#tony stark x reader

[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.

[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.

[noonecareslol]

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

Ps: I have severe writers block. Help

[ramp-it-up]

This is…

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.”

[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.

[batmans-archnemesis]

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

[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. 

[luv-lock]

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

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Sparks Fly

Pairing: Eventual Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, Tony Stark x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

Warnings: breakup angst, high tension

Summary: You and Tony reach an impasse in your relationship when you go looking for that passion that might be hidden deep down. His relationship makes you see that what you’re missing might not be with Tony but a certain someone else instead.

One in a Million Series

Square Filled: fighting together (2024) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Confusion follows you as you walk into your apartment, confusion hangs over you as you wash off the gym stink, and confusion pats your back when you get dressed. Things with Tony haven’t been as passionate as you’d like, so there is a lot of tension building between you two. You don’t think he notices it, and if he does, he makes no move to talk about it. It’s been a good few months with Tony, but you don’t see it going anywhere.

Tony is supposed to help you get over Bucky, and you’re failing at everything. It’s like no matter what you do, you can’t seem to get him to be more interested in you. There’s no passion and you really wish there was more of it. Sure, Tony makes you feel good, but you want sparks to fly.

The boys and Natasha are in the kitchen when you finally walk in, and Bucky immediately notices the confusion etched onto your features. Knowing you’re with Tony has given him a lot to think about. Stuff about where he sees himself a year down the line or even five. He keeps picturing you by his side despite knowing you’re taken.

He really needs to get over this silly crush he has before he gets heartbroken. What if Tony is your one? What if you see being with him for the rest of your life? Bucky doesn’t know if he can spend the rest of his wishing he had made a move.

“You alright?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah, something weird happened to me while I was at the gym earlier.”

“Why don’t we order take out and watch a movie in my apartment. It’s much better than going out,” Natasha says to Steve before turning to you. “What happened?”

“I saw Pepper there. After walking about five miles, I walked into the sauna where she was. They have a section if people want to get naked, and she was in there.”

“Were you naked?” Sam asks.

Bucky smacks him on the side of the head for asking, and Sam laughs in amusement. Bucky doesn’t need to picture you naked in a sauna with other women. He doesn’t need to picture you naked, period. It’ll make getting over you harder.

“No. I couldn’t help but see how good she looked. I mean why would Tony give her up? She’s gorgeous.” Bucky opens his mouth to respond but decides against it. Again, he can’t get involved like that. Sam sees the torture on his face and smirks. “It got me thinking about them and how good they must have been, I must have panicked because I invited her to dinner with me and Tony tonight.”

“You did what?” Natasha asks.

“I know, I know,” you groan. “I just feel like she’s always there behind me. I was over at Tony’s house the other day, and we were… making out a bit. I saw a picture of Pepper on his bookshelf behind him and thought, she is always going to be right there no matter what.”

Bucky closes his eyes and grips his coffee mug tighter. Sam nudges Steve and barely gestures to Bucky so he doesn’t alert you that they’re having this silent conversation. Steve sees the pain expression and smirks, finally getting on the same page as Sam.

“So, you were making out, huh? Is he a good kisser?”

Bucky growls lowly knowing what his friends are doing.

“Did he use a lot of tongue?” Sam chuckles.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Bucky mutters while taking a sip of coffee.

“I’m not gonna answer that,” you chuckle nervously. “The point is, she’s this overwhelming presence. I feel like we can work through it if we sat down and had a conversation about it.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Natasha says. “If you like Tony that much, then you need to make it clear to Pepper that you’re not going anywhere and she needs to back off.” She pauses. “You do like him, right?”

You barely look at Bucky who refuses to look at you. He can’t even look at you. Natasha is usually right about these things, but she’s not right about this. Bucky doesn’t like you.

“Yeah, of course, I do. It’s gonna be fine. I’m gonna go get ready.”

The date isn’t for another five hours, but you figure you can stall time by doing your makeup and hair carefully. Tony picked you up thirty minutes early so Pepper isn’t there when you get there. He wasn’t too thrilled to know his ex-wife was going to be joining you two, but this has to happen if you want to move on.

“I appreciate what you’re doing for me here,” you say

“Hey, it’s no problem as long as they keep the alcohol coming.”

“Come on, is Pepper really that bad?”

“There’s a reason why she’s my ex-wife.”

He says that in a way that makes you not want to ask questions. This is why you need this dinner to happen. They need to work out some unresolved issues so that you and Tony can move on together.

“Hey, sorry I’m late!” Pepper walks to the table looking gorgeous as ever. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and she’s wearing a beautiful white dress that stops at her knees. She looks so elegant. “Traffic was a bitch.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. We were early,” you chuckle.

Pepper and Tony make eye contact and it’s like the tension rises a good few inches.

“Hello.”

“Hi,” she says curtly. She grabs a menu and looks over the appetizers at this authentic Mexican restaurant. “Oh, how are the quesadillas?” She says the word ‘quesadillas’ with a lisp so that every ‘s’ is pronounced as ‘th’. Tony immediately rolls his eyes, which she notices. “There goes the eye roll.”

“I didn’t actually roll my eyes.”

