask you something?" Carol lifts her face up to look at you before leaning forward, grabbing the bourbon glass again, finishing it off. "Sure."

"What makes you think I don't know Nick Fury?"

What you just said makes Carol stop. The softness she's been letting slip rightens itself. You watched her furrow her brows and clench her jaw.

"Who are you?"

You ignore Carol's question and cup your hands to make your voice louder. "Alright! The bar is now closed! Don't worry about your tabs! I have a family emergency, so if you could please leave that'd be great! Thank you!"

The handful of patrons look at one another before groaning that they must leave but are happy that they don't have to pay.

Carol keeps her face stern and eyes on you as you watch the people file out.

"Take care." You pat the back of an older gentleman as he leaves. You close the door and lock it up before cautiously returning behind the bar. You feel like prey with the way Carol watches you.

A tired sigh leaves you as you lean back against the counter. Carol rises from her seat. "Who are you?" She clenches her fist and starts to tilt her head. "I won't ask again."

"Carol, let's not do this." You say, lifting a hand as if it were a white flag. "Then you better start talking." Her fist begins to glow as she grits her teeth. "How do you know Nick Fury?"

"Come on, Carol." You laugh and grab a cold beer from behind the bar. It's not your typical drink choice, but it looks pretty cool to drink if you're trying not to seem intimidated. "Who doesn't know the man with the patch." You put a hand over your left eye to boost your point. "I mean, he's a legend, is he not?"

Carol lowers her fist as you keep your calm demeanor. You walk around the back of the bar and to the half door, swinging it open to enter the common area.

You and Carol are now on the same side. She keeps a watchful eye on you as you walk closer and closer. Beer still in hand. "The man who founded a team of heroes all those years back." Carol backs away while still remaining stern as you sit down at the bar stool next to her. "Nick Fury." You sigh and look Carol in her eyes. "The man who said he would help us after you left." Your voice cracks when the you leaves your mouth.

Carols face falters.

"You're a Skrull.."

You nod your head and look away from Carol Danvers—the Captain Marvel. You scoffed as you thought about it. "So good luck finding him." You take a sip of the gold liquid and do your best not to react to the taste. "I sure as hell haven't heard from him since the blip... or even before."

Carol just watches you deflate your body as the words pour out of you. She didn't know what to expect when she walked into this bar, but a Skrull wasn't one of them. And in a matter of minutes, she went from being flirty to angry to feeling sorry with a good mix of guilt.

She did leave.

She helped others find homes out in the cosmos, including a smaller colony of Skrulls. But the ones here on Earth... She never came back for.

She could make excuses about why she didn't, whether it be because of one Lieutenant Trouble or the fact that she was scared to let people down. Regardless, she put her focus elsewhere and only returned to Earth when it was absolutely necessary.

Like today.

Which led her to you.

Carol looks over you again, and you can feel her eyes on you, but you don't make a remark about it. Instead, you let her look over your favorite pair of Vans, high-waisted jeans, and green flannel. Her eyes scan themselves down your rolled-up sleeves and to your hands. The veins going down to your fingers.

She watches as your right handle fiddles with the silver ring hanging from your neck.

It was the first real thing you ever bought for yourself.

Carol looks up and takes note of your features. From your scarlet lips to your eyes. She loves the way your hair flows down.

She would be lying if she said she didn't find you attractive. Carol did.

But to Carol, this wasn't your actual body. Right?

But to you, it was.

You've spent more time in this human disguise than your own Skrull form.

As strange as it is to some. You love it.

"Are you done?" You ask as you turn back to look at Carol. "I get it, but you can stop." You go to take another sip of your beer, but Carol takes it from your hand and sets it down away from you, making you look at her. "You said you haven't heard from Fury even before the blip. What do you mean?"

You look at Carol as if she's joking, but you can tell by the look of determination in her eyes that she has no idea. "You really don't know." You say not knowing whether you should be hurt or happy that Carol Danvers doesn't know about the way Nick Fury used Skrulls for his battles. "Just like you, he left us. Abandoned us. Threw us to the sides when wars from invaders above could be won with humans."

Carol can tell how much this has affected you. It clearly hurts to talk about, but you don't look like a soldier or talk like one.

