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mintyys-blog · 12 days ago

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BRAT TAMER— dark! bucky barnes x brat! stark! reader

WARNINGS: alcohol, suggestive scenes, age gap, power imbalance, brat behaviour, dark themes, tramp stamp, harassment, swearing, SMUT.

MINORS DNI

You knew exactly what you were doing.

The moment you stepped into the Avengers Tower, heels clicking against the pristine marble floors, every pair of eyes flicked to you. Not that you cared. In fact, you reveled in it. The attention. The annoyance. The way your father, Tony Stark, ran a hand down his face the second he saw your outfit—if it could even be called that.

A tiny crop top, barely-there shorts, and heels that made your legs look like they went on forever.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered under his breath.

You smirked, flicking your hair over your shoulder as you waltzed past him like you owned the place. “Daddy, that’s not a very warm welcome,” you pouted. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

Tony exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “Do you ever dress appropriately? Just once?”

You scoffed. “What’s the fun in that?”

Truthfully, you liked pushing his buttons. You’d been doing it for years, and it never got old. Tony Stark, billionaire genius, could handle aliens, mad scientists, and world-ending threats—but his own daughter? A nightmare in designer heels.

“Where’s Morgan?” you asked, though you didn’t really care.

“In her room. And don’t—”

Too late. You were already walking in that direction.

Tony sighed, shooting a look at Steve and Bucky, who had been watching the interaction silently. “I don’t know what to do with her.”

Bucky’s stare lingered as you disappeared down the hallway. You had that effect on people—especially men. And you knew it.

Morgan adored you.

Which was the problem.

She was ten, all wide eyes and admiration, soaking up every little thing you did like a sponge. And Tony? He hated it.

You sat on her bed, lazily scrolling through your phone as she rattled on about school, her friends, some dumb science project Tony was helping her with. You weren’t really listening.

“Can I do my hair like yours?” Morgan asked suddenly, eyes shining with hope.

You smirked. “You wanna be like me, huh?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

Tony’s voice cut through the room like a blade. “No, she doesn’t.”

You looked up to find him standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “Morgan, go get ready for dinner,” he said firmly.

Morgan hesitated, looking between the two of you before reluctantly nodding and slipping out of the room.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s the influence you don’t want?”

Tony stepped inside, lowering his voice. “I mean it, Y/N. She looks up to you. I won’t let you screw her up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Relax, Dad. I’m not telling her to go rob a bank.”

“No, but you are showing up dressed like that,” he shot back. “Parading around like you have no responsibilities, blowing through money like it’s endless—”

“Isn’t it?” you cut in, smirking.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, kid. I don’t know what to do with you.”

“Nothing,” you said simply, standing up and stretching, the hem of your top riding up just to be provocative. “Because I don’t live under your roof anymore, remember?”

You walked past him, brushing against his shoulder as you left.

And just like that, you were gone.

Later that night, Bucky found you at the bar.

You were perched on a stool, sipping a martini, legs crossed, eyes scanning the room like a predator looking for prey.

He slid onto the stool beside you, silent at first. You noticed him, of course. How could you not? He was hard to ignore—tall, broad, that metal arm glinting under the dim lights.

“Well, well,” you mused, tilting your head. “Didn’t take you for a bar kind of guy.”

Bucky shrugged, eyes flickering over your outfit. “Didn’t take you for the kind of girl who needs attention to survive.”

You grinned. “Oh, but I do. What’s life without a little fun?”

“Fun,” Bucky repeated, tone unreadable. “That what you’re looking for?”

You leaned in slightly, resting your elbow on the bar, chin propped in your hand. “Depends. You offering?”

His jaw tensed. You were pushing. Flirting. Teasing. And you knew it was working.

“You think this is a game?” he asked, voice low.

You smirked. “Isn’t it?”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Careful, sweetheart.”

You arched a brow. “Or what?”

He didn’t answer. Just took a sip of his drink, eyes lingering on you.

Breaking the Brat

Part Two

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Stark!Brat!Reader

Warnings: Dark themes, age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, bratty behavior, suggestive themes. Slow burn.

Bucky didn’t play your game.

That was the first thing that set him apart from the others.

Most men—especially the older ones—were predictable. Easy to manipulate. A bat of your lashes, a sultry smile, a teasing touch, and they’d trip over themselves to get what you wanted.

But Bucky? He saw right through it.

And that? That made you want to play even more.

“Not much of a talker, huh?” You leaned in, close enough that your perfume lingered between you. “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”

Bucky glanced at you, unimpressed. “You really think you’re a challenge?”

You pouted. “Aw, that’s cute. You think I’m easy?”

He huffed out a quiet laugh. “I think you’re loud. And desperate for attention.”

Your smirk didn’t falter. “And yet, here you are, giving it to me.”

Bucky didn’t answer. He just took another sip of his drink, jaw tight.

That’s what intrigued you the most.

He wanted to say something. Wanted to snap, to put you in your place. You could see it in his eyes. The restraint. The discipline. It was a game of tug-of-war, and you were determined to win.

“So, tell me,” you mused, twirling the olive in your martini between your fingers. “What does a guy like you do for fun?”

Bucky didn’t blink. “Nothing you’d survive.”

A thrill shot through you.

“You don’t know what I can handle,” you said, licking the martini off your lips.

His gaze flickered there, just for a second. A small victory.

Then, he downed the rest of his drink and stood.

“Go home, kid.”

Kid.

The word sent a rush of irritation through you.

You weren’t a kid. You were a woman. A woman who could make grown men fall at her feet. A woman who could ruin a man if she wanted to.

And yet, Bucky Barnes just brushed you off like an inconvenience.

How dare he?

You watched him walk away, the muscles in his back flexing under his shirt. He didn’t turn around. Didn’t give you the satisfaction.

For the first time in a long time, you felt something foreign settle in your chest.

Frustration.

The next few weeks were fun.

For you, anyway.

You pushed. Bucky ignored. You flirted. He scoffed. You touched, teased, invaded his space—nothing.

He was a wall. Unshakable. Unmoved.

It only made you worse.

You made sure to wear the shortest skirts when you knew he was around. The highest heels. The tightest tops. You batted your lashes, brushed your fingers against his arm, pressed close to whisper things that weren’t exactly appropriate.

Still, nothing.

But you weren’t an amateur at this game.

Men had limits. And you were going to find his.

Tony had given up on you. Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” he groaned, rubbing his temples as you scrolled through your phone.

“What now?” You didn’t bother looking up.

“You know exactly what. Do I need to spell it out? The credit card charges. The tabloids. The—” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “The fucking tramp stamp!”

You smirked, tilting your head. “You like it?”

Tony clenched his jaw. “You got it two hours after I told you not to.”

“Your point?”

He muttered something under his breath before shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do with you, kid.”

Your smirk faltered. There it was again. Kid. First Bucky, now Tony. You weren’t a child.

And you were going to prove it.

That night, you went too far.

And that’s exactly what you wanted.

The compound was quiet. Late. Most of the team had turned in for the night, but you knew Bucky was still awake.

You found him in the gym. Alone.

He was mid-rep, lifting weights that made your arms ache just looking at them.

You leaned against the doorway, watching, a slow smirk tugging at your lips.

“Wow,” you drawled. “Those arms could do some damage.”

Bucky didn’t stop. Didn’t acknowledge you.

You stepped inside, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor.

Nothing.

You let out a dramatic sigh, strutting over to where he stood. “Ignoring me again? Starting to think you don’t like me, Barnes.”

He finished his set, setting the weights down with a quiet thud.

Still, he didn’t look at you.

You stepped closer, trailing a manicured nail down his metal arm. “I bet you could wrap this around my throat and snap it like a twig.”

That got him. Bucky’s head snapped toward you, eyes dark.

Oh, that was satisfying.

“You wanna test that theory?” His voice was low. Dangerous. A shiver ran through you. You weren’t stupid. You knew when you were poking a bear. But that was half the fun.

“I dunno,” you mused, pressing closer. “Might be fun.”

Bucky exhaled slowly. You could practically see him forcing himself to relax.

Then, he turned and walked away. Just like that. No reaction. No anger. No fire.

It was… disappointing. Until he spoke.

