#Tailor Tony Stark
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Stark Tailoring Inc. [IronStrange]
Summary: After his accident Stephen sold almost everything. But for his new job he needs a suit. So he goes to the place his friend recommended to him: Stark Tailoring.
Relationship: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Tags: IronStrange, Tailor AU, fluff, insecure Stephen Strange, no powers, just the regular flirting of Tony Stark, different first meetings
Ko-fi | Read it on AO3 | Masterlist | Word count: 1.8k | Next (soon)
Author’s note: This was inevitable. I knew I would write it one day. You know I’m something of a professional fabric wielder myself. So of course, I put a lot of myself into this Tony.
Chapter 1: I need a suit
The bell at the shop door chirped up with a new customer entering. Tony raised his head and noticed with a glance that it was not his typical client.
See, his typical clients were rich and beautiful. Although, it was possible that this unknown man hid a handsome face under his scruffy appearance. And that blue Balenciaga coat was certainly not cheap. The pants and shoes seemed old. Maybe he was rocking that hobo chic style that had been in fashion like eight years ago. (The man did seem to be too old for that)
And his vibes weren’t right for that either. He wrung his hands, uncertain, as if he felt out of place.
Maybe he was just lost.
The man let his gaze wander briefly around the store before it lingered on Tony, who was behind the counter sorting cufflinks. “Hello, I’m looking for Tony? Colonel Rhodes told me to ask for him.”
“Ciao. You found me. How can I help you?”
“I need a suit.”
Okay, not lost after all, then.
Tony just barely suppressed a, ‘Well, that’s obvious’, before the words left his mouth.
“Sure. Any specifics?” he asked instead. “Occasion? Color? Two or three piece?”
“Two piece. Something simple will do. I have an event in two months.”
Tony set the cufflinks aside and picked up a tablet to take notes. “That’s plenty of time. I could probably make you two whole suits in that time.”
The man looked irritated. “I just need one.”
Tough crowd. Tony, however, wasn’t fazed by it. At least the man seemed to have basic knowledge of suits. Or at least of what he wanted. Tony could work with that.
“You have a name, gorgeous?”
The first answer he got was a snort. And, yeah sure, his appearance didn’t make the prettiest impression. He was aware of that.
But Tony hadn't sounded sarcastic, so a second answer followed.
“It’s Doctor Stephen Strange.”
Well, apparently the man wasn’t a hobo but a doctor. Tony still had a lot of opinions about his style choices though. Especially about that fuzzy animal that apparently died on his face and was now called beard.
“Alright, Stephen. I’m gonna take your measurements and then we’ll talk about the details. Cut, collar style…”
Stephen didn’t even have to think about it. He knew he wanted something simple and he had bought enough suits in the past, to know his stuff. “Single-breasted suit, two buttons, common lapel.“
“We’ll see about that.” Tony didn't even bother to look up from his tablet, where he was adding the notes in the newly created file for his strange customer. Then he reached for his tape measure, which he hung around his neck. “Strip.”
“Pardon?” Strange blinked at him dumbfounded. There might be a slight blush creeping on his cheek but it could also be a trick of the light.
“I can’t take your measurements with that airbag around you.”
“Oh.” Embarrassed, the doctor shed his coat. “Yes, of course.” Despite his words, he hesitated and played with the sleeve hem of the next layer. “The sweater too?”
“This will do. Step over here and relax. I’ll be gentle.” Tony always had customers who were a bit embarrassed. Sometimes it had to do with his person. Understandable, considering that every now and then he made an international hit in the fashion industry and branded all fashion magazine covers.
Some also simply had difficulties with his personality. Tony flirted naturally and some men felt uncomfortable with that.
Sometimes he notched it down a bit.
Sometimes he simply blamed it on him being Italian.
He put on his reading glasses and with the tape measure in hand, he went to work. Strange posture was tense. Most people tried to stand as straight as possible when measuring – and never as they usually stood in their daily life. But the longer they had to stand there, waiting, the more they shifted back to their natural posture. And Tony could pass the time very well by talking.
“What color did you have in mind?” Tony asked off-handed.
Strange answered without missing a beat, “Black.”
Tony huffed. “Are you going to attend a black tie event?” He put the tape measure around Strange's chest. “Don’t raise your arms.”
Despite his flirting and outgoing nature, Tony was always professional in taking measurements. His touches didn’t linger longer than necessary, because he wasn’t a creep.
With practiced movements, he took the measurement, then stepped aside to record the number in his tablet and was back in his customer's personal space to take the next number.
“It’s not black tie,” Strange answered Tony's last question after a short pause. It sounded pressed, as if unwillingly.
Tony didn't let that faze him. “You want dark blue. It will make your eyes pop.” He glanced up briefly and winked at him, before turning back to his tablet. “Your date will thank me. Believe me.”
The doctor’s answer was quiet as if he didn’t want Tony to actually hear it. “I’ve got no date.”
“There’s still enough time to solve that problem. Angle your arm like this.” Tony put his one hand on Strange's elbow, the other on his wrist, to move the doctor’s arm as he needed to measure it. But as soon as he touched him, the doctor flinched and jerked his hand away.
The next moment Strange was blushing and forcing himself to stay in pose. "Sorry." He cleared his throat. “Like this?”
Tony nodded, but did not comment on his behavior, instead calmly measured the length of the sleeve from the shoulder to the back of his hand. As he did so, he noticed the trembling of the doctor’s hands and the scars that ran across his skin. No wonder that he had reacted strangely. He was probably pretty sensitive about that.
When Tony walked over to the table to write down the number, Strange immediately hid his hands from further view by pulling the sleeves of his sweater over them.
The rest of the measurements Tony needed for the jacket he got mostly from Strange’s back anyway. Then he moved on to the pants. The doctor was tall enough that he didn't even have to put him on a podium for that.
"Alright, I got everything I need," Tony announced afterwards. "Let's talk about colors. I've got some nice dark blues over here." He walked over to a shelf on the wall where rolls of fabric in various colors were stored. Most of them weren't too exciting – most custom suits that were commissioned remained classics.
Stephen was persisting with his previous opinion. "Black."
Tony looked at himself over the rim of his reading glasses. "Bellino, if you insist, well, it’s your money. But if you wanna show your best side…” He slapped the rolls of fabrics that could fit so many shades of blue in them.
Tony was a tailor first and a salesman second; if he believed in his product. And, oh – Tony believed in every single piece in this shop.
“Apropos money: as long as you’re no regular yet, I’ll need you to pay fifty percent up front and the rest when you pick the suit up.”
Strange paused for a moment. "I can't pay until next month." His words were softly spoken, as if they caused him personal discomfort.
Tony raised his eyebrows. He wouldn’t start working for a new customer before he had seen some money. But if he only started next month, there wouldn't be enough time with making the patterns, the fittings and everything.
If he had made something for the doctor before and had a pattern that he knew fit him, it wouldn't be a problem. But for a stranger...
Strange looked visibly uncomfortable. Understandably so, because the prices at Stark's weren't exactly cheap. Only those who could afford it came to him.
"How did you say you knew Rhodey?" Tony asked.
"From rehab."
The tailor tilted his head. “He’s working with Doctor Stanfill.” He knew that because his friend often talked about it and he had already picked him up from there. And Tony didn't know anything about changing doctors.
Strange shook his head.“I’m a patient myself. Because of my hands.”
Tony's eyes automatically slid down to Strange's fingers, which the man nervously hid at the side of his body. He looked away immediately. His mama taught him better than to stare.
“We met at the East Coast Center For Nursing And Rehabilitation,“ Strange continued his explanation, in a way as if he just wanted to say something to avoid silence. “When I told him about the event, he said I should go to Stark‘s for a suit.“
It was rare for Rhodey to recommend anyone, at least so to Tony personally. He trusted his platypus.
Tony also knew that the ECC was a place for the more difficult cases.
“Alright, maybe I can make an exception,” he decided. Strange's head shot up. “You pay that first rate as soon as you can by next month. And not a day later, capisce?”
Relieved, Strange nodded.
“I also need you to leave your phone number with me. And don’t think I will hesitate to tell Rhodey if you bail.”
“I will pay you as soon as I can. Thank you.” The doctor remembered one more thing. “Will that be fine with the owner?”
Tony realized that the man was clueless who he was. He suppressed a smirk, but did not enlighten him. “I can handle the owner just fine”, he reassured him instead. “I will accept donuts as a form of bribery though. Oh, and you will happily decide for a blue fabric.” Satisfied that he had had his way, Tony pulled the blue fabric from the shelf.
“I really don’t have a choice on that now, do I?” Strange sounded rather amused.
“You can always buy off the peg at Hammer’s if you insist on black.”
Strange grimaced. “Blue it is.”
Tony beamed at him. “Excellent. Let’s talk about collars.”
Somehow he liked this weird stray who stumbled in his shop. As they talked about the details, he realized that beneath all the layers of scrubby and intermittent insecurity was hidden a sharp mind and that the man was quite capable of keeping up with his wit.
If Tony had to guess, he’d say that life hadn’t been kind to the doctor recently.
The rehab center Rhodey attended was for exceptionally serious accidents. His best friend had crashed a plane while on a military mission. And from what he had seen, the doctor’s hands were a mess and Strange was obviously insecure about them.
Tony took his notes while they talked. Strange had good taste and turned out to be willing to cooperate. It was as if the ice had been broken after Tony's agreement to a later payment.
Twenty minutes later, Strange left the shop in a better mood than when he entered. He was still looking like a hobo but with a small smile on his lips.
#ironstrange#Tony Stark / Stephen Strange#Tailor Tony Stark#Tony Stark x Doctor Strange#stephen strange#doctor strange#marvel#mcu#tony stark#space mermaid writing#Tony the tailor#Stark Tailoring Inc
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Time for a new uniform.
Tony should really let SHIELD take care of this particular task, but he can’t bring himself to give it up.
#drawing#fan art#by me#Steve Rogers#Captain America#Tony Stark#Iron Man#workshop#side gig as a tailor#everything Howard did Tony's gonna do better#no matter how hard it gets#so to speak
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Mine
Pairing ⇒ Tony Stark x PA!Fem!Reader
Word count ⇒ 2.4K
Summary ⇒ You've been Tony's PA for many years, and you have both developed feelings for one another over time. When Tony sees you in a beautiful red dress he can't take his eyes off you, and feelings are confessed later that same night. When you spend your first time together it is filled with raw passion, but you wouldn't change it for the world as you're with him.
Rating ⇒ Explicit (E)
Warnings/Tags ⇒ Use of nickname (Precious), mutual pining.
Smut ⇒ Dirty talk, manhandling, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, implied aftercare.
A/n ⇒ @ccbsrmsf1 I am deeply thankful you sent me this photo because the creative and other juices started flowing instantly. I hope you will enjoy this, and thank you for proofreading and inspiring me with this. I love you 3000 🩵
Events
Masterlist ⇒ @anyfandomkinkbingo ⇒ Sex under the influence
Banners: Yours truly ⇒ Divider: @firefly-graphics ⇒ GIF: Source
Main Masterlist ⇒ Tony Stark Masterlist
Working as Tony's personal assistant never gets boring, especially when he's taking you to special events as his date, just like tonight. The two of you will attend an award ceremony where he is nominated to win one for his work on nano-tech research, and you couldn't be happier for him.
Right now, you're about to walk the red carpet, but for reasons beyond your knowledge, Tony is nowhere to be found, and your anxiety is starting to rise a little. The ceremony is almost ready to start, and just when you're about to pull your phone out of your pocket, you feel a familiar, firm hand on the small of your back.
''How do you look impossibly more beautiful every time I see you, Precious?'' the smooth voice of your boss, Tony Stark, graces your ears, and you feel every last nerve streaming out of your body, and a broad smile adorns your face.
''It's all thanks to you, Mr. Stark," you tell him, referencing the fact that he bought you the red dress he gifted you a few days ago to wear tonight. When you got the last-minute invite, you were scrambling to find an outfit when Tony overheard your frustrations as you were venting to your colleague, Stephany. A few days later, a perfectly tailored, dark red dress was sitting on your desk in a large, black box.
And here you are, wearing the dress that matches his outfit perfectly, making you two the standout pairing on the red carpet tonight. He's wearing a simple outfit consisting of a black suit with a red shirt, a pair of red glasses, and slicked-back hair, making him look a particular type of handsome you don't get to see very often.
You're used to seeing him in old T-shirts, faded jeans, and messy hair when he's working in his lab or his Iron Man suit when he's out on missions. But to see him clean up beautifully like this has you slightly clenching your thighs every single time, as it's an absolute sight for sore eyes.
"How many times do I have to tell you that you can call me Tony?'' he says teasingly, and you feel the blush on your cheeks grow, warmth spreading over them as you're looking for the right words to say. When you're about to answer him, you get interrupted by one of the people managing the red carpet, ushering the two of you in front of the photographers.
He holds out his arm for you, and you hook yours through, your hand resting on his lower arm as you pose for the photos together. All the photographers can't get enough of the two of you, and Tony can't get enough of their attention either, making the carpet feel like it's going on for a long while it is only a few minutes. When you're done, however, you let out a small sigh of relief; the worst of the night is over.
''Let's head inside, Precious; I have an award to collect!" Tony said jokingly as he grabbed your hand, leading you through the mass of people to your table, where dinner would be served during the ceremony, and a glass of champagne was waiting for you. You're seated on Tony's left, and some other important people from Stark Industries are there too, though you don't pay attention to them as all you can focus on is Tony.
As the night progresses, you and Tony have a few glasses of champagne, and you notice you're starting to giggle a little, which is a clear sign for you to stop drinking. You don't know, however, that Tony is reveling in these sweet sounds tumbling from your lips, his heart beating faster every time he hears it.
When it is time to present the award Tony is nominated for, your attention shifts to the guy presenting it, and even though he looks familiar, you're not entirely sure where you recognize him from. There's not much time to think about it because the winner is soon announced, sending the entire room into applause.
''And the award winner is Tony Stark for his life-changing research on nano-technology!" the man announces. You applaud him as you get up, and the first thing Tony does is turn to you, pulling you into a tight hug that you happily reciprocate as you melt into each other's touches. Neither of you wants to let go, but when he does, you give him a kiss on his cheek, which makes his breath hitch slightly. Now it's his time to blush, but he doesn't get to think about it for too long as he's already pulled away by others at the table and heading towards the stage shortly after.
''First of all, I want to thank everyone for being here tonight because this award wouldn't have been the same without all your support. But now, I want to thank the person who means the most to me, and without whom I wouldn't have been up here, my amazing PA, Y/N Y/L/N!" Tony starts his speech while looking at you, and you blow him a kiss as a thank you. Your shyness is significantly lessened by the two glasses of champagne you've had.
''She has been by my side throughout every step of the process, and without her, I would still be in the early stages, or I would have moved on to something else entirely. Because of this, I want to dedicate this award to you, Precious. I love you, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for us,'' he says with a wink, and you can feel the warmth coursing through your veins, a broad smile appearing on your features.
When he's back at the table, he leans into you before whispering something in your ear that has goosebumps erupting over your neck and arms and clenching your thighs simultaneously.
''We should get out of here, Precious, because I have something important to talk to you about,'' he says, and before you know it, you're on your way back to Stark Tower. You're looking out the window as your foot is nervously going up and down, as you're letting all the possible scenarios of what he could want to talk about with you pass through your mind. What he is about to tell you is something you have dreamt of but never expected to happen.
Something feels different when you step into his apartment - where you've been countless times. It feels like the atmosphere has shifted since the last time you were here, not even five hours ago.
''Let's get comfortable first, Precious. Do you want something to drink?'' he offers as he takes off his glasses on the kitchen island for now. He hands you another glass of champagne, which you drink to calm your nerves before Tony tells you what's happening, all while he sips on his.
''It's best to say what I think because I am head over heels in love with you, Precious. I have been for a long time and can't hide it anymore. I want nothing more than for you to be mine, to be able to touch you, kiss you, love you the way I desire,'' he says, leaving you with your mouth slightly slack as his hand reaches up to your cheek, cupping it gently.