But that's when it clicks.

"You lost someone?" Carol softens in the bar stool next to you and even makes the cautious effort to place her hand on your arm.

"I lost everyone." You sneer back but don't remove your arm from her hold. You look into her blue eyes, and Carol sees how the sadness is threatening to spill out. Without meaning to, Carol gently rubs her hand up and down your arm. It brings you comfort, and in this moment, you once again take in the beauty that is The Captain Marvel.

"I'm sorry." She says to you, making you look back from her lips to her eyes. "I'm sorry for your loss. I know these words don't do much, but you shouldn't have had to fight Fury's battles."

And just like that, a sincere apology and moment makes you sour.

Carol stops the movement of her hand as she can sense the tension coming off of you. "Well, it's not like you were around." You pull your arm away from her and get up. "Hey!" Carol gets up and follows you as you begin walking towards the back of the bar.

"That's not fair!" Carol counters as you pass your manager office to the bar before stopping at the set of wooden stairs leading up to your place. "Fair!?" You stop to question before turning around.

"You left!" You yell at the blonde, who doesn't back down. "You fucking left, and you want to talk to me about fair? I watched my parents die! I watched my brothers and sister become toys in a game that I never wanted to play! So don't talk to me about fair when you don't understand!"

Carol is quiet. She holds up her hands and takes small steps towards you. The closer she gets, the more she sees how the tears are beginning to fall. "I'm sorry. You're right." Carol says. "I don't understand." She puts her arms by her side as she stands right before you. "Help me. Help me understand." Carol looks deeply into your eyes.

You swallow the lump in your throat and hold one of your hands out as the other wipes your face. "Okay. Come on." You say through your broken voice. Trusting her.

The guilt lingers in Carols' mind as she takes your hand.

Little did you or Carol know how the touch of your hand lit the fuse. Fingers wrapped around one another before you led her upstairs to your place.

Your home.

You two are quiet as you open the door. Carol quickly surveys the open floor plan of your apartment. Modest is the word she would use.

It wasn't much, but it was home.

When you kicked the door shut, you gingerly removed your hand from Carols. "It seems kinda redundant, but would you like a drink?" You make your way towards the fridge in your kitchen. Conveniently placed to the left of the front door. "Whatever you grab is fine." You didn't acknowledge Carols answer; instead, you opened the fridge door and grabbed whatever two hard seltzers were waiting for you.

You turned around and placed them onto your cheap dining room table and waited for Carol to approach. She still stood at the door, taking it all in. She wouldn't lie. The more she looked around, the more she got it—an inside look into what makes you, you.

But eventually, Carols' eyes landed to you sitting at the table. And with a courtesy smile, she came forward.

"I hope mango is fine." You said as you cracked open your strawberry one. Satisfied that the taste of beer is out of your mouth. "That's fine." She says as she makes her way to the chair opposite of you. "I like your place." Carol is being genuine, and you can see that. "Thanks."

You take another sip before asking: "What would you like to know?"

Carol thinks and looks over your face. "How old are you?" She squints her eyes in a playful manner, reminding you of the Carol that was flirty not that long ago. "Skrull years or human?" You ask with a sheepish smile.

"Whatever you feel comfortable with."

You nod, grateful for that answer.

"27 human years." You tilt your head. "I think."

Carol nods and takes a look around your living room before her eyes look back. "What do you do for fun?"

You weren't expecting that, but you couldn't deny that removing the tension from the room is nice.

So you smiled. "When I have time, I watch movies, play games, listen to music. You know, the normal things." Carol nods. "Normal things." She quietly repeats and can't for the life of her remember the last movie she watched.

You notice Carol's hands grip the seltzer just a little harder. "What about you?" You look to Carols' curious eyes. "What do you do for fun?" Carol covers up her surprised face and stammers to think.

"Umm..." She tilts her head in thought as it slowly dawns on you that Carol Danvers is too busy to relax. Or to have fun. "It's okay." You interrupt her thought. "Forget, I asked." You sip your drink and look away from her blue eyes. But she shakes her head. "It's not like I don't like to relax... I just..." She sighs and goes to speak, but you cut her off.