“You should be careful, Y/N.” You frowned. “Of what?”

Bucky stopped at the door, back still to you. “Of what happens when I finally stop holding back.” Then, he was gone.

You stood there for a long moment, staring after him. And for the first time, your smirk faded. Because for the first time, you wondered… Had you finally pushed too far?

It had been a week since Bucky’s warning. A week of silence.

You were used to attention—hell, you craved it—but this was different. The absence of Bucky’s usual snarky responses, his cold stares, his barely-contained tension—it was unsettling. You found yourself looking for him more than you cared to admit. You’d cornered Tony about it. “Where’s Bucky? He’s been MIA.”

Tony didn’t even look up from his work. “I don’t know. Probably avoiding you.”

“Really?” you asked, leaning against the counter. “You think so?”

Tony finally glanced up, his eyes tired but sharp. “Look, kid. I get it. He’s a good guy, but I’m not letting you run around playing your little games with him. Bucky’s not your usual prey.”

You scowled, crossing your arms. “I’m not a damn animal, Dad.” Tony didn’t flinch. “You sure about that?”

Two nights later, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

The Tower was dark, quiet—everyone else was either gone or asleep. You knew Bucky would be up, alone, in the gym. He was predictable like that.

You stood in front of your mirror, inspecting yourself.

A tight black leather jacket, a low-cut tank top that barely covered your chest, and black ripped jeans. Nothing too out there, but enough to make a statement.

Perfect.

You made your way down the long hallway, heels tapping softly on the floors, feeling the familiar rush of power as you approached the gym.

And there he was.

Bucky was lifting weights, his movements precise and fluid, his concentration unwavering. He hadn’t noticed you yet, so you took the chance to observe.

He was different tonight. His body was tense, his jaw set as he worked through each set like a machine. But it was more than that. There was something in his eyes—something predatory.

And it made you want to push him.

You sauntered into the room, your presence noticeable, but Bucky didn’t look up. He kept going, each lift smoother than the last, each breath steady and controlled.

It was like you weren’t even there.

You didn’t like that.

“Why so serious?” you purred, stepping closer, your voice dripping with a flirtation you didn’t bother to hide.

Bucky paused for a moment, finally glancing at you. But he didn’t respond.

You took it as a challenge.

“You know,” you continued, sliding your hands down your sides provocatively, “if you need some motivation, I could give you a reason to work a little harder.”

Bucky didn’t move. He just stared at you, his gaze unreadable.

“Come on, Barnes,” you cooed, moving closer, your breath warm against the cool air of the gym. “What’s it going to take to get a rise out of you?”

This time, he spoke. His voice was low and measured, like a warning. “You’re treading on thin ice, Y/N.”

You smirked. “I like the danger.”

Bucky finally set the weights down, his movements slow but purposeful. He stepped toward you, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place—anger? Frustration? Or something more?

“Last warning, kid,” he muttered, grabbing your wrist before you could react, his grip firm but controlled.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “What are you going to do if I don’t listen, huh? Hit me?”

He didn’t answer right away. His breathing was steady, but you could feel the tension in his body. It was palpable, like a string pulled tight, waiting to snap.

“I warned you,” Bucky growled, voice gravelly.

Before you could respond, he spun you around, pinning you against the wall with a force that made your breath catch.

And there it was—the raw, unfiltered power.

You knew you were pushing him, but this time, you didn’t care.

“You’re playing with fire, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft, but laced with a dangerous edge. “And I don’t think you fully understand the consequences.”

You couldn’t help yourself. “Try me.”

Bucky leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You won’t like the outcome.”

But you weren’t listening. You never were.

You let your fingers trail down his chest, teasing the edges of his shirt, pressing yourself closer to him. “You can’t tell me what to do,” you said softly, letting the challenge hang between you like a spark waiting to ignite.

His hand tightened on your wrist, pulling you away from the wall and turning you to face him fully. His blue eyes were dark, unreadable, like an ocean storm waiting to break.

“You think I’m just going to let you walk all over me?” His voice dropped an octave, as if he were tasting every word. “That’s where you’re wrong, Y/N.”

You swallowed, feeling the heat rising between you, the crackling tension unmistakable. For the first time, you saw something in his eyes that made your heart skip—a flicker of something dangerous. And it made you want more.

“You think you can handle me?” you whispered, your lips inches from his. Without warning, Bucky kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was fierce—passionate, like he was claiming what was his. And you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, but the fire in his gaze only intensified. “You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he warned, his voice dark with intent.

You stared at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I do.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. And when you get burned, don’t come crying to me.” You shrugged, unfazed. “I’ll take my chances.”

The next morning, you barely slept.

Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Bucky’s cold, intense stare—the way his hand had felt on your wrist, the heat of his lips against yours.

It wasn’t the first time you’d kissed someone with that much force, but it was the first time you felt… controlled.

And you hated it.

You didn’t like being controlled. You liked to be in charge. Always.

So why did the feeling linger? Why did the thought of Bucky’s hands on you—firm, unrelenting—cause a flutter in your chest?

You shook the thought away, brushing your hair back as you stood in front of the mirror. It was just a kiss. Just a moment. You didn’t need to make it anything more.

You picked out an outfit: a tight red dress with a plunging neckline, heels high enough to make your legs look longer than they were. You liked the way the dress clung to your curves, the way it accentuated everything Bucky had noticed last night.

This was a power play. A challenge. And Bucky? He was your target. You stormed out of your room, determined to confront him.

The gym was quiet again when you entered, the hum of the equipment filling the silence. You saw Bucky, of course. He was always here, always training, always keeping to himself. But today, he didn’t look at you when you walked in.

Not at first.

You could feel the tension radiating off him, though. He could feel you, even without looking. The game hadn’t ended last night—it had only just begun.

You walked toward him, a calculated sway in your hips. You made sure to stop just behind him, letting the scent of your perfume reach his nose, just close enough that he couldn’t ignore your presence any longer.

“Morning, Bucky,” you said, leaning over slightly, letting the fabric of your dress stretch just enough to make him notice.

He stopped mid-set, his fingers wrapping around the barbell before he set it down. Slowly, deliberately, he turned to face you. His gaze was icy, but there was something more there now—a flicker of something darker. Something that told you he wasn’t as indifferent as he wanted to be.

“What do you want?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it.

You grinned, stepping closer. “I thought we could talk.”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. “About what?”

You smirked, leaning in a little closer, lowering your voice to a whisper. “About last night.”

His jaw clenched. “I told you, Y/N—”

“You told me a lot of things.” You interrupted, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. “But you didn’t tell me you’d be so rough. So… possessive.”

He grabbed your wrist before you could pull away, his grip firm but not painful. “You’re pushing it,” he warned, his tone deadly serious now.

“Am I?” You tilted your head, pretending to be innocent, but you saw the way his eyes flashed, the tension in his body that told you he was on the edge. “I think you like it, Bucky. I think you like the challenge.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his hold on your wrist tightening slightly. He didn’t let go, not yet. “Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.”

A small laugh escaped your lips. “Oh, Bucky,” you teased, tracing your fingers down his chest slowly, “I don’t think I’m going to regret anything.”

This time, when you looked up at him, there was no teasing in your gaze. There was only a challenge. A dare.

Bucky looked at you for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with each breath, like he was trying to calm himself. Then, slowly, he released your wrist.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he muttered. “And I don’t think you realize just how dangerous it is.”

You stepped back, keeping your eyes on him. “I can handle danger.”

Bucky stared at you, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something dark, something possessive, something that made your heart race.

But then it was gone, replaced by the cold mask he usually wore.

“Keep pushing, Y/N,” he said, his voice low, his tone deadly serious. “And I’ll make sure you regret it.”

You smiled sweetly, tilting your head. “I’m counting on it.”

The next few days were a blur.

Bucky was everywhere you went. He was there when you went to the gym, there when you walked past the training room, there when you entered the kitchen. He wasn’t exactly following you, but he was always within your sight. Always within your reach.

And it drove you crazy.

You didn’t get what it was. You didn’t get why he was always near, always present. He wasn’t ignoring you anymore, but he wasn’t giving you the satisfaction either. He was… patient.

