#Tony  stark imagine
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mostly-marvel-musings · 3 days ago
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Ballads for you
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A/N: I MISS WRITING. This week has been so hard 💔
Pairing: Young! Tony Stark x Reader
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It was a rare moment.
Rarest, you’d say.
Coming home after a long, tiring day to find your best friend turned boyfriend, Tony Stark sitting at his piano bench, eyes trained on the notes in front as he hummed along a soft tune.
What a sight!
Your heart thrummed happily at the visual of him so immersed in the activity. He would rarely allow himself to truly wind down, your man. Always up to ten things at a time while that genius mind swum with a million more.
His beautiful voice filled the room with joy as you felt a rush of emotions towards him, your eyes moist. Not wanting to disrupt the moment, you stood as silent as you could, wishing he’d continue just as he was.
You could listen to the man singing forever. He had the gentlest, sweet honeyed voice ever. It was mesmerising, a treat for the eyes and the ears. Who knew the man could make you swoon?
“I wrote this for you.”
He murmured softly, without actually turning to face you, he’s sensed you were listening in.
“Tony..I don’t know what to say.”
You truly didn’t. The man continued to surprise you in the best possible ways. The tune was meant for you, it somehow felt like it represented you. It was soft, melodious and unique.
“Don’t say anything. Come sit beside me.”
He patted the seat next to him, smiling at you. There wasn’t a reason in the world that could make you resist this beautiful man.
What a memory! One you’d cherish forever.
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I’m going to drown my sorrows in pizza and tequila. Cheers guys!
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moonlit-imagines · 5 months ago
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Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s child
Tony Stark x child!reader
warnings: alcohol ment,
a/n: so i just really think that the concept of tony having the party kid as opposed to nerdy avenger kid would be a really cool idea to explore teehee. most of this does actually take place pre-avengers tho!!
prompt:
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you we’re quite the exhausting kid
“is this really how it felt to raise me?” -tony
many of nights he’d find your bed empty, you’d snuck out to go have your fun as teenagers do
“yeah, boss, i imagine it was” -happy
you always showed back up in one piece (like him) and besides a little slap on the wrist you didn’t get much discipline
actually, it usually went like:
“so, where did you go off to last night?” -tony
“a party” -you
“really? didn’t want to loop me in before you snuck out…again?”
“last time i told you about a party you showed up!”
“uh—yeah, but it’s not like i went all dad on you and dragged you away or anything”
“yeah, you joined the party and offered to buy teenagers more booze”
“hey, they all loved you after that! and they couldn’t get enough of my classic dance moves” -tony, jokingly doing the sprinkler with one arm “but seriously, let me know next time”
“we’ll see about that” -you
^the above conversion went about the same every time
sometimes for entertainment purposes you’d try a little harder, throw a few pillows under the covers to make it look like you were still home to put a smile on tony’s face
“aw, y/n reminds me so much of me” -tony
tony was still partying at this point so you’d flip the script on him from time to time
“you were out late” -you
“what are you, a cop? leave me alone. actually, can you get me some aspirin and water?” -tony
“sure, one or two” -you
“make it three” -tony
he would nurse your occasional hangovers (what a great dad!)
okay, he didn’t always know when you were gone. he was busy a lot of the time with his own business and extracurriculars so you guys did just kinda do your own thing for certain stretches of time
honestly you could be a bit of a klepto in the best of ways
but only to tony and only for fun
“oh, great, where’s my car?” -tony
“which one?” -pepper
“the black one!” -tony
“be more specific” -pepper
“the only one missing from my garage!” -tony
“yeah, i know, just wanted to give you some more time to think about it” -pepper
“i changed the code on the lockbox like, five times this week. did they hotwire it?” -tony
“we are talking about your kid, right? pretty sure they just hacked it” -pepper
“i am…so proud” -tony
you MAY have gotten a few close calls with authorities, but nothing tony couldn’t handle
and up until tony’s accident, the phrase “you’re going to give me a heart attack” was silly and endearing
“you might actually give me a heart attack, y/n, give a guy some warning or just say please for god’s sake” -tony, now comes with an arc reactor in his chest
“sorry” -you
“what—huh—didn’t hear ya, wanna say that a little louder?” -tony, very sarcastically
i tell ya when he got that armor u couldn’t tell if u were gonna flip out at him or invite him to a party
or steal it for…you didn’t even know what
but tony was 3 steps ahead of you when all this came to be
and you weren’t very interested in weapons, still just parties and dumb fun for you
“dad, i dont wanna be a nerd, will you just let me go out?” -you
“come on! just help me in the lab a few hours, what’s it gonna hurt?” -tony
“my social status” -you
“might i remind you you’re a stark? i think you’ll live if you miss one party” -tony
“you’d be surprised” -you
“hey, i almost died! give your old man a break” -tony
once tony got involved with SHIELD and the avengers he got even busier really
and in came the parenting advice from fury, clint, nat, steve
“hey, i don’t see you raising a teenager, back off” -tony
*clint side eye*
steve once tried to give you a good talking to, but you reminded him a great bit of your father with your stubbornness
“you done? i dont think you should be giving out any parenting tips fresh off the ice” -you
tony was kind of proud of you for sticking to your guns
especially around such powerful people
but you had a knack for that and could do it to practically anyone
mostly because you felt like an invincible teenager since you were raised by tony, who also thought himself an invincible teenager at one point
u tried to tone down giving tony grief when he started having panic attacks
since u accidentally caused a few by pushing boundaries and staying out for several nights in a row
cuz as tony gained more enemies, he thought you’d be in more danger
which was true
“happy, you’re y/n’s personal bodyguard” -tony
“no!” -you
“uh, cool? any fun parties planned tonight? i’ll be the designated driver. god knows i’ve been tony’s too many times” -happy
taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //
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upat4amwiththemoon · 8 months ago
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Hey I’m sorry to bother, but can you do a Tony x teen reader? Platonic or familial obviously, but like where the reader isn’t smart academically and she’s constantly doing bad on tests and Tony comforting her? It’s fine if not thank you for your time either way :)
Academic validation
Summary: Tests aren’t the only thing that determine children’s intelligence.
Pairing: Tony Stark x teen!reader, Avengers x teen!reader
Warnings: I have no understanding of American education system
Word count: 870
a/n: I need that academic validation
Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore
masterlists | guidelines
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The huge encircled D on Y/N’s physics exam is the only thing on her mind as she walks towards the Avenger’s tower.
There’s a permanent frown on her face. She really studied for this test, she even got Tony to quiz her, but clearly that didn’t help. He’s going to be so disappointed in her.
Y/N walks into the tower, giving the security guard in the lobby a small wave before going into the elevator. She holds onto her backpack’s straps tightly as she waits for the elevator to stop on the common floor. She hopes Tony won’t be in there.
The elevator doors opens and Y/N gets out of it. Her steps are slow and quiet, she doesn’t want to announce her arrival to anyone. A shaky sigh leaves her mouth when she hears people talking in the common room.
She tries to walk past everyone, quickly but quietly, but it’s not very easy to sneak past Avengers. “Hey, kid!” Sam exclaims, waving her over to the small group hanging out on the couches.
Y/N lets out a breath, putting on a smile as she makes her way over to them. “Hi, guys.” Her eyes move over everyone. No Tony, that makes her relax just a bit. “What are you doing?”
Natasha’s arm is is laying on the couch’s back rest, her fingers gently rubbing Wanda’s shoulder, as she gives Y/N a cheeky look. “Wanda got offended when Sam said Fuller House is better than Full House, so she is making us watch Full House.”
Wanda pushes Natasha’s side, glaring at her before turning to Y/N. “No one in their right mind thinks a sequel of an iconic show is better than the show itself.” At the end of the sentence, she glares at Sam too, who raises his hands in mock surrender.
“Okay.” Y/N giggles with a shake of her head. At times she thinks of herself more mature than the adults.
“Want to join us, honey?”
“Uh,” she bites her lip, “no, I can’t sorry.” She has decided to beg her teacher for a retake of the test to get a more respectable grade to show Tony.
“Okay, but don’t think you’re getting away from watching Full House with me.” Wanda grins.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Y/N waves at the trio and makes her way to her room.
In her room, she takes out the physics exam and looks it through over and over again, until she has fully memorized which parts she did wrong. It takes two hours. Two hours, which Y/N didn’t notice going by.
A knock on her door makes her jump. Her wide eyes glance at the clock, grumbling when she notices it’s over dinner time.
“It’s open!”
Tony walks inside the room, a small grin on his face and a plate of food on his hand. “I know everyone says we’re too alike, but please don’t take up on my habit of missing meals.” He sets the plate down on her desk. “It’s a bad habit, kiddo.”
“I won’t.” Y/N lets out an airy laugh, setting the test paper on the desk and pulling the plate in front of her.
“That your physics test?” Tony grabs the sheet of paper before Y/N is able to hide it.
“No!”
“What?” Tony glances at her with a frown. His eyes skim over both sides of the paper.
Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, her gaze going straight to the floor as she feels disappointment seeping into her body. “I did badly.” She mumbles, waiting for Tony’s criticism.
“So?” Tony sets the test back down. “Do you know how bad I did in school? I’m still absolutely brilliant.” He sits on her bed.
“Yeah.. but you’re great at physics, and math, and all that important stuff.”
“Sure.” Tony nods. “But this is only one test,” he taps the paper, “and you’re so great at so many things. You get As on history and English, you have a great eye for design, you have impeccable people skills, even though you hate most of them.” He laughs. “One physics exam doesn’t mean shit.”
Y/N looks at Tony, a small frown on her face. “But I want to be like you.”
“Kiddo, no one is going to be like me, not should they try to be like me.” Tony pats Y/N’s knee. “Is physics your passion?”
“I don’t know what my passion is.”
“Well, when you find your passion, I will be the one to hire you to work in a job that you love. Because no child living under my roof will work a day in their life in a job they despise. Yes, I will always encourage you to do your best at tests, but I’ll be proud of you no matter how well or bad you do in them.”
Sniffling, Y/N lunges to hug Tony. He embraces her right back, holding onto her tightly as long as she needs to be held, because even though he doesn’t love physical touch, he refuses to be the first one to pull away when a kid he considers his needs comfort.
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ddejavvu · 6 days ago
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Tonys controversially younger gf is so funny to me, he so randomly doesnt pay for things just to mess with her💀
oh fuck anon you hit me right where i needed it.
you're not overly demanding with his money, so when you ask nicely for something and he says, 'no. i'm starting to think you're using me for my money', you're at a total loss.
you've got this little pout on your face as you figure out how to respond, because no, you're not only with him for his money, but damn, it's nice to have at your fingertips. you can take the rejection, you just don't understand why he's saying no, because if anyone in the world is made of money it's tony stark. he loves watching you grapple silently with the 'no' because you don't want to come off as entitled or a gold digger so you don't confront him about it, but you're clearly bothered by the situation because he totally could buy it for you but he's not going to so does that mean you did something wrong?
he watches the wheels turn furiously in your sweet little head and probably has already purchased whatever it was, not that he'll tell you until it arrives. he's just a shithead that likes to mess with you.
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infictionalwonderland · 1 year ago
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Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?
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. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!
Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.
So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.
‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.
Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.
Surely this was an exaggeration.
The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.
The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.
“How do you feel about your costume?”
Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.
“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”
The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.
With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.
The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.
He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.
“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”
“SEBA—“
“Cut!”
The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.
“Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.
“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”
“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.
You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.
“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”
“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.
“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.
The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)
Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”
Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”
“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.
Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.
Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”
“But—“
“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.
Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)
“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.
The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.
“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.
“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.
“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”
Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.
The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.
“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.
“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.
“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”
“I—“
“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.
The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.
“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.
“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.
The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s’ together.
“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”
McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.
“This is getting juicy!”
“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“
“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.
Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”
“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.
The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.
He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.
“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”
By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.
“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.
“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.
In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.
The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.
“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”
Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”
Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.
The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.
“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”
“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.
“CHRI—“
In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.
“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.
“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.
“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.
“I concur.” You grinned back.
The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.
“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”
“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.
You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.
The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.
Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.
The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.
“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.
“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.
The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.
“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”
“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.
“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.
“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.
“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.
“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.
There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰
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lokigodofmyheart · 3 months ago
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RED FLOWER
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Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader
Words: 1.939
Summary: Tony and Y/N went to a mission together.
Warning/Content: smut, sex pollen
MASTERLIST KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
Rogers said the base was abandoned and there was no reason to go the whole team, so Y/N and Tony were the chosen ones to go. As they stepped off the jet and walked to the base, they were meet with a field of red flowers. 
“This is...odd.” Y/N says as they walk in the grass. 
“Seems like every HYDRA base we've raided. But I agree, kinda weird to have a garden.” Tony picked one up in his hand. 
Y/N looked at him, rolling her eyes “Really? You’re picking the weird HYDRA flower?” 
“It's a flower. Not gonna hurt me.” Stark says, looking at the flower in his hand and then at her “You worry too much...” He brought the flower closer and sniffed it “It smells nice.” 
“Don’t smell the flower, Stark!!” Y/N could not believe he was doing that. Was he stupid or something? “What if it’s poisonous?” 
Stark rolled his eyes looking at her “Nothing is going to happen, relax. You're being paranoid.” 
“It’s HYDRA, I’m not being even enough paranoid.” 
Tony laughs as they kept waking to get in the base, with the flower on his hand “You really think they'd make a flower that kills people? That's a little ridiculous.” he teased, waving the flower in front of her face.  
She pushes his hand away from her face. He was right, the flower did smell nice “I swear, if I die because you made smell a flower...”  
“You will not die.” he shoved it into her face, chuckling. Y/N, again, pushed his hand away from her face. 
“Let’s get over with this mission, I’m feeling a creepy vibe from here.” She says, as they kept waking. Inside of the base, most of the floor was covered in grass and the same flower.  
“Did they decide to start a flower shop or something?” he said as he looked at the sea of flowers in front of them. Stark had to admit that Y/N was right, that seems creepy. 
Y/N took a deep breath while they walk. The whole place smelled like the flower “Something’s not right here, Stark...the base is abandoned and full of flowers?” 
“You won’t die because of those flowers.” Tony says, rolling his eyes once again. 
“But what if we do?”  
“You won’t. We won’t. Relax. It’s creepy, but they won’t kill us.”  
They started to walk more into the base, checking the rooms, but all they found was empty places, totally abandoned and again, full of flowers. As they kept checking, they start feeling the temperature rising.  
Tony was the first one to speak “Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?” 