"Carol, it's alright. Seriously, forget I asked..." You open and close your mouth to stop yourself from saying more, but Carol catches it. "What?" She asks in a less than soft voice.

You give in. "I guess... I just hoped something fun would've been worth your time up there." You point up to the sky. "I guess it would've made me feel... I don't know... better knowing that you had fun at some point, but it doesn't appear so. All work, no play." Carol stares at you. "I heard a human male say that once."

But that's not what Carol is staring at you for. "Why would that make you feel better?" Carol asks, and you bite the bullet. "Because then..." You clear your throat. "Because then you would've had another reason for your absence."

That hurts Carol, and you honestly weren't trying to hurt her. But sometimes your words shoot to kill when you don't mean to.

Carol leans back into the wooden chair, causing it to creak. The only noise audible aside from the Captain's exhale. "I'm sorry." Carol looks up to see your eyes on her. "I am. I'm sorry for not being here for you and your people." Carol leans forward as her voice grows to be more gentle. "I'm sorry you got dragged into fights that should've never been around. What others did to you was extremely unfair. I should've stopped-d them and kept my p-promise..."

Before you, Carol Danvers breaks.

She feels guilty and hurt for what had happened. She takes the blame and knows whatever she does now will not stop what has already happened.

Carol lifts her right hand to her face to cover her mouth as her left arm falls to the table. She looks away from you as tears fall from her gorgeous eyes. "I'm sorry." This time, she's apologizing for her emotions.

What a silly thing to apologize for.

You let go of the can in your hand and reach your arm across the table. Your hand is open to her. Carol sees this and shakes her head, but you don't budge. "Take it." You whisper.

Carol wipes her eyes and sniffles as she lets her hand lay into yours. The contact of her warm hands sends chills across your body.

You sit like that and look at Carol with admiration for what she's done, and for the first time, you're seeing Carol Danvers as something more than a myth or a so-called hero.

Instead, all you see is Carol.

A beautiful blonde woman who is doing her best not to let snot dribble out of her nose.

It's cute.

"Here..." You remove your hand from hers as you get up to walk behind Carol. The blonde, missing your contact, turns her head to watch you. She sees you go into the living area to pick up a box of tissues sitting in the middle of your coffee table. She smiles and turns around before you notice her eyes on you.

But you felt them.

When you return to the kitchen, you hand Carol the box and watch as she embarrassing blows her nose and clears her throat.

"Trash is behind you in that cabinet." Carol turns around and opens a cabinet door. "Huh.." She says a little too loud, making you raise an eyebrow—something the blonde sees. "I- I was just thinking maybe I should put the trash can I have on the ship into a smaller area so it's not in the way. Or smelling..." She looks away from you once she finishes rambling, afraid you'll be angry at her for mentioning another thing that's kept her away. Aka, her ship. Or because you'll ask her why her garbage she smells so much.

But you do neither.

Instead, you step closer and fold your arms across your chest. "Why do you only have one trash can?"

Carol turns back to look up at you. "What?" You smile at her and let out an exhale of a laugh through your nose. "I said why do you only have one trash can? Don't you have a cat?"

Carol nods. "Well, technically, he's a flerken... so what's your point?" You tilt your head with your arms still crossed. "My point is, is when the flerken... you know... what do you do with the waste? Put it all into the same trash?"

Carol does her best to bite back a smile, only confusing you. "What?" It's now your turn to ask.

Carol stands up with a her smile showing. "Flerkens don't poop.. they eat, spit up, and lay eggs."

Excuse me!?

"They lay eggs?!" You exclaim, waving your arms around with a fright. Carol nods her head in a duh manner before picking up and finishing off the rest of her drink, as your mind can't wrap your head around a cat laying eggs.

You're only knocked out of your thoughts when Carol shuts the cabinet where your recycling bin was kept. Thus, bringing you and Carol back into this post-apology reality.

"You know..." You say, interrupting the dead air falling between the two of you. "For the record, I truly don't know where Nick Fury is." You shift your weight from one foot to the other.

Carol nods and inhales with a click. "I figured. Any word on Maria Hill?"

