#tonynat

[enthyrea]

missing the it girls of marvel on this day<3

[justlous-art]

badass tony and natasha request for @onyxmusemusings ♡

buy me a ko-fi and get a sketch!

[katebishopofearth]

Feel free to ignore….

How do you think tony would react to nats death? (In an ironwidow world ofc)!

Anon you've caught me in an ironwidow mood, and also a writing mood, and also an Endgame mood thanks to @queeenpersephone's excellent scene rewrite. So, it seems like the stars have aligned to make me answer this ask ;)

----

"See you in a minute." Natasha had smirked and brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth, a quick goodbye like she was going to to pick up cat food from the store down the road. Tony had barely laid a hand on her waist, hadn't even begun to hold her close for a lingering goodbye before they went off to different corners of space and time, when she stepped back lithely and slipped out of his reach.

He'll see her before too long.

But a minute later – after he took a life-changing trip to the past and laid some daddy issues to rest – Clint returns alone to the here and now. Drenched and weaponless, he collapses onto all fours, an orange jewel clutched in his hand.

The Avengers stare at him in trepidation, waiting for an explanation, when all he can offer is a grief-stricken look on his face. A black holes opens up in Tony's stomach and swallows his pounding heart.

"Where is she?" he demands, his voice shaking.

The bow-less archer turns his eyes to him. A look of profound sorrow carved into the lines on his face.

No. Tony swallows the despair that threatens to swallow him whole. "Where is she?!" He repeats, using anger to mask the immense fear that yawns inside him. He steps forward and kneels down to grabs Clint by the shoulders. "Tell me, you coward!" he snarls, at once a demand and a plea. Tell me she's right behind you. Tell me she got left behind. Tell me there's still time to save her. Tell me… tell me… anything except –

Clint shakes his head, unshed tears in his eyes like the alien stars he has just witnessed. "She's gone." His voice cracks.

"No – you're lying." Tony's voice comes out far harsher than he intends. "Tell me you're lying, Barton. Tell me where she is." He's pleading now, all desperation.

"Clint?" Steve prompts, his voice even and calm and Tony hates it, hates how he can be so fucking composed when Natasha isn't here. "Tell us what happened."

"The stone demanded a sacrifice," Clint says. "I tried to stop her, I really did." A sob wrenches its way out of his throat. "I fought her so that she wouldn't jump but she…" His laugh is a broken thing. Something inside Tony – the last remaining shard of hope – shatters at the sound. "She was too fast, too strong for me." He sinks his forehead onto Tony's shoulder despite the other man's aggressive hold. "It should have been me."

"No. No, that's not true, that's not…" Tony stumbles over the words. His head spins, light particles and dust molecules and oxygen swirl around him, taking no shape. His lungs don't work properly anymore. He sees her in his mind's eye, on some barren cliff on an alien planet, and the image doesn't make sense, it simply isn't possible. That she no longer exists somewhere in the world, that the universe isn't warmer for her presence, living and breathing, as certain as the Earth spinning on its axis. Tony wants to look out the windows because surely, surely without her the sun would crumble into ash and the atmosphere disappear and the world fall into smothering darkness because a world without Natasha – is not a world that can exist at all.

Clint raises his head and the grief in his eyes is as fathomless as the pit that yawns within Tony. A black hole to swallow them both and the world with them. Part of Tony wants to put his arms around Clint, hold onto the only person who can possibly understand this terrible, apocalyptic grief and emptiness. But the other part of him wants to push him away, to curse and scream, to fight time and fate and the universe itself.

That angry, resentful part wins out. He shoves Clint off and gets to his feet. "You're right," he snarls. "She's not the one who deserved to die."

"Tony!" Steve gasps in reproach, grabbing Tony's shoulder. But Clint only hangs his head in shame. "That was out of line," Steve reprimands.

"Out of line?" Tony echoes angrily. "Natasha is –" /dead/. He can't bring himself to say the word, to make it unbearably true and final. If he doesn't say it, he can pretend that maybe, maybe in another minute he'll see her again, and this time he'll wrap his arms around her, holding her properly so that she can't slip away again.

