#tony starks funeral

[cruelangel94]

Artist By Ago

[scavengerssuccotash]

Me after two of my favorite characters just died but the day is saved:

[destinyc1020]

Tony Stark's Funeral 😩😭

Going back to this scene.... I loved how this whole entire scene was shot in one continuous motion/camera-moving shot frame from person to person. Very ingeniously done! 👍🏾

I also liked how touching it was that they put the ones Tony was closest to relationship-wise towards the front. 😔 Look at how close Peter was! 🥺😢

Quite possibly one of the saddest funeral scenes in film history.... 🤧

[giantkillerjack]

One thing you gotta know about me is that I will quietly unfollow the fuck out of anyone on tumblr who reblogs or posts anything even remotely positive about Tony Stark, like I will politely show myself out SO FUCKING HARD they won't even know what hit 'em. - probably because they are unlikely to notice it at all

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Lowkey. Just. Do Not enjoy watching Civil War.

[altruistic-meme]

btw letting your actors know what's going on in what they're doing is how you get masterpieces like Young Royals and Good Omens, where every expression, every movement, every inflection tells the story just as much - if not more than - the scripted words.

[omjitskailay]

So I've seen posts about Harley in Endgame where he hung out with Ironman for a cool weekend and then 10 years later he goes to his funeral and every single super hero in the universe is there.

(except natasha RIP)

Which is cool but have we considered this kid actor? Who was in one of the first movies in the MCU so it was popular but it wasn't a global phenomenon yet. Who had a fun year where he got to shoot an ironman movie and hang out with RDJ? And then 10 years later he gets asked to come back for a single seen and every single actor and actress ever in a Marvel film is there and there all sad.

[huldrabitch]

This is how Iron Man Vol. 3. or international iron man or whatever its called should have ended tbh

[spooky-lil-spider-enjoyer]

Don't think about Peter seeing a strange sad kid around his age at his mentor's funeral. Don't think about Peter summoning his inner spiderman even in one of the lowest points of his life and walking over to the boy. Because that's what heros do, they help people. 

Don't think about Peter trying to make idle conversation by asking how he knew Tony, expecting something similar to his situation. Well, not the secret superhero and avengers thing, but that he was one of Starks interns or assistants or something like that.

Maybe do think about Harley wiping a sniffly nose and telling the kind boy his story, the story of The Mechanic who taught him to stand up for himself, the Super Hero who saved him from the weird exploding bomb guys, and Tony. The man who had panic attacks and PTSD over New York. The man who gave a 11 year old a lesser version of a flash grenade to let him stay the night in his barn. The man who turned said barn into his personal wonderland once he left. And the man who kept in touch with him over the years through letters and phone calls and maybe an occasional facetime.

Think about Peter letting out a wet chuckle and wiping his teared up eyes at the story. “That sounds like Mr. Stark.” He would say as the boys exchanged stories of the acclaimed “Iron Man.”

Think about Stark's two smartest not-technically-technically-kids bonding over the memory's of Tony, the real Tony. The Tony who set up a STEM lab for Harley, the Tony who grounded Peter because he got a little too close to dangers edge, who saw a little too much of himself in those boys.

The Tony who helped spark both their dreams and fed the fire until he died. And even in death, he's their Hero. He always will be. Maybe do think about that. Think about the Starks, biological or not.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Last Christmas | Bucky Barnes x Reader, previous Steve Rogers x Reader

After kissing Steve during Christmas 2022 the events of the second snap create distance. Feeling burnt and unloved you try to make things work, but it's too late. You gave him your heart, and he's given his away to another, leaving you in 2023 alone. But there's someone else who hasn't given up on you and, maybe, it's worth giving your heart away to someone special.

Warnings: Steve is the bad guy, anti-Steggy, heartbreak, angst, reader drinks her feelings a bit, fluff, kissing. Liberties have been taken with the order of versus, it's creative lisence, okay? F for fluffy. C for Christmas.

A/N: I listened to Last Christmas twice a day for the last 18 days and now here we are. I think I got the dates right, who knows. I was going to post this on Friday, or even next Monday nearer to Christmas but I got excited so...Bon appetit.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

Last Christmas I gave you my heart,

But the very next day you gave it away.

This year, to save me from tears,

I'll give it to someone special.

Christmas 2022

Steve's lips met yours with the taste of mulled wine and expensive champagne. The neat lines of his suit jacket folded under your hands, tugging him closer.

Above you both a huge wreath of mistletoe lined the doorway, twinkling fairy lights falling artfully into the entrance and your smile was so wide you could barely contain it. Finally, finally you were together.

You'd told him how you felt, how you've loved him for years and you were so proud of him and then - he'd kissed you, and your heart soared.

"Steve," you breathed, a prayer, a promise, everything you'd asked for all for you. You had been so patient all year, so good and slow and quiet, and now you had everything you needed.

"I have to go, sweetheart, but I'll call you and we can go out properly. I promise."

He'd kissed you on the cheek one last time before disappearing into the night, leaving you alone under the mistletoe, full of promise.

Although the date never materialised you tried to be understanding. So much had happened, aliens and invasions. Five years prior it had felt like the world ending and now somehow here you were again, watching the man you loved on a battlefield, hundreds of miles away.

That had been a week ago. The footage still playing on every news outlet.

But he hadn't called.

He never called.

He never text or emailed or DM'd or IM'd or bothered at all. And now the kiss, everything it had meant to you, tasted sour.

You'd given him your entire heart and you thought when he kissed you back, that meant he was giving you his.

Tony Stark was dead.

Crowded room, friends with tired eyes.

Hiding from you and your soul of ice

My Gosh, I thought you were someone to rely on

Me? I guess I was a shoulder to cry on.

It had been kept out of the press for as long as possible.

But he was dead.

His funeral had been a private affair, not for the lowly likes of regular old Stark Towers staff and so you hadn't been invited. You had, in your love sick state, driven out to find Steve and try to offer him some comfort.

