#hope you're all liking the picture tony's painting....

[deliciousangelfestival]

My Problematic Girl-Chapter 2

Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader

Prologue:  Steve has lived being nobody in this prestigious university. He just wants to graduate and get a job to get more money to pay the bills for his mother's surgery. 

But his life turned upside when a new student attended his class. His quiet and dull life became dangerous and full of surprises.

×××

She exhaled the cigarette smoke from her lips. She still doesn’t care even though he told her he has asthma. 

She looked at Steve and said, “Bark for me.”

Steve felt humiliated, and his pride was crushed. But she held his life and secrets. He had to bury his dignity to the ground, and he murmured, 

“Woof.”

******

I would appreciate any comments and feedback you can give me. 

If you want to be tagged in this series, please tell me.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9,-

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Three days later

Steve was always the first person to arrive at the class. But today, his record was broken because Y/N was the first to arrive. She's faster because Tony drops her in his sports car. 

Perhaps she came early, hoping no one would notice their relationship. But they failed because Steve saw them. 

He hid and waited outside until Y/N entered the classroom. When he stepped in, he felt nervous because she was staring at him. He gathered his courage to say, "Good morning, Y/N!"

He almost screamed; why the heck did he greet her like that? Maybe because it's the first time in his uni years to greet his classmates. 

"Morning."

Short reply.

But it's an improvement. 

For a few days, Steve noticed Y/N never listened to the lecturer, ignored other invitations, and played games on her tablet. 

And she constantly smokes. She offered him one time, but he said no because he doesn't smoke because he has asthma. 

One thing he has learned is that she has no art skills. She had no idea when he mentioned figure drawing or dynamic shapes. 

Sometimes she likes to see his sketchbook and his previous artwork. But Steve is always nervous when she looks at his art because he's afraid if she ever reads his art from that damn website. 

Steve went to his chair and opened his bag. He opened the document bag to grab the drawing she requested. 

He handed the drawing to her. "I used the source from the photo to draw her looking like 40 years old. The size is A4, and I made another with a photo size for your wallet."

Steve noticed in between classes, sometimes Y/N would open her wallet to see the photo. He asked her yesterday who the person was. 

"My mother." 

She looked intimidating but became a softie when she mentioned her mother. 

Y/N took the paper to see it closely. Her fingers caress the picture; she is quiet and mesmerised. Steve sees this as complimenting how she " aww" with his works.

She looked at him. "She's beautiful, just like I imagine. Thank you." 

Steve felt his cheeks getting warm. Is he blushing? 

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like it."

Y/N pulled something from her bag that looked like a  white envelope. "This is the rest of the payment."

Steve almost jolted his eyes, looking at how thick the envelope was. His fingers trembled when he touched it. 

When he counted it, the amount was around $3,000. 

He gasped, "Y/N, I couldn't accept this." 

She ignored him and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket. "With the quality of your work, it's worth it. I'm going for a smoke before the class starts." 

She waved without looking at him and left the class; she also brought the drawing with her. 

Steve still looks at her back, holding the money envelope to his chest. From all the part-time and side jobs he took, he never got this amount of money in such a short time. 

He doesn't even care if Y/N is a troublemaker; in Steve's mind, she's different from other rich kids.

In his senior year, maybe he could have one friend. 

During the class. 

Everyone is painting like usual; the lecturer doesn't give any assignments because the last semester is approaching. 

They let the student gather ideas to finish their last assignment on time. 

Steve also focused on his art. While he painted, something splashed on his canvas. 

Red paint. 

He was sure he didn't use any red colour. 

He turned around and saw three male students he never conversed with standing behind him.

"So, you're friends with Y/N? How does it feel?" Luke, one of them, is mocking Steve. 

He looked at Y/N's chair; she still didn't return from her smoke break. 

"I said this to you as an advice. You shouldn't get close to Y/N. Because you're an eyesore."

"She's not supposed to hang out with you. She will eventually realise it's a mistake knowing you."

Ah, they're mad because Y/N doesn't want to join their circle, and she also ignores them. So they vent their anger through Steve. 

Steve clenched his fist. They want to make him feel bad by saying he's a weirdo compared to Y/N. 

But…

What they said is true; he's just nobody.

But can he be selfish this one time? Deep down, he wants to be friends with her. 

"That was a rude thing to say."

Steve lifted his head because he heard Y/N's voice.

Then he heard Luke scream, "ARRGHH!!!" and the sound of someone falling surrounded the room. 

Even Steve almost jumped from his chair. Did he just see Y/N kick Luke to the floor?!!

"Ouch, I'm going to sue you." Luke pointed his finger at Y/N.

Everyone became silent because they knew Luke's father was a famous CEO. 

"No, I'm the one who is going to sue you." 

Steve gulped; it's scary how rich people fight. They will get their lawyer to enter their battle. 

Luke looks at Y/N with disbelief. "I'm the one who got hurt. You kicked me."

Y/N leaned down, looked at Steve's canvas, and turned to Luke again. "You have destroyed someone else's property, and you try to defame my name."

She pointed the brush at Luke's hand. 

"The only person in the class who uses bright red paint today is you. And I felt hurt by the way you mentioned my name to Steve. I see this as self-defence."

She leaned closer to Luke's ear. "Go back to your seat, or tomorrow there will be news of you high on drugs with the senator's son."

Luke's breath hitched and trembled. How did she know this secret? 

Y/N fixed his shirt, and she said this as if nothing happened. "I'm sorry I kicked your hips; send me the hospital bills."

Luke immediately stood up and bowed down at her. If his drug problem gets known, his father's business and the senator will be ruined. 

"Sorry, it will never happen again." Then he turned to Steve, "I'm sorry I ruined your painting."

Steve wanted to speak, but Luke and his friends left the classroom. 

He looked at Y/N with awed eyes. Except for Bucky, nobody ever defended him in this university. 

"Thank you, Y/N."

Y/N raised her shoulder. "It's nothing."

After the class, other students left the classroom quicker than usual. It seems like they are afraid of Y/N. 

He walks with her from the class to the park; Steve wants to ask a favour from her, "Ehm, Y/N can I ask for your help?"

Y/N didn't glance at him; she was still playing with her phone. "Just say it."

Steve gripped his bag tighter and cleared his throat. "Uhm, so for the final assignment, every student has to make an exhibition for their artwork. But I don't have any money to rent a studio. I know it's too much to ask, but do you want to be my sponsor?"

He continued, "I won't do it for free. I will do all your assignments."

"No." 

That was a cold rejection. He was prepared, but to hear those words still hurt. He faces down and holds his tears. "Uhm, I see. It's okay. Sorry to bother you, Y/N."

He stepped back, preparing to run away, but then he heard, "When I said no, it is about you doing my assignment. You don't have to do that."

‘Is she going to say yes?’ Steve hoped so. 

"But, how are you going to graduate with nothing?"

Y/N chuckled. "I don't need to worry about that since I already have a bachelor's degree. I'm here because of punishment."

"Wha,-" 

'She has a bachelor's degree?"

She immediately cut his curiosity and lit a new cigarette. "I will be your sponsor."

Steve gasped, his hand covering his opened mouth. His eyes are getting blurred because he wants to cry. Finally, his prayer answered, "Thank you, Y/N; I will remember this my whole life."

Y/N inhaled and exhaled the smoke from her mouth. She tilted her head a little."It's nothing because I like your work, VioletDust18."

"What?" His celebration stopped. Steve's body felt numb. It felt like someone put a shackle on his foot that made him couldn't run. 

Nobody in the real world calls him with that ID, only in emails from people who ordered his art. 

Y/N smiled at him and said, "I look forward to our cooperation Steve Rogers, or should I say VioletDust18?" 

Oh God, she said that name again. 

Steve felt scared; what kind of person had he just made a deal with?

Thank you for reading. I hope you like it.

If you have any feedbacks or want to join the tagged list, you can tell me.

I will always be grateful for those who reblog. Thank you so much.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 , Chapter 8, Chapter 9,-

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[allofmytoxicity]

hey, I saw that your requests were open and I wanted to ask if you could write a comfort fic with tony dinozzo.

I am a person who doesn't make friends easily nor do I fit in social situations easily. When I am out with friends and other people my age, i find it diffcult to fit in, I feel like I don't belong. So using this as an outline, could you write something where the reader went to an afterparty for an event her company hosted and she felt left out and that she didn't belong there and tony comforts her.

Hope this isn't too long or stumps your creativity. I just needed some comfort after the week i've had.

What was I made for?

a/n: okay, no. 1, sorry I pretty much dropped off the face of the earth for months (life is hard, okay!?), no. 2, when I got this ask in, I felt seen. Yes, people may see me on here, think I have it all put together. I don't. And many people like me don't. This piece of writing sparked the creativity I needed just now and getting this ask felt healing after the year I've had, because to cut a long story short, there has been a lot of crying because I didn't fit in. no. 3, I looked at your profile, I am also a McLaren and Ferrari girlie (sadly not max) but, if you want to send me a message after COTA that would be fine! Anyway, enjoy!

Summary: At a work after party you find yourself questioning why you're there until a certain NCIS agent comes along.

Word Count: 1.4k

TW: shit coworkers along with some tooth-rotting Tony comfort fluff while I anxiously sit and wait for formula 1 results.

Why on earth did you think this was a good idea?

Why? Just why?

Your work had decided to put on an event launching something you'd been working on, with an afterparty at the office later on in the night, and even though it was an optional thing, you'd still decided to come.

But even with the hustle and bustle though of the evening, you were stood in a corner, questioning why you'd even come tonight, because there you were, standing in a cinnamon coloured halter-neck dress with a lemonade in your hands beside a plant pot you'd bought years ago for the office.

This plant pot, like your current self, had gone unnoticed by everyone and was left to wither in the background as everyone got on with their lives.

It wasn't even as if it wasn't the norm for people to bring things in to brighten up the dull grey scale office walls, bar the slight accents of burnt orange on things like the company logo on the walls. Around the same time you'd brought in the plant, Anne-Marie round in marketing had brought in a painting that she had hung just outside her office and ever since she'd been complimented on it, whereas your plant? People acted as if it had always been there, but never watering it.

That's what it was normally like for you. There, but never seen, haunting the halls as everyone worked, your existence ghost-like to everyone around you.

It was what made it all worse. You had no work friends, no acknowledgement, not even regular emails because you were just missed out on projects. Sometimes you did literally think about working from home, but that, of course, would be the one time when someone actually needed you.

Taking a sip of the lemonade you were holding, you double tapped your phone as a notification ping came through, the bright light from the sudden action making you squint, before you gazed down at the notifications from your husband, very special agent Tony Dinozzo.

The string of messages that had been sent through, that as you read them, sound like Tony was just texting what had first come into his head. It ranged from texts like 'Sorry I missed dinner, Gibb's has got us working on a stupid case' to 'Are you okay!? The house is empty and I expected you to be home!' to finally 'oh wait you're at that work thing aren't you?' which were all sent in the space of a couple of hours.

Through the regret of turning up tonight as well as the feeling of not belonging, you smiled and breathed out a laugh at the array of emotions playing through the texts.

After a few seconds and quick typing you shot back a reply, 'I'm at the work thing, but I'll be home soon. Not exactly feeling like I belong here.'

The next notification ping about a minute later was Tony's reply, him clearly having just typed it up, 'Good job I was coming to get you anyway, huh?'

You actually, properly, laugh for the first time that night send back just a love heart before moving away from the withering plant in the corner, but not before you donate the last of your lemonade to it first.

After that, you walk towards your desk, just a couple of metres away from the potted plant, but beside where a few of your coworkers were talking, as well as where you'd hidden your coat and bag, grabbing those along with your laptop just to catch up on any emails, or even resign like Tony had been telling you to do for years.

Making your way back through the crowded sixth floor of your office building and making it to the elevator, hitting the green G and let the doors close, slipping your laptop into your bag while they do so.

Quickly putting you bag down on the ground after, you stick on your coat as the elevator moves, not wanting the cold October air to catch you out with a cold as you wait for Tony, so you make sure to fully zip it up as you pick up your bag just as the doors open.

Walking briskly out of the building, you spot Tony standing outside of his car, his scarf and gloves on with his hair perfectly gelled, and begin to rush towards him.

You had walked to the launch party part of the night as it was only a couple of blocks from your apartment before the walk to the office building which you were all taken to by car, so at least your feet weren't too sore, but you were sure not to wear heels tonight jut in case Tony got off work really late.

As you get closer, you smile and Tony reflects it back and it isn't long before you're crashing into his arms, letting a relaxed sigh out into his neck.

"Hey." Tony says quietly, letting you go and kissing you in the middle of the dark car park.

"Hi," you respond, looking him in the eyes. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Tired, but good." Tony replies, looking at you with a smile.

"Why don't we go home?" You ask and Tony nods, opening the right-hand-side car door to let you in before running around to the other side for him to get in the car.

Reversing back and getting on the road, Tony multitasks and takes his gloves off as well, sticking them in his lap before putting a hand on your thigh, not wanting to freeze your leg to death in the short drive.

"How did it go?" Tony asked after a short while, not taking his eyes off the road, but clearly listening.

"Okay. I nearly didn't go tonight. Probably shouldn't've" You reply, looking towards Tony with your head against the leather headrest.

"Why?" Tony continues, flicking his mind away from driving for one second to look at you.

"You know, you've seen the messages. I... I never fit in and I'm always forgotten." You whisper, tears starting to brim against you eyes.

As Tony turns into your street and parks up, he turns in his seat to look at you, before asking one very important question.