His deep, dark brown eyes look into yours as he patiently waits for your answer, trying to find the answer on the tip of your tongue. How you love him too, how you want to be his, how you want him to make sweet, gentle love to you for hours on end, but that's not what you say.
''I'm yours, Tony, now please fuck me already,'' you tell him, and he does, right on the couch where you're sitting, without a single ounce of hesitation. Your dress has found its way on the floor, followed shortly by his suit as you're both completely naked on the couch, your leg over his shoulder as he's buried between your thighs and eating you out with the passion of a starved man.
''Holy fuck!" you exclaim as his tongue makes contact with your clit, the tip making teasing circles around it as your hips buck up, pushing your pussy impossibly closer against his face. His facial hair is rubbing deliciously against your thighs, the burn intensifying your arousal immensely.
''Fuck, 'm cumming, Tony, please let me cum!" you say, your hands finding their way into his hair and pulling hard, leaving no trace of the previously perfect slicked-back hair as it's a mess that you can't help but pull on as you're rutting against his face. His lips seal around your clit as two fingers plunge into your dripping pussy to bring you to your orgasm. The bruising pace he sets ensures your first one has you seeing stars, and with a scream of his name, you cum, your entire body shaking uncontrollably.
Before your orgasm has even ended, he manhandles you on your hands and knees with his strong hands, and from the corner of your eyes, you can see his muscles bulging as he does so, the veins on his arms clearly visible as your face is pushed into the cushions before he lines up his long, thick cock with your entrance which is presented beautifully for him.
''Look at you, Precious, such an obedient little slut for me! Bet this pussy feels so good around my cock,'' he grunts through gritted teeth as his tip breeches your hole, your pussy welcoming him immediately as he slides in with a single thrust.
''Fuck! Such a tight pussy for me, Precious, feels so good around my cock,'' he praises you, and all you can do is moan, his hand between your shoulder blades keeping you firmly in your place. The pace Tony sets has your mind reeling, and you're slipping further into the fuzziness you love so much as he takes control of your body and your every movement, fucking you into the couch.
The sound of his hips slapping against your ass fills the room, combined with your shared moans, groans, grunts, and praises. You feel like you're floating, and when his hand comes into contact with your ass as he lands a spank, you are tipped over the edge of your second orgasm as your pussy clenches around him.
The way your ass burns in the place where he just spanked you is a delicious, welcome burn that has you moaning loudly, prolonging your orgasm even more, and the pleasure seems to be neverending.
''Oh, fuck, gripping me like a damn vice, Precious, feels so good when you cum for me, but I need one more from this perfect pussy of yours, need one more from you, okay?" he tells you as he keeps pounding into your sensitive pussy, the overstimulation slowly creeping closer after the first two orgasms in such a small amount of time.
''P-please,'' you beg softly, and the hand that was between your shoulder blades slides forward to your throat, pulling you up until his chest collides with your back, and he's still fucking you deeply from this angle, his cock hitting your sweet spot each time, earning himself soft moans and whines from you.
''Want you to cum with me again, Precious, one more, and then I'll fuck this pussy full of my cum. That's what you want, isn't it? For me to fuck my cum into you until you're dripping with it? You can have it all, Precious; need one more from you,'' he groans as he slightly lifts his hand, tipping your head back onto his shoulder. Your eyes are shut tightly as your hands move to his arms, gripping them tightly as you dig your nails into them, scratching him to ground yourself.
''So fucking close, Precious, 'm almost there! Cum for me, and I'll pump you full; I got so fucking much cum for you. My balls are so fucking full for you," he tells you, and with three more sloppy thrusts, he cums with you; your last orgasm is not as intense as you're on the edge of overstimulation. He lets go of your face as he slides out and sits down, pulling you onto his lap as you're both coming down from your highs.
Both of you are panting as you settle into his arms, his warmth enveloping you as you let your hand rummage through his hair, messing it up even more with a soft giggle.
''You know, it is the first time that I heard this cute little giggle of yours when I realized I have feelings for you,'' he tells you as he presses soft kisses onto your face, and you close your eyes as you let the happiness take over right now. You don't want to be anywhere other than his arms, and he's not planning on letting you go anytime soon, either.
''It was the first time I walked into your office; it's from that moment I had a massive crush on you,'' you tell him as your hand glides to his facial hair, your nails gently scratching it as you lean in for a gentle kiss. His tongue slides into your mouth as you're sharing your first real kiss, one that isn't a drunk, sloppy one or a quick one on New Year's Eve, but a deep, passionate, love-filled kiss that has you both gasping for air after.
''I've been thinking-'' Tony starts as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, ''-that I want you to be mine. If you say yes and are okay with it, I want to keep it a secret for now, as I want it to be you and me in this relationship. As soon as everyone else finds out, it's always a huge mess, and I want you to myself for as long as possible,'' he says, and you nod in response.
''I want that too, Tony; I want you to be mine,'' you whisper before capturing his lips again, and that's when he lays you carefully on your back on the couch.
''In that case, I want to make love to my girlfriend now,'' he says with a smirk, and you can't help but blush at these words. Tony's girlfriend sounds like perfection, and you wouldn't want it any other way.
''And I want to make love to my boyfriend,'' you tell him with an equally large smile before pulling him in for a kiss and letting the pleasure take over again. You're exactly where you want to be and never want to leave his arms again.
#tony stark#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark fanfic#tony stark one shot#tony stark imagine#tony stark x female reader#tony stark x reader#tony stark x y/n#tony stark fluff#tony stark smut#iron man#iron man fanfiction#iron man fanfic#iron man one shot#iron man imagine#iron man x female reader#iron man x reader#iron man x y/n#iron man fluff#iron man smut
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hello baby I love your theme !! i saw you were doing jason todd x readers so i’m gonna shoot my shot OFC NO PRESSURE
so we all know bruce is rich so jason must be as well but WHAT IF reader also came from a rich powerful family of Gotham, I think they would maybe meet through a gala or something and Dick would joke to Jason about how he is drooling at the sight of reader IDK BABES IT’S UP TO YOU, i hope it inspires you <3
City of Stars — Jason Todd x F!Reader
↷ summary — what happens if one of the bat sons meet the striking heiress of another powerful family? ˎˊ˗
↷ pairing — jason todd x f!reader ˎˊ˗
↷ genre — romance, fluff, slight comedy and eventual angst ˎˊ˗
↷ warning/s — a few curse words here and there ˎˊ˗
↷ a/n — hey!! tysm for this prompt oml its the cutest, and ik its a bit of a cliché but reader is an heiress to stark industries here 😭 i figured it would be interesting since, contrary to popular belief, tony and bruce wouldn't get along so it offers the question what would happen if their children got together (tea 👀🍵) this isn't based on anything btw! so there might be some ooc instances. OH AND I'll probably make a part 2 of this soon if i get motivationekehwjd soooo i hope you enjoy reading! ˎˊ˗
— wayne manor, present day
bruce fixed yet another gala for the year, inviting multiple billionare ceos and business owners to the humble party. gotham city strived under the great care of his trusted partners even when crime and corruption still runs in the city. the bat took care of that of course, with the help of his sons and daughters who also attended the event in simple dresses and suits and ties tailored to their liking.
the gala had been going on for a few hours or so which eventually became boring enough for jason to take a few shots and drinks by the bar as he scanned the crowd with people in bejeweled clothes and shimmering jewelry that blinded him as the chandelier shined on them. "is all that really neccessary.." he mumbled to himself, taking a sip of his 3rd drink of the night. "yes it is, would you rather people come into sweats like you would?" dick suddenly chimed in as he walked up towards jason and leaned against the counter of the bar, asking for a drink of his choice.
"It wouldn't hurt to try next year" jason said with a stern look on his face, occassionally shooting up a short smile to people walking by. "if bruce allows it, i doubt he would. the man practically lives in a suit and tie" dick replied, "well, tough shit grayson. you might be forgetting being the rebel is sort of my thing" jason shot back with a smirk. "ah, my bad" grayson said with a chuckle as he sipped on champagne. "so, anyone caught your eye yet?" "If you mean spoiled little kids running around with chocolate smeared on their faces then yeah" jason sighed while dick suppressed a laugh. "c'mon man, there's at least gotta be someone" "dick, i didn't come here to look for 'someone' nor do i ever plan to"
and right when jason uttered those words with no remorse, he immediately swallowed them right back when he caught a glimpse of you in the crowd. the dark yellow dress you wore complimenting the red of his suit, its like a match made in gotham, as one would say. the man had to double take in your way when you slowly walked through the room with your father, tony stark. the man behind stark industries, one of the richest companies based in new york. jason knew they recently opened a branch within the city to make way for new advanced technology and scientific engineering. that was probably the reason why you're here from jason's assumption.
"i'd say otherwise" dick snuck up beside jason and whispered to taunt him, his eyes following the lady that caught his brother's attention. "..what?" the other finally said, snapping out of it. "you should go up to her instead of drooling over here, you look like a total loser dude" dick patted his shoulder which annoyed jason. "cut it out dick, i'm not going up to her" "why not?" "i have other things to tend to" "like?" "...shut up" "jason, this is your only shot. are you gonna waste it on brooding the whole night?" "i'm NOT taking any of your dating advice" "i didn't say you have to date her dipshit, what could a friendly conversation lead to?" "a can of worms, go figure" jason then started walking away from dick as soon as he sets the glass down on the counter.
"jay c'mon," dick caught up to him which released a frustrated groan from jason. "she seems like a nice woman" "you're really living up to your name right now, stop it" jason said through gritted teeth.
in other people's point of view, it looks like two grown men are silently arguing in the corner of the big hall which then caught your attention soon after. you wanted to get to know bruce's children after he warmly welcomed you and your family to gotham before they got down to talking business, it obviously lost your interest so you quietly excused yourself from the conversation to wander the mansion.
you stumbled upon one of his daughters and had a nice conversation, they didn't seem intimidating as they said they'd be— not until you went up to his sons. you mentally prepared yourself as you slowly walked over to the duo, straightening the slight wrinkles on your dress and patting down your necklace.
"uhm, hello there. i hope i'm not interrupting" you called out to them which caught their attention. dick and jason quickly arranged themselves to look presentable, even if they were just arguing seconds ago. "hey" jason said as he cleared his throat, to which you replied with a smile. "its a wonderful party, i see mr. wayne has good taste" you tried to sound polite as possible...was it even worth trying?
"yeah, definitely" dick nodded his head. "i'm richard by the way, richard grayson. but you can call me dick" "oh uhm, pardon?" "it's unusual, i know. but trust me its fine" you couldn't help but slightly giggle at his statement, he was quite the charm. jason, on the other hand, couldn't stand seeing the two of you almost get along. he had to do something if he wanted to win you over.
you then looked over to him in anticipation, "jason" he says. "jason todd" he added. "it's nice meeting you, i've heard..interesting things about you" you said as you reached out your hand for a shake as he returned the gesture. "mhm, that's..great i guess" he nodded. "well uhm, i just wanted to come over and say hi. if our dads are gonna work together i should probably get to know his children too as a courtesy" you said with a smile, talking to bruce's oldest sons was quite nerve wrecking to say the least. they were tall, fit, sharp and certainly attractive, they're also intelligent one might add.
"huh" jason blurted out. "i didn't know bruce and mr. stark had to work together" he said. "oh, mr. wayne didn't mention anything?" "he never does" he replied. "hmm, that's a bit odd.." "trust me, everything's odd when you're around him" you couldn't help but chuckle which took jason back a bit, seeing you find his 'joke' funny enough. it was...adorable.
"i'll take your word for it, jason" hearing you say his name was like hearing angels sing to him. he didn't even realize he was developing a crush on someone he just met at a random gala, that never happened before. it must be something about you that attracted jason a lot.
"oh and, do you know where to get some fresh air? all this business talk has been making me ill for the past hour" you asked, a bit embarrassed to say it in front of them. but they seem to get your pain. "I'll let my brother show you, he knows this place a lot more than i do" "wh— you literally live here" jason whispered loudly. "i'll see you around ms. stark, i look forward to working with you soon" and just like that, dick had left you and jason alone.
your eyes followed dick as he walked back into the crowd until he was no longer seen, your gaze returning back to jason who was just staring at you unconsciously. at some point, you found yourself admiring his features for a moment. his eyes that shined against the light, his ruffled hair that sat prettily on his forehead, and his prominent jawline. 'he's cute...i guess' you thought to yourself, not until he cleared his throat when the silence got too loud.
"sooo, shall i show you around or are you gonna keep staring at me?" he said which made you lift a brow. "staring at yo— weren't you the one staring at me first?" you argued, making jason laugh at your protest. "relax, i was kidding" he added, flicking his head towards the staircase for you to follow him. "y'know, for a sec i thought you were a royal of some sort" jason started as the both of you went up. "how so?" you asked. "i don't know, you look all elegant and..the way you speak" you chuckled at his remark. "should i be flattered or is that a bad thing?" "not at all" jason said, a short smile forming. "well, that's what my mother taught me. she didn't want me to be a 'smartmouth' like my dad. he's probably annoying mr. wayne by now because of it" "bruce has already been around smartmouths enough," he turned towards you, "exhibit a" then gestures to himself.
you couldn't help but chuckle at jason. "is that so?" you asked with an exaggerated tone. "i didn't take you for a smartmouth if i'm being honest, more quite the opposite really" "well you might've if we met under different circumstances" "maybe, maybe not" you looked up to him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, a slight smirk forming on his face.
as the two of you walk through the empty halls of the mansion, you both reach the huge balcony where the doors are wide open. the cold breeze seeping through the curtains which sent shivers down your spine. you tried to fight the chills around your skin, but it was evident to jason you were clearly freezing. he unbuttoned his blazer and wrapped it around your shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze when you thanked him. "ahh, this is nice" you exhaled, relief washing over you when the distinct conversations are finally blocked. you stared into the dimmed city lights of gotham, poorly glistening from where you stood.
"it kinda is" jason added, his hands now both in his pockets as he admired the view...and you.
the longer you stared, the longer a thought began lingering. you cracked your head to the side to look at jason standing behind you, ushering him to come forward. "so uh, how long have you been here?" you started. "since birth, i'm pretty much stuck here" jason answered as he leaned against the railings. "but either way, gotham is my home afterall. i don't think i'll ever have the chance to leave this behind, even if i wanted to" there was a bit of sentiment behind his words, but you understood him. you were also pretty much stuck in one place before your father finally agreed to take you elsewhere, to finally let you handle things your own way when you came of age.
he was always protective over you which partially hindered you from living up to your true potential, but now that he's giving you a part of his legacy you have the chance to prove yourself.
"how was it like? y'know, growing up in a city like this" you followed up. "nothing to sugarcoat i'll tell you that, but uh...that's probably a story for another day" jason says, a quick glance to your direction. "another day?" "yeah another day" he said, studying your reaction. his eyes gleamed with hope, hoping that you'd understand where he's getting at. "are– are you saying—" "yes, ms. stark. i, jason todd, am hoping to see you another day"
your cheeks flushed pink, the heartfelt conversation suddenly turning into whatever this was. it was a pleasant surprise. "i— well, i don't see why i'd say no to that offer" you said with the brightest smile on your face. jason contained a smile however, letting his head fall down between his arms while he sighed in relief. that could've gone the wrong way. he tapped against the stone railing and brought his head back up, his cheeks also dusted pink. "a'ight so, when can i see you then?" he raised a brow.
"i'm in the city for the next few weeks, come visit at the flat two blocks away from the stark industries site. i'm at the third floor, second door to your right" jason took note of that mentally, making sure he got every detail down. "right," he nodded. "uhhh, how do they say this— so it's..a date?"