And that was something you weren’t used to.

You tried everything. You wore the sexiest outfits. You made flirtatious comments. You pushed every button you knew would make him snap.

But Bucky just watched you. Always watchful. Always calm.

The lack of reaction was maddening.

But it was that last night—when you were so tired of being ignored—that you decided to confront him. You were done waiting.

The Tower was empty again, except for you and Bucky. You knew he’d be in the gym again—he always was.

When you walked in, you didn’t say a word. You just walked up to him, grabbed his collar, and kissed him.

It was desperate. It was messy.

It was exactly what you wanted.

Bucky froze for a moment, not expecting it, but when he didn’t pull away, when he kissed you back with an intensity that sent shockwaves through your body, you realized—maybe this time, you weren’t the one in control.

Bucky’s hands gripped your arms, but he didn’t pull you away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his lips moving with more force than you were used to, his hands now roaming, pulling you closer.

When he pulled away, his eyes were dark, and his voice was low, husky. “I warned you, Y/N.”

You smirked, feeling a rush of power. “Yeah, well, I don’t listen.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile, but there was no humor in it. “You will. Eventually.”

Breaking the Brat

Part Six

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Stark!Brat!Reader

Warnings: Dark themes, age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, bratty behavior, suggestive themes. Slow burn.

The days following that night felt like a tightrope walk—one wrong move, and you would fall. But there was something intoxicating about it. Bucky had made it clear he was done tolerating your behavior, but the power dynamic between you both had shifted. There was no going back, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

Bucky didn’t let things slide, though. You could feel his presence everywhere you went, like a constant reminder of your recklessness. His eyes followed you. The way he looked at you, all sharp edges and unspoken threats, had you on edge in ways you never imagined.

The next time you saw him, you weren’t sure how things would play out. It was a casual party at Tony’s mansion, the kind of event that usually left you feeling invincible. But tonight, something was different. Bucky had been quieter than usual, lurking in the background, watching you as you flitted from one person to another. You could feel his gaze, like a weight on your back. But you weren’t going to let it bother you. You were untouchable, weren’t you?

The music was loud, the room filled with the usual mix of celebrities, billionaires, and socialites. You could already feel your heels digging into the floor as you made your way to the bar, a playful smirk on your lips. You weren’t about to let Bucky’s behavior dictate how you had fun.

But, of course, Bucky was there. Watching. Always watching.

You noticed him in the corner, his posture stiff, his jaw clenched. He was talking to Steve, but his eyes never left you. Every move you made, every glance you cast, every word you said, seemed to send a ripple through him. It was driving you crazy, the way he had this hold on you. You could feel the tension between you both, building like a slow burn.

And then, just like before, you saw him. The older man, tall, graying hair, expensive suit. He was alone at the bar. Perfect.

You walked over, letting the sway of your hips catch his attention. He looked up, eyes widening as they took you in.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he said, his voice smooth, a hint of admiration behind it.

You leaned against the bar, giving him a sly smile. “Just looking for someone to have some fun with. You seem like you might be a good candidate.”

He chuckled, his fingers brushing the rim of his glass as he studied you. “I think I could be persuaded.”

The instant his hand landed on your waist, you knew you had him. He was eating out of your palm, just like you wanted. But then you caught Bucky’s stare from across the room. He was rigid now, his eyes narrowed, his face tense with something that could have been fury—or something worse.

You felt a thrill rush through you.

You led the older man to the couch in the corner, barely glancing back at Bucky. You wanted him to feel it. The jealousy, the frustration, the helplessness. You wanted him to see you as something untouchable, something out of his control.

But before the man could do anything more than adjust his tie, Bucky appeared in front of you, his cold gaze fixed on the older man for a split second before he turned back to you. His voice was sharp, barely contained. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

You looked up at him, your lips curling into an innocent smile, though you could tell from the vein popping in his neck that he wasn’t playing anymore. “I’m not done here yet,” you said, but there was no mistaking the challenge in your tone.

Bucky’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist with enough force to make you gasp. “You don’t get to make that decision.” He jerked you to your feet, dragging you past the man who was still trying to process the sudden intervention.

“Bucky—”

“You think you can flirt your way into whatever you want, don’t you?” His voice was low, each word like a warning. “You think this game is funny, but you’re out of your depth.”

You pulled your wrist from his grip, but the way he was looking at you made you feel cornered, trapped in a way that only fueled your defiance. “Maybe I just like making you mad,” you shot back, not even trying to hide the challenge in your voice.

“Is that it? You get off on making me angry?” His eyes darkened, the tension between you both thickening with each passing second.

You tilted your head, the playful edge in your voice never wavering. “Maybe I do.”

For a brief moment, the two of you just stood there, the silence crackling like a live wire. You could feel the pulse in your throat, the heat building between you both, thick and heavy. But just as quickly, Bucky’s expression shifted.

He grabbed your arm again, this time not in anger, but with a calculated force. He was done with the game.

Without a word, he dragged you to a private room, locking the door behind you. The silence inside felt suffocating, and you could feel the weight of his presence, pressing in on all sides.

“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was harsh, the words coming out through gritted teeth. You leaned against the wall, your arms crossed, still maintaining your playful attitude.

“What? He was just a little older than usual. What’s the harm in flirting with someone who can buy me anything I want?” Bucky’s eyes burned with frustration as he took a step closer, crowding you against the wall.

“The harm is that you’re reckless. That man was old enough to be your father. What the hell are you trying to prove?” You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the tension between you both crackling like electricity. But you weren’t scared—not even a little.

“Are you mad that I wasn’t flirting with you?” You raised an eyebrow, feeling the rush of satisfaction return. You took a step forward, closing the distance between you, and kissed his jaw softly, just enough to leave your lips tingling with the sensation of his skin. Bucky stiffened at the contact, his expression flickering for a moment before his jaw clenched.

“This isn’t a game, Y/N,” he growled. “You think you can toy with me like that? I don’t give a damn about who you’re flirting with, but don’t be reckless.” You smirked, stepping back slightly, letting your fingers trace the collar of his shirt. “So what, you’re going to punish me for having a little fun? You don’t get to control me, Bucky.”

You were too close to him now, too close to that dangerous edge. The way he was looking at you… it was like a warning. You could feel the tension in his body, in the way his hands gripped your wrists like he was trying to anchor himself.

“You’ve made your point, Y/N,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “But you’re not going to keep doing this. Not while I’m around.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall with that same cocky smirk. “And what exactly are you going to do about it?”

Bucky stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You have no idea what you’re messing with.” His voice was tight, every word soaked with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “You think you can keep pushing me? Keep playing games with me? I’m not like the other men you’ve been with.”

You laughed, though there was a nervous tremor behind it. “Oh, I know. You’re different. You’re better.”

His lips curled into a dark smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Better doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate you for much longer.”

And in that moment, something inside you snapped. You pushed off the wall, your hand reaching out to tug at his shirt. “Then make me stop, Bucky,” you whispered, your breath catching in your throat.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate. Then, with a low growl, his lips crashed against yours. It was harsh, unrelenting. His grip on your arms was firm, his body pressing you against the wall as if he were determined to break you.

And, in a way, he was.

Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened. His metal fingers brushed your jaw, cold against your heated skin, a stark contrast to the fire burning between you. His touch wasn’t soft—it was controlling, deliberate.

You should have been scared.

You weren’t.

Instead, you smirked up at him, eyes glittering with mischief, waiting to see how far you could push him. “You gonna lecture me all night, old man, or are you just mad I got someone else’s attention?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. His thumb traced your lower lip again, slower this time, like he was testing something—testing you. “That what you wanted? To make me jealous?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, even as your pulse betrayed you, hammering against your ribs. “Seemed like it worked.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you. His grip on your chin suddenly dropped, only for his hands to find your hips instead. Without warning, he spun you around, pressing your front against the wall. The cold surface met your palms, your breath hitching as he leaned in close, his chest flush against your back.

“You have no idea what you’re playing with, princess,” he murmured against your ear, his voice dangerously low. “You think this is a game? Flirting with men like that, just to get a rise out of me?”

You swallowed hard, though you kept up the act, arching your back slightly, pressing yourself against him just to see how far you could push him. “You make it too easy, Sarge.”

