#tony stark mcu | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bitchyycapricorn · 2 years ago

Text

The Girl in the Mirror

Tony Stark x Insecure!Reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 1.5k

Synopsis: Tony plans a whole night for you, hoping to pop the big question at the end of the night. Trouble arises when an old high school friend has something to say about your appearance.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, body insecurity, body shaming, cursing.

Request by: @lilacprincessofrecovery

AN: not edited

Your eyes lock on the figure standing in front of you in the mirror. Her eyes are beautiful, and her hair falls perfectly, capturing a special kind of beauty. She looks graceful and elegant in her red dress. The dress that synchs in at the waist and cascades out around her feet into a pretty train. The dress that’s top compliments her chest, while the slit in the leg adds a scandalous touch. You find yourself distant from the woman who stares back at you, barley aware that she is you. The only notable aspect that gives it away and seems to repeatedly capture your attention is her stomach. Your stomach. You stare at the way the dress lays over it, hating it in a thousand different ways. The sight alone put a bad taste in your mouth and makes you want to disappear right there and then.

You feel shame and embarrassment beginning to bubble up in your stomach, making you want to throw up on your designer dress. How was it that someone like you could make it somewhere like here. Living in a modern day palace with the most stunning man to walk the earth. Knowing that you look like this: an out of place and disgusting thing. An abomination to all beauty standards. You think this as your eyes train back to your stomach.

A knock on the door puts you out of your haze, drawing you back to a bittersweet reality. You’re about to attend a grand ball in your honor, one being put on by your boyfriend of almost four years. This is suppose to be a happy and unforgettable moment, yet the sight of yourself makes you feel as though you’ll ruin the whole event by just attending.

“Sweetheart we’re going to be late, we have to get go-“ Tony cut himself short at the site of your figure lingering in front of the mirror. Sometimes he has a hard time convincing himself that you were in fact from earth, not another planet where beautiful goddesses roam. Everything about you is just breathtaking. Your silhouette alone is enough to put every man and woman on earth to shame in Tony’s eyes. After all, you were his woman and his woman alone.

You lift your gaze to meet Tony’s in the mirror, embarrassment flowing through your flushed body. “Why are you staring at me like that?” You speak.

Tony purses his lips before giving a wide smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be looking at you like that? You look ravishing my dear.” He hums as he approaches your stiff body.

“I look like an inflated hot air balloon Tony,” you huff, hating the way you look even more than you did just five minutes ago.

“If you’re a hot air balloon, than I want to be a passenger,” He snickers, placing his hands on your waist.

You raise an eyebrow at Tony, thrown off at his response. “What?” You laugh.

Tony huffs, realizing you did not get the joke. “You know, because I want to get inside yo-“

“Tony!” You shriek, forgetting all about your previous dilemma and now focusing on your boyfriend who looks as handsome as ever.

“Y/N!” Tony shrieks back jokingly. You let out a small laugh, relaxing in his presence. “You look beautiful tonight darling,” he says as he pulls you into a warm embrace.

You feel your stomach starting to twist again, already bring back the feelings of dread and anguish towards the way your body looks in a dress that hugs your figure. “Tony…” you whisper softly, “I feel awful.” Your voice quivers as you open up about the thoughts that have been drowning you since you slipped the stunning red dress on. “I feel so out of place, I just wish I could disappear.” You murmur.

Tony frowns at your words, taking in your appearance once more before speaking. “Y/N, you look absolutely stunning tonight, and don’t you dare think or say otherwise. Every time I see you my breath is taken away by your beauty. You are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever had the honor of laying my eyes on.” Tony whispers as he spins you around slowly, drinking up your perfect body.

“But Tony, look at me, I’m-I’m” you stutter.

