Marvel Oneshots

Time goes on (Tony x Fem!Reader)

Word count: 382 

Warnings: ANGST

A/N I hope y'all like this! I know it is a lot shorter, but I wanted to post something since I haven't in a bit. 

He was a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. He was a nuisance. A jerk. But he was mine. And I had loved him. I loved him until the end.

He could not seduce me like all his other model playthings. He saw me as a challenge, but he also saw me. Just me. And soon, it was more than a challenge to him. It meant more than anything. He deflected his emotions, he hid, he did not want to lose me. I waved him away, not wanting to deal with it all. He was Iron Man. He was Tony Stark. I am just y/n l/n. I saw nothing special about myself. But he did.

Hidden feelings. Secret pining. Confessions turning into stolen kisses. Midnight champagne. Running out on parties, tipsy, sloppy. Tangled together, all night. Forehead kisses and marshmallows. Fireworks and lab tech. Naming robots, one by one. HIdden retreats in the mountains, alone. Snow in his eyebrows, in your lashes. Dancing slowly, like it was your wedding day. Piece by piece you broke into his heart, and what used to be the cocky Tony Stark became this vulnerable, emotional man. The man who you loved with your whole heart.

Alien attacks. Giant portal holes and missiles. Nightmares and hot chocolate. Hardened by grief, but stronger. Protective, loving. Building a new home. A new home for them all. A new kind of love, one that perseveres through the rough, that sticks around forever. New friends, new attacks. Growing by the day.

A proposal and wedding plans. Happiness turned to death, turned to waiting. Hoping. He has to come back. He has to. And he did. But things changed. Half the world was gone. More grief, for the ones lost. Rebuilding, a wedding, trying to move on. But never moving on. Years go on, bliss, yet guilt. So ideas spark, plans made. I hope, wait, in dread. Everyone is back, and then chaos. Suit on, fighting aliens from a different timeline. One last move made, to end it all. My Tony, in the heat of it all. White, and then dust. He laid on the ground, his eyes searching mine. Tears, heartache, even more grief. How much grief can a person take? Longing, wishing, empty bed. My Tony was gone. I could never get him back.