"it's a date, mr. todd"
#dc comics#jason todd x reader#jason todd#red hood#red hood x reader#jason todd x f!reader#✎ ─ nyx fics !#dceu
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The Green Dress
Loki x Fem. Reader (no y/n)
Wow hi everyone, I can't say I ever thought I would be doing this, but I've written something! I've been an avid reader for a few years now and have finally convinced myself to give it a shot. Any constructive criticism is more than welcome, but please do bear in mind this is the first thing I've written since year 8 English that isn't an academic paper of sorts. Anyway I hope you enjoy!
I'm tagging a few members of the SAS who I think may like this? But if you want to be removed please do let me know - no hard feelings at all : @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @acidcasualties @muddyorbsblr @wheredafandomat @liminalpebble
Description: When Stark invites you last minute to one of his infamous parties, you've not got many options on hand to wear until Nat suggests you wear the green dress you had bought months ago. Perhaps it will be enough to inspire a certain god to finally make his move.
w/c: 4.2k whoops I didn't intend for it to be nearly this long
My Masterlist
“How many times do I need to tell you that you absolutely can not do that Stark!” You exclaimed in exasperation over the cluttered lab table once more.
“But if I just ignored that little thing-” the glare you sent from over the top of your glasses quickly shut his remark down before it could continue any further. Looking contrite, but rather worryingly still determined, Stark pushed back from the table, going slightly further than expected in his chair and trying to style it out as intentional as he almost collided into several rather important projects.
“Well since you’ve thoroughly pooped on that party Brainiac, I’m declaring we call it a day here, and hey speaking of parties, you are coming later aren’t you?” He asked whilst trying not to fall of his chair and catching a rather dangerous looking item falling off one of the nearby tables he had knocked into.
A wave of panic washed through you at the mention of the event later; you had been hoping that as no one had specifically invited you to it, only mentioned it in passing, that you would be able to give it a miss unnoticed. It wasn’t that you disliked Starks events or even parties in general, you just happened to be aware of who else would be there and definitely couldn’t trust yourself to keep up a front with the copious alcohol that would no doubt find its way into your system. Not that you were totally innocent in how it found its way there. You had been hoping to avoid a direct invitation like this, purely because you had a real issue saying no to people, especially those you liked and admired. It was because of this, and only this - not the fact you would get to see Loki in one of his impeccably tailored suits again as a helpful voice in your head supplied, that you found yourself blurting out the following.
“Uh yeah sure, of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world boss!”
You had hoped that it had come out in a convincing tone, but the slight frown emerging on Starks face said otherwise. However, as quick as it had appeared on his face it was gone, replaced by a trademark smile as he slapped his thighs and stood.
“Well then, you better be off to prepare and polish your elbows, or whatever it is you ladies manage to do to fill so much time getting ready before these events,” his face quickly faltered after realising what he had actually just said and quickly followed up with “not saying of course that it isn’t absolutely worth it, especially if Pepper asks”.
In an effort to allow Tony to leave the interaction without digging himself an even deeper hole, you stood too, gathering your bag as you went, giving a slightly awkward wave over your shoulder as you walked out the door.
It was only when you made it back to your room upstairs that you fully understood what you had actually agreed to. Not only were you going to have to be in the same room as Loki, desperately trying to hide your feelings towards him, whilst watching him flirt with practically everyone in attendance, but also work out what the hell you were going to wear to a party at such short notice. Unlike many of the other inhabitants of the tower, your wardrobe wasn’t exactly equipped for these kinds of events. You had always preferred to skip out on anything that required this level of formal wear, the comfort of your staple jeans and a hoody was something you had always chosen over the tighter fitting, more formal attire required at Stark’s parties.
In a somewhat unhelpful move, you decided that putting off the outfit dilemma was the best course of action, as a frantic full-body shower was needed, and of course there was no point choosing an outfit before you’d done your hair and makeup after the shower as well. You had told yourself that the outfit choices could be mulled over during this time as well, but realistically knew that you were just lying to yourself and would inevitably put it off until the last moment.
A frantic search of your wardrobe, which involved many an outfit being taken out, only to be thrown into the rejection pile on the floor moments later, left you coming up short and in the middle of a ring of discarded outfits whilst still in just your towel. You sank to the floor, just staring despondently at the chaos around you, contemplating whether Tony would actually notice if you didn’t go after all.
It was in that state exactly that Nat found you minutes later after she had knocked, not waited for an answer and entered anyway, only to stop in her tracks and abandon whatever purpose she had come with upon seeing you in such a state.
“Well that outfit is sure to grab everyone’s attention, not what I would choose personally but good for you girl!” Nat said with a smirk, leaning on your doorframe.
“Don’t even start with that right now, I wasn’t planning on going to this until and hour ago, and I appear to have greatly underestimated my wardrobe deficiencies. Some actual help right now would be greatly appreciated.” Your reply came from the floor, all hope of being able to avoid Stark’s shindig fading with the sound of the door closing behind Natasha.
“I’m sure your so called deficiency isn’t nearly as bad as you’re making it out to be,” her voice somewhat muffled as she rooted through what was left of your clothes in you’re wardrobe.
“I mean look right here, what was wrong with this option, it’s even green, perfect to catch you-know-who’s attention!” The smile on her face dropped when she turned to face you, brandishing the green dress you had bought months ago on a whim when out with some friends, only to realise you would never be comfortable enough to wear it out in public when you had tried it on at home later that evening.
“Woah, what’s so wrong with this one that it makes you pull that face? It’s a stunning dress I can’t see what you could possibly have against this one, its perfect for tonight.” Nat questioned with a confused frown, after seeing the vehement refusal on your face at the suggestion.
“It is a beautiful dress, just not on me, I don’t-” before you could even finish the thought, Nat had pulled you up, and was pushing you quite forcefully back towards the bathroom, throwing you in there along with the dress and your raciest, laciest underwear that you hadn’t even seen her grab.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response, you should know better than to speak like that about one of my closest friends by now, by the time I’m back after getting changed myself, I want you wearing that dress so I can prove to you how wrong you are when you see everyone’s faces when we walk in later” Nate reply was somewhat muffled behind the bathroom door, but the fierceness, and her love for you, was still conveyed perfectly through the wood.
“Besides if it truly makes you feel that bad after wearing it tonight, we’ll burn it together tomorrow, I’m not having you keeping it if its going to make you feel this way whenever you see it.” The finality in her tone and promise of being able to get rid of the thing tomorrow was enough to get you to follow her orders, that alongside the fact that you were still rather scared of her, even after having been friends with her for a few years now.
With Natasha momentarily gone, it gave you the chance to ruminate in your thoughts, the dress was truly stunning, a deep emerald green that displayed your decolletage beautifully, with a daring slit from ankle to high up on your thigh. While you could see that the dress itself was objectively great, when it was you wearing it, it didn’t seem that way anymore. Instead of being able to focus on all of the ways it could highlight your beauty, all you could see was the way the closer fit of the dress clung to your stomach slightly, and how the slit showed off your thighs, and just seemed to emphasise how big they were.
It was in this downward spiral that Nat found you in upon her return, a frown once again set on her face as when she saw the malice behind your eyes, directed solely at yourself.
The way you could only ever focus on the parts of yourself that you saw as problems had always hurt Natasha, and how it impacted the way you behaved as well. It wasn’t just a matter of wearing baggier clothes that covered your insecurities, but the way you let it decide where you belonged socially. She was intimately familiar with your growing feelings towards a certain god of mischief who had taken up residence in the tower little over a year earlier, but also with your pessimistic view towards your chances of the feelings being reciprocated. Ever since you had realised that your feelings were more than that of just friendship you had immediately resigned yourself to remaining in the friend zone, refusing to believe that he would ever see you as something more because “he’s a god and I’m, well, I mean just look at me.” Nat had tried countless times to reassure you that the way you saw yourself, was not in fact the way others saw you, but had also at this point come to the understanding that your self perception wasn’t based in logic, and reasoning as such wasn’t going to make enough of an impact to change how you saw yourself.
It was with this in mind that she approached you, an arm reaching round you and pulling you into her side for a hug, while smiling at you in the mirror, before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your room and to the party on the floor above.
Your outfit dilemma had delayed the two of you a little, so when you arrived upstairs, the party was already in full swing; with music blaring and alcohol clearly flowing freely if the state that some of the guests were in already was any indication. As such you were easily able to slip in behind Natasha unnoticed, before heading straight over to the bar, feeling the need to indulge a little more than normal tonight.
From your vantage point at the bar up on the mezzanine, you could see almost all of the goings on down below you, from Lang absolutely busting it up on the dance floor to Tony trailing around after Pepper, seemingly trying to make up for something that was undoubtedly his fault, but wasn’t actually remorseful for. Unfortunately it also meant that you had the perfect view of Loki and his apparent flavour of the night. Despite knowing how unproductive it was, you found yourself comparing yourself to her, noting all the ways she was traditionally attractive, only to seemingly find yourself lacking in the same places in comparison. Even though you had accepted months ago that Loki was never going to reciprocate your feelings, and having desperately tried to allocate him into the friend box in your head unsuccessfully, it still hurt deeply to see him so close with other women, knowing what he would be doing with them that night, only to move on to the next when it suited him.
This knowledge had one advantage for you though, it had made it much easier for you to become friends with the god. As you knew nothing romantic was ever going to happen between the two of you, you had found it that much easier to relax and joke around him, even going as far to return his flirty remarks, as there was no pressure behind it for you, and the potential embarrassment behind behaving more boldly was removed. Since he flirted with everyone that way, it obviously didn’t mean anything to him, so it made it much easier for you to jokingly flirt back. It was because of this new found confidence, that you had struck up a strong friendship with the god and had come to call him one of your closest friends. It had only added to your mental torture.
After a few more self indulgent moments, agonising a little more over what could have been you turned to the bartender, and took another drink with a polite thanks and a smile before deciding that even if you did still regret coming, and especially wearing the dress, you were going to make the most of the evening. Besides how many people could say they got to drink and dance with the avengers, who they were friends with.
It was with this new found resilience that you stood from your place and made your way down to the dance floor, having caught Nat and Wanda’s eyes before and been summoned.
The next few hours passes in a slight blur of laughter and dancing for you, after a few, chaotic but incredibly fun dances with Nat and Wanda some of the other men began to join in, requesting a dance with you. Between the fun of teaching Steve how people actually danced in clubs now alongside Nat, and Bucky whirling you round the floor like an absolute professional - after complementing your outfit for the evening with an all too knowing look, you had almost forgotten about your preconceptions for the evening, but whenever you danced with one of the men, however gracious and smooth they were, you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if it were Loki instead of them; comparing the feel of their hand on your back to what you had imagined Loki’s would be like if he were there instead.
Just when you were about to take a break from dancing, a slightly cooler hand came to rest on your back, as its owner leant down to speak into your ear over the music.
“Darling, I think its about time we show them how its really done don’t you?”
The feeling of his breath over your neck as he leant in closer sent a jolt down your spine, that you were almost certain he must have felt in his hand, still placed firmly in the middle of your back, exactly where you had imagined it being all night.
Quickly composing yourself, you managed a somewhat natural reply, rather impressed with your own neurones for still being able to function at least somewhat normally whilst Loki was so close to you, having not moved away under the pretence of needing to be closer to be able to hear you over the music.
“Ah of course your majesty, I’m sure us mere mortals couldn’t possibly live up to the prowess of a god”
His low reply was barely heard over the thumping of the bass, in a way that made you question whether he had actually intended for your to hear it, if it wasn’t for the sly wink he sent towards you after.
“Yes I find that is the case in many areas darling, especially when it comes to moving their bodies”
The raised eyebrow you gave in reply expressed all you needed him to know, and covered for the fact that your mind had been sent in a downward spiral imagining his trademark snake hips dance move, in areas other than the dance floor.
Whilst you were somewhat distracted in your thoughts, he moved the hand from your back to loop his arm round your waist and bring you back into the middle of the dance floor, beginning to sensually move his hips and draw you into to him to do the same.
What you didn’t know was that Loki and been subtly watching you all evening, ever since you had walked in the door, many may not have noticed your entrance behind the Black Widow, but at this point Loki’s body was finely attuned to your presence and he hadn’t been able to draw his sight away from you for more than a few seconds at a time. You were wearing his colours. His green. But it wasn’t just your choice in attire tonight that had drawn his attention, as delightful as that dress was, you’d had it for many months before this point. Initially you had been a curiosity to Loki, kind to him when many others weren’t immediately following his return to Midgard, but after talking to you the first few times it was your intelligence that had captured Loki’s heart. He had found you to be one of the few midgardians to match his voracious appetite for knowledge, both in reading and in your chosen profession as a biologist working alongside Stark and Banner, but much less insufferable than the other two.
When Loki had first come to terms with his interest in you, he had thought his subtle flirtations would be enough to alert you to his intentions, but when these failed to elicit any kind of response from you he had slowly become more and more bold with his innuendoes and flirtatious comments when in your presence. At first he had thought he was finally getting somewhere with you when you had began to match him in conversations, but when you made no sign of anything more, he had found himself stumped. At one point he had even stooped so low as to flirt with others in your presence in the hope that it would inspire enough jealously within you to reveal your feelings towards him, alas it did not work. No one had ever taken this long to fall victim to his seduction. He had admitted to himself that this time was different to his previous experiences as truly desired more with you than just a roll in the bed, not to say that did not also desire that with you, he had thought about that extensively, but he was not sure how to progress from here.
When you had walked in tonight though, looking exquisite in his colours he had decided that enough was enough, tonight he was going to finally bite the bullet and just ask you outright if you would be with him. It was not a decision that he had come to lightly, but he had finally come to the realisation that if he wanted something to happen he was going to have to do something about it for himself.
You didn’t know whether Loki had bribed the DJ before approaching you, or it was a shear unfortunate coincidence but as you continued dancing, each song seemed to get progressively dirtier and more sensual. This combined with finally dancing with him after having imagined it all night, the enticing smell of him from being in such close proximity, and the one or two drinks you’d had early were practically sending you into an early death.
Simultaneously Loki was experiencing a similar issue, when she wasn’t looking, Loki found his eyes being drawn from her face down to her chest, which with his height he had a fabulous view down, and combined with the lyrics and music he hands had seemingly began to move of his own accord and were veering dangerously further south. He decided he needed to do something soon, or he was going to have a very hard time of it.
As he leant down once again to speak into your ear, your breath hitched ever so slightly, and a faint flush bloomed across your cheeks- a fact that didn’t go entirely unnoticed by the god, and one that made his own pulse race. All hope that you felt the same way as him was not lost.
“Are you alright there darling? You’re looking awfully flushed. You’re not too warm in here are you?”
You had barely managed to stutter out what you could only imagine would have been a terrible excuse before he continued;
“Unless of course it is for the same reason as I.”
The hope that formed in your chest from the one sentence alone caused you to whip your head up, needing to search his gaze to see if he was really implying what you thought he was, surely he couldn’t be, there was no way that he could have felt the same way towards you as you did to him. Before you could continue with your self deprecation, he interrupted your thoughts once again;
“Now now darling stop that immediately, I can tell you are already overthinking this before I have even truly started. I do not know what it is that makes you doubt yourself so, but you must know that whatever it is I do not share that same belief.”
You held his breath as he said this, still not truly believing that this could be going where you wished it was, but not daring to do anything to break the spell just yet
“I was almost sure you would have known by now, but apparently I have not been clear enough in my appreciation or my advances towards you. I very much like you min elskling, you have well and truly captivated me heart and mind, body and soul. I would be honoured if you wished to court me, or as I believe you mortals say, go on a date with me” Loki finished with a release of breath, like saying all that had released a burden from upon his chest and he could finally breath deeply again now it was done.
You just stood there frozen in the middle of the dance floor, unsure if what you had heard was really happening, surely this was all some wonderful fever induced dream, and you were going to wake up face down on one of the desks in the lab any moment.
However Loki was reading your silence as rejection, and the insecurities that he had previously pushed aside were starting to flood back.
“Of course darling, if you do not feel the same then, I would be more than happy to just remain as friends,” it was of course a lie, but one that he would guard closely if that were the case, as he would never want for you to feel guilty for making an honest decision, and would much rather keep your friendship than not have you in his life at all.