“I don’t miss that.”

“No, I actually needed to quickly look at the ceiling.”

You’re scared if you don’t say something now, then they’ll start chewing each other’s heads off.

“Pepper?” She tears her glare from Tony to look at you, and her eyes soften. “I love that dress. It looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” she smiles. “Or should I say, gracias.”

Again, she pronounces the ‘s’ as a ‘th’.

“That’s an interesting way to pronounce that word.”

“Wait till you hear why she does,” Tony mutters.

“I spent a month in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico with the locals. They taught me authentic Spanish.”

“Oh, okay. That’s cool,” you nod, a bit uneasy. You grab some of the tortilla chips they set out and munch on one. “Man, these are delicious.”

The waitress comes over and takes your orders before walking off with the menus. The song ‘Cielito Lindo’ starts playing over the speakers softly, and Pepper has a much different reaction than Tony.

“I love this song,” she grins.

“I hate this song,” Tony grumbles. You and Tony look at each other, and he sighs knowing he’ll have to explain why he hates it. “We were on vacation in Mexico on this eight-hour road trip. Pepper wouldn’t stop humming this goddamn song the entire time.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have been eight hours if someone hadn’t gotten lost. At some point, we were following donkeys.”

The waitress comes back with the food, and you try to be excited about it in hopes it’ll stop this conversation.

“Look, food! I love food!”

“They were not donkeys!” Tony raises his voice slightly.

Pepper starts cutting into her food. “It wasn’t a road.”

That riles Tony up in a way you hadn’t seen before. He stands and leans over the table to assert his dominance over Pepper.

“For the millionth time, just because a map doesn’t show it’s a road, doesn’t mean it’s not a road!”

“Inside voices, please,” you say, but they ignore you.

“You know what’s not a road?” She stands and gets in his face. “When there are guys in tanks telling you to turn around!”

“Oh, come on!” Tony raises his voice some more. There are people looking, and you shrink in your seat in embarrassment. “Those were two kids in a jeep!”

“Our car gets stuck in the mud, but you can’t move it because God forbid, you break a nail.”

“Here we go,” Tony mutters. “I got one manicure! One time! I’m not doing this with you!”

“I’m not doing this with you!” she yells back. At this point, they’re screaming at each other. “I don’t have to take this. I’m leaving.”

“Oh, don’t you want to wait for your quesadilla?”

Tony mocks the way she says it, and she growls in anger. They both stare at each other while you’re watching with wide eyes. You can cut the sexual tension with a knife. Suddenly, you don’t want to be here. Pepper leaves with the excuse that Morgan needs her, but the date is ruined for you and Tony. He tries to fix it with small talk but the heat is still in the air.

Natasha and Steve came to a compromise and got takeout at your apartment. She slept over, which is a good thing because you really need your best friend right now.

“You should have been there, Nat. There was serious heat between them. It was so awkward for me. After she left, it was like Tony and I couldn’t look at each other. They had… have passion. I want that with someone, and I don’t think that it’s with him. I guess I got kind of jealous. He doesn’t… God, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he doesn’t kiss me often. It’s like he wants a relationship without being physical.”

“Have you had sex with him?”

“Yeah. Only two or three times.”

“You’ve been dating him for over four months.” You shrug. “Girl, you need to get out of that relationship.”

“I can’t.” You drop your voice to a whisper. “I have to make it work for him. You don’t understand. Maybe I should take a page out of Pepper’s book. Maybe then he’ll have some of that passion with me.”

“Does she still have feelings for him?”

“Maybe. I have to talk to her to find out.”

“No, that’s a bad idea. Just give it some time and let it mull over.”

“If she does and I do nothing about it, all I’m doing is setting myself up for heartbreak. I gotta go.”

“Call me if you need me. I’ll kick her ass if I need to.”

You laugh. “I know. I’ll call you later.” You walk to the door and look at her with a smirk. “Oh, and tell Steve to go easy on your neck. It looks like he was chomping on you.”

“Shit. Steve! I told you not to leave any marks,” she yells and goes after him.

You don’t know much about Pepper but you do know the gym she works out at. You go there in hopes you might find her lingering. After last night, she might be here working out the tension. Luck is on your side because you find her using one of the weight machines that you pull down.

“Hey, fancy meeting you here,” you chuckle. She smiles when she sees you and gestures for you to sit at the machine next to hers. There’s no easy way to say this so you’re just going to come out and say it. “So, you and Tony, huh?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” she sighs and continues to pump her arms, “if we made you feel uncomfortable. It’s just that we can’t be in the same room as each other without ripping each other’s faces off.”

“For sure,” you nod slowly. “As long as it’s only faces and not like… clothes.”

Pepper gasps and looks at you, pausing her workout. “You don’t think…”

“No, no,” you say quickly.

“Good because there is no chance in hell. He is all yours.” You’re about to get up when she continues talking. “I mean, you know what it’s like with Tony, right?”

You pause, uncertain how to answer that. Yes, you’ve had sex with him, but what if your experience with him is different than hers? What if it was raw and passionate with her but tame and mild with you?