"Why do you not just quit?"

You left out alight scoff, letting a few tears fall before you give Tony a reply.

"Because, I don't know what I'd do. It seems all I was made for is to work there and be a pencil pusher. I have no other goals in life. I was left by my childhood friends, I have a useless degree and my coworkers ignore me." You say sniffling, letting more tears fall as you play with the rings that the very special senior agent gave to you all those years ago.

Tony sighs and looks at you before taking your left hand and holding it, rubbing his thumb against the back of it, brushing by the gold bands encompassing your ring finger.

You both sit there in silence for a moment before Tony clears his throat and looks directly at you.

"Quit and I'll get you a job." Tony nearly whispers and your head shoots up from where it originally was facing in your lap.

"What?" You ask, almost in disbelief at what he was saying.

"Quit and I'll get you a job. NCIS will have to have somewhere you can work, and put your degree to use. The team loves you, even Gibbs- which I still don't get- but anyway, you'd have somewhere where people love and respect you." Tony rambles while you start to feel hot tears of pure joy at the fact he was sitting there, telling you that he would work his butt off to find you somewhere where you could be you and be happy.

"You're really doing this? You really want to work with me?" You ask, using your free right hand to wipe your eyes.

"Honey, I think there's a reason those rings are on your hand," Tony says and you laugh. "Yes, I want to work with you, and to be fair, so does Abby. She's been begging me to do this for months."

You giggle at the sentiment and as Tony releases your hand, you both get out of the car and start walking up to your apartment, hand-in-hand, you have a soft smile on your face, knowing that even if you were forgotten by everybody else, there was at least someone fighting in your corner.

Even if they could be a little shit sometimes because they've eaten all the brownies you'd baked the day before.

a/n: there you go! I really hope you feel better after this (also, sorry it took so long to write this). This was really actually therapeutic for me, so I'm glad I wrote this.

requests are open!

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 30 – FIX-IT

SERIES: Post-Infinity War Snippets by romanoff

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 7,059 Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD

Reasons why I love it: At this point, it's probably no secret that I love everything that romanoff has ever written, and this collection of one-shots includes some of my favorite fics of theirs. The pain is so raw and real, and since Infinity War was one of the first Marvel movies I ever watched (I know, I was a late bloomer) this part of canon is especially near and dear to my heart. I really hope you check them out, because they're all amazing.

This series consists of:

ashes to ashes, dust to dust

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 2,133 Tags: Loss, Mentions of Tony/Pepper, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Written for the prompt: hi i don't know if you're active on this blog but i read your last prompt on ao3 and i was wondering if you could give me some tony/steve angst post infinity war?? any closure will do no pressure thank u bye Steve and Tony seek closure with a conversation.

Reasons why I love it: Well, shoot me in the heart, why don't you? Seeing Tony so broken after what happened in Infinity War just breaks my heart, even more so than the movies did. And the way Steve approaches him is so tender despite everything. I love this fic so much, and if you're looking for some canon-adjacent angst, this one is a must-read!

all that remains

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 1,269 Tags: Loss, PTSD, BAMF Nebula

Summary: Nebula and Tony are left on Titan, united by a common goal

Reasons why I love it: I love how Nebula's response to trauma and grief is to become absolutely ruthless in pursuing her revenge, by any means necessary. And her introspections about Tony are super interesting, they really paint a picture of who they both are in this universe. I love this fic, and I bet you will too!

earth's greatest defender

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 818 Tags: Civil War, Flip Phone, Misunderstandings

Summary: Written for the prompt: 'your post-IW snippets are killing me in the best way AHHHHHH - could you write the call scene between bruce and steve, with steve thinking at first that it was Tony calling? that would be amazing, thank you!' Steve gets the call sitting in an old motel outside Albany.

Reasons why I love it: I've recommended this fic on its own before, but you bet your ass I'm going to do it again. The dialogue in this really gets under my skin, Steve's pain is so palpable. And I love that last sentence at the end, it's just the right kind of gut punch to leave off with. The angst is amazing, and if you want to get a little crushed today, definitely read this one!

when the dust settles

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 2,839 Tags: Team as Family, Heavy Angst, Fluff

Summary: What’s left of the Avengers regroup and offer each other some much needed support.

Reasons why I love it: This is so fucking sad and yet strangely cathartic at the same time. I know this doesn't really scream fix-it, but to me it still kind of does. Because with the team back together again and relearning to trust each other, I like to believe that in this timeline, they really do manage to save everyone. I love all of these fics, so I really hope you go and experience it for yourself!

[tujhse-raabta]

ooh!! do elaborate

okay okay okay so. OKAY.

you know tony stark? and you know how howard stark neglected him in favour of looking for a dead man.

you know morgan stark. you know how tony tried so hard to honour Peter's memory with her.

do we ever think? that maybe he wondered whether morgan lives with an eternal sense of being less? do we wonder whether he stares at his crow's feet in the mirror and tries desperately to highlight the differences between him and his dad, assure himself that he isn't neglecting his child in favour of a lost love?

that got me thinking. so many howard stark, tony stark parallels...... my favourite thing in the world is writing abused children grow up and try to not be like their abusers. because it's real. it's a struggle. it's a fear that never leaves, because each time you look in the mirror, you see eyes that looked at you once with disdain, and never stopped looking.

that spiralled into a character study ish thing that spans across Tony's life, probably a oneshot, highlighting all the ways he's 'just like his dad'

also uh. snapshot of it bcs i wanna !

You are four, and the world calls you the next Howard Stark.

The word 'genius' is thrown at you more than your own name is. You know what it means, of course. You are one, and you do it all in hopes that maybe your father would, for once, deign to look at more than pictures of the Arctic.

You've never thought it was a bad thing, to be like the man who runs the world.

Except - today, you go with your mama to meet her friends. The party is nice, you think, abstractly, even if there is nothing you can taste and appreciate. The women coo over you, ruffle your hair and touch you everywhere, as if you are a specimen and not a living breathing child.

It doesn't seem wrong to you. After all, mama doesn't do anything to stop it. They manhandle you as if you're a toy, ordering you to 'show your genius' as if you're a well trained monkey.

You revel in it. It's either that, or break silently every time the world looks at you and holds out its hands, asking for more and more and more while you still walk with hesitant steps.

You make them smile. You make them laugh. You bask in their glee and their pride, and as grating as it is, it soothes you too.

Except maybe you step too far, that day. Maybe you walk the tightrope between Stark and Carbonell and slip, like a toddling child instead of the trained circus ape.

(you are a toddling child)

You don't know what you built in minutes with deft hands. You do know that for the entirety of the day, the women around you say that you are 'all Stark' as if it doesn't break your mama's heart.

She doesn't look at you for the rest of the day. At night, you walk over to her and ask her to sing you to sleep, as she has always done. It is the one moment of the day where Maria Stark is truly your mama, instead of the stunning socialite, and it is when she bids you away from the conscious world.

That night? She grabs you by the chin with fingers too harsh, nails digging like claws, and spits 'entitled' at you as if it's a slur. The stink of wine rests heavy and settles into your lungs.

Angry tears start running down her face, as yours contorts in pain and hurt. "You don't get to be hurt." she insists. "You will always have everything. You will be the next man to run the world. You will be just like him. You don't get to sob when the people you trample over to reach there don't take it quietly, Ho- An-" she hiccups.

You stand still, her red nails painted scarlet with the blood they draw from your chin, till Jarvis enters with a shout and disentangles you from her grip. They scream at each other in front of you. You stand still.

Jarvis leads you to your bed, silent assurances that "She will apologize in the morning, young Sir, don't you worry. Now look up, let me bandage that up, please."

You look up. You don't say a word. Your eyes dry.

Jarvis stays for long, holding onto you and cradling your head. He leaves when you've tricked him into thinking you're asleep.

You are not. You don't sleep that night, the emptiness of the room echoing harshly as the absence of 'mia caras' claw a hole in your little heart.

She doesn't apologize, the next morning. She doesn't look at you, for the next few years. The next time you look into her eyes is at her funeral, wide and glazed and unseeing. Till then, the only version of them you remember is brown swimming with resentment and darkness.

You are four. The world calls you the next Howard Stark.

You cannot be, for surely the man who runs the world does not sob into his pillow every night, aching to hear an Italian lullaby that will never repeat.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Meeting And Dating Thor Odinson Would Include:

Meeting And Dating Thor Odinson Would Include:

Thor Odinson X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Loki (Mentioned), Frigga (Mentioned), Heimdall (Mentioned), Tony (Mentioned) Reader's friends (Mentioned), and The Warriors Three (Mentioned)

WC: 1,175

Warnings: Mentions of fighting (brief), cute stuff, baby angst, and fluff

You met Thor in a very unconventional way. 

In fact, you met him quite literally by accident. You were walking home from a cafe with your friends when someone bumped into you. You tripped over yourself, and in your haste to regain control, you ended up on the floor. When you looked up, you saw him looking at you with a slightly panicked expression. Your face must have said it all because he offered you his hand. You accepted his offer, and he helped you stand. 

He was quick to apologize, saying that he was so caught up in his own thoughts that he had failed to notice you. You actually didn't mind at all, the person before you was Thor, after all, an Avenger. His kind words put a smile on your face. He then asked if you'd like to join him for coffee. You smiled again and agreed. How could you say no to the Norse God? That's how you found yourself sitting across from each other at a small table in a cafe. It was pretty nice. You didn’t even care that that was your second coffee of that day.

Unsurprisingly, Thor was a charmer, retelling his great adventures with the Warriors Three and his brother, Loki You laughed along with his stories. You couldn't help but be enamored with the man in front of you. The god had bright blue eyes that seemed to glow and a handsome smile.

It wasn't long until you went on another date, and another, and another…

Expect Thor to tell you more stories of his quests. Ones with the warriors, Loki, and He enjoys your laughter as he tells you about the times they've gotten into trouble. You're always fascinated by their antics. Your laugh is so contagious, Thor can't help but laugh too.

You help him with technology. Helping him with the toaster or how to use the tv remotes.

Thor loves taking selfies with you, posting them to his social media with your help. Literally more than half of his phone is full of pictures of the two of you.

You, 90% of the time, go to cafes for your dates, and Thor always gets a coffee and lemon scone.

Thor takes you to Asgard the first chance he gets. He has a constant bright smile on his face as he introduces you to his mother and brother.

His mother, Frigga, loves you. Welcome to the family.

Heimdall thinks you are a great match for his friend. He sees how happy you make Thor. He approves.

You always think of Thor when it thunders outside.

On quiet days, you and Thor sit together and read. Most of the time though, Thor asks you to read to him as he rests his head on your lap. He finds your voice soothing.

You like to take him to art museums. Taking him to see some of your favorite paintings. 

Thor is prince charming. Always taking care of you whenever possible. It makes you happy, knowing that someone cares so much for you.

Stealing his clothes, mostly the t-shirts he wears when he's not saving the world. Thor does notice when they are missing, in fact, he leaves them out in the open in hope of you finding them and stealing them from him. He does think you look better in them than he does.

After you move into the tower with him, you and Thor take turns pranking Tony. Moving his tools when he's gone, reprogramming his ACDC music to classical through JARVIS, and getting everybody in the tower to call him ‘Pony’ for an entire day. 

You and Thor play Just Dance together, and it really turned into a competition. Thor is surprisingly really good at dancing, which makes you pretty jealous. But, quickly your dance jealousies subside when you see Thor dance in those jeans.

Sometimes, at night when you both can't sleep, Thor would turn on some soft music, taking you in his arms and leading you into a gentle sway. Closing your eyes, you held each other close, as the world just fell away.

Thor is a cuddler. He'd cuddle with anyone, but with you, he's a full-on raging cuddle monster. There isn't a night where he isn’t cuddling you. Either he’s spooning you from behind or literally on top of you, his head resting on your stomach.

He does snore, you don't mind. It helps remind you that he's there.

Will thunder and lightning if he's angry. If someone is rude to you and makes you cry, the skies will darken and the weatherman will get confused. 

Now, you don't fight or argue a lot, but when you do, you're heated in a fight one moment, and the next either apologizing to one another or in a passionate kiss. Either way, it ends quickly, you never fight for long. You and Thor never want to go to bed angry.

Thor watches in bated breath as you wrap your hand around the handle of the hammer. He throws his arms up in the air as he jumps out of his seat with glee. Wrapping you up in his arms, he spins you around. 

"I told you Y/N was worthy!"

Thor's not too much of a fan of PDA, but if someone tries to steal you away, he's not afraid to show them that you are his. 

Huge into hand holding.

And hand kisses.

When he's called off for a mission, Thor always says goodbye. Taking you in his arms as he takes in your scent, memorizing it for when he was away. Pressing a kiss to your forehead before promising to be back soon.

He will use your shampoo. Gotta keep that hair looking fine. And it reminds him of you.

Thor surprises you with little gifts and trinkets from Asgard and any other planet or realm. Leaving them somewhere random in your room. 

Will get you anything you desire. You say your favorite brush broke, he's off to get you another. Your favorite shirt ripped? He's finding a sewing kit and learning how to sew just for you. You pass a cute animal on the street? He's coming back with your new pet. He'd do anything for you.

A lot of terms of endearment. Like, my love, dear, darling, etc. And, on occasion, baby.

Thor is a huge fan of board games. He loves playing Monopoly. He always plays as the dog. though, you did teach him the game Twister.

