#tony stark x reader

[bvrnesher]

❝ 𝒫ull 𝒪ut 𝒢ame ! ❞ ― marvel !

summary: just what I think of each of these characters when it comes to pull out 🗣

— 𝒮teve ℛogers ;; He likes to think he’s good at it. And honestly? He is. Respectful, controlled, painfully self-aware. The second he feels himself getting close, he speeds up, grits his teeth, and pulls out right on time—usually on your stomach or chest. Gentleman. HOWEVER—deep, deep down? He does have a breeding kink. He just won’t admit it. The day you whisper “it’s okay, I’m on the pill”? He hesitates just long enough to ruin his perfect record.

Rating: 10/10. Practically flawless. Just a little too responsible.

— 𝒯ony 𝒮tark ;; This man cums like he’s paying rent. He could pull out. He knows how. Won’t. He’s like, “You knew the risk,” and just lets go. Finishes inside you with a smirk, kisses your temple like he didn’t just pump you full, and asks for another round like nothing happened.

Rating: 7/10. Could pull out. Ignores it. Still makes it hot.

— ℬucky ℬarnes ;; NO WAY this man is risking it, but for the sake of the game, let’s say he tries. He means to pull out. He really does. But the second you tighten around his cock when he’s close? Too late. He’s already twitching, already filling you up. Feels guilty after, mutters apologies, but ask him for another round and he forgets all about it.

Rating: 5/10. Tries. Fails. Feels bad. Does it again.

— 𝒯hor 𝒪dinson ;; Sweetheart himbo with the pull-out instincts of a golden retriever. You tell him “pull out,” and he’s like, “But why, beloved?” while thrusting deeper. His idea of affection is cumming in you until it’s leaking down your thighs and calling it “a gift from the gods.”

Rating: 0/10. He means well. That’s the problem.

— ℒoki ℒaufeyson ;; Oh, he can pull out. He just won’t—unless it’s to tease you. Otherwise? He stays buried until the very end, groaning in your ear about how good you feel while he fills you up. He wants to watch it drip out. It’s about power. Ownership. Ruin. You say “pull out”? He says “make me.”

Rating: 0/10. Wicked.

— 𝒫eter 𝒫arker ;; He’s studied the theory. He wants to pull out. He really does. But the second things start getting too good? He’s whimpering, cock twitching, finishing inside you before he even realizes it. Apologizes mid-orgasm and offers to run to the pharmacy still inside you.

Rating: 3/10. He tries. He panics. He fails.

— ℰrik 𝒦illmonger ;; Pull out? Babe, he hears you say it and smirks. Doesn’t even pretend to listen. Holds your hips down, grinds in deeper, and finishes inside like he means it. Tells you “You better take all that,” like it’s a challenge and a threat. Might pull out once—just to finish on your face and call it a reward. But most nights? He’s filling you up like it’s his personal mission.

Rating: -100/10. He’s doing it on purpose. You’re not walking right tomorrow.

[buckysslut]

holy. mother. fucking. shit

i’m all for bucky. i love bucky.

… but oh my god the things i’d let tony stark do to me

this fic does not have the amount of likes it deserves jesus fucking christ this is ART if i’ve ever seen it

Open Up Baby

Title: Open Up Baby Pairing: Tony Stark  x Female Reader

Summary: Tony Stark straps you into a StarkTech-compatible bench for a private demonstration of his newest toys- complete with biometric feedback,

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, SMUT… BDSM/Restraints/Bondage, custom tech ball gag, toys (Egg vibe, anal beads, dildo)  Overstimulation, Toy fucking/Machine-assisted thrusting, Filthy talk (Tony can't shut up), AI assists with data tracking, clinical observation, forced openness, Sensory overload

A/N: my entry for  @avengers-assemble-bingo  for April Kinky Bingo… Well this one turned into a whole thing.. Square: B2- Open Up Baby  Card Number: KB003

You were already strapped to the bench- back arched, thighs spread wide in glossy chrome stirrups, wrists bound snug in Stark-grade cuffs that didn’t budge an inch. The synthetic leather beneath you was cool against your skin, but your body was already starting to heat with anticipation. The bench itself shifted slightly with every movement, like it was reading your tension, calibrating every twitch of your muscles into data Tony could access later.

You could hear the soft hum of the room’s ambient systems, the low mechanical whirrs, the faint electric pulse of tech running in standby, and underneath it all, Tony’s voice. He hummed absently as he moved around you, flicking through translucent holoscreens that floated in the air, readable only to him. Light glinted off his arc reactor through the thin black shirt he wore, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, veins flexing with every subtle flick of his fingers.

He looked like a scientist. Or a surgeon. No, a goddamn artist.

“You look tense,” he murmured, stepping in close, his fingers grazing your jaw with a feather-light touch. “That won’t do. We need to get a clean read. No clenched teeth, no locked jaws. Just you- open and…relaxed.”

He held up a sleek piece of tech. A mix of leather and metal. To you it looked like a ball gag. That wasn’t just a gag. It was his gag. Something custom. Personal. Laced with Stark Industry Tech.

“Open up, baby. Gotta install the biometric reader. It’s not science without a baseline.”

You hesitated, lips twitching. Just for a second. But he didn’t push. He just waited you out, smirk deepening, one brow arched like he had all the time in the world. That cocky, knowing gaze made you squirm even before anything touched you. Your breath hitched. And then you parted your lips.

“There we go,” he said, tone thick with approval as he slid the gag into place. It clicked against your teeth, snug and firm. A soft vibration flickered across your tongue as it locked in pushing the muscle down.

Friday’s voice chimed in overhead, calm and clinical.

“Gag calibration complete. Biometric sync active. Tracking vocal response, saliva levels, and tongue pressure.”

Tony leaned down, brushing his lips across your cheek in a whisper of a kiss. “Good girl. Now let’s get to work.”

He started with the egg.

Sleek. Silver. Pulsing faintly in his hand like it had a heartbeat of its own. The metal shimmered under the clinical lights, smooth and polished, shaped with the kind of precision that only Stark could deliver. He turned it over once, twice, like he was admiring a prized gadget- one that he was particularly proud of.

He showed it to you like a doctor unveiling a revolutionary new tool- calm, confident, deeply amused. Except this wasn’t a sterile exam room, and the look in his eyes wasn’t professional. His smirk told you he already knew what kind of mess this thing would reduce you to.

"This is your warm-up," he said, voice low and playful. "Phase One. Internal warming protocol. Testing receptivity. Calibration through heat and pulse response."