“And I can completely understand why of course if you do not return my feelings, after all with my heritage I know-” before he could finish his sentence though you had reached up and pulled his face down to your height, before promptly pushing your mouth onto his in a scorching kiss. In the time Loki had began to panic and ramble, it had finally registered what Loki had been saying, and that it was in fact real, so before he could spiral any further you had to display your feelings towards him, and this had seemed like the most direct course of action.
After a brief moment in which Loki’s brain had to catch up to what was actually going on right now, he swiftly took charge of the kiss, both of you melting into it, especially as Loki opened his mouth to let he tongue dance along your lips before slowly meeting your own. At the same time, Lokis hands began to wander more actively, finally sliding that last little distance down to your behind, which he grasped firmly before sliding one hand down to bring your leg up and round his hip, letting you feel exactly what you were doing to him. Your own hands had found their way into his silky hair, finally fulfilling the desire you had held for many months to feel what it was like between your fingers, and when you gave it a gentle tug in the passion of the moment, a low growl made its way up Lokis throat, only enticing you in further.
It was only as a few wolf whistles broke through your bubble that you remembered exactly where you both were and that it was perhaps not the best place for what was clearly on its way to happening. It was with the same thought that Loki took your hand and began leading you out of the room, stopping only briefly first to growl lowly into your ear “we need to leave now darling, don’t you agree?” Before nipping your earlobe and pulling back to grin at you.
With absolutely no objections, and no subtlety either, you nodded before taking the lead taking you both in the direction your room, before stopping to remember the state you had left it in before the party in your distress to find an outfit. You blushed at the memory and changed direction slightly to lead you both to his rooms instead. Loki however took no notice, or simply did not care for the slight moment of hesitation, as at this point he didn’t particularly care where you were headed as long as it was close by, you were finally his and now it was time for him to claim you as such.
Part Two here:
Thank you so much for reading if you made it this far! Please do let me know what you think x
#tom hiddleston#loki laufeyson#loki x reader#loki x you#no y/n#dancing#green dress#tony stark#stark being silly#scientist reader
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The New Maid
pairing | dom!natasha x sub!reader
summary | After being hired as a maid under Natasha Romanoff's care, your suspicions on her intentions with you soon grow weary. With her request to wear a revealing uniform and her elongated stares, it's not long before you can submit to more than just your attraction for her.
warnings (18+) | smut, dom/sub, dark-ish nat, praise kink, possessiveness, rough sex, fingering, mommy kink, bondage, dirty talk, degradation, spitting, slight spanking, multiple orgasms, oral sex, vibrators, mommy nat (drooling), short skirts, fucks you over her desk tbh
a/n | hi this has already been published on other platforms for a whileeeee but i’m trying to cross upload my work on here cause i wanna write more. this was also my first time writing anything ever (let alone smut) so enjoy :)) any feedback is appreciated!!
word count | 6.3k
warning! (18+): language and sexual content. please refer to tags before reading.
Working under Natasha Romanoff had been a dream. From the very generous pay to the no expenses of living in her lavish mansion, it baffles you how lucky you were to get this job. It started off as a one-time summer thing, a side hustle to earn some extra money before your sophomore year as a college student. But once you learned how well a live-in maid gets paid, you realized there were far too many benefits of pursuing the job for more than just one summer.
Training as a maid was quite simple as well, the owners would usually have articulated plans or certain schedules you follow throughout the day. However, Natasha Romanoff wasn't as easy, she had you by her side practically every second of the day. You're not exactly sure what her job specifically entails, but it must pay well for her to be able to afford such an enormous house. You're glad for the digital map of structure and layout otherwise you'd get lost just looking for the bathroom, which still occurred quite a lot. You do, however, know it has something to do with Stark Industries. When you've had to deliver messages or meals to her grand office, you've overhead her conversations with Tony Stark. Although, it sounded much more like she was talking to a friend than a business call, it was none of your business. She seemed to be a very powerful woman, and you'd hate to cross her, but so far, she's been nothing but more than accommodating.
It's only been a week, but you've wondered if she has other employees. So far, the only people you've seen, besides Natasha, is the chef, pool boy, gardener, and the silent security guards at every gate. You've yet to meet other maids or butlers for that matter but realized Natasha Romanoff is just one person. It'd be quite excessive to have multiple live-in maids. It just felt quite lonely to think about Natasha all alone in such a huge place.
Aside from the very small and revealing, cliche maid outfit she requested you wear the night you arrived, you figured Natasha was just a traditional woman and had no complaints. Especially none with spending almost every hour attending to Natasha Romanoff's needs. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt for her, but in all honesty, who could? She was an undeniably gorgeous woman. The long touches and stares she sent you at times didn't help either. You'd feel her eyes burn into you as you served drinks or prepared her dinner. The outfit she provided failed to hide the blush in your cheeks at every pet name she threw your way. Especially when she would say goodbye and leave a longing touch on your arm or stare at you too long. Every time you were with her things became much harder to focus on. But this job was the highest-paying gig you’ve ever had, so you’d have to suck it up and ignore the little (huge) crush until the end of summer.
Waking up and eyeing the maid uniform hung above your closet, you prepared yourself for your day. You'd assumed the outfit had probably been tailored for the last maid, who may have been (extremely) smaller than you. But with you having to do work around such a colossal property, it required you to move around a lot. So, when you had to practically walk everywhere and bend over every surface to reach the things, you would feel the rise in your skirt and always missed the smirk that rose to Natasha's lips when she was around you.
For the schedule today, you would help her prepare for an on-call business transaction. She asked you have her breakfast served in bed and prepare her outfit and office for her before noon. Simple enough. So, with a final brush of an invisible wrinkle on your top, you hurried along to serve Natasha her meal.
Knocking on the door three times with a tray of caviar buttered croissants, lobster scrambled eggs, and cinnamon brioche french toast in your arms, you opened it to find Natasha plaid in nothing but a black silk robe. Your eyes couldn't help but fall to her chest, where it was barely covered by the thin fabric, finding her cleavage peeking out tauntingly. Her red locks were barely tussled, you'd never be able to guess she had just gotten out of bed.
"Good morning, Ms. Romanoff. Here's your breakfast." You said as you placed the tray onto her bed and above her, your face dangerously close to her chest before you straightened yourself up by her beside.
"Mmm, good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?" She asked, a smile playing at her lips at the sight of you as she faintly rubbed her eyes.
With your hands rested behind your back and a thump in your heartbeat at the use of the pet name, you replied, "Yes, splendidly, miss, thank you. Is breakfast to your liking?"
She groaned at the use of your "Miss and Missus," the first day you arrived she insisted that you use her first name; Natasha. She definitely wished for the use of a different name on your lips, but she couldn’t scare you away just yet. Using her forename never felt polite to you, and you're not sure you would be able handle letting her name roll off your tongue that easily when you could barely manage being in her presence. She gave up soon, but it's not like she didn't enjoy hearing you call her Ms. Romanoff, either. The sound of her name on your lips made her stomach twist with desire.
Your outfit was no mistake, either, she had of course received your profile and knew your measurements, she just couldn't resist seeing you in such a thing. Natasha was a woman that paid attention to detail. Usually, she'd never even have a live-in maid, or a maid at all for that matter. She'd probably just get Tony to whip up some robot to do all her biddings, but she wasn't that shallow. After Steve had teased her about living all alone in such a large home, she figured she just needed a little more human interaction in her home life. Eventually she found a housekeeping service. Intentionally, she had only wanted to find a maid or butler that would come in during the weekdays, but after crossing your profile and seeing your picture. She couldn't help herself. She found you irresistible and absolutely perfect. Even more when you met her, and she fell in love with your innocence, shy blushes, polite manner, and cute smiles. She felt like a teen all over again.
She knew she had to have you.
She raised her glare to find you obediently awaiting her answer. She smiled to herself, "Yes, sweetheart, it's divine. Tell Jeffrey I send my compliments. Have you eaten, my love?"
The painted pink on your checks only grew stronger with her constant use of pet names. Natasha knew this just as well, she loved seeing you blush and even more when she knew she was the reason why. "No, not yet miss. I was planning on picking up something on the way to prepare your office."
"That's nonsense, Jeffrey prepares an amazing breakfast every day. You've been here a week, honey, make yourself comfortable. It's practically your home, too." Your head dropped slightly, nodding at her reprimanding request.
“Yes, Ms. Romanoff,” before you could make your exit, she grabbed your wrist and tugged you into her bed, catching you in surprise. "While you're here, you might as well eat, darling."
It sounded more like a command, but you wouldn't deny her either way, knowing you were always hopelessly compliant to her demands. That's what made Natasha so set on you, not only were you a wonderful sight to see, your obedience is what made her sure you were perfect for her, even after only a week. No one had this effect on her as much as you did. She planned to make you hers, she just wasn’t sure how much longer she could wait.
You could barely move a muscle on the large black silk comforter of her bed, awaiting her next command and watching as her hands moved to slice the French toast and raise the fork to your mouth. You eyed her, hesitantly opening your mouth as she fed you.
"Good girl," she hummed satisfied, her eyes following your every move.
You nearly choked at her words, feeling your heart beat harder against your chest and heat rise to your cheeks. After a few more bites and her gazes in between, your heart paced even faster at her next move. "Stay still, honey, you have something righttt there." She said as her hand rose to grasp your face, her thumb moving to your bottom lip as she wiped away the powdered sugar that stained your mouth. She moved the same thumb to her own mouth and licked the residue slowly, glossy green eyes never leaving yours. You couldn't do much but stare starstruck at her lips in front of your face, agonizingly close as she licked them teasingly. The action alone made your stomach shudder sensually and pool heat to your center.
You composed yourself and mumbled a timid, "thank you." Before rising to your feet and picking up her tray to place onto a table to distract yourself from the wetness growing between your legs. "I'll get started on your outfit. Does it need pressing?" You said as you returned to her side. Natasha let out a small chuckle at her effect on you.
"Yes, I believe so. It's hung in my closet; you can do whatever you see fit. I trust your eye for clothing." She acknowledged with wink as she moved to grab her reading glasses and a book from her nightstand.
You nodded, moving to her walk-in closet and setting your eyes on her tailored, black suit. You planned on pressing it in the station of the laundry room before Natasha called out to you just as you were leaving, suit in hand.
"Do it in here, I want to see you." She said, signaling you to use the table that stood within her large bedroom. You couldn't help the thoughts running in your head, but only one remaining prominent; she wants to see you.
You swallowed a gulp and nodded compliantly, turning your back to her as you began pressing her suit. Natasha smiled to herself, enjoying the view in front of her as she occupied her mind of everything she would do once she got her hands on you. It was hard enough restraining herself from pouncing on you any second of the day, but with each movement your skirt rose ever so slightly, giving Natasha a perfect view of your white lace panties and having her wishing she could rip them right off. She was practically drooling at the sight.
Once you were done, you moved to hang it in her closet where it laid before. You returned to her side before clasping your hands behind your back and asking, "I've finished, Ms. Romanoff. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
She took a moment to drink you in, standing obediently in front of you in your tight outfit. Your breasts pushing against the fabric and legs covered in white stockings. Before eyeing you up and down, she hummed to herself, "There are lots of things you can do for me, sweetheart. But for now, everything is fine, thank you."
Your eyes widened slightly at her remark, were you hearing things? You weren't sure how much longer you would be able to handle this woman and her seductive teasing. But you blamed it all on your attraction for her, declaring you were just making up things in your head. You nodded and made your way to her grand door, feeling eyes glued to your body as you made your exit.
At noon exactly, you had already finished preparing Natasha's office for her business meeting, you were tidying her bookshelf when you heard the door open. Twisting your head to find her in the same suit you had pressed earlier today. It hugged her body perfectly, but you didn't have time to admire any further as you clasped your hands together to greet her. "Good afternoon, Ms. Romanoff. Your office is ready. Let me know if you need anything." You bowed slightly and continued to the door before she grabbed your arm as you attempted to brush past her. Your bodies were excruciatingly close, you hoped she couldn't hear your heart practically pounding out your chest.
"Stay, dove. You won't be a bother, just continue your work. If you've finished, you're free to leave. But I'd much rather you stay." She blew into your ear, her grip never loosening from your arm as you stood tense at her side.
"I-uh yes, Ms. Romanoff." She beamed at your answer, nodding and reluctantly letting you go. You already missed the feeling of her skin on yours. She continued to make her way behind her desk, sitting in her extravagant chair that made her look ten times more powerful. She began working on her computer, typing away and eyeing you every so often as she continued to work. It wasn't soon before her meeting began, you were thrilled to see her in action. Not knowing exactly what her job was, you were glad to at least gather some intel on what she did for a living. You barely understood the terminology or language they had been using throughout the meeting, you really wished you had taken Russian instead Spanish. You’re not sure if it would’ve mattered anyway because the majority of the time you were distracted by how hot Natasha was, exerting her power and getting fueled up when something didn't go her way, spitting out what you assumed were Russian curse words. You couldn't ignore the same pool of wetness that grew between your legs as you watched her intently. You didn't mind staying her office, sitting patiently in the seat across from her while reading a book you picked from her office library. Natasha most definitely didn't mind either, being able to watch your every move as she worked, she loved every second.
Once her meeting had finished you assumed she would dismiss you, so you rose to your feet as soon as she did. But she only moved to unbutton her blazer, releasing it and letting it drop down her arms with a frustrated sigh. The sight alone was probably the most attractive thing you’ve ever witnessed. Your eyes followed her as she moved to her serving cart and poured herself a glass of scotch, taking a sip with one hand before walking back to her previous spot. She stood across from you, eyeing you amusingly with one hand in her pocket while the other held her drink.
"Is there anything I can do for you, Ms. Romanoff?" You questioned hesitantly, noticing her irritation from the meeting and offering aid. At that remark, it seemed any residual anger from the businesswoman had disappeared and been replaced with lust.
"Yes, actually." She said, a smirk tugging at her mouth ever so slightly. You nodded eagerly, urging her to continue. "Come and kneel for me, sweetheart." You stood in shock for a moment, mentally pinching yourself to see if you'd heard her correctly. “Excuse me?”
When she gave you a look and reiterated it with a, “You heard me, pretty girl.” It was as if your body was on autopilot as your mind ignored the shock of her words and you nervously moved onto the space in front of her. Dropping to your knees compliantly and awaiting silently for her next direction, looking up to her face, doe-eyed and sweet.
She bit her lip as her hand rose to your face, her fingers sliding underneath your chin as her thumb swiped across your bottom lip once again. However, unlike this morning, her thumb pushed further into your mouth, behind your teeth and reaching your tongue. She took a moment to admire you, legs tucked underneath you as your hands rested in your lap pleasantly with her finger in your mouth. "You look so pretty like this, kotenok."
You squirmed on the floor underneath you, trying to ignore the soaked panties you had stained from being with Natasha all day. Wanting to please her, you wrapped your lips around her thumb, your cheeks hollowing around her while your eyes never left her hungry gaze.
Her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head. "Such a good girl. Skazhi mne krasivaya devushka (tell me, pretty girl), what do you want." She requested; her thumb coated in your saliva as she moved it from your mouth to let you answer.
"I- you. I-I want you."
"That's no way to ask, little girl. Where are your manners?"
"Sorry, Ms. Romanoff."
"Wrong. Try again. Tell mommy what you want. Correctly, this time." She released as her grip tightened around your jaw.
"I-I want you, mommy. Please."
She groaned at your words, grinning slyly as her hand continued to caress your face.
She had you right where she wanted you.
"What a good little girl you are. Come sit on mommy's lap, sweetheart." She let out as she dropped to her chair and tapped her right knee twice, thighs spread to leave room for you in between her legs.
Like the obedient girl you were, you rose to your feet, taking only a few steps towards the woman in front of you with insatiable hunger. As you took your place on her lap, your skirt flew up, leaving nothing but your bare bottom in lace panties on Natasha's thigh. Her hand immediately moved to your thigh, rubbing slowly as it made its way up and down. You whimpered in frustration, wanting to feel her hands all over your body. Eventually she reached your clothed heat, stroking painfully slow over your drenched panties. You tried not to squirm under her touch, wanting to push yourself further onto her fingers but her hand firmly wrapped around your waist kept you in place.
