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deansbeer · 1 month ago

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diet pepsi ⎯⎯ DEAN WINCHESTER.

⎯⎯ you and dean finally cross the line from best friends to lovers, giving in to the undeniable passion between you.

YAP SESH! this is dedicated to my girl BREEZY @titsout4nicholas <3 i know i know, it took me 4ever to get it out, but it's here !!! i wanted it to be a soft smut type FIC, so i'm sorry if it isn't the usual filthy smut yall were expecting.

୨ৎ JENSEN'S LIBRARY.

୨ৎ gif creds @sensitivehandsomeactionman !

YOU WATCH THE RAINDROPS RACE DOWN the impala's window, counting each one that reaches the bottom first. the gentle patter of rain against metal and glass creates a soothing rhythm that matches your heartbeat. dean pulls into an empty rest stop, the headlights cutting through the darkness and reflecting off the wet pavement.

"wait here, i'll be right back," dean says with that signature smile of his before stepping out into the rain.

you pull dean's worn brown leather jacket tighter around your shoulders, breathing in the familiar scent of leather, gunpowder, and his cologne. he'd draped it over you earlier when you'd started shivering. being dean's best friend means knowing all his little gestures of care — the way he shares his jacket, checks the salt lines twice around your motel room, brings you your favorite snacks.

through the foggy window, you watch him jog to the vending machine, his boots splashing in puddles. the blue glow illuminates his face as he feeds quarters into the slot. a few moments later, he's sliding back into the driver's seat, water droplets clinging to his hair and eyelashes.

"here you go, sweetheart," he says softly, pressing the cold diet pepsi can into your hands. "your favorite."

"you remembered," you smile, touched by the simple gesture. dean remembers everything about you — how you like your coffee, your favorite songs, the way you scrunch your nose when you're thinking hard about something.

"'course i did. what kind of best friend would i be if i didn't?" he winks, starting up baby's engine. the familiar rumble surrounds you both.

dean drives down empty backroads, streetlights casting intermittent golden glows across his face. you share comfortable silence broken only by quiet classic rock from the radio and occasional sips of your soda. these are the moments you treasure most — just you and dean and the open road.

"you're special to me, you know that?" dean says suddenly, glancing over at you. "my baby."

your heart flutters at the endearment. coming from anyone else, it might feel patronizing. but from dean, it feels like being wrapped in warmth and safety and belonging.

"you're special to me too," you whisper back.

dean reaches over and squeezes your hand gently. you lace your fingers through his, marveling at how perfectly they fit together. maybe someday you'll be ready to cross that line between friendship and something more. but for now, this is enough — sharing quiet moments in his beloved impala, drinking diet pepsi, and knowing that no matter what supernatural threats you face, you'll face them together.

the rain continues as baby carries you both through the night, towards whatever adventure awaits. but in this moment, you're exactly where you want to be — by DEAN WINCHESTER'S side, his best friend, his baby.

as the downpour continues, creating a steady rhythm against the impala's roof. dean turns onto a secluded side of the road, the trees creating a canopy overhead. he kills the engine and turns to face you, his eyes dark and full of longing. next thing you know. you're both in the backseat of baby.

you swallow, your heart pounding in your chest as he leans in, gently brushing his lips against yours. you part your lips, letting out a soft moan as his tongue explores your mouth. your hands find their way to the short spiky strands of his hair, tugging softly as the kiss deepens.

dean pulls back, his forehead resting against yours. "you sure about this?" he whispers, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

you nod, looking him in the eyes. "yeah. i want this. i want you."

he kisses you again, his hands roaming over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. you arch into him, your body on fire with need.

dean breaks the kiss, his breathing heavy. "we can stop anytime you want," he says, his voice gruff.

you shake your head, your hands pulling at the hem of his shirt. "i don't want to stop. not now. not ever."

he helps you out of his worn brown leather jacket, your shirt and expertly unclasps your lace bra, his eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of your bare upper body. he leans down, his lips finding your breasts, his tongue teasing your nipples. you gasp, your back arching as pleasure shoots through you.

dean's hand travels down your body, his fingers finding the waistband of your jeans. he looks up at you, waiting for your approval. you nod, biting your lip as anticipation builds.

he slowly removes them, his eyes never leaving yours. he kisses you deeply, his hands exploring your body. you moan into the kiss, your hands gripping his shoulders as he touches you in ways you've only ever dreamed of.

dean's fingers find their way inside your tight pussy, your body clenching around him as he finds your sweet spot. you gasp his name, your body trembling as pleasure builds.

"oh, de," you moan softly, a little out of breath from the intensity of it all.

he increases his pace, his thumb circling your clit as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. you cry out as you come undone, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

dean waits until you come down from your high before removing his own worn out faded jeans. he quickly rolls on a condom, his eyes never leaving yours, as if he wanted to devour you whole. he entered you slowly, carefully, giving you time to adjust. you let out a soft gasp, your pussy clenching around him.

you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer as he starts to move. he moved within you, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency. the impala rocked gently beneath you, the rhythm of your bodies matching the rhythm of the car, and the sounds of soft skin slapping fill the air. you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

you cried out his name as you come undone, your pussy convulsing around him. dean follows soon after, his body trembling as he releases deep inside you. he collapsed on top of you, but made sure he wasn't crushing you underneath his body. his breathing was heavy, holding you close, and wrapping his arms tightly around you.

the two of you lay there for a long time, tangled together in the backseat of the impala, the silence broken only by the sound of your breathing. the world outside the car slowly came back into focus, the dark trees blurring in the distance. you looked up at dean, his face softened in the dim light.

he smiled down at you, a gentle, loving smile. "y'okay?" he whispered, pressing gentle kisses all over your cheeks, nose, and eyelids.

you wrap your arms around him, nodding. your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. "'m perfect," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear.

he kisses you softly and pulls back to admire you again, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. "you're amazing, baby," he whispers back, his eyes full of love and adoration.

you snuggled closer to him, his body warm and comforting. in that moment, in the backseat of the impala, surrounded by the quiet still of the night. you both lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the rain continuing to pour outside. and for the first time in your life, you feel truly content, truly happy. you know that no matter what comes your way, you'll face it with dean by your side.

you're finally his. his baby. his girl.

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jupipedia · 1 year ago

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neither here nor there ! — h. brown. ↳ " face down, ass up, that's the way i like getting fucked ! " ↳ content warning : nsfw ( minors do not interact. ), unprotected s*x, marking, pet names ( lovie, sweetheart, etc. ), overst*mulation, multiple org*sms, forced org*sms ( ? ), cre*mpie, slight or*l ( fem. receiving. ), c*m eating, not proof read lol, etc. ↳ dedicated to: @starsoir !

you'd love to pretend that you don't know how you got where you were, but you knew exactly how you ended up in this position; face down with your ass in the air as hobie brown fucked you mindlessly.

you were dressed in one of the most revealing dresses ever made and had one goal in mind : fuck hobie brown.

you were more than the average groupie, having actually listened and enjoyed his band before you even thought of fucking him. your desire was sparked when you attended one of his gigs on a whim, wanting to listen to good music as you got a drink at your local bar. at one point, you made your way to the front of the crowd, careful not to spill your drink on anyone as you slipped through the dense ocean of bodies. once you reached the front, hobie brown stood in all his anarchist glory, shredding away on his electric guitar and quickly sparking your interest.

since then, you've made it a mission to be the hottest girl to ever touch the same sheets as the man. you kept up to date on his pop up shows, his appearances, and the new music his band would release every now and then.

tonight, you finally captured his attention when you stood at the front of the crowd, all dolled up and singing the lyrics to his songs. your dress left little to the imagination and piqued his interest once the two of you made eye contact as you continued to lip sync along to the word, smiling sultrily as you gazed up at him.

his set was barely finished as he removed his guitar from torso, jumped into the crowd, and made his way to the door with your wrist latched in his hold, loose enough for you to pull away if you weren't interested. he could barely keep his hands off of you as he pulled you into the back of the car, his driver raising the partition once his hands began to lower to the swell of your ass. his fingers wandered close to your heat, only to stop at your panty line, affectively teasing you as the two of engaged in a fighting kiss. his kiss was hard, having no care for the lack of air in his lung as he continued to pull you closer to him. your tongue pushed against his, marveling at the cold metal ball in the center of his appendage.

the car was not parked when hobie pulled you out of it, fixing your tousled hair before pulling you through the lobby of the hotel and into the elevator. the doors hadn't closed and his lips were already back on you, hot kisses being pressed into the crook of your neck.

his eagerness took you aback, surprised that such a simple act of knowing his lyrics was enough to rile him up so much. you knew the skimpy outfit had to play a grander part in things as he tugged on it slightly, almost as if he was holding himself back from ripping off of you right in the elevator.