You whimpered into the gag. Of course you were excited- he’d been teasing you with this little 'demonstration' all week. Whispering promises in your ear, tapping out reminders on your thigh, dropping technical jargon laced with filth that left your core throbbing before he’d even touched you. Now that it was finally happening, your whole body was buzzing with need.

He didn't wait. He moved closer, one gloved hand parting your thighs a little further, the other settling between them. The bench adjusted beneath you, lifting your hips another inch to meet his touch perfectly. His fingers dipped between your folds- testing your wetness, teasing you just enough to make your body jerk in its bonds.

"Already responsive," he muttered, half to himself, half to Friday. "She’s going to be a dream to log."

He slid the egg in with two fingers, slow and deliberate. The cool metal kissed your entrance, making you flinch slightly- it was colder than you expected, stark contrast against your heated skin. Your walls instinctively tried to resist, clenching down, but his fingers were patient, coaxing you open, parting you around the sleek, unyielding toy.

The egg slid upward, heavy and smooth. As it moved deeper, your body yielded to it, the slow stretch making your breath catch. Its contours were designed to press into every sensitive spot, and you could feel your muscles fluttering around it, trying to accommodate the sudden fullness. As he pushed it deeper, you could feel every inch of it being swallowed by your body, your slick muscles tightening, fluttering around the intrusion.

He pushed the egg up high inside you, then paused, his finger still inside you too. "Squeeze for me," he ordered. You did, instinctively, your walls closing down as you used your pelvic floor, and Tony gave the platic string attached a soft tug.

The stretch, the resistance- it was delicious. The egg stayed locked in place. You couldn’t push it out if you tried. He smiled, clearly pleased.

"Perfect. Secure fit," he murmured. "Wouldn’t want it popping out mid-test."

It settled deep inside you, a sinful throb blooming in your core. Then it pulsed- just once, a quick flutter that made you jolt.

"There we go," he breathed, watching the screen light up with new data. "Didn’t even turn it on yet and she’s already going. Fuck, I love this job."

You were barely processing the first toy when he reached for the second.

Beads. Tapered, growing in size, each one gleamed under the soft blue lighting like tiny pieces of futuristic art. You squirmed, thighs pressing together, but it was no use- Stark had seen your reaction.

Tony laughed- low and delighted.

"Didn’t know we were going there, huh?" He nudged your knees apart again, voice dipping to a darker octave. "Come on, baby. I want you to open up for me. Let’s see what this one does..."

You shook your head slightly. Whimpered into the gag. Wide eyes watching him as you tried to protest around the ball gag in your mouth. 

Tony turned to the tray beside him, selecting a small, frost-blue tube of gel. "Wouldn't be very considerate to skip prep," he muttered, more to himself than to you. He uncapped the tube and squeezed a slow, deliberate line of the slick, glistening substance along the length of the beads. The gel shimmered faintly under the light, warming as it reacted with the ambient temperature.

He coated each bead carefully, fingers moving with methodical ease, making sure the entire string was evenly slicked. "Lubricated. Body-safe. Custom formula," he said with a wink. "Slippery enough to slide in smooth- sticky enough to stay in place until I say otherwise."

Then he held the beads up for you to see, the string dangling between his fingers. You tensed instinctively.

"Oh no. You’re freezing up. Can’t test properly if you don’t behave. Legs. Open."

You didn’t.

Tony tsked, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. Then he grabbed your chin, firm and steady, tilting your head so your eyes locked with his.

"Don't think so much. That’s not what good test subjects do."

Click.

The bench tilted beneath you without warning. Your hips rolled upward, knees falling further apart as the restraints auto-adjusted. You were fully exposed now- helpless. Wide open.

"You know I can override those restraints, right? I built them. Now be a good girl and show me everything."

He dipped his finger back into the gel and brought it to your ass, pressing a cool dollop directly to your tight, puckered entrance. The sudden chill made you flinch, but it was followed by the warm glide of his fingertip as he gently teased the gel in slow circles.

"You tense here, too," he said, amused. "Don't worry. This formula warms up just like you do."

He rubbed it in carefully, working the gel into your rim with delicate, coaxing pressure. The sensation tingled- both from the temperature shift and the way his finger circled and pressed until your body finally began to relent.

Then he lowered the beads between your cheeks and began to press them in- one at a time. The first slid in easily, the gel working its magic, cool and slick. The second made your breath stutter. The third had your whole body tensing as your hole stretched just enough to accommodate the new pressure.

Each one pulled a different, desperate noise from you- somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, caught in the back of your throat and forced through the gag in broken fragments.

By the time the third bead settled inside you, you felt full. Stretched in ways that left you panting, your back arching hard off the bench. Everything was working together- the deep pressure of the egg nestled high in your core, the hum beginning to buzz through your clit like a phantom, and now the slow, firm intrusion of the beads pressing against nerves that had you seeing stars. You struggled to catch your breath, the gag forcing each inhale to be short and choppy. Air hissed through your nose while your mouth flooded with saliva, spit slipping from the corners of your lips in thick strands that slid down your neck and onto your chest. The overwhelming heat of arousal and frustration tangled in your gut, building like steam with nowhere to escape. The restraint of it made the fire inside you burn hotter.

Your muscles clenched involuntarily, your hips rocking against the air, chasing friction that didn’t come. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t beg. Just drool, tremble, and take everything he gave you.

"Mmm. That moan? That was bead three. She likes that one, Friday."

"Confirmed," the AI replied. "Pelvic floor tension rising. Heart rate increasing."

"Good. Means it’s working."

The egg began to heat. The beads hummed in sync, and you felt everything shift- internally and externally- as pleasure bled into pressure, and pressure into overload. You were trembling now, thighs twitching again, trying to close- but the bench held you wide, utterly exposed.

"Heart rate’s spiking..." Tony’s voice was pure, filthy glee. "Oh, she’s gonna break soon. Look at her squirm."

You rutted against the air, clit untouched and screaming for attention. Your walls fluttered around the egg, your ass clenching down against the beads as the different pulses overlapped and collided. It was all too much and somehow not enough. You needed more and needed it to stop, all at once.

You tried to breathe, but the gag made it impossible to take anything but shallow, panting gasps. Each exhale was laced with a moan. Drool spilled freely down your chin, dripping warm across your face and neck. You were flushed, messy, wrecked- and he hadn’t even touched your clit.

Your back arched violently off the bench, cords of heat coiling through your belly and thighs. It felt like your body was unraveling, muscles tight and desperate, nerve endings screaming with pleasure.