There are two types of mornings for you two, 1) Waking up and not feeling like getting out of bed until later. Your head resting on Tho's chest and his arms wrapped around you as he hums an old Asgardian song. 2) Waking up with him bringing you breakfast in bed. Laughing as he sneaks a piece of bacon off your plate.

Thor plans to spend the rest of his days with you. He wants you to know how happy you make him, and how much he loves you.

[themculibrary]

Fluff Masterlist 2

part one

Action (ao3) - EmilyWeaslette mj/peter N/R, 95k

Summary: Peter stepping into the limelight, as seen through videos.

a kiss a day (anything for kate bishop) (ao3) - dare121 yelena/kate T, 49k

Summary: Adjusting her fake glasses, Kate moves in the direction of the nearest painting and settles herself in front of it, doing her best to look like she’s taking notes on the notepad in her hands. The lanyard around her neck swings uncomfortably close to the rope that separates herself from the art on display as she tries to take in her surroundings at the same time. She only spares a glance at the picture, and squints at the three alien creatures on it that mostly resemble common house cats, while being just off enough to unnerve the observer.

have a seat, dad (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor harley/peter G, 1k

Summary: Peter tells Tony that he's going to be a grandpa.

Hello Midtown High (ao3) - AmyR G, 20k

Summary: This is basically domestic Avengers and Peter Parker, with a slight smattering of the Field Trip trope thrown in. It's really just domestic Avengers though.

History's Gayer Than You Think (Or So MJ Says) (ao3) - lattely (orphan_account) steve/bucky T, 4k

Summary: Peter Parker has never witnessed a proposal. Until one day, he finds himself inches away from history building itself with the help of a ring box, when all he was up for was watching a movie.

just know you're not alone (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor tony/sam T, 10k

Summary: Tony was settling into his new life being an Avenger. Everything was going fine, great even, and then suddenly a kid was thrown into the picture. Peter Parker becomes Tony’s world, and he’s doing everything he can to keep his son out of the spotlight. Unfortunately, some things don’t always go to plan. But would it really be such a bad thing if his fellow Avengers found out about his son?

Kissblocked! (ao3) - impravidus harley/peter G, 4k

Summary: 5 times harley was interrupted trying to kiss peter for the first time and the 1 time he wasn't (and was)

NOT Just Married (ao3) - relenafanel steve/bucky M, 7k

Summary: Also known as the feel-good fluffy ficlet relenafanel promised after the end-credit scene of new Bucky feels from hell... Because I have your back and know you need recovery comedic AUs about BFFs being dumb in Vegas.

perfectly right wrong number (ao3) - melonbutterfly steve/bucky T, 31k

Summary: It all starts because Steve is too dumb to handle his smartphone.

A wrong number AU in which Bucky Barnes doesn't enter Steve's life (meaning: Bucky wasn't born until the eighties, but Steve is still Captain America) until Steve accidentally dials the wrong number. Wherein there is a lot of texting, some advice via Natasha and Darcy, a bit of pining, and a first date in an amusement park. Oh, and on top of being a disabled veteran, Bucky is a professional catwalker. Literally.

Peter Parker's Home for the Wayward Villain (ao3) - BeanieBaby peter/wade, steve/bucky, pepper/tony T, 90k

Summary: A really long redemption story.

research and disaster (ao3) - blueh T, 9k

Summary: the interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

Say You Don't Know Me (or Recognize My Face) (ao3) - ShowMeAHero matt/foggy G, 2k

Summary: Daredevil is kind of dark and broody. He doesn't want anyone to know his real name, he never smiles, and he has kind of a loner attitude.

Matt Murdock, on the other hand, is completely unrecognizable to Jessica the first time she really sees him.

The Great Disney Marathon (ao3) - MisguidedFeelingsofaDreamWeaver30 steve/natasha, scott/hope, gamora/peter, pepper/tony T, 26k

Summary: The Avengers embark on a mission: The Great Disney Marathon. As they watch, they find themselves comparing their lives to the animated stories onscreen.

Inspired by the many parallels between Marvel and Disney.

Prompts filled: Domestic Avengers, Romanogers, Peter Parker, Tony Stark

The Less You Know (ao3) - Nokomis G, 3k

Summary: Peter comes to regret telling the Avengers about the Captain America PSAs.

This Wasn't What the Brochure Promised (ao3) - kahn steve/tony T, 7k

Summary: "Do you think this is still a training exercise, or did we just get our asses handed to us by actual bad guys?" asked Clint.

Tony, Steve, Clint and Bruce spend quality time together in a cave. Tony does not build another arc reactor (even if he sort of needs one). Steve is all Protective Leader. Clint is terrifyingly good with a knife. Bruce bleeds and snarks. There is banter and embarassing amounts of schmoop and the boys get very touchy-feely.

Three Men in a VW (ao3) - Brokenpitchpipe steve/bucky T, 3k

Summary: Steve steps back into the car and closes the door, lips still tingling.

“You don’t like blondes,” Bucky says.

Sam chokes.

who's the kid? (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor N/R, 2k

Summary: The Avengers arrive back at the tower after everything that's happened with the Sokovia Accords. They expect everything to be the same, but it's not. Now there's a kid living at the tower and the Avengers think he's more than just Tony's "personal assistant". Natasha and Wanda are determined to find out the truth.

[woodworkzz]

Number 6? You can choose who the other person mentioned is.

After days of The Agonies (being sick and sleeping the whole day), I managed to finish it. Hope you enjoy!

6. “So according to _____, you’re in love with me, too?” “Oh, that fucking bast— wait, did you just say too?” 

"Harry, you ought to help me. I think I might be going insane." Tony whispers, horrified, clutching Harry's shoulders.

"Hey, bud, calm down. What's going on?" Harry replies in a similar tone.

"It's Paige. I can't stop thinking about her, it's- it's like I'm obsessed! I think she finally managed to drive me crazy!" He's exasperated, his crimson pupils begging for help. "I can't do anything without thinking about her. Every song I listen to, every movie I watch... Fuck, I went to a pond yesterday to clear my mind and all I could think about was how she'd love watching the fish. I can't live like this!"

Harry couldn't help but snicker. "I think I know what that's all about."

"Quit laughing! What is it?"

"You're in love, mate." He shrugged. "Simple as that."

Tony's reaction made it seem like he'd been told his death sentence. His shoulders dropped, and his eyes went wide. He nervously ran his fingers through his raven hair.

"It can't be. There must be some other answer."

"If you don't wanna listen, that's fine. But she likes you too, if that helps."

"She does?" He asks, a tinge of hope gleaming in his eyes.

"Yeah, she's even got a collection of pictures of your dead body. She made me see them all. Like, at knifepoint. And I had to agree with her that you looked 'very cute' stuffed inside a freezer with both legs broken."

"That sounds like her, alright. Maybe I should talk to her."

"Please don't tell her I told you this. I'd rather not get killed today."

"Don't worry about it."

And with that, Tony heads to the upper floor. More specifically, to Paige's room.

Paige finished the last details of a landscape painting when she heard knocking on her door.

"Yes?"

"Paige, I wanna talk to you!" Tony's voice sounded from the other side, his smile shining through his words.

She sighs, tucking a sharpened pencil behind her ear and walking to the door. "If you're gonna decapitate me again, I just want you to know that the first time you did that was so boring I'm glad I died."

The door opens and there he stands, grinning as if he had found her weakest spot. It gave her chills, but she couldn't confirm if it was because it startled her. It could be... Something else.

"Why, you're all smiles today." She comments, in that venomous tone he couldn't help but adore.

"Of course I am. Care to guess why?"

"No."

"Well, Paige dearest. You see, a certain someone told me you find me cute."

Her shoulders tense up, but she tries to maintain her mannerisms calm and uncaring. "Well, that person was a liar." Her arms rest crossed over her chest as she spoke. "Sorry to ruin your day."

"Aw, Paige, there's no need to lie. If it consoles you," His hand rests on her waist. "He also told me I'm in love with you."

Her face goes from white to stormy gray in seconds, her hand resting over his almost by instinct.

"Is this some sort of trick? Because if it is, it's your worst one yet." Her hand pries his fingers off her waist, pushing Tony's hand back to him.

"I promise you it is not."

She scoffs. "And since when are your promises worth anything?"

He leans closer to her, and whispers. "Paige, I'm going to be very honest with you. This has been driving me crazy, and now that Harry told me what it was, I-"

"Harry told you?! Get out of my way, I have to find him." She slithered past him, her heels angrily clicking against the wooden floors.

"Not so fast." He tangles his fingers in the roots of her hair, forcing her to turn around and pressing her onto his chest. "Now that we're both aware of the situation," He purrs, his arms loosely wrapping around her waist. "Why not do something about it?"

She huffs, yet her hands reach for the lapels of his coat. "Such as?"

"Well, darling, we have-"

He's interrupted by long nails clutching onto his scalp, pulling him down towards her. Their lips meet and she takes control, smudging her black lipstick with little care. She tastes him; him and the copper used to make his gears, him and the bitter black coffee he has every day. His initial shock rendered him immobile, but soon he gives in, enjoying the sting of acrylic paint smeared across his lips.

At last they part, and Paige chuckles almost triumphantly. "You talk too much."

"You're too impulsive." He retorted.

"Oh, but you love me."

"And you love me too."

[amichandsaini]

HBO Max's Best: The Top 10 Shows You Have to Stream

In the vast sea of streaming platforms, HBO Max stands out as a treasure trove of premium content, boasting a library filled with acclaimed series spanning various genres. With a lineup that caters to diverse tastes, choosing what to watch can be daunting. Fear not, as we embark on a journey to unlock HBO Max's best, presenting the top 10 shows you simply have to stream.

Game of Thrones:

Let's start with the juggernaut that redefined television fantasy. "Game of Thrones" transcended the small screen to become a cultural phenomenon. Adapted from George R.R. Martin's epic fantasy series, this show offers a sprawling narrative filled with political intrigue, epic battles, and unforgettable characters. Whether you're drawn to the power struggles of Westeros or the intricate plotting of its noble houses, "Game of Thrones" delivers an immersive experience like no other.

Station Eleven:

Adapted from Emily St. John Mandel's novel, "Station Eleven" is a post-apocalyptic drama that follows a group of survivors navigating a world ravaged by a devastating pandemic. As they struggle to rebuild civilization and preserve art and culture, they grapple with loss, hope, and the enduring power of human connection. With its poignant storytelling and resonant themes, "Station Eleven" offers a poignant reflection on the fragility of life and the resilience of the human spirit. Fans eagerly anticipate Station Eleven Season 2 to continue the captivating journey of these characters in a world forever changed by catastrophe.

The Sopranos:

Widely regarded as one of the greatest television series of all time, "The Sopranos" is a groundbreaking drama that explores the life of mob boss Tony Soprano. With its complex characters, moral dilemmas, and dark humour, this show paved the way for the golden age of television we enjoy today. Dive into the world of organised crime as Tony juggles the demands of his family, business, and therapy sessions in this compelling and often unpredictable series.

The Wire:

A masterclass in storytelling, "The Wire" offers a gritty and realistic portrayal of life in Baltimore, Maryland. Through its exploration of the city's institutions – from law enforcement to schools to the drug trade – this series paints a nuanced picture of urban America. With its sprawling ensemble cast and social commentary, "The Wire" challenges viewers to confront difficult truths about society while delivering riveting drama.

Chernobyl:

A hauntingly powerful miniseries, "Chernobyl" chronicles the events surrounding the 1986 nuclear disaster in Soviet Ukraine. With its meticulous attention to detail and harrowing portrayal of the human cost of negligence, this show is as educational as it is emotionally resonant. Witness the bravery of those who risked their lives to contain the fallout and the devastating impact of a catastrophic failure in this gripping historical drama.

Succession:

Mixing family drama with corporate intrigue, "Succession" follows the dysfunctional Roy family as they vie for control of their media conglomerate. Sharp writing, brilliant performances, and biting satire make this series a must-watch. Whether you're fascinated by the cutthroat world of business or drawn to the complexities of familial relationships, "Succession" offers plenty of twists and turns to keep you hooked.

Westworld:

Delving into the intersection of artificial intelligence and morality, "Westworld" is a mind-bending sci-fi thriller set in a futuristic amusement park populated by lifelike robots. As the lines between human and machine blur, questions of identity, consciousness, and free will take centre stage. With its stunning visuals, philosophical themes, and labyrinthine plot, "Westworld" is sure to stimulate both the intellect and the imagination.

Watchmen:

A bold and provocative reimagining of the iconic graphic novel, "Watchmen" tackles issues of race, power, and justice in America. Set in an alternate history where superheroes are real and vigilantes are outlawed, this series offers a timely exploration of systemic racism and the legacy of trauma. With its thought-provoking narrative and stellar cast, "Watchmen" is as relevant as it is riveting.

Big Little Lies:

Based on the novel by Liane Moriarty, "Big Little Lies" is a gripping drama that delves into the secrets and scandals lurking beneath the surface of a picturesque California town. With its powerhouse cast led by Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman, and Shailene Woodley, this series offers a compelling mix of mystery, intrigue, and social commentary. Dive into the lives of these complex women as they navigate friendship, motherhood, and betrayal.

Mare of Easttown:

Rounding out our list is "Mare of Easttown," a gripping crime drama set in a small Pennsylvania town. Kate Winslet delivers a tour-de-force performance as Mare Sheehan, a troubled detective investigating a murder while grappling with personal demons. With its atmospheric setting, richly drawn characters, and compelling mystery, "Mare of Easttown" is a must-watch for fans of gripping storytelling and top-notch acting.