"She's gone," Steve says with sombre finality. The lines between his brows betray that he's already admitted defeat, and it makes Tony want to punch him in the face. "We've got to move on." The look of sympathy in his eyes, that implies I know how you feel, makes Tony sick to the stomach.

Tony's voice is freezing cold. "With all due respect, Cap," which is none, he adds silently, "Natasha isn't Peggy Carter. She didn't get to live a full life and achieve great things, and grow old, and die in her own bed surrounded by her children and grandchildren. She has so much life left to live!" He's vibrating with rage, and it's all he can do to stop himself from throwing hands with Captain America.

"She did," Steve agrees, squeezing Tony's shoulder in a way that's meant to be comforting but comes across as a pressure. "But she sacrificed herself for a cause, and we'll honour that. Make the price she paid worth it. We'll save the world. It's what she would want."

Tony glares, his anger freezes his veins and burns him from the inside out. "You don't get to tell me what Natasha would want." He pushes Steve's hand from his shoulder. "For someone who says he wants to save the world, you're awfully quick to give up on the people you love."

"You can't change the past, Tony," Steve urges, but Tony brushes past him roughly.

"No," he says with icy conviction. "I refuse to believe that. I didn't figure out time travel by admitting defeat. You might be able to move on, Steve," he adds scathingly. "But not me."

He marches to the console of the time travel machine. A cold fire burns at the edges of the black hole inside him, the only thing keeping it from engulfing him in despair. He's figured out time travel once, he can do it again. Especially when it's the life of the one person he loves more than anything else that's on the line.

He looks around the tense, grief-stricken faces of the gathered Avengers. Everyone Natasha loves – everyone who loves Natasha – in one room. Steve's arms are crossed and he frowns in disapproval, but Tony can't give a rat's ass what Captain America thought. "We want to save the world?" He puts it to the team. Bruce and Thor offer tentative nods, and that's good enough for him. "Good. We start by saving one of our own. It's only a victory if we all win together."

A spark lights up behind Clint's eyes. A glimmer of hope. Wordlessly, he gets to his feet and offers Tony the orange gem that sits in the palm of his hand. The Infinity Stone that Natasha gave her life for. A singularity of the birth of the universe, but a trinket compared to the singularity, the complexity, the paradox that is Natasha Romanoff.

As Tony takes the Stone from Clint's hand, a silent understanding passes between the two of them. They would trade all six Infinity Stones, a hundred times over, for Natasha's life and think it a bargain.

"New mission, team," he announces. It's a side quest in the grand scheme of the fate of the world, but it's also the only quest that's ever mattered. Because what good is saving the world if Natasha isn't in it? He adjusts the coordinates on the time travel machine and sets a course to Vormir. "We're gonna get Natasha back." Or he would die trying. Either way, he promises silently, I'll see you soon, honey.

[queeenpersephone]

insp by @katebishopofearth's fic here

i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me.

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Russia is born in the wake of a falling wall. America rises from the ashes of war. Tony and Natasha just try to make it.

Author: @wordsformurder

[natashastarkotp]

tony being a tragic character who is perpetually stuck between the universe's rock and a hard place by virtue of who he is and natasha always having too many possible courses of action she can take by virtue of who she is and using the autonomy you spent so long trying to reach to choose loving a tragedy instead of fleeing upon being confronted with empathy and affection send post

[kiyaar]

every time i rewatch mcu i am Compelled by the missing (suggested! but mostly awol) nat tony dynamic. and every time i rewatch i gwt a little brainworm that makes me add 1-3k to my tonynat cnc project and i spend a lot of time looking at pictures of scarjos body. help

[deehellcat]

Another moodboard for @tonystarkbingo! this time the prompt was Tony/Natasha, and I came up with this au thanks to my cousin who basically lived a RL version of this as the teacher in the story. lol!