Tony leaned in again, voice dark and syrup-smooth. "We’ve got her plugged, egged, and ready to combust. Think she can handle the next phase?"

Friday answered, "Orgasm build-up at 87%."

"Perfect." He tapped a command into the air. "Now let’s push her."

The egg pulsed deeper. The beads vibrated sharper. You cried out- moaning, writhing, the gag muffling it into raw, incoherent noise. You couldn’t form words. Couldn’t beg. Just sob through the pressure building to a breaking point.

"Baby, this is science. Filthy, beautiful science."

It hit you like a wave- white-hot and all-consuming. Your legs shook violently in the stirrups, muscles spasming as your body locked around the egg and beads pulsing inside you. Every nerve ending fired in chaotic pleasure, overwhelming your senses. You tried to scream, to sob, but the gag reduced it to a shattered, strangled cry that vibrated through the tech, each desperate noise dutifully logged.

Drool spilled in long, wet strands down your chin as your back bowed hard off the bench, your whole body trembling under the assault of pleasure. Your cunt clenched tight around the egg, milking it involuntarily, while your ass throbbed with each hum of the vibrating beads. Everything inside you was pulsing, moving, grinding you down into submission.

Tony watched, transfixed, his gaze locked on your ruined, shaking form. “There she goes - God, I should patent that moan.”

Your eyes rolled back. You could barely breathe. You could only tremble and leak and convulse as the orgasm tore through you. The bench beneath you vibrated subtly with your body’s response.

Friday: "Orgasm confirmed."

Tony waited until you were trembling, your breathing uneven, your thighs still twitching with aftershocks that rippled through your overstimulated body. Sweat slicked your skin in a thin, glistening sheen, catching the light as your chest heaved with broken gasps around the gag. Your limbs strained weakly against the restraints.

Then- slowly, methodically- he reached between your cheeks and took hold of the first bead. He didn’t rush. He eased it out one at a time, each slick orb dragging along your inner walls with a sticky, stretching glide. You shuddered at the sensation- the unbearable emptiness that bloomed in the wake of each removal. Your ass clenched reflexively around the loss, trying to hold onto what had filled you so completely. But he kept going.

The final bead popped free with a slick, obscene sound. Your hips jolted involuntarily, your back arching once more as your body spasmed again, clinging to the ghost of sensation.

Friday's voice crackled overhead. "Anal pressure reduced. Sphincter still contracting. She’s experiencing post-orgasmic muscle spasms."

Then came the egg.

He curled his fingers inside you, tugging the retrieval loop with a firm, practiced motion. The egg slipped free, wet and shiny,  your cunt fluttering uselessly around the sudden void. The stretch, the drag, the warmth- it all left you aching. You cried into the gag, overwhelmed by the emptiness and the continued tremors in your muscles. Your thighs kicked slightly, your knees drawing in as far as the restraints would allow.

"Vaginal walls contracting. Core temperature still elevated. She's not done trembling yet," Friday observed, calm as ever.

Tony held both toys in one hand now- wet, warm, shining. He looked down at you with naked satisfaction.

"That’s some damn good tech," he said. "But we’re not done."

From the tray, he lifted his final piece.

A dildo- sleek, deep grey, Stark-stamped at the base. Modeled after him, and you knew it. Maybe a little bigger. Slightly wider at the base, with delicate ridges along the underside that hinted at something extra. Your breath caught just looking at it.

“This one’s special, baby. Built it from memory- well, from yours,” Tony said, rolling it in his hand. “Temperature regulated, pressure-sensitive, and the best part? The internal sensors sync to your contractions. It responds to you. The more you clench, the deeper it drives. A perfect loop.”

You whimpered around the gag, heart fluttering.

He moved between your spread legs and lined it up against your soaked, fluttering entrance. You were already sensitive- still trembling from the last orgasm- and when the wide tip pressed in, you nearly cried. It stretched you slowly, steadily, a little more than you were used to. Your slick walls resisted at first, clenching down instinctively, but Tony was patient, guiding it with precise control.

“There you go,” he coaxed, voice smooth but sharp-edged with amusement. “That’s it. Take all of it. Come on, baby- I know you can..”

His tone dipped into a purr. “There you go. Taking it like you need it. Bet you love being filled up with Stark-grade tech, huh?”

Your back bowed off the bench as he pushed it in, inch by inch, your pussy yielding to every contour, forced to accommodate the full shape of it. The fullness was delious, your body stretched taut around it. Your eyes rolled back as the final ridge slipped inside, the toy settling deep.

“There,” he said, watching your reactions with fascination. “Fills you out just right. And now... we see what she can really do.”

The base clicked into a pulse pattern, and the toy began to move inside you- slow at first, deliberate, like it was learning your shape. You could feel every textured ridge of the shaft as it rubbed against your inner walls, dragging across oversensitive flesh, sparking little detonations of pleasure with every pass.

Then it pulsed- long and low, a rhythmic thrum that radiated from base to tip, sending heat spiraling through your belly. With every thrust, the toy seemed to stretch you deeper, nudging a spot that made your toes curl and your thighs twitch against the restraints. Your pussy clenched around it reflexively, triggering the internal sensors Tony had mentioned. And just like that, the toy responded- pressing harder, thrusting deeper, faster.

It wasn’t just fucking you- it was reading you, syncing to the wild flutter of your muscles, pulsing in tandem with your arousal.

“Look at her,” Tony murmured, grinning as he watched the toy disappear again and again between your legs. “Every little squeeze makes it work harder. You’re doing this to yourself, baby. And I haven’t even touched your clit yet.”

You’d been so consumed by the thrusting inside you, by the stretch and pulse of the toy, that you hadn’t even noticed Tony move. But suddenly, he was there- looming over you, and the egg was pressed directly to your clit.

The sensation was immediate and brutal.

Your entire body jolted. The contact felt almost painful, your nerves raw and exposed, the stimulation electric. You tried to buck away, hips arching, thighs trembling, but you had nowhere to go.

Tony caught you effortlessly. One hand shoved the egg against your swollen clit, refusing to relent, while the other pressed down on your thigh to keep your knees from closing.

“Uh uh. None of that,” he said smoothly. “You don’t get to hide from this, baby. You earned it.”

You sobbed into the gag, thrashing your hips side to side, but the bench and Tony’s hands made escape impossible. Every attempt to squirm just sent the dildo thrusting deeper inside you, and the egg grinding cruelly over your clit.