“Y/N, I know you feel that way and I’m so sorry. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. How perfect and lovely you are.” He hums as he pulls your body into his. “You are the most beautiful woman to ever walk this earth my love,”

“Promise?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Promise.” His lips were on yours just seconds later, savoring your sweet taste. He kisses you for what feels like forever, yet somehow forever isn’t long enough, because when he does pull away you find yourself missing the feeling of his lips on yours. “Come on, we have a ball to attend.”

+++

You find yourself swaying in Tony’s arms to the loud music that’s blaring from the large speakers placed all around the room. Tony had been sweeping you off your feet since you got to the ball, never once leaving your side. He made it a habit to whisper small praises and words of affirmation into your ear as the night progresses, refusing to let you forget just how perfect you are.

You were about two hours into the dance and everything seemed to be going well, that is until Tony goes to get punch and you overhear him talking to an old friend from school.

“She’s got a pretty face man but her body? You definitely could’ve done better in that department. I mean, she must have a great personality or something.” The man snickers as he looks you up and down.

Tony’s face begins to heat up with rage, his blood boiling at the mere mention of you being anything less than perfect. “I’ll have you know her body is the definition of perfection.” He growls, grip tightening on the glass in his hand. “Honestly, you have no right to even be looking at my girlfriends body. Let alone speaking about it.” He hisses through clenched teeth.

“Oh come on man, you know I’m right. She’s just a bit..big. She could stand to lose a few, or hell even a lot of pounds.” Tony’s ‘friend’ chuckles.

“Big? As if you would even know what ‘big’ is. Clearly you’ve never seen anything big on your own body.” Tony shoots back, glancing over at your now embarrassed and ashamed face. “Listen here. My girlfriend’s body, size, literally any of my girlfriend and soon to be wife, is none of your fucking business. So how about you turn around and walk your sorry ass out of here before I do it for you.”

The man’s eyes go wide, not expecting that Tony would actually stand up for you. Not when there were, in his opinion, much hotter girls wandering around in much skimpier dresses. “Come on man, don’t be like that.” he finally says, looking nervously at Tony.

You could feel your face heat up, both from becoming Tony’s wife, but also from the way his ‘friend’ was speaking about you. “I’m not messing around, you leave on your own free will, or, I escort you out.” Tony was trying to keep his calm, but he was slowly losing patience with the incel that stands before him. “Actually, no. You don’t even deserve the chance to peacefully leave. Not after the shit you just said about my girlfriend.” Tony looks up, locking eyes with one of his security staff. With a quick motion of his hand the man was getting dragged out the building. Everyone pauses for a moment, unsure on whether they should continue dancing and chatting.

You were quick to make your way over to Tony, picking up your dress up off the floor so you wouldn’t trip over it. “Tony, what was that?” You whisper quietly, not liking the sudden attention.

Tony on the other hand thought this a perfect moment to make a statement. Putting his foot down once and for all. Getting down on one knee, Tony began to speak. “Y/N, listen, I know that I am a mess. And I know that you also think I’m a mess who can’t keep up with his responsibilities and who doesn’t know when to quit. But you keep me on track darling, you keep me grounded and out of trouble. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you. I want to give you everything, because you are everything. Y/N L/N, you are the most beautiful, most amazing woman I have ever met, will you marry me?”

You let out a small gasp, hand flying to your mouth. “Tony I- yes! Yes Tony yes!” You breathe, looking at the beautiful engagement ring in the beautiful red velvet box. You stick your hand out and watch Tony slip the ring onto your finger.

“I’m so glad you said yes,” Tony chuckles as he takes you into an embrace, kissing you slowly.

“Well Mr. Tony Stark, there isn’t anyone I’d rather marry.” You beam, allowing him to kiss you once more.

+++

TAGLIST

790 notes · View notes

th3mrskory · 5 days ago

Text

Terms & Conditions

Pairing: fem!Reader x Tony Stark

Warning: none.

Word count: 3k

A/N: Divorced couple forced to work together on a merger. Heavily inspired by Suits and Succession because, clearly, I have a type. IDK if this is going to be a series or not, we'll see... also thank you @tezooks for the interest on this fic!