You smile. "Ah, the girlfriend." Carol playfully rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "For the last time. She's not my girlfriend."

"You're right." You say, taking a step closer. "She's not your type." You look Carol up and down. She sees it and unbeknownst to you.... You are her type.

"Like you are?" Carol says back to shock you, but all it does is make you smirk. You take another step closer. And in a hushed tone, you say: "You and I both know that I certainly could be."

This makes Carol blush, and lucky for her, you walk past her as her cheeks grow red. Carol never thought you would be that bold.

You never knew you were that bold!

The words left your mouth quicker than you could stop them, which is why you're now standing by your shelf of movies. Ignoring Carols eyes on you. Hoping the look on your face will quickly fade.

Carol turns around and sees you shift your weight again as you hold the ring hanging off the necklace between your fingers.

Carol knows she should fish for more information or just leave and continue her search for Fury. But she doesn't want to. She's been alone, on her own, for so long that having company is good. But having good-looking company is even better.

Regardless of how rocky your situation-ship started.

"Looking for anything in particular?" Carol says, appearing by your side. You keep your eyes forward as Carols blue eyes linger in your mind. "Something you might like..." You respond. "I might like?" Carol looks at you with scrunched eyebrows. You nod before turning your head, and when you do, Carols face turns from one of confusion into a smile. Which in turn makes you smile.

"Well, how's the search?" Carol raises an eyebrow and bites her bottom lip. "G-good." You feel your cheeks flush and hate yourself over your stupid stutter because of a pretty smile.

You turn away and grab whatever two movies are in reach to get the attention away from your face. "Maybe these..." You hold out for Carol to take.

"Terminator 2, and... Scott Pilgrim Vs The World?? Okay, there's no way that second one is real?!"

"How come?" You ask, genuinely curious by Carols sudden declaration. She flips the Blu-Ray to the back. "First off, he's a man named Scott. No hero is ever named Scott- hold on..." You're about to correct that she literally knows a hero named Scott when: "He has to beat 7 evil exes for this girl that he likes!?!" Carol looks up at you with a mixture of glee and distaste.

Carol thinks the plot sounds fun, but she's worried about how they're gonna stretch out the story coming from someone who could kick the seven evil ex's ass. No biggie.

You just nod and take Terminator 2 back from her to put on your shelf. "So you wanna go with that one?" You point to the movie. "You mean I can keep it?" Carol asks, misunderstanding you.

"Oh.. no- I mean you can, but I meant like that's we to watch- like we could watch it. Together." You nervously ramble and gesture to the TV behind you, and thankfully, Carol picks up on the hint and squints her eyes before smiling. "As fun as that sounds..." She hands you the movie. "I still need to find Maria."

Your smile turns flat, and you sadly take the movie from her hands. "Right."

"She's not my girlfriend." Carol points sternly at you before you can say anything. "I know." You laugh.

"Still don't know where Maria could be?" You shake your head. "Estonia? Fiji? Anywhere, honestly." You think as Carol sighs. "But." Carol stands up straight. "I know there's a colony hiding in Russia. Rumor is they have a leader. Someone like me. Someone who's lost everything."

Carol frowns at your words and steps towards you, but before she speaks, you cut her off.

"I forgive you." She stands in front of you with her mouth dropped. "It's okay. You don't need to apologize."

Carol closes her mouth and swallows as she nods. "Thank you."

"Of course." You whisper before clearing your throat. "Gravik." Carol raises her head, waiting for you to continue. "That's his name. Their leader." Carols nods again.

"And Carol?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember, we were all put into tough spots. I don't know much about Gravik or how far gone he could be. But I'm sure that could've been me."

Carol understands you and thanks you again before stepping closer to you. You don't move. She takes the movie from your hand and carefully drops it onto your coffee table. Carol then takes your hands in her own and looks you in the eyes.

"You didn't lose everything. You have me. I promise."

Carol then moves her hands out of yours and brushes them up your arm. And before you know it, her arms are wrapped around your back as you are pulled into a hug.

It's gentle and soft as each of you test the waters. Leaning into one another feels nice and complimentary. Once settled, you inhale and feel butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Carol Danvers smells like Vanilla.

She discovers that you smell like Lavender.