Title of Fill—A Timeline of My Life

Card Number 7014

Square Filled (Letter AND number AND prompt) A5, Tony/Natasha

Ship/Main Pairing (romantic, platonic, or none) tonynat

Rating (Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit) gen

Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers—AU-No Powers, Tattoo Artist AU, Single Dad Tony Stark

Summary: Tony’s a bit taken aback when he arrives to pick up little Peter from kindergarten one day and finds what appears to be a severed arm lying on a table in the classroom. Turned out Peter’s teacher Yelena had invited her sister, tattoo artist Natasha, on career day (Peter had asked his dad to come, but Tony was just too busy) to show the kids how she practiced her work. Tony didn’t expect to be smitten by the gorgeous redhead either, but he was, and when she talked about how working all day every day wasn’t the only way he needed to provide for his son, he actually listened. “You can work til you’re dead, but you only get one chance to be Petey’s dad.”

Word Count (if applicable) na

[incorrect-tonynat]

nat: fine then!

tony: fine!

nat: fine!

sam, around the corner munching on some trail mix: they’re literally the epitome of love

wanda: and you’re literally so delusional

[djcanipe99]

[tonysbirthdaygala]

Every day until May 29th, we will be revealing random works from Tony's Birthday Gala Exchange. These will be posted at 2pm ET each day.

Today's Reveals:

Present Imperfect by Darsynia for endlesstwanted

No Archive Warnings Apply; Rated M

After losing Pepper to Extremis, Tony decides to get the shrapnel (and thus his arc reactor) removed-- but he wakes up as President of the United States.

Tony's heart surgery is the last thing he remembers, a worst-case amnesia scenario that leaves the country with a leader who doesn't remember the last year of office, the election, or his marriage to the First Lady, Natasha Romanoff Stark. The country is two days into a national tragedy that's still unfolding, a biological attack on Washington, D.C. that has Tony and his key advisors underground as they coordinate the response-- but nothing about his situation feels right. Is Tony a national leader, a hero poised to save the country with a beautiful and beloved former colleague by his side? Or is he a billionaire superhero in need of rescue?

The Sweet Dance Between a Good Dream and Reality by endlesstwanted for imperialstark

No Archive Warnings Apply; Rated E

Bucky and Steve prepare a special gift for Tony’s birthday, one that they hope is seen as a confession an not as an act of kindness.

[katebishopofearth]

in the cracks of night (your light finds me hiding in the dark) [an ironwidow fanfic]

Fandom: Marvel Pairing: ironwidow Characters: Natasha | Tony Rating: T Other tags: panic attack | hurt/comfort | Natasha Romanov needs a hug

in the cracks of night (your light finds me hiding in the dark)

Heart pulsating. Stomach churning. Throat tightening. Panting for breath but there’s no air, no air, no air. Natasha wakes up in Tony’s bed shaking, gut-deep terror and nausea rising like the tide and drowning her from the inside. She tries to get up but the blanket twists around her like a shroud, and she flails wildly to be free of it, only narrowly avoiding hitting her boyfriend’s sleeping form. Not out of concern for waking him – her terrified brain isn’t capable of that kind of rational motive right now – it’s a survival instinct. She’s driven only by the need to go somewhere and keep quiet. Fall apart where no one can see or hear.

She’s acting, not thinking, as she stumbles across Tony’s bedroom and towards the en-suite bathroom. Driven by nausea and the fear of throwing up. Better the bathroom than the bedroom. Shoves the door open. Automatic lights flood the room and it’s too much, it drives her into sensory overload. Her bare feet step onto carpet, not tiles. The small conscious part of her brain registers this isn’t the bathroom but she doesn’t care, crawls into the walk-in closet on hands and knees until she finds the back corner where the darkness is thickest, and buries herself in the shadows between Tony’s winter coats and sweaters.