“You’re not gonna break,” he whispered, teasing. “You’re gonna burn for me.”

"Don’t you dare run from it. look at me."

He was holding you still- one hand clamped over your thigh to keep your legs spread, the other pressing the egg mercilessly to your clit. You were trembling in his grasp, utterly helpless against the merciless pairing of his tech and his control.

"You’re gonna come again for me, sweetheart. Real data’s in the repeat response," he said, eyes locked on yours, voice both commanding and hungry.

The dildo thrust deep, the ridges grinding against your most sensitive spots as your walls clamped down. The egg buzzed brutally against your swollen clit, so overstimulated you couldn’t tell whether you were trying to run from it or chase it. Every jolt of pleasure lit your nerves like lightning- white-hot and impossible to hold back.

Your body jerked, hips spasming, thighs trembling violently as the sensations overloaded you. Your entire body was working against you- every clench, every twitch, every gasp just triggered the toy to go deeper, harder, faster. You weren’t riding it anymore- it was riding you, and Tony just watched with that devilish smirk, keeping you wide open.

“That's it. Shake for me. Scream into that gag. Show me what science can do.”

The climax tore through you without mercy- harder, deeper, a violent unraveling of every nerve as your body convulsed around the relentless rhythm of the tech inside you. You didn’t just come; you shattered, splintering open in a release so intense it blurred your vision, your mind, your ability to distinguish pleasure from pain. Your vision shattered into sparks, your scream muffled into a raw, hoarse noise behind the gag. Your body thrashed in the restraints, muscles locking as the orgasm ripped through you, longer and sharper than the last.

Friday: "Second orgasm confirmed. Neural spike significant. Subject approaching physical limit."

He slowed the toy, letting it ease to a stop deep inside you before withdrawing it carefully, letting you feel every last ridge dragging along your raw, overstimulated walls. Then, with a gentleness that almost contrasted the torment he’d just put you through, he removed the egg from your clit. The instant the contact broke, your whole body sagged in the restraints with relief and exhaustion. You were shaking, barely breathing- every inch of you buzzing, nerves fried and twitching from the overload.

You could taste salt on your lips- your own tears and spit, your jaw aching from clenching around the gag. You were drenched, body glistening with sweat, your skin flushed and hypersensitive to the air.

He removed the gag last. Your jaw fell slack with a wet, trembling gasp, strands of spit clinging to the corners of your mouth. You blinked up at him, vision hazy, lips wet and parted.

Tony gazed down at you, eyes gleaming with wicked satisfaction, his mouth tugging into a crooked grin that said told you so. He looked like a man admiring his finest creation- smug, yes, but also thoroughly entertained by the glorious, twitching mess sprawled out beneath him.

“You did good, baby. Fucking beautiful. But next time?”

He leaned close, brushing a kiss to your temple- slow, deliberate, his breath warm against your damp skin.

“Think I’ll need to design something that gets you to squirt. Can’t let a variable like that go untested. Wouldn’t be very Stark of me to stop now, would it?”

He turned with a little flourish, tapping the screen with a flick of his fingers, not bothering to look back.

“Friday, save this session. Label it: Successful. Prepare files for Phase Two.”

[noonecareslol]

When it hits 9 pm and I pull out this combo:

Ps: I have severe writers block. Help

[luv-lock]

I just know this mf will change his contact in your phone to "Daddy $$$" with no explanation.

[ddejavvu]

Tonys controversially younger gf is so funny to me, he so randomly doesnt pay for things just to mess with her💀

oh fuck anon you hit me right where i needed it.

you're not overly demanding with his money, so when you ask nicely for something and he says, 'no. i'm starting to think you're using me for my money', you're at a total loss.

you've got this little pout on your face as you figure out how to respond, because no, you're not only with him for his money, but damn, it's nice to have at your fingertips. you can take the rejection, you just don't understand why he's saying no, because if anyone in the world is made of money it's tony stark. he loves watching you grapple silently with the 'no' because you don't want to come off as entitled or a gold digger so you don't confront him about it, but you're clearly bothered by the situation because he totally could buy it for you but he's not going to so does that mean you did something wrong?

he watches the wheels turn furiously in your sweet little head and probably has already purchased whatever it was, not that he'll tell you until it arrives. he's just a shithead that likes to mess with you.

[batmans-archnemesis]

i’m tired of the smut bring back thor’s poptart addiction and clint being in the vents all the time

[mostly-marvel-musings]

HAI!!!!!! Sorry I’ve been MIA for a bit! Hyperfocusing on another character took me from Tony for a bit, but I’m back!!! May I please request a fic of Tony Stark and fem!Reader (who have been married for a while) having a romantic and sensual evening to bring the spark back into their marriage? 🥰

Reignite

A/N: Apologies this took so long to finish. Hope you like it, darling!

Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife! Reader

Warning: 18+ fluffy, just a hint of smut.

.

The penthouse is quiet. Stark Tower, usually alive with the whir of machines, late-night lab ramblings, and the occasional chaos of Avengers game night, feels… still. You step out of the elevator barefoot, silk robe loose around your frame, and stop short.

The lights are dimmed low, the floor flickering with warm candlelight—soft pools of gold arranged like constellations across the marble. Somewhere in the background, Sinatra’s voice croons from vintage speakers.

And from the kitchen… is that oregano you smelled?

“Are you…cooking?” You squint.

Tony leans against the counter, sleeves rolled up, apron askew, a dusting of flour clinging to his forearms and the air of a man who’s either caused or prevented disaster. His eyes meet yours, a small, lopsided smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. There’s something unguarded in them. Something real.

“Don’t look so surprised, wifey. I’ve been known to boil water without setting off any alarms.”

You raise an eyebrow, walking slowly toward him. “That’s not the same as cooking, Tony.”

He hands you a wine glass, the stem cool against your fingers. “Tonight’s menu - my mom’s lasagna. The one with béchamel and homemade sheets. The one you always ask for on bad days.”

You stop mid-sip. “Maria’s recipe?”

He nods. “Haven’t made it in years. Figured it was about time I stopped making excuses and started remembering what matters.

Your chest tightens, emotions rising quick and unfiltered. Lately, everything’s been moving too fast—meetings, upgrades, time zones. You’ve been right next to each other and still felt miles apart. But here he is, flour on his hands, making your comfort food from scratch.

“Tony…”

He steps closer. “Tonight isn’t about saving the world. It’s about you. Me. Us. Operation Spark.”

“You named it?” You giggled.