"leng ting you are," he mumbled against your skin, kitten licking over the small bruises he created from him nipping at your skin.

"i try," your words are barely heard as you suddenly become breathless. this is the first time you'd really spoken, other than him ensuring that you wanted to spend the night with him. you'd been to preoccupied with each other's lips that you hadn't much time to ask any questions, let alone exchange compliments.

"you do a lot more than try, lovie. didn't know i had fans as beautiful as you. or as devout. 's cute watching my lyrics fall from your pretty lips," he replied, returning to task of marking every inch of your skin, hands grasping your ass in a bruising hold as he pulled you closer to him.

"what can i say, they're good lyrics," you mutter, words coming out breathless as he sucked on the spot just below your ear.

the elevator doors opened and he wasted no time pulling you in the direction of his room, wanting nothing but to have his way with you. he reached his room, opening the door and pulling you in. you'd barely finished removing your heels when he propped you up against the door, fingers making quick work of your dress and thong.

which led you to your current position, face pushed deep into the blankets as your ass was propped up in the air as hobie fucked your into cunt. his strokes were deep and forceful as you jerked forward each time he entered you. his veined cock scraped the walls of your tight pussy, evoking whines and moans from you and, surprisingly, hobie.

you imagined that he'd be a grunter or groaner but you were even happier to find out that he was a whiner. they weren't high pitched by any means but the whiny lilt in his remark heightened your already overspilling arousal. in your previous position, his mouth had been next to your ear, allowing you to hear the praise loud and clear. while this current position put a bit of distance between the two of you, you were still able to make out his whines when they weren't drowned out by your own noises.

"f-feel so good around my cock. so fucking good," he grunts out, angling his body differently, causing the head of his cock to bump against your cervix. you blindly reached back and pushed futilely at his pelvis, running from his deep strokes. "don't tell me it's too much for you, sweetheart."

"so deep! too deep," you mewled, still pushing him away without result. the pleasure was beyond overwhelming. your mind clouded as you continued to take the pleasure, too lost in it to speak or breathe properly. his cologne and natural musk lingered through the air, suffocating you in his presence.

your legs soon begin to mimic the twitch of your cunt as your orgasm began to build. your eyes welled with tears at the euphoric pressure filling your stomach.

"go on and cum for me, yeah?" hobie draped himself over your frame, whispering softly in your ear. the return of his aroused whines so close to your ear did nothing but push you closer to the edge, leaving you teetering on the edge of a release.

hobie's hand slid down your abdomen, using his fore and middle finger to draw circles on your clit and effectively bringing you to an earth shattering release. you cry out his name, tone doused in pleasure as you threw your head back to rest upon his shoulder. he continued to pump into you, prolonging your high. almost as if your orgasm was a catalyst, hobie's hips jerked and he stilled, pouring his cum into you warm pussy.

as your orgasm subsided, hobie wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you up to rest against his chest before restarting his ministrations. you were overstimulated as you tried to escape his grasp, hoping for a quick break before continuing.

"you thought we were finished? nah, i could go all night with you," he said, holding you firm against his torso as he buried himself snug into your core. you dug your nails into his forearm, attempting to ground yourself as you melted due to the immense pleasure.

this position only allowed hobie to move minimally, but he sat snug against your cervix, each thrust pushing against it in a pleasurable way. he drew shallow gasps from you as you tried to steady your breathing. one of his hands groped at your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers causing you to tighten around him. he chuckled into your neck as he fucked his seed back into you, relishing in the hot feeling of your vice.

"gonna give me another one, yeah. hmm, pretty girl?" he teased, pinching your nipple and quicken the pace of his finger on your clit. he smirked at the release of your pitchy moans before going back to kiss on your neck.

"'m gonna cum. please! gonna cum!" you wailed, withering in his hold as you began to release. you felt his nod and your entire body shook from the intensity of your orgasm. hobie whispered sweet nothings in your ear before he allowed himself to drown in his own pleasure.

"fuck, you feel so good. hmm. fuck, had my eyes on you since you stepped to the front of the crowd. leng ting singing all m'lyrics. nearly came in my jeans," he admitted in between whines. his grip tightened on you as his moans reached a crescendo and his seed spilled into you.

his hold on you loosened but didn't drop completely as he came down from his high. his breath tickled your ear as he tried to calm himself, savoring the warmth of your walls. he released you and you fell onto your chest, ass still propped in the air as he shifted to the foot of the bed.

"hobie, please," you begged, wanting nothing but rest as he inserted his head between your thighs and lapped at your core, determined to eat your mixed essence from your used cunt.

"jus' cleaning you, pretty," he mumbled, mouth full and tongue busy. your hands made their way to his wicks as his tongue dove into your pussy. the wet muscle scooped his cum out of your entrance, rubbing perfectly against your walls. you felt a foreign pressure rise and you tugged lightly at the man's head, wanting to remove him from your core before you came.

"hobie, s'too much," you whined with no avail as he sucked on your clit, changing his mission from eating your cum to making you release once again.

this release was a bit different as short streams of liquid shot from your pussy and into his welcoming mouth. he hummed as he slurped into your cunt, ignoring your attempts at pushing his head away until he decided he was finished.

he left his position and crawled up toward the pillows, pulling you into his chest as he laid back.

"we can talk in morning, yeah? wanna get to know you a bit," he muttered, exhaustion prevalent in his tone as his spoke with eyes closed. you couldn't reply as you slipped into a sleeping state.

mission accomplished.

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚❕*∘∘˙˚༄💨 ( a jupiter production. )#hobie brown x black reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #atsv smut #atsv x reader #astv x black reader #hobie x reader #hobie x black!reader #black writblr #x black reader #hobie smut

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suntoru · 1 year ago

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─ ✰ HEARTBREAK ANNIVERSARY.

─ SYNOPSIS: rin misses you. he wonders if breaking up with you was really worth it.

─ WARNINGS: 1.2k words!! angst, regret, pining, exes, perhaps ooc rin, probably bland but!! it’s here

─ AUTHOR’S NOTE: RIN GIRLIES HERE IS UR MAN <3

— rin’s eyes anxiously dart around, scanning for your face somewhere in the stands, an unconscious habit he hasn’t been able to drop. the roar of thousands of fans cheering him on, yet strangely, the absence of satisfaction lingers within him.

it’s weird, even he knows it, that he still hopes his ex comes to his soccer matches. he’s fully aware that you are unlikely to be present, but even so, a lingering sliver of hope refuses to fade. and it’s strange, because he was the one who broke up with you to pursue his career, he was the one who broke your heart, he was the one who'd made you cry... so why does his heart feel so damn empty when you aren’t there to watch him soar?

fuck. this isn’t the time to be thinking about this. so with an annoyed huff, he pushes his feelings aside, and plays ball.

as the final whistle blows, everybody in the stadium erupts into cheers, confetti cascading down to honor the exceptional achievement. japan won nationals, rin scoring the winning goal by himself, marking tokyo's historic first-ever victory. his eyes widen with disbelief, puffing from the exertion of the intense match. the weight of the moment settles on his shoulders, and he couldn't help but look up, expecting to see the familiar sight of your proud face in the crowd, your pretty eyes catching onto his— oh. that’s right. you won’t be there anymore.