Curls up as small as she can in the dim space. Knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped tight around her shins as she shudders. Eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched tight. Digs her nails into her biceps as hard as she can, the pain the only thing keeping her in the physical world. Her heart pounds against her thighs, a juddering, erratic rhythm going too fast, like it’s trying to batter its way out of her chest. The woollen dark is punctuated only by sharp, hot gasps that deliver little oxygen to lungs that have forgotten how to expand.

She has no concept of time passing, but she knows that she’s already spent too long trying and failing to compose herself. So long that the lights have turned off and she’s truly engulfed in the dark. But she can’t make herself get up. Not without shaking or throwing up or passing out. It’s been months since she’s had one this bad, she thought she was out of the woods. That her damage has been fixed enough so Tony never has to find out. That she was safe. But she’s not, the terror always rises within her no matter how long it’s been, and here she is, having a full-blown panic attack in her new boyfriend’s closet.

The door slides open and light penetrates her dark corner. She slaps her palm against her mouth, her entire body trembling, eyes squeezing shut so tightly that a drop of moisture gathers at the tip. She has to keep quiet keep quiet can’t let him know she’s here or she’ll –

“Tasha?” Tony’s voice is groggy. Confused. “You in here?”

His proximity physically hurts. She can’t completely stifle the choked sound that rips its way out of her throat, from the part of her that wants to be held, even more than she fears being seen. The sound punctures the silence of the closet.

His feet shuffle closer. “I’m coming in there. Don’t shoot me, okay?” Rustling as he rifles through the closet. Her eyes are still closed, she can’t make herself open them as she waits like a prisoner for execution. Then shuffling, the sound of someone – not someone, Tony, her boyfriend of two months – crawling on his hands and knees to reach her.

“Natasha.” The way he whispers her name is a prayer of shock, not disgust. Humiliation rises with her nausea and fills her lungs.

A deep inhale and exhale – not hers, her nose and throat and lungs are incapable of the simple act. “Honey, can I touch you?”

She can’t speak, her throat and tongue and vocal cords aren’t cooperating, but she wants – and she loathes herself for wanting – him to gather her into his arms and let her break down in them.

[keep reading on AO3]

[queeenpersephone]

Prompt: ironwidow reconnecting after the five year gap in endgame. Pepperony optional.

this is short, but i just wanted to rewrite that one scene and this is the perfect prompt for it <3 also heads up: Steve is a hella unreliable narrator. opinions expressed by him are not necessarily the opinions of this author ;)

-

The first thing Steve notices is the nod.

It's subtle, of course, but Steve hasn't gotten as far as he has as a fighter and a leader without a general awareness of the relationships of his teammates. And Tony and Natasha have always had a certain acerbic, yet mutual, respect, but never has Tony looked to Natasha for how to make a play. At least, not more than that period of internal strife that Steve doesn't like to think about.

Tony, holding his young daughter - Morgan, Steve thinks - nods back, and Natasha turns back to Scott and him. "Let's go," she says evenly, meeting Steve's curious gaze head on. She's never been scared of him.

The child turns at the sound of Natasha's voice. "Nat!" She calls, high-pitched and excited, squirming out of her father's arms. Tony lets her down with a grumble, but he can't hide the soft smile at the corner of his mouth. The dark-haired child sprints toward Natasha, who swings the girl up on her hip.

"Hi, Morgan," Natasha says lowly, bumping her nose against the girl's, smiling which she lets out a stream of giggles. "What are your daddy and you up to this week, hm?"

Morgan catches her up as they walk down to the porch to meet Tony. "We caught fishies, and drew pictures, and I built a robot to do my chores at Mommy's!" Morgan pauses, small white teeth grinning at her father. "Daddy helped."

Tony shrugs. "I just handed her the tools."

This is all becoming a little too strange for Steve, who clears his throat. All heads swing in his direction. "Tony," he begins, eyes still on the sight of Natasha holding Tony's child. When? How? Why? "We need to talk," he finishes after an uncomfortable pause.

Natasha sets the girl on her feet despite her whining protests. "Go play with FRIDAY," she encourages. The girl leaves reluctantly, and Tony finally steps up to greet them. "Lang. Rogers." His eyes fall on Natasha, and they noticeably soften. "Miss me, Romanoff?"