Conclusion

HBO Max is home to some of the most compelling and critically acclaimed television shows ever made. Whether you're a fan of fantasy epics, gritty dramas, or thought-provoking sci-fi, there's something for everyone to enjoy. So grab your remote, settle in, and prepare to be entertained by the best that HBO Max has to offer.

[tonystarktogo]

(this could’ve been) a villain’s origin story part III

Tony lied.

Which is to say, he didn’t lie because lying would imply that he knows for a fact that what he’s said isn’t true. Which he doesn’t. Just because Tony has Opinions™ on supes doesn’t mean he’s got friends -- or even half-way stable contacts really -- among them.

[You have to understand, supes do not tolerate outsiders any better than unenhanced people tolerate supes. And tolerate is already one of the highest possible achievements. To say that relations between the enhanced and unenhanced segments of society are strained would be a gross understatement.

And who can blame them? Either of them?]

[How dare they?]

So Tony honestly has no clue why supes avoid professional medical attention like criminals on the run no matter their alignment or security labeling. He can guess though. Oh boy can he guess.

[After all, there is no such thing as a naturally enhanced human.]

Long, bleak hallways, empty of life.

Acceptable failure [read: mortality] rates.

‘For the Greater Good.’

[What does it take to make a human? What does it take to improve the design?]

What do you do with a weapon you can’t neutralise once the war is over? 

Tony probably isn’t the first unenhanced to offer his services to the supe community. Certainly isn’t the first activist to fight for their rights, to criticize the status quo, to reach out and offer.

Maybe some of those other people meant well. Maybe some didn’t. Maybe some where accepted, maybe they weren’t. It doesn’t matter. Tony Stark has never been the type to sit and wait for others to find him. He’s never been the type to stop, simply because his efforts aren’t wanted. He’d never have gotten anywhere in life if he did.

So Tony stumbles upon the bloodied, motionless figure of the Winter Soldier -- clearly recognizable by the goggles and the metal arm, even with the blood everywhere and the ruined costume. And he drags him to his store, a small garage that may or may not have five more levels underneath it than any official plans would show. Really, the design would do any supervillain proud.

And Tony is nervousworriedexcited about his first, not-yet-conscious customer, but he isn’t stupid.

[Which is to say JARVIS politely reminds him.]

He doesn’t drag the Winter Soldier into the med section. Because the med section is for Tony’s own accidents that occur more often than the long-suffering JARVIS would like, the old spoilsport, but it’s also bright neon lights and surgically clean surfaces and disinfectant heavy in the air.

The workshop -- messy, messy, messy, oil smoke and fire-extinguishing foam everywhere -- it is.

There Tony sets about ridding the Winter Soldier of his ruined clothes -- hello, abs -- though the goggles stay firmly on once JARVIS’ scan confirms that there’s no serious damage on the guy’s face because Tony can politely respect a secret identity, okay, that’s a boundary if he ever heard one and he can totally respect that, no matter how curious it makes him, shut up JARVIS.

The supe’s wounds aren’t actually that bad, which brings Tony to the slightly uncomfortable realization that most of the blood on the guy isn’t his own. Yuck. Although that makes his job easier -- Tony might have plenty experience with first aid, but he’s really not that kind of doctor -- so Tony puts the matter out of his mind.

After having taken care of the wounds -- the deeper cuts are already knitting themselves together, so Tony doesn’t bother stitching those, just plasters his collection of Teletubby band-aids all over them and calls it a job well-done -- and covering the guy with a blanket -- though JARVIS reminds him to also leave sweatpants and a shirt within easy reach, just in case this guy isn’t running on the super-hot side of the temperature scale [there’s no question about his rating on the hot-ness scale, 10s all the way] or is shy or something, not that Tony really grasps the concept of shyness -- Tony focuses on the important thing.

Namely the metal arm.

Which is the coolest thing Tony has ever seen and his fingers are already twitching to reach out and make it better.

Now, Tony isn’t good with boundaries. He really, really isn’t, just ask JARVIS. 

[Asking Tony will get you nothing, safe perhaps for an incomprehensive stare and a “Of course I’m not stalking you, I was just curious and look, I got you a new TV and a better internet connection because that thing was a travesty and your landlord should be fired, now there’s an idea, hang on for a sec--” because he honestly doesn’t get it. People are so confusing and needlessly complicated sometimes.]

But even Tony gets that working on some guy’s arm while he’s unconscious and injured might be taking things a step too far. If only because JARVIS made him read all those articles on medical consent and patient confidentiality. Though that was, admittedly, for a very different reason.

[Tony doesn’t wonder whether the Winter Soldier lost his arm in an accident or whether it was decided that a literal inbuilt firearm would be more convenient. He doesn’t wonder whether anyone even asked the guy-- Nope, totally not going there.

He already knows the answer anyway.]

There’s no harm in taking a look at JARVIS’ scans while he makes himself a hot chocolate and waits for the guy to wake up though. The thought of a hot chocolate makes Tony wonder if his customer would appreciate one... if he has the grip precision to hold a cup with his metal hand without breaking it... if the sensors can be fine-tuned... if there could be heating pads inserted in his palm to warm a cup via hand... or burn an enemy... or--

Somehow that hot chocolate never does get made.

Instead, half an hour later, when JARVIS flashes code RED for the first time since Tony implemented his new and improved warning system, Tony is neck-deep in the design of a portable heating system strong enough to melt through an average safe door.

It’s more surprise than fear at seeing code RED in action that has Tony ducking, narrowly avoiding a metal wrench to the head, and grabbing the first two things he can get his hands on to defend himself.

Which ends up being an eraser and a open pack of marshmallows that were supposed to go into his never made hot chocolate. Wonderful.

Tony hesitantly stares up at the Winter Soldier in all his half-naked, very much armed glory -- where the fuck did he hide that knife?!? -- carefully edging away to put a table between himself and the possibly confused supe. JARVIS doesn’t say a word, but Tony doesn’t have to glance at the flashing screen to know his overprotective AI wants him to enact Protocol SKYNET For The Win. Which-- Tony never would meet any interesting people if he let JARVIS bully him into activating his idea of appropriate protection every time he encountered a tiny set-back.

So.

“Want some marshmallows?”

*

This ‘verse is not getting out of control, whatever gave you that idea?

[omg-just-peachy]

Omg this was sooooo cute.

…and now I’m thinking of times the rest of the team lets Steve and Tony get away with breaking the “no kissing during missions” rule: when one of them is hurt and they can’t get to safety right away 😈

Imagine Tony being hurt and Steve cradling him and giving him gentle little kisses to try and make him feel better while the team is hiding out. No one would dare try and enforce the rule (maybe Clint does jokingly and gets scolded lol), Tony appreciates Steve rebellion in this regard💔💔❤️💔

ahhh ty <3 here is another snippet, this time of a mission gone wrong and everyone worrying...

****

"Tony? Sweetheart, it's just me, okay? I'm going to set you down over here, alright?" Steve's words were blurry, sounding just far enough away that Tony knew it was Steve, but very little else. He heard himself groan, the sound followed by more muted words.

"He's... He's going to be okay, right? Isn't that what the doctor said?" Natasha that time, and Tony was feeling more awake by the minute.

"He said he hoped that would be the case. It won't be until we talk to Helen that we can really know for sure. The arc reactor shouldn't sustain that much water damage and he was already so..." Steve stopped, his voice thick.

"He'll be okay," another voice chimed in. "It's Tony, he's always okay." There was an edge to that last part, broken and breathy in a way that Tony was unfamiliar with Bruce being.

"Our Man of Iron will be right as rain as soon as we're home," Thor said, and Tony could almost picture the uncertain frown creasing his eyebrows.

Clint cleared his throat. "Yeah he's... he'll be..."

A silence hung thick and heavy throughout the room, and Tony wanted to tell them not to be so fucking dramatic, that he was right here in the room, but his head was so heavy, his chest felt like it had an elephant or five sitting on top of it, and he was fairly sure he couldn't string a coherent sentence together if his life depended on it.

His life probably did depend on it.

There was a quick squeeze just then, a pressure at his wrist followed by more muffled words. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? I love you." A lighter pressure, more sure this time. Steve, again, Tony knew, deep down, that only Steve could pair words so heavy with a kiss so light.

There were more words after that, muttered, muted conversations that Tony's brain couldn't focus on, followed by silence. Then, the sound of Steve's voice, always Steve, every time Tony could maintain consciousness long enough to focus.

It wasn't until he felt something hot and wet on his face that Tony was able to muster the strength to finally, finally pry his eyes open, blinking up at Steve from beneath a haze of heavy medication.

"Damn Rogers, no need to cry over spilled superhero," Tony heard himself say. There was another long silence, followed by the sound of more sobs, relieved this time, he was almost positive. "That was terrible, even for me. Dad joke dumpster fire."

"...Tony? You're... You look— You're okay?" Steve fumbled to get the words out, exhaustion and worry painting his beautiful features.

"Someone got to me just in time," Tony said, and did his best to grin charmingly up at Steve.

"Tony, it was so close, I almost... you almost..." Steve stopped himself.

"But I didn't, and you did," Tony reassured him. When Steve reached over to cup his cheek in his big, warm palm, Tony couldn't help but lean into the touch. Couldn't help but let Steve kiss him all over, from his lips to his cheeks and his nose and forehead, like he was cataloging every part of Tony, looking for some missing piece.

"You're okay," Steve said, more sure this time.

"M'okay," Tony agreed. "Little banged up, head's too fuzzy for me to be my usual charming self."

"You're always charming," Steve said immediately, making them both smile.

"S'why I love you. Hey, no one better give us any shit for kissing this time," he added, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to Steve's lips.

Steve looked confused for a minute, then shook his head in disbelief. "You're not really still talking about—"

"I wouldn't be if you would get over here and kiss it all better," Tony quipped.

Steve kissed him, long and slow and full of enough reassurance for the both of them, the hospital machines beeping all around them, a sigh of life, a promise that Tony would be just fine.

[russiandoll-from-brooklyn]

Just Once - Part 2

Title: Just Once - Part 2

Some of y'all were asking for Part 2 of Just Once so here ya go! This picks up right after the first story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Summary: Grief and loneliness got the best of you last night. Your friendship with Tony was too precious to risk, and now all you want to do is move on. But what happens when the other party doesn't want to forget?

Warnings: smut, language, (technically) cheating, friends to lovers, mentions of past canon trauma, oral (f receiving), protected sex

Word Count: 5.1k

[Starts out sweet and all about tony x reader friendship, then turns into steamy Tony smut. Table sex, included. 😳]

---

Thump, thump, thump.

Your feet hit the pavement rhythmically as you jog your normal morning route. It’s a misty Seattle morning, and the world is still quiet. The sun is rising sleepily, beginning to bathe the world in gold. All is well.

Except. It isn’t.

You turn the block corner, and your apartment comes into sight. You take a glance down at your watch.

42 minutes.

That’s how long ago you had quietly slipped out of your apartment for your morning run. That’s how long it had been since your eyes shot open and you remembered the events of last night, rushing into your mind, all at once like a tsunami. You had turned your head to find Tony still asleep beside you in the bed. One leg sticking out of the messy sheets and his face buried in the pillow. Your pillow.

You had stared at him in disbelief, half-expecting him to disintegrate into a fleeting figment of your imagination. You had rubbed your eyes, trying to clear the haze.

Nope. Still there.

You silently curse yourself and your stupidity (see: weakness in the face of sexual temptation) for the 50th time this morning as you approach the brick building. Perhaps, when you reenter your apartment, Tony will be gone, and this will all have just been a bad trip — or something of the like.

Before you even open the door, the smell of frying bacon reaches your nose. You step inside and are greeted by a peculiar sight.

Tony Stark, clad in nothing but a pair of dark jeans, is buzzing about your small kitchenette. Simultaneously, there are eggs being flipped over-easy on the stovetop, orange juice being procured from the open fridge, bacon sizzling happily in a pan, and toast being buttered. You stand in amazement for a few seconds, processing the scene before you. The wonderful aroma of the all-American breakfast makes you mouth water.

“Y/N! Hey!” Tony exclaims when he sees you.

You slide onto a stool at the bar top, overlooking the controlled chaos unfolding in the kitchen area. Tony truly has remarkable skill when it comes to multitasking. You guess, all that time in the suit, operating about twenty computing systems at once, was good practice.

“Wow. Breakfast?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you cook?”

He scoffs, shooting you a brief smile before turning away to rapidly crack some black pepper onto the eggs.

“Cooking is easy. People think it’s a skill, but really it’s just planning, timing it out. It’s like assembling anything else. You just do the parts in order, trying not to break any yolks.”

You roll your eyes sarcastically at the classic “Tony” response.

Suddenly, all the components come crashing together, and Tony is setting down two perfectly assembled breakfast plates on the bar top — complete with a glass of orange juice for each of you. It looks delicious; it’s been way too long since you had a proper breakfast. Meaning, a breakfast that wasn’t cereal, a protein bar, or a bowl of sad, pale, scrambled eggs. You thank Tony as he pulls up the other stool to sit across from you.

“Dig in,” he says cheerfully, raising his fork. “Good run this morning?”

You nod, taking a big gulp of orange juice.

“Yeah, I heard you leaving,” Tony continues mindlessly. “Kind of weird waking up to an empty bed after a night like that. I finally know what it feels like to be on the other side, I guess.”

You nearly spit out your bite of toast. And just like that, reality comes crashing back down to earth. For a brief moment, it had felt like things could possibly come out normal on the other side. You and Tony could go back to being perfectly normal best friends.

