#ironman imagines

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Consider this: Tony x F!Reader where they both have an insanely high sex drive…which leads them to do it at any and all given moments, regardless of where they are 🤔🤭

Libido

A/N: This ask has been marinating in my inbox for a long time now. Heart it, reblog it and comment if you’ve enjoyed reading :)

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ smut, fluff.

Tony Stark Masterlist

.

“What was that, Y/N?”

You covered a needy little moan that escaped with a cough as you squirmed in your seat, trying to appear as normal as you could in front of the camera. This pushed your colleague to ask if you were okay, a question he really didn’t need answered.

Not when you had a certain cocky, billionaire genius between your legs, stroking your glistening folds with a shit-eating grin on his face. The table you sat at conveniently covered your lower half, making you appear perfectly innocent on the meeting call while your boyfriend teased you relentlessly.

It was payback for the time you’d snuck into his lab to give him the best head of his life - which he admitted to, while he was on a phone call with Thaddeus Ross.

Not that he would ever discourage you from doing it again but the dichotomy of Tony’s warning glares and vice-like grip in your hair to guide you along his length had felt too good to miss.

“I um—I’m sorry I think there’s something wrong with my network here.” Quickly switching off your camera, you went on mute as you felt Tony slide two fingers inside your pussy, grinning victoriously as you let out a moan you’d been stifling.

“I hate you, Stark.” You panted, lifting your hips to match his pace as he massaged your slick walls.

“Love you too, baby.” He smirked, kissing your inner thigh lovingly while bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Put that mouth to good use now, make me come.” With that you guided his face where you needed him the most.

The two of you often had a hard time keeping your hands off of each other. And you didn’t even try. Finding any and every place you could to get naughty. Be it on missions, plane rides or meetings, you two would make sure to christen the unlikeliest of places.

.

“What if they hear us?”

You would think your urgent whispers would make the man halt his ministrations but no, they seemed to spur him on.

“Better be quiet then.”

Tony murmured against your lips as he slid into your wetness with ease, muffling your moan that almost escaped by covering your mouth with his hand.

While the communal kitchen pantry was a sizeable space, the door wasn’t exactly sound proof. And with the team lounging right in the adjacent room, you were walking a thin line of hot, sneaky sex and outing your relationship to them all.

It was movie night, and while the team seemed blissfully unaware, you and Tony had snuck into the kitchen under the pretext of getting more popcorn. His wandering hands led you to pull him into the pantry urgently, wanting him to take you right there. You craved the man as if it were a primal need.

“Tony, I need more. Please..” you cried, digging your fingernails into his shoulders while he held you up against the cabinets, your legs wrapped around his hips as he began moving ever so slowly.

“Shh. I got you, sweetheart.”

With his lips murmuring promises against your skin, he picked up his pace, making his length brush deliciously against the spot that made your knees weak.

You weren’t sure if you could hold your moans in any longer as he drove you closer to the edge, his thrusts picking up on the urgency you both felt.

“Y/N? Are you in there? I thought you were getting popcorn.” Bruce’s voice made you stop abruptly. He was right outside and could come in any minute.

“Yeah! I just wanted to get some extra candies too. I’ll—I’ll be right out.”

You felt Tony grin against your neck hearing your lame reason, knowing all the candies you could possibly imagine were already laid out on the kitchen island.

“Alright. Do you know where Tony is?” Bruce frowned as he glanced at the array of snacks already sitting there.

Tony resumed his actions, not bothering to cover your mouth any more while your eyes were fixed on the shadows of Bruce’s feet that were visible at the bottom right outside the shut door. You held your breath, glaring at the man who was now moving inside you without a care in the world.

“Uh, not really, Bruce. He’s probably back in his room, old man needs his sleep!” You joked, watching the doctor finally walk away as Tony bit down on your neck.

“You’re gonna pay for that, Y/L/N.” he warned.

“Yeah? I can’t wait, Stark.”

.

“Wait! Found another twig.”

Turning around, you blinked in confusion as Tony’s arms went around you, movements exaggerated as his fingers carded through your hair to pluck stray leaves and a twig from them.

“Don’t look so innocent, you know where your mouth has just been.”

He smirked, giving your hair a gentle but firm tug as his lips descended onto yours, tasting the last of his saltiness on your tongue.

The team was on a mission and you’d just happened to have found a secluded spot in the woods that surrounded the area. Your make out session had turned into a quickie while the team was oblivious to your activities.

You hadn’t officially announced you were together, the thrill of all excited you, plus, you wanted to keep what you had to yourself just a bit longer. It was nothing short of a wild ride sneaking around with Tony Stark.

Though you had a feeling Rhodey had his doubts that something was up, then again, he knew Tony inside out. And according to him, his behaviour had changed significantly since you’d walked into his life. He laughed and slept more, cribbed less, and the way his eyes lit up every time you were near, Rhodey was certain his best friend was smitten.

His eager length twitched against your thigh once again as you kissed, making you nip at his bottom lip before playfully pushing him away.

“I’ve already taken care of my distraction for the day.” You called over your shoulder, heading back to where the team was. Nat gave you pointed look which you dismissed, your heart still beating faster as you took a seat next to her.

I think you lost your underwear somewhere —Your favourite distraction.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, revealing a message from your secret boyfriend. While you made up an excuse to where you had been, Tony caught your eye and pulled something out of his pocket with a victorious grin. Your panties.

[deathbyathousandspiders]

IN WHICH stark!reader witnesses her father’s final breath after he saves the world.

writing this specifically for @inkedeye2345 because tbh it takes a comment to realize people actually want to see second parts to the posts i make :,)

i forget that people actually enjoy my writing and i’m not making it up—

read part one here if you want!

disclaimer: heavy angst, this is the saddest thing i have written to date.

you cannot charge me for your therapy bills.

i love yall 3000 🫶��

thank you for supporting me :,)

✨masterlist✨.

1.1k.

The battlefield was soaked with soot and blood, overlapping and mixing with each other. Mixing between your foes and your teammates. It was an overwhelming sight to see, an overwhelming scene to be a part of. Nothing you ever anticipated witnessing, and nothing you ever wanted to witness again. 

Rages and cries and striking weaponry sang symphonies as they clashed with one another. Blistered feet and Chuck Taylor’s carried you across the rubble of the compound as fast as they could, your hammering heart drowning out the sound of the war around you as you ran for your life. Ran towards your father. 

From where you were, even as the distance shortened, it was hard to tell what was happening. Six different colors shimmered their way up Tony’s right arm, resting on each knuckle with a shine that stars themselves envied. You shielded yourself from the blinding light, only for a second. That second was long enough to know that whatever your dad was doing, it weakened him. You wanted to stop it. 

You needed to stop it. 