Steve swallows, unfamiliar with the growing pit in his stomach.

-

"That's not how quantum physics works," Tony says, raising an eyebrow at Scott, and Steve has never wished more for the return of the man who accidentally created Ultron. Sure, Tony has grown, matured, and settled into a quiet, anti-mayhem existence, but they need a little mayhem now.

"Tony," Natasha says, and Steve jumps a little. She's remained pretty quiet through, but Tony's eyes fall on her with an unexpected intensity at her soft interjection. "We have to take a stand."

He stands, stepping by Scott to get to her, and Steve feels like he has disappeared from the porch. "We did stand, and yet here we are," he entreats her. "Natasha, you know the risks. Is it really worth what w-" He stops, abrupt, at the look on Natasha's face. Steve inhales sharply.

"I know you've got a lot on the line," Scott says, oblivious to the tension now between three of the founding members of the Avengers. "Your daughter - her mother. I heard about your divorce, by the way, and I'm sorry-"

"It's been three years," Tony interrupts, eyes still intent on Natasha. "Pepper and I co-parent just fine."

" - but I lost someone very important to me," Scott continues. "A lot of people did. And now we have the chance to bring her - to bring everybody back, and you're telling me you won't even-"

"Enough, Scott," Natasha cuts him off with an icy tone. "We came here to ask for help, not to guilt Tony into helping against his better judgment." As Scott blusters behind them, Tony's arm rises toward Natasha ever-so-slightly, then falls.

Steve has had enough. "Are you going to make me ask?" He says finally.

Scott turns to him. "What-"

"Yes," Tony interrupts. "Please. Ask, instead of making those all those judgments I see in your eyes."

"Boys," Natasha warns.

"No, Nat," Tony snaps. "What do you want me to say? Oh, thank you for coming out here, now that you need something? Thank you for asking me to rip up my life, to risk my daughter, to risk you? I'm not saying no just for me, you know. If Cap is putting these ideas of 'better' into your head, maybe you should spend some time up here for a while."

Scott, as if on a delayed clock, starts with surprise, wide eyes darting between Tony and Natasha. "Oh, shit," he announces. "Wait, when - how?"

But no one is paying attention to him. "You can't say no for me, Tony," Natasha says with narrowed eyes. "I'm not saying this idea is viable, but if there's a chance, we could at least try."

Tony gives up the illusion, reaching for Natasha's hands. "You were here a few weeks ago," he argues. "Everything was fine. What could've possibly-"

"You were here a few weeks ago?" Steve almost-shouts. "Didn't you think I'd want to know that two of my friends-"

"Oh, stop with the sanctimonious bullshit, Rogers, Natasha's the only one of you who gets an opinion on my life because she's the only one who has visited me without an agenda-"

" - Oh, are you so sure?"

"I found Clint," Natasha says, and everything stops at the waver in her voice. "I found Clint, and he needs me. Us. This chance."

"Natasha," Steve begins quietly.

"Nat, he made his choices just like the rest of us," Tony says at the same time.

"He lost everything except me," she interrupts. "And we all know I'm not enough to tether him. And neither of you seem to care. You" - she looks at Tony - "seem to think everything's perfect as long as you have your bubble. And I'm happy for you, I'm so happy to be a part of that bubble, but it's bad out there, Tony. You can't ignore it." She turns to Steve. "And you, you want this to work so badly, but you're not acting much like a leader. When was the last time you reached out to Thor, Clint, or Bruce? Because I know you haven't seen Tony. Is it all for Bucky, then?"

"That's not fair, Romanoff," Steve replies, hurt.

"None of this has ever been fair," Natasha retorts, "and-"

But she doesn't get the chance to finish, because Morgan runs out and grabs her by the legs. "FRIDAY said your heart was working too hard," she says, "are you okay?"