“It’s like a rollercoaster,” she continues. “It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean during a storm, and the spray of water hits your face like a mist.” She sighs passionately. “You’re naked and you’re on fire. You know?”

Okay, that’s not how it’s like at all. Still, you’re not going to tell her that. “Yeah. I do. I’m like, ‘Tony, put away the passion.’”

“Exactly,” she grunts as she starts her workout again.

Yeah, you really need to get out of this relationship. Maybe if you can get Tony to be more passionate, you might have a reason to stay. Tony is doing some work but he doesn’t turn you away when you show up to his house uninvited. You want to talk to him, you want to bring this up, but you’re not sure how to. He flips through papers while you’re staring at his side profile.

“Hey, Tony?” you ask before you can talk yourself out of it. He hums in acknowledgment. “Do I ever drive you crazy?”

“No, of course not.”

“Come on, there must be something that I do that gets under your skin.”

Tony lowers his papers and looks at you. “No, I can’t think of anything.” You sigh and look away from him in annoyance. Mostly at yourself for not giving into the passion he must have locked inside of him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. I just want that… that fire.” You sit up and quickly kiss him. “Just… you know what I’m talking about.”

This time, your kiss catches him off guard and he rears back like he’s in pain.

“Ow, I think you bit my lip. What are you doing?”

“Come on, Tony, don’t you want to tap into that raw, sexual passion I know you have?”

You push at him until he is forced to lean back, and you straddle his waist. The papers on his lap flutter to the floor, and he looks upset that all the papers are now out of order.

“I don’t have--”

“Yes, you do. I’ve seen it. Come on, Tony. Just give in.” You sound like a fucking predator, but what else are you going to do? How else will you get what you want? You bunch the front of his shirt in your fists and kiss him again, but he doesn’t kiss you back. “Stop, what are you doing?”

“Tony…”

“No, stop.” He pushes you away and looks at you like you have three heads. “What are you doing?”

This is pointless. He’s not going to give you what you want. Before you make an even bigger fool of yourself, you slide off his lap with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… something is missing. I didn’t know something was missing until I saw you and Pepper at dinner last night. You two wanted to strangle each other, and I want that! I want what you and Pepper have.”

“You want me to treat you like I treat my ex-wife?” He pauses. “Who I hate?”

“No,” you sigh and stand up. This isn’t coming out like you’d hope it would. “You two have this spark, this passion. I want that. You can’t deny that you have it. I saw it last night.”

“Passion is overrated, Y/N.”

This relationship has reached its end. You’re not going to get what you want with him.

“I want to go home. I walked here, so can you take me home, please?”

“Y/N…”

“Please?”

Tony sighs but nods. The car ride is silent because you have nothing left to say. You’re going to leave this car knowing you and Tony are over. He pulls up to your building but neither of you get out.

“I really like you, Y/N, and I like what we have. I thought you did, too.”

“I do. I did. I just…”

“Look, I’ve already done the crazy, explosive passion thing with Pepper. It was like constantly living on the edge of the cliff. I’m not looking for that anymore.”

You nod and pick at a piece of lint on your dress. “I understand, but I am. I want that passion even if it’s harder and hurts more.”

“So, this is it, huh?”

“Yeah. Goodbye, Tony.”

He leans in and kisses your cheek, and you leave before he can see you crying. You take your time going back to the apartment, just drained from the day’s events. You open the front door and almost trip on Bucky’s motorcycle helmet.

“Goddamn it, Bucky,” you growl and kick it off to the side. His bedroom door opens and you turn to give him a piece of your mind when you freeze. Sharon walks out of his room wearing nothing but one of Bucky’s shirts. “Sharon…”

“Do I know you?”

“No. Sorry. I’m Y/N, Bucky’s roommate. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh, Y/N. I have heard about you. He talks about you a lot. Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.”

She leaves just as Bucky walks out of his room. Out of all the ways he pictured this happening, he never thought he’d see you so heartbroken. It makes him feel like an asshole considering he didn’t do anything wrong. He needed to get over you because you’re with Tony, so he called the one person that might have said yes to coming over.

“I didn’t know you’d be back tonight.”

“Sharon?” you ask. “Did I hear the stories right? She broke your heart, Bucky. You had a terrible relationship!”

Bucky is about to answer when Sharon comes back.

“Excuse me, Sharon, I’m just going to talk to Y/N for a second. I’ll only be a minute.” She nods and waves to you as he closes the bedroom door. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem? You’re making terrible life choices, Bucky!”

You walk away from him, but he follows you because he is not done with this conversation.

“Oh, you think you know everything, don’t you? I’m actually so sick of you,” he growls.

“I don’t know everything. I’m just disappointed in you!”

“Maybe I should be more like you, Y/N, and run into the kitchen and make pastries with sprinkles on them.”

“I don’t always do that,” you glare.

“Then maybe I’ll put on a dumb pajama outfit and tell others how to live their life!”

“It’s not a pajamas outfit!” you yell. “It’s just called pajamas!”

“That’s what I said!” he yells back.

Anger bubbles under your skin as tension grows thick between you. “Why don’t you go back inside your room and put on that dumb Henley and keep not living up to your potential!”