Perhaps forty or so feet remained between you and your dad before he snapped his fingers, and you froze. Against your will, you froze. Deep down, in the stillness of the air, in the bright light emitting from his right hand of color, you knew what was happening. You knew what he was doing. 

“Dad..” It slipped from your lips before you could stop it, before the tears could sting your eyes. You stepped, paced, walked, jogged– ran. Your feet could not carry you quick enough, far enough, soon enough. Heart plummeting, breath shallowing, you didn’t pay enough attention to hear the dying war cries, the dying battle. Your eyes remained on your father. 

He slumped where he was, half of his body, his face, turning to something resembling the soot beneath you. And still, pushing past the pain of sacrifice, the pain of the losses he didn’t have the time to count, he met your eyes. Some pained, relieved, fatherly smile spread across his face. You both shed tears at the notion. 

You both knew it would be the last grin he had in him. 

You fell to your knees to meet him, tripping on a rock and still catching your tumble with grace. Sliding straight for him, all you could manage was to outstretch your arms and wrap them around him. A sob crawled out from you, at the fact that this would be your last hug or the fact that Tony did not even have the strength to return it, you couldn’t tell. 

Violent cries shook your entire body as you held him, but you needed to force yourself out of the anguished state. Tony saved the world from sorrow bigger than your comprehension, and you couldn’t let his last few moments be filled with sadness. You couldn’t let his dying breath be used to comfort your grief. 

One deep breath was all you needed to compose yourself. You swallowed the sobs as they came up, pulling back from the hug and leaning your dad back on a rock. You felt the eyes of each of your teammates slowly find some way to the two of you, but you knew that making eye contact with any of them would break your composure. 

You needed to be strong right now. 

A sniffle, and you forced a grin to mirror his, tears slipping through the seems of the dam you failed to build. “You did it, Dad.” Another sniffle, a squeeze of his shoulder, a solid hold on his hand. His hand that was too weak to tremble, a hand that felt cold as ice in your grasp. You mustered a breath, playing off a sob like a choke of air. A cough, perhaps. “I’m so proud of you.” The words left your lips with a tremor, a break in the cracks. You weren’t going to last. And neither would he.

Your father taught you well to hide your vulnerability, to mask your struggle. “Though I wish you’d let me beat you to it.” Something sad of a laugh broke through, tripping on the hollowing coating your mouth and the lump forming in your throat. That weakened squeeze within your fingers told you that Tony was glad he had beaten you to it, beaten you to the one thing he did not want you to do. 

As much as you, too, did not want to do this, be the one to sacrifice, you would have done anything to keep him there. To keep your father alive, to keep your best friend living. Yet, you failed to do so.

Peter’s presence beside you felt like a beacon of solitude. The last space of comfort you had left. Your right temple met his left shoulder, though you did not dare tear your watering eyes from Tony’s. His slow blinks and wheezing breaths would not last more than a moment longer, and you tried to memorize the feeling of his warmth while you could. The warmth of your father. 

He grabbed Tony’s left hand, his right hand grabbing yours as tight as he could. “We won, Mister Stark.” The shaken voice Peter spoke in told you he was breaking just as much as you were at the sight of Tony so tattered. It both broke you and brought you reassurance. 

“I’ll take care of her, Tony..” Peter’s whispered words shattered every guard you bore to keep yourself composed. It tore you to pieces, and how could it not? How fucked up did you have to be to try and push away the pain of losing your father? Your shoulders shook at the weight of the despair, the unbelievable pain that could not be bandaged. “It’s okay.” You could not tell whether Peter lulled the words to you or your father, but the two words were all Tony needed to hear before he, too, tore down his guards. 

The light fled his eyes the same moment the arc reactor shut off. The moment he died.

A gasp joined the mixture of your shallow breathing, your shaken sobbing, at the weight of Tony’s hand going limp in yours. He was lifeless, dead. Gone. Your father was gone. 

You pressed a tearful kiss to his fingers one last time before laying the hand at his side, leaning forward to shut Tony’s eyes to sleep forever. The second you leaned back, Peter wrapped you in his arms, allowing you to release the feeling and trauma of enduring the scene you knew would haunt you forever. 

The cost of his life for yours was a debt you would never be able to repay. A life–for–a–life kind of payback you knew you’d always fall short of. You just hoped he was right to keep you from making the sacrifice he was destined for. 

You just hoped you would be worth it. 

[animealways]

tony and his child

tony: i recently found out mickey mouse has a kid

y/n with a major voice crack: wHaT?!

tony: you didn't know this?

y/n: nO!

tony: wait i need to look up the name as well its so funny

y/n: oH mAh gAd this is just as bad when i found out hello kitty has a boyfriend

tony now with a major voice crack: hElLo KiTtY hAs A bOyFrIeNd?!?

y/n: hello kitty has a boyfriend!

[lilylovelyxo]

*Arguing heard in Avengers Tower*

Bruce: (gasps) “Uh-oh.”

Steve: “Ouch…”

Pepper: “Oh, god.”

Dad Tony: “Don’t you talk to me that way, Miss Smart Mouth! You just bought yourself a ticket to your room.”

Y/N: “Oh, fine. Best money I ever spent! You can’t ruin anything in there.”

[mischievous-thunder]

[amethystarachnid]

30. Holiday Movie Night with the Avengers (or X-Men) – The Avengers decide to have a Christmas movie marathon for the whole family. Your character is skeptical about the cheesy movies, but what happens when they get caught up in the holiday spirit?

My character is Tony Stark, please, and I'm a female reader ❤️ I was thinking that maybe they are best friends, and seeing how happy the reader is watching those movies, he'll realize he has feelings for her and in the next day he'll invite her to a date inspired in some movie scene and tell her he loves her and ask her to be his girlfriend and she'll say yes because she loves him too, and please, lots of kisses 🤭 ohh, and they can turn "watching movies" into their cute little tradition too 😊

Thank you 😊

MOVIE NIGHT & KISSES

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

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

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.7k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

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

The living room of the Avengers compound looks like a Christmas card threw up all over it. Tony’s doing, obviously. You step inside, arms loaded with snacks—because you don’t trust Tony not to have stocked up exclusively on the weird gourmet stuff no one likes—and immediately trip over a tiny reindeer statue.

“Why?” you ask the air. Tony’s voice floats down the hallway before his actual appearance.

“Why what? Be more specific, or I’ll assume you’re asking why I’m fabulous.”

You roll your eyes and dump your cargo of chips, popcorn, and candy on the coffee table. “Why is there a deer the size of a toddler lying in wait for my ankles? It’s assault.”

Tony finally enters, grinning like he’s just pulled off a massive heist instead of, you know, redecorating. “You mean Blitzen? He’s festive. And you should really watch where you’re walking. Consider it a training exercise.”