Natasha mumbles something under her breath about meddling AI systems, but scoops Morgan into her arms anyways. "I'm just fine, kotyonok," she murmurs to the little girl. "Let's go inside, hm?"

She pauses, then reaches up to brush a soft kiss over Tony's mouth. Steve shuts his eyes, blocking it out. If Natasha is with Tony, everything changes.

Suddenly, he feels a squeeze to his shoulder and opens his eyes to an expressionless Natasha's, Tony's child nestled in the curve of her shoulder. "Part of you is still in that bunker, in Siberia," she whispers. "Unless you come out, you'll never get your chance to save the universe." Then, she leans back. "Or you'll... lose one of us in the process," raising her eyebrow to indicate that she's being careful with her terminology due to the child.

"No one should get lost!" Morgan replies from her shoulder.

"Out of the mouth of babes," Tony quips as his eyes follow Natasha and Morgan inside. Then, he turns to Steve. "It's actually good to see you," he says finally, almost easily. "If you don't talk shop, you can stay for lunch." Then, his expression closes, and he continues, tone tight with anger. "However, if you ever insinuate anything negative about our relationship again, I will never see you again. And there's nothing that Natasha will be able to do to convince me to give you yet another chance." Then, he disappears inside.

Scotts looks at Steve. "I don't know what I was expecting from this, but it's definitely not that."

Steve ignores him, turning to walk back to the car. Now, he can identify the pit in his stomach. Betrayal, shock... guilt. "We need to talk to Banner. Maybe he'll have some answers."

Scott hurries to his side. "What about Romanoff?"

Steve shakes his head. "She'll come around. She knows that we have to do whatever it takes to save the world."

At least, that's what Steve has to believe.

[octav0h]

If anyone is interested, I am writing a story about the Avengers Assemble Tony Stark being thrown into the MCU. Please enjoy and tell me what you think! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47245087/chapters/119043418

[little-angel-oc]

This is one of the best thing here 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

sugar

Pairing: sugar daddy!Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 1200 words

Outline: Showing off your gifts to your benefactors.

Warnings: no powers au, pool sex, some power play, fingerfucking, dirty talk, pet names, switch!Nat, dom!tony, daddy kink, oral sex (m receiving), impact play maybe, if i missed anything major please let me know!

Author’s Note: based on my previous hds on tonynat & also used the precious help of the love of my life @that-sarcastic-writer 🖤also my first time writing a sugar baby au.

PS: dividers & banners by @saradika

Main Masterlist ・❥・Tony Stark Masterlist ・❥・Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

"Just give it a twirl," Natasha says sitting back on the couch and crossing her legs. "You look absolutely beautiful in it." She continues admiring your body and the way the diamond bikini they had just gifted you looked on you.

"Just perfection." Tony mused taking a sip from his whiskey glass, his stare hard on you. It has been almost two months since that arrangement of yours started. Tony and Natasha both well-established socialites and business moguls were apparently so willing to share an end goal: you.

Three months ago you had walked inside that very office to apply for an assistant's job and by the end of the week, you had ended up on a private jet, legs apart with two tongues toying relentlessly with your pussy. Life was just amazing like that.

"Thank you." You beam and make a little curtsey. "Looks wonderful. Though not that practical." You wink at them and continue to strut around slowly.

"Well, it's for private sessions..." Tony said shrugging.

"Maybe watching you wear that while writing down Tony's speeches will have him actually show up to work." Natasha retorted and chuckled. "You know he needs it."

"Oh, she's mean already. I like that." Natasha just scoffed at his reply and you came closer to her, walking right in front of her.

"Turn around and kneel, baby." The red-haired woman instructed you and you followed suit turning around slowly and begging to kneel elegantly on the floor, showing off your accustoming diamond butt plug adorned in Natasha's business symbol.

"Now that's what I like to see, baby."

"Quite beautiful indeed. How about you go there inside the pool and see how well you can swim in that bikini." Tony said pointing at the warm indoor pool, its cyan waters looked mighty inviting. You slowly got back up and walked over to the ladder. Gracefully you get inside the pool and sink yourself inside rising back up.