“No, it’s hot...” Y/N noticed thermostat on the wall, and when she saw it was the same temperature that before, she found even weirder “Huh...” 
Stark pulled a little at the neck of his shirt, a bit uncomfortable “Yeah, something is definitely wrong.” 
Finally, they found a room that wasn’t empty, just abandoned. There was a few computers and papers. Y/N looked at Tony “Let’s see if we find anything so we can go.” Tony agreed, going to check the computers, but none of them worked. He was getting more and more frustrated with this mission.  
Y/N kept looking at the papers in front of her, until she found something. It wasn’t good. Not even a little. “Uh...Tony?” 
“Yeah?” He says, getting closer to her. 
“What exactly are you feeling?” 
“I don't know... hot? Really uncomfortable...” he mumbled, tugging at his pants. Y/N looked at the paper and then back at him, and her face wasn’t good. “What is it?” 
“So...that flower is the reason this place is abandoned. According to these papers here, they tried to make one and they started multiplying faster than they could control...” 
“And...?” Tony looks at her curiously, he knew that was more. 
“And this flower release an... aphrodisiac pollen...” 
“What?” he paused, looking at her confused “Are you telling me these flowers release a... sex pollen?” 
Y/N nods, looking at the paper “Oh, and hear that. They kill you if you try to resist the effects.” She glares at him. “Who would thought the weird flower at HYDRA base would kill us...” 
Tony took a deep breath, assimilating the new information “Okay, so maybe you were right...” 
“Maybe??” 
“Don't rub it in.” he mumbled, feeling hotter by the second “This thing works stupidly fast too...” 
She nods, agreeing “We’re still exposed to the pollen. We have to get out of her and go back to the compound, maybe Bruce can think of something...” 
Stark nodded, trying to control himself as they started to walk towards the exit. Every step he took was a struggle “Sounds good. God, I feel like I had a whole pack of Viagra.” Y/N chuckles, but she wasn't feeling any better than him. Walking got very difficult to Tony as he started to get increasingly more uncomfortable and his mind started to wander. He started to look at Y/N bit too often, trying to ignore the thoughts he was having. 
It didn't take long for them to reach the jet, and as soon they were in, Y/N was already speaking “JARVIS, home. Now.” 
“JARVIS, how long until we get home?” Was Tony’s time to ask. 
“Forty minutes, Mr. Stark.”  
“Forty minutes?” he groaned, getting more uncomfortable. His jeans were feeling very tight, and he could feel his cock already hard enough and throbbing with need. Y/N didn't miss the tent on his pants. She was having trouble with how drenched her panties were and seeing Tony that hard wasn’t helping her need. 
He was trying not to move too much, but the uncomfortable feeling was starting to get really bad. He wanted, no, NEEDED to do something “Turn around.” 
“What?” Y/N was already out of breath, the arouse making hard for her to think of anything. 
“Just, turn around.” he said in a deeper, raspy voice. 
“That won’t help and you know it.” 
Tony groaned, feeling more frustrated” I know. But I need to do something, so please, just turn around.” he begged with a very obvious plead in his voice. 
Y/N did what he wanted. She could hear when he opened his pants and when it fell to the ground. She could hear the low moan he let when he touched his cock and she could hear in the silent jet the sound of his hand masturbating himself. She tried to do the same, opening her pants and letting her hand slide in her folds. Her panties were already ruined when she starts touching herself. It didn’t help. Not her, not Tony. If anything, just made them feel even worse. 
“This isn’t helping...” Tony says, breathing hard already, still stroking himself. 
“No...” Y/N answers with her hands still in her pants. 
He took a deep breath “God, why is this taking so long? JARVIS, how much time?” 
“Thirty minutes, sir.” Came the electronic voice. 
Tony closed his eyes, taking a deep breath again “Okay...thirty minutes...we can survive thirty minutes, right?” 
“We won’t.” Y/N sighs “We will burn from inside out and when we land, we will be already dead...” 
He swallowed hard, the thoughts going through his head were making everything worse “I need to- need to do something...” 
“The only way is if we fuck.” 
“Well, I ain't arguing with you there.” he said with a slightly deeper voice, very clearly struggling to stay still and control himself “Come over here...” 
Y/N didn't need to be told twice. She turns back to him, seeing his cock free and hard and walked to him. He groaned the second she was close enough, feeling his heart racing. He put his hand on her hips and pulled her on him, making Y/N fall straddling him. He bit his lip to control himself, putting his arms around her waist as he moved involuntarily his hips. 
She let out a soft moan, not wasting any time to undress him. It was a blurry as they took each other’s clothes and, in a minute, she was naked on his lap, feeling his cock brushing against her pussy. He groaned feeling her wetness on him, before he let his lips find her neck and started kissing a sensitive spot. A low moan came out of her lips, and her hips involuntarily rocked against his, needing the friction. 
He started to pant, kissing the sensitive spot a bit harder while he holding her hips in a firm grip, starting to guide her movements as he was getting impatient. 
“Tony...I need you.” She says in a moan. 
“I need you too...” he panted, moving his hand on the back of her thigh to support her as he stands up and back her on the jet wall. He pressed his body against hers, pinning her on the wall. He looked at her one last time to make sure she was okay.  
Y/N gave him a small nod and Tony didn’t waste any time to align himself with her entrance and slowly entering her. She let out a moan and Tony groans, the feeling much more intense than any sex they had before because of the pollen. 
Tony looked at her, watching her reaction as he pulled almost all out and then in. Y/N moans again. He tried to be slow at first, but the pollen was making so hard that without noticing, he was thrusting on her hard and fast, losing the gentleness, grabbing her hips a little harder. 
His mouth found the spot on her neck again, sucking on the skin. He had his mind going blank, everything he could focus on was the pleasure he was feeling and how good she felt around him. 
“Tony...” She moans his name “I-I’m...” 
He knew what she wanted to say. Hell, he could feel her tightening around him already “Cum for me...”. Y/N barely holds another second before she clenched around his cock, making Tony moan at the feeling. She arched her back from the wall was she moans his name.  
Her orgasm and the pollen made it for him. He came right after her, holding her even tighter on his body and thrusting on her as he rides out his climax. Tony collapsed back on the seat, keeping Y/N's leg around him. They were breathing hard after the intense sex they had, but now they didn't feel the pollen anymore. It worked. Tony was trying to breath normally again, still having her on his lap.  
He ran his fingers through her hair, while he looked at her “God...that felt good...” Y/N only nods, not trusting her voice after that intense orgasm she had. “You okay?” he asked, pulling her hair out of her face. 
Y/N nodded again “...you?” 
“Yeah...yeah...I'm good...” he smiled a little, pulling her a bit closer “Tired as hell, but good.” 
“Sir, we’ll be landing in five.” JARVIS says, interrupting their moment. 
He nodded “Thanks, Jarvis...We better get dressed, before the rest of the team sees us like this.” Y/N gave him a nod, before she pulled herself out of him, still feeling her legs a little weak. Tony looked at her and chuckled, not even trying to hold back his smirk “Your legs are shaking, huh?” 
“That was the pollen, not you.” She says to tease him while they got dressed. 
Tony walked to her with a lust in his eyes I’m more than welcome to prove you wrong when we land.” 
“Your room or mine?” She smirks. 
He returned the smirk “Mine.” 
437 notes · View notes
lesbian-deadpool · 2 years ago
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Y/N: If I had shape shifting powers I would abuse the hell out of them.
Y/N: Like if I'm arguing with someone, I'd turn into their dead relative.
Tony: Genius.
Bruce: *Booking them both more therapy sessions*
4K notes · View notes
chaoticforever · 6 months ago
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Remnants of Regret | Tony Stark x Son! Reader
Summary: All Y/n ever wanted was his father’s love. Was that too much to ask?
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Y/n sat on the floor in his bedroom, legs crossed, focusing intently on the canvas propped up before him. With a charcoal stick in his hand, Y/n carefully sketched the outline of a cityscape, his e/c eyes narrowed in concentration. His room permeated with the soft scratching of charcoal on canvas, a melody in the air.
Once Y/n finished the final touches and scooted back to examine his piece. One simple word crossed his mind: beautiful.
Since childhood, Y/n has loved drawing, sketching, and painting. He started with simple subjects like trees, flowers, and stars, then progressed to more complex images like people's faces and vehicles. He loved it so much that he pursued an art degree in college, unable to imagine a life not surrounded by art of some kind.
Furthermore, art allowed him to express emotions that words couldn't convey by providing an escape from the chaos of everyday life. It was just him, his brush, and the many possibilities on a canvas.
However, Y/n sometimes wondered if choosing art as his passion was a good idea since his father, Tony Stark, did not seem to appreciate his artistic abilities. Instead, he shifted the appreciation that he should have for Y/n to someone else.
Peter Parker.
See, Y/n Stark is the type of guy who preferred music and painting to building suits and technology that Tony loved so much, which only seemed to widen the gap between father and son. Tony didn’t seem to have much time for his son but made sure to have lots of time for Peter, who shared Tony's love for technology.
Y/n couldn’t help but feel jealous as he watched his dad always dote on Peter, offering him opportunities and praise that Y/n craved. But he seemed to have little time or patience for his artistic son.
He placed his finished piece on his desk and started putting away his sketching utensils. Just then, he heard a knock on his open door and turned around to see that Steve was standing in the doorway. Y/n smiled when he saw Steve. Besides Tony, Steve was his favorite Avenger. He sometimes acted more of a parent than the one currently in his life and the guys both bonded over their love for drawing.
"Hey, Steve. How was the mission?"
"Tiring. Dealing with rogue mutants can certainly take a toll on me," Steve replied, his eyes suddenly drifting to Y/n's newly crafted sketch, "Nice drawing Y/n. Is this for your end-of-semester art project?"
Y/n nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes, my professor wanted the class to draw something that represents our unique perspective on the world."
"And what perspective is that?"
Y/n paused to think about that question. "I guess... It's my view of the world as an artist. The world is full of life and energy, but there's also darkness and shadows. It's a reminder that beauty and struggles coexist. Nothing can ever change that."
Steve nodded, tracing the bold lines and subtle shading. "That’s an interesting yet accurate perspective. I am proud of you. You’re going to do great things one day."
A small smile appeared on Y/n’s face. He may not have gotten his dad’s praise, but he was happy that someone praised his artistic abilities and told him that he was proud of him. It warmed his heart.
"Thank you. That means a lot to me."
"You’re welcome. By the way, we’re having a group dinner tonight. We’ll be having lasagna, so bring your appetite."
Y/n grinned. He loved the soldier's cooking, especially when it was a dinner meal. It was so much better than eating takeout. "Oh, I'll be there, and y'all better hope that it all doesn’t get eaten by me."
Steve laughed before pivoting on his heel and leaving. Y/n watched as the soldier's retreating figure disappeared down the hall before turning back to his sketch, contentment washing over him.
As Y/n admired his work, his thoughts drifted back to his father. He knew that Tony loved him in his own way, but their relationship had always been strained. Tony’s focus on technology and his busy lifestyle, along with mentoring Peter, left little room for the two to hang out or for Tony to understand Y/n's passion for art.
But now, Y/n was determined to fix their relationship. After all, he lost his mother over a decade ago, and his father was the only blood family that he had left. He didn’t want their relationship to continue to be strained, and if Tony could make room for Peter in his life, then he could make some room for his biological son.
With that thought in mind, the e/c-eyed male headed to the private elevator that would take him to Tony’s workshop. And as he rounded the corner, he bumped into Rhodey, whom Y/n often looked up to as well. They greeted each other with their signature handshake that was only made for them two before Rhodey took off, explaining that he had a meeting to attend with a council member, and Y/n continued his journey to the workshop.
When he arrived at Tony's workshop, he saw his father standing next to his work bench, typing on his phone. Behind Tony, there was his Iron Man suit, opened up. Y/n figured that he just stepped out of it.
"Hey, Dad." Y/n greeted politely, crossing the room to give Tony a one-armed hug.
Surprisingly, Y/n's father did reciprocate the hug but didn’t even bother to look up at his son when he greeted him. He just kept his brown eyes glued to the phone in his hand. "Y/n. How was your day?"
"It was good. Classes were pretty light today, and I mostly just worked on my end-of-the-semester project for art class." Y/n explained, hoping that Tony would ask him more follow-up questions, such as what piece Y/n decided to draw or if he could see the work for himself. However, all Tony gave was a curt nod, still typing on that phone of his. So, Y/n cleared his throat and switched topics: "Dad, do you want to hang out this Saturday? There’s this art showing at the museum, and—"
"An art showing?" Tony finally looked up from his phone, his eyes flicking briefly to his son’s face before returning to the screen. "Sorry, kid, but I have meetings this Saturday. Besides, I’d rather watch paint dry than look at old paintings. You know that I’m more of a technology and engineering kind of guy than an art one."
Y/n's shoulders drooped, and he tried to hide the disappointment he felt. "Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe you’d want to spend some time together. It’s been a minute since we did something like that."
Tony seemed oblivious to Y/n's reaction, continuing to tap away at his phone. "Well, we’ve been busy. You're busy with college, and I'm busy with SI and saving the world, two full-time jobs for me," he put his phone down on the desk, finally giving Y/n his full attention. "But you’re right, we haven’t hung out in a long time. How about we go see that new Outlast movie that’s coming out next weekend?"
Y/n nodded, a small smile coming onto his face. Even though it wasn’t what he wanted to do, he was just happy to have some father-son time with his dad. And more importantly, it was without Peter.
"That sounds good to me. I can’t wait."
Y/n turned around and prepared to leave the room, excitement fluttering in his chest, just as Tony got a phone call from Peter. Y/n stood there for a moment and listened to how Tony asked Peter when he would be coming over and that Tony cleared the rest of his schedule today to help Peter with his last semester project.
The h/c-haired son frowned, feeling the excitement he felt a couple seconds ago disappear and the raw disappointment return. So, Tony can clear his schedule for Peter and make time for him, but he can't make time for his biological son?
It was ridiculous.
But Y/n had to remind himself that it was okay. Peter could have that time with his father all he wanted to today because next weekend, the two Starks would be spending some time together.
Feeling satisfied, Y/n left the workshop and returned to his room. It turned out that he had two things to look forward to: lasagna and the movies next week.
He couldn’t wait.
XXXXX XXXXX
The days passed slowly, but finally, the long-awaited Saturday finally arrived. It was the day of the planned outing with Y/n and his father, a day Y/n had been looking forward to. He hoped this would be a turning point in their relationship, a chance to bridge the gap that seemed to widen between them every passing day.