“Blitzen,” you deadpan, already fishing around for scissors to open the snack bags. “You named the little menace Blitzen.”

“Of course, I did. What do you take me for, a savage? Anyway, what’s that—Pringles? Ugh, so pedestrian. Don’t worry, I’ve got foie gras chips in the kitchen.”

“Tony, no,” you say, cutting him off. “No one’s eating foie gras anything during movie night.”

“Fine. Keep your proletariat palate,” he huffs, but there’s no bite to it as he snags a bag of M&Ms and flops onto the couch like it’s claimed him.

The others start trickling in soon after, voices overlapping in that chaotic yet strangely comfortable way you’ve come to expect from these gatherings. Natasha is the first to spot the reindeer and gives you a knowing look.

“You trip over that thing yet?” she asks.

“Blitzen almost ended me,” you confirm, earning a snort.

“Is Tony naming inanimate objects again?” Steve asks, clearly trying and failing to hide a smile as he surveys the chaos.

“Not just naming them,” you say, gesturing at the garlands, twinkling lights, and a giant Santa hat perched on one corner of the TV. “He’s created an entire ecosystem.”

Thor, arriving last but with the biggest entrance, spots the reindeer and scoops it up like it’s an actual living thing. “What a curious creature!” he declares, cradling it as though it might respond. “May I keep it?”

“Absolutely not,” Tony says, looking horrified. “Blitzen is part of the ambiance.”

You try not to laugh, but it bubbles out anyway, and Tony shoots you a mock glare. “This is the respect I get from my so-called best friend? Unbelievable.”

“Your ‘best friend’ just saved movie night from foie gras chips, so I think I’ve earned the right to laugh,” you retort, throwing yourself onto the couch next to him.

The movie selection process devolves into chaos, as usual. Clint tries to sneak in a Christmas horror movie, Natasha threatens to walk out if it’s not something at least tolerable, and Steve insists on something “classic,” which somehow leads to a passionate argument over whether Die Hard qualifies as a Christmas movie.

Through it all, Tony leans closer to you, voice low. “If this debate goes on for another five minutes, I say we hijack the remote and put on Iron Man 3. Christmas and a superhero. Win-win.”

You snort, nudging him with your shoulder. “Tempting, but I don’t think your ego could survive the fallout.”

“Oh, please,” he replies, tossing an arm over the back of the couch—dangerously close to your shoulders, but you don’t mind. “My ego’s indestructible.”

Eventually, the group settles on a compromise: Home Alone, mostly because Thor declares he’s never seen it and everyone agrees watching his reactions will be worth it.

As the opening credits roll, Tony leans closer. “This is cozy,” he says, a bit quieter than usual. His fingers graze yours on the couch, almost hesitant.

It’s a small moment, but it feels like the beginning of something. You glance at him, catching his slight smirk and the way his eyes flick toward the screen—but not before they linger on you just a second too long.

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling despite yourself. “It is.”

Kevin McCallister’s family is in full-on holiday chaos, and Thor is already narrating everything happening on screen like it’s the most thrilling battle sequence he’s ever witnessed.

“This small one is quite cunning,” Thor declares as Kevin rigs up a rudimentary alarm system using toy cars and string. “His enemies shall rue the day they underestimated him!”

“Thor, buddy,” Clint says between mouthfuls of popcorn, “we’re ten minutes in. The burglars haven’t even shown up yet.”

“Then they are fools!” Thor retorts, clutching the reindeer statue—Blitzen—to his chest like a comfort object. “He will outwit them with his warrior’s guile.”

Tony leans closer to you, and you can feel the warmth of him even before he murmurs, “You ever feel like we’re babysitting a very excitable golden retriever?”

You laugh, low and quiet. “A golden retriever with lightning powers. No pressure.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest where his arm is still casually draped over the back of the couch. You don’t even notice when his fingers start to toy idly with the fabric of your sleeve.

The movie continues, and Thor’s commentary only grows more dramatic. When Kevin sets up his elaborate booby traps, Thor sits up straighter, his eyes gleaming with admiration.

“A master tactician!” he declares, and when Kevin’s paint can swings down the stairs to clobber one of the burglars, Thor actually roars with laughter. “A fine blow! Truly, this child deserves to sit at the table of warriors!”

Natasha leans toward you, whispering just loud enough for you and Tony to hear. “We should tell Thor that Kevin’s real superpower is abandonment issues.”

Tony snorts into his drink, and you elbow him lightly. “Be nice,” you say, even though you’re stifling your own laughter.

The movie progresses, and somewhere between Kevin faking a party with mannequins and setting Harry’s head on fire, you start to shift closer to Tony without even realizing it. It’s not a conscious thing—you just naturally lean toward the warmth of him, especially when his arm slides from the back of the couch to drape over your shoulders.

You think it’s just Tony being Tony—he’s always been a tactile kind of guy, quick with a casual touch or a teasing nudge—but you don’t notice the way he freezes for half a second before relaxing again, his fingers brushing lightly against your upper arm.

The truth is, Tony’s barely paying attention to the movie anymore. He’s too busy fighting the sudden, overwhelming realization that he’s completely, undeniably in love with you. It hits him somewhere between Thor’s boisterous laughter and the way your hair catches the soft glow of the Christmas lights strung across the room.

He’s Tony Stark. He’s built suits that fly, survived impossible odds, and traded snark with gods—but the idea of telling you how he feels? That terrifies him.

So, instead, he lets himself have this moment. He lets himself enjoy the way you’re snuggled against his side, your head resting lightly against his shoulder, your laughter bright and unguarded as you watch the movie.

You, of course, are blissfully unaware of the internal crisis unfolding next to you. You’re too busy giggling at Thor’s indignant outrage when one of the burglars steps on a nail.

“That would never pierce true Asgardian steel!” Thor exclaims, pounding the arm of the couch for emphasis. “These mortal feet are most fragile.”

“It’s a movie, big guy,” Clint says, tossing a popcorn kernel in Thor’s direction. “You’re supposed to suspend disbelief.”

Thor catches the kernel mid-air with surprising grace and pops it into his mouth. “A strange custom,” he mutters, but he settles back down, still cradling Blitzen.

As the movie nears its climax, you shift slightly, tucking your legs up onto the couch. Without thinking, you rest your head more firmly against Tony’s shoulder, and his arm tightens around you just a fraction.

“This is nice,” you murmur, half to yourself.

“Yeah,” Tony replies, his voice softer than you’re used to hearing. “It is.”

He doesn’t look at the screen. He doesn’t need to. The way you fit against him, the way your laughter feels like the warmest part of the room—that’s all he cares about. But he’s Tony Stark, so he masks it with a quip. “Although I’m starting to feel personally attacked by how much Kevin loves duct tape.”