Bucky let out a dark chuckle, but there was no humor in it. His metal hand gripped your waist, fingers pressing into your skin like he was reminding you of the difference between the two of you. “You think you’re untouchable ‘cause you’re a Stark? That daddy’s money keeps you safe?”

You turned your head slightly, your cheek brushing the wall, a defiant glint in your eyes. “So what? You gonna teach me a lesson?”

Bucky’s hand slid lower, gripping your thigh just beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers squeezed, just enough to make your breath catch. “Someone has to,” he muttered, his breath hot against your ear.

The tension crackled between you like a live wire, thick with something neither of you wanted to name. His fingers flexed against your skin, as if he was holding himself back, teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

Then, just as suddenly as he had pressed you against the wall, he pulled back.

You spun around, eyes blazing, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “That’s it?” you taunted, tilting your head. “All that talk, and you’re just gonna walk away?”

Bucky stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, in a voice quieter than before, but twice as dangerous, he said, “who said I was walking away?” The door clicked, signalling it being locked. His dark eyes found yours once more, he closed the space between you both.

His hands were gripping your body, and you pressed your chest into his. Your tongues intertwined and grinding your body against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, he picks you up and sets you on the table, hiking up your dress to your waist. He pauses, “no panties? Naughty girl..” you squeaked when his cold metal fingers dipped inside your warm wet walls.

You gasped his name, as he pumped his fingers continuously. He added another finger, you whined at the stretch “Buck— its s’much”

“Shut up and take it, you were so desperate before now you crumble at my fingers?” He asked mockingly. He sucked on your neck, he didn’t care for being gentle, you didn’t deserve it— and you didn’t want it. You like the roughness, the control he had over you. You squeezed down on his fingers, your body twitching. “You gonna cum doll?” You moaned, “yes”

Right when you were about to he pulled out, staring down at you with a cold look. “Bad girls don’t get to cum. If you want to— beg me.”

Your eyes widened, really? He was making you bed for it? As if!

He resumed pumping his fingers, his other hand wrapped around your throat tightly— not enough to block air restriction. You would feel the knot in your stomach tighten, and right when you were about to cum again— he pulled out. You whined, “bucky..!”

“Beg or you don’t get to cum.”

You glared, not believing him. Until he did it again, and again. He was edging you and you were about to lose your mind. “Please.. bucky”

“Please what,doll?” He smirked, “please let me cum!” Satisfied, he thrust his fingers in once more, finally bringing you to an orgasm. You screamed his name, luckily the loud music outside prevented it from being heard from the party. “Good girl..” he kissed your head as you panted.

Then he flipped you over, pressing your head into the table. “Bucky!” You gasped. He slapped your ass, watching as it ripples. He gently touches the spot that he hit, it slowly turning a red colour. “I know you like that so don’t even try to hide it, doll” you whined once more, and without warning, he thrust inside.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth parts to scream his name. He fucks you senseless, listening as you get cock drunk— to stupid and fucked out to comprehend his words. Degrading you and he occasionally smacked your ass, his hips roughly snapping into yours. He gripped your hair, pulling your head back and pressing your back to his chest. He grabs your head and turns it to face him, kissing your mouth.

You feel yourself slipping, on the verge of climaxing again. “You look so pretty like this, doll” your makeup was smeared, cry’s watery and a bit of droll leaking from your mouth. You cum at his words. He continues thrusting, dropping your hair, and letting you fall on your stomach on the table once more. He threw his own head back, his cock twitching inside you before he came.

Ropes and ropes of cum, he pulled out with a pant, watching as your pussy was clenching around nothing, leaking of a mixture of both of your cums.

He smirks at his work, touching your ass before zipping up his pants. Whispering, “you’re mine, doll” before leaving.

You were breathless, and feel to your knees. You legs couldn’t stand— not without shaking. Still, you felt a sense of achievement.

This was far from over

167 notes · View notes

amethystarachnid · 3 months ago

Note

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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imtryingbuck · 10 months ago

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He doesn’t know.

~ 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

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.

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.

“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.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

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librababe99 · 4 months ago

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Kinktober Day Eleven: Tony Stark

Tony Stark x Female Reader | Infidelity |

Tags: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, SMUT, infidelity, unprotected sex (p in v) , fingering, choking, power dynamics

Summary: In the shadows of secrecy, desire becomes a dangerous game—one where the deeper you fall, the harder it is to remember where loyalty ends and betrayal begins.

Word Count: 1.0K

A/N: Sorry I was late to post y'all! I actually started celebrating my birthday early tonight (I turn 25 Monday😭) and now I'm pretty buzzed---buttttt please enjoy this!! Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

The room was dim, the only light coming from the moon outside, casting faint silver streaks across the lavish bed. Stark Tower loomed above the city, quiet and insulated from the world below, yet inside, the air between you and Tony was anything but calm.

You felt the weight of his body pressing you deeper into the cool sheets, his hands gripping your hips with a possessiveness that left you breathless. The heat of his skin seared into yours, his touch urgent, rough, and unrelenting—like a man on the edge of control. The tension in the air had been simmering for months, and in these stolen moments, it always boiled over into something raw, something almost dangerous.

“We shouldn’t be here,” you whispered, though your voice trembled, betraying the lie. Your fingers curled into his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he pushed deeper, slow and deliberate. “This is wrong.”

Tony’s laugh was low, dark, vibrating through your chest as he leaned in, his breath warm against your neck. “Then why do you keep coming back?” His lips grazed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Why do you always end up in my bed?”

The way he spoke made it sound like it was a challenge, like he already knew the answer, as though the power he had over you was undeniable—and it was. Every time you swore you would end this affair, every time you told yourself you’d walk away for good, you found yourself right back here, caught in his web.

Tony shifted, his hips pressing against yours, his cock filling you again, harder this time, drawing a gasp from your lips. Your body responded instinctively, arching into him, craving the friction, the heat, the way he made you forget everything else.

Your head tilted back, exposing the curve of your neck, and he didn’t hesitate to take advantage. His mouth was on your skin, biting softly at first, then harder, marking you in a way that sent waves of pleasure mixed with a sharp edge of pain. “You like it,” he murmured against your throat, his voice thick with desire. “You like being mine, even when you know you shouldn’t be.”

His words stung because they were true. This was dangerous—what you were doing, what you had been doing for months now—but the thrill of it, the secrecy, the forbidden nature of your relationship, only seemed to heighten the intensity of every touch, every kiss, every stolen moment.

You tried to speak, tried to push back against him, but all that came out was a breathless moan as his hand slid between your thighs, his fingers circling your clit, making you tremble beneath him. His touch was relentless, teasing, coaxing you closer to the edge with every movement.

“I should end this,” you gasped, even as your hips bucked against him, desperate for more. “We should stop.”

Tony’s lips curled into a smirk against your skin, and you could feel the shift in him—the dark satisfaction in knowing that you were powerless against him. “But you won’t,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, his hand tightening its grip on your hip as he thrust into you harder, deeper. “You never do.”

His words were like a knife, cutting through whatever fragile resolve you had left. He was right. You couldn’t stop, no matter how much you told yourself you should. Tony was like a drug, addictive, consuming, and the more you tried to fight it, the deeper you fell into his control.

His pace quickened, the rhythm between your bodies becoming more frantic, more desperate. Each thrust sent jolts of pleasure through you, erasing any lingering doubts, any guilt that tried to claw its way to the surface. Your world narrowed down to just him—his hands on you, his mouth marking your skin, the overwhelming need that pulsed between you.

“You belong to me,” Tony whispered harshly, his voice filled with possession, as though saying it out loud solidified it in both of your minds. His hand slid up, wrapping around your throat—not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp, your pulse racing beneath his fingertips. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your body trembling beneath him, on the verge of breaking apart entirely. He tightened his grip slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, daring you to defy him, to deny the truth that you both knew.

“I’m yours,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the words hung heavy in the air between you. It wasn’t just a submission—it was an admission. An acceptance of the hold he had over you, of the fact that you were too far gone to turn back now.