Now, he was getting ready in his room, choosing a casual outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. He knew that, even though it was April, the weather was rather cool with it being sixty-five degrees outside. That made him add a blue jacket to his outfit.
After checking himself out in the mirror, he walked down the hall to the common area, where Tony had told him to meet. As he walked down the hall, he hoped that the horror movie they were going to see would be good. The trailer did look promising but they can also be deceitful.
Y/n rounded the corner and entered the common area, where the Avengers were watching a movie and enjoying a spread of pizzas, popcorn, nachos, and cheese fries. Thor was the only one who wasn’t here since he went to Asgard for a few days. He noticed they were watching the first "Back to the Future," a classic Steve had promised to watch at the next team movie night after Y/n discovered that he had never seen that movie series before.
Guess he finally listened, Y/n thought as he looked around the room and noticed something that he had failed to notice.
His dad was nowhere to be found.
"Hey, has anyone seen my dad?" Y/n asked, looking over the team of heroes.
"Yeah, he left. You just missed him too." Clint answered, his fingers reaching into the popcorn bowl that was in his lap and shoving some popcorn into his mouth.
Y/n frowned. What? "Left? Left where?"
"He said that he was taking Peter to the science fair." Steve munched on a pizza.
The college student's heart sank and his shoulders sagged, feeling disappointed. So, his father had forgotten about their plans. Again. And it was for Peter. Again.
"Oh," was all Y/n could manage to utter. He knew that he should be used to this, but it still stung every time it happened.
Natasha, sensing the disappointment in Y/n's timbre, glanced over at him. "You didn't know he was going out with Peter."
That was a statement, not a question. Natasha had always been perceptive.
"No, no, I did," Y/n backpedaled, forcing a grin. He didn't understand why he was protecting his father, but he just wanted this conversation to end. "I just forgot, but you telling me made me remember."
Y/n knew he was a terrible liar, and he didn't sound convincing. He knew they didn't believe him, considering Steve's frown, Bruce's concerned look, and the looks shared between Clint and Natasha.
Bruce grabbed the remote and paused the movie. "Look, why don't you join us, Y/n? You can finish the movie with us."
"Yeah, come on, Y/n!" Sam piped up. "We've got plenty of food, and we were just about to start a game of charades."
Y/n glanced at the team of superheroes. While he appreciated their invitation, he had been looking forward to spending time with his dad, so he shook his head but still kept the forced smile on his features. "Thank you guys, but I think I'll just head back to my room. Next time."
The h/c-haired male turned around and left the main area, frustration nagging at his insides. When he got to his room, he flopped down on his bed, back pressed against it as he stared up at the ceiling.
He didn’t understand.
Why did Tony continue to treat him as an afterthought? And what the hell was so damn special about Peter? Why did he always have to be the recipient of his father’s love? He couldn’t help but feel like he was always playing second fiddle to the guy who was two years younger than him. It was ridiculous to be jealous of someone younger than him, but Y/n couldn’t help himself. It hurt so much that his father favored Peter over him.
Y/n pulled out his phone, intending to call his dad when he got a notification from Instagram that his dad had posted a pic. He clicked on it and found himself staring at an image of his dad with Peter.
The caption read: Peter will take over my company someday. #prouddadmoment.
Proud dad moment...?
Peter wasn’t even his actual son and Y/n couldn’t stand the way his dad looked at Peter with such praise. What can I do to make him look at me like that one time?
And before Y/n knew it, his cheeks were pelted with water, and he just realized at that moment that he was crying. The tears fell to his cheeks before dropping onto the bed, but Y/n wiped his cheeks angrily since he shouldn’t allow this to make him sad. But it was so hard not to.
His e/c eyes drifted to the photo that was on his side table. He reached for it and picked it up. It was a photo of his mom. Y/n allowed his finger to run over his mom’s smiling face in the picture. It’s times like this when he wishes that she was still alive. At least then, he’d have a parent in his life who cared about him.
Suddenly, a knock came from his door.
"Come in," Y/n called out, setting down the photo back on his desk. He wished that it was his father knocking on the door, but he wasn't surprised when the door opened, and it wasn't him. It was Steve. "Hi, Steve. Did you like the movie?"
Steve nodded, taking a seat on the bed. "I did. It was a great eighties film. I can see why you love it so much." Steve then changed the conversation. "You okay?"
Y/n nodded. He knew he wasn't okay, but he didn't want to ruin Steve's evening with his problem. "I'm fine. Shouldn't you be playing charades with everyone else?"
The soldier disregarded the question and simply stared at Y/n for a moment, seemingly sensing that he wasn’t telling the truth. "Hey, why don't we grab some dessert? I know a great ice cream shop."
Y/n hesitated briefly. He didn't want to be a burden to Steve, but he also didn't want to spend his evening in his room.
"That sounds nice, thanks." Y/n smiled and followed the soldier out of the door.
Steve drove them to a small ice cream parlor that was tucked away in the city on his motorcycle, a vehicle that Y/n had never expected to get on willingly. Steve got the classic chocolate sundae, while Y/n got a vanilla sundae with chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and a cherry on top.
They then went to the park to watch the beautiful sunset and enjoy their sundae. The sun, a fiery orb of warmth and light, dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky with two shades of orange and pink.
Y/n and Steve watched the breathtaking scene in comfortable silence. The park was lively with kids playing, the distance hum of cars, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Y/n's vanilla sundae sat untouched. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by the disappointment and hurt he felt over Tony's absence. Steve, on the other hand, enjoyed his chocolate sundae, taking slow, deliberate bites of it.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The super soldier broke the silence, his eyes shifting over.
"Yup," Y/n murmured, his e/c eyes taking in the stunning view. "It's like a painting."
Steve smiled, nodding his head in agreement. He then spoke again, his voice deadly serious. "So, what's going on? You've seemed a little down lately."
Y/n let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in lying to Steve. "It's my dad. I just feel like he always puts Peter first. It's like I'm not even his real son sometimes."
The blonde's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "I know it's tough, but try not to take it personally. Your dad has a unique relationship with Peter, but that doesn't diminish his love for you. You're his son."
He sighed again, "I know but it's hard not to feel overshadowed sometimes. Peter gets all the attention, and I'm just... here."
"Your dad may not always show it, but he's proud of you, Y/n," Steve assured him. "And I know that he loves you very much. Sometimes, parents just need a little reminder that their kids need them."
Y/n nodded, but he couldn't help feeling skeptical. After all, actions spoke louder than words, and Tony's actions indicated that he loved Peter more than him. Like Y/n would always come second to Peter.
But he didn't feel like dwelling on Tony's absence anymore. Instead, he turned his attention back to the sunset, watching as the last sliver of the sun disappeared behind the horizon. The sky grew darker, the colors of the sunset fading into the twilight. He didn't get the opportunity to spend the evening with his father as he planned, but at least he had spent it with someone who cared about him deeply.
And that made him smile.
XXXXX XXXXX
The next morning, Y/n found himself in the kitchen, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. The events of the previous day still weighed heavily on his mind, leaving a bitter taste that even the strongest brew couldn't mask. He wanted to confront his dad about his behavior, but at the same time, he didn't want to talk to him after what happened.
As he added a dash of sugar to his cup, the familiar clanking of Tony's footsteps drew closer. He saw his father enter the kitchen, but Y/n leaned against the counter, his back stiff and his gaze fixed on the windows. He deliberately avoided greeting his dad as he would usually do.
"Morning, Y/n," Tony greeted politely, but Y/n remained quiet, his back still turned. Feeling perplexed by the cold shoulder, Tony frowned. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing that concerns you," Y/n replied, voice low and dismissive as he finished his coffee and placed the cup in the sink.
Y/n moved forward, attempting to leave the kitchen, but Tony stepped in front of him, unsatisfied with the response. "I'm your father. It's my job to be concerned."
Y/n's laughter rang out, harsh and bitter as if Tony had just told him a funny joke. "That is quite ironic coming from you."
The frown on Tony's features deepened. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Y/n's voice was quiet, "that lately, you've been anything but a father to me. But I can't say the same for Peter tho. You literally drop everything for him, but you can't even remember our plans."
Tony took a step forward, his tone rising defensively. "That's not true, Y/n. I do my best to be there for both of you. I juggle a lot, but I make time for you when I can."
Y/n's gaze didn't waver and he cocked his head to the side. "You make time for me? Then where were you last evening?"
"I took Peter to the science fair."
"Even though we had plans to go to the movies?" The younger man pointed out.
Tony's eyebrows furrowed as realization dawned, shame washing over his face. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I know we had plans, but Peter needed me. I couldn't leave him."
The two Starks were so busy arguing that neither of them noticed a stealthy figure that managed to infiltrate the compound, temporarily disable Friday, and had a knockout device in their hand. 
"Peter needed you?" Y/n shook his head, his voice thick with hurt. Why did he forget about me? "What about what I need? You're my dad, not his. I need you."
Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You have me every day, Y/n. Don't you see that I am always here for you?"
"Are you, Dad?!" Y/n's voice rose to a shout. "When was the last time we spent quality time together, just the two of us? When was the last time you and I had a real conversation that wasn't about your work or Peter? When was the last time you asked about what's going on in my life? You probably don't even know that my birthday is in two days. I'll be turning twenty-three, by the way. You don't know that one of my art pieces was presented at the museum you found too boring to visit. And you don't know that I made the Dean's List in school for the third year in a row!" Y/n's voice dropped to a whisper, but the words still stung like acid. "Mom would never treat me the way you do."
Tony flinched as if struck, his eyes widening at the mention of Y/n's mother. The weight of his son's words hit him like a physical blow, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the room began to fill with a thick fog.
Y/n noticed it too, confusion clouding his face. But as more of the mysterious substance was released into the air, he dropped to his knees, his vision blurring. Tony staggered and slumped against the kitchen counter, his eyes falling shut.
And then, everything went dark. The gas in the room caused both father and son to collapse, slumping to the floor hard.
Later, once Y/n regained consciousness, his head pounded as he tried to piece together what happened. The last thing he remembered was the argument with Tony in the kitchen, and then everything went dark. But now, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, dimly lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were made of rough concrete, and the floor was cold and hard beneath him.
"Y/n? Can you hear me?" Tony's voice, filled with concern, reached him, and he turned to see his father hovering nearby.
"Dad?" Y/n's throat was dry and scratchy as he tried to sit up, but dizziness forced him to lay back down. It's overwhelming.
Tony helped Y/n into a seated position against the concrete wall. "Easy there."
Y/n looked around. "Where are we?" 
"I'm not sure," Tony admitted, his gaze scanning the room for any clues. "But it appears that we have been kidnapped." 
Y/n's heart pounded in his chest as the reality of their situation sank in. Oh crap. He couldn't believe that they were in this predicament, but he didn’t know why he was completely surprised. Since he was a Stark, people have always attempted to kidnap him since the day he was born, but this was the first time someone had successfully managed to kidnap him. 
And he couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault. If only he hadn't argued with his dad, they wouldn't have been distracted when their captor struck.
"I'm sorry, Y/n," Tony apologized, his eyes filled with remorse, and Y/n was slightly taken aback because he hadn’t been expecting that. "I should have been there for you more. I let my work and my relationship with Peter overshadow our bond. That was wrong of me to do that."
Y/n eyes drifted to his hands, clasped in his lap. "You know, it hurt every time you chose Peter over me," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I don't understand why you always favor him. Why is everything he does amazing, but when it comes to me, you're never satisfied? Was it something that I did wrong? Or didn't do? Because I can change if it means you'll love me."
Tony shook his head vigorously, moving closer to his son. "No, Y/n. I don't want you to change for anyone, especially not for me. I can admit that I haven't always handled things perfectly. Peter reminds me of myself at his age, and sometimes I get caught up in my own nostalgia. But that doesn't mean I love you any less, Y/n. You're my son. I'd do anything for you."
Y/n's heart swelled at his father's words. He forgave Tony the moment the words "I'm sorry" exited his lips. Y/n had never been one to hold grudges, and now that Tony had acknowledged his mistakes, he hoped that they could finally move forward and rebuild their relationship.
Y/n wrapped his arms around Tony, who reciprocated the gesture. "I just want to spend more time with you," he muttered. "You know, do all that father-son stuff."
"And we will," Tony promised, pulling away. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll clear my schedule for the next month. We can go to the Bahamas. The water is beautiful, and I know they have amazing art exhibits there. It can be my birthday present to you. It'll be just the two of us."
It was impossible for Y/n to refrain from allowing the corners of his mouth to curl upward into a smile. He experienced a sense of optimism for the first time in a long time. As he looked into his father's eyes, he was certain that he would fulfill his promise. Y/n couldn't help but feel like a ten-year-old on Christmas morning.
"I'd like that, but how are we going to get out of here?" That was the big question.
Tony smirked. "Leave that to my team."
He informed Y/n through sign language that he had a secret tracker implanted in his watch, which had been confiscated. The Avengers were aware of the tracker, so it wouldn't be long before they arrived.
And then, as if on cue, the door to the room they were in flew off its hinges by a man getting thrown through it. Then, Steve walked into the room, dressed in his Captain America outfit. Steve threw his shield at the cell the Starks were in, allowing the two men to finally escape.
"Tony, Y/n, are you guys okay?" Steve walked over to them and started looking for signs of harm or injuries of any kind, but was relieved that he didn’t find one. 
"Just peachy," Tony assured the blonde, grabbing his watch from a nearby table and taking Y/n's arm. They rushed out of the building, with Steve leading the way.
As the three made their way out, Y/n heard the sounds of gunfire, screaming, and growling echoing in the air. The Hulk was in full force, dismantling one of the kidnappers, while the other Avengers fought alongside him. Steve sprang back into action, and Tony transformed his watch into an Iron Man glove, joining the fighting. Even Spider-Man was there, taking out multiple opponents with ease.
But in the chaos, Y/n spotted a gunman aiming at Spider-Man from a distance. Acting without hesitation, he pushed Spider-Man out of the way, taking the bullet meant for him. The gunshot tore through Y/n's stomach, and he fell to the ground, eyes widening in shock and pain.
Tony had just fired a beam of light from his repulsor, sending the man flying into the nearby truck. But as he did, he heard the crack of a gunshot. He looked over to see where the shot had come from.
And his heart dropped to his stomach.
Y/n had been shot.
The bullet had pierced Y/n’s stomach, and blood was already soaking through his shirt, dripping onto the ground below.