“Of course I named it. I’m me.” He brushes his knuckles along your jaw. “And I miss you. Even when you’re two feet away.”

You nod. “I miss you, too.”

When he kisses you, it’s slow. Not urgent or demanding. Just intentional. You curl your fingers into his shirt and breathe him in, black pepper, and a hint of burnt garlic, because of course he scorched the first batch.

He pulls back, barely, his voice a whisper. “Dance with me?”

There’s no music now, just the hum of the city and your heart starting to beat in rhythm again. He leads you to the cleared-out living room, barefoot on hardwood, one hand at your waist, the other laced with yours.

You sway. Slowly, like there’s nowhere else to be. His eyes stay locked on you the whole time, drinking you in like he’s memorizing something he’d forgotten he needed.

“I was scared,” you murmur against his chest. “That we were slipping.”

“We were,” he admits, soft and rough all at once. “But I’m not letting go. Not again.”

“Then don’t.” You tilt your face to his.

The next kiss is deeper. Hungrier. A promise and a plea. He pushes your robe off your shoulders, letting it slide to the floor like it’s sacred. You shiver, not from cold, but from the way his eyes darken, it’s pure reverence.

He guides you to the couch, his hands mapping familiar territory like it’s the first time again. Every kiss, every touch, is deliberate. He doesn’t rush. He worships. From the curve of your neck to the soft insides of your thighs, he relearns you, what makes you sigh, what makes you tremble, what makes your fingers clutch his hair and whisper his name like it’s the only one that’s ever mattered.

“You still sound like heaven when you fall apart, Mrs. Stark.” he murmurs, voice thick with want.

You pull him back up, mouths meeting in a collision of love and longing, and you lose yourself in the way he moves above you—sure, grounded, and all yours.

When it’s over, when you’re tangled together, flushed and breathless, limbs still shaking, he kisses your temple. The candles burn low around you, Sinatra long faded out, replaced by silence and soft breaths.

“I love you,” he says. Not for effect. Not to fill space. Just truth, laid bare.

You smile into his skin. “And I love you. Even when you burn the garlic and almost set the tower’s fire suppression system off.”

“Hey, that was part of the ambience.”

You laugh again, and it feels good. Like finding your way home after getting a little lost.

Outside, the city hums along. But inside, in the warmth of Tony’s arms, the spark isn’t just back. It’s burning bright.

[rana030]

Pov: you're reading fanfiction and suddenly y/n starts to call him daddy

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Crimson Ties ~ 12

CRIMSON TIES MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,850ish

Summary: The aftermath of the dinner. Tony is trying to make things better but you are struggling to trust anything around you.

Warning(s): sexual talk and touching, non-consensual touching, bruises, abuse

Notes: Honestly, it's just going to get worse before it gets better. Please send in ideas, reactions, etc!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

You stumbled out of bed when you woke up, mind fuzzy and eyes unfocused. You headed straight for the bathroom, did your needed business, but then froze when you took a look at yourself in the mirror. You had thought there was only going to be one hickey, but apparently you were too out of it when Brock was attacking your neck. There were a line of them across your neck, reminding you of a collar. Your eyes raked down your body to see the bruises at your wrists.

Not wasting another second you grabbed a hoodie and pulled it over your head. With a shaky breath, you left your bedroom, tugging the hood over your head to keep to yourself. 

Yelena and Clint were standing in the hallway, quietly conversing. They immediately looked at you as you slipped out into the living area, ignoring them. Staying out of your way, they watched as you grabbed a bunch of snacks and headed into your studio, shutting the door firmly behind you.

“She’s not okay,” Clint said, shaking his head.

“I’ll keep an eye out on her today,” Yelena confirmed. 

“Let me know if you need backup.”

~~~

“Tony? How are you still out here?” Steve wondered, entering the garage. “You’ve been out here all night.”

“Really?” Tony mumbled, slowly turning the carefully glued together vase around. “Didn’t notice.”

“Tony—“

“Do you think she can paint over all these cracks? Like, will the paint cover them?”

“I don’t know.”

“Google it for me, will ya?”

“Why don’t you go ask Y/N?”

“This is supposed to be a surprise. Or a secret. I was thinking maybe just leaving it at her door.”

“Tony. You need to talk to her.”

“I just make it worse every time.”

“You can’t give up on trying.”

Tony sighed, slipping off his glasses and running a hand down his face. “I can’t stop thinking about Obadiah and Brock and what they did to her before we got married… My mother kept warning me, but I don’t think I really understood it until now. She’s been abused and we don’t even know the half of it… I know I need to do better, be better. As a husband and a friend.”

“Then reach out to her. Don’t close yourself off. It will only hurt both of you.”

“I barely even know her… how could I even make any of this better?”

“By trying to get to know her. By showing her that you’re different than the other men in her life.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Fine then. Let’s role-play it.” Steve pulled up a stool and plopped down on it, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m Y/N and you’re you. We need to work on your communication skills anyway.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Tony, you’re absolutely horrendous at communicating. So, let’s get started.”

~~~

Your hands were trembling. Every project that you tried to get a groove in, you would roll up your sleeves, only to see the bruises and quickly roll them back down. Eventually, angry tears clouded your vision and you ended up throwing a ball of clay across the room with a shout. You were on the floor, sobbing before you could do anything else. A knock on the door had you flinching.

“Y/N?” 

Your breath caught at the sound of Tony’s voice. He knew visited you, or at least never warned you with a knock. 

“I… Uh, well… I’m just checking to see if you’re okay,” he continued, cringing at his own words. Of course you weren’t okay. You hadn’t spoken to anyone all day and had been holed up in your studio. “That was—what I meant to say is… gosh, I’m messing this all up. Can I just—“ He sighed. “Can I come in?”

Your lips parted but your automatic ‘yes’ didn’t come out. Your father had never allowed you to have your own space. But when you were brought here, you were told that this was your space. You could make the decisions on who could be let in or not. But would your decision be respected?

Tony was bouncing nervously on the other side of the door. His anxiety was rising with each second. He shared a look with Yelena, who was standing nearby watching him carefully. He sighed, hating this.

“You can say no,” he finally said through the door. “It’s okay. I’m not going to be mad or anything. I promise.”

More tears fell down your face at Tony’s words. He was giving you a choice and something inside of you actually trusted in that. You began wiping at your face to remove the tears, smearing some clay on your cheeks.

“You can come in,” you rasped.

Tony barely heard your words but his hand was on the door knob quickly. Yelena stepped up and stopped him.