Satisfaction flickered in Tony’s gaze as he claimed your mouth again, his kiss rough, almost punishing, as if sealing the deal. His hand slid back down your body, gripping your waist as he drove into you with renewed force, his movements brutal in their intensity.

Your body responded to him helplessly, the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter inside you with every thrust, every growl of his name that escaped your lips. You were completely at his mercy, lost in the overwhelming storm of sensations, the heat, the friction, the undeniable power he had over you.

And then, with a final sharp thrust, the tension inside you snapped, your body shattering as your orgasm crashed over you, leaving you gasping, clinging to him as the world around you blurred. Tony followed soon after, his grip tightening on your hips as he buried himself inside you one last time, groaning against your neck, coming within you.

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the sound of your ragged breaths and the pounding of your heart. Tony didn’t move, still pressed against you, his forehead resting against yours as you both came down from the high of it all.

You should have felt guilt—shame, even—but instead, all you felt was the satisfaction of knowing that, no matter how wrong this was, no matter how much you told yourself you should stop, you would always end up right back here.

In his bed. In his arms.

And Tony knew it too.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, softer this time, but no less possessive. His lips brushed against yours in a slow, lingering kiss, as though reminding you that this wasn’t over. It would never be over.

And despite everything… you knew he was right.

Taglist: @strangeeaglepost @iloved1lfs0 @serendippindots @nyxoneiros @omgurhot @chaoticweirdogeek @5soscrack @superstar-lover863-blog @Therealnekomari @ahreumnim

#kinktober 2024 #tony stark x reader #tony stark x female reader #tony stark x you #iron man #tony stark smut #iron man 2 #iron man 3 #iron man x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x y/n #tony stark fanfiction #iron man smut #robert downey jr

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ironinc · 27 days ago

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Drunk Confession.ᝰ.ᐟ (Pt.2)

Tony Stark x F!Black Reader.

˗ˏˋ After the genuine drunken confession at the dinner party, a mix of emotions surged through your veins. Eager to explore the depths of Tony's emotions, you both slipped away, seeking a private space to delve into the authenticity of his feelings.

⤷ Oneshot, Smut/Nsfw so here’s the warning! a 10+ year age gap, starts off with a smut, ends with sweet nothings~

⤷ A/N: Part one is right here if you missed it. This is my first explicit story in a while so let me know if you guys are interested in it more. Please let me know if you have any requests and I will try my best to complete them! So without a further a do- enjoy this. ;)

⤷ Word count: 1,644

⤷ Special song to add spice: Candy (slowed) by Doja Cat.

"Tony," you whispered in between kisses, "I need you, now. Here."

✮⋆˙

The kiss was fierce, and desperate, like he was trying to pour every unspoken word into it. His hands slid down your waist, pulling your body against him. You melted into the contact, your arms looping around his neck.

The taste of scotch on his tongue was intoxicating, yet you found yourself craving more. More of him. His fingers gently tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. From this alone, you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. You let out a soft moan that seemed to ignite something primal in him. He broke away briefly, his breathing ragged, his eyes blazing with need.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “Tell me this isn’t a mistake.”

You shook your head, your own breath coming in short gasps. “It’s not. It’s not a mistake.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. His hands roamed lower, gripping your hips before lifting you effortlessly onto the desk. Papers scattered, forgotten, as he pulled your dress up to your waist to step in between your legs. His body pressing against yours. You could feel his heat and urgency, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

His lips found your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat. “You have no idea,” he growled, his lips moving to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. “What you do to me. Every damn day, sitting in meetings, pretending I don’t want to bend you over my desk and fuck you until you scream.”

His words sent a jolt of arousal straight to your core, and you arched into him, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Mr.Stark,” you gasped, “Someone could—oh God—someone could walk in—”

“Let them,” he muttered, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the hem of your burgundy dress higher and higher. “Let them see how fucking perfect you are. How much I want you.”

His fingers brushed against the lace of your panties, and you shuddered, your legs parting instinctively. “Please,” you begged, though you weren’t even sure what you were asking for any more.

He smirked at that, his eyes dark with lust. “Please what? Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Use your words.” You swallowed hard, your cheeks flushing as you met his gaze. “I want… I want you to touch me.”

Tony’s smile widened, predatory and knowing. “Good girl.” With that, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your lace panties and pulled them down your legs, tossing them aside carelessly. His hands returned to your thighs, spreading them wider as he stepped between them. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “So fucking wet for me already.”

You whimpered as his fingers trailed through your slick folds, teasing you mercilessly. “Tony, please—”

“Patience,” he chided, though his own breathing was ragged, betraying how close he was to losing control.“I’m going to take my time with you. Make sure you remember every second of this.”

His mouth descended on yours again, silencing your protests as his fingers began to move, circling your clit with maddening precision. You squirmed under his touch, your heels—those ridiculously expensive Louboutins—digging into his sides as you tried to pull him closer.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

“Let go for me. I want to feel you come apart in my arms.”

It didn’t take long. The combination of his skilled fingers and the filthy promises he whispered in your ear pushed you over the edge, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You buried your face in his shoulder to muffle your cries, but Tony wasn’t having it.

“No,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “I want to hear you. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

As the aftershocks of your orgasm subsided, Tony didn’t give you a chance to catch your breath. He unzipped his pants, freeing his cock, and you bit your lip at the sight of him—thick, hard, and aching for you.

“You’re not done yet,” he said, gripping your hips and positioning himself at your entrance. “Not even close.”

He thrust into you in one smooth motion, and you cried out, the sensation and his length overwhelming. Tony groaned, his forehead resting against yours as he paused, letting you adjust to him. “God, you feel incredible,” he breathed.

“Tighter than I fucking imagined.”

Then he began to move, slow at first, but quickly picking up speed as his self-control crumbled. Each thrust drove you further into the desk, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider as he fucked you with an intensity that left you gasping for air.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough with possessiveness. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to baby?”

“You,” you choked out, your nails raking down his back. “I’m yours, Mr.Stark.”

He let out a guttural moan at that, his pace becoming erratic as he neared his own release. “Fuck, I’m close. Come for me again. Let me feel you.”

Your climax hit you unexpectedly, crashing over you like a tidal wave. Tony followed soon after, his entire body tensing as he spilled himself inside of you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the sound of your labored breathing. Then, footsteps echoed in the hallway outside, growing louder as they approached.

Tony stiffened, his eyes meeting yours in a silent warning. Before either of you could react, the doorknob began to shake…

── .✦

“Mr. Stark?” a voice called from the other side of the door. It was Happy, the tone laced with concern. “Is everything alright in there? You’ve been gone for a while.” Tony didn’t move, his body pressed firmly against yours. Trapping you between his chest and the edge of the desk.

His breath was warm against your neck as he whispered, “What do you think, sweetheart? Should we let him in?”

You shook your head frantically, your hands gripping his shoulders. “No,” you mouthed, your voice barely a whisper. As your heart pounded so loudly you were sure Happy could hear it through the door.

Tony chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Relax,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “The door’s locked. He’s not getting in.”

He knocked again, harder this time. “Mr. Stark? I’m coming in if you don’t respond.”

Your eyes widened, panic flashing in them knowing you both were still in an exposing position. Tony tilted his head, studying your expression with amusement.

“Trust me,” he said, his voice calm and steady. Then, louder, he called out, “Everything’s fine, Happy. Just… taking a moment. Give us five minutes.”

There was a brief pause on the other side of the door before Happy replied, “Alright, sir. I’ll be outside if you need anything.”

The sound of footsteps retreating was like a lifeline. You let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding. Tony’s hands moved again, sliding up your sides and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “See?” he said, his voice a low purr. “Nothing to worry about.”

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. “Yeah,” you whispered. “Just… wow.”

Tony smirked, though there was something almost tender in his expression. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Wow.”

He pulled out of you gently, you winced at the sudden emptiness. Tony grabbed a tissue from the desk, cleaning himself up before helping you do the same. Then he stepped back, adjusting his clothes as he glanced at the door.

“We should probably get back to the party,” he said, his tone casual, though his eyes lingered on you.

“Before people start asking too many questions on the spot.”

You nodded in agreement. Tony found your underwear, which he threw and handed to you. You slipped your underwear back on and started smoothing down your dress.