She noticed your impatience, chuckling softly before swiping her fingers harder against your core. You moaned at the feeling, pushing your hip into her hand, desperate for her touch.
"Greedy slut, aren't you?" You couldn't answer, your mind only focusing on grinding your hips against her now spread-out palm.
But soon you felt a stinging slap against your thigh, dangerously close to your heat, you jumped in surprise and whined at the loss of her hand against you. "Answer me."
"Yes, mommy, only for you. Please, I want you so bad."
You didn't have time to concentrate or dwell on the loss as she began stroking your bare thigh again, spreading your legs firmly and pushing her fingers back to rub circles against your cunt. Her mouth soon attached itself to your ear as your mouth was left open at the sensation, letting out labored breaths.
She slid her tongue around your lobe and into your ear, "You have no idea what you do to me, kotenok. Walking around in that little outfit, I've wanted to fuck you senseless since the day you walked in here."
Your legs closed in reflex, feeling the undeniable drench between your legs. But Natasha only growled against your ear, moving her leg to wrap around your ankle, keeping your bottom strapped against her.
"Is that what you want, pretty girl. You want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk?" She teased across your cheek, peppering wet kisses along your jaw and to your lips, leaving her centimeters away from your mouth. You knew better to answer this time, closing your eyes from sensation of her palm rubbing against you.
"Yes, mommy. I want you inside of me, please, I need you so bad." You whined against her and moaned once she moved your panties to the side and slid her fingers through your juices.
"Oh baby, you're soaked. My good little girl, all wet for me, huh." She continued, looking up to your flustered face as you writhed on top of her.
Before continuing her movements, she paused, "Say red if you want to stop, sweetheart, I won't be mad. Yellow if you want to slow down and green for go. Understood?"
You nodded before realizing she wanted a verbal response. "Yes, mommy."
"Good, printsessa," she smiled before shoving her fingers into your heat, muffling your moan with her mouth and she connected your lips into a heated kiss.
You could barely focus on kissing her back with the way her fingers were deepening inside you. You so desperately wanted to keep up, and you loved the feeling of her plush red lips on yours. The way she tasted only made you crave more; cherry and scotch, it was as addicting as it was sexy. She moved with incredible expertise, knowing how to get you breathless with a lick of her tongue against yours. You could feel her smirk against your mouth when you struggled to keep up with her hungry kisses, instead letting out breathy moans into her mouth. Natasha continued exploring your mouth, growing wetter at the sight of the strings of your mixed saliva connecting your mouths.
She continued her thrusts, adding another finger as her thumb rubbed against your clit, only causing more sounds to escape your mouth. Just as you felt yourself clench around her fingers and tighten your fists as your hips rode against her, she pulled them out, eliciting another whine at the loss. Releasing her hand drenched in your juices and sliding it into your mouth. You were forced to open wide as she commanded.
"Shut up and suck," you did exactly that, running your tongue through her manicured digits and tasting yourself around her. You loved the way her eyes were devouring you, as if she was about to rip you apart on the spot.
She moved to grab your wrist, moving your hand to let you feel her packing through the crotch of her pants as you began stroking her through the fabric. Your thighs clenching at the thought of how big it was. "You want my cock, printsessa, huh? Wanna get it all nice and wet for your pussy?"
You didn't waste a second to respond, desperately letting out a "Yes, mommy, please."
She grinned at your eagerness, motioning her head to the floor in front of her again and saying, "On your knees, krasivaya devushka." You obeyed, dropping to the carpet beneath you once again and placing your hands neatly flat onto your lap.
She watched you like a hawk before rising to her feet, towering over you before unbuckling her belt in front of your face. She pulled the belt from its loops and circled to your back, pulling your arms from in front of you and locking them together in her belt against your back. The position only brought your breasts up further against your tight outfit, displaying them in front of your body. Natasha moved in front of you once again, enjoying the sight but still insatiably wanting more.
"Color, my love."
"Green, mommy."
She smiled before kissing your cheek. After a pause she moved her hand to grab her drink once again, taking a sip before deliberately extending her arm out and pouring it into your cleavage, feeling the cold liquid roll through your body and onto your stomach as your mouth drew out a gasp.
"Oh my, I'm so clumsy, dove. Let mommy help you with that." Natasha feigned with faux innocence as she bent her body down to your level, eyeing your shiny chest and immediately ripping apart the blouse effortlessly with both of her hands. It left you in your matching white lace bra, presenting your breasts perfectly into Natasha's view. She groaned, moving her two hands to grope them above the fabric. You could only watch, immobile with your hands tied behind your back as she unclipped your bra and let it fall down your arms. Your heart raced against your chest as she moved to the drink once again, dropping the cold liquid all over your bare chest as inhaled sharply, feeling the cold sensation run down your body. Natasha only stared further, wanting this picture of you to last in her mind forever. She opted for the next best thing, reaching for her phone on the desk and angling it to get you into view. She snapped a photo of you, knowing she would be using it for later purposes and hoped she would have enough for an album soon, she would make sure of it. She couldn't help herself and soon enough, began sliding her tongue up against your stomach and around your breasts, palming the opposite one and pinching around your nipples. She sucked each of them, humming at the taste of scotch tainting your skin as your arousal grew as you watched her worship you.
After enough teasing, she moved to drop her pants in front of you, revealing the large red strap on teasing your face. She shoved two fingers into your mouth again, coating them in your saliva before she gripped your cheeks open and tilted your face up to her. "Swallow." She directed as she leaned down to drop a ball of her saliva into your mouth before kissing it. She hummed against your face and continued to stand up straight in front of you, pushing the strap into your face.
"Good girl, and you know what good girls get?"
You shook your head, awaiting her response before she continued and began playing with your nipples, "they get to suck on Mommy's cock, you want that, baby, don't you?"
"Yes, mommy, please." You whimpered from underneath her, fighting the urge to rub your heat against the floor.
She pinched down extra hard on your breasts, tugging at the tip and taking the opportunity to shove herself down your throat when you opened it to moan. You internally thanked yourself for your lack of a gag reflex, adjusting to her size quickly as you let her continue. She picked up her pace, both her hands traveling to tug onto your hair and keep you firmly thrusting back and forth on her appendage. Your cheeks hollowed against the toy, swallowing whole to please her.
"That's right, baby, sucking my cock like a good slut. You're such a pretty girl, aren't you, my pretty little girl." Natasha moaned out between her rough thrusts.
Soon she released you, a string of your saliva connecting to tip of her cock and tears brimming your eyes when she pulled your hair back to move your mouth off of her. "What a mess you are. I bet that pussy's just as much of a mess, huh? Why don't we check. Stand up, slut."
You gathered your breath and brought yourself to feet, struggling slightly as your thighs rubbed together and your hands still remained tied behind your back. Natasha smirked at your appearance, chest open at her mercy and plaid in a skirt with suspenders connected to your white stockings.
You were soaked, you knew it, too. You could feel your wetness roll down your thigh and feel it press against your panties. You'd do anything to relieve yourself, but you were completely at Natasha's will.
"Oh, I'll never get tired of this. Maybe I'll make you walk around the house like this. Put on some panties with a vibrator in it and watch you tremble while you do your chores. You'd like that wouldn't you, pretty girl." She teased, her hands caressing your backside before delivering a smack to your ass. You jumped in surprise, squealing before answering her. "Mmph! Mhm! Anything to please you, mommy."
She groaned into your ear, feeling her body ghost over your back as her hands massaged your bottom. After moving to face you once again, her hands never resisting the chance to grope your boobs, she moved her hand down your core. Rubbing the fabric against your cunt as her palm made contact with your clit, making you jerk forward and whimper in pleasure. She released her hand from you, removing your skirt and moving to slide her hand down your stomach and to the top of your panties. She followed the pattern of the lace before hooking her fingers and dropping them to the floor. You stepped out of them and felt yourself being pushed down onto the desk, bending over and wondering when she had cleared it for you. You turned your head to the side, looking down and noticing the mess of papers on the floor from cleaning off her desk. You wondered if you would still be responsible for cleaning it.
Her nails pressed into the curve of your back, pushing you down against the cold wooden desk. Her hands found her way back to your bare bottom, sliding down to smack it once again. You screamed in surprise, knowing it had been harder than the last.
"If you can't keep that pretty little mouth of yours closed, I'm gonna have to do something about it." She vocalized above you.
"I'm sorry, mommy, I'll be good."
"You will be, princess. Now, look at what we have here, such a pretty little pussy. Can't wait to bury myself inside you, baby. Gonna fuck you like the whore you are." Natasha groaned at the thought, enjoying the whimpering mess you were bent over her desk. She dropped to her knees behind you, running her tongue up your thigh and following the trail of your slick until she reached the spot you needed most.
You let out a sob in relief, moving back to grind against her tongue and the way it pressed flat against your heat. She continued her movements, teasing your folds before shoving her tongue inside of you. Once she began to play with your clit, you screamed in pleasure, but soon whined once she retracted her mouth. It wasn't soon before she appeared in front of your eyes with your white lace panties in hand.
"I told you to be quiet, slut. Now mommy's gonna have to do something about that." She scolded before rolling your drenched panties into a ball and into your mouth, gagging you. She caressed your face gently as she smiled down at you, brushing loose strands of hair from your face before moving behind you once again. She pulled your hair, lifting your body flush against hers. "Now, kroshka, I'm gonna play with your pretty little pussy and if you can be a good girl, I'll let you come. But if you can't keep those panties in your mouth, I'll be punishing you tonight. Color."
"Green." You let out, muffled by the fabric occupying your mouth. She flipped your body to face her, using her muscled arms to lift your hips onto her desk and manhandling you. She forced your legs apart, letting cool air hit your bare bottom and drop your wetness onto her desk. Natasha loved the sight of your cunt glistening in front of her. You placed your palms on the surface behind you to sturdy yourself, but once your eyes widened at the vibrator Natasha had in her hand, you weren't sure you'd be able to hold yourself together. She laughed at your reaction, moving her hands to your breasts again and stroking over your nipples.
Catching you off guard, she immediately pressed the vibrator down to your core, buzzing against you and having you scream in pleasure against your gag. She immediately began rubbing it through your folds, teasing you and ignoring the only spot you truly desired. You wailed against her, pushing yourself further onto the machine before she slapped your thigh.
"Naughty girl, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you. Stay still, or your wrists won't be the only thing that's tied." She ordered, pressing further against your cunt and clutching at your nipples.
She took mercy on you, moving the vibrator onto your clit and enjoying your reaction as you moaned in pleasure on top of her. Your head was thrown back, and your eyes rolled to back of your head once she began fucking you with two fingers. You could hear the obscene noises coming from your core as she thrusted into you, even louder were the groans and whimpers escaping your throat, only to be muffled by the gag.
"You hear that? You're so wet against my fingers, can't imagine how you're gonna sound taking my cock, slut." She continued to curl her fingers against you, moving the vibrator against your clit painfully. You could feel yourself reaching the edge, bucking your hips into her movements and whining against the device.
"You wanna cum, pretty girl?" You nodded frantically above her, practically riding her fingers as the sensation on your heat grew stronger.
"Cum all over my fingers. Now." She demanded, adding a third finger. You did just that, biting down on your gag before becoming a whining mess. Covered in your own slick as the sensation washed over you while Natasha kept her pace. Your thighs were trembling on top of the desk when you let out a final cry, collapsing against her.
She halted her movements and grazed her hand over your face as she pulled your panties out of your mouth. Sweat was trembling down your body as she began kissing your face. You struggled to keep your eyes open to watch her suck each of the fingers she had fucked you with. You could taste yourself on her tongue as she connected your mouths, dominating you in record time. Your breath hitched when her hands and lips began to roam all over your body. Tweaking with your nipples in one hand while she sucked the other.
Soon the toy between her legs found its way between your folds, sliding itself against your sensitive cunt and becoming coated in your cum. It wasn't long before you were dripping again, despite barely coming down from your orgasm.
"Is my printsessa ready for my cock?" She taunted, continuing to grind her hips into your center. You gasped as the toy slid across your clit, attempting to thrash away from the feeling but Natasha's hand on your leg kept you still as she released a dark chuckle.
You gathered your thoughts, responding to her before you received punishment. "Yes, mommy. Please."
"Aw, my pretty girl can do better than that. Beg me, slut."
You writhed on top of her, letting the moans fall effortlessly from your throat as you rolled your hips on her length. Natasha noticed you getting lost in enjoyment before she moved her cock away from you and slapped it against your cunt. "Answer me."
You struggled to get your words out, growing frustrated you shouted, "P-Please, fuck me! Need you inside of me, I'll be a good girl. Please just fuck me, mommy! Use me!"
She grinned, beaming at your desperation and wasted no time before lining her tip and inserting herself into your core. The moan you let out was the loudest yet, your head was thrown back in pleasure and mouth left open as she plunged herself further into you.
"Oh my- fuck. Nat, you're so big."
Her head snapped up to your face, you hadn't noticed your slip-up but once she gave you no warning and slammed her entire length into your pussy, you could only scream in satisfaction. Natasha roughly picked your body up from the desk, twisting you and shoving your head down to bend over once again. Her cock never escaping your pussy, she began relentlessly thrusting into you, her hands reaching in front of her to grab your hair.
"That's not my name, naughty girl." She scowled, her hand coming down to smack your bottom repeatedly while you flailed beneath her.
"S-sorry, mommy! Please, harder, you feel so good." You cried between her thrusts. You didn't think it was possible for Natasha to quicken her pace, but she began pushing in and out of you rapidly, the only sounds filling the room were her grunts, the embarrassing squelch of your pussy, and sound of her skin flapping against yours when she bottomed out at each thrust.
"Such a dirty girl, taking mommy's cock so well. This pussy was made for me, wasn't it, baby." She moaned on top of you, pulling your hair to bring your back flush against her body. Her hand moved to your bare stomach, gliding to clutch your breasts and pull at your nipples. You let your head fall back onto her shoulder, you could feel your knees trembling from beneath you. If it weren't for Natasha's sharp thrusts and hands holding your body, you're not sure you would be able to stand on your own.
Once her fingers found its way to your sensitive clit you couldn't take it anymore, between her rubbing circles on your clit and her relentless force on your cunt you felt yourself helplessly clenching and squirming around the toy.
"P-Please, mommy, can I c-come." You cried, your voice wavering between her movements.
"Come, baby, be a good girl for mommy." Natasha began focusing on pleasuring you, playing with your clit and reaching to tug on your nipples while she fucked you into your orgasm. Her hips continued ramming into you as your rode out your high, letting out noises you didn't know you were capable of making and screaming her name in a loud moan.
You slumped against her body, breathless and covered in cum, sweat, and alcohol. You turned your head to face Natasha tirelessly, she smiled against you and placed a kiss to your lips.
"My good little girl, you did so well, detka." You hummed at her praise, enjoying the feeling of her fingertips caressing your body while her strap was still buried inside you.
"Come on, baby, let's get you cleaned up."
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His Sweet Girl - Tony Stark
Summary ➣ Nestled between Tony's legs, and all you wanted was to just feel him.
Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader
Word Count ➣ 724 words
Warnings ➣ 18+ / Blindfolds / Daddy Kink / Oral Sex
Author's Notes ➣ A short drabble written for my friend @mrshottiefinder on Instagram, written in an barely hour and not proofread. Comments + reblogs are highly appreciated to support more of my sleep-deprived ramblings, enjoy <3
You were snugly nestled between Tony’s legs, the warmth of his body enveloping you. The plush carpet beneath your knees cushioned your weight as you leaned onto him. His deft fingers traced patterns through your hair, smooth and comforting. You closed your eyes and let out a content sigh, feeling completely at ease in his embrace.