You laugh, swatting at his chest lightly. “If the suit fits…”

“I’ll have you know duct tape is a versatile and invaluable tool,” he says, grinning down at you. “It’s like me—underappreciated but indispensable.”

Natasha, who’s apparently been paying more attention to you two than the movie, leans over again. “You two gonna make it through the night without bickering like an old married couple, or should we set up counseling now?”

Tony doesn’t miss a beat. “I’d make an excellent husband, for the record.”

You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks warm inexplicably. “Good to know, Tony. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He smirks, but there’s a flicker of something softer in his expression, something almost vulnerable, before he masks it with his usual bravado.

By the time the movie ends and Kevin’s family finally comes home, Thor is on his feet, applauding like he’s just witnessed the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time.

“A truly glorious tale!” he declares. “The boy is a hero of the highest caliber. I must share this story with the warriors of Asgard.”

Steve claps Thor on the back, clearly trying not to laugh. “I’m sure they’ll love it, big guy.”

The group starts to disperse after that, everyone gathering up their plates and drinks and muttering goodnights. Tony’s still sitting with you on the couch, his arm loose around your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“You staying?” he asks casually, but there’s a note of something more in his voice.

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling up at him. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

He grins, and for a moment, you think there’s something different in his eyes—something softer, warmer—but then he’s back to his usual self, teasing you about stealing the good spot on the couch.

Neither of you moves, though. The others leave, the credits roll, and the room quiets, but you and Tony stay there, comfortably tangled together under the glow of the Christmas lights.

You sit at the small kitchen table in your apartment, cradling a mug of coffee and scrolling through your phone. The morning sunlight streams through the window, catching on the tiny particles of dust floating lazily in the air. It’s quiet, peaceful, a welcome contrast to the loud, boisterous chaos of movie night at the compound. You’re mid-sip when your phone buzzes with a message, and you glance down to see the sender: “Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️.”

Tony. Of course.

You smirk to yourself—he hates that nickname, which makes it all the more satisfying that it’s what you’ve saved him as. Opening the message, you find it’s short and to the point.

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: Hey, you free tonight?

Your eyebrows raise. Not a “good morning” or even a “hope you survived Blitzen.” Classic Tony, straight to the point. You type back quickly.

You: What’s it to you, Stark?

The response comes almost immediately.

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: Just answer the question, smartass.

You laugh into your coffee, shaking your head. It’s too early for this.

You: Yeah, I’m free. Why?

This time, there’s a slight pause before his next message comes through.

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: Good. I’m picking you up at 7. Wear something nice.

You nearly choke on your coffee.

You: Excuse me? What is this?

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: It’s called dinner. People eat it.

You: Are you bribing me with food?

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: No, I’m taking you to a restaurant.

You: Is this a date, Stark?

You’re joking—mostly—but the reply that pops up a moment later makes you freeze.

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: Yeah.

You blink at the screen, half expecting the words to rearrange themselves into something less earth-shattering. They don’t.

You: Seriously?

Three dots appear, disappear, and then reappear. Somewhere across town, you know Tony is staring at his phone with the same level of panic you’re feeling.

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: Yeah. Seriously.

Your heart stumbles into a gallop, and you stare at the phone, the words it’s a date looping in your mind like a broken record. You’re equal parts thrilled and terrified, your stomach doing flips like it’s auditioning for the circus. You’ve always known Tony flirts with anything that moves, but this… this feels different.

You: Okay. I’ll be ready.

You don’t know how you manage to type it without your hands shaking. On the other side of the city, Tony is probably sweating bullets, wondering if he’s just ruined everything. But as you set your phone down and glance at the clock, the only thing you can think is, Oh, God. I have nothing to wear.

By the time you’ve finished your breakfast, you’re mentally cataloging your closet and deciding nothing in it will do. You know Tony well enough to know that when he says “wear something nice,” he doesn’t mean a cute sweater and jeans. No, he’ll have picked some ridiculously fancy place where the appetizers cost more than your electric bill.

The afternoon turns into a whirlwind of trying on every remotely elegant outfit you own. The black dress? Too basic. The navy one? No, that’s what you wore to Natasha’s birthday last year. The red one? It’s a showstopper, sure, but is it too much?

You eventually settle on a dress you haven’t worn in ages—a deep emerald green number that fits like it was tailored just for you. Pairing it with heels and some understated jewelry, you give yourself one last critical look in the mirror.

“Not bad,” you mutter to your reflection, though the butterflies in your stomach are anything but calm.

By the time 7 o’clock rolls around, you’re pacing your apartment, trying not to overthink every detail. You’ve spent the entire day replaying Tony’s text messages, dissecting every word, and now you’re a bundle of nerves.

The buzz of your phone breaks the silence, and you check it to see another message from Tin Can Man.

Tin Can Man 🚀🛠️: I’m downstairs.

Grabbing your coat and bag, you take a deep breath, steeling yourself. When you step outside, there he is, leaning casually against a sleek black car that looks like it costs more than your apartment building. He’s dressed impeccably, of course—dark suit, crisp shirt, no tie, but the top button undone just enough to scream effortless charm.

“You clean up well,” you say, trying to sound more composed than you feel.

Tony’s gaze sweeps over you, and for a moment, he doesn’t reply. His usual smirk softens into something you can’t quite place, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You look… wow,” he says finally, and it’s so un-Tony-like that you can’t help but laugh.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Stark.”

He grins, holding the car door open for you with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits, milady.”

As you slide into the car, you wonder if Tony’s as nervous as you are. If he is, he hides it well. But when he gets behind the wheel, you notice his grip on the steering wheel is just a little tighter than usual.

Neither of you says much during the drive, but the air is charged with something unspoken. When you arrive at the restaurant—a place so fancy it doesn’t even have a sign—you turn to Tony, arching an eyebrow.

“Subtle,” you tease, gesturing at the valet waiting to park the car.

Tony shrugs, smirking. “What can I say? I have a reputation to uphold.”

Inside, the restaurant is even more extravagant than you expected. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, and the soft hum of a piano drifts through the air. You’re suddenly very aware of how out of your element you feel, but Tony, ever the smooth talker, leads you to a table like he owns the place.

The evening unfolds in a blur of good food, light banter, and moments where you catch Tony looking at you with an expression that makes your cheeks warm. By the time dessert arrives, you’re no longer nervous—you’re just happy.

And maybe falling for your best friend wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

The restaurant is a swirl of elegance and opulence. You sit at a cozy, candlelit table near a window that offers a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The warm glow of the chandeliers dances off the pristine silverware, and the soft murmur of conversations fills the air like a melody. Across from you, Tony looks uncharacteristically calm—at least on the surface.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Stark,” you say, gesturing to the impeccably arranged plate in front of you. It’s some kind of artistically deconstructed dish that looks almost too pretty to eat. Almost.