"You have me." She whispers as you feel her breath hit your ear. You bite your lip and make an agreeing noise. "I should go.." The hug finally ends, and yet the both of you want don't want Carol to leave.

But she promised.

"Yeah..." You give Carol a sad smile and walk with her to the door. "You don't have to walk me out," Carol says as your feet hit the bottom of the steps leading back to the main entrance. "I know, but I wanted to."

Carol loves that.

As you and Carol reach the front door, you stop. "Oh shoot. Wait here!" You say, confusing Carol as you turn around and run away. "What?!" She asks, only to hear you yell, "Wait!" Followed by your feet running up the stairs.

It takes less than two minutes for you to come back down. Carol smiles when she sees you, and it grows when she sees what's in your hand. In fact, she laughs. "You didn't!"

"I did." You wave it at her. "Here." You give Carol your copy of Scott Pilgrim Vs The World. "I have no way of watching this. Believe it or not, Earth is the only planet with Blu-Rays." She laughs as she speaks.

"I know." You reply.

"It's for when you come back." You sweetly say, making Carol happy. You trust her. "For when I come back."

Carol opens her arms for a hug, which is when you get bold again. You kiss Carol on the cheek as you accept the hug, momentarily stunning the hero.

Before she leans back to look at you. Red in the face.

"Hey, if you're going to kiss me. Kiss me."

As her words hit your ears, Carol leans forward and connects her lips with yours, and the soft, sensual sensation your lips got from just her skin explodes when you feel her pillowy lips. You close your eyes and savor this moment.

"Wow."

You agree with Carol as the two of you hold each other. Neither alone. You lean your forehead against the blondes. "Can I ask you something?" You open your eyes to see her already looking at you. "Go ahead."

"When I do return, how will I know.. that you're you."

That's a good question. You think for a moment before commenting to an answer. "Play Take On Me by A-Ha. I like the acoustic version more, and if you play the original, I'll be sure to tell you that." Carol listens to your words and grins to the thought of you belting out Take On Me.

"That could work." She smiles.

"Besides. You'll know it's me." Carol leans out of the embrace and cocks an eyebrow. "You're so sure?"

"I'm positive."

Carol smiles brightly and takes your words as truth. She then looks up to the sky. "I should go."

"Okay." You tell her, but the night is just starting between you two, and you don't want it to end. But at last, Carol unwraps arms from you. The feeling of her long finger on your skin makes you jolt. "Will I ever get to see you in your true form?" Carol asks as carefully as possible. You understand and don't get upset.

Instead, you smile.

"You're looking at her." You say, making Carol smile at you before grabbing your hand. "I trust and know that I'll be ready for whenever you do want to show me."

You nod and appreciate it. "But this is me, Carol."

Carol begins to glow. "And this is me." She winks before lifting your hand up to place a kiss on your fingers. "Remember my promise."

You nod. "I will. Good luck, Carol."

"Stay safe, Y/N."

Carol takes a few steps out from the awning of the bar. She looks back at you before turning into light, shooting like a rocket up and towards the infinite cosmos.

You smile and go to fiddle with the ring around your neck before remembering...

-

Carol lands in her cloaked ship that's in high orbit of Earth.

Goose, the every alert flerken, is immediately there to greet her and to meow about her lack of pets. "I'm sorry, Goosie." Carol pets the flerken and gives her some head smoochies before marching over to a console.

She taps buttons on a pad before a scan of Earth shows up. Carol hits some more buttons, causing the image of Nick Fury to pop with red letters on top.

MISSING Last Seen: SABER Base

Carol looks at Goose, biting her lip to form a plan. But then Carol remembers about the gift in her other hand. "Oh shit." She ungrips the Blu-Ray and paces over to her personal corner on the ship.

She goes to place the movie on to her side table, except something rattles inside. She freezes. Huh? Carol picks up the case again and hears the noise.

How did she not hear this earlier?

Carol opens the case to find the movie still intact, put sitting on top is your necklace with your phone number and a note.

"I'm happy I have you." - Y/N

Carol wore your necklace every day after that.

Until three years later when you gave her a new ring.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[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.

[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)

————

“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🩷