“Do not make this worse, Stark,” she warned.

He nodded, looking her in the eye, but remained silent. Slowly, he turned the nob and slipped into the room. You were standing in the center of it, arms hanging at your sides and your head down. But Tony could still see the tears and the clay on your cheeks.

“I wanted to apologize,” Tony began, staying close to the door. “Last night… I shouldn’t have gotten you out of the venue that way. I was seeing red because Brock was taunting me about you and I couldn’t think about anything but getting you out of there.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, still not looking at him.

“No,” he shook his head, stepping forward, “no, it’s not. I… I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I keep trying to do better, but I keep messing up. I’m trying to be a good husband and I don’t know how… I don’t know you and you don’t know me.”

“It’s fine.”

“Please, please stop doing that.” He took another step towards you. “It’s not fine. It’s not okay. You deserve better. But than this life… better than me. I’m not good at things like this. I’m not… Well, my mother is better at understanding people and I am just a carbon copy of my father. But I don’t want to be that. I don’t. I want to be more like my mother. I want to try to get better at this,” he motioned between the two of you. “We don’t need to be anything more than friends. I don’t need more from this. But I want to do better and I want to try.”

You were at a loss for words. How do you respond to that? How do you trust a man who may only turn out to be like all the other men in your life? But, as you finally looked up at Tony, you could see how earnest he was being. It was in his entire being.

Tony’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life. He was fighting the urge to run off and hide away forever. But he needed to try to make this work. To apologize and try to form a friendship out of this mess. 

After a few moments of tense silence, Tony took a step back. “I’m going to get to work,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Dinner,” you whispered, causing him to pause his movements. “I… Um, I’m going to cook dinner tonight. Do you want me to save you some?”

Your words caused Tony instant relief. He knew that things were far from completely cleared up, but it gave him some hope for something. “I’ll join you.”

“You don’t have to. I can—“

“I want to. Say, 6?” You nodded. “Great. I’ll be there.” 

You watched as Tony left your studio and Yelena stepped in. She shut the door and leaned up against it, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You good?” She wondered. She had overheard your conversation with Tony, but wanted to make sure that you were okay.

“Yes,” you said with a nod.

“Need anything?”

“No.”

“Want me to wait outside today or stay in here with you?”

“Can you stay?”

“Of course.”

~~~

Yelena stayed near the door for a few hours before she felt that you were more comfortable and began asking questions about what you were doing. You eventually invited her to sit down and make something of her own with some clay. That got you to chatting some more and creating coasters for the coffee table out in the living room. 

“What if I signed up for a class?” Yelena wondered as she held clean up.

“I don’t teach,” you quickly responded.

“But you could. You were great at it today. And I’m sure some of the others would sign up.”

“What would you even want to learn?”

“Anything about what you do. You can start will a simple project that wouldn’t cause you too much stress. And I’ll handle the times and everything.”

You took a moment to think about it. “Okay, yeah. I’ll do it.”

“Yes! I’ll tell everyone and get a time set up.”

~~~

When Tony entered the kitchen, you were already hard at work on dinner. He stood at one end, nervously watching you. 

“Do you need any help?” He finally asked.

“No,” you replied quietly. “You can sit.”

Tony walked around to sit at the island, across from your work space. He watched you work in silence, eyes focusing on your every moment until his eyes fell to the bruises on your wrist. Unable to help himself, Tony reached across the island. His fingers brushed against your wrist before you were suddenly flinching back. Tony pulled back in an instant as Steve, who had been watching from the sidelines, put an arm out to prevent Yelena from stepping in.

“I—I didn’t mean to—“

“Hey, hey, no,” Tony quickly said, shaking his head. “That was me. Not you.”

“I shouldn’t have flinched. I should have just taken it. I was taught better. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

The words that had flown out of your mouth and those in the room heart’s breaking. Tony’s mouth hung open, moving slightly up and down, not knowing how to respond to something like that. Yelena was ready to shoot those who made you feel this way and Steve wouldn’t be that far behind.

“You…” Tony finally breathed out, finally willing to admit what he had been avoiding. 

You had been abused, by your father and his employees. And he hated himself for ignoring it. His mother and others had tried to warn him and he had seen the signs. It shouldn’t have taken this long for Tony to fully admit it to himself and he was ashamed of that.

“You don’t have to just take it,” he said, heartbroken for you. “You never have to just take it.” You looked down, ashamed of the scene taking place. “Y/N. Please, look at me.”

“I want to go to bed,” you hurried around the island.

Tony stepped closer to you, but was careful not to get too close. “You made this meal though. You should really eat something. We don’t have to sit next to each other or even talk.”

You looked over at Yelena, who was ready to follow your lead, and then Steve, who seemed so hopeful about something you couldn’t quite place. You took a deep breath and nodded.

“Okay, I’ll dish us up the food,” Tony offered. “You just sit down.”

You took your place at one end of the dinning table while Tony rushed to get two plates dished out. He placed your plate in front of you, careful not to crowd your space, before heading to the opposite end of the table. The two of you ate in silence, occasionally glancing at the other person without them noticing. 

“Don’t worry about cleaning up,” Tony finally broke the silence when both of you were done eating.

You didn’t bother arguing about it. Instead, you simply nodded and got up, heading to your room. Tony sighed as he heard your bedroom door close.

“That didn’t go completely awry,” Steve commented, coming into the kitchen fully. “Definitely could have gone a lot worse.”

“Still wasn’t that great,” added Yelena.

Tony sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Clean this up will you?” He headed to his bed room and pulled out his phone. He needed to get his mind off of everything. He pressed Pepper’s contact and placed the phone up to his ear.

“Didn’t think you would call so soon,” Pepper’s voice slinked from the other side. 

“Yeah, well, I need a distraction.”