How ignorant.

“What?” you remark incredulously.

You’re on the verge of laughter, partially out of amusement but mostly out of bewildered embarrassment.

Tony gives you his award-winning “I’m innocent!” raised-eyebrow expression. You suddenly become acutely aware of the situation. Tony Stark is sitting in your kitchen, shirtless, serving you breakfast. After you spent a far-from-platonic night rolling around your sheets together. You want to slap yourself.

“I’m talking about the incredible sex we had last night. And then, you leaving me alone before sunrise,” Tony explains casually, pushing your buttons further. “That's usually my play.”

He looks up at you, expecting a playful quip in return. Instead, you just slowly set down the fork you had been gripping.

“Tony,” you begin, seriously and calmly. “Let’s not talk about it. It was one night, and it won’t happen again. It was just once. We gave into the moment, but we shouldn’t-“

“The moment?” Tony suddenly blurts out, interrupting you. You purse your lips, surprised by the new and unexpected edge of anger in his voice. “God. Y/N. The moment, huh? You’re really just going to shrink it down to that. Just a moment.”

You stare at him, confused. Tony’s big brown eyes hold yours with an intensity. It's amazing how fast his sarcastic, playful tone can morph into ferocity. You want to look away, break his gaze, but you can’t. This whole thing was a mistake.

“It was fun,” you finally say. “But it was just a fuck. We were lonely.”

“You know, Y/N. You’re so damn smart,” Tony replies, leaning back a bit in his seat. “So, why do you always try and kid yourself? It bothers me. I know -- that you know -- that this wasn’t just a fuck.”

Your mind races through a million different responses.

Then, what was it?

What do you mean?

Why are you acting like this?

I'm not kidding myself.

But something tells you, deep down, that there's nothing you can say that won't lead to something you don't want to hear.

So, instead, you angrily snatch up your glass of orange juice, rising from your seat at the bar. You grit your teeth at Tony one more time before turning your back and striding toward to your study. You feel your cheeks burning hot.

The study is a second living room-sized space where you keep all your projects. Early sunlight is now streaming in through the large windows, falsely giving the impression of a peaceful Saturday morning. The large wooden table tops are littered with wires, microchips, and other electronic parts. When you first met the Avengers year ago, you and Tony butted heads over your shared expertise in technology and robotics. After much bickering and trying to outdo each other, you eventually accepted one another's intelligence and bonded over your shared field.

You look to the floor of your large study to see the air mattress you had set up there prior to Tony's arrival yesterday, obviously still pristine. You squeeze your eyes shut. Your apartment is absolutely dripping with reminders of last night's events. The empty whiskey glasses, still sitting on the side table in the living room. The couch pillows crumpled from the weight of your bodies, hungrily crashing together above them. You don't even want to think about your bedroom, where you're sure Tony's missing shirt is strewn on the ground.

You push the thoughts out of your your mind, pulling up a seat at your work table. You start to fiddle with a new lightweight shoulder pauldron you're currently designing. You can feel yourself going into 'shut-out' mode, trying your hardest to focus all your attention on the metal in your hands. This was all too much. This was all wrong.

When you hear footsteps behind you, entering the study, you ignore it. Tony quietly traverses the floor, coming to pull up a chair on the other side of the work table. He silently watches you working the wires into place. You don't look up. You don't have to see his expression to know the contemplative expression undoubtably painted on his face. You also don't have to look at him to know he's pondering more than just your work.

"You know, aluminum-titantium alloy won't hold up after a few heavy hits," Tony comments, nodding to the armor piece.

"I'm gonna chromatize it," you reply dryly, not looking up from your hands.

"I wouldn't bother. You can't just give everything a shiny coat to hold it together. If the problem is underneath, that is."

Fuck Tony and his fucking metaphors.

You growl angrily, throwing the pauldron down in frustration. You sit back in your seat and cross your arms, finally meeting your friend's eyes.

"Ok, fine," you say matter-of-factly. "Let's talk about it. It was good. It was really fucking good. And we both needed it. But that's it. I'm willing to leave it at that and forget about it if you are."

Tony rubs his beard in his palm, seemingly mulling over your words. His brown eyes don't leave yours. The warm sunlight coming in through the window behind him paints yellow patches on his bare shoulders, bathing him in gold. You take a mental picture of him, sitting there in his thoughts. A brief, intrusive thought passes through your mind, threatening that this could be the last time you see him. You immediately banish the notion. This friendship means too much to you. Not even a fuck-up as big as this one could make you want to toss it away. You hope Tony agrees.

"Help me understand where your head's at, Y/N," Tony finally replies. "What is your biggest concern right now? Wait, listen, I know there's a lot of reasons why last night was bad. But I want to know what you're thinking."

You sigh, uncrossing your arms. As much as Tony's 'list-and-analyze' reaction to crisis could be annoying, in some ways, it comforted you. Tony is impulsive, yes, but those who know him best also know his calculative nature: the mental risk assessments, the contingency plans labelled through Z. Always searching for the route that will hurt everyone the least. Always.

You consider his question carefully. Again, there's a million answers: the risk of ruining your friendship, the potential awkwardness, Pepper -- oh, god, Pepper --, the pain and grief you've both been through in the past few years. You close your eyes and pick one.

"You're one of the only people left that I trust. One of my only friends. Complexity doesn't often end well."

"You're right," Tony admits. "But aren't you the one who asked, 'is it wrong to not want to be alone'?"

You scoff loudly, angered by his using your words against you. However, that bitterness melts away into nothing when you see the heart-wrenching expression on Tony's face. His lips are pursed, and his eyes are searching yours desperately. Tony rarely shows outward weakness, but right now, the man before you isn't Iron Man. The man before you is broken. Someone who has tried everything to hold it -- his sanity, his relationship, his life -- together, to save the people he loves, to be strong. Someone who failed at that. Someone who truly felt alone.

You rest your chin in your palms and sigh, the weight falling over you as well.

Finally, you speak.

"Isn't it awful -- and strange -- how it can feel like a lifetime ago and just yesterday at the exact same time?"

Tony nods sadly at your observation. Of course, you were talking about the snap. About Thanos.

"You're right. About everything," he remarks. "Sometimes, it just gets too much. The...”

Loneliness. You finish his sentence in your head.

“Me too.”

“You should know though,” Tony continues. “I would never stop being your friend. No matter how complex things are. This — what we���ve been through — could never change, Y/N.”

There it is.

Some situations feel like you're running in circles; you're spiraling downwards and everything you say only makes matters worse and worse. It feels like sinking in quicksand with no way out. In every one of those situations, there's a key -- that one sentence, that one idea, that effortlessly clears the fog. This was it. Tony is going to be here, always. Everything is going to be alright.

You straighten up a bit in your seat. You let out a long sigh and give Tony a small smile.

"I know," you assure your friend. "Sometimes I forget everything that's happened. How complicated it's been before. How we made it out."

Tony laughs, and you're relived.

"How could you forget? It's been a wild ride."

The two of you grin at each other. You take a sip of your orange juice, which you had forgotten about and was now lukewarm.

"OK, happy?" you inquire with a playful tone. "Base material fixed. No need for shiny coats of anything. We're solid now."

Tony lets out a hearty chuckle at the stupid analogy. Suddenly, he stands, circling the work table until he's right in front of you. You suck in a breath of oxygen. From your seated position, your head only comes up to his abs. Bare abs, that is. You tilt your face upwards to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," he says gently. “Stand up.”

Confused, you rise to your feet. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, Tony’s lean and muscular arms are wrapped around you. He pulls you into his chest, embracing you in his warmth. His grip is firm, as if he’s afraid you might run away. You soften into the hug, wrapping your arms around his back. You feel safe.

After a few moments, Tony releases you. However, he doesn’t move away, and the two of you are still nearly chest-to-chest. You peer up at him, and your friend’s warm toffee eyes meet yours.

“Wow, a Tony Stark hug?” you remark sarcastically. “I should play the lotto today.”

Tony chuckles under his breath. Despite your joking, it was true that Tony rarely gives hugs. He just isn’t the touchy-feely type — according to himself. Somehow this gesture, right now, meant everything. A hug was the most intimate thing Tony could have given you. It was a seal, a mark saying ‘I meant every word I just said.’

Tony is still standing directly in front of you, so close there’s only a magazine’s width between you. He’s so near that you can feel the warmth of his steady breathing, and the slight radiating heat from the arc reactor in his chest. Suddenly, you feel that familiar tug in your stomach. A rush of blood downwards...

“Tony-“

“Do you want me?” Tony cuts you off. His voice is low, gentle.

You suck in a breath of air at his words. Despite his directness, there's a detectable edge of nervousness in his tone. You smile internally at knowing you have this effect on Mr. Playboy. The slight uncertainty in Tony's voice also tells you that it's true: this is different. Last night was not just a mindless fuck. This is an understanding, wrapped around a mutual care that runs so deep that it burns.

You don’t even try to convince yourself that you don’t want Tony. Every ounce of your being is screaming to close the gap between you. You can still hear the scientist-logic-brain in you resisting, but your heart feels at ease. You and Tony. A concept that felt like the forbidden fruit itself just ten minutes ago now looked more like an oasis. And oasis that was maybe alright to take a drink from every once in a while.

You snake one hand upward to hold his cheek. Tony pushes gently into your palm.

It's you who leans in first. When your lips collide, it's soft. He presses himself into you, a delicate sigh escaping. You pull back just enough to whisper a breathy "I want you."

And oh, god do you want him.

“Then, have me,” Tony whispers back, gently.

You nearly visibly shiver. Any trace of hesitation is gone from his voice now. His words are demanding, but his tone is more of a plea.

“Do you want to go the bedroom?”

“No,” Tony replies immediately. He’s breathless. “Right here.”

You immediately feel wetness drop into your panties. Tony’s eyes have grow darker, as they bear down at you. The intensity makes your legs feel weak. You need him. He needs you.

In a moment of boldness, you bring your hands down to the hemline of your shirt. You lift the garment up and over your head, placing it on the work table beside you. Tony’s eyes wander to your red sports bra and your now-stiffened nipples showing through the sleek fabric.

In the next breath, Tony is suddenly kissing you again, his lips against yours in a desperate hunger. He brings his large, roughly calloused hands to your waist. He firmly grips your body, making you feel tiny in his hold. You let a small moan escape your lips.

Still holding you in his grasp, Tony starts to walk you backwards until your backside is pressed against the edge of your large work table. Tony’s hips press forward into you, making you gasp with excitement. You fingertips tangle in his hair, just wanting more and more and more...

In an effortless movement, Tony lifts your sports bra over your head. He throws the red fabric to the side, neither of you caring where it lands. Tony breaks away from your lips, starting to kiss down your cheek, jaw, and then finally giving attention to the delicate skin on your neck. Again, he’s careful not to nip or suck too hard to leave marks. The light scratching of his facial hair contrasts with the soft wetness of Tony’s lips, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

He continues to attend to your neck and jaw as one of his jean-clad thighs moves to fall between your legs. You let out a deep groan as Tony begins to rub and and roll his knee forward, stimulating your clothed core. His movements are like a wave, every forward crest bringing you a tiny bit of that friction your body wants so, so much. You’re in awe of the control Tony has over his movements and the effortless pleasure he’s capable of giving. You can’t help but find his experience and expertise sexy.

“Y/N,” Tony breathes against your neck. “Say it again. Please. Say you want me.”

It occurs to you that, aside from last night, Tony hasn’t felt wanted in a long time. Like, truly wanted. A pang of sadness fills your heart.

“Tony. I want you,” you declare, making sure the conviction in your voice shines through. You don’t have to try. You desire him more than anything right now. “I want you. I want this.”

With your words, Tony moans deeply into your jawline and begins to move his leg between yours more vigorously. Your fingertips trace over his bare back muscles. You trail your hands upward, into the nape of his neck, massaging his scalp. Everything about his beautiful form fits perfectly in your hands.

Tony continues moving downwards, soon finding your right nipple in his mouth. You arch your back, letting a loud moan escape your lips. He works your nipple expertly, rolling it and playing at it with his tongue. He alternates to your other nipple, his thumb replacing where his mouth just left. He lightly strokes the hard, spit-slick bud, and the combination of coolness and friction is heaven.

Tony stands back up, and a second later, his hands are at the elastic band of your running shorts. His eyes meet yours for a moment, silently asking for your permission. You nod a bit too eagerly, and Tony cracks a small, teasing smile. You scoff and lightly slap his shoulder, returning the smile.

Tony pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you in just your underwear. Next thing you know, Tony’s arms are around your waist. You let out a soft, surprised squeal as he lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the work table behind you. Slightly elevated now, you come to about the same height as Tony.

“Hey,” you protest playfully. “Be careful. There’s important stuff here.”

Tony reaches behind you to clear the area, moving your half-finished projects and parts to the side.

“My apologies, Ms. Y/L/N,” he replies with a huge grin. “Got a bit carried away.”

You pull him into another deep kiss. He growls with pleasure when you nip at his bottom lip. Tony is now standing between your knees, his torso pressing gently into your panty-covered pussy. You can feel his erection through his jeans, straining against his clothes. After seeing Tony’s length for the first time last night, the mental image of his cock — just a few millimeters away from your core — is enough to make you drool. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him in harder against you. He moans into your mouth, and you feel the vibrations as your tongues tangle together.

You feel Tony’s body leaning forward, slowly coaxing you to lay down on the table. Now fully on your back, Tony’s above you, taking in the sight of your body.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most magnificent creature on Earth?”