"Just perfect." Tony mused as he came closer to sit by the chair nearby while Natasha ripped her dress off her body, and jumped right into the pool in her black underwear.

She crushed her lips onto yours pushing you against the pool's wall and roughly kissing your face and neck. You glanced a little just to watch Tony already palming himself at the sight of you.

"Don't you dare take it off," Natasha warned you holding your chin up and using her free hand to feel how your body felt under the water.

"N-never." You breathed out and just like that Natasha's lips were on your nipples, the diamonds slightly pushed aside and she was licking it around. It was hard for you to keep your body up so you tried sitting on the ladder steps for a grip.

Natasha gets rougher with each kiss and grasp of your skin, caressing the diamonds ever so delicately before roughly squeezing the skin underneath. Your hands stay on the barrister of the ladder trying to hold on as her one hand begins to rub on your pussy under the water, a unique yet familiar sensation. The red-haired woman was obsessed with fucking you in that particular pool and though she never has let you know about its sentimental value you're more than happy to follow her through.

Tony comes closer, dressed in his fancy robe. "I'm not in the mood to get wet tonight. Let's take her to bed." Natasha stops just to glare at him and that's when her hands begin to work faster on you.

"I don't feel like using the bed tonight."

"Natasha." He looks at her so sternly that has your own pussy clenching and clenching on Natasha's fingers, fuck, you felt coming close to an orgasm already.

"Don't you dare make her dumb this early."

Natasha only smirks before she adds more pressure to your clit and uses her fingers expertly to elicit an echoing moan from you.

"I-I'm cumming." You breathe out, your body shaking. "I can't-" You squeal as the coil inside you tightens. "Fuck, I can't." It's getting too much for you now, you need to release yourself and you can't be waiting for them to agree on something.

"Fuck!" You yell out and your body starts shaking your back arching.

"You're a really mean person," Tony says looking sternly at Natasha.

"You are a very annoying person." She chuckled and removed her fingers from you. "Go ahead, carry her to the master chamber."

Tony raises an eyebrow as he reaches down for you and ungrasps your hands from the banisters. "You've been such a good girl, now come with me to the bed and I'll show how annoying I can become for Miss Romanoff right here."

You were pliant to his touch as he helped you get up wrapped a towel around you and helped you walk to the chambers. Natasha followed close behind.

"On the bed both of you," Tony ordered the minute you walked through the door and you both got on the bed. Natasha sat with her knees together looking at you and caressing your cheek. "Have I been bad, Daddy?" Natasha mused rubbing her legs together, her short dress left nothing to the imagination.

"Yes, terribly, so." He chuckled, loosening up his dress robe. "You know what that means." Of course that was only a game between the two, Tony could never be mad at Natasha for whatever she felt like doing to you. Plus Tony was the greatest observer you've ever met during sex. He had previously spent hours upon hours watching you both straddle each other.

"Unlimited fun," Natasha smirked and pushed you down on the bed getting on top of you, pining you down to the mattress with her strong thighs. Tony chuckled and took off his robe allowing it to hit the floor before coming closer to the bed.

"Now open your mouth, princess." He instructed and you dutifully obeyed opening your mouth wide. He pushed his velvet boxers down revealing his hard erection and stroke it three times.

"Now get it very wet for me baby." You reached out with your hand to guide his member inside your mouth and kitty licked his tip first with a very satisfied look i your eyes. Natasha started moving her hips above you slowly, the hard diamonds adding a stingy sensation against your skin that you knew they would leave a bruise for tomorrow.

"Are we going to ruin kitten tonight?" Natasha asked looking at you as Tony moved his hips to force his cock down your throat.

"Hm, maybe we could see how much she can take. We got her such a special gift anyway, would be a waste not to treat as a specialty."

"Very well then."

And when Tony started with you, it was like he could never let you go.

And oh boy were you in for a night of fun....