"No, Y/n!" Tony screamed, running over as Steve hurled his shield at the shooter. Tony caught Y/n just as he began to fall, blood seeping through Tony's fingers as he peeled off his jacket and pressed it against the wound. Y/n trembled in his arms, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
"D-Dad."
"I know, I know, it's going to be okay," he whispered, his voice thick and his eyes shone with unshed tears. "You're going to be okay, I promise." His jaw clenched as he peered over at his teammates who had finally finished their fight and were rushing over. "Get us to a hospital, now!"
They didn't need to be told twice. Steve moved forward and quickly helped Tony carry Y/n to the Quinjet, with the other Avengers following closely behind them. Once inside, Natasha took her place in the pilot seat and Clint sat in the co-pilot seat next to her. Natasha quickly turned on the controls and maneuvered the jet into the air above, racing to the hospital.
The Quinjet soared through the sky, the city a blur below. Inside, the atmosphere was filled with worry. Everyone watched as Iron Man tried to help his injured son. Tony refused to let go of Y/n, his hands shaking as he tried to stop the bleeding, mind racing with fear and desperation. He had faced countless dangers as Iron Man, but nothing compared to the fear he felt at the thought of losing his son. 
Finally, the Quinjet landed on the rooftop helipad of Metro-General Hospital, and Steve and Bruce rushed out, carrying Y/n on a stretcher. Tony was right beside him, keeping his hands clasped in Y/n’s. 
"We need a doctor, now!" Tony shouted as they burst through the hospital doors.
Immediately, a group of two doctors and two nurses came over, taking over Y/n's care and wheeling him away. And Tony was beside them, still holding his hand.
"What happened?" One of them asked.
"Some idiot shot him," Tony explained. 
The medical team wheeled Y/n into the operating room fast. The female nurse commented how Y/n had a weak pulse rate as the group of medical specialists lifted him onto the bed. Tony held onto his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. 
The male doctor assessed the situation, noticing a smaller entry wound in Y/n’s upper right back and a larger exit wound in his abdomen. "Lungs failing," he said, his voice steady but grave. "Start an I.V. — two units of O, stat." The female nurse hurried off to fulfill the order. The female doctor asked for adrenalin, and the male nurse rushed to comply with the request.
Tony stood by his son's side, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the doctor's work. He couldn't remember a time he prayed, but he found himself silently pleading with any higher power that might be listening to spare his son's life. "Hang in there, son," he whispered.
Y/n struggled to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t think I’ll make it."
The billionaire's heart broke a little more. "Don't you dare die on me." Tony's voice was borderline pleading, begging for his son not to leave him. He has to survive.
But as the doctors worked frantically to save Y/n's life, his condition continued to deteriorate, his grip on Tony's hand weakening. "Dad," Y/n whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so cold."
Hearing this, Tony couldn't hold back his tears, which fell onto his son's hand. "I-I-I can't feel my legs," he continued, making Tony feel an enormous sense of dread and despair. He wanted to leave, unable to continue witnessing his greatest fear unfolding before his eyes. However, Y/n gripped Tony's hand tightly. "D-Don't go." Their eyes met, and Y/n let out a gasp before managing to utter three words.
"I love you."
The heart monitor's steady beep began to slow, then faltered, finally falling silent as Y/n slipped into full arrest. Tony cried out, "Oh god." His hand clamped over his mouth as he watched his son flatlined.
"Full arrest. Paddles!" The male doctor shouted, and the female doctor brought over the paddle machine. Tony stepped back as he witnessed the scene unfold. The lady squirted gel on a paddle, and the male rubbed them together. "Clear!" He yelled and used the paddles on Y/n. 
But it didn't work.
"Recharge," he barked, and she obeyed. "Clear!" He used the paddles once again.
Still, Y/n’s heart did not respond and the heart monitor remained silent. His grip fully weakened in Tony’s hand, and his eyes remained unmoving. Sadly, it was officially. Y/n, son of the billionaire, was dead. The male doctor looked at Tony with a mix of sympathy and sadness.
"I’m so sorry," the male doctor voiced. 
And, just like that, Tony Stark broke. 
He leaned over Y/n, his body heavy with grief, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his son's lifeless hand. The pain in his chest was unbearable as if his own heart had stopped beating. He couldn't believe his only child was gone.
Now, he would never witness his son's college graduation, celebrate another birthday, see him walk down the aisle, or become a dad himself. Y/n was gone, and Tony would never see his son again.
And Tony felt like he had died too.
His sobs echoed through the hospital room, a sound so full of anger and pain that it seemed to pierce the very air. The doctors and nurses quietly left the room, deciding to let the genius grieve alone.
"Y/n," he choked out, his voice breaking on his son's name. "Please... come back. I can't… I can't live life without you here."
But he knew that his son wasn't coming back, no matter how much he'd beg for it. That thought was unimaginable, a nightmare from which he couldn't wake.
He had failed his son, failed to keep him safe, and now, Tony was forced to face a world without the h/c haired male in it. 
It was bad enough that the genius had been such a shitty dad to choose Peter over Y/n, but now he wouldn’t be able to show Y/n that he was fully committed to changing, to being the dad Y/n deserved.
That made his sobs grow louder.
The Avengers entered the room, their faces etched with sorrow. Each of them had faced countless battles, but nothing could have prepared them for the pain of watching one of their own lose a child.
Steve placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort for his friend. He knew that no words could ease the pain of such a loss, but he hoped that his presence would offer some solace. He took a moment to say a silent prayer for the man who was like a son to him.
Natasha's stoic expression cracked, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She had seen death countless times in her work, but this — this was different. This was one of their own, a part of their family.
Sam also couldn't hold back his tears. His vision blurred, and he wiped them away, not wanting to add to Tony's pain. But the pain was there, a dull ache in his chest that echoed the grief of his friend.
Clint had to look away, his jaw clenched. He had lost people before, but this was different. This was a young man, full of life, who left this cruel world too soon.
Bruce stood with his hands clasped in front of him. His eyes were downcast, but there was a hint of green in his eyes. He couldn't imagine the pain of losing a child, especially someone so wonderful. 
Peter was the most visibly shaken and he felt somewhat responsible. If he had been more aware of his surroundings and saw the hidden shooter, then Y/n wouldn't have taken the bullet for him.
Parents shouldn’t have to bury their child, but Tony was going to bury his.
Tony's fingers trembled as he closed Y/n's eyes. "I’m sorry, son," his voice was a broken whisper. "I love you so, so much."
For Y/n, the light had gone out. For Tony, the darkness has never felt so complete.
XXXXX XXXXX
944 notes · View notes
amethystarachnid · 2 months ago
Note
Can you write for me Amnesia trope from Marvel Bingo with Tony/Fem reader? Tony is a little injured after a mission and he loses his memory, when reader is going to see him (wife or girlfriend) he won't recognize her but he'll immediately fall for her all over again 🥺 she thinks it's absolutely cute that he didn't recognize her but soon he'll recover his memory and blush so hard when reader shows him his videos of him all smitten by her hahahaha ❤️ and Tony saying he'll alwyas fall for her 🥺 (some spicy kisse maybe?)
ALWAYS
⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK
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ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader
ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff
ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo
ᯓ★ Story type: one shot
ᯓ★ Word count: 5.4k
ᯓ★ Summary: Because of an injury Tony temporarily loses his memories of you, his wife, and you're determined to make him gain them back. Do you really need to do so when he has already fallen back in love with you?
ᯓ★ TW(s): memory loss and clingy Tony
ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)
ᯓ★ My Masterlist
ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!
ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)
ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo
ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language
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The beeping. It’s the first thing you notice when you step into the hospital room—the insistent, steady beep of the heart monitor that Tony’s hooked up to. It’s steady, strong, and for that, you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The smell of antiseptic stings your nose, reminding you that, despite Tony's resilience, he's as vulnerable as any of them in situations like these.
The mission had gone wrong in ways you didn’t see coming. Stark Industries had developed tech that a rival group decided they wanted to “borrow”—forcefully. What was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a messy firefight. But, like always, Tony had pushed you to evacuate, promising he’d be right behind you. Instead, an explosion threw him from his suit, leaving him vulnerable to the final assault. He had barely gotten out before going down hard.
Now, you’re here, nerves raw and trembling as you hover by the doorway, watching him.
Tony is sitting up, but he seems…distant. Disoriented, maybe. His eyes are half-lidded, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s trying to make sense of something in the middle distance. It’s unnerving because you’re used to a Tony whose attention burns, even when he’s exhausted, half-buried in his lab, or just waking up. He sees everything.
But not this time. And for some reason, he doesn’t see you.
“Mrs. Stark?”
You turn as the doctor enters, offering you a sympathetic look. It’s a look that’s meant to ease you into news you know you don’t want to hear.
“Is he…awake?”
The doctor nods, gesturing you toward the chair by Tony’s bed. “He’s stable. His vitals are strong. The issue, Mrs. Stark, is that there appears to be some level of memory loss.”
The words clang in your ears, foreign and cold, completely out of place in the world you’ve built with Tony. “What do you mean by ‘memory loss’?”
She sighs, glancing at Tony before she speaks. “Memory loss is complicated. From what I’ve gathered, Mr. Stark has retained his long-term memories and most of his professional knowledge. But, due to the trauma and subsequent disorientation, there’s a block on more recent events…particularly in his personal life.”
Your stomach drops, and you take a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He doesn’t remember me, does he?”
“I’m afraid not,” she says softly. “In many cases, memories return with time and familiar cues. Given Mr. Stark’s particular cognitive resilience, I have high hopes for recovery. But until then, he may…struggle with recognition and personal connections.”
You nod slowly, trying to take it all in. In all the battles, the missions, the threats, this is somehow scarier. Because it’s not just his body that’s wounded; it’s your life together that’s fractured.
When the doctor leaves, you take a step forward, but your feet feel leaden, hesitant. And for once, you don’t know what to say. This isn’t just Tony after a rough mission. This is your husband, and he doesn’t know you.
Finally, you muster the courage and approach the bed, offering him a soft, tentative smile. “Hey there, stranger.”
He looks up, his gaze sharp but confused, and something in his eyes flickers with a shade of recognition—a spark that leaves you hoping. But then he blinks, and it’s gone.
“Do I, uh, know you?” His tone is polite, curious, but there’s a guardedness to it, as if he’s unsure if he’s supposed to recognize you. You don’t miss the way his eyes dart over you, taking you in, and a pang of sadness tugs at your heart as you realize he’s assessing you the way he might a stranger.
You laugh softly, forcing down the lump in your throat. “You could say that. I’m…” You hesitate, wondering if it’s too much to say it outright, but the words slip out before you can stop them. “I’m your wife.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and he stares at you, stunned. “My wife?”
“Yes.” You smile, more gently this time, as though that will ease him into the idea. “For almost three years now.”
Tony blinks, and you can see his mind racing, struggling to process this unexpected piece of information. He gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I…you’re telling me I’m married to you?”
His shock is genuine, and for a moment, a bubble of laughter escapes you. It’s that classic Tony Stark reaction—equal parts disbelief and awe, as if he can’t quite believe his good luck.
“Yes,” you say again, and this time, there’s a hint of amusement in your voice. “You managed to convince me somehow.”
He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin that’s both endearing and achingly familiar. “Wow. I must be one hell of a salesman.”
“Oh, you are.” The laughter fades from your voice as you take a step closer, unable to resist the need to be nearer to him, even if he doesn’t remember you right now. “You’re the best.”
For a moment, he studies you, his gaze flickering with something like curiosity, maybe even admiration. It’s a glimmer of the old Tony, the man who made you feel like the only person in the room, no matter the crowd or chaos. But here, with him looking at you as a stranger might, there’s something raw and beautiful about it, too. He’s falling in love with you all over again, right in front of your eyes.
“Well, I guess I should feel lucky,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “If you’re half as amazing as you look, then…yeah. Lucky guy.”
The words make your heart flutter, and despite everything, you feel a warmth spread through you, easing the tightness in your chest. He’s still Tony, even if he doesn’t know it yet.
“Want to know a little about us?” you ask, hoping that maybe, somehow, it will trigger something—some hidden memory or spark of recognition.
He nods, settling back against the pillow. “Please. Enlighten me. I’m curious how a guy like me managed to marry someone like you.”
“Well,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you pull up a chair beside him. “For starters, we didn’t exactly get along at first.”
“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Did I say something to offend you?”
“You…may have.” You grin, remembering the banter, the stubborn disagreements, the sparks that seemed to ignite every time you were in a room together. “You were cocky, stubborn, a little arrogant.”
He chuckles. “That sounds about right.”
“But somehow,” you continue, your voice softening, “you managed to break down all my walls. You made me feel like I was the only person who mattered, even if you acted like you were just being yourself.”
His gaze lingers on you, and there’s a warmth there, something cautious but undeniably present. “I’m sorry I don’t remember that.”
“Don’t be.” You place a gentle hand over his, feeling the faint warmth of his skin against yours. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve done a thousand times before, but this time, it feels different—new, almost shy. “You’ll remember. And until you do, we’ll make new memories. Starting right now.”
He looks down at your hand on his, and you can see the faintest flush of color in his cheeks. For a man who’s usually so sure of himself, so confident in every move he makes, it’s endearing to see him look almost…nervous.
“So, tell me more about this…our life,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s trying to hold onto the pieces he has left.
“Well,” you say, smiling as you think of the little things that make up your life together. “We spend a lot of time in the lab together, actually. Even if you’re always tinkering, working on some new project, you always have time for me.”
“Do I? Sounds like a good husband.” There’s a touch of pride in his voice, and it makes your heart ache a little—because he doesn’t even know the half of it yet.
“A very good husband,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with all the love you feel for him. “The best.”
And there it is—that flicker in his eyes, like he’s starting to see it, to feel it. It’s as if, for just a moment, he knows you, feels that connection.
“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “For being here. For…all of this.”
You squeeze his hand gently, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. “You’re my husband, Tony. I’d do anything for you.”
And as you sit there, hands entwined, you realize that even if he has to fall in love with you all over again, you’ll be right here, waiting.
The drive back from the hospital is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Tony stares out the window, taking in the blur of city lights as you weave through the streets toward your shared home. Occasionally, you catch him glancing at you, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief, as if he’s still wrapping his head around the idea that you’re his wife, that he’s returning to a life he doesn’t remember but that he somehow…wants.