“No,” you reply with a smirk. “But now, knowing how many other planets are out there in the galaxy, just being Miss Earth doesn’t seem like a huge deal.”

Tony laughs, smiling with his teeth. You find the crinkles that form on the outer corners of his eyes utterly endearing.

“Well, you’re still one out of four-and-three-quarters billion,” he jests back. “Not too shabby. It’s all about the little victories.”

You giggle. The pleasant thought passes through your mind that despite the current situation, everything does feel strangely normal. Tony is still Tony; you’re still you. The banter between you and your friend is still comfortable and easy. Your relationship, although maybe morphing into something more nuanced, remains unmoved.

You’re so caught up in your inner thoughts, that you don’t register Tony kneeling to the ground between your legs. You gasp when you feel his warm mouth over your still-clothed pussy. The combined wetness of his mouth and your core easily soaks through the fabric of your panties, making it cling to your skin. Tony runs his tongue over your folds, through the saturated cloth. You groan with pleasure, the small of your back arching off of the table. You grip Tony’s dark hair, needing something to hold onto.

The sensation of Tony’s lips and tongue through your thin panties is completely unique, and fuck, does it drive you wild.

After a few minutes, Tony’s hands reach up to hook in the waist of your panties. He removes your final garment, leaving you fully bare. His mouth immediately returns to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, before running downwards through your lips, and then back up again. He alternates this pattern with gentle sucks on your clit.

“Oh, Tony. Shit,” you manage to call out. “That feels so good.”

He hums hungrily into you, pleasuring you to a level that no previous lovers have ever come close to. Tony’s large, rough hands wander upwards. One palm gentle grips your breast, while the other comes under your waist to hold the small of your back.

You raise your head slightly to glance down at Tony. The sight is pornographic. His face is buried in your cunt, head bobbing. The shape of his shoulder muscles, and his strong back. His tan skin, all bathed in golden sunlight.

Pleasuring you. On his knees.

It’s like a painting. Beautiful and erotic.

“Tony. I need you,” you gasp out, suddenly overcome with neediness. “Inside me. Fuck, I want you.”

Those magic words, again. I want you. The effect they have on Tony is instantaneous. Without hesitation, Tony is on his feet. He swiftly unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. His pants fall down to his ankles where he kicks them off. To your surprise his naked cock springs free. A glistening pearl of precum is formed at the tip.

“Wow, commando, huh?” you tease, gently biting at your bottom lip. “You were so confident you were going to get lucky again today?”

“Of course not. I just like to let it breath sometimes,” Tony remarks. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s a man thing.”

You scoff and roll your eyes sarcastically. Lovable idiot.

“Top drawer?” Tony asks, referring to the location of the condoms.

“On the left.”

Tony hurries out of the room and returns a second later with a condom from your bedroom. Stepping closer between your knees, he gives his cock a few pumps in his fist. You can feel your heart quickening with anticipation. Your pussy is nearly pulsing, needing to be stretched and filled.

Tony rips open the shiny wrapper and rolls the condom down onto his length. You scoot slightly closer to the edge of the table as his hands travel to grip your thighs. You moan deeply as Tony rubs the head of his cock over your slit, spreading your moisture.

“Are you ready?” Tony asks, eyes dark with desire.

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Make me feel good.”

With that, Tony starts slowly pushing into your dripping pussy. You groan as your walls accommodate to his girth. It’s amazing that you took him just last night, and he’s already capable of stretching you like this again. Tony throws his head back, hissing in pleasure as he bottoms out, his pubic mound flush against yours.

He starts pumping gently. The way Tony’s hips roll forward in fluid motions makes you want to scream with pleasure. His hands are gripping your thighs tightly, fingertips digging into the soft flesh.

Tony’s pace quickens, and soon the room is filled with sounds of wetness, skin slipping on skin, and the moans leaving both your throats. One of Tony’s hands moves to your pussy. His thumb rubs tight circles on your clit making you see stars behind your eyes. The extra stimulation almost immediately starts tightening the orgasmic coil in your stomach. Tony seems to know the exact speed to move his cock and thumb to turn you into a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Oh, more,” you groan, your pleasure growing. “Tony Stark. Yes, oh, please.”

“Come for me, Y/N,” Tony growls almost primally. “Wanna feel you squeezing around my cock.”

Tony’s filthy demands go straight to your pussy. You love the feeling of being under him, sprawled out on the table, completely naked for him to fuck. And the dirty talk is the cherry on top.

The pleasure in your abdomen continues to rise until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. With one last thrust, your orgasm washes over you. You scream Tony’s name into the room, not caring who hears. Pulses of pleasure rip through your entire body, even making your feet tingle. When you come down, the convulsions slowing, your head feels fuzzy and bubbly.

Not even a moment later, you feel Tony lifting your legs higher. Still inside you, he straightens them, bringing your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The new sensation is instantly nirvana. He starts pumping into you, and the head of his cock rubs your G-spot on every thrust. Penetrative sex had never felt this good for you.

“You feel so fucking amazing, Y/N,” Tony manages to says between moans. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

The feeling of your pussy being pounded in this angle has your eyes rolling back into your skull. All your thoughts seem to leave your head. The only thing you can focus on is the immense pleasure. The sound of Tony’s balls slapping against you wetly with every stroke combined with his desperate moans fill your ears.

Tony’s thrusts start to become more jagged, needy. His moans slowly transform more into whimpers as he continues to fuck into you. Suddenly, Tony comes with a series of loud groans, his eyes shut tight. You feel his dick pulsating inside you as he orgasms. He thrusts a few more times, riding out the last waves.

He gently slides out of you, his hands coming down the tabletop next to your waist to steady himself. Both of you are breathing heavily, your bodies radiating with the afterglow of pleasure.

Silently, Tony helps you to stand before sweeping you up easily in his arms. You lean into his chest as he carries you to the bedroom. Tony lays you down carefully on the cool mattress before hurrying to the bathroom. He returns a moment later with a warm washcloth.

After cleaning yourselves up, Tony crawls into the refreshing sheets beside you. He slips one arm under your neck, and you cuddle in closer to his body. The warmth and smoothness of his skin is so, so welcoming. In the strangest way, it feels natural.

“I didn’t think it was possible to top last night,” you finally say, chuckling.

“Me neither,” Tony replies. “I guess we just have good chemistry.”

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh and drape an arm over his chest. “Hey, question.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you cook all that stuff earlier? Like the eggs, toast, the whole nine yards. It was sort of...”

“Out of character?” Tony finishes your sentence.

You nod. Tony takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

“Honestly, when I woke up, and you were gone, I was freaking out a little bit. I wanted to talk about last night, but you weren’t there, and I just didn’t know what you were thinking. If you were having serious regrets, or if you were angry, or upset with me. Or if you were thinking our whole friendship was burned to the ground.

“I just needed to do something. Anything. Busy my hands, distract my mind. Sorry that I kind of raided your kitchen.”

You turn to peer up at him, letting out a soft laugh. His chocolate eyes meet yours, and you give him a kind smile, endeared by his typical, hyper ramblings.

“I’m sorry I left,” you start. “I was freaking out a little, too. I guess that’s always been a difference between us. I always try to run from the unknown, while you just want to plow straight through it.”

Tony smiles warmly and blinks his gorgeous, thick black eyelashes at you.

“It’s why we make a good pair. Balance. Yin and yang. Ya’ know.”

You both chuckle, content in one another’s arms. You open your mouth to reply, but you’re cut off by a loud growl from your stomach. Tony bursts into laughter.

“Your fault for barely touching breakfast,” Tony remarks playfully. “Which — not to toot my own horn — was quite artfully made.”

“I guess I could settle for a bowl of lowly cereal as punishment,” you reply with mock sadness.

Tony chuckles and shakes his head. He starts to rise from the bed, then offers his hand for you to follow.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some more eggs.”

[imerdwarf]

Sworn To Secrecy

Requested by @imagine-all-the-fandoms: Hey colleague ❤️ I really love your writing! So I also thought to send you an idea 😊 The reader is Bucky’s girlfriend but just a normal civilian and he keeps it a secret at the compound. One day she visits him but crosses the other Avengers and Sam is immediately flirting with you but Bucky just comes, swoops you in his arms and kisses you. The others are shocked and confused and later that day they finally tell them they’ve been together for a while now and they are all happy for you two? 😊

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Civilian!Reader (Modern AU)

Warnings: Absolutely none! Just a lot of fluff 🥰

Author's Notes: Thank you so much my dear friend for sending in this beautiful request, I hope you like it and please let me know if there's anything you want me to change! 💜

Your phone vibrated in the palm of your hand and your smile reached both corners of your eyes when you saw the name light up your screen.

Bucky: I can't wait to see you, how long until you get here?

Your fingers flew quickly over the touch sensitive keyboard to reply back, without any typos might I add.

Y/N: I'm five minutes away. Patience! ;)

The wind blew in your face as you tilted your head upwards and sighed. Your relationship with Bucky Barnes was absolutely not the easiest thing in the world. He had made you sworn to secrecy about it, to protect yourself and him from potential haters and enemies.

You were grateful that you were able to spend a lot of time together when he didn't have month-long missions to go on. The sunny afternoons were spent in your small apartment on the couch watching movies with a blanket draped over the two of you, often accompanied by a hot chocolate made from his secret recipe.

Everything about Bucky screamed safety; his big beefy frame, bulging biceps that he just knew you loved and deliberately bought small sizes to show them off, his thick thighs were a dream for you whenever you draped your legs over them to get comfortable. Nothing about him scared you, not even that matte black and gold Wakandan inspired arm of his. It did wonders when you were burning up with fevers.

You met Bucky by chance at a coffee shop in Brooklyn. It was a cliché moment when you accidentally turned around too quickly and spilled your hot drink over his white shirt. Endless apologies spilled from your lips while Bucky was too busy admiring your beautiful features that your words simply fell on deaf ears. To Bucky, it felt as though time had temporarily stopped ticking, and the only people in the coffee shop at that moment was you and him.

The two of you exchanged numbers with your promises of buying him a brand new shirt to replace the one you ruined. You texted each other every second of every day. The more you talked, the easier and the flirty-er the texts became.

A month after the coffee shop incident, you almost keeled over when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. He regretted he couldn't take you on a date because of his status, and that never really bothered you.

You didn't date him because he was a popular avenger, with a staggering 100 million followers on his Instagram. For your protection, he couldn't follow you either, but that too didn't bother you. You dated him because you loved his personality and you loved him.

You zig-zagged past the oncoming pedestrians as the tower came into view. Outside of the gates there was already a crowd of people hoping to catch a glimpse of the avengers.

The security guard in the booth next to the gate was trying to reason with the crowd, sadly a building this well known attracted all kinds of attention and tourism. You were told that people from Australia would come to visit.

You approached the guard with a friendly smile. "Good afternoon sir," you greeted politely, pulling some I.D out from your purse.

"Good afternoon! Are you expected here today?" The guard smiled but looked over your shoulder to see the crowd was now taking pictures of the front of the tower. He shooed them away and brought his attention back to you.

"Yes, Sergeant James Barnes is expecting me." The way his name rolled off your tongue was like drops of honey. Smooth and sweet.

The guard checked the list of visitors expected today and hummed with a smile.

"So he is. So what you do is, go to the front desk with your visitor badge and they'll direct you to his floor."

With a quiet thanks and holding on tightly to the badge, you walk through the screeching iron gates. Your shoes crunch underneath the gravel and the wind howls through the trees that gives off extra privacy.

The lady at reception greets you warmly and you relax when you give her your name and show her your visitor badge as directed by the security guard.

"Take the elevator and go to floor 13. Sergeant Barnes is currently in a meeting but he won't be too long." Another thank you passes through your lips as you head off towards the glass and chrome elevator.

The ride up to the 13 floors was agonisingly slow. Classical music filled the emptiness of the elevator. The glass casing gave you a beautiful view overlooking the grounds of the compound. A rose garden of all different shades of roses up the far left of the green garden surrounded by cherry blossoms and hydrangeas. Benches scattered across the grounds that you hoped to one day have the pleasure of sitting on and watch the bumblebees.

This was another reason Bucky loved you so much, you were so passionate and kind against wildlife and nature.

Finally, after god knows how long you've been staring out into the garden daydreaming, the elevator doors ding open and you're greeted with a muscular blond God with a red Cape hung over his back and a creepy wide grin on his face. His scruffy hair made you think he hadn't washed it in a few days.

"I was expecting someone else, but hello!" His voice seemed to boom throughout the space of whatever room this actually was. Some kind of hallway, but you're pretty sure you would hear his voice from all the way from that beautiful garden.

"Uh hello!" You stuttered, taken by surprise that there would be other people here.

"I am Thor, the God of Thunder!" His arms went wide and so did his smile. Your mouth gaped open and closed when you recognised the name. Thor. God of thunder. Of course, you read about these gods and how he ruled Asgard. Or was set to.

"Thor! Of course," you chuckled nervously, stretching your hand out in front of you, "I'm Y/N."

"It's a pleasure to meet you! Please follow me and allow me to introduce you to my mortal friends," you chuckled at that line, and adjusted your sweater.

"Friends, mortals! We have a guest, this is Y/N, A human of Earth." Thor stepped aside and your eyes widened; you were only standing in the same room as the avengers, the same people Bucky spoke so highly of. Thor told you the names of the people in front of you, everyone was there and you wondered where the hell Bucky was.