his smile falls the slightest bit. the sensation of pride and joy seems to snap almost instantly, and he doesn’t know why. this… this was his goal, his dream. the thing he wanted most in the world, in the palm of his hand. and really, he should be more happy, but he can’t seem to shake off the sinking feeling in his stomach.

his radiant smile begins to falter, a subtle shift in the atmosphere as the waves of pride and joy that had enveloped him seemed to snap abruptly. this achievement, this culmination of his dreams and aspirations, now lays within his grasp. one would expect satisfaction and happiness to course through his veins, yet an inexplicable unease settled in the pit of his stomach, casting a shadow over the moment. ignoring all his teammates’ cheers and screams, he speeds towards the locker room to get changed and go home.

his house really isn’t any better. (he questions if it’s really ‘home’ without you.) the concept of "home" now feels strangely foreign, a place that should be comforting but is instead tinged with an undeniable sense of absence. it's as if the essence of warmth has been drained away.

the once-inviting space lacks the comforting sprawl of your giant stuffed animals overtaking the bed or the mountains of your clothes taking over the closet. a peculiar emptiness lingers, a void that cannot be filled by mere physical belongings. the silence within the familiar walls is unsettling.

rin finds it quite odd not feeling your arms wrap around his torso, giving him a peck as you asked about his day. it’s strangely… quiet as well. there’s no you singing along to some laufey song completely out of tune, no alarm going off because you burnt the takoyaki, or the constant hum of the tv playing in the background. it's a quietude that, rather than offering solace, only accentuates the hollowness of the space. he’s not so sure he likes it.

he stares at the shiny, gold metal he had received. his mind, despite receiving a sparkly, golden-hued award— an emblem of achievement— stubbornly fixates his thoughts of you. he finds himself gazing at the metallic surface, a token of success that pales in comparison to the vibrant memories of your presence. he recalls your playful curiosity, imagining how you would have marveled at the gold medal, playfully testing its authenticity with an endearing chomp. he misses it. he misses you.

and he wonders what you might've changed his contact to. stupid ex, maybe? loser bitch? he deserves it. but he can't help but wonder, is there a possibility he'd still be 'rinnie', or 'my love' with a heart that never made sense because it looked more like a cheeky smile to him? (he wishes he had treasured you just a little bit more.) is he blocked? or is he just another number in your phone now? do you reread the messages he sent to you?

because he does. your contact name is still ‘loml’. he has every single photo you sent saved. he stares at the old "i love you" texts night after night after night. it's pathetic, really, but his heart aches for those moments when you'd scold him for overexerting himself, when you'd sleepily wake up at two am just to make him a hot meal when he came back late, when you'd stick those tacky hello kitty bandaids on top of the scrapes he got from soccer. he misses your good luck kisses, the ones where you'd pull his face down to your height and let out a big dramatic 'mwah!' in front of all his teammates— where he'd grumble and complain but his cheeks were undeniably a bright rosy red.

but above all, the vivid memory etched in his mind is the pain he inflicted upon you. your voice trembling, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you desperately clung to his arm, seeking an explanation. "what do you mean, rin? i don't understand. did i do something wrong?" your words quivered, on the verge of shattering, yet he callously shrugged you off, meeting your tear-filled eyes with a chilling glare.

"you're just a distraction. sorry, but soccer's more important to me."

he recalls the way your hand slowly fell away, the slow nod of comprehension, and the sight of your trembling bottom lip as you fought valiantly not to crumble. he was stupid. so, so stupid. he wishes he had pulled you into the shelter of his arms, confessed his foolishness, and reassured you that he didn't mean those hurtful words. or better yet, he wishes he didn’t say them at all. and he wants to ask, have you moved on? do you find your heart fluttering for somebody else, threatening to beat out of your chest like you once made him feel?

to be loved is to be seen. you saw him beyond the carefully constructed mask, piercing through the layers of the egoist the world molded him to be. in your gaze, he wasn't just the world's best striker or sae's little brother; he was itoshi rin. and that was enough for you.

oh, how utterly foolish he was to let you go. are you still as pretty as ever? (of course you are. you’ve never not looked absolutely stunning to him.) do you still smile as brightly as you once shone, his precious shooting star? he hopes you still find a reason to break into a grin every day.

but the question that is constantly on his mind like a broken record player. if he were to grovel and beg, surrendering his pride on his hands and knees, would you accept him back?

for a moment, he considers it. calling you. his finger hovers tentatively over the ‘audio’ call button, mere millimeters away from hearing you again. rin so desperately wishes to hear your sweet voice, see your angelic face, to be able to bask in your presence once more. would you be shocked? happy shocked, or enraged shocked, or maybe you wouldn’t pick up at all. would he go to voicemail? if he left one, would you listen? do you miss him as much as he has missed you all this time? (it’s been a month, but to him it felt like years.) yet, as the gravity of his past actions weighs heavily in his heart, an inexplicable hesitation ensnares him. you… don’t deserve this. you’re healing right now, he’s already chosen himself once, it would be utterly selfish to do it again. with a heavy exhale, he gingerly sets down his phone, fixing his gaze upon the ceiling above.

and suddenly, soccer doesn't feel like his passion after all. he wonders if it was really you.

his bed feels a little bit too cold now.

#bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #rin x reader #rin x y/n #rin x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x you #bllk angst #bllk #blue lock #itoshi rin #itoshi x reader #itoshi x y/n #itoshi x you

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amethystarachnid · 2 months ago

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Hello! I hope your requests are open!

Can I request Tony stark x reader where the reader is kind of quiet, and nerdy. She works as research assistant or smth. She's the only one who's not smitten by Tony the moment she saw him (like everybody else), she's kind of given up on love after several failed attempts and just wants to focus on her job but Tony being Tony, takes it as a challenge to make her fall for him.It turns into a bet with the team, but over the course of his plans, it's HIM who falls for her and not the other way around. I'll leave the ending to you.

Thank you so much for sharing your gift of writing with us, I'm literally devouring your fics.🩷🩷🩷

FALLING MR. STARK

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff, tiny bit of angst ?

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.7k

ᯓ★ Summary: You're the new research assistant at the Stark Tower's lab and Tony is shocked when you're not immediately at his feet, how is it possible? He decides to take matter into his own hands and try to make her fall in love with him, but what if he drags himself down too?

ᯓ★ TW(s): pure fluff

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

You step into the sleek, polished Stark Tower lobby with a small knot of anxiety in your stomach. Just keep it professional, you remind yourself. This is Tony Stark. THE Tony Stark. But you’re here for the job, not to become his latest fangirl.

Clutching your tablet a little tighter, you remind yourself of the opportunities this role as Tony Stark's research assistant brings. You're here because you’re good at your work, not because you're starstruck like everyone else in the building seems to be. You've caught a few glances already—other interns looking at you as if to say, Good luck.

One last deep breath and you’re on the elevator, speeding up to the penthouse lab. Focus on the job, you chant mentally. Forget about Tony Stark.

The doors open with a soft chime, and you step into the world that is Stark's lab. All sleek metal, futuristic screens, holographic projections hanging in mid-air. But it’s messy, too; tools and wires strewn across tables, half-finished projects everywhere. You blink, a little in awe despite yourself.

“New kid!”

The voice is unmistakably Tony Stark. He’s across the room, tinkering with something metallic on one of the tables. You watch as he pops his head up, gives you a quick once-over, and then raises his eyebrows.

“You must be the research assistant. Well, welcome to the circus,” he says, gesturing to the lab around him. He doesn’t smile, but there's something mischievous in his eyes, a spark that tells you he’s about to say something clever.

“You’re… taller than I thought you’d be,” you manage, immediately regretting how awkward you sound.

He chuckles, not missing a beat. “Oh, I get that all the time. People expect me to be a mythical 6’7”—sorry to disappoint.” He doesn’t look sorry, not at all. “And you must be…?” He gives you a look that’s half curiosity, half challenge.