When you finally pull into the long driveway leading up to your home, his eyebrows shoot up. Stark Tower looms ahead, its sleek, modern design stark against the night sky. The iconic "STARK" sign gleams with familiar grandeur. He lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes, too—something like pride.
“So, this is…our place?” he asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.
You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Well, your place, technically. But I’ve definitely made it my own.”
Tony chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you’re reminded of all the times he’s teased you about “taking over” his tower with touches of your personality: the cozy reading nook in his office, the garden on the roof you insisted on installing, even the art pieces scattered throughout the building. And despite his teasing, he’d always seemed proud of how much of yourself you’d poured into his space.
“Well,” he says, stepping out of the car, “if you’re half as great at interior design as you are at, uh, marrying billionaires, I think I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
“Oh, just you wait,” you say with a playful smirk as you lead him inside.
The entryway is a testament to the sleek, modern style Tony’s known for—polished floors, clean lines, an air of sophistication mixed with warmth. But there are little touches here and there that mark it as your home too: framed photos from the missions you’ve tackled together, a throw blanket draped over the couch, even a small shelf of books beside the entrance to the main living area.
Tony follows you, his gaze flitting over each detail with that trademark Stark intensity, taking it all in as if he’s studying a new project. When his eyes land on a photo of the two of you at a beach, he pauses. You remember that day so vividly: you were laughing, caught in a candid moment as he held you close, your hair whipped by the wind.
“Is that…us?” he asks, a softness in his voice that tugs at your heart.
“Yeah,” you say, stepping closer to him. “A couple of years ago. We were on a vacation you forced me to take.”
“I forced you?” he repeats, quirking an eyebrow. “Was I…was I that difficult?”
“Only a little,” you tease, nudging him gently. “You hated the idea of not working for a few days. But we made the best of it.”
His lips curve into a small smile as he stares at the photo a moment longer before turning his gaze back to you. “I look…happy. Really happy.”
“You were,” you say softly. “We both were.”
He swallows, his gaze lingering on you, and for a moment, you can almost feel the weight of all the memories he’s lost. But there’s a warmth in his eyes, a flicker of something that feels like a connection—even if it’s new to him.
You clear your throat and gesture toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”
You lead him down the hall, pointing out the various rooms, each one filled with a mix of his tech and your touches: the library with shelves overflowing with both your favorite books, the small lounge you use for watching movies together, and finally, your bedroom.
When you open the door, he stands in the doorway, taking it in. The room is a blend of Tony’s sophisticated taste and your own comfortable style, the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the neatly made bed, the nightstand stacked with a few of Tony’s reading materials, and the little tray of lotions and skincare items you keep on your side.
“This…feels nice,” he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over the room. He takes a step inside, running a hand over the bedspread, almost as if testing its texture. “I don’t know why, but I feel…calm here.”
You smile, moving to stand beside him. “It’s our space. Your favorite spot after a long day, whether you’d admit it or not. You always said it’s the one place that lets you truly relax.”
He chuckles, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah, well, if you say so. I…believe you.”
For a moment, there’s silence, and you can feel the weight of the day settling over both of you. He’s exhausted, and so are you.
“Do you…want to rest?” you ask, realizing he might be overwhelmed with all of this new information.
“Actually, I think I’d like to keep looking around,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I just…don’t want to miss anything. It feels like I’ve lost a huge chunk of my life, and I want to piece it together, however I can.”
You nod, understanding. You feel a pang of sadness but try to hide it. “Well, I’ll be here. We can take it slow. One room at a time.”
Together, you move back down the hallway, stopping in the kitchen next. Tony’s gaze catches on the coffee maker, and he raises his eyebrows with a look of genuine excitement. “Please tell me I still drink coffee.”
You laugh, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Oh, you drink enough coffee to fuel a small army. In fact…” You open a cabinet, revealing an impressive array of coffee beans, grounds, and Tony’s prized espresso machine. “You’re particular about it. You like to experiment.”
He nods, visibly impressed. “I see I have good taste. I’d like to think I’m a genius when it comes to coffee.”
“Among other things,” you reply, grinning as you start to brew a fresh pot, the familiar hum of the machine filling the room.
As the coffee brews, Tony leans against the counter, watching you with that spark of interest you remember so well. But now, it feels new, raw, as if he’s falling for you all over again and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.
“So,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes, “you said we didn’t get along at first. How did I change your mind?”
You chuckle, handing him a mug and savoring the warmth as you lean back against the counter beside him. “It wasn’t any one thing. You…surprised me. I kept expecting you to be this arrogant genius with no time for anyone, but then you started showing up at my door with random inventions, making coffee runs at three a.m. with me, and bringing me little gifts from your travels.” You smile, remembering each moment as if it’s engraved in your memory. “You just…wore me down, I guess.”
He takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over your words, and you see the warmth in his expression, a flicker of understanding, even if it’s only a shadow of his former self.
“Well, then,” he says, his tone soft, “I’m glad I wore you down.”
His words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, the kitchen feels smaller, more intimate, filled with a sense of closeness that’s been there since the moment you met but now feels refreshingly new.
Tony shifts his weight, looking suddenly unsure. “So…do I get to sleep in our bed tonight?”
You raise an eyebrow, smiling a little as you nod. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
As you walk back to the bedroom together, side by side, you feel a quiet sense of peace settle over you. Tony might not remember you—at least not yet—but he’s here, and he’s yours, and somehow, you’ll find a way to rebuild together.
You slip into bed, settling under the covers, and Tony follows suit, lying beside you with a soft sigh. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches over, his hand brushing against yours beneath the covers. You entwine your fingers with his, and even though he doesn’t remember the countless nights you’ve fallen asleep like this, it feels natural.
“Goodnight,” he whispers, his voice soft.
“Goodnight, Tony,” you murmur back, your heart swelling with hope.
As the city lights outside cast a gentle glow across the room, you lie there, hand in hand, feeling the warmth of him beside you. And for the first time since the accident, you feel a flicker of reassurance.
The days start to blur together in a rhythm that feels both familiar and new. Tony’s memory isn’t coming back all at once, but he’s recovering it in little flashes, bits and pieces of who he used to be, of who you are to each other. And even though some of these memories are fleeting, almost insignificant, they build something solid between you—something that’s real and growing stronger with every passing moment.
It begins with breakfast one morning.
You’re standing at the stove, cooking eggs and listening to Tony talk about his latest gadget idea. He’s been getting back into work, tinkering here and there in the lab, and he always comes out in the morning with some grand plan or concept. It’s one of the things you’ve missed most—his enthusiasm, his endless curiosity, the way he lights up when he talks about creating something new. You smile, flipping the eggs onto plates and setting them on the counter.
“You know, I don’t think I ever realized how much you put up with me,” he says, leaning against the counter with that lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “All my late nights, random ideas, and, uh, probably a few accidental explosions.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes as you hand him his plate. “Oh, trust me, I’ve put up with plenty. But you make it worth it.”
He takes a bite, nodding as though savoring the taste. “You know…this feels familiar,” he says after a moment, frowning slightly. “Mornings like this. I used to sit here and watch you cook, didn’t I?”
“Every morning you didn’t have your face buried in a new project,” you reply softly, watching him carefully.
He pauses, that spark of recognition in his eyes growing, as if he’s trying to hold onto the memory, to make it solid. And then he’s looking at you, really looking at you, with a tenderness that feels almost shy. It’s a vulnerability you rarely see from Tony, and it makes your heart ache in the best way.
“I think I remember something else,” he murmurs, stepping around the counter to stand in front of you. “I remember sitting here and…thinking about how lucky I was.”
Your breath catches as he reaches out, his fingers grazing your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw. His touch is tentative, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
“Tony…” you whisper, feeling your pulse quicken.
He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss that’s both familiar and electrifying, like he’s rediscovering you for the first time. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his mouth moves against yours, slow and intense, like he’s savoring every second. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker, filled with something that looks like a mix of wonder and awe.
“I don’t remember everything,” he says softly, his voice rough, “but I don’t think I need to. This feels right.”
You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “It is right,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him again.
The memory flashes continue over the next few days, each one bringing him closer to the person he used to be. They’re small, fleeting things—a song that triggers a faint memory of a dance in the living room, the scent of his cologne reminding him of the night you first told him you loved him. Each one brings with it a sense of déjà vu, a feeling that tugs at his heart and pulls him closer to you.
One evening, you’re both sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you watch a movie together. It’s an old favorite, something you’ve watched countless times, and Tony seems to relax into the familiarity of it. His hand absentmindedly traces patterns on your thigh, and you can feel his warmth, his closeness, and it makes you feel grounded, steady.
Suddenly, he chuckles, looking down at your legs. “I remember this. You used to do this all the time. You’d kick off your shoes and practically sprawl across the couch.”
You laugh, nudging him playfully. “And you used to pretend to be annoyed, even though you secretly loved it.”
He raises an eyebrow, that playful smirk you know so well tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’m sure I did.”
You shift, leaning closer to him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, his eyes filled with both affection and curiosity, that makes you feel bold, like you’re rediscovering each other in a way that’s fresh and exhilarating.
“Can I tell you something?” you murmur, your voice soft.
“Anything,” he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.
“When we first met, I thought you were this…impossible genius with no time for anyone,” you confess, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “But then you’d look at me like this, with this softness, like I was the only person in the world.”
He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe you are.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, capturing you in a kiss that’s anything but shy. It’s slow and deep, his hands sliding up your back as he pulls you into him, your bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly. His kisses are gentle yet intense, each one leaving you breathless, as if he’s trying to make up for all the lost time, all the memories he doesn’t yet have but that you both feel so deeply.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavily, hearts racing. He smiles, that teasing glint in his eyes as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Why do I feel like I’ve kissed you a million times?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “Like I can’t get enough?”
“Maybe because you have,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “And I’ll never get enough of you, either.”
He chuckles, a sound that’s warm and filled with affection as he kisses you again, softer this time, more lingering, like he’s savoring every second. His lips move slowly over yours, his hands gentle as they cradle your face, as if he’s memorizing the feel of you, the way you fit together.
Over the next few days, the memories come more frequently, little fragments of your life that make him pause, that bring a flicker of recognition to his eyes. Sometimes it’s just a look he gives you, a soft smile that feels so familiar it makes your heart ache. Other times, it’s a touch—a hand on your back, a gentle brush of his fingers against yours—that reminds you of all the little ways he’s shown his love over the years.
And every time he remembers something, he falls in love with you a little more.
One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you reach over to turn off the light, but Tony stops you, his hand catching yours. He turns to you, his gaze soft but intense, filled with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.
“I might not remember everything yet,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing your cheek, “but I know that I love you. I don’t need memories to know that.”
You feel a lump in your throat, a warmth spreading through you that’s both comforting and thrilling. “I love you, too, Tony,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his hand. “No matter what. I always have, and I always will.”
His smile is tender, filled with a gratitude that makes you realize just how lucky you both are, how strong this connection is between you. He leans in, kissing you with a softness that melts away all the uncertainty, all the fear that’s lingered since the accident.
And as you lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this isn’t just a return to the life you had before. It’s something new, something deeper and more meaningful, a love that’s growing stronger every day. It’s a love that doesn’t need memories to survive because it’s written into every touch, every glance, every kiss you share.
The morning Tony’s memories come flooding back, it feels both surreal and inevitable. He wakes up beside you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling for a long moment before he turns to look at you, his expression a mixture of wonder, relief, and something deeper—something vulnerable. When he speaks, his voice is low, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell.
“I remember everything,” he murmurs, his hand finding yours beneath the covers. His thumb traces gentle patterns on your knuckles, as though he’s grounding himself in the reality of the present. “Every detail, every moment. I remember…you.”
You blink away the tears that threaten to spill over, smiling as you reach up to cup his face. “You’re really back,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I missed you.”
He gives a soft laugh, his hand covering yours as he presses his forehead to yours. “You never really lost me, you know? And I… I missed you, too. Even when I didn’t remember all of it, I knew. I knew you were everything to me. I'd always fall for you.”
You fall into his arms, both of you holding each other tightly, like you’re afraid to let go. And in that embrace, you feel the weight of all those lost days lift, leaving only a warmth that radiates between you. He’s here, fully, and the two of you are whole again.
Later, you’re curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you cuddle into his side. You’ve both been talking, recounting memories, laughing at the more amusing fragments that came back to him in flashes. And then, an idea strikes you.
“Tony,” you say, glancing up at him with a mischievous grin, “there’s something you need to see.”
He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, really? And what might that be?”
You grab your phone from the coffee table, pulling up a series of videos you took during his days without memories. Each one holds moments that, at the time, you’d been scared would be all you had left—little fragments of his affection, of the new ways he showed his love for you while he was rediscovering himself.
“Brace yourself,” you say, hitting play on the first video.
In it, Tony is sitting across from you at the kitchen table, his eyes sleepy and his hair a mess. He’s holding a mug of coffee, and he looks up at you with the softest, most adoring expression, blinking slowly like he can barely believe you’re real. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his voice a murmur, his gaze fixed on you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world. “How did I get so lucky?”
The Tony beside you lets out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that…well, cuddly before.”
“Oh, that’s just the beginning,” you say, grinning as you play the next video.
This one shows him lying on the couch, his head in your lap as you’re reading a book. He’s practically burrowed into you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried against your stomach. Every now and then, he looks up at you with these wide, affectionate eyes, and even without memories, he’s the picture of absolute adoration.
“Is that…me?” Tony asks, a touch of disbelief in his voice as he watches himself look up at you like that. “I’m like a…like a giant puppy.”
“Oh, you were,” you laugh, rubbing his arm affectionately. “I have so many videos like this. You’d barely let me out of your sight. I think losing your memories made you even clingier.”
He snorts, shaking his head as he pulls you closer. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at you. Not remembering you was bad enough—I guess I was just making sure I didn’t forget you again.”
The next video is of him in bed, lying half-asleep with his arm stretched out, reaching for you. His voice, groggy and low, calls your name softly, and you hear yourself laugh from behind the camera as you step into view. When you do, he pulls you into the bed, wrapping his arms around you like he never wants to let go. He sighs in contentment, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring something unintelligible, and even watching it now, you feel that familiar warmth spread through your chest.
Tony, watching beside you, is silent for a long moment, his gaze softened as he watches himself cling to you like that. When the video ends, he turns to you, a tenderness in his expression that takes your breath away.
“I can’t believe I didn’t remember you,” he whispers, his fingers brushing your cheek. “But even when I couldn’t…I needed you.”