Tony was the first one to step forward and looked you up and down by moving his tinted glasses to the bridge of his nose. You relaxed when he smiled, but only slightly. You realised they had not asked why some stranger was standing in their living room.

"You know who I am?" Tony asked smugly, his arms folded over his chest.

You nodded, your eyes flickered down his chest, his arc reactor lit up in a bright blue. You almost reached out to touch it but stopped yourself before you could.

"Uh yes. You're Tony I believe?" You blushed under their gazes. Bucky told you they were the best people, but to you they were very intimidating.

"Very good. What brings you to my tower?"

"I'm here to see—"

"Wow! Who is this?" A voice yelled out from behind you. A guy you recognised as Sam, or Falcon, or Birdbrain as Bucky liked to call him.

"Y/N!" Thor answered before you could, the rest of the avengers took a seat on the couch.

"Yeah, hi," a small laugh came out and it made your cheeks heat up when his eyes raked over your form.

"My, my. You are gorgeous!" He kept that grin on his lips as he stepped closer. His over-sprayed cologne was suffocating you. "Beautiful, just perfect, just—"

"Mine!" Bucky yelled from the doorway as he stormed past Sam to get to you. You bit your lip to hide the growing grin and failed, he swooped you up in his arms, your legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he spun the two of you around and kissed you.

Cat calls sounded from the couch and you smiled into the kiss. When you pulled away for air, the expressions on everyone's faces told you they needed and wanted an explanation.

You could only imagine the questions they wanted to ask; how did you know Bucky Barnes? How did a soldier and an assassin manage to keep a relationship so hidden under the eyes of a mind-reader and a super intelligent spy? How did Bucky not slip up to Steve about having a girlfriend? All valid questions of course.

Bucky lowered you back down on your feet and pressed his forehead against yours. Without giving the team an answer, he slipped his hand in yours and pulled you away, leaving the superheroes with confusion etched upon their faces.

Bucky gave you a thorough tour of the tower. He showed you the gym, the kitchen where he made you his favourite sandwich, he even showed you his room. It was painted in a light blue with white curtains and blinds, thick, soft cream carpet covered the floor and his bed was as soft as a cloud. It was a lot more comfortable than your bed, that's for sure.

Later that day, Tony ordered a takeout and invited everyone to the dining room to eat, including you. The way Bucky's hand was slung protectively around your shoulder didn't go amiss by anyone in the room. It was when he finally sat down did the questions start.

"Alright, what's the deal with you two? Is this a prank? Is he paying you darling?" Sam fired off first, pointing his fork at the two of you opposite him.

Bucky glared at him from calling you 'darling', from where you were sat you could hear the heavy breathing. Your hand slipped into your lap and into his, giving his thigh a firm squeeze to keep calm.

"Y/N is not being paid!" Bucky defended, outraged he could even think such a thing.

You cleared your throat and took a sip of water before speaking, "it's true and I understand it's a shock but Bucky is actually my boyfriend and has been for the past couple of months," you smiled, proud of the fact you were in a relationship with this man and it was no longer secret.

"How the hell did that happen?" Tony queried, waving his chopsticks in the air, flabbergasted by the whole situation.

"What, you think I'm not capable of meeting people?" Bucky challenged, not really enjoying the interrogation which was the whole reason he didn't want to say anything at the beginning.

"Well of course I wouldn't be surprised if it was Capsicle here but it's you," Tony snorted.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bucky was yelling and turning red with anger when Nat sought the opportunity to take the heat off the two men.

"So, Y/N. Tell us about yourself."

Tags: @smokeybluebrooke-lyn @pinkdiamond1016

[gildedmuse]

Happy Birthday Torao!

Birthday Greetings From The Strawhats

Robin

From the bag delivered via a newscoo, the first thing Law pulls out is a beautifully painted piece of paper elegantly folded into a hand sized coffin. When he opens the lid there is a note that reads:

Enjoy celebrating your 25th year on this Earth, Torao-san (though be cautious of lighting too many celebratory candles in the confided space of your submarine, as it could result in the suffocation of yourself and all your crew.)

🧡🐻‍❄️🧡 Nico Robin

Franky

The whole crew eyes the blue paper with metallic edges as Law unfolds the card. There's a whoooooshing sound followed by some mini explosions than seem either feasible or necessary. It ends with a giant yellow star popping straight up from the center of the cards along with voice recording of robot-ya practically yelling:

Ay! Torao! Hope You're Having One 🌟 SUPER 🌟 Birthday! From your best bro Franky 🌟!

Brook

Next is what seems to have been a Halloween card placed in the bag by mistake judging by the picture of a skeleton marking off days on a calendar. Then Law reads the front text:

Another Year Older...

Ah, yes, Bone-ya. Law opens the card to find the skeletons arm has fallen off with the pen, leaving him unable to cross out the next day on the calendar. Law supposes this is meant to be a humourous reminder of his inevitable death. The card finishes with

Another Year Closer To Death! Happy Birthday You Old Bag Of Bones!

After the card's text has terminated, there is an additional message added in old fashion handwriting:

"From a dear friend of Torao-san who is but an old bag of bones himself! Yohoho!"

His crew is terrible disappointed not to have gotten their hands on a true signature by The Soul King himself.

Nami

Law isn't surprised to see that Nami-ya has picked out a card of herself posing on the beach. Inside the navigator has written:

Happy Birthday Torao 🧡

She's also included a invoice: 25 Berries for the shipping, plus 10 for the card itself.

Sanji

In place of a card, Black Leg-ya has le a recipe for a cake that, according to the attached letter:

"Not even your tasteless flounder of a cook can mess up."

The rest of the lengthy note doesn't bother to mention Law or his birthday, but does go into quite some detail about how he hopes Ikkaku-chahhhn thinks of him as she bites into the fresh passion fruit filling, as the airy softness of the yellow sponge fills her -

That's as a far as anyone on the crew manages to read before Ikakku has shoved the letter into the engine and watched it burn with what Law could only describe as vengeful satisfaction.

Chopper

According to the card with a paw print sealing it shut, Tony-ya had thought that Law might enjoy some sweets for his birthday and had gone to buy him two whole bags, since Law is always working so hard as a captain, doctor and their ally.

It then goes on to apologize at length while attempting to explain why the sack contains only one bag, half of it full of empty wrappers. Someone - Nico-ya more than likely - also slipped in a photo of the reindeer curled up for a nap, covered in chocolate and with colorful wrappers sprinkled around him.

Jinbe

Jinbe sends him an empty conch shell. Law isn't sure if this is a fish man tradition, a prank, or if Jinbe just didn't know it was his birthday and picked up the first thing on the sea floor. He isn't about to ask.

Ussop

Law can imagine Long Nose-ya spending hours in a state of indecisive anxiety as he contemplated what, precisely, Law would want in a birthday wish. He is easily one of their smartest alley - though having met the kind of people Strawhat-ya attracts this is hardly a robust field of competition - so no doubt the sniper had wanted to impress . Law can imagine him pacing that absurd looking ship of theirs, muttering to himself, "What if Torao hates it and decides to break the alliance all because my choice in card failed to impress or the celebratory message lacked conviction!? We'd wind up at war with the Heart Pirates! And they must know all our weaknesses by now! I'll bet Torao keeps them in notebooks for this exact situation!"

So he just gets him the biggest, flashiest birthday card he can find. Inside it reads:

"To The Fierce Captain Of The Pirates Of Heart, Warrior Of The Northern Sea, and Ally to the Fearless, Undefeatable Captain Usopp who commands a fleet of 10,000 pirates who sing his praises as the bravest adventurer to ever roam the seas!"

It fails to mention any celebration of his birthday, or indeed Law's name at all.

Luffy

Strawhat-ya sends hand drawn picture of himself, Law, and Eustas-ya. all three are smiling and appear to be cheering with their hands in the air, standing in a sort of triangle. Strawhat-ya is on top of the two's shoulder and wearing a crown with his jolly roger scrawled in the center.

The inside is just signed:

ME

Zoro

There is also a piece of paper that isn't folded or in an envelope. It turns out to be a small wanted poster for one Roronoa Zoro . On the back:

生日

Tanjō or the shortest way to say birthday.... Not happy birthday just birthday. It's unsigned.

Law spends a moment studying the wrinkled poster. It is the one "card" he deems worthy to keep

[matchbookarmy]

The Biography of the Man Left by Time by DeathsLights

Rating: T

Summary: He isn’t trying to be difficult or ungrateful. He just doesn’t know how to make a home anymore.

Why I'm Reccing: This fic is so beautiful it made me want to cry. This is not a light hearted fic, by any stretch. It's themes are very heavy (and dark), and this fic is at times painful, but in such an exquisite way. It's one of those achingly gorgeous, breathtaking fics.

This is a Steve who has acclimated to existing in the twenty-first century just fine, but also a Steve who hasn't acclimated to living in the twenty-first century at all.

Steve turns. Tony stares at him blanked faced. “Are you happy here?”

He could lie like he had to the S.H.I.E.L.D. psychologists. It is very easy to lie to people because very few have ever wanted the truth from him. That is the thing about being the hope for people. It makes it harder for them to see the flaws—to see the human. He could lie. “No, I’m not.” It is his truth; the one he has never allowed himself to admit.

With flashbacks from Steve's past interspersed with moments from Steve's present, we are gradually painted a picture that at once both explains and begins to relieve Steve's pain.

Steve finds comfort, happiness, and the beginnings of love in the twenty first century quite gradually, guided by the tender, almost hesitant hand of Tony Stark. If you're looking for a Tony taking care of Steve fic (where Steve really really needs it), this fic does it wonderfully, if subtly.

As an aside, a couple of things I think are extremely well done: This is an excellent, and very real feeling depiction of being in a war (in the flashbacks). This fic also does a really good job showing the duality of Howard Stark, seamlessly portraying him in flashbacks as a man who was a good friend to Steve, a wise and kind almost mentor character, and also as a cold and distant (and perhaps traumatizing) father to Tony.

Look, I could go on and on and on about the beautiful poetry of this fic, but I'll leave it at this: If you are okay with the darker themes, (which, I mean, there are flashbacks to Steve's time in WW2, so it gets a bit dark), then you should absolutely read this fic. It's a top tier fic for me, and it's also massively underrated with only 129 kudos. I honestly hope that you'll show it some love.

[poormeowmeowcollector]

Loki's experience with Earth's acceptance

Relationships: Loki & Tony, Loki & Avengers

Warnings: Homophobia, smoking, awful mental health, mentions [of screen] of child abuse and mentions [of screen] of self harm.

Summary: Loki makes a grave mistake, pays for this vicious crime

Notes: I swear, this was supposed to be fluff. Also, this is the non Reader pride fic. Happy pride y'all!

AO3

Loki had been compromised.

They didn't kill anyone, didn't hurt any avengers and didn't rejoin the dark side. No, Loki's crime was much worse.

Loki had the nerve to appear on a local pride parade.

And he hated every single moment of it.

People first were kind when recognizing them, asking questions and generous to chat. Loki had all the energy to chat back. Then, the shit started.

Some recognized the ace and aro flags Loki had painted on their cheeks and the genderfluid one they were using as a cape on their suit (as well as the rainbow infinity symbol on a pin). They started yelling curses, spitting and pushing. Yelling that he's not oppressed because he passes (he's invisible) and because he was raised with privileges (that managed to scar him deeply and never stops to cause issues) or that he's not even real, that he's just a cishet trying to slither in.

Loki was raised a royalty by Odin, they have mastered the art of ignoring insults.

So, instead of yelling about love and acceptance, Loki spent the pride with other people who were getting attacked. Some, like him, were attacked for not having the right identity, some even for not being white or skinny. Well, good thing this is a pride parade…

Some people were willing to hang out with Loki for a bit, talk (or vent) about the hypocrisy of this behaviour, and then they decided to either stay or leave. But some moved away and yelled at Loki to get lost, reminding them that they would not understand because they're white (more like so heavily whitewashed that they hate both their birth form and the illusion, since one is a monster and one is a reminder of a lie) or not fat enough to understand (they're still trying hard not to binge-eat everything containing protein and work themselves to exhaustion in hope of some muscle). Loki was just apologizing and wishing a good day.

Three hours is the most Loki lasted before heading home, once again disappointed by this planet.

Three hours were enough for paparazzi to take countless pictures of Loki with his flags, and flood the internet with them.

Some people, more than the ones on the parade, were talking about how happy they are to see someone being queer and with the influence Loki has and how just Loki's existence makes them feel better for their own identity. Loki wishes to hug every one of them, and thank them for their words.

Yet, all the events where Loki was invited demanded their resignation, many articles were nothing but gossip and rumours, many people were outraged. The messages of sympathy were soon outnumbered by the slurs and threats, feeling like a punch and hitting so close to home. Loki, on a rush of thoughts, deactivated the accounts and unplugged the TV. When Tony realized, he rushed to Loki's room to demand answers. Instead, he offered comfort when he saw Loki's state, too close to slipping down to a path they fought hard to get away from.

And Tony did manage to stop Loki from going down that road again, mostly with distractions. Until the next day.

"I know this is too much to ask, but I need a favour," he starts. Loki scoffs, tossing some ash away from their cigarette before taking a long sip. So much for quitting, but at least smoking is something they can quit with ease and leaves fewer scars behind.

"I will regret this, but go on," they sigh and tilt their head, letting their fingers fidget with the bedsheets.

"Tomorrow, there's a press release held in the tower. Of course, you can come, but you don't have to if you're not ready yet. I just want you to plug back the TV and watch it, please," and there is the bomb. Loki sighs again.