He'd text you to say he was struggling, and you'd been as supportive as you could be, texting him back in the middle of the night, answering when he called. You'd asked if he wanted you to come to the funeral, but you said no, you offered to be around, but he hadn't left more than a few sparse details leaving you hanging around the small town near Stark's home until you spotted the mourners.

But there was nothing to offer. You tried to kiss his cheek in greeting but he pulled away and shame washed over you.

The Falcon, Sam, and Steve's friend Bucky who you recognised from the news as well, had told you he'd been strange lately and not to worry when they found you hovering on the outskirts of the wake.

It was only when Sam went to speak to Pepper that Bucky spoke again.

Despite what the press said he looked friendly enough, as confused and lost as the rest. You knew he'd been blipped and that must have been bad enough without aliens, wars and deaths. But he still offered you a warm smile. It was the same smile you'd seen in the picture of him on Steve's desk, a portrait of him in his uniform. It was a little more worn now, a few more lines around his eyes, and his hair was long and unkempt, not like the neat coif in his photograph.

But you recognised him all the same.

"Walk with me around the lake a bit?" He suggested, offering his arm.

You refused, tracking yours eyes back to where Steve was staring out at the water where Pepper Potts and a little girl were sitting on a dock.

"I need to tell you something, it's going to sound crazy and you can't tell anyone. But you came all this way and -" Bucky stopped, looking at Sam, Pepper, the gathering of secret superheros.

"I think I can believe in crazy." You said, a lump already forming in your throat.

"He's going to leave."

"Steve?"

"He's going to go back."

"Back?"

"To Peggy."

Peggy. The ghost that haunted you, the woman you'd never be, could never be, never wanted to be. Everything was always - Peggy.

Peggy looked great in red. Peggy always wore lipstick. Peggy loved to dance.

You were never going to get your dance, it always belonged to her.

"I see." You ducked your head to hide your tears, spilling hot and fast down your face.

"I'm really sorry, I thought it'd be best -"

"No, no it is, thank you, I appreciate it."

You went to wipe your eye on your sleeve, but Bucky pulled a packet of tissues from his pocket and handed you one.

"Thanks," you managed a small, polite, smile and dried the tracks of mascara from your cheeks.

"Take my number, in case you need anything, I hate to think - well - I don't think it's right, if that means anything, I don't agree and he knows that."

Bucky handed you a slip of paper folded in half, peeking inside he'd obviously pre-written a small note to the same effect, signing in a wide messy scrawl. But the numbers printed below were neat.

"I've got a place in Brooklyn, Steve said you live on Staten Island? I'm staying near Fort Hamilton, so if you need anything. Just call. Or text. Or whatever it is people like to do now." He gave you a shy smile, pink dusting the tops of his cheeks and his ears.

"That's very generous. Thank you."

You tucked the paper into the inside pocket of your purse and looked at Steve one last time.

"I think I'm going to go. Thanks, Bucky, maybe see you around?"

You'd text Bucky once, drunk, and he replied asking if you needed help.

Once bitten and twice shy.

I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye.

In your pain you hadn't replied and had woken to a series of worried messages. You deleted the texts the next day and tried to forget about him.

Bucky text you too, to let you know he was going out of town but you could still reach him if you liked.

Then radio silence.

You saw him once, drinking beer with a beautiful woman in a sushi bar and for a moment you felt a flush of jealousy. But you kept walking so he didn't see you.

Life was hard enough without making it complicated and the last thing you needed was to get yourself hung up on another stupid 1940s, jumped up, selfish, super soldier asshole. You didn't know him, but he was Steve's best friend. How different could they be.

You left Stark Industries.

You deleted your contacts.

But you left the little note folded in your bedside draw and called yourself a fool every time you saw it, tucked between your passport and an old notebook.

Well, it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me.

Tell me baby, do you recognise me?

Christmas 2023

Bucky didn't text again until the winter, snow attempting to fall but hitting salty air and heating grates. The sidewalk covered in slush.

Your phone buzzed, unnoticed, in your pocket until you made it home.

1:32pm - Hi, don't know if you'd be interested but Sam's holding a holiday party at his place in Louisiana. There'll be some old faces. You're welcome to come.

2:01pm - Sorry, it's Bucky Barnes. Don't know if you kept my number.

2:03pm - At Sam Wilson's house. The Falcon. You met at Stark's funeral?

4:48 - I'm getting a lift from Washington with this guy Torres. You can join us if you want.

4:49 - On us, of course. I heard you left Stark Tower

5:00 - I didn't mean to imply you didn't work

5:01 - I'm sorry, Sam says I'm really bad at this. Forget I bothered you. Merry Christmas

You spent a week dithering about a reply until one of your new colleagues at S.W.O.R.D told you you were being stupid.

Tickets to Louisiana weren't too expensice and you had Sam's address from some of Steve's old things anyway. Would it be crazy to just turn up?

Sam's house was lit up by strings of warm white lights. Out along the sea coast of Louisiana the air was crisp. The day had been fine enough but now the sun had set it was getting cold and goosebumps erupted along your arms.

Face on another with a fire in his heart.

A man under cover but you tore me apart.

Maybe you should have RSVP'd properly, but you hadn't really, truly, convinced yourself you were going to turn up. Your hotel in town was very comfortable and you could go back any time. If it was weird and no one recognised you it would be easy enough to -

"You made it!" Bucky called, spotting you across the garden, hiding by the Magnolia.

The whole garden has a magical wildness to it, the tent in the centre emanating light, music, the smell of food and the sound of happy laughter. It was a welcome change from the cold bite of winter back home.

"Hi, I wasn't sure if I was going to come -"

"I thought I'd come over in case you didn't recognise me -"

You spoke over each other, tripping on the words awkwardly, dancing around the half hug, half handshake you'd initiated.

He did look different, happier, honestly. His long hair was shorter again, though not as neat as in Steve's photograph. There was a softness to the way it curled behind his ears, slightly longer on top.

"I like your new haircut," you motioned upwards, almost spilling the contents of your bag with the too quick gesture.