But as you moved to follow him, Tony stopped you, his hand on your arm.

“This isn’t just a one-time thing,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Not for me. Just so you know.”

You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his eyes. “Good,” you said softly.

Tony smiled a genuine smile that made your stomach flutter. He then leaned in for a kiss.

His kiss was a gentle caress that ignited your senses, and as he pulled away, you were left craving more. He placed a hand on the door, ready to leave, but not before turning back to you with a genuine smile. “One more thing,' he said, his voice dropping to a tantalizing whisper. “I want to take you on a proper date this Saturday night.”

Your heart leaped with enthusiasm, a bright smile spreading across your face. “I would really love that,” you responded, eager to spend time with him.

Tony’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, you thought he might push you back against the desk and have you all over again. But then the sound of laughter from the hallway brought you both back to reality.

He opened the door, stepping out into the hallway with an effortless confidence. As you followed, your legs were a bitshaky, but you held your head high.

As you both walked back to the main room, Tony glanced over at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “By the way,” he said, his voice casual, “You might want to fix your hair. It’s a little… tousled.”

That made you reach up instantly to your hair. Your fingers brushed through your hair as you glared at him. “Thanks for that,” you said dryly.

Tony chuckled, his hand brushing against yours for the briefest of moments. “Anytime.”

So... HAHAHAHA!@^^.

Here's an edit that lowkey threw me through a loop while writing this.

(Credits: Starkxaep on TikTok)

I haven't done this in so long yet it felt so natural. Let me know if you like this and want more, have a good day beautiful!

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fandomnerd9602 · 3 months ago

Note

Fandomnerd x Toni Stark

FandomNerd walks into their apartment to find…

Toni: hello hot stuff

Fandom: Katie McGrath?!

Toni: Toni Stark, the Iron Maiden. Mmm you are cute. You alone?

Fandom: usually very alone. This is so weird. I mean how? Why me?

Toni: Gwenpool and (Y/N)-Pool sent me. Said I need someone like you to care for.

Fandom: tell those two I can take care of myself just fine!

Toni: but you cute. I just might wanna keep you

Fandom: (whispers) mother

Toni: I prefer Mistress

#marvel #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #iron maiden #Toni stark #tony stark #iron man #female iron man #female avengers #the avengers #katie mcgrath #rule 63 #genderbent #genderbend

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buckyalpine · 2 years ago

Text

Suck

Imagine giving bucky the absolute sloppiest messy head he’s gotten in his life.

He’s back from a stressful mission and has 0 energy to do anything but he’s also too high strung to fall asleep right away. He’s showered and splayed out on the bed in just his boxer briefs, eyes closed, his arm slung over his face, but muscles tensed.

He feels shuffling at the foot of the bed, your nimble fingers toying with the waistband of his briefs. Before he can say anything you tug them off, and shimmy down to lie between his legs.

“Y/n, baby you don’t have to - oh shit” his voice melts into a low moan as soon as he feels your warm wet mouth suck on his balls, laving your tongue between his seam and working your way up his shaft.

“Shhh, just relax, gonna take care of you, pretty boy” you coo, nipping his inner thigh. His arm is still covering his face but you can see his lips part, sucking in a breath when you kiss his sensitive cockhead, letting your tongue swipe across his slit before wrapping your lips around him.

“God damn, baby” a low rumble emits from his chest when you start to move your head up and down, sucking harder as you pull up and breathing out your nose when you take him further in your mouth. Your getting his cock soaked and hard, moaning each time he touches the back of your throat.

“Oh sweetheart - fuck - mmmmph” he bites back a whine when his tip breeches your throat, constricting around his length as you take him as deep as you can. His hips start to rut up, thighs squirming, gently fucking your mouth while you continue to slobber all over his cock.

His finger start to twitch, desperate for more of the pleasure you’re giving him, all the stress in his body melting away and going straight to his cock, throbbing and hard as ever against your tongue. You can feel his veins pulsing, your eyes flicking up to see his chest heaving, thrusting his hips up a little more.

He loves the gag you let out, no longer able to keep his hands to himself, bringing them down to either side of your head. He knows you want to take care of him but his cock is about to explode and he needs this so bad.

“Fuck yes baby, suck my cock” he lets out loud moan, holding your head in his hands to keep you in place rocking his hips up and off the bed to fuck your face. His thighs are spread out, heels digging into the mattress with his abs tensed, your mouth slick with his precum. He’s thrusting up with his head thrown back, alternating between watching how angelic you look with your swollen lips and tear stained face and squeezing his eyes shut because you look too fucking pretty with his dick in your mouth.

The harder he fucks your face, the louder he gets, his entire body feeling like it was lit up from pleasure.

“God, you look too pretty like this angel- fuck I love it when you suck my cock, makes me wanna cum so hard - shit”

“Wanna fuck your face for hours, that’s it, choke on my fat cock baby, fuck it’s so thick in your little mouth”

“Can barely get in in your throat, c’mom princess, make room for me, that’s-that’s it, atta girl, open wide, open, gonna give you so much cum”

“SUCK IT BABY, YES, SUCKING MY DICK SO GOOD”

“SUCK. MY. COCK” he couldn’t possibly get any louder, thrusting up hard in your mouth, punctuating each word with his tip stretching your throat. “FUCK-GOD DAMN

Imagine poor Steve walking down the hall past Buckys room with Tony and Sam, his cheeks going bright red while Tony cackles and high fives Sam.

“Lucky terminator” Tony muses, only a little envious, mostly curious because Bucky hardly makes a sound even when he gets stabbed and now-

“Damn right” Sam snorts while Steve drags the both of them alone before they press their ears to the door.

“You’re both perverts”

“And tinman is having the time of his life-

“Good God-

“He keeps calling for God-

“I’m going to send you both to the raft”

Bucky could not give less of a fuck if anyone saw or heard him right now, utterly wrecked as he starts to pant, his orgasm at the base of his cock, balls tight and heavy.

“Gonna bust in that mouth baby- gonna milk me empty, fuck it’s so good, it’s so so good” his hips stutter, pressing you face flush against the base of his cock, stilling as his cock starts to throb. You can taste him flooding your tongue with his excessive load, the serine combined with how pent up he was spilling more than you can handle.

“Fuck drink my cum baby, you look so pretty with my milk in your mouth”

You drink up his silky streams, letting his cum dribble down his shaft before licking it right back up, swirling your tongue around the swollen tip each time. He’s just a whining and whimpering mess when you clean him with your mouth, making sure to get every single drop, emptying his balls and pulling off with a satisfied hum.

The second you gently kiss his spent and soft cock, he’s out like a light, not a stress on his face, soft snores now filling the room.

Mission accomplished.

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rxmqnova · 1 year ago

Note

So i was thinking about, Wanda and Yn are friends, and Yn is in love with her but always putting her feelings on a side.

Wanda went to the supermarket and came back a bit upset because they couldn't find i don't know, her favourite chips or cookies, and while everyone said that next time they will have it, Yn without everyone noticed went to other places looking for it, until she found it and came back with a bag full of those. So she asked where she was and everyone was with a amused smile and telling her she was in her room. Yn went in there, and told Wanda that she has a surprise and give her the bag, she cried a bit, and you know they said their feelings to each other in a cute way hahaha.

And you can write like, two weeks later, when they are cuddling in the sofa and someone came with a box for Wanda and It was the chips or cookies, that Yn order because she didn't want to see Wanda upset for not having it and Wanda was shocked and look at her while Yn was with a grin on her face, so Wanda hugged her a gave her a kiss.

NO ONE'S POV Carrying a bag full of groceries, Wanda lets out a sigh. It was her turn to go grocery shopping this week and as always, she was excited to buy her favorite cookies.

She wouldn't be upset if they were any other cookies, but those are exactly the ones her and her twin brother Pietro loved when they were children. Ever since the tragic accident that caused Pietro's death, she's been always buying a box of those cookies whenever she went to the store as it reminds her of him.

All of the Avengers are currently sitting at the dining table, sharing a look when they notice Wanda's odd behavior. The witch has usually smile on her face, but now there's no smile.

"Wands? Are you okay?" Y/N questions, breaking the silence that's been filling the room.