"It's already plugged in, Bob Ross is quite therapeutic… But, I will think about it, I'm not making any promise," they hum, trying to keep their voice steady and failing. Tony relaxes, even though the answer he took wasn't the one he wished for. Perhaps, he was expecting worse.

"Bob Ross, huh?" he asks instead, his leg bouncing.

"Yes, he's relaxing. And a sweet man," they nod. "I tried Mr Rogers as well, but he didn't hit the same way," they draw another deep inhale, yet more laid back this time.

"I see. At least this Mr Rogers doesn't rant about freedom and liberty," Tony grins like the idiot he is.

Something between a laugh and a cough escapes from Loki, their hand covering their mouth but letting the smoke flow between their fingers. They try to laugh without choking for a few seconds, until the airway is clean enough to allow the usual giggles. And of course, Tony offers this self-satisfied smile.

Because as much as he loves making Loki laugh like an idiot during the worst possible moments, he loves cheering them up when feeling like shit. And, since Loki is indeed an idiot, they had to work a lot to accept Tony's company.

"I hate you, Edward," they groan, their voice still rough. Tony smiles, and keeps up with the jokes for as long as possible.

Loki, in fact, did not think at all about whether they'll watch the press conference or not. But Friday woke them up around the time it starts, so Loki decided to have a little noise while taking their cup of tea.

Until the Avengers entered the screen.

Tony was wearing a bi flag as a cape, on his cheeks and forehead writing "ADHD", "PTSD", and "Abuse Survivor", as well as the same neurodivergence pin Loki has. Loki rubs their eyes, sure they're somehow still asleep. But Tony's not the only one dressed up. Steve, with the graysexual flag and the words PTSD, Immigrant and Veteran follows, smiling and waving at the cameras. Bucky had the Achillean flag, also listing some of his trauma on his face. Bruce had the gay flag, Natasha the aro (both identifying as child abuse survivors as well).

Sam was also wearing a bi flag with his military suit, the one he swore he'll never wear after his co-pilot's death. Clint had the demi flag and was holding his hearing aids, Wanda had her pan flag and her Romani dress, the star of David and the flag of Sokovia painted in her face. Even Thor and Peter joined the masker party, with the nonbinary and trans flag and Thor writing his pronouns on his forehead and the acronyms NPD and ASD on his cheeks, also bearing the pin, Peter mimicking the pronouns but writing just ASD and Orphan. And then, Tony winked at the camera.

Loki can't stop shaking and crying, but also smiling at the view. They don't think before walking past the now broken cup and towards the bathroom, using the mirror to write some of their own "weaknesses" on their face (after managing the tears). They quickly choose the "Child Abuse Survivor" for the forehead and acronyms BPD and ASD for the cheeks, but it's not enough. Afterwards, they carefully change to a short-sleeved shirt, using the hands to write some more (without covering their scars). Then, after making their genderfluid flag also one third asexual and one third aromatic, they drop the Æsir illusion and run to the room where the conference is held.

Loki can hear people asking questions and cameras snapping, but it gets louder when they walk in. They smile and don’t give a fuck about how obvious the last crying session is. No, they just go directly to Tony and hug the shit out of him. They let their hands shake again but hold back the tears just to save the paint.

"You watched it, right?" he asks, now smiling softly as he breaks the hug

"I wanted some background noise,” they huff, this time ready to face whatever hate their existence is igniting.

Because yes, Loki alone cannot face all this. But when the other Avengers, their family, on their side, they can bear a little longer.

~~~~~

taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021 @nicoistrying @twhiddlestonsstuff @lennylovebot @thewindandthewolves

[thatonecitykid]

I bet on Losing

Hey everyone! Sorry this is so sad.. was already crying so might as well make everyone else cry.This takes place after Endgame but during the same time as Far From Home. Listen to "I Bet on Losing Dogs" by Mitski for the full experience. Word Count: 2517. Have fun angels :)

Peter had finally left for his class trip, Pepper and Morgan had gone to spend their summer in Malibu, the remaining avengers were either in space or had completely disappeared from your life. Here you were after five years of your life had evaporated, and after all this time you had to play your fathers role for all the remaining avengers. You hadn't had the opportunity to cry when you first learned about what had happened. You couldn't cry at the funeral, not because you did not want to, but because you felt as if your father wouldn't want to see it. No one wanted to leave you alone, but after months of trying to dig some type of emotion out of you they had assumed that the death and slow disappearance of your makeshift avenger family had unaffected you.

You finally had the opportunity to exist alone. You had also finally mustered up the strength to visit secluded cabin your father had lived in for the last five years of his life. Although you had been given the keys immediately after the funeral, something about visiting the area made you feel uneasy. Not necessarily creeped out but just as if you did not belong, after all it was something your father invested in after you had already blipped away for several months.

You drove up to the cabin alone, slowly unlocking the door as if to not start or whoever may be inside. Before even entering the cabin, it looks clean, you assume that Pepper has had people cleaning constantly to maintain the cabin. It made sense, it was something she's cherished. You stepped into the cabin slowly and began to look around. The walls were lined with framed pictures of Morgan, family pictures of Pepper, your dad, and Morgan, and random posters and vintage albums. Although you were not the one to complain about it, having no evidence of your existence in the main areas of the home caused your heart dropped. As you wandered through the kitchen and the main family room, there is no evidence of Tony's life prior to the blip, just a somewhat normal family of three.

You decide to wander to the basement area, leaving the office and bedroom spaces upstairs for later. There was a large sitting area that you assumed they watched movies in. There was also a playroom painted pink featuring all sorts of gadgets very similar to those you grew up with that Tony had made for you. Towards the back hall of the basement, it was a glass door to your father's workshop area. You open the door gently and made your way in.

Despite looking like somewhat of a mess, you knew that behind the madness there was a method. You could tell that although your dad left in a hurry, things were placed in specific spots very similarly to how he did in every other one of his workshops. You walked towards his swiveling chair, noticing a metal box with a button on the worktable. You press the button and jump back as a life-size hologram of your father appeared in the room. He began

"Hi Pepper. My love, my muse, my boss. If you are listening to this then I did the one thing you have always told me not to do. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the worry I've put you through, and I am sorry for taking myself away from you. I was a gift wasn't I. You've already seen another version of this message, but it never hurts to see your face again my darling."

The tears in your eyes begin to form, not because you had not expected to see your father. At this point you had already seen the message he had left after the funeral; It was only really meant for Pepper and Morgan, never addressing you.. At the funeral you refused to enter the cabin but as you watched the message while standing outside, Happy looked over at you with remorse but you kept a straight face again. Who were you to complain at your dead dad's funeral? Yet this message radiated the same energy.

As the second portion of the message began to play tears began to fall faster. It almost feels like an out of body, sure your dad had taken up different kids during your time growing up, but this message made you feel as If you had been completely replaced. Although it felt like a dumb theory there was no evidence as to your existence prior to Morgan.

"Hello my little scientist. How's my favorite person. Daddy is really sorry I can't be there right now. Be a trooper and hug you mom for me real quick. Now you must be surprised because I'm supposed to be the strongest dad in the world but let me tell you kid, sometimes crazy things happen when put on the ironman helmet. My little minion I love you 3000. My love for you is infinite. You have been and will forever be daddy's best friend."

Here you were crying over a child who had also lost her father, filled with jealousy over the fact that you father had chosen her and failed to consider your return but had prepared for Peter's return, still had projects waiting for Harley, and had in fact set up a stable plan for Morgan's future. At this point you were sobbing, what had all felt like a bad nightmare and jumping to conclusions had started to feel way too real. This emotion was even stronger than when you watched footage from your father suit as the snap happened, this emotion felt like a stab in the back.

Maybe he never loved me.

You tried to collect yourself but were still sobbing when the holographic figure of you father disappeared. You might as well finish the house tour before leaving. The upstairs portion of the house featured Tony and Pepper's room, Morgan's room and two other doors. The main bedroom was tidy and organized, with a closet full of clothes that both Pepper and your dad had left. You walked into Morgan's room and did a quick look around, not wanting to invade child space. Returning to the hallway you opened the door to your father's office. Inside there was a rather simple with a desk, a leather chair, and two matching chairs. The plants in the room were growing well, meaning someone still came to water them. There were a few pictures on the wall, including Peter's Stark internship picture, and a random picture you took of the original Avengers after their first New York battle. On the desk there was another metal box similar to that in the workpace. You argued whether or not you wanted to potentially break your heart more before giving in, siting in the leather seat and pressing the button.

A slim beam of light scanned over your face, confirming your identity, and the box began to play. To say you were shocked is an understatement, as your father's hologram appeared across the desk sitting in one of the matching chairs.

"Hello Munchkin. If you've found this box, then I just going to have to accept that I've failed you. You've been gone for five years and regret every moment leading up to when you snapped away. You really did want to come to space with me, and honestly you would have been helpful, but I don't think I could see you Blip away and have the will to continue. That being said because I am already admitting I was wrong, I should not have had your suit take you to the bunker room, where you eventually snapped away alone. I regret that decision y constantly. On another note, I'm sorry I didn't hug you as soon as you got back, I clearly I cannot really hug anyone."

You had finally given up on holding in their tears. You didn't have to be strong in front of your dad. He had always held you when you cried and this time he couldn't. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, but nothing felt the same.

"I hope you are crying, because if I'm crying alone during this part, I'll be embarrassed, his image continued as it stood up and leaned against the back of the chair. Munch I know you've probably walked around this house and have found no evidence of yourself. You've probably beat yourself up about how much I love Morgan, but think about it. The amount of time I've spent these last 5 years essentially idolizing you would not have been good for her to experience. "

You rose quickly from the chair. Not even one damn picture?

"Now I know you're wondering not even a single picture. Pick up the projector box and follow me ."

You did as the digital version of your father told you and followed it back into the hallway.

"Put the box down and put your hand on the center of the door. "

This activated a scanner which opened up the door to the room. As you walked in you recognized that this was an exact replica of your room back in the Malibu house. You were still a kid when the original house was blown to pieces but somehow everything was exactly as you remembered it. As you walked further into the room you noticed the large screens, placed like picture frames, which played videos and pictures of you and your dad throughout the years.

Your father walked towards the center of the room, bounded by how far the projector was.

"You see kid, me and you have somewhat the same grieving styles. I have a feeling you didn't cry at the funeral. I have a feeling you haven't cried, at least in a way that someone else could have noticed. You take after me in that sense."

The hologram started to sniffle, your dad had actually started crying when recording this. You really wanted to hug him, the reality of his death hurt even more. You had finally allowed yourself to start grieving.

"Look, I know you used to listen to the song about betting on losing dogs when you wanted to cry, but that does not apply to you at all. You may have gotten a more complicated stick of life, but I can tell ya, this does not need to be your villain origin story. From the first day I took you home I could tell you were a fighter, but I need you to feel as if its ok to cry. I've spent hours on this floor in shambles wishing you were here. The small things that Morgan does that remind me of you throw me into sadness pools constantly. You are my motivating force. I really hope you allow yourself to cry about it so that you can continue in life. I don't think I can stand in this room for any longer before I cannot speak at all, so please take the projector back to my office. "

As you lifted the projector you thought about how much this must have hurt your father to record. Maybe he didn't want anyone to encounter this box except for you. As you placed the box on the desk, you sat back into the leather chair as your father's holograph sat across from you.

"On a different note, you are probably wondering why I seemed to set up a game plan for everyone but you. With Morgan I just made sure she had a comfortable, who am I kidding, lavish funding behind her. I can't dictate what a five-year-old should do. For Harley you know that I've always looked out for him, a position in Stark industries honestly should not have surprised you. Peter is what I feel most conflicted about. I'm not setting him up to become the next Ironman, I'm setting him up to become the greatest version of Spiderman he can be. Well, I know the media is probably going to take it and run having known that Spiderman and Ironman we're friends at some point, but I'm really giving you the biggest responsibility. I don't expect you to live in my shadow, I want you to outgrow it. I think you might be surprised to see everything that I left you, besides Stark industries itself. That's a conversation for another day."

"I know I've been speaking for quite a while, but my baby, my baby yes I called you that. I know how much this has all affected you, and I'm sorry, I am completely sorry and do take full fault for it all. But now because we cannot change the past, let's focus on the present. I want you to know that I loved you with my entire being. I'm not sure how to emphasize this enough but I do want you to know you were cared for, you were loved, and you were thought about for every minute. If you don't get to see this message, and I'm already gone, that means this message will never have to play for anyone. Either I found you and I've given you a new message, or I'm rolling in my grave. Either way my darling I cannot emphasize how much I love you. I do hope for the best for. Before I have to go, I want to see you smile. Sure, I can't physically see it right now, but I can imagine it."

As the recording choked out that last sentence, you flashed a weak smile. A face sticky with all the tears that you have been crying.

Now I know you need to get back home, but when you get back to the city, stop by the shawarma place and get something to eat. you gotta eat Darling. Also don't act like you don't like Peter, you two idiots keep pushing each other away in cannot take it. Now I'm gonna say goodbye mini me. Watch over Pepper and Morgan for me, okay? I love you."

You took one final sweep of the house before heading back to your car. You had cried so much that your eyes physical hurt. You almost felt a sense of comfort having finally released some of the pent-up emotion. As you drove towards the city and towards the Shawarma place you almost felt kind of sad, knowing that all of your friends were in a foreign country. Yet you still felt as if your best friend, your Dad was watching over you. And in all reality that felt as if it was the only thing that mattered.