“Outdoing myself is my specialty,” he replies with a wink, swirling the wine in his glass. But there’s something in his eyes, a flicker of nervousness he’s trying hard to hide.

The conversation flows easily as the courses arrive one by one. You talk about everything and nothing—the latest Avengers antics, your recent binge of terrible reality TV, and Tony’s latest tech project, which involves an overly ambitious plan to automate coffee-making robots.

“And how’s that working out?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs, grinning. “Let’s just say I’ve destroyed two espresso machines and one microwave. But progress is progress.”

You laugh, the sound filling the small bubble the two of you have created. There’s a moment of quiet, the kind that feels comfortable and loaded at the same time. Tony’s gaze lingers on you, and you suddenly feel warm, the candlelight only adding to the effect.

“What?” you ask, your voice softer now.

“Nothing,” he says quickly, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Just… you look happy. I like it.”

You blink, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his tone. Tony Stark doesn’t do sentimental—not usually. But tonight, there’s something different about him, something almost vulnerable.

When dessert is served—a rich chocolate creation that looks like it belongs in a museum—Tony leans back in his chair, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“So,” he says, “you’re enjoying yourself?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” you reply, taking a bite of the dessert. “This is probably the fanciest dinner I’ve ever had.”

His smirk widens. “Good. Because the date hasn’t even started yet.”

You freeze mid-bite, narrowing your eyes at him. “What do you mean, hasn’t started? Tony, we’re literally on a date right now.”

He stands, tossing a few bills onto the table to cover the check—because of course he doesn’t wait for the server. Extending a hand to you, he says, “Trust me, sweetheart. This was just the warm-up.”

Curiosity and excitement war in your chest as you let him lead you out of the restaurant and back to the car. Once you’re settled in, he glances at you, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

“Just… keep an open mind, okay?” he says, his voice quieter now.

“Tony Stark, what are you up to?”

“You’ll see,” he replies, his usual confidence tinged with something you can’t quite place.

The car ride is a blur, and when he finally pulls up to your next destination, your jaw drops.

The scene before you looks like something straight out of a movie—your favorite movie, to be exact. It’s an outdoor setting, lit by dozens of string lights and lanterns. A small, charming gazebo sits in the center, surrounded by fairy lights that twinkle like stars. There’s a vintage record player set up, softly playing the theme from the movie you’ve watched more times than you can count.

“Tony…” you whisper, stepping out of the car. “How did you—”

He shrugs, but there’s a hint of nervousness in his posture. “You mentioned it once. Something about how you thought this was the perfect date, so… I figured I’d give it a shot.”

You turn to him, your heart swelling so much it feels like it might burst. “You did this for me?”

“Yeah, well, don’t make a big deal out of it,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “I just wanted it to be… special.”

“Tony,” you breathe, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. “It’s perfect.”

He visibly relaxes at your words, his shoulders dropping a fraction. Taking your hand, he leads you toward the gazebo, where a small table is set with two glasses of champagne.

The two of you sit, the city’s bustle far away, the moment feeling almost surreal. You’re about to tease him about being a closet romantic when he stands suddenly, pacing a few steps before turning to face you.

“Okay,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. “I had this whole speech planned, but it’s probably terrible, and I’m gonna screw it up, but—”

“Tony,” you interrupt, standing and moving closer to him. “What’s going on?”

He takes a deep breath, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he says, his words rushing out in a way that makes your heart ache for him. “And I know I’m not exactly the easiest guy to deal with, and I probably don’t deserve you, but… I love you.”

Your breath catches.

“I love you,” he repeats, his voice steadier now. “And I want to know if you’ll—if you’ll be my girlfriend.”

For a moment, you just stare at him, the world spinning and standing still all at once. He looks so uncharacteristically vulnerable, his usual bravado stripped away, and it’s the most honest, beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Yes,” you say finally, your voice soft but sure.

His eyes widen. “Yes?”

“Yes, Tony,” you repeat, stepping closer and cupping his face in your hands. “I love you too.”

Relief floods his features, and then he’s pulling you into his arms, holding you like he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to hear that,” he murmurs against your hair.

You laugh, the sound full of joy. “You should’ve said something sooner, you idiot.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his grin finally returning. “Yeah, well, you know me. Always gotta make a scene.”

And as he leans down to kiss you, the world fades away, leaving only the warmth of his lips against yours, the twinkling lights around you, and the overwhelming feeling that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

The night sky stretches above you in all its vast, glittering glory, each star twinkling like tiny diamonds. The air is crisp but not too cold, the kind of chill that makes snuggling up feel like the best idea ever. You and Tony are still in the gazebo, but now you’re lying on a soft blanket, tucked close together, the twinkling lights overhead mixing with the stars.

Tony’s arm is wrapped around you, pulling you into his side like he doesn’t want to let go. His fingers trace light patterns along your arm, the sensation sending little shivers up your spine, though it’s not cold. It’s just him—his touch, his presence, everything about him.

You’re trying to focus on the sky, trying to keep your thoughts from wandering into how impossibly perfect this feels. The night is still, save for the soft rustling of the leaves in the trees around you, and the soft strains of the music drifting from the record player. The atmosphere feels like something out of a dream. This is a dream, right? Or maybe the best kind of reality.

“You know,” Tony says, his voice warm and full of that familiar teasing tone, “I had a whole speech planned for tonight. Thought I’d sound all suave, you know? But the second I saw you… I kinda forgot it all.”

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smile. “You were going to give a speech?”

“Of course. I was gonna be all, ‘From the moment I met you, I knew you were destined to be mine,’ or something equally charming,” he replies, pretending to sound dramatic and smooth. He exaggerates the ‘destined’ part, earning a small laugh from you.

“And why didn’t you?”

Tony shrugs, giving you an exaggerated, almost childlike look. “Well, I got distracted by how ridiculously beautiful you look tonight. Didn’t really need the speech after all.”

You snort, glancing over at him. “Oh, so now you’ve forgotten how to flirt.”

“I never forget,” he says, sounding more like a proud peacock than anything else. He shifts so he’s leaning over you just a little more, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “I just use actions to back up my words, princess.”

“Oh, really?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep the teasing tone in your voice, but your heart is already doing little somersaults in your chest.

Before you can finish your thought, Tony leans in, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose. It’s quick, playful, but there’s something in it—something that sends warmth spreading through you from your cheeks all the way down to your toes. You giggle, brushing your nose.

“That’s how you back up your words? With nose kisses?”

“Nope.” His lips hover just above your skin, and he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek. “I like to keep you on your toes.”