© th3mrskory. don’t copy, translate, or use my works in any form with AI, ChatGPT or any other automated tools. I only share my stories here, so if you see them posted elsewhere, i’d appreciate it if you let me know.

Y/n’s heels echoed sharply against the polished marble floor as she walked toward the conference room. The familiar hum of the office surrounded her, but her mind was already in the meeting, calculating, strategizing. Every step was deliberate, each movement precise.

She turned the corner to find Linda waiting by the conference room door, her posture as immaculate as ever, her gaze steady. Linda had been with the firm for years—long enough to understand the weight of every decision Y/n made, and long enough to be trusted without question.

“Good morning,” Y/n greeted, her tone crisp, but warm enough to convey a sense of connection.

Linda’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles as she met Y/n’s eyes. “Good morning, Ms. Y/n. Everything’s in place for the meeting.”

Y/n’s eyes flicked to the door of the conference room. “And Tony?”

Linda’s smile faded, her expression carefully neutral. “He’s already in there. Waiting.”

Y/n’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second before she nodded. “Let him wait. He thrives on anticipation.” She adjusted her suit, ensuring everything was perfectly in place before meeting Linda’s eyes once more. “Thank you for the heads-up.”

Linda offered a silent nod in response, her respect for Y/n clear in the way she carried herself. “Of course. I’ll keep an eye on things here.”

With that, Y/n gave a small nod of acknowledgment, the brief exchange enough to communicate the trust between them. Without another word, she pushed open the door to the conference room, her presence commanding the space before she even entered.

All eyes turned to her—except one.

Leaning back in one of the leather chairs at the far end of the table, her ex-husband lounged like he owned the place. Technically, he did own a chunk of it. His tie was loose, his tailored jacket draped over the chair next to him, and a mischievous smirk played on his lips as he scrolled through his phone.

“Well, well,well” he drawled without looking up, “the queen has arrived. Let the peasants rejoice.”

The corner of her mouth twitched, but she masked it with a pointed glance at her watch. “And here I thought you’d be too busy golfing to show up. Or was it poker night at the club?”

Finally, he looked up, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “Poker’s tomorrow. Today’s just my weekly charity work.” He gestured around the room. “You know, teaching the juniors how the grown-ups do mergers.”

One of the younger associates coughed to cover a laugh, and Y/n’s gaze swept over the room, silencing them with a single arch of her brow.

“Charity work?” she echoed, walking to her seat at the head of the table. “That’s funny. I thought your specialty was tax avoidance and charming widows.”

“Not just widows,” he quipped, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. “I have a pretty good track record with divorcees, too.”

Her hand tightened on the back of her chair, but her voice stayed cool. “So good, you’re two for two. Impressive.”

The room collectively froze, caught in the crossfire of their razor-sharp exchange. The senior partner on her right cleared his throat nervously, trying to cut the tension. “Shall we get started?”

“Please,” Y/n said smoothly, lowering herself into her seat. “We’re here to finalize the merger details for Sterling & Co. before their board meeting tomorrow. I trust everyone has reviewed the financial reports?”

“Oh, I’ve reviewed them,” her ex chimed in, pulling a neatly folded sheet of paper from his jacket pocket. “There’s just one problem. Page 17—projections for the fourth quarter are laughable. Unless Sterling’s CFO moonlights as a magician, those numbers are pure fiction.”

There were a few nervous chuckles around the table, and Y/n arched an eyebrow. “You mean to tell me you didn’t find their magical 20% growth plan convincing? Shocking.”

“Shocking is how long it took for someone to point it out,” he shot back, leaning forward.

She raised an eyebrow, flipping to the page in question. “I suppose you’re volunteering to rewrite their business plan?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve saved a failing venture,” he said, leaning back with an infuriatingly confident smirk. “Or reminded someone to check their blind spots.” He slid a file across the table.