Bucky steps closer to you. “You’re a crazy person, Y/N!”

“No, I’m just saying things you don’t want to hear!”

“You know what I’d like to hear from you?”

“What?” you shout.

“Silence!” he yells.

“I’m not gonna be silent!” you scream at him. “I’m trying to help you, Bucky!”

Bucky grabs your shoulders. “For once in your life, just shut the fuck up! Please! I don’t want your help!”

His cheeks are pink from anger but his eyes are full of fire. The blue in his eyes is swirling with anger.

“Stop making that face. I hate your face,” you growl, briefly glancing down at his lips.

“What are you talking about? I only have one face! If you don’t like looking at my face, Y/N, then look at my ass because I’m done with this conversation. Goodnight!”

Bucky turns and walks away from you.

“Don’t walk away from me!”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m gonna kill you,” he growls.

He slams the door when he enters his room, and you storm over to your room. The last thing he hears is your door slamming, and he sighs knowing he might have fucked up his relationship with you.

x

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[nevereclipse]

Dumb Girl

Pairing: Tony Stark x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: Smut

Requested: nope, this is purely self-indulgent.

Summary: Overwhelmed with work and stressed, you go to your boyfriend to clear your head. He empties it in the way only he knows how.

Warnings: dark!tony if you squint, degradation, praise, dumbification, mentions of reader being overwhelmed (not in a sexy way), daddy kink, plot what plot, thigh riding, rough sex, raw p in v (wrap it up folks), oral (fem receiving), dom/sub undertones, dirty talk (tony can't stfu up), lotssss of pet names, reader is v tired, but still enthusiastically consents, take that as you will. not proof read!

A/N: fun fact, i couldn't decide if i wanted to write this with tony or bucky, but i decided if fit tony's character better. this is pure filth lol.

--

You felt like shit. Your mind was running at a million miles an hour, yet somehow you couldn't grasp onto a single thought. Everything was painful, and slightly out of reach. You had a thousand things to do, all equally important, and no time to do any one them.

You needed a break. You'd only left work after one of your co-workers forced you too, and you'd fully intended to keep working when you got back home, until you'd gotten in the car and run 2 red lights accidently because you were so tired. You rubbed your eyes, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt. It was after 10pm by the time you got into the door.

You kicked your heels off in the doorway. Tony always hated it when you did that, but you really couldn't be fucked to fix it. You just wanted it all to be quiet and go away. You smiled when you saw the light in your bedroom was still on. Tony must still be awake.

"Sweetheart? That you?" Tony called from your bedroom.

"Yeah," you called back, "I'll be in in a sec." You paused for a moment, running a hand down your face. Your brain still wouldn't shut up, and the moment you got into your bedroom, you crawled into Tony's arms.

One hand settled on your hip instinctively, thumbing rubbing against the bone, and the other found your hair. Tony didn't say anything, letting you bury your face in his neck. It wasn't uncommon for you to greet him this way, especially not after a long day, so he let you sit quietly for a moment, pressing the occasional kiss into your hair.

It was only when you sat there for over 5 minutes that Tony finally frowned and asked, "You okay, sweetheart?"

"It hurts," you groaned, burying your face in the crook of Tony's neck. He tensed instantly, pulling you back just enough that he could scan you for injuries.

"What hurts? Are you okay? Did someone say something? Do something?" Tony's questions came out rapid fire, assessing you for any possible damage. Always the protector. He scanned your face, taking in your tired eyes and slightly smeared makeup.

"My brain won't shut up." You said, frustration dripping from your words. "I've got so much to do, and the time and energy to do none of it."

Tony tsk'd. "Ah, honey." He pulled you closer, hand pressing soothing pressure onto the back of your neck. "What do you need?"

You looked up at him, lips pouted, and kissed him. It was a little forceful, and messy, but Tony took it in stride, returning the kiss until you pulled back and said, "I need you to make it stop."

Tony frowned for a second, about to tell you why he couldn't, before meaning clicked. His eyes darkened, and when he spoke, his tone was hard and low.

"FRIDAY, lock the door."

"Yes, Mr. Stark."

You grinned. You were about to thank Tony, but you didn't get the chance before his lips were on you okay. He slid the hand on your neck up and into your hair, tugging not-so-gently at the strands at the base of your neck. His kissed you, mouth open and hot, tongue darting to flick against your lips. You opened your mouth in response, sinking into this kiss, and moaned when you felt Tony's tongue against yours. His free hand wandered over your body, skirting between your hip and pulling you closer. You couldn't help but grind down slightly, perfectly positioned from where you straddled him.

"My girl need to turn her brain off for a bit, hmm?" Tony said, pulling back. He slid both hands to your hips, forcing them to keep moving.

"Y-yeah," you stuttered as Tony positioned you so your clit pressed hard against his thigh.

"Look at you, already stumbling over your words." Tony chuckled as he watched your cheeks heat. "My dumb girl. Can't think 'bout anything once she starts getting wet, can she?" Again, he chuckled, not expecting an answer. He stayed like that for a moment, gently grinding you against his thigh as your pants started to fill the room. He could feel himself beneath his pants, aching and hard.