You introduce yourself, keeping it simple. “I’m here for the research position. Dr. Wu recommended me.”

“Oh, Dr. Wu?” His eyebrows arch slightly, and he looks vaguely impressed. “The hypercritical nanotech expert?”

You nod. “I worked with him on a few projects at MIT.”

Tony whistles, long and low, then gives you an approving nod. “MIT, huh? Impressive. Alright, this might work. Welcome aboard, MIT.” He glances around, clearly expecting something. “Uh, welcome package?” he says to the room in general.

That’s when you notice him. Bruce Banner is sitting at a desk to the side, looking up from a tablet, amused. “I don’t think we have a welcome package for the lab, Tony.”

Tony shrugs. “Then make one,” he says, completely serious. Bruce rolls his eyes but gives you a small wave.

You give a hesitant smile and wave back, feeling a little out of place. The two of them clearly have an easy camaraderie that makes you a bit envious. You’re used to lab partners who barely make eye contact.

“Alright, let’s get you started.” Tony’s voice snaps you back. He tosses you a tablet loaded with files, and you almost fumble it but manage to catch it. “Your job, MIT, is to make me look good. Which, I know, sounds impossible given my natural state of perfection, but I believe in you.” He winks, that infamous Stark smirk firmly in place.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Charm alert, your brain warns you. But you’ve met enough self-absorbed professors and cocky lab partners to know not to take it seriously. You focus on the files instead, scanning the data.

“What exactly is the project?”

Tony grins. “Top secret nanotech project. I’d tell you more, but then I’d have to kill you. Or, more likely, have Banner kill you, because I don’t like blood.” He shrugs. “Messy.”

Bruce sighs. “Ignore him. It’s nothing that dramatic. We’re working on a nanotechnology enhancement for military armor—something that can respond to injuries in real-time.” He gives Tony a pointed look. “For field emergencies. It’s supposed to save lives.”

“That, and it’ll make me look really cool,” Tony adds, completely straight-faced.

You nod thoughtfully, focusing on the project details. Field-responsive nanotech… That’s not only cutting-edge; it’s insanely hard to develop. If you’re successful, this would be revolutionary.

You’re so absorbed in the file that you don’t notice Tony watching you until he whistles. “Wow. You didn’t faint, you didn’t swoon. Usually, I get at least a little swooning.”

You glance up, startled. “Why would I swoon? We’re talking about a project, not—”

“Not me?” He’s grinning, clearly enjoying your lack of reaction. “Exactly. I like you already, MIT.”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Leave her alone, Tony.”

Tony raises his hands in a mock-surrender. “What? I’m just making conversation. Besides,” he leans a little closer, his gaze intent, “It’s been a while since I’ve had someone around here who isn’t immediately dazzled by… well, all of this.” He gestures at himself, a theatrical flair in his movements.

You just blink, unimpressed. “I’m not here to be dazzled,” you say, perhaps a bit too bluntly. “I’m here to do the job. Dr. Wu said it’d be a challenge.”

Tony’s grin widens, looking genuinely delighted. “Alright, then. A challenge it is.” There’s a glint in his eye, a challenge of his own. But you turn back to your tablet, refusing to play into it.

In the corner, Bruce hides a smirk.

The morning passes surprisingly smoothly. Once you get over the initial wave of nerves, you’re focused and methodical, poring over the schematics, asking the right questions, noting potential improvements. Bruce is kind, offering pointers, while Tony hovers nearby, occasionally making cheeky comments or interrupting with “helpful” insights.

When lunch rolls around, Tony turns to you, smirking. “We do have this tradition in the lab, you know. Lunchtime is brainstorming time. Or, as I like to call it, Stark’s Think Tank.”

Bruce groans. “No one calls it that, Tony.”

Tony ignores him, fixing his gaze on you. “So. MIT. Want to join us for lunch?”

You shake your head, already reaching for your bag. “I’ll grab something downstairs. Thank you, though.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow. Tony, on the other hand, looks genuinely shocked.

“You don’t want to… eat with us?”

You smile politely, keeping your tone casual. “I have some notes to review, and, um… I’m sure you’ll be fine without me.”

Tony looks at Bruce, then back at you, his expression one of mock hurt. “Unbelievable. Rejected on day one.”

Bruce chuckles. “You’re losing your touch, Tony.”

But you just smile, barely managing to suppress a laugh as you step toward the elevator. Once inside, you release a breath. Tony Stark is… something. But if he thinks you’re just another smitten intern, he’s got another thing coming.

When you return after lunch, there’s a distinct change in the atmosphere. Tony’s throwing you sidelong glances as you work, and Bruce keeps snickering every time he catches him doing it. You keep your head down, ignoring them, determined to keep it professional.

Finally, Tony breaks the silence. “Okay, MIT, since you’re apparently immune to my charms, I have a proposal.”

You look up, wary. “What kind of proposal?”

Tony grins. “A bet.” He leans on the desk, folding his arms. “Let’s say I can get you to fall for me. All it’ll take is… one month.”

You blink, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

Bruce snorts. “You’re delusional, Tony.”

But Tony’s smirk doesn’t falter. “Hear me out. You’re all about the job, which, fine, admirable. But what if I made you a different kind of job offer? An experiment, if you will. One month. You let me charm you, show you my best side. And if I don’t succeed…” He pauses, thinking. “I’ll donate a million dollars to your research fund. No strings attached.”

Your mouth drops open. A million dollars? You know the fund he’s talking about; Dr. Wu had mentioned it. It’s a cutting-edge grant, but it’s constantly underfunded. A million dollars would make an enormous difference.

“And if you do succeed?” you ask skeptically, crossing your arms.

Tony shrugs, smiling. “Then you admit you were wrong about me.” His eyes are dancing, challenging. “No harm, no foul.”

You can’t help but laugh, amused at the absurdity of it all. “Fine,” you say, still laughing. “One month, and you donate either way.”

Tony’s grin is dazzling, triumphant. “I knew you’d come around, MIT.”

You shake your head, a reluctant smile creeping onto your face. “I’m not promising anything beyond one month. This is purely professional curiosity. No…dazzling involved.”

Tony places a hand over his heart, feigning a wound. “Ouch. You know how to hit a guy where it hurts. But sure, let’s call it…research.”

Bruce mutters under his breath, “Yeah, scientific research on Tony Stark’s bruised ego.”

Tony shoots him a playful glare. “Not a bruise, Banner. Just…a challenge accepted.”

With that, Tony goes back to tinkering, but you catch him sneaking glances at you every now and then, clearly strategizing his approach like you’re the world’s most intricate problem. And as you return to reviewing data, a strange feeling bubbles up in your chest—a mix of thrill and disbelief. You’re still shaking your head at the whole bizarre setup, yet there’s an undeniable excitement sparking under the surface.

By the time the day wraps up, you’ve combed through a good chunk of the project files, lost in thoughts about nanotechnology application improvements, but that undercurrent of Tony’s strange “challenge” lingers. It’s the last thing you expect to happen on day one of a serious research assistant role, but if you’ve learned one thing today, it’s that Tony Stark doesn’t exactly follow convention.

As you head back to the elevator, you hear Tony call out, “Same time tomorrow, MIT?”

You pause, glancing back. “Only if I don’t find a better offer between now and then.”

Tony grins, undeterred. “Good luck finding someone who offers a better lab setup or a more brilliant boss. But hey, feel free to try.”

The doors slide shut on his mischievous expression, and you exhale, trying to process the day. You’re not sure what you expected working for Tony Stark, but whatever it was, it definitely didn’t involve million-dollar bets or being challenged to resist his charms.

The real question is: can you make it through a month of this without getting pulled into Tony’s world more than you already have?

Only time—and maybe a little bit of your own curiosity—will tell.

The next morning, you step into Stark Tower with a resolution: you’re not going to let Tony Stark’s ridiculous wager get in the way of your job. He may be on a mission to sweep you off your feet, but you’re just as determined to keep both feet firmly planted on the ground. You’re here for your career, not for some rom-com subplot orchestrated by an overly confident billionaire.