Bucky ran his hand through it, the metal glinting in the light, and mussed it up further.

"Thanks, just, you know, finding myself again. How've you been, sorry I wasn't in touch more."

"Oh, you know, finding myself again." You didn't mean for it to sound so sad.

Bucky was serious for a moment, "he was being an asshole, trust me," then his face brightened and he gestured to the sound of glasses clinking, "can I get you a drink, let me introduce you to some people."

For the first time in a long time, you felt a real smile tugging at your lips and, when he offered you his arm, you took it.

Christmas 2024

Ooh, ooh, now I've found a real love,

You'll never fool me again.

When Bucky text, you answered.

When you got sad and drunk, he turned up.

You found yourself seeing him more and more.

He took you for sushi in the spring, ducking and hiding under the canopies of shops to avoid the rain bouncing back up off the tarmac.

In the summer you went to Coney Island where you refused to ride anything because it looked too scary and, instead, ate so much cotton candy you were almost sick on the bus ride home.

In the autumn you rode out on his bike to upstate New York to see the colours change on the trees. You ate pie in a diner by the side of the road and he made sure your helmet was fastened correctly. As you rode home, you imagined you could go back to his place instead of spending the rest of the evening alone.

Your heart had begun to race whenever you saw his name light up your phone. Your camera roll filling up with pictures of you together. And when he invited you out ice skating under the Brooklyn bridge, you said yes.

Christmas 2025

This year, to save me from tears,

I'll give it to someone special.

"I'm so glad you agreed to come with me." Bucky beamed up at you from the floor where he was tying the laces on your skates .

"I like spending time with you, Bucky." You said, quietly. "I'm a terrible skater though." You admitted, letting him pull you to your feet.

"Oh good, I was hoping you'd say that." He grinned, turning as he stepped onto the ice to face you, "you'll have to hold onto me."

You laughed, letting him tow you gently along, circling the ice. It was already dark, the lights circling the rink reflected in the ice and Bucky's eyes, sparkling with happiness. Your breath misted in front of you when you huffed in frustration at slipping, but Bucky only held you tighter.

He bumped into the end barrier, distracted by the way you looked when your head ducked to see your feet, murmuring his instructions to yourself on how to keep going.

You followed, crashing into him, hands pressed into his chest.

"Sorry," Bucky's cheeks were pink again, from the cold or your closeness you couldn't tell. But his hands came to rest on your hips, keeping you close despite the fact you felt like you were going to slip. For a moment all you could see were the lights and Bucky, he smelt sweet with a hint of whisky from the spiked hot chocolates you'd had before it was your turn on the ice, and you couldn't think of anything nicer.

Without another thought you lifted your chin and kissed him, slowly at first, but then he tightened his grip and pulled you closer, taking your weight so you didn't fall.

I'll give it to someone special

[moonlit-imagines]

Remember Me

Tony Stark x child!reader

warnings:

a/n: yo im literally writing these in order of my spotify shuffle im sitting in my car waiting for mt laundry to be done

prompt: anonymous: “hello! First I wanna start with a big congrats on 8k followers, that is quite the achievement!!! I have a request for a Tony stark x child!reader (Tony’s child) with the song Remember Me from the movie Coco. Maybe something like the reader seeing the message Tony left for them after the events of Endgame? Idk if this is any good or not, but I had an idea so I figured I’d put in a request! Thank you for reading and have a nice day :D”//Remember Me - Coco Soundtrack

You sat at the edge of your bed at about four in the morning, the video your dad left you playing on loop for the fortieth time in the dark room—volume low as not to wake the rest of the house.

“You can bet they’ll remember me, kid.” Tony’s hologram told you once more. “Question is—will you?” You wished you could reach out and touch him, but each time you tried your hand slipped through the image and your heart sank a little deeper.

A few tears were shed when you were alone. When all eyes were on you at the funeral you just couldn’t bare to let anyone see you cry. Especially not your sister, you wanted to be strong for her.

The genius asshole that he was, he knew exactly what would make you cry. He loaded that hologram message with about a dozen videos of him and you when you were younger. Trips, experiments, explosions, birthdays, fifth grade graduation, you name it.

“You crying yet, y/n?” The message cut back to him. “I am. You were a cute kid. You know it’s okay to cry, right? You always put on such a brave face. Maybe it was because you grew up around the Avengers, I wouldn’t want them to see me cry either. But you can, they don’t mind.” Tony’s eyes were looking at your wall—you turned the thing away from you a bit because it was weird—but from this angle you could see those little streaks of tears on his cheeks. “Don’t grow up to be like me. Be better. I know you can be. Love you, goof.”

The message began to play again and you shut it off. Then you sat in silence a little longer and went to sleep. After about twenty minutes of that, Morgan crawled into your bed and told you she loved you “three thousand.” She reminded you of Dad.

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @mymelodymia // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[wandaslittlelove]

Destined - Part 0

Warnings: Cheating, mentions of death

The rain poured as I stared out the window. It had been almost two weeks since I had seen Wanda and about a month since my sister had sacrificed herself for a stone.

When I came back from the blip it felt like seconds had passed but really it had been five years. In those five years my sister was alone. Grieving my loss. Then when I came back and found out she was gone I was grieving hers. It seemed as if neither of us could ever get a happy ending. 

Being devastated by the loss my immediate thought was Wanda. Was she okay? Where is she? But I knew it all had to wait for after the battle against Thanos. I saw Wanda many times on the battlefield and tried to go to her but each time she would move away from me.

After the battle I sat in front of Tony Stark. The many who had been like another sibling to me for years. He was gone. I held Peter's crying figures in my arms that day as he cried for his mentor. Yet another family member had been taken from both of us.

Tony’s funeral is the last time I’ve seen Wanda. The last time I held her in my arms and the last time I was held in hers. I was told she stole Vision's body and had taken over a town called Westview to create her Perfect family. 

I was devastated at hearing this. First my sister dies, then Tony, and now Wanda has run off with the corpse of a man she had always reassured me she never liked. 