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

[katebishopofearth]

warm my brittle heart (even if it's only for a moment)

Fandom: Marvel Ship: ironwidow Characters: Natasha Romanoff | Tony Stark Rating: G Other tags: fluff and light angst | domestic | established relationship

warm my brittle heart (even if it's only for a moment)

It was a clear evening in spring. Late enough in the season that the frost had long melted, the branches were clothed in budding shades of yellow and green, and light lingered in the sky long after the first stars could be seen. Early enough that the air was light and crisp, the breeze across the lake brought a shiver, and the flickering fire pit in the backyard was needed for warmth as much as ambiance. Natasha snuggled deeper into her nest of cushions, rolling her shoulders back until she felt a satisfying pop in the left one. In a while – maybe fifteen minutes, maybe an hour – her bad knee would start to twinge from the cold and being bent in one position for too long, but she had long since learned that it would take far more than a stubborn little ache to stop her from enjoying a peaceful evening.

It had been a few months since they moved into the house by the lake, leaving behind the superhero life for this quiet domesticity. Any doubts she had before – and there were a number of them, as Tony well knew, as well as a handful that were between her and her therapist – had proven futile. No old enemies came knocking, neither she or Tony were sick of each other or bored out of their minds, and Tony assuaged her doubts with his steady, calloused hands as soon as they appeared.

There was no magic button that could fix everything, disappear the wounds that their pasts have left on them, banish her gnawing fear that the little life they built would come crashing down like a house made of matches. There were still nights when Tony woke with a panic attack, or days when the dread inside Natasha threatened to choke her. But those days got fewer and farther apart. And in between them, more and more good days, filled with soft sunlight or pattering rain, coffee in bed and home-cooked dinners with a bottle of wine, quiet lakeside walks or impromptu midnight dance parties in the kitchen. One evening, as Natasha was getting ready for bed, she caught herself believing – not just knowing but believing, down in her gut��that tomorrow, she would get to go to bed, safe and warm next to the man she loved. She had laughed out loud at the revelation, and tucked it into the spaces between her ribs, next to her beating heart, to take out and treasure on the rainy days.

But today was not one of those days. It was a good day, and it was turning into a good evening. After dinner, while Natasha settled in the nest of beanbags and pillows and throws on the patio, Tony had built a little structure in the fire pit with firewood and tinder, and worked some kind of physics and engineering magic that had the fire crackling merrily in a few minutes.

Right now, Tony was coming out of the house into the garden, two oversized mugs in his his hands full to the brim with hot chocolate and whipped cream. “Hey babe,” he called as he padded across the patio and picked his way across the overgrown grass and budding wildflowers. “I hope you like your chocolate extra boozy cause there was like slightly too little whisky left in the bottle for another round, so I used up all of it.”

She turned her head up to look at him, lips lifting in an appreciative smile. “Sounds perfect.” As she took the mug from him, his fingers glided along the raised scar on her wrist and cupped her hand briefly before slipping off. She wrapped her cold fingers around the ceramic and let its warmth seep through her skin, before she took a sip of the boozy, milky drink, and let out a satisfied mmm.

“Oof, this is cozy,” Tony groaned, sinking into the cushions next to her. “Budge over.” Natasha shifted slightly, and they shuffled around for a minute, rearranging themselves on the pillows to sit comfortably, mindful of the precariously full mugs in their hands. Finally, they settled down with their legs tangled together, Tony’s arm around Natasha’s shoulders, tucking her into his chest, and Natasha reaching up to her shoulder to lace their fingers together. It was often Tony who sought to be held and feel safe, while Natasha was more comfortable holding the person she loved protectively. But she was unlearning the instinct that being taken care of was a weakness, and learning to let herself be held, too. Besides, today Tony seemed to be fuelled by some kind of manic energy that manifested in a need to take care of her. Like how he insisted on making the hot chocolates, and before that, stopped her from lifting a finger to start the fire. But now, snuggled up in their nest of pillows, that restlessness was finally exorcised, and Natasha could feel the contentment in his body as clearly as his warmth.

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