“I’ll be over soon.” Pepper hung up and smirked to herself as she quickly texted Brock that she’d update him on a way to get to you soon.

~~~

You didn’t see Tony or Steve the next morning. You didn’t ask where they had gone, not really caring to know. You kept to your studio for most of the morning. Yelena kept to the hallway but you had the door open, allowing her to watch you from where she was without crowding you. Besides, Yelena was also busy getting a sign up around to the others for you to teach classes. She stepped off to the side to talk to Natasha about the classes and to check in, allowing for her to miss Obadiah waltz though the front door.

Obadiah scanned the house with a tight jaw and clenched fists. This house was bigger—grander than his own, only making his hatred towards the Starks grow. He stepped further into the house, taking in everything he could. Off to the side, he heard music wafting from an open room. Obadiah headed that way, almost immediately noticing it was a studio. Your studio.

Without missing a beat, Obadiah walked into your studio and shut the door. The sound of the door shutting had you snapping your head up from the plate you were painting. Your heart seized and your breath caught at the sight of your father standing there with a smug smirk on his face.

“Well, I now know why you’ve left your father in the dust,” he stated, coming further into the room. “This place is so much nicer than our home. Even down to this ridiculous studio. I don’t know why Tony has allowed you to hide yourself in here. All dressed out and messy. You should be a show piece at his side, pleasing him and shown off to impress.” He sighed. “Well, you were never all that impressive.”

You stood there, not knowing how to respond. You began to tremble slightly as your eyes darted towards the door behind your father, asking yourself where Yelena was. Did your father to something to her? Was this some giant set up?

“Brock is upset that security has tightened up around here,” Obadiah commented, moving off to the side to examine your completed projects. “Though, I don’t believe it’s as tight as he claims it to be because I just waltzed right in here. No one stopped me.” He reached out and brushed his fingers over one of the bowls. “Makes it easier for me to tell you that you need to make sure Brock has a way in. You are still my daughter and I still care about your protection. Sending Brock is my way of making sure you’re okay.” He turned from the pieces of pottery and heading over to you. “Besides, don’t you miss him? I know you both have a… special connection.” You tensed as your father slid a finger down the side of your face. “Find a way to get Brock in.”

“I— I c-c-can’t,” you stuttered, unable to look your father in the eye.

Suddenly, a large, rough had hit your cheek. The impact had you falling back onto the floor, hitting your side against the table as you did. Obadiah loomed over you, staring daggers down at you.

“You can and you will. Or you will not like the consequences that follow,” he threatened.

Yelena burst through the door, gun drawn. “What the hell is going on in here?! And how did you get in here?”

Obadiah straightened up. “I simply came to check on my daughter and to see if she had that ashtray ready for me. Turns out, she disappointed me again.”

Yelena’s finger pulsed on the trigger but she held back. “You need to leave.”

“Very well. I’ll see you soon, my daughter.” Obadiah turned around, heading out the door without a second glance. 

Yelena followed behind him, ensuring that he exited the house and rove away before rushing back to your side. You weren’t crying, you were barely breathing. Yelena ground her teeth at the sight of your impacted cheek.

“Y/N, what do you need?” She asked. 

You didn’t respond. She pulled out her phone, staying right where she was as she called Steve. “Steve, we have a problem. Tony needs to get home right now. Call Rhodey too. Everyone needs to be involved with this.”

next chapter >

[pomegranatelifethis]

Please, send me your wishes or spark some ideas my way! Time is slipping through my fingers like whispers of a fading dream... Boredom has curled up beside me like an old friend, and my inbox is as barren as a winter’s branch. It’s so quiet, even the shadows hold their breath. A single word, a fleeting sentence, or even a soft “What’s up?” could stir this stillness. Come on, let’s ignite a spark—share a thought, toss out an idea, and let’s dive into a little chat that dances with possibilities!

[hattersrabbit]

GOODNESS INCARNATE

yandere avengers x kryptonian! reader | sfw

CW! male reader, can be seen as either platonic or romantic, toxic behavior, overprotective avengers, obsessive behavior, golden retriever! reader, ambiguous ending

Summary! at some point something fell from earth and crashed into earth. A new hero rises up in the city of Metropolis and catches the eye of Earth’s Mightiest Defenders, and it ends up getting a bit too far.

don’t ask about the timeline or anything call it an au where endgame doesn’t happen :D

Somewhere in Kansas a space shuttle fell to earth. It was never found, but the couple said to be incapable of having children had a child, and a dog too.

A child that was above from normal. That being you. An alien from the planet Krypton that had died. You and your dog, Krypto being the only one of your kind.

The last surviving Kryptonians.

Your new parents were a joy to have. You loved them and they raised you very protectively, and in return you cared for them.

With your strength, and Krypto you helped save your city Metropolis for the first time. The massive billionaire Lex Luthor caused massive damage and almost killed a bunch of people if not for you.

Dressed in blue and red you were a symbol of hope. The S across your chest being a family crest. One of the last of your parents own existence.

The people loved you, and you find the world was interested in you. A hero that came out of nowhere.

And certainly you were loved. Nick Fury couldn’t deny the need to get you on the team of train wrecks.

In fact, it could all be seen all the way to a Spider Boy who could only look at the footage in awe. The hero was someone who Peter Parker aimed to be.

Beside him was Wanda, the Scarlet Witch who looked on with awe in her eyes as well. As a woman who’s gone after bad thing after bad thing she couldn’t help but want goodness.

You were goodness. She could feel it, even if it was through a video.

Tony was apprehensive but even so he never seen someone so good. It was like you never faced horror ever. Your kindness and not a hint of showing off, or playing around while fighting.

Determination.

Captain America; Steve Rogers saw himself in you. Goodness that he could never achieve. One that smiled despite it all, while somberness swallowed him into a boastful mouth.

Bucky would have to agree. He was smiling once back then, and you were literal sunshine. A smile on those lips with such natural strength, and treating civilians with such kindness.

Thor found you adorable, and could feel that you were worthy of his hammer. Even through videos of you he felt like you were worthy. Absolutely beautiful he also thought. What man could fly through the air so gracefully like that. Without a care, and just as quick.

Natasha and Clint admired you. Albeit maybe it was a sense of something they never got. A man who hadn’t ever killed in his life, and was smiling. A sense of light they never got, and there you were.

Sunshine for them to bask themselves in.

Bruce felt wary but you were strong. No anger seemed to be in your body. Surely yes you seemed angry at Lex Luthor but that was for obvious reasons. You weren’t always angry like him. Angry only when necessary, unlike him.

Control of yourself is what you had.

A semblance of this world is that it was corrupt. A source of true good like you, and while you weren’t of them you believed in good.