So I moved. I stayed in the compound as I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Natasha's room had become a safe haven along with the gray tabby.. A little gray tabby that enjoyed cuddles. Cinder was her name and she was the one thing that was currently keeping me grounded.

That was until Wanda came bursting through my front door with rain dripping down her body. A Pained expression on her face as she held her side. We both said nothing as I moved to quickly inspect her injury and when I saw it was just a couple of bruised ribs I let out a sigh of relief.

She was the one that talked first. She told me of Westview and how a woman named Agatha Harkness came for her magic and that's how she got the bruises. She told me of her boys, Tommy and Billy, and how they were the perfect kids. I listened silently as my ex Fiance told me all about the fantasy life she had created with a Robot. And I said nothing as she told me that she missed me. Nothing as she told me why she did it. And once again Nothing as she told me of the countless nights she spent with the man I had always been insecure about.

“So I just came to say that it would work out better if you stopped loving me. I’ve done so many things to hurt you. I cheated on you for two years. So please forget me.”

“So I'm not allowed to love you anymore?” I asked with my head turned away from wanda. Ever since Westview was created and she chose vision instead of me we had been arguing non stop.

“That's not what I'm saying!” I look at Wanda with a stone face not wanting to show her how much she's hurting me.

“Really? Because I believe the words ‘it would work out better if you stopped loving me’ mean that.” Wanda looks at me annoyed before she speaks

“I'm just saying it would be easier”

“For who? Me or you” the silence from wanda is all the information I need. With a scoff I pick up my bag before walking to the front door. 

“Knowing that you chose a robot over your fiance really says a lot about you Wanda. You created a whole life with someone you had claimed to barely know while I was grieving the death of my sister. And when it all came crashing down you run back to me. I don't want that. I don't want you. I stopped loving you as soon as you ran into his arms” as i exited the place that had once been my home the tears had finally started to fall. Although they weren't out of sadness.

I was free. Finally free…or that's what I thought 4 months ago. 

Until suddenly Wanda was trying to kill a child for her magic. Until Dr. Strange came to my door asking for help. And Until I found out our destinies would forever be linked.

Taglist: @alexawynters @username23345 @casquinhaa

[decaffeinatedbreadsublime]

Rajesh Koothrappali x Female!Reader: The Comic Con Redemption

Author's Note: I love Raj very much and want to rewrite moments from the series including a girlfriend for him to pretend he didn't end up alone.

P.S.: English is not my first language, and this is my first imagine. Sorry for any mistakes.

Warning: none

Summary: You've just been promoted to Girlfriend of the Millennium.

(gif just to illustrate their happiness, lol)

Raj sighed, disheartened. "The tickets sold out… I didn’t get any."

It was another tense day at the opening of Comic Con ticket sales. The friends had gathered at Sheldon’s apartment, all agitated, each with their laptop in hand. They frantically pressed F5 until they managed to get into the virtual queue—if they managed to.

"I didn’t get one either," Howard replied. From the frustrated faces of Leonard and Sheldon, it was evident they hadn’t succeeded either.

"This was supposed to be the best Comic Con in the last 20 years," Leonard lamented. "I can’t believe we’re going to miss it."

"Now I know how Mexican immigrants feel when they’re barred from entering the United States and living the American dream they desire so much," Sheldon commented, his voice monotone in a sad tone.

"…No, Sheldon, you don’t know," Leonard said. Despite the frustration, he didn’t agree with Sheldon’s exaggerated drama.

When you arrived at the apartment from your shift at Caltech’s Computational Mathematics lab, where you worked as a researcher, the atmosphere was similar to a funeral. The last time you saw them this sad was when Tony Stark had died.

"Oh, no," you said, going to your boyfriend Raj’s side and sitting on the arm of the chair he occupied. "Don’t tell me another superhero died… when Tony Stark died, you were in mourning for three days, it was horrible."

"It’s worse," Sheldon said. "We didn’t get tickets to Comic Con."

"I already had my cosplay ready," Leonard sighed.

"Speaking of which," you stood up, took the bag that was still on your shoulder, and pulled out four identical pieces of paper. "Julie’s husband, who was my roommate at Harvard, works in event organization and is organizing this year’s Comic Con. I got four tickets for you guys."

You placed the tickets on the table, and everyone stood still for a few seconds, completely immobile. Sheldon picked up one of the tickets from the coffee table, analyzed it cautiously, and held it up to the light to verify its authenticity. When he finished, he put the ticket back on the table and sat up straight, in complete silence.

"Well?" Howard asked.

"They’re real," Sheldon replied.

"Y/N, YOU GENIUS, WONDERFUL WOMAN!" Raj instantly shouted. He quickly got up from the chair, went to you, gave you a hug that lifted you off the ground, and spun you around. Then he kissed you intensely.

"Why didn’t you tell us you had the tickets?" Leonard asked.

"Julie’s husband could only confirm if he could get them 30 minutes before the official batch opened," you explained. "I didn’t want to say anything before to avoid creating expectations. And when I got them, I called Raj five times, but he didn’t answer. So I called you guys, and no one answered. But I decided to get the tickets anyway, and if you managed to buy some, I could sell them, so it would be a win-win situation."

"We were doing finger stretches to avoid cramps while buying the tickets," Sheldon explained. "That’s why we missed the call."

You laughed. "Well, I guess you owe me one."

Raj hugged you again, kissing your temple. "Consider me your servant for the next weeks."

[laiahernandeeezzz]

I'm here, moya lyubov'

******

Paring: Yelena Belova x fem!reader

Words: 1.6K

******

After the compound was destroyed thanks to Thanos, Pepper offered Y/n and Natasha to live with her. At first both of them were reluctant given the loss of Tony Stark in the battlefield, but after Pepper told them it would also help her to feel less alone and to cope with it while taking care of little Morgan, they accepted.