When you reach the lab, Tony is already there, leaning against a worktable, his expression lit up with anticipation. He’s wearing a dark suit jacket over a T-shirt and jeans, casual but effortlessly put-together. He glances up as you walk in, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Morning, MIT,” he calls, flashing you a grin. “Sleep well?”

You ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “Well enough, thanks. Ready to work?”

“Work?” Tony pretends to look horrified. “You come to Stark Tower, a mecca of science and wonder, and you want to work?” He winks, moving closer as he talks. “How about I give you a tour of the best hidden spots in the tower instead?”

You glance at him suspiciously. “A tour? You mean something not essential to the project?”

“Oh, but it’s essential,” he insists, tapping a finger against his temple. “Every new hire needs to understand the layout to feel comfortable here. And anyway, it’s good for morale.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And this is part of your…bet?”

Tony grins. “Absolutely. How else am I supposed to ‘dazzle’ you if we’re just here knee-deep in nanotech all day?”

You fight a smile. As much as you’d like to pretend you’re unmoved, there’s something undeniably charming about how unabashedly Tony is throwing himself into this ridiculous game. “Alright, fine. But only because I want to make sure you’re not actually wasting time when there’s research to do.”

Tony leads the way, hands in his pockets, throwing you little side glances like he’s testing the waters. The elevator whisks you up to the higher floors, and you find yourself standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window that offers a breathtaking view of New York City. It’s a rare moment of calm amid the bustling high-tech environment of Stark Tower.

Tony watches you with a faint smile as you take it in, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of a “wow.” You settle for a nonchalant, “Nice view.”

He chuckles, clearly entertained. “You really don’t play along, do you?”

“I don’t see the point,” you say with a shrug, crossing your arms. “I’m here to work on nanotech, not to become part of Tony Stark’s latest challenge.”

“Ouch.” He places a hand over his heart in mock-pain. “Alright, alright. You want to get straight to work? We’ll work. But just so you know,” he leans closer, eyes glinting, “this isn’t over.”

The elevator dings, and you’re whisked back down to the lab before you can respond.

As the day unfolds, you’re focused and precise, working your way through JARVIS’s energy reports and identifying areas where efficiency could improve. Tony is more hands-on than you expected, frequently hovering over your shoulder, making suggestions, throwing in the occasional joke. It’s distracting, but you’re determined to ignore it. You’re making great progress—until he insists on breaking for lunch.

“Okay, lab rules say we take lunch together,” Tony announces, dramatically sweeping a hand towards the door. “Team-building exercise.”

Bruce, who’s quietly sipping his coffee in the corner, raises an eyebrow. “We don’t have a rule about that, Tony.”

“Well, now we do.” Tony looks at you expectantly, hands on his hips. “Come on, MIT. We’re doing this.”

Reluctantly, you follow him, reminding yourself that it’s just one lunch. It’s not like this is some kind of romantic date—it’s Tony Stark. Yet, as he leads you to a surprisingly cozy dining area tucked in a quiet corner of the tower, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s crafted this specifically to impress.

He orders for both of you, launching into a vivid, absurd tale about his first attempt at nanotech back in his younger, even more reckless days. As he talks, you can’t help but laugh at his dramatic descriptions of failures and mishaps.

“You really made an entire suit that could only walk backward?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It was brilliant,” Tony insists, unbothered. “Who else would think to make reverse-only armor?”

You’re about to reply when the waiter brings your meals. It’s an elegant setup, far nicer than you’d expect in a corporate cafeteria. Tony has somehow managed to get actual silverware, real napkins, and a plate that wouldn’t look out of place in a Michelin-star restaurant. You blink in surprise, trying not to laugh.

“This is…a little extra,” you say, picking up your fork.

“Only the best for MIT,” he says, pretending to look humble, but the twinkle in his eyes betrays him.

As you eat, you can feel yourself letting your guard down a little, despite all your best intentions. There’s something genuine about the way he interacts with you—like he’s actually interested in your opinions and ideas. It’s confusing, unexpected, and oddly flattering.

After lunch, Tony walks you back to the lab, his usual smirk softer than before. “So, how am I doing so far?”

You glance at him, not sure if he’s serious. “Doing?”

“Making an impression. You know, that whole bet thing.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but you can see the curiosity in his eyes.

You can’t help but laugh. “Is that what this was about? Lunch? A fancy plate and a reverse-walking suit story?”

He tilts his head, amused. “Well, it’s a start.”

You pause, meeting his gaze head-on. “Honestly? You’ll need to try a little harder.”

His eyes flash with challenge, and he leans in, crossing his arms. “Game on.”

The next day, Tony is waiting in the lab when you arrive, wearing a grin that looks suspiciously proud of itself. “Morning, MIT.”

You give him a skeptical look. “What’s that smile for?”

“Oh, nothing,” he says casually, gesturing to a table nearby. “Except for the fact that today, you’re going to help me test the latest upgrade on the Iron Man suit.”

You stare at him, not sure you heard correctly. “I…am going to what?”

Tony’s grin widens. “You’re going to help test the suit. I figured if you’re going to work with me, you might as well get a hands-on experience. Consider it…research.” He gives a little shrug, as if this is the most natural thing in the world.

The logical part of you wants to say no, but there’s another part—a braver, more curious part—that’s intrigued. Maybe even excited.

“Alright,” you say cautiously. “But if something goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal.” He’s already on the move, striding toward the table and gesturing for you to follow.

The suit is impressive up close—sleek, powerful, with that trademark gleaming red and gold. Tony walks you through the basics, showing you how the HUD works, explaining the safety features, and letting you get a feel for the controls.

“Ready?” he asks, looking as excited as a kid with a new toy.

You take a deep breath, nodding. “Let’s do it.”

As you move through the test, you feel the thrill of operating something so powerful, so cutting-edge. Tony’s coaching you the whole time, patient and encouraging. He watches every movement you make, eyes sharp and attentive. He doesn’t just want to see how you perform; he’s genuinely invested in showing you the best of his creation.

When the test ends, you pull off the helmet, grinning despite yourself. “That was…incredible.”

Tony chuckles. “Told you it’d be worth it.”

“Okay, maybe I underestimated the suit.” You glance down at it, still in awe. “But I’m still not swooning over the man who made it.”

He laughs, holding up his hands. “Fair enough. But don’t worry—I’ve got plenty more tricks up my sleeve.”

Over the next few days, Tony’s attempts to charm you become more creative—and increasingly ridiculous.

One afternoon, he brings a coffee machine into the lab and insists on making you a cup himself. You watch, unimpressed, as he fiddles with the settings, claiming he’s a “certified barista.” The resulting cup is…interesting, but his look of hopeful expectation makes you take a sip anyway. It’s terrible, but you suppress a grimace and give him a thumbs-up.

Another day, he brings in an old vinyl player and insists on playing “background music for geniuses” as you work. He puts on a jazz album and leans back, smugly watching you react to every unexpected piano chord. He looks at you for approval, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the dramatics. But deep down, you find yourself laughing, wondering what he’ll come up with next.

Each day, he throws himself into the bet with new enthusiasm, his charm bordering on absurd. He leaves little notes on your workstation, each one signed with his signature “TS.” He insists on accompanying you to lunch, despite your protests. He even brings Bruce into the antics, convincing him to try (and fail) to talk you into a “team outing” one Friday night.

And, despite your best efforts, you start to look forward to it. There’s something exciting, almost comforting, about the way he’s trying so hard to make you laugh, to make you see him differently. And little by little, you find yourself warming up to him, against all logic.

One evening, after everyone else has left the lab, Tony finds you still at your desk, poring over schematics. He leans against the door, watching you for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Burning the midnight oil?” he asks.

You look up, startled, and smile a little, trying to hide how flustered you feel under his gaze. “Just finishing up. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

He doesn’t leave, though. Instead, he walks over and sits across from you, looking more serious than usual. “You know, I thought this bet was just going to be a fun game. But now I find myself actually…wanting to know you better.”