She picked it up, skimming the contents. Her lips pursed, and for a moment, the room held its breath.

“Not bad,” she admitted, her tone grudging. “For someone who spends more time golfing than working.”

He leaned back, grinning. “You’d be amazed at how productive I can be between holes.”

“Spare us the details,” she retorted, her eyes still on the file. “Let’s focus on salvaging this merger before Sterling’s board meeting tomorrow.”

Tony leaned back, his hands behind his head, his grin infuriatingly smug. “Fine. But if we’re going to save Sterling, we need to talk about their litigation risks. Their portfolio’s a disaster.”

Y/n glanced up, her expression sharp. “I’ve already flagged that. Their employment practices alone are a lawsuit waiting to happen. The severance disputes in their HR files could sink them if they’re not handled correctly.”

“Handled correctly?” Tony echoed, feigning shock. “Darling, they need a complete overhaul. Their HR policies look like they were written on a napkin in the ‘80s. I suggest we include mandatory compliance training as part of the merger terms.”

She raised an eyebrow, flipping to another section of the report. “I’ve already drafted a clause for that. But compliance training alone won’t cut it. We need to clean house, starting with their general counsel.”

Tony whistled low, clearly impressed. “Ouch. Cold as ever. But you’re not wrong. Their general counsel is... how should I put this? Underwhelming. What’s your plan for the inevitable PR fallout when we push them out?”

“Mitigation,” she replied, not missing a beat. “We’ll preemptively frame it as a step toward modernization and efficiency. Their board will eat it up, especially if we back it with an improved diversity and inclusion plan.”

Tony smirked. “Always ten steps ahead, aren’t you?”

“Someone has to be,” she shot back. “While you’re busy charming the press and schmoozing clients, I’m the one keeping the ship from sinking.”

“Hey,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender, “I schmooze strategically. You’d be surprised how much a little charm can smooth over merger tensions.”

“Charm doesn’t fix bad contracts,” she countered. “Or litigation traps. Sterling’s arbitration agreements are a mess, and their partnership structure is barely holding together. If we don’t address those, this merger will be dead on arrival.”

Tony sat up, his tone serious now. “Agreed. Let’s restructure their partnership agreements entirely—transition them to a tiered equity model. It’ll stabilize their revenue streams and make it easier to retain top talent post-merger.”

Y/n nodded, jotting notes as he spoke. “Good. But we’ll need to sweeten the deal for their junior partners. Increased buy-in options tied to performance metrics should do the trick. We’ll incentivize loyalty without draining their resources.”

“Smart,” he said, leaning forward. “But let’s not forget client retention. Sterling’s client portfolio is solid, but they’re vulnerable. If we don’t reassure their top clients during this transition, we risk defections.”

“I’ve already scheduled meetings with their top five clients,” she replied. “We’ll present the merger as a move toward stronger, more efficient representation. If we position it correctly, we can even upsell them on additional services.”

Tony’s grin returned. “God, I missed this. Watching you destroy everyone else’s arguments is like poetry in motion.”

She didn’t look up, her pen still moving across the page. “Focus, Tony. We’re not here to reminisce.”

The senior partner cleared his throat, interrupting the moment. “If I may,” he began hesitantly, “how do you propose handling Sterling’s ongoing class-action suit? Their legal team seems... ill-equipped.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Ill-equipped" is putting it mildly. Their lead counsel couldn’t argue his way out of a parking ticket. I’ll take point on this one.”

Y/n shook her head. “No. You’ll assist, but this is my case. I’ve already started drafting a strategy. First, we push for mediation. If that fails, we’ve got a fallback plan for a quick settlement. The longer this drags on, the more it jeopardizes the merger.”

Tony smirked. “Always the control freak.”

“Always the improviser,” she shot back. “Which is why you’re better as my backup.”

The team exchanged amused glances, their dynamic both entertaining and awe-inspiring.

Tony leaned back, giving her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am. You drive; I’ll navigate.”