You place a hand over his, smiling softly. “I think a part of you did remember, in a way. You were still you—maybe a little cuddlier than usual,” you tease, “but you were still you.”
His lips curve into a playful grin. “So, I was clingy, huh? Was I any good at it?”
“Oh, you were very good at it,” you say, laughter bubbling up. “I mean, I kind of got used to waking up with you practically draped over me. I’m almost going to miss it.”
His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Well, if you liked clingy Tony, I think I can accommodate,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he tightens his hold on you.
You giggle, curling your arms around his neck as he presses a series of soft, lingering kisses along your jaw. “Mmm, maybe I did like clingy Tony,” you whisper, your fingers threading through his hair.
He chuckles, his lips trailing down to your neck, his hands running up and down your sides as he nuzzles into you, his warmth enveloping you. “Well then, Mrs. Stark, it looks like you’re in luck.”
His mouth finds yours, and he kisses you deeply, his hands gentle but insistent as he pulls you closer. The kiss is soft and tender, but there’s an intensity to it, a passion that feels even stronger now that he has all his memories back. It’s like he’s making up for lost time, savoring every second, every touch, every shared breath.
When he pulls back, he leans his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t think I could ever let you go again,” he says, his hands sliding to your waist as he holds you close. “Every second without you felt…wrong, somehow. Now that I know everything, it’s like my whole world is back.”
You smile, brushing your fingers along his jaw as you gaze into his eyes. “Then don’t let go,” you whisper, your heart racing as he closes the small distance between you again, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s both familiar and exhilarating.
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soft Tony is just a baby <3 if you liked the story leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!
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vikwrites · 9 months ago
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Playboy - Tony Stark
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Summary ➣ Tony Stark invites you into his Rolls Royce. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 2.5k words Warnings ➣ 18+ / Car Sex / Power Imbalance / Age Gap. Author's Notes ➣ The first full Tony Stark oneshot! Comments are highly appreciated <3 Requests are also open!
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You didn’t know exactly how you ended up here. 
The events leading up to your current situation were a blur, like trying to see through thick fog. 
Here you were, seated in the plush backseat of Tony Stark's lavish Rolls Royce Phantom. A variety of crystal glasses in all shapes and sizes were scattered haphazardly, some full, most empty. The rich aroma of Macallan 1926 filled the air. A bottle had been tipped on its side, its deep tones spilling onto the seat and seeping into a crevice of the leather, leaving behind a multitude of stains, You wonder how many times Tony had to pay someone to clean up these messes.
The past few hours were a hazy mix of neon lights and blaring speakers, the repercussions of Shoot to Thrill by AC/DC filling your ears.  
Then you recalled that Tony had spotted you at Stark Expo, at the Arc Reactor exhibit, standing in front of the machine, mesmerized by the pulsing reactor and the hypnotic hum that filled the room. 
Tony had made the first approach and talked to you for a while, although most of the conversation consisted of you awkwardly sucking up to him, while another part of you was afraid of saying something embarrassing or coming off as too eager.
You never thought you'd be graced with the opportunity to even be in the same room as Tony Stark, let alone talk to him face-to-face. But as the conversation went on, you felt more and more intimidated. You had always admired Tony and maybe even had a bit of a crush on him, but now that he was standing in front of you, you didn't know what to say or do. 
However, when you were invited to his limousine, you couldn't resist. He had lured you in like a moth into flame. 
The air was thick with tension, your fingers found themselves subconsciously fidgeting, you were sitting mere inches away from Tony after all; who was currently fiddling with a Cuban cigar. Your heart raced with a cocktail of excitement and fear - after all, this was the Tony Stark, one of the most influential figures in the world, and you were just a mere woman-in-the-street. This man probably had more money in his wallet than you’d ever have in your entire life. 
Tony seemed to have picked up on your nervousness, reaching over to the mini-fridge and picking up another bottle of liquid courage. The cigar had found its way in his mouth, and is currently hanging from his lips.
“Mr Stark—” You stuttered, trying to reach for the rear-hinged doors of the car, “I’d think it would be best if I left, it’s getting late.” 
“Relax, honey.” As Tony's hand unexpectedly settled on your wrist, pulling you back, the sudden weight caught you off guard. You couldn't help but flinch when you felt his fingers close around your wrist. His touch gentle yet assertive, a delicate balance that leaves you feeling conflicted. He takes another drag of the cigar.
Internally, you battled with conflicting emotions, but externally, you remained still as his hand steadily guided another crystal glass into your grasp, the weight of the cold drink dragging you back to reality. Initially you wanted to refuse, but you didn’t want to let Stark down, or seem ungrateful—downing the whiskey, you felt the liquid burn your throat.
His hand on yours caused a weighty pause in your conversation, Tony smirked, finding it amusing how tense he made you. Eventually, he breaks the silence by redirecting the conversation towards you. "So, tell me about yourself," he prompts, his tone casual and easy. Another cigar made its way into his mouth. 
You took a moment to recollect your thoughts before answering. "I'm studying at MIT," you replied, "I'm pursuing my degree in Nuclear Engineering." As soon as the words leave your lips, you notice Stark raise an eyebrow in surprise, seemingly impressed by the mention of your alma mater.  
Tony leans back in his seat and exclaims, "Impressive, I’m going to assume I’ve probably funded one of your projects, you’ve been to the September Foundation Grant presentation right?" He turns to look at you, as if trying to make a connection. You nod and continue to take small sips of your Macallan whiskey. 
After a few more rounds, you found yourself becoming less tense around him. 
“—and he’s now the forehead of security, get it?” Tony giggled, clapping his hands at his own joke, his laughter was infectious, and you found yourself laughing along with him, feeling a sense of camaraderie that you hadn't experienced in a long time. He takes another puff of the cigar, attempting to blow smoke rings but failing horrifically, the supposedly circular puffs of smoke coming out in flattened, unidentifiable shapes.
"Mr. Stark-" you began, but were quickly cut off by the man himself.
"Please, dear," Stark offered with a shake of his head, "just call me Tony."
You took a deep breath, trying to muster up courage (as much courage as you could get while being mildly to severely intoxicated, you couldn’t tell at this point), and corrected yourself. "Tony," you said firmly, hoping to sound more confident than you felt. "Why did you invite me here?" The question hung in the air amongst the clouds of smoke.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Tony raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I think you’re cute.” 
Your heart skipped a beat at his bold statement. Did Tony Stark really just say that to you?
“Fuck, Tony Stark thinks I’m cute, never expected that, ever.” But before you could fully process the unexpected compliment, another thought crossed your mind. “Looking past the obvious," you continued, "why isn’t there some Playboy supermodel in my position? Aren’t you just slumming it?” 
“Your expectations of me are too high, darling,” Tony drawled, his voice dripping with charm and confidence. “Honestly, I’d call Playboy right now and make you a model right away. You’ve got the face for it,” he paused to rake his eyes over your body, biting his lip, “—and the bod.” 
A rush of heat spread through your body at his words, igniting a spark of desire that you couldn't deny. The atmosphere became charged with tension, but this time, in a good way. The constant pet names and lingering gazes from Tony were stirring you up, and you could feel something else crackling in the air between you two.
You wouldn't say no to his advances, not when his gaze was so intense and his touch so electric. After all, who would say no to Tony Stark? His smooth words and charming smile were enough to make any woman weak at the knees, and you were no exception.
“I just think that you could do better.” You muttered, all the confidence draining from you the moment he tries to make a move, you cursed yourself for it. 
“Quit being self conscious and just kiss me.” Tony's words were like a soothing balm to your inner turmoil, urging you to let go of your self-consciousness and just give in to the moment. As he leaned in, his lips met yours in a swift motion that caught you off guard. 
Your hands instinctively found their way to his cheek, pulling him closer to you as you melted into his embrace. While his hands grabbed at your hair, caging you in between his body and the leather seat. The taste of his lips and the warmth of his body enveloped you, drowning out the nagging voice in your head reminding you of all the reasons why this could be a mistake. Tony moaned into your mouth, you took a mental recording of that, hoping to replay it in your head later.
In this moment, nothing else mattered except for the feel of his touch and the heat that pulsed between the two of you. You surrender yourself completely, allowing yourself to be swept away by his kiss.
The cigar was carelessly discarded from his trembling hands, the smoke swirling in lazy wisps around the ash urn. The taste of tobacco still lingered on his lips, a bittersweet reminder of his vice. Your senses were heightened as you pulled away from the kiss, your hair tousled and wild from the frenzied grabbing. The two of you shared round after round of kisses, each one more desperate and passionate than the last till Tony decided to go further.
Tony pushed you down onto the seat, his movements were rough and uncoordinated, but it only added to the thrill. Your body responded to his manhandling, and you could feel yourself getting turned on. You laid horizontally on the car's leather seats, taking in the sight of stars twinkling on the headlining, but your attention was quickly diverted as Tony's lips crashed onto yours once again.
"You look so good underneath me, baby." he whispered in that seductive low tone of his, his mouth mere millimetres from your ear. The warmth of his breath sent shivers down your spine and each vibration of his words seemed to make you even wetter. 
Your breath hitched in surprise as Tony's hand traveled down to your core, his fingers grazing the hem of your dress and revealing more of your skin. You were startled by the sudden move but couldn't deny the heat that pooled between your legs. His touch was tentative, tracing circles over your clothed clit with a slow, teasing stroke. Your moans grew louder as he continued, each touch feeling foreign yet undeniably pleasurable.
"F—Fuck," you gasped as his piercing gaze met yours, those maroon eyes no longer their gentle brown hue.
"God, you're so wet for me," Tony's eyes locked onto yours as he brought his glistening finger to his mouth, savouring the taste with a low moan. Just the sight of it nearly sent you over the edge. "And you taste even better." Your eyes rolled back at his declaration, you’re so close and he hasn’t even started yet. 
Your fingers trembled as they reached for the button of Tony's Tom-Ford dress pants, fumbling with it in a desperate frenzy. In this moment, your entire existence seemed to depend on getting his pants off and feeling his naked skin against yours. Tony's hands were still on your clit, his skilled fingers teasing you mercilessly.
You could barely focus on unbuttoning his pants as he brought you closer and closer to the edge with just two fingers, god he was good. Every touch from him felt like electricity pulsing through your body, igniting every nerve ending and making you forget everything else except for the pleasure he was giving you.
"Please, Tony," you pleaded, your voice breathless and desperate. Your body quivered as two fingers slipped into your slick pussy, the wet sounds echoing in the confined space of the car.
At first, Tony's movements were slow and deliberate, teasing and tempting every inch of your sensitive walls. But he knew how to push all your buttons and soon, you were clenching around his fingers, begging for more.
"I'm gonna come," you gasped out, feeling your orgasm building with each thrust of his fingers.
"Come for me, baby,” Tony growled lowly, his voice making you even more wet. "I wanna see you falling apart on just my fingers." And with those words, you unravelled in a mind-blowing climax, your body trembling and shaking against his skilled touch.
As you came down from your high, you felt a new sensation. You realized you had squirted all over the interior of the car, but at that moment, you didn't care. All that mattered was how good Tony made you feel.
You were dazed and lost in the haze of pleasure when you felt him shuffling over you. His pants were unbuttoned and his cock was in his hand, slowly stroking as he took in the sight before him: your flushed skin, your heaving chest, and the evidence of your pleasure coating the seat beneath you.
You let out a soft gasp as he playfully teases you, running his member along your slit. With regained control over your limbs, your hands find their way into his once-slicked back, now ruffled hair. Your legs lock behind his lower back, pulling him closer to you in an attempt to deepen the connection between you two.
His voice is low and husky as he groans, "Your tight pussy feels so good, darling." As he pushes into you, you feel a fullness that you've never experienced before. The initial sting of pain quickly gives way to a deep pleasure that radiates through your entire body.
"Fuck, I love you, Tony." The words escape your lips before you even have time to register them. The intensity of the moment sparking a declaration that surprises even yourself. But before you can worry about whether it was too soon or not, Tony returns the sentiment.
"Love you too, baby," he whispers as he bottoms out inside of you. You can feel every inch of him inside you, and the sensation causes you to writhe beneath him. His chest is pressed against yours, and you can feel his heart beating through the fabric of his suit that was yet to leave his figure, but you figured you’d see him without the suit another time. 
“Fuck, gonna be a good girl and take my cum?” Tony's deep, ragged breaths spurred you on as his orgasm neared. You could feel your own climax building, your body shuddering in anticipation. Unable to form coherent sentences, you nodded in response.
Your back arched off the leather couch as you reached your peak, crying out in ecstasy as Tony's movements became even more frenzied. "Yes, gonna come so hard, Tony. Need you so bad." Your words were barely audible through your moans as he grunted and thrust into you one final time before the both of you came. 
Breathless and spent, Tony's lips crashed down on yours once again.
The heat between your bodies was almost suffocating as you rode out your high. He remained inside you until he was soft, and when he finally pulled out, a trail of your arousal leaked onto the leather beneath you. A groan escaped him as he took in the sinful sight, but you were too lost in your pleasure-drunk haze to fully register it.
You're too spent to move, but from the hazy corner of your vision, you see him in front of a mirror slicking back his disheveled hair. Still dazed and caught up in the aftermath of your orgasm, it took you a while to gather yourself and get dressed. But as soon as you did, Tony turned to you with his trademark smirk. 
"So, about that Playboy call?"
⎊ back to masterlist
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mostly-marvel-musings · 6 months ago
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How about “nope no nada, no using sex to get me to do things you want, it’s not going to work anymore” + using sex to get our favorite insomniac Mr. Stank to take a break from work and come to bed?
Old tricks
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A/N: I was waiting for this prompt, can’t believe it was in my inbox the whole time and I missed it. Leave a comment, heart or reblog if you’ve enjoyed reading :)
Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader
Warning: 18+ sex themes, fluff
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“How long has it been since he last took a nap, FRI?” You sighed, closing the book you were currently reading before stifling a yawn.
Thirty eight hours and counting, Mrs. Stark.
He was at it again. After promising that he would join you in bed early today, Tony Stark was still in the basement, nose deep in inventing yet another device that would potentially save the universe.
Rolling your eyes you threw the sheets off of your legs, rummaging through your closet to find the oldest trick in the book of ‘Getting your husband to obey’.
A set of lingerie was usually your go to but tonight, you decided on going down to his lab wearing nothing but a silky robe that you planned on discarding the moment he would lay eyes on you.
Overriding his protocol with FRIDAY’S help, you entered his lab and were met with an immediate blast of cold air; it fortunately worked in your favour, pebbling your nipples and making them evident against the flimsy piece of fabric.