You feel your heart skip, and suddenly you’re not sure if this is just a game anymore, either.

“Tony…”

He leans forward, holding your gaze. “Give me a chance, MIT. Outside of the bet, outside of the lab. Just…let’s see where it goes.”

And for once, you’re not sure how to say no.

It all starts with a simple suggestion from Tony: “Let’s grab dinner.” He says it casually, like it’s no big deal, like he doesn’t have his heart hammering in his chest, waiting for your reaction. He suggests a little place he “happens” to know, one that he swears has the best food in New York. And somehow, you agree. Maybe because he calls it a “work dinner.” Maybe because you tell yourself it’s not a date.

When you meet him in the lobby, you’re wrapped up in a scarf and peacoat, your hair loose, casual. You don’t look nervous, but Tony notices the way you glance around, adjusting the strap of your bag, as if double-checking that this really is work-related. He plays it off, putting his hands in his pockets, trying to appear as calm as you do, even though he’s never cared so much about a single dinner before.

The place he picked is upscale but cozy, full of candlelight and quiet jazz that hums in the background. He watches as you scan the menu, oblivious to his attention on you, fully absorbed. It’s refreshing; you’re genuinely curious about what’s on the menu, unbothered by the scene he knows he can make in places like this. Normally, dinner with Tony Stark comes with a string of expectations and eyes on him—but tonight, he’s glad it’s just the two of you, tucked in a corner booth, your focus solely on him.

“So,” he starts, leaning back in his seat, “tell me: where did Dr. Wu find you? I don’t meet many people who can keep me on my toes the way you do.”

You shrug, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Dr. Wu and I met at MIT. He’s probably the only person who could make me feel like I didn’t know enough in a single afternoon.”

Tony laughs. He knows exactly what you mean. “Sounds like Wu, alright. So, what did he think when you said you were coming to work for me?”

Your smile widens, eyes dancing with amusement. “He said, ‘You might be the first person who isn’t charmed by him within five minutes.’ I think he was worried for your ego.”

Tony grins, holding his drink in the air. “To deflated egos.”

You clink glasses, and as you sip, he wonders how long he can keep himself in check, how long he can keep this light, keep it casual, without betraying how much he’s starting to feel for you. Because while this may have started as a silly bet—a challenge to make you fall for him—now it’s… different. He’s starting to look forward to these moments with you more than he expected. He isn’t sure when his own bet began to backfire, but he can feel it, slipping slowly out of his control.

Over the next few weeks, “work dinners” become a regular thing. No one in the lab says anything, but he knows Bruce has noticed, if the amused glances he sends Tony’s way are anything to go by. Every time Tony catches one, he just shrugs it off. He’s Tony Stark, after all. If he wants to grab dinner with his research assistant, it’s not anyone else’s business. And anyway, you don’t seem to mind.

The second “not-a-date” is Italian, at a small, family-owned spot he tells you he’s been “dying to try.” The third is sushi, which he’s surprised to learn you’ve only had once before. By the time the fourth rolls around, he notices you’ve stopped checking your watch. He takes it as a good sign, even though he’s not entirely sure why he cares so much.

After that, the “work dinners” turn into outings outside the lab, outings that don’t need any excuse. He brings you to an art exhibit that’s in town for a limited time, pretending he’s only taking you because he “figured you might find it interesting.” But really, he just wants an excuse to see you outside the sterile lights of the lab, wants to see how you react to something that isn’t made of metal and wires. When he watches your eyes widen at a particular piece, the way you study the brushstrokes with an intent focus, he has to swallow back a smile. He feels like he’s seeing you through a different lens, realizing how much depth there is to you, beyond the research and the numbers.

At the end of the night, he offers to walk you home, hands in his pockets to keep himself from offering his arm or some other foolish gesture. He catches himself hoping you’ll ask him to stay, to come in for a cup of coffee, maybe—but you just smile and thank him, and he feels an odd, unexpected ache when he watches you disappear up the stairs.

A few weeks later, Tony starts noticing something that surprises even him. When he sits in the lab with you, he’s not thinking about the project. He’s thinking about whether you’ve eaten lunch, whether you’ve taken any breaks, or even just whether you’ll smile at him when you catch him watching you. It’s frustrating, and it’s exhilarating, and for the first time, he feels like he’s the one chasing, the one on the hook.

One Friday night, he texts you out of the blue.

Tony Are you up for a drink?

Your response comes a few minutes later, and it makes him laugh.

You Tony, do you even know what ‘taking a break’ means?

He grins at his phone, knowing he’s won already.

Tony Well, there’s a first time for everything. Pick you up in 20.

Twenty minutes later, he’s outside your building, leaning against his car, watching the door with more anticipation than he’ll admit. You step out, looking a little surprised that he actually showed up. He swallows hard when he sees you in casual clothes—jeans, a sweater, hair falling loosely over your shoulders.

“Ready?” he asks, gesturing to the car with a small smile.

You nod, glancing down as you climb in. “Where are we going?”

He smirks. “Somewhere that’ll knock MIT’s socks off.”

He takes you to a rooftop bar with a stunning view of the city skyline, all twinkling lights and distant music. It’s beautiful, quiet, and for once, he doesn’t feel the urge to be Tony Stark, the billionaire genius. He just wants to be Tony, the guy who’s with you, wondering what you’re thinking as you look out over the city.

After a couple of drinks, he tells you stories—wild, outlandish ones from his younger days, stories about his first ridiculous inventions, and even a few that make you laugh so hard you nearly spill your drink. When he sees you laugh like that, unguarded and completely at ease, something in his chest feels tight, like he’s in over his head.

You lean on the railing, arms crossed, glancing over at him with a bemused smile. “So tell me,” you say, your voice soft, “was this what you had in mind with that bet?”

He blinks, caught off guard, and he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly? I didn’t expect to be the one falling for you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Your eyes widen, and he feels a thrill when he sees the faint color that rises in your cheeks. “You… what?”

There’s no going back now. He might as well lay it all out, admit it to you—and to himself. “Yeah,” he says, voice low and serious. “I fell for you somewhere along the way, MIT. Bet or no bet.”

You look at him, the city lights casting a warm glow over your face, and he wonders if you’ll walk away, if you’ll call him crazy, if you’ll tell him he’s crossed a line. But you don’t. You don’t say anything; instead, you just look at him, your gaze soft and questioning, as if you’re wondering how long he’s felt this way.

“So,” you say finally, voice quiet, “what does that mean for us?”

Tony smiles, surprised at how easily the words come. “It means I want this—want us—to be real. No games, no bets.” He pauses, letting the weight of his words settle between you. “If you want that, too.”

For a moment, you’re quiet, studying him, and he feels his heart racing, terrified that you’ll say no. But then you smile, a small, genuine smile that makes his heart feel like it’s about to explode.

“Alright,” you say softly. “Let’s see where this goes. No bets.”

From that night on, everything changes. Your “work dinners” turn into real dates—walks through Central Park, late-night coffees at quiet cafes, dinners at small, hidden places around the city. You both take it slow, careful, as if afraid to break whatever fragile thing is forming between you. But each night, when he drops you off at your door, he feels the pull, the urge to kiss you goodnight, to keep you close. And one night, he does.

It’s late, the city quiet around you, and as you turn to go inside, he can’t help himself. He reaches out, his fingers brushing yours, and when you look up at him, he leans down, his heart pounding in his chest. The kiss is gentle, careful, as if he’s afraid of scaring you off, but when you lean into him, his heart nearly stops.

You share inside jokes, stolen glances across the lab, the occasional “business meeting” that turns into hours of conversation about everything and nothing. Tony finds himself waking up each day with a renewed excitement, a sense of something he hasn’t felt in years: hope.