The space between you and him feels simultaneously intimate and vast. His body radiates heat, and you can feel every inch of it as he stands so close to you. Your longing to feel his skin against yours is palpable, hindered only by the thin barrier of his dress-pants. The scent of Tony’s cologne filled your nose, a blend of musk and spice that was just uniquely him.
Tony was still dressed in his alpine suit. His tie, neatly fastened in a knot around his neck. The contrast of his crisp, tailored appearance against your barely-there attire was always a turn-on for you. You kneeled before him in nothing but a skimpy black dress, which left almost nothing to the imagination and his favourite pair of heels, feeling both exposed and empowered by his gaze.
The warmth of his touch radiated through your entire body, causing you to melt into his fingers even more. Every breath he took seemed to fill the room with an intoxicating scent that made your head spin.
"Such a good girl," Tony cooed in a deep, seductive tone as he continued to play with your hair, he’d always enjoyed toying with it, he did pay for it anyways.
“How about you play with daddy for a bit, hm? I know you want to." Behind his soft, coordinated actions, you could sense the desperation in his voice as he longed to feel you around him too.
With deliberate slowness, you ran your tongue along the zipper of his dress-pants, your tongue traced a slow, teasing path. Tony’s low groan was followed by a tightening grip on your hair, but you didn't stop.
You wanted to see how far you could push him. You teased at his fly, feeling the zipper with your teeth and tasting the metallic tang in your mouth. But you didn't mind the bitter taste; all you craved was to taste him.
Slowly, you used your teeth to unfasten his fly, all the while keeping your eyes glued onto his. It was a wordless game of seduction, fuelled by the intensity in his dark gaze meeting yours.
With haste, his boxers were pulled down, a stark contrast to your tender, tentative touch earlier. But you couldn't wait any longer; eagerly taking his half-hard cock in your adrenaline-fueled, trembling hands and giving it a few full strokes.
"Fuck, play with it, baby," Tony groaned as he relaxed into your touch, his legs no longer as constricting as they were before. You heard rustling as Tony fiddled to get his tie off, bringing it to your eyes and tying it behind your head, leaving you in near-darkness, completely at his mercy.
You felt his hands pulling at your hair once again as he guided your eager mouth towards his cock. Almost salivating as you took him into your mouth, the scent of his cologne mingled with the musk of sweat and sex, as well as the salty taste of his pre-cum. You gagged as you took him in with one swift motion, making obscene noises that undoubtedly turned him on as he let out a blissful sigh.
"Your mouth feels amazing wrapped around my cock," he moaned, one hand gripping your hair in a loose ponytail and the other around your neck, it wasn’t that constricting, but god it was sexy as fuck.
As Tony thrusted into your throat, your lipstick smudged around your cheek and his cock. His movements started slow and cautious as he whispered gentle praises and encouragements, but soon they became frantic and desperate, a clear sign of his impending orgasm.
"Oh god—shit! 'm gonna cum for you, baby!" Tony moaned as he shoved himself deep into the back of your throat. Tears were now streaming freely down your face, mixing in with your once-pristine makeup, staining his expensive tie; but you didn't care anymore. You moaned as you felt his warm cum running down your throat, only intensifying the pleasure for you.
As Tony withdrew, your body was immediately scooped up, your chest pressed onto his firm, muscular torso, the soft pulse of his reactor warming your body as his hands returning to stroke your hair. The tie was discarded without a second thought, finding its place on the floor. His soft, loving gaze meeting yours.
"My sweet girl," Tony smirked, his lips claiming yours.
⎊ back to masterlist
#marvel#tony stark#rdj#iron man#robert downey jr#robert downey jr imagine#mcu#avengers#tony stark smut#tony stark x reader#robert downey jr icons#robertdowneyjr#the avengers#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic#avengers au#tony stark fluff#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark imagine#marvel cinematic universe#pepper potts#tony stark fanfic#iron man fanfic
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The Red Dress [Avenger! Loki x Fem. Reader]
Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection
A link to my Masterlist is HERE
Summary: (5) It's a big night for the team, and your outfit of choice makes quite the impression on one god in particular.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Hostility. Language. Jealously. Humour. Smuttish. Sexual tension. (w/c 3.7k)
Loki had been back from his latest mission for a whole week, and you were counting the days until he left again.
It was the night of the annual Avenger’s shareholder party, the most important corporate night of the year. Mandatory attendance. A month and three days had passed since what you had come to term ‘the incidents’.
Not that you were counting, of course.
Memories of Loki’s dexterous hands roaming your body haunted you. How he made the world around you fade to darkness beneath his animalistic moans was still annoyingly clear as day, even in the dead of night.
Particularly in the dead of night.
It was nothing. At least, that’s what you told yourself as a resplendent Loki Laufeyson descended the staircase to the party with a spring in every conceited step.
You smoothed a hand down the bodice of your red dress, the skater pleats of the silk skirt grazing your bare thighs.
He was wearing some sort of tight tunic tonight, a mix of Asgardian and Earth fashion that could only have come from one of Stark’s legendary tailors.
His flowing black hair was combed back, falling in an effortless train behind his shoulders. A familiar gold crescent adorned the material snug around his chest, the high collar straight against his devastatingly jawline.
He wants everyone to know who he is, smug bastard, you thought venomously as you imagined how the cool metal of his sacred symbol over his heart would feel against your ass while you sat on his face. Because of course he does.
The straight tunic brushed his thighs, a longer flap of material hanging teasingly over his manhood.
Wise decision, Tony; you thought, remembering the ferociously primal stir his enormous bulge caused at the last event. Matte leather clung to his muscled legs, running down into formal knee high boots that made you want to scream.
All black. Or is it dark green, you wondered; hungry eyes hovering on the creases appearing at his thighs as he gracefully made his way down the stairs alone.
The whole thing was a blip, you told yourself. A moment of madness. Or two.
If anything, you never thought about it at all.
Seeing him swagger nonchalantly around the Tower with that token arrogance clinging to him like latex was unbearable, though. His whole demeanour, the haughty derision toward everyone and everything simmering beneath that perfect skin, brewing the next sarcastic quip. Unbearable.
And what was even more unbearable was that the shithead was ignoring you.
How many times had you grimaced at the ridiculous little cough of condescension that floated over your shoulder in the kitchen before he released a tepid barb? Too many, you thought; as your eyes scanned his proud features radiant in the reflections from the mirrorball.
It was one of the many things you loathed about him. And yet now you finally had your wish that it would cease...somehow, it smarted.
Like he was winning.
You’d fallen into the habit of talking a little louder in his vicinity when he graced the common rooms with his austere presence, saving your best lines for when he was close and could hear the rampant mirth you provoked.
That he would see the scintillating hilarity he's missing by being a complete dick, you thought; running your eyes up his endless legs as he reached the bottom of the stairs, his eyes scanning the pulsing crowd with a self-assured smirk.
Damn, he looks fucking good tonight, though you conceded reluctantly; grateful that the sway of your flouncy dress hid a slight involuntary thrust of your hips.
He raised his chin, looking left and right; a glazed stare floating right past you. If you were honest, you had hoped that the perfectly fitted dress and the cleavage contained therein would lure him to you; drive him mad with longing or some damn thing. At least long enough to give him a taste of his own medicine.
As he turned away, you realised that your cleavage would just as easily open the doors to Stark’s vault.
And really, it wasn’t like you cared.
Irritation marinated as Nat handed you a drink, your fingers absent-mindedly clasping the stem of the glass. She chattered over the music as you took a mental picture of Loki’s muscular body vacuum-packed into that ridiculous outfit to masturbate over later in the bath. Yes, you thought; your eyes crawling over his endless limbs as he greeted a flustered Rogers with a sarcastic bow. That will do nicely.
“-hey, are you listening?” Nat said, in that peculiarly penetrating tone she saved for when she knew you were absolutely not listening.
Your head tilted towards her with a strained smile, blinking several times. “Got distracted, sorry.” you said innocently.
She nodded, taking a sip of her wine while observing the party’s latest arrival.
Nat licked the faint stain of red from her upper lip. “You mean David Gandy over there?” she said, nudging her head towards Loki. You chuckled, an infectious giggle from Nat following.
“I wonder what will give up first” she postured, folding her elegant arms. “Thor’s table manners or Loki’s new threads. He’s really poured in there, huh?”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Loki’s manners more like.” you murmured to yourself, seeing Nat’s brow furrow. “Sorry, what was it you were saying before?”
Her face softened, the placid expression returning. “Stark needs you on the bar.”
“On the bar? You’re kidding me.” you whined, letting out an exasperated sigh. “How’s it going to look to the shareholders when one of the bloody team is on shaker-duty?”
“Like good PR” she winked, reaching out and tugging down the neckline of your red dress to expose a tad more cleavage. “And no one makes a Martian Hard On like you, babe.”
You sighed again, hating that she was right. “Fine.” you grimaced, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Come and talk to me later. If I get stuck with all the handsy drunk ones I’ll be mad.” you said, seeing her eyes light up at your words. “Those are my favourite.” she winked.
You made your apologies to those you cut across, dodging photographer’s flashes as they documented the party.
“-Sorry!” you yelped, colliding with an unexpected wall of muscle. Stepping back, your face fell as Loki spun on his heels; looking down at you through half-lidded eyes.
They narrowed, running appraisingly over your body, his brows knitted in a strange disapproval.
“How did you get over here so fast?” you muttered, straightening as one of his long fingers re-adjusted a strap of your dress which had succumbed to the collision.
“Keeping tabs on me, are we? I’m flattered.” he hummed, winding his arm around the shoulder of a mysterious smiling woman.
You vaguely remembered seeing her face on the laminated VIP lists Steve had handed out at the briefing. Now you sort of wished you had read it.
“Lead the way, barkeep.” Loki smirked, making you roll your eyes. You opened the hatch with a rough churning in your stomach. I did not join the Avengers for this bullshit, you thought as you grabbed the cocktail shaker from the back-shelf.
Loki raised the woman’s hand, helping her perch on the barstool before setting himself down.
You knew his thick thighs would be spread invitingly against the leather seat, the modestly flap casually set askew to accentuate the peek of the ever-present bulge in his always-just-a-little-too-tight trousers.
He placed one forearm on the bar, eyes flickering upward to the side seductively in a way you could only assume was calculated. God, he looked so fucking-
“What can I get you?” you said sharply, a manufactured smile stretched across your lips as a stressed-out looking Tony walked by, giving you a grateful nod.
Loki pursed his lips in a theatrical ponder. “What do you feel like, darling?” he purred, turning to the woman by his side.
She giggled, her cheeks turning pink as his bicep shifted beneath the tight tunic; clearly resting a hand on her leg. By day, she would be one of the most influential financiers in the country. But tonight, it seemed she was an eighteen year old groupie again.
“Does she do cocktails?” the woman said coquettishly to Loki, her eyes not leaving his as he bit his lip. His tongue flicked out, running over his cupid’s bow. God, he was really laying it on thick.
“She does.” he said thoughtfully, turning toward you with a knowing look. “And she has quite the speciality...remind me, what’s the name?”
You sighed, the inevitability of his insider knowledge making you want to ram a cocktail stick in his eye.
“A ‘Martian Hard On’.” you said through gritted teeth, seeing the corner of Loki’s mouth twitch.
“And how does one make this frankly delicious sounding concoction?” he purred, leaning closer over the bar with feigned interest.
“It’s not that good actually. Bit overrated.” you sniffed, wiping the damp cloth across the marble.
Loki frowned.
“I’ll just have Sex on the Beach.” the woman quipped, before gasping dramatically. “I mean the cocktail, not actual sex on the beach…” she drawled with faux-innocence, breaking out in a high-pitched laugh that made your teeth hurt.
You rolled your eyes again, turning to the rows of bottles on the mirrored shelves. In the reflection, you saw Loki lean towards her, the razor-straight line of his jaw twitching as he whispered in her ear.
The high collar skirted the angle as he spoke, black slicing against the fairness of his skin. A token flash of his cheekbones that kept you awake at night made your stomach flip as the woman gasped, before giggling again.
“Oh you are a bad man, Loki Laufeyson. Tony said I should watch out for you, and he was right.”
She pushed his shoulder flirtatiously, watching Loki’s face crease in mock-hurt as he pressed a hand to his chest. His smile was uncharacteristically warm, twinkling eyes running over her admittedly pretty features like she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Hell, maybe she was.
It’s just his job for the night, you thought, re-considering the liberal measure of peach schnapps you had poured for the woman now cackling at one of Loki’s over-inflated stories. He’s not actually going to-
“Anything to report?” a rasping whisper floated over your shoulder, making you jump.
“Christ, Steve…” you mumbled, before sliding the sloppily put together cocktail across the marble towards Loki and the woman. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Loki hummed condescendingly in your direction, passing the glass to his charge with a wink.
“I’m just going to the restroom.” the woman said coyly after taking a sip, tugging at the stiff collar of Loki’s tunic. She leant closer, her lips grazing the smooth skin of his cheek.
You could see her hand sliding up his thigh, your eyes widening as her palm cupped the bulge in his tight trousers. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Not even if I could, Madam...” Loki said coyly, making you choke back a reluctant laugh as Steve grimaced. The three of you watched the woman slink away, a prominent swing in her step.
“That’s Tony’s biggest shareholder, Laufeyson. Don’t fudge it up.” Rogers spat when she was out of earshot, the vein in his temple twitching alarmingly.
“I can assure you Rogers, I will not be fudging anything.” Loki drawled, inspecting his fingernails as his features softened to a knowing smile. “Unless she asks me to, of course.”
Steve’s cheeks flushed the same colour as his salmon shirt. “Now listen here, Laufeyson.” he hissed, “No funny business. You just need to show her a good time. Tell her a few jokes.” He raised a hand as Loki opened his mouth with a smart comment on the tip of his tongue. “PG jokes, thank you very much.”
“He can handle it Steve” you sighed absent-mindedly, noticing a splash of something on the pleat of your dress. You frowned, looking up at them. “Just, drop it. She’ll be fine, she’s all over him.”
Rogers eyebrow cocked, his gaze running suspiciously between you and Loki as he patted his notebook against one soft palm. “So are you two...pals, now?” he said sceptically, noting the twitch of your eye as he spoke.
“-Oh yes.” Loki drawled, throwing Steve a dazzlingly forced smile. “She’s warmed to me at last it seems. I did some charity work for her. Didn’t I, Agent?”
You scowled, diligently polishing one of the ostentatious cocktail glasses Stark only brought out on very special occasions.
“Charity work, huh?” Steve said, his eyebrows rising towards the god. “That’s spiff of you, Laufeyson. I’ll make a note for your review that you’re really inserting yourself into team culture.”
“Oh yes. I’m all about inserting myself deep into the culture now, Rogers.” Loki murmured. “It was quite a desperate situation, really. Tragic, one might say. I simply couldn’t stand by and do nothing while the poor thing suffered.”
You inhaled some of your own spit with a cough, spluttering with masked indignation. Loki’s face creased in faux-concern, leaning forward on the bar.
“Are you alright, friend?” he murmured, a devilish smile tweaking his lips. Anger flushed through your blood, heat rising in your cheeks as you tried to stay calm.
Charity. He’s got some fucking nerve, you thought, dabbing your mouth subtly with a napkin.
Steve nodded briskly, scanning the room before giving someone a cheery wave and pushing away.
You looked at Loki, his sanctimonious shit-eating grin doing nothing to dampen the conflicted whirl of thoughts in your mind. The music faded behind the thump of blood in your ears as Loki took sip of his manufactured-date’s drink.
You were suddenly parched.
The ridges of your tongue felt uncomfortable against the roof of your mouth. His cheekbones hollowed as he sucked at the edge of the glass, setting it down before licking his bottom lip with a low moan. The visceral feeling of Loki’s teeth sinking into the soft skin of your shoulder shuddered through you, seeing his eyes glint in the dim party lights, relishing your awkward reaction.
“Delicious.” he growled, running his eyes down to your cleavage and back to your face. “Shame about the dress, though. A bit too garish for you, Agent. A bit too...attention-seeking, perhaps.”