Your husband stood hunched over his table that displayed varied diagrams and models with a blue glowing light that made his features appear exhausted. He probably was. Not that he would ever admit.
“Hello husband.”
You murmured, hugging the man from behind and wrapping your arms around his middle, feeling his tight muscles against your soft flesh, the contrast making you frown.
Tony sighed, melting against your touch immediately, as his hands stopped working to cover yours in a reassuring way.
“Are you planning on warming your side of the bed any time soon? Perhaps your wife would like some company too..”
Turning in your arms, he leaned in to kiss your lips in a wordless apology before stopping, his strained eyes grazing down your form, taking you in.
“What are you doing, Y/N?”
“What?” You feigned innocence, grabbing his hands and bringing them to the front of your robe, beginning to unfasten the ties.
Letting out a defeated grunt, Tony’s head planted itself against your shoulder, stopping your movements at once.
“Nope. No. Nada. No using sex to get me to do things you want, it’s not going to work anymore.” You grinned because his voice lacked conviction, and the fact that he hadn’t pushed you away meant you had already won.
“Isn’t it?”
You smirked, undoing the belt completely now to reveal what the robe barely covered. Opening an eye, Tony drank your glorious self in, not finding enough reason to resist. With your nipples turned into buds and the glistening between your thighs, he was powerless.
Tony Stark simply wasn’t built to resist your persuasion.
Taking the robe off completely, you stepped back and turned to head out of his lab, throwing the robe over the shoulder with a knowledge that it had probably landed on his head.
“You’re just gonna wander around the house naked now?” He called after you, cock stirring in his pants at the sight of your curves sashaying their way out, just for him as you shrugged in response.
“Maybe I’ll try another good old trick. Perhaps that toy you designed for our anniversary?”
There was a curse word uttered under his breath before Tony Stark shut off his lab for the night and made a beeline in your direction, refusing to let his wife pleasure herself with anything that wasn’t his cock or tongue.
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Find Part 2 here!
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moonlit-imagines · 9 months ago
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Headcanons for being the forgetful Avenger
Avengers x reader
warnings:
a/n: it not too long i so sorry
prompt: @glitchy-bean: “Hi!!! I hope you're doing good!!! Could I request smth with a really forgetful reader + the avengers gang? More like found family than anything romantic at all with a teen reader if that's okay!!!”
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“well sorry” -you, consistently “i cant remember everything”
“you can’t remember anything” -nat
“yeah, y/n, were you dropped on the head as a baby or something?” -tony
“cut it out, guys. it’s not their fault they forgot thor’s birthday. besides, hes had a couple thousand” -steve
“are you calling me old, captain?” -thor
“at least im not the only one” -steve
it wasn’t just birthdays you forgot
much much more serious than that
rendezvous points, mission details, plans of attack, perp descriptions, where you put your keys, where you put your gun
you name it you forgot it
i mean—not always, but enough for it to be the running joke
“keep your comms on, y/n. not having a disaster like last time when you couldn’t remember whether to cut the red wire or green wire” -tony
“you wish i cut the wrong one” -you
“uh, no, that’s very harsh. i moreso wished you didn’t scare us half to death by nearly digging your grave” -tony
“oh ok i forgot” -you
“who left their macaroni and cheese in the microwave?” -vision
“damn! its cold. and crusted a little. how long did i leave this in here?” -you, poking your tray with a fork “and why are you using the microwave? you dont eat”
“this is a shared space, is it not?” -vision
“he’s got you there” -steve
“you’re just ganging up on me because you’re all miserable and you want me to be miserable too. i’m going to drive one of tony’s expensive cars now, you can’t stop me” -you, storming out
you walked right back in
“what’d you forget?” -steve
“wallet, phone, keys” -you
tony noticed
“where is y/n going with my car?” -tony
“not sure, just out” -steve
“probably gonna forget their turn signal and crash into someone’s car” -tony
as far as missions went, though, you were a bit of a powerhouse so you didn’t really need to be looked after on that front…just had to make sure not to blow anyone else’s cover
“hey, what’s the codeword again?” -you
“check your wrist, kid” -nat
“oh, right…okay thanks” -you
“*gasp* was i supposed to give the signal? i just kinda went in” -you
“ok, who told y/n they could give the signal. speak up now” -tony
*clint loudly snickering over comms*
kinda forgetting what you’re talking about in the middle of sentences sometimes but like, just glitching out
“something smells like it’s burning” -you “my cookies…”
you forgot to set a timer
and forgot you were making cookies
the avengers honestly did find it endearing
just a hyper kid who cant get their thoughts in a solid line
but they’d continue making jabs at you constantly
“maybe wanda can fix your memory problems” -tony
“i will not” -wanda
“oh well nevermind then” -tony
honestly with all your forgetfulness, you worried as you dusted away if anyone would forget about you
taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //
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imtryingbuck · 8 months ago
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He doesn’t know.
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~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!Reader
Summary: You and Tony date until he breaks your heart, he soon regrets it.
Word count: 1,800
Warnings: angst. cheating (sorry). Tony’s 40 readers 28. Swearing. pepper is terrible (sorry) mentions of miscarriage.
Masterlist
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You had been dating Tony for the past three years, you met when he bumped into you in the restaurant you worked at. The air was knocked out of the both of you, you not only because you hadn’t expected to be nearly knocked down on your ass or the feeling of a strong arm wrapping themselves around your waist just before you hit the ground. Him because he wasn’t expecting to knock into the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
From that day on Tony came into the restaurant just to see you, spending money on food he didn’t eat sometimes he would just sit at the bar and talk to you if you were manning it.
Six months after your initial meeting he asked you out even though there was an age difference between the pair of you, you said yes.
Everyday since you two were dating was different, he spoiled you to no end from expensive gifts to lavish trips to beautiful places. The love you two shared was something you never experienced before, it was pure. It was genuine.
You had never been happier.
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For the past five months Tony was becoming distant from you, he was always working on projects that he never let you in on which you understood, you didn’t need to know the ins and outs of his business. Whenever you were lucky enough to spend time with him he was on his phone texting. When he came home from work he would go straight into the bathroom and you’d be lying in bed hearing the shower running.
For five months you tried and tried to get him to slow his work schedule down worried for what it was going to do with his health but all he replied with was yeah I will, but it never happened.
Today was your four year anniversary and since he hadn’t said anything about what you two would be doing you had decided that you’d surprise him at work with a home cooked meal since you knew he wouldn’t leave to go to a restaurant as work was too busy. Hopefully he could spare thirty minutes of his time to spend with you. It was your anniversary after all.
Getting out of the car you walked into the tower, greeting the receptionist with a smile receiving one in return you go into the elevator. The higher the box went up the worse your nerves got.
It’s just Tony, you thought to yourself.
Once the door opened you looked around to see any of the hero’s you had become friends with in the now four years you had been with Tony but you couldn’t find anyone so you headed straight to Tony’s office. Knocking on the door twice you opened the door.
And that’s where everything that had been happening in the past five months where Tony had been acting strange and distant had all made sense.
The man you was in love with, the man you stood by when everyone slated him, the man that defended you publicly when you was being called a gold digger, the man who has now officially broke your heart.
That man was sitting on the couch in his office with a blonde woman sat on his lap. Lips locked together. Her shirt on the floor. His hands roaming her torso.
“This looks bad...”
That’s all what the man who you have loved for four years, the man who you have just caught cheating on you, said when he heard you drop the containers off food on the floor.
“What is it babe? Oh it’s you” the blonde said when he pulled away from her, she saw where he was looking so she turned to face you.
Your heart dropped.
It was Pepper.
With your eyes fixed on his you stumbled backwards knocking into the door frame on your way out. Turning around you walked as fast as your legs could carry you back to the elevator, with every step you took you could hear Tony behind you.
“Y/n. Y/n, baby slow down. Please just wait” thanks to the wait of the elevator he managed to catch up to you.
“Baby it-it’s not what-“
“How long?”
His heart clenched painfully at the way your voice sounded so small, seeing the way you flinched at him touching you crushed him. Tony knew that he only had himself to blame. He also knew he was going to have to tell you the truth, knowing for a fact that you were going to be leaving him forever when he told you broke his heart.
“Y/n-“
“How long”
“S-six mo-months” Tony’s stomach sunk when he saw your hand go flying to cover your mouth, hearing a muffled sob coming from you.
“W-why?”
“Y/n-“
“Why. Why Tony?”
“I-I-I…I don’t know”
He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why he’s been cheating on you for the past six months. He doesn’t know why he’s cheated on you and thrown your three years relationship down the drain.
He doesn’t even have an answer to give you for breaking your heart into millions of pieces.
“Wasn’t-“ No. No you wasn’t going to ask that. No way was you going to ask the cheater ‘wasn’t I good enough’ or ‘what did I do wrong’. He was the one that cheated, not you. No way was you going to ask all the questions that you wanted to ask because he simply did not know why he had been cheating on you for the past six months with his assistant.
The same assistant that knew you two were dating.
“Y/n baby please-“
“Babe have you told her?” Pepper’s voice cut him off this time.
Tony’s eyes went straight to his shoes finding it easier for him to shake his head without looking at you.
“To-told me what?”
What could be worse than finding out that your boyfriend had been cheating on you for six months?
“I’m pregnant! We’re going to have a baby” 
That’ll do it. That was worse.
You and Tony agreed that you’d both start trying to get pregnant when you celebrated your three year anniversary. It just wasn’t working but you kept trying. Until eight months ago. You found out you was pregnant, the way Tony’s face lit up with tears streaming down his cheeks when you told him he was going to be a father engrained it’s self into your memory.
A month after that happy day you woke up to cramps in your stomach, Tony rushed you to the hospital where they told you that you had lost baby Stark.
Maybe that’s what drove him into the arms of another woman. A woman who was the same age as him. A woman that could give him what he’s always wanted.
A woman that simply wasn’t you.
“D-do you love her?”
Tony frowned at the question, he expected you to call him names or something. He expected you to tell him that he was worse than the devil himself but no, no you asked him if he loved Pepper.
“Y-yes”
“I-I wish you two t-the best.” Tony’s sad eyes filled with tears, the itch to ask him why he was sad for gnawed at you, Pepper looked smug.
Turning to Pepper you looked her in the eyes “you know the saying don’t you? What they do with you…they do on you”
You were rather proud of the fact that you didn’t stutter when looking at the woman who was sleeping with your boyfriend. Seeing her smug smile drop when she understood what you were implying turned your pain into satisfaction.
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“Y/n?”
“Hel-hi Tony”
“I knew that was you, hi”
It’s been six years since you last saw Tony, a year after leaving you met a divorcee a few months after moving to a new town. Things moved quickly between the pair of you, a year after meeting him he proposed, a month later you were married, eight months later you gave birth to your daughter. Finding yourself pregnant four months after giving birth to Ali, several months afterwards you gave birth to twin boys Harvey and Jackson.
“Hi Tony. What are you doing here?”
Here being in the town you lived in with your family, here being in the car park of target.
“We had a mission just dropping off for some food, what about you?”
“I live here”
“Oh, so how have you been?”
“Fine. What about you?”
“Fine. Fine. I-I messed up Y/n/n badly! Turned out that the baby wasn’t mine an-and I’ve been trying to find yo-“
“Momma!” You turned around to find Ali running at you full speed, her pigtails flailing around as she got closer to you.
“Momma? Y/n is she mine?”
“No-“ you had to laugh at his question. Luckily he hadn’t touched you in them five months of him cheating on you, it was impossible for him to be the dad of your beautiful baby girl. “No she’s my husbands”
“H-husband?” Tony stuttered, eyes going straight to your ring finger. Heart sinking when he found a shiny diamond ring sitting there.
“That would be me, nice to meet a friend of Y/n’s. Baby the twins made me get them a new toy”
“Made you? Your an adult, they are only children”
“They’re scary babe”
Tony stood there awkwardly watching the interaction between the woman who he has never stopped loving, and her husband.
“T-twins? You have three kids?”
“Yeah, they practically run the house. Always outnumbered with the three little rascals” your husband said smiling proudly. “Oh by the way I’m Andy, nice to meet you.”
“Tony”
“Yeah I know who you are. Come on baby we need to get going home” Tony didn’t like the way Andy’s voice was towards him.
“Coming love. It was nice seeing you Tony, I’m sorry about the baby. I wish you nothing but happiness, goodbye”
You didn’t even let him say anything back to you before you took Andy’s waiting hand as he had Ali in his other arm.
Getting into the car with your husband after he got Ali into her car seat, you smiled at the twins and Jacob - your stepson - then at your husband.
After finding out about Tony’s betrayal you thought you would never find love and happiness again but life lead you to Andy, the man who made you feel loved more than Tony ever did. Andy made you feel happier more than Tony ever did.
“Let’s go home”
As your family’s car pulled out of the parking lot Tony’s eyes never left the vehicle.
He had lost his everything the moment he let Pepper kiss him that first time. Now six years on he had truly lost his world to another man.
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Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77
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ddejavvu · 1 month ago
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being Tony Stark's controversially young gf.... I would be so annoying I fear. Calling him "old man", asking him to buy you stuff bc he's so rich (asking him if he can't afford it when he says no), winking at paparazzi when they catch you together... And getting put in your place when the brattiness gets out of control ofc 💋
mmmmhmhmhm the little bit of toxicity here is exactly what i was looking for <333 being spoiled and bratty and demanding that he buy you things and then when he says no 'asking him if he can't afford it' OOOH YEAH.. ugh i can just imagine the paparazzi going insane over y'all and you see so much online about him 'taking advantage of younger girls' but you're pretty sure you're taking advantage of him the way he swipes his card whenever you ask him to >:) and of course you let him fuck you stupid but sometimes you act like it's such a chore, like you'd rather be anywhere else and that's when he snaps and grabs your face in a bruising grip, refusing to let go until you blabber that you love him. he won't say it back.
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srslyblvck · 2 months ago
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daddy issues, tony stark [ part II ] [requested]
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pairing: tony stark x daughter!reader
synopsis: tony might've been a great superhero but he wasn't a great father.
genre: angst
word count: 2.9k
Part I
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ YOU HELD THE INVITATION out to him, hands trembling slightly with excitement. “It’s this Saturday,” you said, voice soft but eager. “It’s a science fair, and I’ve been working really hard on this project. I thought… maybe you’d like to come?”