It’s the end of a long week, and somehow, you’ve both ended up in your apartment, the city a quiet hum beyond your windows. The two of you sit on the floor, leaning against the couch with a few empty wine glasses scattered around the table. You’ve got the TV on, and Tony managed to find a fake fireplace video with gentle crackling and flickering flames that cast warm, golden light around the room. It’s ridiculous, yet somehow perfect—a nod to that cliché romance neither of you ever thought you’d be in.

But here you are.

The quiet between you has a certain electricity, a kind of unspoken tension neither of you wants to name yet, though it’s impossible to ignore. Every so often, Tony’s knee brushes yours, or his shoulder leans just a little closer, and you feel the thrill of it like the first time, every time.

“So,” he says, breaking the silence, the familiar mischievous spark in his eyes. “What are we, exactly?”

You chuckle, glancing down at your glass, buying time with a sip of wine. “You mean… officially?”

He nods, his eyes warm but serious, searching yours. “Yeah. Officially.”

You tilt your head, feigning thoughtfulness, though you know exactly where this conversation is headed. “Well, I’d say we’re… colleagues.”

“Colleagues?” he scoffs, feigning offense. “You call this colleague behavior?” He gestures to the two of you, to the cozy setup that feels miles away from the cold lab. The corners of his mouth quirk up as he raises his eyebrows. “Would you share a fake fireplace with just anyone?”

You roll your eyes, laughing, and he leans a little closer, that soft, teasing look in his eyes. There’s something else in his gaze, though, something that’s been there since the beginning but has only grown stronger.

“Alright, fine,” you concede. “Maybe we’re… dating.”

His eyes light up at that, his grin widening. “Dating, huh? I like that. But it still sounds… I don’t know. Casual?”

You raise an eyebrow, your heart thudding just a bit faster. “Oh? So what do you want to call it, then, Mr. Stark?”

He shifts closer, his fingers tracing absentmindedly along the edge of his wine glass, his gaze fixed intently on you. “How about… ‘together’? Just you and me. Not just a bet or a fling. The real thing.” His voice drops, softer, more earnest than you’ve ever heard it. “I want this to be… official.”

Your breath hitches, and you can feel that tension building between you, thickening the air. “You really want that?” you ask, voice barely a whisper.

He leans closer, his hand brushing against yours, warm and sure. “I think I’ve wanted it since day one. I just didn’t know it yet.”

His hand covers yours now, fingers intertwining, and the feel of his touch sends a shiver through you, every nerve ending suddenly on high alert. You hold his gaze, your heartbeat thundering in your ears, and the space between you feels charged, as if there’s something there that neither of you can ignore any longer.

“Then… I guess we’re together,” you whisper, feeling the weight of it settle over you, thrilling and terrifying all at once.

Tony’s gaze darkens, and before you can say anything else, he closes the distance between you. His lips find yours, soft and seeking at first, but within seconds, the kiss deepens, the unspoken tension between you sparking into something electric. His hand comes up to cup your face, pulling you closer, and you feel the heat of him, the intensity that has simmered under the surface for so long finally released.

You’re barely aware of anything else as you both shift, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his lap as his mouth moves over yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. You lose track of time, of the fake fire flickering in the background, of anything but the way his hands feel on your skin, the way he holds you like he’s afraid to let you go.

His hands drift along your back, finding the hem of your shirt, and you feel a thrill as he slips his hands under the fabric, his touch warm and tantalizing against your bare skin. Your breath hitches as he trails kisses down your jaw, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just beneath your ear.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire, but his gaze filled with that same warmth, that tenderness that’s made you fall for him in ways you never expected.

You nod, pulling him closer, feeling a confidence and certainty that surprises you. “I’ve never been more sure.”

That’s all he needs. In a swift, smooth motion, he picks you up, carrying you toward the bedroom, his mouth finding yours again, and any last shred of hesitation disappears. He lays you down gently, his hands exploring, learning every inch of you as though he’s memorizing you, cherishing every moment. His lips trace a path down your neck, his breath hot against your skin, and you feel a thrill with every touch, every kiss, as if he’s igniting something within you that’s been waiting for him all along.

The night unfolds slowly, a delicious, intoxicating blur of touch and heat, a feeling of being completely and utterly consumed. Tony takes his time, savoring each moment, and with every touch, every whispered word, you feel yourself falling deeper, letting go of every last barrier. You’ve never felt so seen, so cherished, as you do with him, and by the time dawn breaks, you’re tangled together, breathless and completely, irrevocably his.

As the first light of morning filters in, he pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you, his breath warm against your neck. For the first time, you let yourself relax into him fully, feeling that familiar warmth, that safety that only he can give.

And as you drift off to sleep, wrapped up in his arms, you know that whatever label you put on this, it’s real.

You wake up to sunlight filtering through your curtains, a golden glow spilling across your bedroom. The warmth beside you, steady and comforting, reminds you of the night before. Tony’s arm is draped over you, his breathing soft and even. For a moment, you just lie there, letting yourself savor the stillness, the unexpected joy of waking up next to him.

As if sensing you’re awake, Tony stirs, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your shoulder. He opens his eyes, and a sleepy, boyish grin spreads across his face.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, voice husky with sleep.

“Good morning,” you reply, smiling back. There’s something so soft in his gaze that it takes you by surprise. “I could get used to this,” he adds, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

You open your mouth to respond, but something nags at you—a fleeting thought that hits you like a cold splash of water. You glance at your alarm clock, and your eyes widen. “Oh no.”

“What?” Tony asks, still drowsy.

“We’re late,” you say, panic rising as you sit up. “We were supposed to be in the lab… half an hour ago!”

Tony’s eyes go wide. “Well, damn.” He runs a hand through his hair and laughs, but there’s urgency in his movements as he jumps out of bed. “Okay, so the lab, yeah? We can do this. Ten minutes and we’re there.”

In a flurry of movement, you both scramble to find your clothes. You pull on yesterday’s jeans and a shirt while Tony is somehow in his button-down and jacket in record time, still flashing that devil-may-care grin.

“Keys?” he asks, scanning the room like he’s trying to disarm a bomb.

You grab them from your nightstand, and in no time, you’re out the door, hurrying down the street to Stark Tower, laughing breathlessly at the absurdity of it all.

By the time you reach the lab, you’re both slightly out of breath, looking about as ruffled as you feel. You barely have time to steady yourself before the doors slide open and reveal Bruce, who glances up from his tablet with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, look who decided to join us,” he says, smirking just a little. His gaze shifts between the two of you, and you can feel him taking in the unmissable signs: Tony’s rumpled hair, your hastily buttoned shirt, and that lingering, unmistakable glow of… well, more than friendship.

“Sorry, Bruce,” you start, trying to sound casual as you lean over a workbench, flipping through some notes. “I, uh… I was doing things.”

Before you can stop him, Tony slides right up beside you, throwing in his signature smirk. “I am things.”

There’s a moment of silence before Bruce’s mouth falls open, the sheer shock plastered on his face.

“Oh,” Bruce manages, blinking like he’s trying to process what he’s just heard. “Oh, wow. Well, that’s… not the explanation I was expecting.”

Tony wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Surprised, Banner? Even geniuses have hearts, you know.”

Bruce shakes his head, but he’s grinning now, a mixture of amusement and something almost like pride. “I think the word you’re looking for, Tony, is priorities.”

You and Tony exchange a look, trying not to burst into laughter.

“So,” Bruce says, raising an eyebrow as he folds his arms, “am I supposed to welcome you to the lab as a couple now? Is that what’s happening?”

Tony glances at you, his expression softening. “Yeah, Bruce,” he says, voice filled with more warmth than usual. “That’s exactly what’s happening.”

Bruce groans but nods, resigned to the fact that the lab—and maybe all of Stark Tower—will never be the same. “Great. Just… try not to be late again tomorrow. Some of us still take the work schedule seriously.”

I love rom-com style, makes me so happy to write it <3 If you liked the story don't forget to leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!