“You’re ridiculous.” you sniffed haughtily, clasping the edges of the bar with straight arms. Your shoulders flexed, pushing your breasts up. “And you of all people can’t lecture me about seeking attention...which is not what this is, so I don’t know why you-”
“Oh?” Loki cut in. He leant forward, beckoning you with a double flick of one thick fingertip. “Well it seems that whether you want it or not...you have it.”
There was a pause. You could feel your traitorous pussy sliding against your thin panties, his unrelenting smarm making you want to pull him toward you and shut him up in the only way that seemed to work.
Loki sipped the cocktail again, nudging his head subtly towards the seating area to the side of the bar.
You looked over, seeing Thor displayed uncomfortably on the sofa.
He was leaning forward, one meaty elbow resting on his knee with the fist propped beneath his chin. His thighs were spread wide, his eyes twitching with murderous intensity as he stared at you like dinner.
“He’s flirting with you.” Loki purred, a smile tugging at his lips.
You snorted, feeling your cheeks heat. “He is not. I don’t know what he’s doing but it’s not that.” you garbled, wiping the bar with a damp cloth.
A fizzing knot grew in your belly as Loki’s fingers drummed the marble between you nonchalantly. “In Asgard, we have very particular customs around colours, Agent. Are you aware?”
You huffed, hoping that the clawing in your stomach would pass.
“By wearing that misguided little sliver of crimson silk, you have aroused some very deep-seated urges within my brother that you wish to bed him tonight. To be ridden like a fine Asgardian mare. A fabled red flag to a particularly lacklustre bull, one might say.”
You looked again at Thor, now massaging his thigh; his darkened gaze undressing you. He bit his lip, one eye closing in a slow, calculated wink. “Oh god…” you murmured dryly.
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Agent. He’s not very good, I’m afraid. Especially considering your recently elevated standards.”
You snorted. “I find it hard to believe that you guys are used to women traipsing around in your ‘colours’ waiting for their chance to shag you.” you hissed, throwing Thor a sideways glance. “I am not going to sleep with him. That’s absurd.”
Loki looked at you silently, a closed smile stretching across his placid face before he spoke.
“Oh, believe it Agent. We Asgardian princes never wanted for company. Even if my brother was a little less...discerning.”
He smirked, enjoying every second of your growing discomfort. “And as for your intentions with him tonight, I recommend you alert him to your little misunderstanding sooner rather than later.”
“And what about your little ‘misunderstanding’? You know she basically thinks you’re some kind of superpowered gigalo, right?” you sneered, seeing Loki’s eyebrows rise.
He chuckled, shaking his head just as the woman surfaced from the throng of the crowd. She had pulled the neckline down, and you could have sworn that when she had left she had been wearing pantyhose beneath that party dress.
“Who says I’m not, Agent?” he whispered covertly, pushing himself off the barstool as he leant closer. His cologne filled your nostrils, the musky tang making your mouth water. “You of all people know I can be anything she desires.”
He tore his hardened gaze from your eyes to the beaming woman with an exaggerated smile. “Amanda, darling. Let’s dance, shall we?” he announced, peeling his long limbs from the barstool.
Amanda, you scoffed with a grimace as she melted willingly into his lean body.
The glass you had picked up became the most interesting thing in the room as you tried to maintain an air of indifference, polishing it casually. You could feel Thor’s eyes burning into you as you stared at the crystal held between your fingertips. The synapses of your brain were fizzing, the temptation to look up to the dancefloor...irresistible.
Fuck, you thought; feeling your eyes rising to the busy centre of the room. The crowd pulsed beneath the lights from the mirrorball over the sound of a remixed version of Rasputin.
In that suit, his body was endless. The wide rim boots cut in solid angles at his knees, the hard meat of his thighs rising to the hem of the tunic flexing visibly through the fabric. His hand slid over the curves of her hips, ghosting her ass before pulling the keening woman tight to his broad chest.
Your eyes flickered to Rogers lurking in the shadows watching them. Arms crossed, brow furrowed in disapproval.
Loki’s outfit clung like a luxurious second skin, every inch reacting to the movement of his limbs as he gracefully swayed her body to his.
Amanda’s fingers ran up his torso, bumping over the curve of Asgardian gold. She tucked a long strand of hair behind his ear, her eyes smouldering with singular intent to fuck this heavenly creature in whose arms she somehow found herself tonight.
But she doesn’t know him like I do, you thought with a grimace. She doesn’t know what he’s really like-
Loki swung her gracefully outward, pulling her back to him with a timed thrust of his muscular hips; bucking gently as her hand travelled lower.
The stem of the elegant martini glass in your grip snapped.
Primitive jealousy like you had never known surged through your blood like napalm, a ferocious shiver rolling across every nerve making your hair stand on end. The audacity of the god cut deep as you smacked the towel to the marble bar, making straight for the hatch.
White noise filled your ears as you made your way over to the seating area, a flustered looking Thor standing to attention as you approached.
Your fingers scraped at his shirt, managing to snag an inch of material not plastered to his frame. He jerked forward, the rough stubble of his cheek scratching against your skin. “Dance with me.” you purred into his ear, feeling his huge frame shudder.
He growled, striding forward and tugging you roughly to the dance-floor. The shards of light from the mirrorball stung your eyes as Thor whipped you into his bulging arms, the cotton of his shirt straining dangerously against freakishly large biceps.
Oh god, you thought as the room spun. You were vaguely aware of his large hands slipping down your waist, pulling you toward him with a firm tug.
“My lady, you tease too brazenly. For too long I have coveted this.” he grunted, his hair scratching your eyes as he began to gyrate in time with Boney M.
“Wha-what?” you squeaked, thinking of the years you’d spent side by side with not a hint of the heated desire seeping from him as he wound his imposing body around yours.
“That dress…my colours” he smouldered, his eyes darkened with lust, “...it has lit a fire within me. I must have you.”
One hand slid over your lower back, grasping the folded material of the red silk skirt. He growled again, tightening his fist; burying his face in your neck as he swayed deeper against your frame.
Thor’s hot breath skated over the place his brother had made his mark the month prior, the pale bruise still visible in the harsh light of day.
“Thor…” you gasped breathlessly, pushing a palm against his chest as one belonging to another roughly smacked him on the shoulder, casting him backward.
You gasped as Loki shoved you briskly to the side, stepping toward the blonde.
“Ordinances of the Colours do not apply in this realm, brother.” Loki snarled, baring his teeth. The disco lights glinted on the gold adorning his suit; his fierce eyes flashing in confrontation. Your pussy tightened, seeing Loki’s fists clench by his sides.
“Ordinances or not, brother...she claimed me as hers for this dance.” Thor postured, squaring up to the dark-god with a solitary step forward. “And this night, I believe.” He added, suggestively. “Ask her.”
Loki shot you a look that would kill the weak. You swallowed, fighting the feeling of your knees attempting to buckle. “It’s true.” you said, much more calmly than you expected, your stomach fizzing. “I did. The dance, anyway.”
Loki rolled his eyes. “Aren’t they missing you on the bar, Agent?” he spat, gesturing to the small queue of people hanging against the counter-top expectantly. It was your turn to roll your eyes, walking past him with a shove of your shoulder. It hurt.
Fucking Laufeyson and his fucking ego- you thought furiously, hearing the brothers bicker theatrically behind you. Roger’s frustrated drawl soon intervened between them as you stared resolutely ahead on your path. Who the hell does he think he-
Suddenly you were tugged roughly to the side. The heels you wore skated over the smooth floor as you careened into the dark hall passageway away from the humming crowd and thumping music.
Long fingers clasped over your parted lips, your back thudding against the nearest wall as Loki loomed above you; resplendent and menacing in the gloom.
The skintight tunic pressed against your cleavage, his hardening cock dragging slowly upward against your body with formidable intent.
The god’s bottomless eyes were dark liquid as he stared down at you, hair falling in curled tendrils against your cheek. A muscle in his clenched jaw bobbed as he wet his lips.
“Lead me to your rooms, Agent.” he enunciated quietly, his chest heaving with slow, heavy breaths. “Immediately.”
Continued in The Red Dress: Ruined (w/c 2.5k)
Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection
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@lokischambermaid @lady-rose-moon @gigglingtigger @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbsblr @xorpsbane @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @lunarnights95 @vbecker10 @skymoonandstardust @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @ladylovesloki @marygoddessofmischie @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokisgirll @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @peachyymallows @soldeloki @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @joyful-enchantress
#hostile f*cks collection#loki x reader#loki laufeyson#loki laufeyson fanfic#loki fanfiction#lokismut#loki x you#loki x female reader#loki odinson#loki god of mischief#loki marvel#loki au#loki laufeyson x reader#loki x fem!reader#loki x f!reader#loki imagine#loki fic
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hi i was wondering if you could do aew boys reacting to you getting injured this is my first request. i love you storys🩷
OF COURSE SWEETHEART and thank you so much for the kind words
AEW Stars React to You Getting Injured:
Pairings: Hook X Reader, Eddie Kingston X Reader, Dante Martin X Reader, Ricky Starks X Reader, MJF X Reader, Kenny Omega X Reader, Daniel Garcia X Reader
Word Count: 1.1K
Supreme Speaks: hiiiiii...sorry for the spam for the past couple of days (just wanna get these requests out and make room for more)...THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT AND LOVE. thank you to @aew190 for the request. also the reader is unspecified so gender neutral (tailor it to your liking). Please remember that you are loved and appreciated.
Warning: not proofread
Taglist: @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @aew190 @hookerforhook @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey
Backstory:
You were in a match (with an opponent of your choosing)
You were about to attempt a diving move (or signature move)
But then your opponent countered it; causing you to slip and hit your shoulder first extremely hard
You felt immediate pain and laid on the mat for a little bit as the ref checked on you
You decided to continue the match and you won, making the crowd cheer
Clutching your shoulder, you were able to walk yourself to the back where your boyfriend/best friend sat
Hook:
Man is worried; but it’s concerning to those around him
Like this man has not moved, blinked, nothing since you took that bump
Even though it wasn’t that bad of a bump, you dislocated your shoulder
He just kept looking at how you clutched your arm in pain
Hook lightly hugged your other side and whispered “As long as you’re okay, everything is fine.”
This man would be the best nurse; you never would have to lift a damn finger
Hook carries your bags, has all your favorite drinks and snacks in his bookbag, and never complains
Gives frequent updates to The Lads
“They lifted their arm today….to throw a pillow at me. But still, progress.”
Will help you gain your strength through workouts and therapy
Eddie Kingston:
Man is worried but he runs around like a chicken with his head cut off
Cussing everyone and they momma out, “Fuck you, fuck you, hi Ishii, and FUCK YOU CLAUDIO”
After figuring out the injury was not as bad as it could have been, Eddie immediately becomes that nurse that will do their job while complaining
You: Can you help me put this hoodie on?
Eddie: Oh my gawd, you are so needy….but yeah fo sure I gotchu
He doesn’t like to see you in pain; will distract you with old wrestling or him just going off about people
Despite him saying that he doesn’t like you or want to help you, he will never leave your side and will do anything to comfort you during this
(Man will tell jokes but never lies)
Will act like everything he does is no problem or it means nothing, but it does mean something to both you and him
Is secretly planning for revenge
Kenny Omega:
THIS SWEETHEART WOULD BE CRUSHED
His heart would literally fall apart as he realized what happened
Keeps watching the match to make sure nothing else happens
When you come backstage, he already talked to Tony about taking you off TV for a little bit
Gives you all the time and attention in the world
Wears your merch for support
Gets online to find a specialist for your injury
Will not leave your side; Kenny might actually move into your house temporarily to help out
“Why the hell is all your cups so damn high? This is not safe for a short injured demon like yourself.”
Kenny will spend all his days playing video games with you, helping you around the house, and getting you back in shape for the ring
All to make sure that you’re okay and safe
Daniel Garcia:
Okay; hear me out
Man would freak out and then once learning that your injury is not that severe, would turn up
I’m talking man would act like you’re not hurt and drag you to every social gathering he could
Shit might throw you a recovery party
“One club, another club, another club, brunch, another club.”
It’s his way of comforting you; as a person who was injured, he was deprived of socializing with others
He doesn’t want that for you; he wants you to recognize that just because of your injuries, doesn’t mean that you have to miss out on your friends
Will do anything if you ask him though
Daniel will also FaceTime you a lot so that you’re not missed throughout the locker room;
“Everyone say hi to Y/N, now everyone boo them cause they're not here.”
Ricky Starks:
Man is worried at first because he’s fought numerous injuries before
More or so worried about the aftermath of it for you; doesn’t want you to get left behind
Instantly thinks of ways for you to be on TV without being in the ring and pitches them on your behalf
Ricky: So then, Y/N interrupts them and is like “Hell No” like Brandi to Jade
TK: Ricky I-
Ricky: Wait your turn…..jackass
Is forever right beside you in case you need anything; doesn’t want you to feel alone
Will go with you to all your consultations and stuff, bring you all your favorite food and stuff
I also think Ricky would be the one to stop everything just to check on you; where it’s over the phone or in person
Also, if you have a cast or a brace, Ricky will bedazzle it in your sleep
Dante Martin:
THIS BABY
HE SUCH A BABY
As he is injured and his brother suffered from numerous injuries, he was instantly feeling bad for you
Lets you know that you are not alone
Sits backstage with you as The Lads got matches and storylines; talks about anything and nothing
I think (because of the fact Dante and I were born in the same year) Dante would definitely be cracking jokes about this
“At least we got each other during this. I got one leg and you got one arm, we’re practically one full person.”
Dude will do anything to make you smile;
Feels more content and happy with you beside him
Ya’ll are constantly pushing each other to go to physical therapy and recovery
if ya’ll weren’t dating beforehand, you definitely are now
MJF:
Instantly roasts you on Twitter
….Idk why you expected anything else…
Anyways, he would definitely take care of you by giving care and attention
While roasting you to your face; you are never safe from this man’s wrath
“You look like death…..NO YOU LIKE OPTIMUS PRIME WHEN HIS ARM GOT SLICED OFF AHAHA”
Will buy you unnecessary and extreme items for your recovery; but claims that he needs the state-of-the-art towel warmer (really it's for you)
ALSO the man will buy you a Burberry scarf and tell you it’s a fake, but it's actually real
I think he genuinely feels bad that you are injured and will try to make your life easier during this time in his own way
If he can’t be there for you, he’s bringing you on the road to keep an eye on you; will never leave you alone tbh
To others, Max just doesn’t really care for you but you and him both know that he’s trying his best and that’s all that matters
#aew#all elite wrestling#daniel garcia#aew imagine#eddie kingston#aew hook imagine#aew hook#all elite wrestling imagines#eddie kingston x reader#eddie kingston imagine#ricky starks imagine#ricky starks#ricky starks x reader#dante martin#dante martin imagine#mjf#mjf aew#mjf imagine#daniel garcia x reader#kenny omega#kenny omega imagine#kenny omega x reader
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His Girl Friday
Summary: At Tony Stark's forty-fourth birthday party, the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist and his longtime personal assistant finally address what's remained unspoken but secretly acknowledged between them for many, many years.
Pairings: Tony Stark X F!Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings/Disclaimers: None
A/N: Hi guys! This is my first time writing a Tony-centric fic and I had a lot of fun with it, so thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy!
His Girl Friday
May 29th, 2014
Avengers Tower, New York City
(Fanfiction Masterlist)
Being employed as Anthony Edward Stark’s personal assistant was a challenging and often times perilous job, and that was before he’d announced himself to the world as Iron Man. But (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was no ordinary personal assistant; she stood by the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist when he vowed to stop producing weapons at Stark Industries after being imprisoned by terrorists for three long months, she stuck with him when his secret illness and subsequent erratic behavior drove nearly everyone else away, and she flat-out refused to believe he’d been killed at the hands of the Mandarin. It was evident that Tony Stark was the closest thing she had to a best friend. Lately, however, she’d begun to notice a significant shift in her feelings towards her employer, feelings that definitely went beyond friendship and feelings that she suspected he was feeling as well; she tried her best to keep them at bay, fearful of ruining such a meaningful friendship and throwing away the only job she’d ever truly enjoyed on a baseless suspicion, and thankfully, there were always plenty of distractions to keep herself preoccupied with in her unique line of work.