You grin, feeling giddy. “Well, you’re doing a good job of that, Stark.”

You tilt your head back, letting your hair spill out behind you like a waterfall, and your lips brush against his cheek in return. His breath hitches just slightly, like he wasn’t expecting it. He turns his face toward you, and suddenly his lips are on yours, soft and warm and impossibly sweet. It’s a kiss that lingers, slow and tender, and for a moment, it feels like time stands still.

He pulls back just a fraction, his forehead resting against yours. You stay like that for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of him being so close. There’s no rush, no need for words—just the soft rhythm of breathing, the beating of two hearts that finally seem in sync.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Tony murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

You grin, tilting your head to look up at him. “What? Because I’m capable of giving you a kiss on the cheek?”

“Oh, that’s not what I’m talking about, sweetheart,” Tony says, his voice suddenly softer, more vulnerable. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, and when he speaks again, there’s a tenderness in his voice that makes your chest tighten. “I’m talking about how you make me feel. How lucky I am to have you here. With me.”

You blink, heart flipping. “Tony…”

“Yeah,” he says, laughing under his breath. “I know I’m Tony Stark, but I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s got me totally wrapped around your finger.” He gives you a playful wink, but there’s something more genuine behind it.

“Look at you being all sentimental,” you tease, trying to hide the growing warmth in your chest.

He narrows his eyes playfully. “I’m sentimental for you, sweetheart. Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you reply with a soft laugh. “I think I could get used to it.”

You lean up to kiss him again, a little slower this time, but just as sweet. His hands slip around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get close enough. You’re pressed so tightly together that there’s no space left, no room for any doubts or anything that isn’t him. His lips move against yours, warm and eager, but he pulls back after a moment, his nose brushing against your cheek as he lets out a deep sigh.

“You know,” Tony says, his voice low and just a little breathless, “I’ve kissed a lot of people in my time, but none of them made me feel like this.”

You smile softly, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I’m glad I’m the exception.”

“Oh, believe me,” he mutters, leaning in for another kiss, “you’re definitely the exception.”

This kiss is different—deeper, more hungry, like he can’t quite get enough. His hands move from your waist, sliding up your back to cradle your head, pulling you even closer. You respond eagerly, feeling the heat between you growing, but Tony pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes soft and full of something you can’t quite name.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice surprisingly serious.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, I’m just… overwhelmed.”

“Good overwhelmed?” He grins, his trademark cocky smirk returning.

“Very good overwhelmed,” you reply, laughing softly. “But you have a habit of kissing me senseless, Stark. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

He chuckles, his lips hovering near yours. “Sorry, can’t help it. You just make me so… damn happy. And I haven’t even told you how amazing you look tonight. Like, I’m seriously getting distracted just looking at you.”

You blush at the compliment, but Tony doesn’t give you much time to respond before he leans down and kisses you again, this time slower, gentler, with a lingering tenderness that makes your heart race in a different way. His lips are soft and warm, and when he pulls back, you’re both breathless, eyes fluttering open to meet each other.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” you say, your voice teasing, but there’s a hint of something deeper in it now.

Tony grins, clearly pleased with himself. “I’m pretty sure you just made my night. I’m never letting you go, you know.”

You laugh, poking him lightly in the chest. “Not that I’m complaining, but I think I might be the one who’s going to keep you.”

Tony presses another kiss to your lips, this one playful, with a promise of more to come. He can’t stop himself now. He wants you—he wants you in a way that feels almost primal, like he’s not willing to let go of you, ever. You feel the same.

“Good,” he whispers against your lips. “Because you’re stuck with me now.”

As the night continues, you both stay there, tangled together on the blanket, lost in the sweetness of the moment, kissing, laughing, and just enjoying the quiet joy of being with each other. There’s no rush, no expectation—just the two of you, finally figuring out that this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

And for the first time in a long time, you don’t need anything else. Just Tony. And maybe a few more kisses.

The Avengers Tower’s common room is buzzing with excitement as movie night rolls around again, but this time, there’s a palpable change in the air. It's been a few weeks since you and Tony officially became a couple, and everyone can feel the shift. The usual dynamic is the same—loud chatter, snacks being passed around, and the occasional argument over what movie to watch—but there's something different now, something that makes every glance between you and Tony feel a little more charged. And you know exactly what it is.

As you walk into the room, hand in hand with Tony, the team falls silent for a brief moment before an uproar of teasing starts. Steve looks up from his phone and winks. Natasha smirks. Thor chuckles, and Clint just shakes his head with an exaggerated sigh. You and Tony sit down on the couch, the atmosphere now a mix of curiosity and playful mockery.

"So," Steve begins with that too-innocent expression on his face, "what are we watching tonight? Another Christmas classic?"

"Well, it is still December," Tony replies, his hand slipping to the back of your chair. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he adds in a low, teasing voice, "But we can make it even more special, you know. I was thinking of a Christmas movie marathon… just the two of us."

You glance over at him, surprised at the suggestion. It’s not like Tony to offer a quiet, cozy evening without any extra flair, but for some reason, the idea of spending the night with him like that, away from everyone else, feels… comforting. You smile, leaning toward him and resting your head on his shoulder. "I like that idea," you murmur, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

The team watches you both, exchanging amused looks, and it only takes a second for Clint to speak up.

"Guys, seriously? Are we watching a Christmas movie or just watching you two get all… lovey-dovey for two hours?" He throws his hands up in exasperation. "It's like all you do now."

"Hey," Tony says, lifting an eyebrow as he shoots Clint a look. "We are on a date."

"Yeah, a date with a group of people who are very interested in your every move." Natasha’s voice is dry, but there's a playful sparkle in her eyes.

"Ugh, gross," Clint mutters, pretending to gag, but the smirk on his face betrays the fact that he's more entertained than anything else.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile that spreads across your face at their teasing. Tony, meanwhile, seems to thrive on the attention, leaning back a little too dramatically and pulling you closer to his side.

“I’m just a lucky guy,” Tony says with that smug smile of his, squeezing your shoulder. "Do you all see what I have to deal with? She’s perfect."

"Sure, Stark, you’re the lucky one," Clint mutters, dramatically pulling out a bag of chips from the table and shoving a handful into his mouth.

“You know,” Thor says from the armchair where he’s lounging, “when a mortal finds true love, it should be celebrated. It is a noble thing, indeed!” He raises his mug of beer as if toasting you both. "May you two share many winters together in joy."

"Aw, thanks, Thor." You smile at the god of thunder, and Tony gives you a mock bow.

"Let’s just try to survive the night without any more of that emotional stuff, okay?" Steve says, giving you a wink. "We’re here to watch a movie, not get too intense."

You lean into Tony with a smile, enjoying the teasing atmosphere. But, of course, Tony has to make it worse—or better, depending on how you look at it.