Getting no response Y/N stands up and walks over to Wanda, helping her with the groceries.

"What happened?" Y/N asks once again.

"They didn't have cookies, the ones I always buy" Wanda sighs.

"Oh god, is this what's this all about? You'll just buy them next time" Tony rolls his eyes, making Y/N feel bad for Wanda. She knows how much those simple cookies mean to her.

"They'll surely have them next time" Natasha says with a soft smile, only to receive a hum from the witch in response.

Once the groceries out of the bag and on the right places, Wanda disappears to her room while Y/N joins the rest of the team at the table again, though her mind can't stop thinking about how to make Wanda happier.

Y/N hates to see Wanda sad, she'd do anything to make her feel better. She's been in love with her for as long she can remember, but she still hasn't said Wanda anything, worried it might ruin their friendship.

It doesn't take long until Y/N sneaks out of the kitchen and walks into the garage. She gets into her car and drives to a store, a different one Wanda went to, with hope to find Wanda's cookies.

———

A smile is playing on Y/N's lips as she's walking to the living room where are the others' voices heard, carrying a bag full of wanted cookies. She took every single box that was in the store.

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion when she scans the room and doesn't see Wanda anywhere.

"Guys? Have you seen Wanda?" Y/N questions, all eyes suddenly on her.

"I think she's still in her room. But what's that?" Natasha asks with a smirk, knowing well about the crush Y/N has on the witch.

I mean… all of the Avengers know the two like each other, it's just so obvious. They find it amusing to see how Y/N's cheeks always heat up when Wanda tells her something nice. Or how Wanda's trying to find any opportunity to just give Y/N a hug or tuck a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear.

"Nothing, just some cookies for Wanda" Y/N explains, quickly turning around and disappearing to avoid a potential teasing.

The others let out quiet laughs, watching with amused smiles as Y/N rushes out.

"Wands?" Y/N calls, knocking at the door of Wanda's room which opens a few seconds later. "Hi, I-I have something for you. Can I come in?" She smiles, receiving a nod from the witch as she stands aside and lets Y/N in.

Wanda sits on her bed, curiously watching her friend and wondering what's in the bag Y/N's holding.

"I. Hm. I just don't like seeing you sad, so… I-I got you this" Y/N hands Wanda the bag, her cheeks turning red as she's watching Wanda peek inside.

"Y/N, I… you went to the store to buy me cookies?" Wanda questions, now looking at Y/N who nods, her cheeks red while she's avoiding any possible eye-contact with the witch.

"I know how much they mean to you, so I thought that if I buy you some it would make you feel better" Y/N mumbles out, playing with her fingers and still avoiding eye-contact.

"Y/N/N" Wanda whispers, her eyes filled with tears from the nice gesture. She stands up, pulling Y/N in for a tight hug. "Thank you" She smiles warmly, wiping her tears away.

"That was nothing" Y/N blushes hard, turning her face away which doesn't go unnoticed by Wanda as she lets out a chuckle.

"It wasn't nothing, Y/N. No one has ever done anything like this for me. So I'm asking why?" Wanda asks, a smile playing on her lips as she's looking Y/N in the eyes.

"… Because I like you" Y/N mumbles out, her gaze fixed on the ground in case Wanda wouldn't feel the same.

Wanda's smile widens, she lifts Y/N's head up with her fingers to look her in the eyes before speaking again.

"I like you too, Y/N/N, so much" Wanda confesses. "I should have told you earlier, but I wasn't sure if you feel the same"

"Really? I… so if I asked you out on a date… would you say yes?" Y/N asks, a little surprised by the fact Wanda really likes her back.

"Well, ask me and you'll see" Wanda teases, receiving a playful roll of eyes from Y/N.

"Will you go on a date with me?" Y/N questions with a smile, receiving a smile back.

"Yes, of course. I will be happy to"

———————————

Two weeks later…

The cookies Y/N bought for Wanda two weeks ago are now all gone. Wanda gave a few boxes to the other Avengers and the rest she ate with Y/N.

And Y/N being the good girlfriend she is, she noticed, so she has a little surprise for Wanda.

The pair is currently cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie together when they get interrupted by the doorbell.

"I'll get it" Wanda sighs, sitting up and leaving the living room. Y/N's quick to follow with a smile on her face, knowing who only just rang the doorbell.

When she arrives to the the front door, Wanda's already holding a box of her favorite cookies and thanking the guy that brough it.

Wanda's absolutely confused and shocked, but it's all clear to her when she turns around and finds her girlfriend watching her with a huge smile on her face which brings a grin to Wanda's face.

"Thank you" Wanda says, wrapping arms around Y/N and pulling her in for a tight hug.

"No problem, I'll make sure you never run out. You have a personal stocker now" Y/N teases, making Wanda let out a laugh.

"You're such an idiot sometimes… my idiot" Wanda smiles, connecting her lips with Y/N's for a loving kiss.

It took them long enough to finally confess their feelings for each other, but it was definitely worth the wait.

-------------------------

I'm single as a pringle, but HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY EVERYONE!! <33

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #wanda x you #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff #black widow #tony stark #iron man

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just-dreaming-marvel · 21 days ago

Text

I Won't Say (I'm In Love) ~ Tony's Version

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST / MUSICAL INSPIRED FIC MASTERLIST

Tony Stark x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2,215ish

Request: Won't Say from Hercules + Natasha is quite sure Tony and reader are in love with each other, but she's after more info so she can try and work out a plan to get them together. She's managed to get a confession out of Tony. Now she's trying to get her best friend to confess, maybe during a girl's night in movie night along with Wanda. But she's stubborn as fuck. But so is Nat, and she ain't ending this night without the info she wants!

Notes: I hope this makes sense... I'm a little worried especially since I steered away from the request a bit.

“If there’s a prize for rotten judgement

I guess I’ve already won that

No man is worth the aggravation

That’s ancient history, been there, done that”

You sighed as you came home from yet another failed date. Another man who cared more about you being a housewife than a working Avenger. You carried your shoes in your hand as you made your way to the common room of the Compound for a drink.

“You alright?” Tony’s voice had you jumping.

“Tony!” You exclaimed. He was sitting on the couch, nursing his own drink. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he shot you a smile. “But seriously, you alright?”

“I’m fine. Just another failed attempt at dating.” You grabbed a beer from the fridge before plopping down next to Tony on the couch. “I’m beginning to think it’s not worth it anymore.”

“What? Dating?”

“Yeah. Searching for someone to spend your life with. They either are awful straight from the start or they hook you in and break your heart once you’re fully committed… I think I’ll stick to being single.”

“Not everyone is like that. You just have to find the right one.” Tony stood up. “Don’t drink too much of my liquor worrying about it.” He leaned down and kissed your head. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Tones.”