"Alright, this, off." He pulled your shirt up and over your head without much fuss, everything else following quickly. Tony leaned in and kissed your neck, his lips open and leaving saliva and little red marks smeared across your skin. His tongue darted out to ease the pain of one of the marks, and you moaned. At some point in his attack on your neck, you'd stopped grinding against his thigh, and he tutted.

"Did I say you could stop?" He asked, hands snaking up your body to fondle your breasts.

You gasped when he pinched a nipple. "N-no.."

"No, what?" Tony asked, biting just above your collarbone for emphasis.

"No, daddy." You just forced the words out, your rational thought already slipping away from you.

"Atta girl." Tony hummed. "You know the rules, babygirl. You don't do anything, or stop doin' anything, unless daddy says so. Right?"

"Uh-huh..." you whimpered.

"And why's that, baby?" Tony asked, sucking just above your right nipple. You could barely think through the pleasure, but, you supposed, that had been the point.

"Cause- cause..." you struggled to get the words out.

"Cause... cause..." Tony repeated, his tone mocking, "Cause why, baby?"

"Cause 'm too dumb," You finally got the words out, rutting against Tony's clothed thigh. Your soaked cunt was leaving wet marks on his pajamas.

"That's right, sweetheart. You're my dumb girl, yeah."

You nodded, too focused on the feeling of your clit gliding against Tony's muscled thigh. You started moving your hips faster, vaguely aware of the high, pathetic whines that where leaving your mouth. Tony watched for a moment, guiding you listlessly with your hips, before reaching up and wrapping on hand around your throat, and bringing you into another sloppy kiss.

He moaned into your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. The combination of the friction against your pussy and his hand around your throat had your orgasm building rapidly.

"Gonna- gonna-," That was all you managed to get out, but it was all you needed.

"Aw," Tony hummed, "Do you wanna cum?" He asked.

You nodded desperately, "Please, daddy."

"Not yet, babygirl."

Tony pushed you off him, roughly pulling you towards the edge of the bed. With one hand on each thigh, he forced your legs apart and sunk down to his knees. "You're not gonna cum unless it's with my mouth on you, yeah?"

"Yeah- yeah."

"Look at you," Tony cooed, swiping a finger through your soaked folds, "So fuckin' wet. All desperate and whiny, too. D'you like it when I call you out for being fucking stupid?" Tony asked, teasing his thumb around your clit. You struggled to get a word out, and Tony quickly retracted his touch. "Uh-uh. Answer me, baby."

"Yes! Yes! I like it," you answered quickly, desperate for Tony to keep touching you.

"There ya go," he said, resuming his feather-light touches on your cunt. They weren't enough. "I haven't fucked you completely speechless yet. Don't worry, sweetheart, there's still time."

With that, Tony pressed a quick kiss against your mound, before sucking your clit into his mouth. He ate you out like a man starved, alternating between licking long strokes up your folds, probing at your hole with his tongue, and grazing his teeth or nose against your clit. You were pretty sure you blacked out at one point, all your stresses and thoughts floating away into a void of pleasure. You reached on hand up and toyed with your tits, until you were a writhing mess on the bed.

Tony looked up at you for a moment, your slick coating his goatee, and grinned. "Listen to you, mewling like a desperate slut," he mocked. You tried to answer, but he plunged two fingers into you and your words were cut off by a choked moan.

"No, no, baby girl, you know the rules. Stupid girls like you can't speak, can they?" There was a harsh edge to Tony's voice. "That's why you've got me, right? To do all the speaking and thinking for you? It's too much for your dumb little brain to comprehend."

You nodded, babbling out a string of incoherent yesses.

"Thought so." Tony lowered his head again then, pumping two fingers inside you as he licked and sucked at your clit. You felt your orgasm rapidly approaching, and you hips flew off the bed as you arched into Tony's touch.

"Gonna cum-!" You cried. Tony was relentless, only pausing for a second to nod his permission. You screamed as you came, and Tony didn't stop, working you through to the ends of your orgasm. When he pulled back, his fingers were slippery and coated in you.

"Sound so pretty when you scream like that, baby," He whispered, pushing himself up on top of the bed. You didn't know when, to braindead to pay attention, but he'd somehow managed to rid himself of his clothes. He crawled forward till he lay on top of you and kissed you. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

When he pulled back, he brought his fingers up for you to inspect. "Look at the mess you made," he hummed, pressing those two fingers against your lips. "Better clean it up for me."

You sucked his fingers eagerly into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digits as you sucked your self off them. As you sucked, Tony lined his now-aching cock up with your entrance.

"God," he muttered, "You look so perfect like this. All braindead and stupid. Why can't you just stay like this all the time?" He asked, stroking his head between your sensitive folds. You twitched, over stimulated.

"Daddy- can't..." You whimpered, shaking your head slightly. Your legs were still shaking, your brain blissfully empty. Finally.

"Uh-uh," Tony said, fondly brushing the hair from your face, "I thought we'd established you were too stupid to make decisions for yourself, hmm? Isn't that right?"

"I-... I..." He was right. You could barely speak.

"I said, 'isn't that right?'" Tony repeated, pushing just slightly into you for good measure.