So after Tony's funeral, they installed themselves at the house. It was easy, their things were completely destroyed by the fight. The three of them quickly fell into a routine. While Natasha put her focus on finding out where help was extremely necessary, and contacting the heads of the countries, to see how they were going to proceed after everyone came back, Pepper placed her mind on accepting her husband’s death, and tried to organize anything under the Stark’s name: selling, giving places to people who needed it…

Y/n happily took house chores, helping with cleaning clothes, plates, making lunch and dinner, and also looking after Morgan. Of course Pepper was there for her daughter, but in all honesty, Morgan loved playing and spending time with Y/n, so she was happy to do so.

However, even though she was adapting to her new life pretty quickly, her nights were spent without any sleep. She spent them trying to find anything that could be related to her girlfriend’s location. Yelena Belova was introduced to the team by her sister after they reunited. There was where Y/n and her met, instantly feeling something between them.

******

Their relationship wasn’t easy at first. Yelena was a bit -very- jealous of Y/n relation with Natasha. After all, they had spent more time together than the sisters, so she acted cold and quite rude with her. And, although Y/n quickly accepted that Yelena was attractive, she refused to be nice to her if the widow wasn’t with her.

The whole compound was aware of their constant bickering, but even they could tell there was something much bigger, but still, they decided to stay on the sides and not pay much attention to them. Natasha, on the other hand, was desperate with the girls’ stubbornness, and really wanted to tell them to stop that nonsense, that was impending them to really know what they wanted. 

So, that’s why, after a few months, she locked them in one of the thousand rooms the compound had, and told them that they would stay there until they solved their differences. Natasha knew her little plan had two outcomes: either they ended up killing each other or kissing. You can guess which one was the result. The red-headed decided that after an hour, they would’ve done one of those things. When she opened the door, she was pleased to see them hugged, looking lovingly at each other -making Nat sick-, and kissing softly. 

Slowly, the other Avengers found out of their thing, after some months starting to officially date, not passing the opportunity to tease them all the time. Especially the spy, who constantly told them that they ended up together thanks to her, them being too stubborn -and stupid- to realized their feelings. The couple never admitted it to the older woman, but they were amazingly grateful. 

That’s how Yelena spent almost a year with them on the compound, all while Melina recreated the serum, with the help of Tony’s and Bruce’s labs. Once they got it done, she took off to free some widows, with the help of her Red Room friends, if someone could call them that. The goodbye was hard, the girls not knowing exactly when they were going to see each other again, but they promised to see each other again. What they weren’t expecting -or even imagine it- is that an alien had plans to erase half of the universe.

******

At first, when people started to disappear, Y/n was convinced that Yelena hadn’t been one of them, that in a few weeks she would have her girlfriend back in her arms. Weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. It had been a year, when Y/n reluctantly realized that the blonde spy wasn’t coming back. For some days she thought Yelena may have just bailed on her, that had decided to live her life alone, but deep inside knew that something was really wrong. 

That was why she had spent the last few years searching for her. During the blip they were looking for everyone that had disappeared, but after the world was once again restored, she didn’t stop, with Pepper and Natasha’s help. Her nights were based on searching for some weird action or movement out of the ordinary, some attack of some sort. 

She just had her girlfriend’s name, as well as her friend’s Sonya and Melina’s, and she was fully conscious that they changed passports constantly in missions like that. Fucking trained spies. However, she never gave up. She kept and would keep looking as long as she had to. With the days, hope diminished, but it had become such a routine, that she couldn’t sleep or function if she didn’t do it. 

******

Not sleeping was affecting her functionality as a person, but she kept her good face for little Stark, especially when she was left alone with her. Pepper and Natasha had left the house to run some errands pretty early in the morning. Morgan was playing in the living room, while Y/n cooked some lunch for them, not knowing exactly when the older women were supposed to be back. 

Y/n finished arranging their plates, as she called Morgan, “Baby girl, time to eat!”. After some seconds, she called her again, and went to look for her in the living room, but the place was empty. Calling her name out loud, she started to panic, that kid is going to kill me. When she got to the entrance, she saw that the door was slightly open, and she quickly ran outside, “Morgan! You know, we don’t go outside alone!”.

Realizing a shaky breath, she saw the little girl hugging her mom, as the redhead took some bags out of the car’s boot. “Oh, thank god. Morgan, don’t ever do that again! By the way, where were you? You left like hundred hours ago”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic! We just went to pick up a package” Natasha teased her, as the backdoor of the car slammed shut. Y/n was quite confused at this point, brows furrowed and eyes fixed on the back of the car, still not being able to see who that mysterious person was. She quickly found out, though.

Some blonde strands of hair peeked as the person reached the front part of the car, rounding it to come to the front of the house. And Y/n stopped breathing. As soon as they locked eyes, Y/n knees gave up, and she fell to the floor, tears streaming down their eyes. 

Yelena was alive and in front of her. She couldn’t see much through the tears, and suddenly her breath started to run short. Her chest felt tight, her chest moving quickly trying to catch as much oxygen as possible, but still, it didn’t seem enough. She was starting to panic, when she felt soft fingers caressing her cheek. And then a soft voice. 

“Hey, hey, breathe with me, here” Y/n’s hand was moved to Yelena’s chest, “I’m here, detka, I’m here with you”. Her vision started to become clear, as her breath started to slowly become back to normal, Y/n focused on taking deep breaths. “How… How are you here? I’ve been searching for you for months”

“You don’t really think you were the only one searching?” At that point, Y/n was fully calmed, eyes running through Yelena’s face. She looked exactly the same since the last time they saw each other. The spy was cleaning the drying tears, her thumbs softly caressing Y/n cheeks. 

“But, how? You left no traces for me… How did you find me?” Of course Y/n was happy her girlfriend was back, but at the same time, she was extremely confused, because she had spent weeks non-stop looking for her, without any success, and it wasn’t like she, herself, had also left any trace to follow. 