You sighed as Tony disappeared down the hall. You hated the reason behind your insistence on going on dates. Anthony Edward Stark. He was your type. Similar to guys you’ve dated before. Which is why you’d never admit to your feelings for him. You would just get hurt if you did. Tony wasn’t the type for a serious relationship, at least not anymore. He made that very clear since his and Pepper’s break up where he was back to sleeping around with any woman who looked at him a certain way. You couldn’t let yourself be one of them, knowing that you couldn’t keep your feelings in check.

~~~

Natasha woke up at her usual time to work out, surprised to see that Tony was already in the gym, a sweaty mess.

“Hard night?” She questioned, coming over to where the man was running on the treadmill.

“Something like that,” he grumbled, focusing on his running.

“Did Y/N go on another date last night?” Tony didn’t bother answering that question. “You know that there’s an easy solution to this. Just ask her out.”

“Natasha—“

“She’ll say yes.”

“You don’t know that.”

Natasha stepped onto the front of the treadmill to be face to face with the billionaire. “And if I find out it’s true, will you ask her out?”

“Maybe.”

“Great.” She jumped off the treadmill and headed for the door.

“Wait.” He paused the treadmill and jumped off it. “Where are you going?”

“To gather the evidence I need to stop you guys from being idiots any longer.”

“Who’d you think you’re kidding?

He’s the earth and heaven to you

Try to keep it hidden

Honey, we can see right through you (oh, no)

Girl, you can’t conceal it

We know how you feel and who you’re thinking of (oh)”

You were sitting on the couch in the common room, various teammates around. Vision was talking about something that you had stopped listening to some time ago. Your focus was on Tony. He was standing in the kitchen area, preparing a cup of coffee while talking to Bruce.

Natasha caught you staring and rolled her eyes. She tapped your arm, causing you to look her way, before she motioned to the hallway with her head. You knew that if she wanted to talk, there was no avoiding her. You followed her into one of the conference rooms down the hallway.

“What’s up?” You asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

Natasha leaned against the large glass conference table, arms folded over her chest. “Can you make it more obvious?”

“What are you talking about, Nat?”

“The fact that you’re head over heels in love with Tony.”

“No chance, no way

I won’t say it, no, no

You swoon, you sigh

Why deny it? Oh-oh

It’s too cliche (oh)

I won’t say I’m in love (shoo-doop, shoo-doop)

(Ooh)”

Your heart dropped at Natasha’s statement. “Wh—What? No, I’m not.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Your eyes were practically in the shape of hearts.”

“I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about, Nat. Tony is my friend. That is all.”

“You’re really going to try to lie to me?”

“I’m not lying.”

“Okay, I see how it is.” Natasha stood up and went to the door. “You know, keeping your feelings inside will only hurt you both more, right?”

“I’ve been hurt too many times, Nat. I can’t do it again. With anyone. No more dates for me. I’m good with being all by myself.”

“I thought my heart had learned its lesson (ooh)

It feel so good when you start out (ooh)

My head is screaming, ‘get a grip, girl!” (Ah)

Unless you’re dying to cry your heart out”

Clearly, your heart had not learned its lesson. Though you had been pushing your feelings down for Tony successfully for a while now, something happened since your talk with Natasha. You were acting like an idiot. Like some middle schooler who couldn’t talk to her crush and it was becoming a serious problem.

“Are you doing okay, Y/N?” Tony asked one day after you ruined something in his lab when he was helping fit you to a new suit. “Something’s been… off lately with you. I’m started to grow concerned.”

“I’m fine,” you said too quickly, unable to met his gaze. You internally cringed, wishing that you could just get a grip already.

“Cause that was believable.” He continued working. “You know that you can talk to me, right?”

“I know.” Just never about this, you thought.

“You keep on denying (oh)

Who you are and how you’re feeling

Baby, we’re not buying

Hon, we saw you hit the ceiling (oh)

Face it like a grown-up

When you gonna own up that you got, got, got it bad? (Whoa)”

Just another one of these stupid gala’s that the Team was forced to attend. You were standing to the side of the room, eyes focused on your drink. You were dressed in something that Natasha had picked for you and immediately noticed that Tony was wearing a matching tie as soon as you got here. You were trying to avoid everything and everyone, too caught up in your own world, to notice someone coming up to you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You jumped at Tony’s voice, despite it being one of your favorite things to hear. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “Came to check on you. You okay?”

“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Fine.”

One of his brows rose as he looked at your unbelievingly. “Well, I think I have an idea to make it better.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the dance floor.

“Tony, no, I—“

“You need to relax.”

Tony took your drink and set it on the nearby table before tugging you into the middle of the crowd of couples dancing. He readjusted the hand he was already holding so that it was better for dancing while his other hand came around your back and pulled you close to him. He began leading you in a small circle. His eyes were focused on you while you were trying to look anywhere else.

“You keep doing that,” he mumbled.

“What?” You questioned, still not looking at him.

“Avoiding me… why?”

“I— I’m not avoiding you.”

Tony scoffed. “Could’ve fooled me. You won’t even look at me.” Your eyes slowly met his deep brown ones. A small smile formed across his face. “There they are… I’ve missed those beautiful eyes.”

Your heart was hammering against your chest as your face heated up at his words. You had to force yourself not to look away.

“We used to talk about everything,” Tony admitted quietly. “But you’ve been pulling away.”

“Just a lot going on,” you muttered. “Been pulled on a lot of different missions.”

“That’s not it and you know it… Is it… are you… is there some you’re seeing? Did a date workout?”

“No,” you quickly shook your head. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I just mean that good that no one’s hurting you. That— That’s it.”

The Team watched as you and Tony continued to dance and chat.

“She’s clearly in love with him,” Natasha commented. “Why can’t she see how in love with her Tony is?”

“Stop meddling, Nat,” Steve reprimanded. “Let things happen when they happen.”

“Says the man who waited too long.”

“Hey! That was low.”

“But true,” Bucky commented.

“There has to be a way that we can get them together,” continued Nat. “And I will be making it happen. Just watch.”

“No chance, no way

I won’t say it, no, no

Give up, give in

Check the grin, you’re in love

This scene won’t play

I won’t say I’m in love (you’re doing flips)

(Read our lips, you’re in love)”

Tony and you were in the lab. He had requested your help with one of his suits. The suit just shot him across the lab and you couldn’t help but burst into a fit of laughter.

“Tony!” You laughed. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” he groaned, sitting up.

You rushed over and reached out a hand. Tony grabbed your outstretched hand, but instead of using it to pull himself up, he pulled you down. You squealed as you landed on Tony. He laughed, securing you to him. You froze as you realized how close your faces were. Tony’s laughter died down too as his eyes flickered to your lips. You shivered as his hand slipped up your body to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing against your skin.

“I…” you breathed out, mind reeling. “I got to go.”

You quickly pushed yourself off of Tony and rushed out of the room. Tony sighed, putting his hands over his eyes and he got angry with himself.

“You’re way off base

I won’t say it (she won’t say it loud)

Get off my case (sha-la)

I won’t say it (ooh)

Girl, don’t be proud

It’s okay, you’re in love”

You had been completely avoiding Tony since the incident in the lab and everyone, especially Tony, can tell.

“Leave me alone, Nat!” You yelled as she tried to convince you to talk to Tony for what felt like the millionth time that day. “Seriously!”

“You are doing more harm than good at this point, Y/N!” She replied, not giving up. “Just be honest with yourself and Tony. You both deserve better than this.”

“Please, leave me be, Nat!”

“It’s okay to feel this way! It’s normal to be in love and to be scared. Tony’s scared too.”

“You don’t know what you’re taking about.”

Natasha sighed, knowing that you weren’t going to back down so it was time for her plan B to be put into place. She got a tranquilizer gun from her boot and shot you in the back. You gasped, falling forward and passing out quickly. She shook her head as she grabbed your body and began dragging you away.

~~~

You woke up with a groan. Looking around, you realized that you were laying on a table in one of the conference rooms. Tony was on the other end, sitting in one of the chairs.

“What’s—“ You cut yourself up to clear your throat as you sat up. “What’s going on?”

“Romanoff,” Tony answered. “She locked us in here and isn’t going to let us out unless…”

“Unless?”

Tony sighed, lifting his head to look at you. “Unless we confess our feelings.”

“No,” you immediately said, shaking your head. You scrambled off the table and onto your feet. “She can’t do this.”

Tony stood up and slowly began coming over to you. “Why? Why can’t she?”

“Because… Because… I… She just can’t.”

“Is it because you don’t feel the way she thinks you do or is it because you do?”

“Tony… I can’t… I won’t say anything… I can’t get hurt again.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you, sweetheart… Never.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“But I can show it. If you’d let me.”

“Tony… I…” Your heart was screaming at you to just tell him that you loved him, but your mind was winning. “I… I’m sorry… I can’t say it. I can’t. I… I care too much… I have to protect myself. I have to—“

Tony grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. His lips attached to yours in a swift motion, catching you off guard.

“Oh

At least out loud

I won’t say I’m in love

(Shoo-doop, shoo-doop, shoo-doop, shoo-doop)

(Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ah)”

Tony guided you through the tender kiss, his hands holding your face close to his. You allowed yourself to relax and melt into him.

“I love you, too,” he whispered against your lips when he finally broke the kiss. “I love you, too. And I will do whatever I can to show you every day.” His lips pecked yours. “Every damn day. I love you.”

“And if I won’t say it back just yet?” you nervously questioned.

“You don’t ever have to say it, if you’re not ready. But I’ll still be here. I promise.”

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