As the meeting progressed, the room buzzed with energy. Y/n and Tony dissected every aspect of the merger with precision, their combined expertise a masterclass in legal strategy.

By the time the meeting adjourned, the team looked equal parts exhausted and inspired.

“Alright,” Y/n said, gathering her notes. “Tony, I expect your revisions on the partnership agreements by midnight.”

He smirked. “Midnight? Cutting me some slack, will you?”

“Don’t push your luck,” she replied, her tone sharp but with a hint of a smile.

As the team filed out, Tony lingered, his eyes following her as she packed up her things.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “we make a hell of a team.”

She paused, her expression unreadable. “We always did.”

The team exchanged glances, marveling at the seamless way the two bounced ideas off each other. It was like watching two virtuosos perform a duet—each one pushing the other to greater heights.

Y/n gathered her notes, sliding them into her leather portfolio with meticulous precision, fully aware of Tony’s eyes tracking her every move. His gaze was too heavy, too familiar.

“So,” he said casually, leaning against the edge of the table like he owned not just the furniture but the air she was breathing, “since we’re working so well together, how about lunch? To strategize further, of course. I hear that new French place downtown is incredible.”

She glanced up, arching a brow. “Lunch? Is that your latest excuse for trying to spend more time with me?”

“Excuse?” he repeated, his tone mock-wounded as he straightened. “Ouch, sweetheart. I thought you’d jump at the chance to pick my brain over a plate of foie gras.”

Y/n’s lips twitched—almost—but she didn’t give him the satisfaction. “Your brain is the last thing I’d want to pick, Tony. And stop calling me ‘sweetheart.’”

“Force of habit,” he replied, the smirk in his voice as audible as the one gracing his lips. He stepped closer, invading her space, his cologne a maddening reminder of nights she didn’t want to remember but couldn’t forget. “But come on. Just lunch. Strictly professional. You have my word.”

“Your word?” she repeated, closing her portfolio with a sharp snap. “Excuse me if I don’t find that particularly reassuring.”

He leaned down, hands on the table on either side of her notes, caging her in with that infuriating mix of charm and audacity. “Oh, come on. I’m not that bad.”

Her breath hitched despite herself. Damn him. “You’re worse.”

His smirk widened as his dark eyes bore into hers. “You’re smiling, though.”

“Barely,” she countered, stepping back—or trying to. The table behind her left nowhere to go.

Tony’s grin softened, a rare flicker of something real slipping through. “You used to like my bad habits.”

“That was before I knew better,” she shot back, though her voice lacked its usual sharp edge.

He tilted his head, closing the space between them again, so close now she could feel the heat radiating from him. His gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second, and her pulse betrayed her, quickening.

“For the record,” he murmured, his voice low and impossibly smooth, “you haven’t learned a thing. Otherwise, you’d have kicked me out by now.”

She swallowed hard, willing her composure back. “Don’t tempt me.”

Tony chuckled, his breath brushing her cheek. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

The air between them crackled, the distance practically nonexistent. His hand drifted just slightly, brushing her arm, a touch so brief it could have been accidental—but wasn’t.

And then, as if the moment teetered on the edge of something neither of them was ready to admit, Y/n sidestepped, breaking the spell.

“Lunch,” she said briskly, grabbing her portfolio and stepping around him. “Twenty minutes. Don’t be late.”

He turned as she walked away, his smirk returning, though his voice was softer. “When am I ever late?”

She didn’t answer, disappearing through the door with her usual grace.

The French bistro had a quiet sophistication that suited the occasion. Light chatter filled the room, underscored by soft classical music, but Y/n barely noticed. Her focus was on the folder in front of her, its contents neatly arranged—notes, projections, and proposals that could make or break the merger.

Tony arrived a few minutes late, as usual, but with the air of someone who knew how to make an entrance. He shed his coat and slid into the seat across from her, his casual demeanor contrasting sharply with her poised professionalism.