"Yes," you moaned, "'M too stupid..."

"And you need daddy to think for you, right?" Tony pushed into you slowly, sinking into your cunt to the hilt. You moaned loudly, too focused on the feeling of his cock inside you to think properly. He thrusted slowly and languidly, not in any real rush.

"Yeah, need... need daddy to think for me." You babbled obediently, clawing at Tony's back to get him to move faster. He didn't, continuing to thrust painfully slowly.

"I mean, how can you be trusted to think for yourself?" Tony mocked, watching you gasp and writhe beneath him, "One orgasm and you turn into a braindead cock whore."

You nodded your agreement, moaning loudly as one of Tony's thrusts hit just the right spot inside you. Something in the moan must've made him snap, because suddenly he was thrusting into you quickly and ruthlessly, each snap of his hits forcing his cock against your g-spot.

"Ah!" You cried out, eyes drifting shut for a moment before you focused back in on Tony's face. He was smirking down at you, one hand on your hips to steady himself, and the other rubbing gently against your clit. You mouth hung open, whimpers and moans falling out. You could feel saliva pooling and starting to drip down onto your chest. You must've looked completely fucked out.

"That's it, babygirl," Tony grinned, "Good girl. Give in to it, you know you love it. My perfect dumb girl."

You clenched around Tony at that, the combination of his degrading words and perfect touch bringing you right to the edge of a second orgasm. Tony's orgasm was approaching as fast as yours, you could tell from the way his thrusts got sloppier and his teasing words started to drop out.

"Cum with me, sweetheart," he managed, before he spilled inside of you. You came with a cry, walls fluttering around Tony's cock. His thrusts stuttered, then slow, but he didn't stop fucking his cum back inside of you for another few minutes.

You blinked blearily, only slightly more aware than before, as Tony, sweaty and smelling like sex, collapsed on top of you. He pulled out slowly, tugging you against him. Your brain still moved slowly, only half registering what was going on. After a moment, you registered Tony walking back towards you with a damp towel. When had he left the room? He cleaned between your legs gently, murmuring affirming words about how good you were under his breath. at some point, he wrestled you into one of his AC/DC shirts.

You didn't fuck again till much later, but he didn't let you think again for the rest of the night.

fin.

hope you enjoyed!! feedback is fuel <33

[rana030]

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

[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

[mostly-marvel-musings]

The Unholy Trinity

A/N: Alright. You wanted more? Here’s more. Leave a heart, comment & reblog if you’ve enjoyed :)

Pairing: Female Reader x Tony Stark x Logan Howlett

Warning: 18+ you might combust. SMUT.

Word count: 2.2k

Logan Masterlist

Main Masterlist

.

The warehouse smells like sweat, scorched metal, and bad decisions.

You’re crouched behind a rusted crate, eyes narrowed through the scope of your rifle, breath steady. Two guards at the north end, three at the back. You’ve got a clean path. You could take them down quiet and fast—no fireworks, no drama.

But of course, drama is airborne and barrelling in at top speed.

“Heads up, sweetheart. I’m coming in hot.”

Tony’s voice crackles through your comms with all the calm of a man who definitely shouldn’t be smirking mid-flight. He blasts through the skylight with a flourish, repulsors gleaming and ego cranked up to eleven. Metal crunches. Men scream. Alarms wail.

So much for stealth., you sigh.

From the opposite end, a growl—low, animalistic, and way too entertained.

“Told you Stark doesn’t do subtle,” Logan mutters, already mid-sprint. He tackles two guards like it’s foreplay, claws flashing in the moonlight. Blood hits the floor in perfect rhythm with your rising irritation.

You leap from cover just in time to see your perfect shot go up in smoke. Literally. One of Tony’s repulsors zaps the last target before your fist can even reach him.

“Really?” you snap into the comm. “I had that one.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony says cheerfully, landing beside you with an unnecessarily dramatic thud. “I saved you the wrist strain.”

“Maybe I wanted the wrist strain.”

Logan saunters over, wiping blood off his knuckles. “Hell, let her hit someone, Stark. She’s been on edge all day.”

Tony’s helmet slides back, revealing that stupidly attractive grin. “Can you blame her? Between you and me, she hasn’t exactly gotten a lot of rest lately.”

Logan’s eyes flick to you, slow and knowing. “She’ll sleep fine after this. Unless, of course, you start showboating again.”

“Showboating?” Tony scoffs. “That wasn’t showboating. That was a statement.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, shoving past both of them. “A statement that reads ‘my girlfriend can’t land a punch because my boys won’t stop measuring their dicks in public.’”

Silence.

Tony smirks, too-casually,

“…Well, if you’d like a side-by-side comparison—”

“Stark.”

Logan chuckles darkly. “Don’t tempt her. She’s got a mean right hook when she’s annoyed.”

“Which I would’ve used, if you two didn’t steamroll the entire goddamn mission like a pair of horny wrecking balls.”

They glance at each other, then back at you.

Then Tony shrugs. “At least we’re efficient horny wrecking balls.”

You groan, dragging a hand over your face as you stalk off toward the exit.