“Natasha… You know, she’s been helping some governments, and there are always pictures of them. It was easier to find her, so I traced her, and she led me to you. You also were nowhere to be found” Y/n looked away from those green eyes, for the first time, seeing how both older women looked at them, smiling and with wet eyes. Y/n thought that it had been a long time since she had seen Natasha so emotional. 

“I haven’t got out of the house a lot, to be honest. I had barely enough strength for it, and if I had some it was destined to your search or to little Stark there… I can’t believe you are finally here”

“I am here, and I have no intentions to leave for a while… Although maybe we could go somewhere just the two of us, beach, cocktails, bikinis…” Yelena almost started to cry when she heard Y/n’s laugh again. She had never thought of finding someone, all thought of love eliminated in the Red Room, yet she was here, in front of a woman she couldn’t love more.

“I love you so much Lena”

“And I love you too, moya lyubov'” Y/n didn’t hold herself any more and connected their lips, both of them sighing at the feeling. They had been apart for too long, and both girls promised themselves to never let that happen again. 

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Where do we go from here - Part 1

Summary: Two funerals. Two couples. A tragedy like no other. And one big secret.

A/N: Written for @fandom-free-bingo Here’s something different, I hope you enjoy it. Leave a comment, heart and reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, F! Reader x Rhodey, Tony Stark x Reader (eventually)

Warning: 18+ angst, minors DNI, death, infidelity, smoking, mentions of self-harm and suicide. Hurt comfort.

Word count: 2764

Square filled: We deserve much better than we’ve had

Free Fandom Bingo Masterlist

.

Empty.

That’s how you felt. Empty and utterly exhausted. Your eyes were dried and throat scratchy from all the crying, body aching with pain and mind a foggy haze. Forty eight hours it had been since you received the news of the car crash.

James Rhodes. Your husband. Dead.

Pepper Potts. Your best friend. Dead.

You received a call from the hospital while you were wrapping James’ birthday present. A birthday that never arrived. Instead a funeral did. Two consecutive ones. You hadn’t felt grief like this ever.

The service ended, you shook hands and hugged countless people, nodding along as they offered condolences, wanting nothing more than to head home, crash in your bed and never wake up. But you couldn’t. There was another funeral you had to attend, your best friend Pepper’s, you didn’t know if you could go through it all again.

But you had to.

A couple of moments later, you managed to slip away and found yourself sitting on a bench overlooking the graves. The day was actually sunny and bright, wildflowers littered along the gravestones as a gentle breeze blew. What a day for a funeral, you thought sadly.

Not long after you sat, you smelled cigarette smoke in the air before Tony Stark took a seat next to you. Tony was one of your closest family friends, well, he was your husband’s best friend. They practically grew up together, went to school, university and eventually ended up buying houses close to each other too. By way of default, when Pepper and him got married, it brought the four of you closer. She was your best friend and James was his.

It was perfect.

Your mind went back to the last dinner the four of you had at your place, it was only three days ago. Just a day before the accident.

“Here’s to celebrating milestones in friendships!”

James raised his whiskey glass, making you, Tony and Pepper follow suit before you clinked them together with warm smiles. You had cooked a nice dinner to celebrate a year of moving into this home you shared with your loving husband. It may as well have been just an excuse to get together with your friends, which happened too often.

“Thank you for dinner, Y/N. It was delicious. And the blueberry pie too! It is Tony’s favorite.” Pepper announced, making you smile at her husband who returned it, albeit reluctantly. There was something about the way he looked at you, it made you nervous, not in a bad way, per se. It was like he could stare into soul.

“It’s Y/N’s favorite as well.” James chimed in, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

While you cleaned up in the kitchen, Pepper coaxed James to let her take the new SUV out for a spin. She had been trying to persuade Tony to get the same model but apparently he wasn’t too keen on letting his Audi R8 go.

“You think I could sneak in an extra piece of pie?” Tony’s voice took you by surprise as he entered the kitchen.

“Oh! I thought you went along with James and Pep?”

“I mean it was either a piece of pie or Pepper yapping my ear off about how my R8 isn’t exactly ‘fit to be a family car’.” he shrugged, making you chuckle as you took out the remaining pie from the fridge and cut him another slice.

You were suddenly aware of your heartbeat as Tony leaned over to grab the plate from you, the close proximity unfamiliarly welcoming. His fingers grazed over yours ever so lightly, leaving their presence to linger.

What was even going on?

Tony was a good-looking man, there wasn’t a question. He had a handsome face with an impeccably maintained beard that only seemed to suit him best. And his eyes. A light brew of your favorite coffee, the brown doe eyes held as much kindness as they held self assurance. Deep down, you felt an attraction towards the man. It was harmless, wasn’t it?

Only time would tell.

“Y/N?” Tony’s fingers snapped you back to reality, making you realize he had asked you a question.

“Yeah?”

“You went into one of your zones again, didn’t you?” He smiled, taking a bite of the pie and letting out a moan of delight.

“Sorry. One of my zones?”

“Yeah. Your mind tends to wander off when the conversation isn’t interesting for you. I’ve observed.” He wasn’t wrong. The fact that he noticed and pointed it out made your cheeks flush.

“Sorry about that. It’s nothing really. I was just thinking about the time we first got together. I—I mean the four of us.”

“Right. It was a long time ago, wasn’t it?”

“It was at one of your famous parties. I walked in looking to have a good time, you and I had one too many whiskies and the next thing I know Pepper dragged you back to your house and James ended up dropping me home. And the rest is history.”

“The rest is history.” Tony repeated with a small chuckle as memories of that evening played out in his head.

“Sometimes I wonder if…um. Nevermind.” He shrugged, cutting his sentence short leaving you to frown.

“If what? Go on.”

You saw him take in a deep breath, release it slowly before facing you fully after he kept the plate away.

“I wonder if the whole opposites attract thing truly worked out for us. Or we just settled because it was obvious.”

Tony’s words stuck with you long after that night was over. As did the look he gave you. It had longing and hints of regret. Something that reflected in your eyes as well.

You must’ve been crying again because Tony reached out to wipe tears that had escaped, offering you a cigarette which you accepted, filling your lungs with smoke and closing your eyes.