“So, what’s on the agenda, boss?”

Y/n’s lips twitched at the title, but she let it slide. “Sterling,” she said, cutting straight to the point. “They’re playing hardball on equity redistribution. I’ve outlined our options, but we need to decide on a strategy before the board meeting tomorrow.”

Tony leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Let me guess—they’re trying to hold out for a bigger piece of the pie?”

“Exactly,” she confirmed. “But their position isn’t as strong as they think. They’re banking on us blinking first.”

The waiter appeared, interrupting them briefly to take their orders. Y/n opted for a salade niçoise, Tony for steak frites. As soon as the waiter left, Tony turned back to her, his expression unusually serious.

“So, what’s the play?” he asked, scanning the document she slid across the table.

“We present minor concessions as a gesture of goodwill,” she explained. “Enough to make them feel like they’ve won something, but not enough to disrupt the structure. If they push for more, we call their bluff. Their position won’t hold up under scrutiny, and they know it.”

Tony nodded, his eyes darting over the document. “Solid plan. But what if they double down instead? They might drag this out just to see how far we’ll bend.”

“I’ve factored that in,” Y/n said, pulling another sheet from her portfolio. “This is our fallback position. It’s not ideal, but it’ll keep the deal moving forward without giving up too much leverage.”

He studied the paper, his brow furrowing slightly. “You’ve been busy.”

“Someone has to be,” she replied dryly.

Tony glanced up, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression. “You know, most people would have called it a day after the last round of negotiations. But not you.”

“Most people aren’t trying to save a multi-million-dollar merger,” she shot back.

His lips curved into a faint smile, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he leaned back, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before shifting to the folder still open on the table.

“So,” he began, his tone casual, “what’s your take on Sterling’s new CFO? Walters, right? He’s been suspiciously quiet in these meetings.”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Quiet, but not absent. He’s been feeding his team notes—counterpoints, objections. He’s not as passive as he seems.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully, drumming his fingers lightly on the table. “That’s what I figured. I had a chat with one of his former colleagues. Apparently, Walters likes to fly under the radar until he’s ready to pounce.”

She arched a brow. “And you just happened to run into one of his colleagues?”

“What can I say?” he replied, a hint of mischief in his tone. “I like to be thorough.”

“Thorough,” she repeated, her voice laced with skepticism.

“Thorough,” he confirmed, his grin widening. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“On this?” she said after a pause. “Yes. But don’t push it.”

Their conversation paused as the waiter returned with their food. Tony’s steak frites looked indulgent compared to her lighter salad, but he didn’t comment, instead diving into the meal with surprising restraint.

As they ate, the discussion shifted to logistics: timelines, integration plans, and the delicate task of managing client lists. Tony contributed more than she’d expected, his insights sharp and his instincts—when not veering into overly charming territory—on point.

“I’ll follow up with Walters,” he said as they reached the end of their plates. “See if I can’t get a better read on him.”

Y/n hesitated, her fork hovering over her plate. “Be careful. He’s not the type to underestimate. If he realizes you’re fishing for information—”

“He won’t,” Tony interrupted smoothly. “I’ll keep it subtle. Promise.”

She gave him a long look, weighing her trust against her better judgment. Finally, she nodded. “Fine. But let me know what you find.”

“Always,” he said, his tone lighter now, almost teasing. “What would you do without me?”

“Sleep better, for one,” she replied, closing her portfolio with a sharp snap.

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair enough.”

As they stood to leave, Tony lingered for a moment, holding the door open for her. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by something quieter, almost thoughtful.

“You know,” he said as they stepped into the street, “for all your talk about strategy, I think you just like keeping me on my toes.”

“Someone has to,” she quipped, her tone brisk but not unkind.

He grinned, falling into step beside her. “Well, keep it up. You’re pretty good at it.”

They walked down the street together, their usual banter fading into companionable silence.

39 notes · View notes