“Next time,” you call over your shoulder, “I’m going in alone.”

They trail after you—Tony whistling, Logan lighting a cigar.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Logan drawls, amused. “And miss all this eye candy?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tony adds. “Besides… you still owe me.”

.

The door crashes shut behind you, sealing in the smoke, the sweat, and the wicked pulse of what just happened. What’s about to happen.

Your boots hit the tile with a dull, wet thud—scuffed, blood-slicked. Not all of it’s yours. You don’t care.

Your pulse is a riot in your throat. Limbs still humming with aftershocks from the ambush you walked out of barely intact. You shouldn’t be standing. You should be crashing, but your body has other ideas.

Logan’s the first to speak, voice low and rough as gravel under a boot. “You good, darlin’?”

You turn, eyes dragging over him. Shirt torn, knuckles stained, jaw clenched tight like he’s holding back the entire goddamn animal.

“Fine,” you lie, stripping off your tac vest. “Pissed. Rattled. Wired.”

Tony hums from across the room. He’s peeled out of the top half of the suit, arc reactor casting eerie shadows over his bare chest, still rising too fast from the fight. Or from the sight of you. Maybe both.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he says, grinning like a devil who already knows your sins. “I love you wired.”

“You love anything that ends with you getting your ego stroked and your belt undone.”

He chuckles, licking his bottom lip. “I love results.”

You don’t realize the three of you are moving until you do. Like you’re caught in some magnetic field pulling you together, powered by adrenaline and every pent-up, unspoken, undeniable thing you’ve refused to say out loud.

Logan’s behind you now. You can feel him—hot, massive, dangerous. His hand finds your waist. The other slides into your hair with zero hesitation and just enough cruelty. He yanks.

You gasp—and Tony’s mouth is already on yours.

He tastes like sweat and blood and god complex. His kiss is all teeth, all need, all “you should’ve let me have you weeks ago.”

Logan’s voice growls in your ear, teeth brushing the shell of it. “Keep makin’ sounds like that, sweetheart, and I’m not lettin’ either of you leave this room for days.”

You shudder, trapped between them, heat pouring off their bodies. Tony’s lips leave yours just long enough to whisper against your jaw..

“You want this?”

“You sure you can handle both of us?”

“You want it messy?”

You smile, feral and daring and a little wrecked already. “Try me.”

Tony grins like you just gave him a new invention to test. Logan groans like he’s been waiting for this permission forever.

The first piece of your gear hits the ground. Then another.

And then there’s no more talking.

You’re not sure who moves first. Maybe it’s Tony, shrugging off the last of the suit with a hiss of hydraulics. Maybe it’s Logan, fingers dragging down your back like he’s claiming territory, not skin.

But suddenly you’re between them—back flush against Logan’s chest, front pressed to Tony’s bare skin, arc reactor warm against your sternum.

“You ever been touched by two men who could break the world?” Tony murmurs, voice smug, sinful. “We’re about to make you the center of it.”

Logan growls behind you. “Quit talkin’ and touch her, Stark.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Tony’s hands find your thighs, your hips, your ass—gripping like he wants fingerprints burned in. Logan’s mouth is on your neck now, tongue dragging over the pulse hammering there.

“You’re burning up, sweetheart,” Logan mutters. “That fight got you all worked up, huh?”

You nod. Or maybe whimper. You’re not sure, because Tony just sank to his knees.

Oh hell.

“Let me,” he says, voice velvet-wrapped danger. “Let me taste how reckless you really are.”

Logan pulls you tighter to him, one hand sliding up under your shirt, over your ribs, thumb stroking the underside of your breast like he’s teasing himself more than you. “Let him. Want a good view when you fall apart.”

Tony’s mouth is devastating. Hot, wet, confident. Like he’s done this a thousand times—but never with you. You writhe, hips bucking, but Logan holds you in place like iron and heat, letting you grind against him with every wave that Tony coaxes from between your thighs.

“Fuck—Tony—”

“That’s it,” he growls against your skin. “Say my name like that again and I’ll make Howler wait his turn.”

“You think I won’t flip you over right now, Stark?”

“Not without dinner first.”

“She is dinner, genius.”

You laugh.

They argue over who gets to ruin you first like it’s a strategy session for a hostile takeover.

Clothes disappear in a flurry of rough hands and eager mouths. Somewhere in the chaos, Logan bites your shoulder. Tony bites your thigh. You swear, you absolutely swear, you leave your soul on the ceiling.

And then—Logan’s behind you again, this time bare, pushing into you slow and deep while Tony leans in from the front, lips brushing yours.

“You still sure you can handle both of us?” he whispers.

You smirk. Your voice comes out ruined. “You haven’t even started yet.”

Tony laughs. “That’s my girl.”

And then, you stop thinking entirely.

Your knees are bruised from the tile. You don’t remember when that happened.

Might’ve been when Logan flipped you over like you were his, grunting out something feral between your shoulder blades while Tony watched, one hand stroking himself and the other buried in your hair.

Or maybe it was when Stark dragged you back to your feet, kissed you with molten need, and said, “My turn, sweetheart,” like he was ordering dessert.

And you? You were already halfway gone.