“You know, I spent half of yesterday just staring at my bottle of sleeping pills, wondering if it would hurt less if I just took them.” you murmured, staring into the distance. The void inside your chest seemed perpetual and only growing, there was no relief, no end to this pain.

Tony remained silent, he probably had the same thoughts running through his mind. But you couldn’t tell. He slid closer, placing his arm over the backrest of the bench.

“I need to speak to you about the accident, Y/N. I found out some things that you have the right to know too.” his brown eyes bore into yours, letting you know the urgency in his voice.

“Tell me now.” Shaking his head, Tony stubbed his cigarette and got up.

“Tomorrow. Come home and we’ll talk.”

“But it’s Pepper’s funeral–”

“I couldn’t care less. Trust me. Tomorrow.”

You were taken aback, watching him walk towards his car before driving off while you sat on the bench, a mess of complex emotions.

.

Your right foot was bouncing against the sofa as you waited for Tony, his house felt oddly quiet and dark now that Pepper was no longer around. Safe to say your own home wasn’t exactly in the best condition either. You couldn’t remember the last time you cleaned, or had a proper meal.

He returned with a familiar looking overnight bag, some papers and a phone. As he laid them out in front of you, a pit began forming in your stomach. This couldn’t be what you were thinking it could be. It couldn’t.

“This is what they recovered from the accident. The bag was in the trunk, the phone was found a few feet away and this.”

He handed you the papers first, it looked like a confirmation of a hotel booking, a hotel located just on the outskirts of the town. It was booked under James Rhodes. Why would he check into a hotel when he was supposed to be out of town for a conference?

“I don’t understand..” you trailed off, not really wanting to know the details but Tony handed you the phone next. What you read, broke your heart into a million pieces. The doubts that you tried to push down resurfaced and had materialized right in front of your eyes.

They were chats. Chats between Pepper and James. Your husband and Tony’s wife.

Your eyes burned but no tears came, you felt betrayed, hurt and angry like you hadn’t ever. It was months and months of private conversations between them, you hadn’t even noticed Pepper’s name saved with a heart emoji on James’s phone, right below was your last message to him, checking up on him to see if he reached safely.

You turned to look at Tony who sat with his arms crossed, jaw ticking and hands balled up against his sides. He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head before getting up to stand in front of the window that overlooked their huge backyard.

“Why didn’t–um, why didn’t the cops bring this to me?” you found your voice again but barely recognized it. It was hoarse from lack of use and weak, fearful of what you’d hear next.

“I asked them not to,” he replied quietly.

“Why?”

“Why? Seriously? You think you would’ve handled it well, Y/N? Given the things you said to me, I would be arranging for a third funeral right about now!” Tony didn’t mean to yell, but he did, because he shared your hurt and pain. He immediately regretted it watching you crumble on the floor, clutching the phone to your chest as you sobbed.

Dropping on his knees, he gathered you in his arms and let you cry, your tears soaked his shirt as you wept, body racking in pain while he held you. Your breath was still uneven but your tears eventually subsided, leaving behind a million questions.

“It had been going on for longer than a year, Y/N.” as if reading your mind, Tony mumbled, his voice muffled against your hair.

“I don’t want to believe it, Tony.”

He hugged you tighter, providing you the comfort you needed, wanted even, his presence grounded you, his scent calmed you.

“You’re staying here.” he declared once you separated, wiping tears from your cheeks and making you look up at him.

“I–I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. And you’re going to. You’re hurting, Y/N. We both are. I don’t think I could live with myself with you gone as well. I can’t.” Tony whispered, resting his forehead against yours, pleading you to stay.

He was right. You couldn’t bear the thought of returning to that house which you shared with James, your husband, also the man who had been cheating on you with your best friend for months. Given a choice, you would probably set it on fire to bury all the memories and destroy them. It wasn’t your happy home anymore.

“Will you stay?”

You nodded as he helped you back up, walking you up the stairs that led to the bedrooms.

“Wait, I can’t stay in the–”

“The guest bedroom is on your left. I’ve been sleeping there. I’ll take the other one. I can’t sleep in our bedroom either.” Tony’s lips were pressed in a thin line, fingers trembling before he hid them in his pockets.

Of course. It was hard for him too. You wondered if he had the same thoughts of burning the house down. You two were in the same boat, one that was drowning in a sea of sorrow, betrayal and tainted memories.

And now all you had was each other.

.

Moonlight streamed through the windows as you lay awake, staring at the ceiling for hours, sleep had evaded you. Checking the clock, it stated it was way past midnight, you turned to your side to attempt a small nap if your mind allowed; however a dull crash fell on your ears from downstairs, making you jump out of bed and scramble to the source.

It was Tony.

Eyes brimmed with tears, a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting atop the kitchen counter and shards of broken glass on the floor. As you stepped closer, you saw a broken picture frame as well, one that housed Tony and Pepper’s wedding day photo, both wide eyed and grinning ear to ear, now with a huge crack along the surface.

“Tony?” you treaded carefully, your voice barely over a whisper as you placed your hand on his shoulder.

His tense muscles relaxed under your touch, a sigh leaving his lips.

“She took a pregnancy test, Y/N.” he murmured so quietly you almost missed it. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you heard him. You knew Tony and Pep had been trying for a kid for a while now, Tony wanted a child more than anything.

“Oh my God.” You croaked, rubbing his back in attempts to comfort him as you saw his eyes brimming with unshed tears, your heart breaking for him.

“Now I can’t even know if it was mine. She was fucking pregnant!” He smashed the glass of whiskey on the opposite wall, the two of you watching the liquid stream down in little rivulets, joining the shattered glass.

Tony’s breaths were coming in erratic and shallow, his eyes unfocused, he was struggling to stand upright.

“Tony hey! Look at me, come on. Let’s get you over here.” You supported him until he was sitting on the barstool while you took a seat opposite him. Bringing your hands up to cup his face, you made him look into your eyes.