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annachum · 5 days ago

Text

Star Lord and Gamora of the Narrow Seas

Star Lord

Star Lord of the Narrow Seas is the brash and flamboyant captain of the Narrow Seas Pirates. Raised in the ways of pirate life by his adopted father Yondu, Star Lord knows the seas at the back of his hand. Yet he also cherishes his found family of his crew. He also loves dancing, poetry and feasts

I imagine Star Lord often dressing like medieval versions of Captain Hook and Jack Sparrow in spades in this

Gamora of the Narrow Seas

The fearless and composed Gamora is the co captain of The Narrow Sea Pirates. Being also the eventual girlfriend and later wife of Star Lord, she is also a Mother Hen of the rambunctious bunch of Pirates. She also adopts Groot and she and Star Lord raised him as their own son.

I imagine her often dressing like Medieval versions of Angelina Teach and Elizabeth Swann in spades

#a song of marvel and metals #star lord #gamora

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anifever · 7 months ago

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can you pls do an outsiders x Nerdy fem reader? Like, braces boy band fangirl who rants about comics type. Would rather have it being Curtis sister reader but you can do whatever, tyy <33

Gang w/ a Nerdy!Reader ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The Outsiders x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : The Curtis gang with a nerdy reader

A/N : This is kinda bad bcs I get unmotivated to write sometimes but I swear I’m trying omg. Also I didn’t do Curtis sister simply so it’d be more ambiguous, sorry 💔 Anyways this is literally me except I just don’t have braces anymore

˖⁺‧₊˚ 👓 ˚₊‧⁺˖

Darry

୨ You cut pics of The Rolling Stones members, etc out of the newspapers he reads and keep them

୨ He’s confused at first then he’s like “Oh..” when he realizes what’s happening- he doesn’t mind tho

୨ You write the dumbest little notes/pickup lines and put them in his lunch bag for work

୨ He doesn’t understand most of them but he likes them regardless

୨ He read comics here and there when he was a kid, but he definitely doesn’t anymore 😭

୨ He’s always arguing with Pony about those things and just doesn’t really get it

୨ Even though he doesn’t understand yours and Pony’s infatuation with stuff like that, he thinks it’s nice you’re able to bond with each other over it

୨ At some point you convince him to watch one of your favorite sci-fi type tv shows with you whenever he isn’t busy

୨ It’s a pipeline of him saying he doesn’t like it, pretending he doesn’t like it, then being really invested in it

୨ Anyways, even if your interests don’t exactly line up, you still love each other

୨ You rambling over stuff all the time honestly helps him forget about the stress in his life

Two-Bit

୨ He has no room to talk when his favorite show is still Mickey Mouse at the age of 18 and a half

୨ He thinks it’s cute in an endearing way

୨ He makes fun of you a bit but he doesn’t mean it seriously- that’s just how he is

୨ You guys discuss superheroes together and get way too in depth about it

୨ When he sees your room for the first time there’s like little figurines everywhere, etc and he’s just like “Huh, I have that one too” while pointing at the Hulk or something

୨ He doesn’t gaf, at least it’s clean unlike his

୨ If you have braces, he’s absolutely making jokes about it

୨ You’re getting called metal mouth but it’s out of love I promise

୨ He doesn’t let other people make jokes about it though

୨ Like that’s his job!!! Leave his girl alone!!!

୨ This man defends you with his life I’m so serious

୨ Anyways, whenever he gets super drunk and he starts rambling the exact same way you do normally so it sort of evens you out

୨ Idk what else to even say because you both just make so much sense- it seems so obvious

Steve

୨ I hate to say it, but he calls you brace-face

୨ Ironic because he needs some himself!!! 😊

୨ You said something along those lines to him once and he was so caught off guard and offended

୨ Even though he’s a smartass and you’d figure he’d be mean abt it, I feel like he’s probably kinda the same as you- at least when he was younger

୨ Bro knows his DC and Marvel lore

୨ You guys are constantly re-watching ‘Godzilla’ together

୨ There’s probably a picture of him from when he was younger dressed as it for Halloween or something too

୨ You have made him go to a concert with you

୨ He didn’t even really care about you freaking out over the guys, he was more upset that you chose The Beach Boys of all people

୨ He considers it “Soc music”

୨ You most likely don’t understand anything about cars

୨ He could sit there for hours trying to explain stuff to you and it just won’t click

୨ He’s like “How can you remember every fucking Beach Boys song but not what an exhaust does??”

୨ Okay you probably aren’t that dense but still

Dallas

୨ Yeahhh, he’s making fun of you

୨ It’s out of love tho 😇 most of the time..

୨ You constantly make references about comics and shows and he has no clue what you’re talking about

୨ You use the word kryptonite around him and he’s like “..What the HELL did you just say to me?”

୨ Most of the things you ramble about, he doesn’t understand, like, at all

୨ Much to his dismay, he can’t help his features from softening when he watches you do it

୨ You definitely gives him a break from all the reckless crazy stuff he does

୨ You use so many big words (they usually aren’t that crazy) and he’s just like “Could you speak English?”

୨ When he first went inside your room, it was covered in posters from movies like ‘Dracula,’ ‘Creature from the Black Lagoon,’ ‘Psycho,’ ‘Frankenstein,’ ‘The Birds,’ etc

୨ At first he was like “Jesus…” but really he thought it was pretty cool

୨ You guys are horror movie enjoyers⁉️

୨ You’re probably more of a geek over them than he is, but it’s just barely (he’d never admit it)

Soda

୨ You definitely fangirl over The Beatles and it lowkey hurts his feelings

୨ You have to be like “Soda.. you literally look like a movie star why are you worried-”

୨ Yes you know Paul’s blood type, time of birth, and who his fourth cousin twice removed is; so what? 🙄

୨ Knowledge-wise you balance each other out

୨ You have amazing grades in all your classes and he’s dropped out 🤍 but on the other hand, you are not very street smart

୨ Like if you have a gun held to your head, let’s hope they’ll ask you trivia about ‘The Twilight Zone’ for your freedom

୨ Anyways, he tries to keep up with and understand the stuff you talk about

୨ Give him time 💔 he’s trying

୨ He probably already knows a bit from having grown up with Pony, but it’s still nothing crazy

୨ He carries around extra wax for your braces in his pocket in case they ever start hurting you (idk if they were invented yet in the 60’s but let’s pretend)

୨ Throws wrenches and things like that at Steve if he says stuff about you

୨ You get pretty insecure since he’s so popular with girls and they usually aren’t like you; but he’s always reassuring you over it

Johnny

୨ You guys read comics together

୨ He’s a spider-man lover and I’ll die on this hill

୨ Someone write Johnny Cade spider-man au rn

୨ He’s constantly telling Dallas to “lay off” when he says stuff about you

୨ Finds your braces cute- he thinks they just add to your charm

୨ Anything that helps him somewhat escape reality, he enjoys; he gladly talks about nerdy stuff with you

୨ He gets along with Pony so well and he has most of those interests, and it’s the same way with you

୨ You guys sit in the lot and stargaze constantly; each time you point out and name the constellations along with explaining their backstories

୨ He listens with a fond smile on his face every time

୨ He thinks it’s cool you’re able to remember all of that

୨ You’re both just so cute I’m crying

୨ Whenever he comes over, he always admires the figures, posters, books, etc you have around your room

Pony

୨ Idc his ass is also a nerd

୨ Maybe not in the exact ways you are, but he definitely still is

୨ You help him in certain classes he’s not doing well in which he is extremely thankful for

୨ You guys also read comics together 😋

୨ Usually you make him read them out loud though since you love his voice and also think he’s good at the sound effects

୨ That being said, you both give each other book recommendations

୨ You guys go to the drive-in/theater together constantly and have heavy debriefings over all of the movies (mainly the sci-fi ones)

୨ You guys are both big fans of Elvis

୨ He’s a fan music-wise, you’re a fan of literally everything

୨ You’ve seen every single one of his movies. Multiple times.

୨ Definitely makes him a little jealous but he tells himself it’s not a big deal

୨ He can’t even be mad at you geeking out when he preforms on TV, he understands

୨ All that being said, you guys actually go really well together

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