“Hey, don’t act like we’re not entertaining you guys. Who else is going to give you this much material to work with, huh?” He shrugs and adjusts his arm around you, pulling you closer, his hand resting casually on your thigh. “Besides, we love a little public display of affection.”

“Oh, we know,” Clint says with a mock groan, covering his eyes dramatically. "We’ve seen enough PDA to last a lifetime."

"Yeah, but have you seen this?" Tony asks, his eyes glinting mischievously as he pulls you closer. Without warning, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, and then another on the top of your head.

The room falls into an exaggerated silence as everyone stares.

“Really, Tony?” Steve raises an eyebrow, a look of disbelief on his face.

“Come on, Cap. It’s just a kiss,” you reply, though your voice is full of suppressed laughter.

“Yeah, a thousand kisses,” Clint quips from across the room, rolling his eyes. “At least they’re not making out in front of us—that would be too much.”

“Oh, don’t tempt us, Clint,” Tony smirks, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek, his lips hovering just above yours for a beat. It’s sweet and intimate, but just teasing enough to make everyone squirm.

“Okay, okay,” Natasha finally says, throwing her hands up. “We get it. You’re in love. Just pick a movie already, or we’re going to have to find some other way to get the room’s attention.”

You both laugh, and Tony gives her a playful wink before leaning back into the couch, pulling you with him. You settle against him, your head resting on his chest, the warmth of his body comforting. It’s nice like this—cozy, familiar, and surrounded by people who you know are teasing just because they’re happy for you.

"So," Tony says, looking around the room and clearing his throat. "We decided on a Christmas movie marathon, but only if everyone can behave. If we end up with more sarcastic commentary and eye-rolls, we might have to take it to the bedroom and really make it a private affair.”

“Ugh, no, no,” Clint says, holding his hands up in mock horror. "We’ll behave. Promise."

Tony grins, clearly enjoying every second of this, before pressing the play button on the remote. The opening credits of Love Actually start to roll, and everyone immediately starts making playful comments. You can’t help but chuckle as Tony holds you a little tighter, clearly amused by the bickering happening around you.

As the movie continues, you get wrapped up in the warmth of the scene, the silly moments, and the subtle sweetness of the holiday cheer. You settle deeper into Tony’s side, your head resting against his shoulder, his arm draped comfortably over your waist. His fingers gently stroke your arm as the two of you share quiet conversations during the more emotional parts of the movie. Every so often, he presses soft kisses to the top of your head, as if reminding you—and everyone else—that you belong to each other.

The teasing continues from the others, but there’s an undeniable affection in it all. They’re all happy for you both, even if it’s a little strange for them to see Tony—Tony Stark, the self-proclaimed playboy billionaire—acting like a lovesick puppy in front of the entire team.

“Man, you really went all out,” Clint says after a particularly emotional scene, turning to Tony with a raised eyebrow. “You even went for Love Actually. What’s next? A romantic comedy marathon?”

“Anything for my girl,” Tony responds easily, and the way he says it, so casually but so full of affection, makes your heart swell.

“I can’t wait to see you two try to top this next year,” Natasha says, her tone playful, though there’s a softness to it as well.

“I don’t even want to know,” Steve chimes in, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But I’m guessing this is only the beginning, huh?”

“Hey, if I’m going all in, I’m going all in,” Tony replies, glancing down at you with that loving look that makes your heart skip. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

You smile up at him, and his expression softens just enough for you to feel the weight of his words. There’s no doubting how much he means it. And for a moment, the world outside of this room seems to disappear as you’re surrounded by the people who feel like family—your family.

The movie goes on, the mood light and easy, and Tony’s kisses come more frequently, not because he has to, but because he simply can’t seem to stop himself. And you don’t mind one bit.

By the time the movie ends, the Avengers are sprawled around the room in varying degrees of comfort. Tony gives you one last lingering kiss before pulling away just enough to look at you with a grin.

“I think we’ve officially made movie night our tradition now,” he says with a satisfied nod.

“Definitely,” you agree, your fingers gently tracing the fabric of his shirt. “Just us… and the team watching us get all cheesy.”

“Hey, it’s our tradition,” Tony replies with a wink. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With a contented sigh, you rest your head on his shoulder again, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the softness of his kisses lingering on your lips, and the comforting certainty that, despite the teasing, you and Tony are exactly where you’re meant to be.

And as the Avengers disperse, still chuckling under their breaths, you know you’ve found a tradition that will be cherished for years to come—just you, Tony, and an endless amount of Christmas movies.

[shower-phantom-ideas]

More au stuf lets gooooooooo

Danny keeps masks of each superhero for when he visits their citys/towns/wtfe to wear while heroing there.

He 100% knows it just Amity Parks problem that they don’t connect Fenton and Phantom and he doesn’t wanna be outed and chanced around by the government in both forms. So he needs a mask. Well he has shit taste and both Sam and Tucker dismissed any he made so he said “fuck it ill use theirs” and just gets cheap costume masks for all the heros.

Why is he going from town to town though? Dani is taking him on a tour of all the best and weirdest food trucks she has found on her travels. Who cares if CW also has some missions for him while hes in those towns. Hes here for the food 100% sorry Clocky u r a side quest.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

this cliff took more lives than i could on my own im losing it

[vikwrites]

" DAEMONUIUM " - Tony Stark

Chapter Summary ➣ The Fall of Stark Castle. Pairing ➣ Fallen Prince!Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 611 words Chapter Warnings ➣ Medieval! AU, Slow Burn, Violence, Major Character Death. Author's Notes ➣ An idea by @welldonekhushi, a bit different to what I usually write, next chapter will hopefully provide more context. Thank you to my lovely beta reader @nicoline1998enilocin <3

Prologue - Overture

The rope felt rough against the Prince’s neck.

Tapestries of silk, once proudly displaying the kingdom’s colours and emblems, have been shredded from their rods, some burnt into meagre piles of ash; the rest torn by the passage of time and faded by the harsh sun. 

The throne, once a shining beacon in the grand hall, now stands in solitude. Its layers of gold leaf have been stripped away, revealing the cold iron underneath. The brilliant gemstones that adorned its surface have been pillaged and looted, leaving only empty settings behind. The rows of stained glass windows, each depicting a moment of the kingdom's triumphs, are now shattered, their intricate designs marred into shards. 

The peasants stormed the palace. They came in hordes of near thousands, pitchforks and flames in hand. The grand doors splintered under their force, crashing open to reveal the opulent corridors within. The echoes of their cries reverberated off the stone walls as they surged forward, a seething mass of defiance against the monarchy. The nobles, once standing proud and untouchable, now cowered in their gilded chambers, the unfortunate ones having been slaughtered in cold blood.