“Breathe for me, please. It’s okay.”

You sounded unsure but you hoped it was helping him, he was trying his level best to focus on your words but it was hard. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears, all other voices drowning as sweat lined on his forehead.

“Tony. Come on. I know you can do this. Focus. Just breathe.” You placed one of his hands on your chest, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, waiting for him to follow.

It took a few beats but eventually you succeeded in getting him back to normal. He squeezed your hand gratefully, nodding his head to let you know he was alright. You grabbed him a water before pouring yourself a glass of whiskey, neither of you bothering to clean up the mess in the kitchen.

You sat together in silence, pondering over what your lives had become in a span of a week. The alcohol definitely helped, numbed your pain and made you drowsy.

The sun was starting to rise outside, a dull, gray light filtering through the windows letting you know it was dawn. The word exhausted seemed to be synonymous with your daily routine, it was all you ever felt. You took your empty glass and were heading for the sink when Tony grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Where are you going?” The uncertainty in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings.

“Just to keep this. Tony, I’m right here.” You reassured the man who followed you into the kitchen, as if to make sure you wouldn’t disappear all of a sudden.

“Will you leave me?” He whispered shakily.

This wasn’t a side of Tony you had ever seen. You were used to the confident, sassy man who joked around and made you laugh.

“I can’t deal with the pain alone. Stay. Please. You’re all I have, Y/N.”

There wasn’t a muscle in your body that protested, not that you wanted to anyways. Laying his head against your chest, he hugged you, holding onto you with all his might.

“Okay, I’ll stay. I’ll stay as long as you need.”

“You will?”

He felt you nod as your fingers carded through his hair, calming his nerves and reassuring him of your presence. He didn’t know how long it would take for you both to recover, but as long as you were with him and he with you, he felt some semblance of hope. That eventually everything could be okay.

“Of course. You’re all I have too.”

[innerempire]

A fic where Quentin and Tony are best friends, have been since their days in MIT. Tony’s throwing Quentin a *massive* bachelor party - the fucker’s finally going to get married at 40. Tony insists that he should be throwing Quentin a funeral instead, because why would you fucking get married when you’re a billionaire in your 40s? They both proud owners of Stark-Beck Industries, with so much more they could achieve.

“You’re going through a 40s crisis, that’s what is it.”

But when Tony throws a party, he spares no fucking expense.

Quentin disappears somewhere halfway through the party and Tony finds him in one of the empty rooms upstairs, cock and balls deep in a cute young thing in a pizza delivery uniform.

“I hired escorts for you, expensive ones, no offense to you, honey-“ He tells the cute boy currently pinned beneath Quentin’s muscled frame, eyes glazed.

“What? He’s not the stripper you hired for me? I thought you wanted it a little cringe - have him in a delivery outfit.”

“If I wanted it to be cringe, I’d have him in a fucking pleated skirt and a white dress shirt with knee-high stockings.”

Jesus, there’s cum streaked on the boy’s face, on his chest, his cheeks are splotched red, but he doesn’t protest when Quentin lifts his legs up to his shoulder and practically bends Peter’s knees against his chest.

“So-“ Quentin says breathlessly. “You didn’t hire him?”

Ah fuck.

Tony vaguely recalls a drunk Natasha and Clint saying they were going to “order so many fucking pizzas”.

“Oh my fucking god-“ The boy does a full body shudder when Quentin really starts pounding into him, and Tony can’t look away from where his red-rimmed (swollen) hole is stretched to accommodate his best friend’s cock. Look, Quentin’s a big fucking man and the small ones don’t really enjoy taking it up the ass that much.

“Fucking hell, Quentin. He’s an actual delivery kid.”

“Could have fooled me.” Quentin grunts out. “His ass is fucking fantastic. Stop bitching, Tony. You wanna have a go? That’s okay, right, Petey? I promise you, Tony’s packing even if his height doesn’t-“

Peter can barely string a coherent sentence together, looking so blissed out.

“You should see the way he sucks cock.”

This is a potentially bad decision, but it’s what Quentin and Tony have always excelled at. He’s already unbuttoning his jeans, taking measured steps towards the bed.

Peter is pretty. Pretty young, his mind supplies unhelpfully.

“How old are you, kid?”

“17.” Quentin throws Tony a “seriously, Tony?” kind of look. “Of course I checked.”

“Glad to know your common sense still triumps over your cock-“

“Hey.” Peter peeks up at Tony from beneath his damp lashes. “Are you two gonna keep talking, or are you gonna fuck my face?”

Quentin shares a grin with Tony and slides his cock out with a half-punched groan, lube and cum giving his cock a wet sheen.

“I like this one.” Quentin dips down and kisses Peter, roughly cupping by him by the nape and squeezing. “Maybe we shoud keep him, Tones.”

Tony knee-walks across the bed, gazing down at Peter’s spit-slicked lips. He could imagine the fun three of them could have together - because hey, of course Tony and Quentin would have the same taste in a fuck toy.

“Well, consider that my wedding gift to you.”

- / -

“Fuck you, Tony. That’s not fair.” Tony laughs when Quentin walks in on one of the empty dressing rooms; Peter’s on his knees, lips wrapped so beautifully around his cock, careful not to get saliva on the suit Tony and Quentin had paid for to be custom-made for the wedding.

“Hey. I’m not the one signing my freedom away.”

Tony watches as his best friend approaches, laying a hand in Peter’s curls, stroking him affectionately. Four months later, and both of them have got quite the massive soft spot for Peter. There are days whereby Tony is amazed how gentle Quentin can be when he’s around Peter.

“Look, you made him sad that you’re getting married. It’s okay, baby.” Tony coos at the boy playfully. “It’s one less cock for a slut like you, but- ouch!”

He rubs the spot on his arm that Quentin had punched, grinning when he sees that Peter’s trying to hold his laughter in as well. “I’m just kidding, Quentin, relax. We both know a wedding ring and some cheesy vows you stole off Google isn’t going to stop you.”