Good in human beings.

The avengers knew better.

So when you’re recruited they aimed to make sure you’d ease into that reality. When offered the chance you jumped at it.

Imagine the surprise when Krypto arrived by your side. The avengers were no less taken aback and flustered.

You smiled big and wide. Nothing to hide and kind to them all.

Unbeknownst to you the immediate thought of you changed. A being that was good and needed to be protected. This group had been through terrible things, and it brought them down.

Made them turn darker.

Wanda knew that better than anyone.

Bucky hated himself for it.

Peter remembered the days when people knew of him, and how in those last moments back then he almost committed true murder.

They hid it well.

Steve would greet you with open arms and a welcoming smile, “Welcome to the team!” He would pat you on the shoulder. He would blink when it felt like metal.

You would laugh brightly, and saying a lot of people said that. Although it wasn’t like you were gonna say you were an alien. Not yet anyway.

They would find out anyway. Thanking Wanda for that, for she read your mind.

Imagine the wonder Peter had when he talked to you. Over the years now that he was Spider-Man he had lost his once happy attitude in being a hero.

You a little older than him was still hopeful, and hadn’t started as a teenager. You were hopeful and Peter couldn’t help but admire you. That smile; the one he lost and you still had it.

You can’t blame him when he stole one of your notebooks. The pages had tons of notes of your perceived faults and self-hatred. Don’t blame him when he shows Steve and Tony.

Don’t mind the confusion when the entire team is praising you more than usual. Any time you lift something instead of the Hulk Bruce smiles. His anger dismissed and he’s praising you despite his shy nature.

Don’t be surprised when you get hurt and spit blood that you get tested by the scientist. Tony even going as far as tweaking your suit to make sure you’re more protected. It was sweet, but useless venture to say you didn’t need it.

Of course you needed it. You were young, and even had fewer experience than Peter. You had no idea what you were talking about. Bruce and Tony were older.

They knew better, and told you that.

Naively, you shrugged it off. Krypto would only tilt his head at the them, and albeit he became much more close to you.

Wanda didn’t seem to like the change.

Once or twice Krypto would stare at her. ‘Try it.’ The dog was protective and a nuisance. He could feel the darkness. The woman was more susceptible to the darkness. The obsession of getting you to herself.

The others so far, Bruce and Tony already got hands on you when you got injured. Although never really seemed to look into your mind. What if you got brain damage?

She could fix it. Her magic would change it from affecting you. Peter had too much time with you. She was more your age, so you should be with her.

In a way you reminded her of Vision. Kind and understanding. Normalcy that she begged for and clung to.

Maybe she could change the dog but you would notice. It would make you sad, and she didn’t want that. Surely she was wanting you to herself, but your happiness also mattered.

She would be careful.

Get Krypto’s trust was her plan.

The two who have killed before were floored with the kindness. With the protectiveness you gave them.

In act of almost being killed you rang over them with your huge size and protecting them in the blast. Your scream of pain was loud in their ears.

Thor heard it loud and clear. The enemy was on the floor in seconds. Too brutal for normal, and you questioned Thor.

The god gave an excuse that you completely fell for. Too sweet and naive for this world. A sheltered kid in the Midwest fields, with protective parents.

Still too unforgiving of this horrible world.

Thor couldn’t tell you that he almost aimed to kill the attacker.

Natasha would share a look with him.

They knew. Murder was out of the question, but when you screamed like that they knew that maybe maiming was the move. Clint would talk to you as the two discussed what to do with the assailant.

Hearing the news Bucky would want to check over your wounds. There were none but it didn't stop him from getting those mental fingers on your bare skin.

You would shiver. Cold against your warm skin. Shining like the sun Bucky would think. Steve would look too.

A body like his own and invincible to harm.

At least they thought.

Kryptonite was horrible. Lex Luthor's laugh haunted them. You on the floor and holding your chest. Blood flowing from your mouth and a bullet in your chest.

Bruce was terrified.

Peter and Wanda beside themselves.

And so when you awake from your slumber don't ask about the disappearance of Lex Luthor. Don't ask why you can't hear his distinct heat beat.

Don't ask your still on bed rest, and Krypto is so much more hostile towards everyone now. Wary of Wanda and her glares to your dog.

Don't ask why Bruce's lingering touch stayed.

Don't ask why your mind seemed played with.

Don't bother with the protective members who've been known to kill before to be so close to you.

Don’t tell Peter to leave your side. Don't ask Steve to stop defending your city, Metropolis.

All the avengers ask of you is to keep that smile on your face no matter how confused you are.

To keep there goodness, and to never be corrupted.

To be good.

[mywritesaremylove]

Jealousy - Tony Stark

Is Tony jealous? How would he react to others if they flirt with you?

Absolutely jealous. He’s not clingy or insecure, just territorial. 

If someone flirts with you, he plays it cool at first but not subtle at all. 

“Hi. Tony Stark. Just wondering what position you’re applying for. The boyfriend slot has already been filled. 

“Thanks for keeping my girl company but I think I got it from here. 

Translation: Get lost, loser. 

If he by some miracle bites his tongue but continues to listen, he’s getting petty. 

“Hey, can I offer free dating advice? Step one: aim for someone that’s single.” 

“If she’s not responding with more than one word, it means she doesn’t want to talk to you.” 

“Not that I was jealous, just asserting dominance.” “Okay, sure, babe.” 

Casually glares at people that check you out in public. 

You mention a neutral name, he’s questioning it. 

“Wait, Taylor? Is that a guy or a girl?” 

Don’t get me started if you openly say a celebrity is hot. 

“Henry Cavill is sooo hot.” 

“He’s a guy in tights and a cape. Sure he can fly, but can he build you a custom AI assistant that does whatever you want? Didn’t think so.” 

“Babe, he can fly, shoot lasers from his eyes, super senses, has x-ray vision, super speed, and can freeze things from his breath.” 

Two hours later, he’s in his lab trying to see what he has to do to add laser eyes to his Iron Man suit. 

[marveldcfandom]

Y/N seeing Tony eating some donuts inside Randy’s donuts.

Y/N: Really dad.

Tony: I’m hungry plus I need some sugar.

Y/N: You know mom is going to be mad.

Tony: She always gets mad at me.

Y/N: I’m going to inside.

Tony: Get me some donuts please.

[nevereclipse]

coming soon...

I am currently working on fourteen fics. please be patient. here is a sneak peak <33

Currently writing/working on:

tim bradford x reader (tiktok trend drabble) 🥰

tim bradford x reader part 1 (breeding kink) ❤️‍🔥

Upcoming:

tim bradford x reader (past attempt) 😭🍨

lucy chen x reader

tim bradford x reader part 2 (trying for a baby) 🔥

chenford x reader 🔥

tim bradford X reader (sahm!reader) 🥰

[mcntsee]

me when I reach the angst part of the angsty fic that I specifically chose for the angst

[that1geek06]

"English isn't my-"

Hush now my friend, and let me read the absolute beauty of a fic that you have bestowed this world and humiliated the first English speakers with