Tony barely looked up, the usual hum of his holographic screens reflecting in his tired eyes. But then he caught sight of the hope in your gaze, and he finally nodded, taking the invitation with a small smile. “Yeah, sure, kiddo,” he said. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
That simple promise was enough for you. Every evening that week, you stayed up late perfecting each part of the project, tweaking every detail. You didn’t want to win the science fair; you just wanted Tony to see it, to see you, and to feel proud.
When Saturday arrived, you were nervous but excited. You set up your stall carefully, double-checking each piece of the project display, hoping it would be something that would catch his eye. As people wandered through the fair, they stopped by your booth, impressed by the level of detail and precision in your work.
But every time you scanned the crowd, you didn’t see him. Your heart sank as parents, teachers, and students came and went, praising your project. The minutes slipped by, and the fair began to wind down. The chair beside you remained empty.
Finally, the awards were announced. They called your name, and a polite round of applause filled the room as you accepted the medal and certificate, trying to smile as people congratulated you. You told yourself it didn’t matter. It was just another award, another paper. But deep down, you felt the disappointment settle like a weight in your chest. You didn’t want the medal—you wanted him to be there, even just to see you in the crowd.
Later that night, Tony stepped out of his workshop, exhausted but satisfied with his work. He made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a drink and mindlessly sipping when his gaze fell on something bright and familiar—the invitation you’d given him, stuck to the fridge door.
The words “Science Fair” stood out in big, hopeful letters.
He froze, feeling his stomach twist with guilt as he read the details: Saturday, 2 PM. It was hours past now. He’d missed it. And you’d been waiting, hoping he’d show.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, setting his glass down hard enough to make the ice clink. Panic flickered in his chest as he wondered if he could still make it. He’d go, tell you he was sorry, anything to make up for it. He was about to leave when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Tony,” Natasha’s voice was low but carried a weight of disappointment. She stood at the kitchen entrance, her arms crossed as she looked at him with a quiet, disappointed frown. “I picked her up an hour ago.”
Her words hit him harder than he’d expected, and his shoulders sagged. He had missed it, and not just by a few minutes. He’d missed you showing your project, your moment, everything.
Without another word, he made his way to your room, heart heavy with regret. He stopped in front of your door, hesitating. A soft knock, and he waited. When no response came, he opened the door quietly, stepping inside.
The sight made his chest tighten. You were asleep on the floor, curled up against the bed, your cheeks stained with dried tears. Next to you, the medal and certificate were tossed aside, the project itself lying on its side, carelessly left where you must’ve dropped it. His heart clenched seeing the once carefully crafted project in pieces, as if it were something you no longer cared about, just like you must have felt he didn’t care.
Tony crouched down, lifting the project gently and turning it over in his hands. His eyes widened as he realized what you’d been working on—an arc reactor prototype, similar to his own designs, with an ingenious twist on the core structure. It was something he’d been experimenting with in his own work, but you’d done it independently. Quietly. He could see the hours you’d poured into it, the dedication in every small piece.
His gaze shifted to the medal and certificate, his thumb brushing over the engraved words: First Place, Science Fair.
He picked up the project, medal, and certificate, gently placing them on your desk, handling them with the care you’d given them in the first place. After a moment’s thought, he walked down the hall to the room where his collection of awards and trophies sat, things he’d earned and displayed with pride. He added your certificate and medal to the shelf among them, a quiet acknowledgment of your accomplishment, and of the pride he should’ve shown you himself.
Returning to your room, he leaned down and carefully gathered you in his arms, lifting you from the floor. You shifted slightly in his hold, but you didn’t wake. He gently placed you on your bed, pulling a blanket over you and brushing a few strands of hair from your face. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m so, so sorry, kiddo.”
He pulled back, watching you with a mix of regret and sadness. You deserved a father who showed up, a father who was there to tell you how proud he was. He’d promised you once before, and he’d broken that promise again. But seeing the tear stains on your cheeks and the way you’d fallen asleep waiting, he vowed, right then and there, to make things right.
After the science fair, something inside you changed. You had spent years hoping, wishing for Tony’s attention, his presence. But that day, sitting alone as he’d failed to show up yet again, you felt something break. Maybe it was the last piece of hope you’d held onto, or maybe it was the realization that you couldn’t keep waiting for him.
The disappointment was too much, and you decided you were done.
From that day on, you stopped seeking him out, stopped waiting for the promises he never kept. You didn’t make him coffee in the mornings, didn’t check if he’d eaten. You stopped wandering into his lab, hoping he might turn around and finally see you. Instead, you kept to yourself, focusing on school, friends, and the occasional training session with the Avengers. When you did cross paths with Tony, you barely said a word, nodding politely before walking away.
At first, Tony didn’t notice, assuming you were just busy. But after a few days, he realized that he hadn’t seen you come by the workshop. You hadn’t shown up with coffee, hadn’t peeked into his lab to see what he was working on. He started to notice the quiet absence of your presence, the hollow ache that settled in his chest when he realized that you were no longer there, waiting for him.
He began trying to find ways to pull you back. He left notes on your door, asking if you wanted to join him for a quick meal, but you didn’t respond. He tried to catch you before school, only to find you’d already left early. Once or twice, he even came into the kitchen to find you already grabbing your things to head out, barely looking his way as you passed him.
The tables had turned, and now he was the one chasing your attention. And each time you walked past him, it was a reminder of the countless times he’d done the same to you.
Tony tried harder, desperate to reach you. He’d show up at your school events unannounced, hovering at the back of the room, hoping to catch you. When he did manage to see you, he’d smile, wave, but you’d turn away before he could approach.
One day, he waited for you in the kitchen after school, hoping you’d talk to him. “Hey, kid,” he greeted, trying to keep his tone casual.
You barely nodded, giving him a half-hearted wave before turning away, as if he were just another face in the tower.
The realization stung—he was a stranger to you now, a shadow in the very place he’d thought he’d always be the brightest.
You’d always had a habit of fussing over Tony before missions, even though he brushed it off with a laugh or a smirk every time. You’d run over to him, throwing your arms around him in a quick hug, muttering a soft “Be safe. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” It was something he’d come to expect—a ritual, in a way. But this time, as he and the Avengers prepared to head out, you were nowhere near him.
He waited, lingering by the Quinjet, scanning the hallways for you. The other Avengers gave him a curious glance, noticing his rare display of hesitation.
But you didn’t come to him. You were busy talking to Steve, listening to Natasha’s quick pointers on handling herself if anything went wrong in the tower, and as you stood there, you didn’t even glance his way.
Tony tried to brush off the pang of disappointment that settled in his chest. It was strange, seeing you so distant, so unaffected as if he was just another face in the tower. He had known you’d started pulling away, but this—this was different. He’d started to miss you in a way he hadn’t anticipated, and the absence of your hug and your quiet words lingered with him as the Quinjet door closed, and they headed off to the mission.
Hours passed, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Normally, you’d distract yourself while they were away, maybe even work on a project in the workshop or catch up on schoolwork. But today, that feeling of unease was stronger than ever, gnawing at you with a persistence you couldn’t ignore.
You paced the hallways, glancing at the clock every few minutes. The quiet tower felt unbearably heavy, each minute stretching on endlessly. And then, finally, the faint roar of the Quinjet’s engines filled the air, signaling their return.
You hurried down to the landing bay, expecting to see Tony strutting out, cracking some half-baked joke about the mission, brushing off any bruises like they were nothing.
But as the jet doors opened, your heart plummeted.
The first figure to emerge was Steve, his face drawn with worry. And behind him, there was Tony—lying still on a stretcher, his armor dented, his face pale, and his shirt soaked through with blood.
“Dad!” you screamed, running over as the medics began wheeling him out. You reached for his hand, gripping it tightly as you matched the pace of the stretcher. “Dad, can you hear me?”
Hearing your voice, Tony’s eyes flickered open, and he gave you a faint, almost dazed smile, his lips twitching up as if this were all just another routine day. “Hey, kiddo,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.
You felt tears welling up in your eyes, his usual grin so painfully out of place as blood seeped through his clothes. He looked like he was moments from passing out, yet here he was, trying to smile at you as if he weren’t literally dying.
Dr. Cho appeared at that moment, taking control as she and the med team rushed him toward the med bay. You clung to his hand, following until Dr. Cho gently but firmly urged you to let go so they could begin.
Your grip slipped reluctantly, your hand falling back to your side as they wheeled him away. You felt helpless, watching as they disappeared through the doors, the weight of everything settling heavily on your chest. Had he been injured because he’d been waiting for you to say goodbye? Was it your fault for not showing him you still cared?
You sank against the wall outside the med bay, waiting, your heart pounding as guilt and worry tangled together. You could barely breathe, the fear settling into your bones as the minutes stretched into hours.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dr. Cho came out, a tired but gentle smile on her face.
“He’s stable,” she said, her voice reassuring. “The wound was deep, but we managed to stop the bleeding. He’ll need rest and shouldn’t move around much, but he’s going to be okay.”
Relief flooded through you, a weight lifting off your chest as you let out a shaky breath. You thanked her, your voice choked with emotion as you entered the med bay, your eyes immediately finding Tony’s sleeping form.
He looked peaceful, a rare stillness on his face as he rested. You pulled a chair close to the bed, sitting down and taking his hand in yours, your fingers brushing over the cuts and bruises along his knuckles. You stared at his hand, a lump forming in your throat as everything you’d been bottling up began to spill over.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely audible, as you traced the faint lines of scars on his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”
Tears pricked at your eyes as the realization sank in, the guilt pressing down on you like a heavy weight. You hadn’t been there, hadn’t told him to be safe, and the thought that he’d gone into danger without knowing you cared made your heart ache.
From that moment, you didn’t leave his side, staying by his bed for days, watching over him, holding his hand, making sure he knew you were there. The other Avengers came by, offering words of comfort, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave unless it was absolutely necessary.
Days passed, and one morning, as you sat by his bed, your head resting on your arms, exhaustion finally caught up with you. You’d fallen asleep, Tony’s hand still cradled in yours as you dozed off at his bedside.
When Tony stirred awake, blinking blearily at the room around him, he felt a warmth against his hand. Glancing over, he saw you, your head resting on the edge of the bed, your eyes closed, your grip on his hand firm even in sleep. A small, tired smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of you, his chest tightening with a mix of relief and gratitude.
Dr. Cho entered quietly, offering him a knowing smile as she did her routine check. “She’s barely left your side,” she whispered, nodding toward you. “You’re lucky to have her.”
Tony’s gaze softened, his smile lingering as he looked at you, memories of the past few weeks flashing through his mind. When Dr. Cho finished and quietly left, he shifted slightly, trying to move without disturbing you. But the small movement was enough to make you stir, your eyes fluttering open as you lifted your head, immediately reaching out to steady him.
“Hey, careful,” you murmured, your voice thick with sleep. “Don’t move too much. Dr. Cho said you need rest.”
Tony chuckled softly, his voice weak but filled with warmth. “Guess I’m not used to lying around doing nothing,” he replied, squeezing your hand gently
You frowned at him, though your expression softened with relief. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything? Water? Or maybe some food? Can’t get you alcohol, obviously…”
You rambled on, the questions pouring out in rapid succession, not giving him a chance to respond. “How are you feeling now? Do you want me to—”
“Whoa, slow down,” Tony interrupted with a soft laugh, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “I’m fine, kid. Really. You don’t have to worry.”
You let out a shaky breath, the weight of everything you’d been holding in finally pressing down on you. Silence settled between you, thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions, until finally, both of you spoke at the same time.
“I’m sorry.”
Tony looked at you, his brow furrowing with confusion. “Why are you sorry?” he asked gently. “I’m the one who’s messed up, not you.”
You shook your head, your gaze falling as you fiddled with the edge of the bed sheet. “I should’ve said goodbye, like I always do. I was upset, and I thought… maybe if I didn’t care, it wouldn’t hurt so much. But I do care, and I’m sorry I let my pride get in the way.”
Tony’s hand tightened around yours, his expression softening as he watched you. “Hey, listen to me,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “This is on me. I know I’ve let you down, more times than I can count. And I know I haven’t been the dad you deserve. But I’m here now, and I’m… I’m done screwing this up.”
He looked at you, his gaze steady, a rare sincerity in his eyes. “I know it’s going to take time to fix things, but I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’m going to be there for you. I swear it.”
You blinked, tears welling up in your eyes as his words sank in, the honesty and determination in his voice breaking down the walls you’d built around yourself. You reached out, gripping his hand tightly, the weight of all the years of waiting and hoping finally easing.
“Just… show up, okay?” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek as you held his gaze. “That’s all I need.”
He nodded, a small, heartfelt smile on his face as he leaned back, squeezing your hand. “Then consider it done, kiddo.”
And in that moment, surrounded by the quiet hum of the medbay and the warmth of his hand in yours, you allowed yourself to believe him, feeling a glimmer of hope
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lavylu · 9 months ago
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How about something where Tony is really tired after a few rounds with the reader but she's not nearly done? I was thinking about an age gap of about 15 years that would explain why tony gets tired more quickly. Sorry if it has already been asked before ^^"
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“Tonyyyy” you whine. You sit on the edge of the bed and look up at him with pouty lips.
Tony chuckles and runs his fingers through his graying beard. “I love you baby, but I’m tired”
“But I need you so bad” you pout a little. You are full of energy. You and Tony had just finished watching a steamy movie and you were horny.
However, your husband was tired.
He sits down on the bed and lets out a sigh. He relaxes into the bed. “I’m sorry baby, but I’m old”
You crawl up the bed and curl up next to him. You look up at him with lust filled eyes, begging for attention.
“Please Tony” you rub your thighs together trying to get some friction.
Tony pets your hair. You mewl and begin to trail your hand to his pants.
You look at him through your eyelashes “let me do it”
Tony blushes but nods “okay baby, let’s get rid of all that energy”
You squeal happily when he agrees and straddle him. You grind your hips down into him, you feel his arousal gather beneath you.
Tony leans his head back and moans. “I can’t believe that after two rounds you still are horny”
You giggle and tug down his pants so his cock springs out. You begin to stroke his cock, your hand wrapping around his member.
Tony moans as you stroke him. You sink into him slowly. You let out a sound of pure pleasure as you begin to ride him.
Tony grabs your hips and guides your motions. “Good girl”
You quicken your pace, chasing release. You moan out as his cock hits your g spot. Your motions are quick and full of energy as you grind.
Tony just smirks “it’s a good thing you take care of your old hubby”
You laugh “well with a dick this good, it doesn’t matter”
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