The same could not be said for the Prince. For he ran, like a swift wind through every nook and cranny of the castle — up twisting stairwells, down spiralling towers — the peasant’s voices like cries of the damned — the walls quaking with emancipated rage, like the first leak in the wall of a dam, forewarning that nothing could hold for long. His patterned robe dragged upon the floor, stained red with blue blood.

His legs could only carry him so far; he found himself perched at the edge of the turret, overlooking the dark horizon and the sheer drop into the ocean below, the waves crashing against the splintered rocks. He could hear the peasants’ voices as they approached, drawing closer by the second. It dawned on him that death was not a matter of when, but how.

“ There he is, ”  — fear became a tangible, living force, creeping over his figure like some ravenous beast, holding him in a standstill — “ Seize him! ” 

The Prince was bound; not by silver shackles or golden chains, but by simple rope. He was marched like cattle out of the palace gates, being put on as a barbaric display of irreverence; a sovereign turned laughing stock in the span of a night. The peasants scrambled like rats, just for the chance to witness the spectacle. 

Amidst the crackling of bonfires and the scorching heat. His body trembled with cold, but his mind burned with anger — with memories of the firelight still drifting like phantoms in his brain. 

Tears fall from the Prince’s eyes. They meander down his cheeks. 

That fateful second before the floorboards dropped, the Prince pondered if he had anything left to save in death.  He stands in solitude on the gallows. While the Cardinal recited blessings in Latin, the words in the people’s mouths were nothing but curses, laced with vitriol and the name of the Devil, lashing out like a bitten and cornered dog, condemning him to the deepest rings of Hell.

The creak of the floorboards, the roar of the crowd — these were among the last things he would hear before he died. His eyes did not bear remorse; instead, they held shame, to be stripped from the high chambers of the castle and reduced to the same fate as a lowly outlaw. 

What he’d give to be a young prince again, adorned with jewels and veneration — now he’s traded in his necklace for a noose — 

The Prince took his last few straggling breaths, and the floor gave way beneath him.

⎊ back to masterlist

[fanartka]

imagine Doctor Strange meeting Tony before the car accident. Or maybe it's Khan?

[yandere-wishes]

Okay, okay, I have an alarming list of fics to write before my summer vacay is over. BUT...

Would anyone like a Yandere Tony Stark x reader? I know Marvel isn't even remotely popular (or even liked) anymore. Still, the original movies are very dear to me. And this character specifically has always had a special place in my heart. Since it's summer and I'm starting to feel nostalgic I figured why not write for the legend himself?

So should I write it? Does anyone want to be tagged if I do?

[mostly-marvel-musings]

If combining prompts is allowed, can you do “Tease me some more and I’ll show you my reaction.” + “Hmm, is that a threat or a promise?” for Tony Stark, please?

A/N: This is just a little something! I changed it up a bit. Tony’s a little shit. Enjoy :)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

.

He was doing it on purpose. Knowing just how much it riled you up.

Tony Stark. The billionaire. The exhibitionist. The fucking tease.

Clad in the damned black tank that glowed faint blue right in the middle, hair in such disarray it made you want to run your fingers through them and perhaps give them a harsh tug. He deserved it.

It had been distracting enough with that devil tongue of his that peeked out every once in a while to wet his bottom lip. His choice of clothing effectively showed off that toned upper body. Ripped arms with veins popping that had your core clench around nothing, chiseled abs evident through the thin piece of black fabric and the red goggles that hid his gorgeous brown eyes. Damn it. He was a sight.

And he was well aware of the effect he had on you. The smug bastard. He would go to any lengths to make you admit your feelings. Feelings you had carefully concealed so far.

Thankful that the work desk hid your lower body, you kept your head down as you squeezed your thighs together in attempts to relieve some of the sexual frustration. But nothing quite missed Tony’s eye. Especially when he was on this personal mission.

You heard a water splash that made you look up. Big mistake. 

Tony had ‘accidentally’ spilled water down his tank top and was taking it off agonisingly slowly, a show put up just for you. His taut muscles gleamed under the artificial lights of his lab as he undressed, dabbing his wet skin as he traipsed in your line of vision once again.

“Tease me some more and I’ll show you my reaction.” You mumbled under your breath, giving yourself a mental shake as your mind conjured up an image in which you were bent of the very desk you sat at, while the genius mechanic railed you from behind.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He murmured, giving his signature smirk as he leaned forward, his stupidly handsome face mere inches away.

Tony Stark was a man determined to have your stubborn ass under him by the end of the day. And quite safe to say, he succeeded.

[amasterpieceofmadness]

How the Marvel men treat you on Valentines Day

pairings Tony Stark x reader warnings none, teeth rotting fluff, implied smut

masterlist

Tony would definitely surprise you with a trip to one of Europe’s cities. Paris, Rome, London, doesn’t matter, he will choose whatever you like the most. You will stay in an expensive hotel, penthouse of course, of which’s balcony you have a stunning view of the city. On Valentines Day you would find a note on the bed from him, lying on top of a little box. “Meet me at 8 in the lobby, love, Tony” And as you open the box you find a beautiful new dress in your favorite color in it. Of course, you try it on and it fits perfectly. As you step into the lobby you immediately catch Tonys eye and he smirks at you. “Hey, love. You look stunning” His hands on your waist, pulling you to him and pressing a soft and loving kiss to yours. He then extends his arm for you to take and together you go to a fancy restaurant. After a nice evening, the two of you return to the hotel. At first you enjoy the view of the night skyline, his arms wrapped around you from behind, a glass of champagne in your hand. Tony starts to softly kiss your neck, and finally he takes the glass carefully out of your hands and makes you turn around to look at him. He looks you deep in the eyes and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “I love you” he whispers before putting his lips onto yours. I think we all know how this is going to end.

[animealways]

Tony: no matter what circumstances whatever you do never bet with my kid

Avengers: ok?

Later that day

Sam: hey!

Y/n standing on a balcony: what!?

Sam: i bet 10 bucks you won't ju-

Y/n jumps down from the third floor and only gets a broken foot: now where is my money bitch

Sam: wha da fu-

Tony: damn it! Not again how the fuck am i gonna explain this shit to pepper!?

[lilylovelyxo]

*Tony and Pepper talking about their daughter.*

Pepper: “Y/N just got her learner’s permit.”

Tony: “We’ve been taking turns driving with her.”

—— *describing various experiences*——

*Tony and Y/N driving.*

Tony sitting in the passenger seat inspecting car interior. : “This navigation system is all messed up. It thinks we’re in a park.”

Tony looks up and panics: “Oh my god! It is a park! Away from the kids! Aim for the lake! Oh my god!”

Y/N screaming: “I don’t want to die!”

[mischievous-thunder]