“Round two?” you manage, voice hoarse, eyes wild.

Tony cups your jaw, kisses you again—slower this time. Still intense, still dripping with the weight of every want he’s never said out loud.

“You’re insatiable,” he breathes.

“You built me this way,” you shoot back.

Behind you, Logan chuckles. It’s low, dark, and filthy.

“Goddamn,” he mutters. “She was made for this.”

“No,” Tony corrects, grin sharp. “We were made for her.”

You don’t even have time to snark before you’re being lifted—literally picked up like you weigh nothing and laid out across the conference table you’d landed on mid-escape.

Your ass hits cold glass. Then hot mouths follow.

Tony kneels between your thighs, face angled with scientific precision. Logan stays up top, mouth trailing over your chest, one hand gripping your throat like he’s holding back a snarl and a promise all at once.

“Jesus—fuck—Tony—Logan—”

You writhe as you grab onto anything—hair, shoulders, the edge of the table—until you forget what the hell gravity even is.

Logan murmurs into your ear, lips brushing hot over your skin:

“She’s shakin’, Stark.”

“Not my fault she’s this responsive.”

“I didn’t say stop.”

You’re not sure who’s wrecking you more. You just know you’re unraveling like a pulled thread, and neither of them plans to let go.

Tony’s tongue drags slow and devastating. Logan’s fingers slip between your lips, coating themselves in your slick, just to smear it across your jaw before licking it off. Like he wants to taste every inch of you.

“You look real pretty like this,” Logan murmurs, voice like smoke and gravel. “Mouth open, legs spread, makin’ those sounds.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony adds, smug. “I do run a tight operation.”

“You’re running your mouth, is what you’re doing.”

“Oh, please, Human Hairbrush. You were moaning louder than she was—”

“I’ll gut you.”

“I’ll sue you.”

“I’ll film it,” you whisper, dazed and drunk on lust. “Now both of you—fuck me like you’re trying to win a competition you’ll both lose.”

That does it. Clothes gone. Bodies aligned.

Mouths on skin, hands in hair, breathless curses tangled with gasps and groans and God, yes, right there!

You come with Logan’s teeth at your throat and Tony’s fingers inside you, stretched and full and nothing but heat and chaos and beautiful ruin.

And then again. And again.

Until your legs don’t work.

Until Tony says, “Okay, that’s definitely going on the ‘Top Ten Nights of My Entire Life’ list.”

.

You wake up tangled in limbs, bruises blooming like love notes, and a blanket that definitely wasn’t there before.

Your body aches in places you didn’t even know could ache. Not painfully—just enough to remind you that last night was very real. And very thorough.

Tony’s breathing slow, his chest rising beneath your cheek. He smells like faint cologne, ozone, and something expensive you’d probably break if you touched it too hard.

Logan’s behind you, arm thrown across your waist, warm and solid and still somehow managing to growl softly in his sleep. Like his body refuses to trust the morning even now.

You smile against Tony’s skin, half-drunk on the silence.

Then he murmurs, voice rough with sleep and smugness:

“So… you survived.”

You snort. “Barely.”

He shifts a little, brushing a lazy kiss to your temple. “Knew you could handle it. You’re tough. Sexy. Possibly part Angry Muttonchops over there.”

“Don’t flatter her too much,” Logan’s voice rumbles from behind you, lower than a threat and warmer than one. “She already knows she broke both of us.”

Tony lifts his head just enough to meet Logan’s eyes over you. “Speak for yourself, Hairbrush. I’m still operational. I think.”

“Your AI had to shut down mid-thrust,” you mutter, grinning.

Tony sighs dramatically. “One power surge and suddenly I’m the cautionary tale.”

Logan huffs a laugh, and you feel it against your back. You roll over to face him, nose brushing his. “You stayed,” you murmur, fingertips grazing his chest.

He shrugs, but his hand cups the back of your neck with surprising gentleness. “Didn’t feel like leavin’. You looked too peaceful.”

Tony’s voice floats in, teasing but quieter now. “You were snoring like a goddamn diesel engine, Growlfather.”

“Yeah?” Logan says, smirking. “Still didn’t scare you off.”

“Please. I’ve slept next to Hulk with the flu.”

You laugh. You can’t help it. These two. One’s all metal and mischief. The other’s claws and gruff warmth. And somehow, impossibly, you fit between them like you were made for this chaos.

You lie there for a while, the three of you breathing in sync, skin to skin, no one in a rush to move. Outside the Madripoor safehouse, the city’s probably already awake—mercenaries trading fire, secrets being sold, the usual Tuesday apocalypse.

But in here?

You’re wrapped in arms that could kill for you.

And have. And would again, without question.

“Coffee?” you whisper eventually.

“I’ll get it,” Tony offers, but doesn’t move.

“I’ll kill for it,” Logan mutters, but also doesn’t move.

You sigh. “We’re all useless.”

Tony kisses your shoulder. “Welcome to early retirement.”

[that1nerd-20]

When a fanfic writer puts a nickname you think Is icky in their smut fic

[miryum]

does anyone else get, like, jealous when a fictional character dates or has a crush on another character?

... no? just me?