From her place at the back of the room, (Y/N) scanned over the enormous checklist in her hands to see if she’d missed anything important; the guests were chatting, dancing and taking full advantage of the open bar while the DJ was playing all of Tony’s favorite songs in honor of his forty-forth birthday. All in all, not one of the worst birthday parties I’ve ever planned for him, she thought to herself, a reluctant smile playing on her lips as she recalled the disastrous thirty-ninth birthday party that resulted in the Malibu mansion’s near destruction at the hands of Tony and Rhodey. That particular birthday party was the reason why she’d initially been a little nervous at the prospect of the Avengers attending the soiree, but it only took a brief glance around the bustling common room to see that they were the perfect guests; Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson played pool with Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, while Bruce Banner hovered near the back of the enamored crowd of people that surrounded a slightly-inebriated Thor and listened to his enthusiastic re-tellings of the adventures he’d had on Asgard. Pepper and Dr. Helen Cho were seated at the bar and chatted over glasses of Chardonnay while Happy was hyper-focused on his phone, no doubt catching up on an episode of Downton Abbey. With an inward chuckle, the personal assistant returned her attention to her lengthy list of tasks as the classic rock music continued to play.
“Hey beautiful, how ‘bout a dance?”
“Sorry, but I’m worki-” (Y/N) looked up to see Tony Stark himself standing before her, looking as handsome as ever in his expertly tailored black tuxedo and flashing her his signature grin that never failed to make her heart skip a beat. “Hey, you. How’re you enjoying your birthday party?”
Tony tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged noncommittally. “It’s one of your better-executed extravaganzas, I will say, but it would absolutely skyrocket to the top if I could spend the rest of the evening with my favorite personal assistant.”
(Y/N) arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Tony, I’m your only personal assistant.”
“Exactly, which meant you get the title by default. Yay you!” The billionaire gave her a small applause and she simply heaved an exasperated but fond sigh at his typical theatrics. “C’mon, Girl Friday, you’ve been working your ass off all night and the Birthday Boy says that you should take a well-deserved break.” As his trademark smirk softened into a gentle smile, Tony took his hand out of his pocket and offered it to her in a clear invitation to join him. “Please?”
Although her heart was screaming at her to take his hand and allow him to whisk her into an evening of laughter and coy flirtations, the rational part of her knew that she had a job to complete and that anything more than a friendly conversation could jeopardize their platonic relationship. Masking her disappointment with a shrug and apologetic smile, (Y/N) shook her head and held up her checklist for him to see. “I’m sorry, Tony, but I still have so much to do; I’ve gotta do another check-in with Maria and the security team downstairs, make sure that the pastry chef brings out the cake on time, that the waiters serve the guests champagne at the right tempera-Tony!” She exclaimed when Tony’s hand shot out and snatched the checklist out of her grasp. “Anthony Edward Stark, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting rid of an obstacle,” Tony easily replied, holding the checklist above his head and snickering when she unsuccessfully attempted to snatch it back. “Seriously, Girl Friday, just one dance and I’ll let you get back to your boring planning. I’ll even avoid bugging you the rest of the night if it means I can spend a little time with one of my best friends.”
Tony’s rare sincerity softened (Y/N)’s heart, and she felt her resolve crumble as she stared into his gleaming brown eyes. “All right, one dance. Do you ever get tired with always getting your way?”
“Nope!” Tony happily popped the ‘p’ and tucked the checklist into the pocket of his tuxedo jacket before offering her his hand once again, and (Y/N) smiled to herself as the billionaire escorted her to the edge of the dance floor and whisked her into a slow dance to Bon Jovi’s ‘Bed of Roses.’ The warmth of his hand on the curve of her waist combined with the feel of his body brushing up against hers caused her heartbeat to quicken its pace, and she silently prayed that he wouldn’t notice the effect he had on her. “You know, I was being serious before. You’ve truly outdone yourself tonight, (Y/N), and can I just say that you look amazing?” Tony’s eyes briefly glanced down at her red chiffon evening gown and he gave her an appreciative nod. “Mm-hmm, hot-rod red is definitely your color. So, what’s your secret? How is it you can organize and schedule a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist’s entire life and look drop-dead gorgeous while doing it?”
(Y/N) chuckled in amusement, the skirt of her gown swirling around her legs as he twirled her in a circle. “We all have our own superpowers; you fight aliens and terrorists in a red and gold Nitinol suit, and I oversee the hectic life of the man inside the suit to the best of my abilities.”
“Not sure which is the more dangerous job, to be honest.” Tony smirked, expertly guiding her back into his arms and holding her slightly closer than he had before. “But if I could do that death-glare that you’ve perfected over the years, then that would sure make my job a helluva lot easier and people would think twice before messing with Iron Man.” (Y/N) arched a brow and in response, Tony snickered. “Yep, there’s the death-glare!”
“I hate to burst your bubble, but this death-glare is tailor-made for Tony Stark and Tony Stark alone,” (Y/N) replied with a wry smile, and the billionaire’s grin widened as she looked into his sparkling brown eyes. They danced together in a comfortable yet expectant silence, almost as if one was waiting for the other to speak first, but both remained quiet while the 80’s power ballad continued to play; it wasn’t until she noticed the way he was biting his lower lip – one of the few tell-tale signs that there was something weighing heavy on the billionaire’s mind – that (Y/N) finally mustered her courage to address him. “You got a lot of cool presents this year, not to mention hundreds of thousands of dollars in charitable donations gifted in your name. Not too shabby, huh?”
Tony shrugged and replied, “I’m a sucker for gifts and I’m beyond stoked that we’ve raised so much in donations, but…” His eyes briefly flicked downwards to focus on the fluttering movement of her chiffon skirt, suddenly appearing as anxious as (Y/N) felt. “Can we play a quick round of Hypothetical Hold’em?”
A nostalgic feeling washed over (Y/N) at the mention of their old game. Back in the more impulsive and less responsible days of Tony Stark, it had been an effective form of decision-making created out of the billionaire’s respect for her opinions and general advice; they hadn’t played very many rounds in the years since he announced to the world that he was Iron Man and while she was happy that he’d grown and matured so much over the years, a small part of her missed their little game. “I’m a little rusty but I think I’ve still got it. Shoot.”
“A guy I know, Walter, he’s got just about everything he could possibly want in life, except the only thing he really wants is something he can’t have. You see,” Tony expertly dipped her and her breath hitched at the sudden movement, their eyes connecting as he continued. “There’s this woman – let’s call her Hildy – and he’s been in love with her for a while. And Hildy, she’s goddamn fantastic: smart, kind, funny, gorgeous, the whole enchilada.”
Heart sinking into her stomach, (Y/N) mustered up a small smile to hide her pain while he slowly righted her. “Hildy sounds wonderful. So, what’s stopping this Walter guy from telling her how he feels?”
“A couple of things, actually.” He took a deep breath. “She’s not just one of his best friends, but…you see, she’s also his personal assistant.”
The din of the party faded away as (Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock at the billionaire’s candid words; if not for the seriousness written across Tony’s face and the longing gleam that had formed in his brown eyes while he stared into hers, she would’ve assumed that he was pulling her leg. But she knew him, knew him far better than almost anyone else in the world, and it was clear as day that he was speaking directly from the heart. “…Oh.”
Tony nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a tried and true attempt to hide behind a more lighthearted façade. “She’s taken such good care of him. He was a loose cannon for a long time…still is, in a way, but she’s gotten him through all the tough spots. He’s good friends with some ex-assassins, a super-soldier and a literal god, but she’s the strongest person he’s ever met and the only person he could ever imagine giving his heart to. But as much as he loves her, he’s not willing to roll the dice and risk losing her from his life forever; that’s why he…” Tony cast his gaze downwards and his hand gripped hers tight. “That’s why I never said anything before.”
“So, what changed?” She whispered as she slowly moved the hand that had been resting on his shoulder to press against the spot where his arc reactor once resided, feeling his rapid heartbeat and silently marveling at how perfectly it matched her own.
“Looking across the room and seeing you with your checklist; you’ve planned over a dozen successful birthday parties for me, but that didn’t stop you from treating tonight as if it was the first. It’s one of the thousand ways you show how much you care about me, and that’s what gave me the courage to walk to the back of the room and finally ask you for a dance.”
The booming opening chords of AC/DC’s ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ filled the room and while more guests took to the dance floor for the lively song, (Y/N) grabbed Tony’s hand and practically dragged him away from the crowd, not stopping until they were tucked away from any prying eyes in Captain Rogers’ nearby office. When she closed the door behind them and turned around, she was met with an apprehensive-looking Tony and her subtle smile grew into an all-out grin as her eyes filled with happy tears. “You love me?”
“I love you,” Tony replied, his voice growing steady and his eyes filling with confidence at her obvious happiness. “C’mon, Girl Friday, you’re killing me here. Do you love me or what?”
Beaming with joy, (Y/N) brought her hands up to cup his face between them and nodded. “You’re such an asshat, but I love you with all my heart.” Tony’s grin grew to match her own and he leaned forward to kiss her, but was halted by her fingers covering his eager lips. “And in the spirit of covering both our asses, I’d like to take this moment to formally tenure my resignation, Mr. Stark.”
“Duly noted, Miss (Y/L/N). And since I’m such a good ex-boss, I’ll send your resume and a letter of recommendation to a certain defrosted super-soldier who could use all the assistance he can get.”
“Becoming Captain America’s personal assistant? It’ll be a cake-walk, but at least I’ll have my favorite hot mess to come home to.”
(Y/N) moved her hand and giggled at how quickly Tony’s arms wrapped around her waist to tug her closer, but her amusement soon gave way to passion as their lips finally met in a long overdue kiss.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: I figured that we all could use a little fluff, and what better way to deliver it than in a friends-to-lovers trope-fest? Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and I hope that you have a wonderful holiday season!
Fanfiction Masterlist
Marvel Taglist: @brooke0297
All Works: @crowleysqueenofhell @momc95 @groovy-lady
#his girl friday#tony stark x reader#tony stark x f!reader#iron man x reader#iron man x f!reader#tony stark#iron man#james rhodes#war machine#pepper potts#natasha romanoff#black widow#steve rogers#captain america#bruce banner#hulk#clint barton#hawkeye#thor odinson#maria hill#helen cho#nick fury#happy hogan#obadiah stane#ivan vanko#justin hammer#aldrich killian#marvel cinematic universe
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Stark Tailoring Inc. - Series Masterlist
Summary: After his accident Stephen sold almost everything. But for his new job he needs a suit. So he goes to the place a friend recommended to him: Stark Tailoring.
Relationship: Tailor!Tony Stark / Stephen Strange
Tags: IronStrange, Tailor AU, fluff, insecure Stephen Strange, no powers, just the regular flirting of Tony Stark, different first meetings
Status: completed
Read it on AO3
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Art Tag
#ironstrange#Tony Stark / Stephen Strange#Tailor Tony Stark#Tony Stark x Doctor Strange#stephen strange#doctor strange#marvel#mcu#tony stark#space mermaid writing#Tony the tailor#Stark Tailoring Inc#masterlist#Series Masterlist#IronStrange Masterlist#Stark Tailoring Inc Masterlist
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I was wondering if you could write this prompt "pulling them by their belt to kiss them" with Tony Stark, but make it his tie and not the belt, if that's okay? Totally okay if you prefer to use the original prompt tho, whatever you like better!
‘Ties’ that bind
Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader
Warnings: 18+ fluffy. CACW events.
.
That damn red tie.
Less than fourteen hours ago, that red tie had your hands confined above your head while your lover’s breathy grunts filled your ears as you made love slow and steady like you had all the time in the world; the reality being everything around you seemed to be falling apart.
You had to grab any chance you could to make him smile or chuckle at best, the man who kept a strong facade for the world but his big brown eyes swum with anguish.
Nevertheless, he never failed to bring a smile to your face, and you to his. Or in times like these, get your mind to travel to naughty places just because of the choice of outfit.
The grey Tom Ford suit that was tailored to perfection. And that damn red tie.
You had just stepped out of the shower and into your shared bedroom, towel around your damp body while you dried your hair as Tony traipsed inside in all his suit-glory.
“Well, I’m off. Unless Capsicle and the wicked witch of the west decide to stop my greying hair and increasing blood pressure and show up here.” He sighed, giving himself a final look in the floor-length mirror before turning to you.
“Right. And the chances of that happening are near zero, isn’t it?” You softly padded across the room.
“Then I’ll get to test out my new additions to Mark 46.” He shrugged, putting on his red-tinted glasses.
Throwing the towel in your hand on the bed, you skimmed your hands over his suit, placing them on his bicep as you looked at your beautiful man.
Stressed out Tony was also one of the hottest looks, though you killed you to see him so distraught. The greys on his head and facial hair were more prominent, though this was the most authoritative you had seen him.
“Kiss for good luck?” He raised an eyebrow up at you, his hands still folded across his chest.
“Be safe baby.”
“Always am.”
Your tone was full of worry that tugged at Tony’s heartstrings, the emergence of a smile could be seen on his handsome face.
That smile turned into a surprised chuckle when you grabbed his tie and pulled him closer until he had to place his hands on your hips to steady himself.
He quickly melted into the kiss as soon as your lips touched his, all his worries and troubles disappearing for the moment that he wished would stretch on forever. His hands were swift to slide up your curves, finding the edge of the towel you’d tucked in and pulling at it to leave you completely naked.
You felt his smirk against your mouth as his hands glided over your smooth skin, a part of you wanting him to stay a bit longer so you could see where this was headed. But he had to leave, and you had to eventually part from his irresistible lips.
“Why’re you throwing your gloriously naked self at middle aged billionaires, woman? What’s wrong with you!”
Tony held you at arms’ distance and faked incredulousness, making you roll your eyes and laugh.
“Hey whatever it takes to get a certain sexy, sassy genius’ attention, man. Know any special tricks I could use?” You smirked back, covering yourself with a towel again as the Tony headed towards the door.
“Red lingerie could probably work. Maybe a few images here and there while he’s gone.” You grinned at of his voice that was now much lighter than when he’d first arrived this morning.
“Mmm. I have a few toys lying around I’m dying to test out too..” you murmured, chuckling when you heard Tony halt midway as you finished speaking; cursing to himself before closing the door behind him.
…
#tony stark drabble#tony stark x reader#tony stark x you#tony stark fluff#tony stark fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#tony stark imagine#tony stark#the stark squad#mostly marvel musings
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Starker Fluff: LUV U, from Morgan💗
For @starksvinyls in @starkerfestivals Starker Valentine's Day Exchange 💗💗
I chose this prompt!
Prompt: Their kid’s first valentine’s day in grade school and them helping prepare
I hope you like it and that my fluff was sufficient 🥺 I don't write fluff much but I had fun writing this!! And of course, the hardest bit was finding a title and I finally went with this 😱 the LUV U, from Morgan💗 is supposed to be towards the entire starker fandom cause I love you guys 💗
Rating: G
Notes: Omegaverse, married starker, mpreg (Peter is currently pregnant in the fic), domestic fluff
WC: 2662
(AO3 Link)
💗💗💗
Tony Stark, perusing down the aisle of a local Walgreens? More likely than you think. Especially when he's being led by the hand by his 6 year old daughter, Morgan.
The little alpha girl was determined because she had seen the softest, prettiest blankets and had wanted to get them for her best friends.
“There! There!” She did a kind of hop skip, jerking impatiently in place because of her grip on Tony’s hand.
For such a little girl, her grip was strong but even then Tony just grinned and hurried along. Once they were close enough, Morgan let him go and eagerly reached up on her tippy toes to get the large throw blanket.
Tony could've easily gotten it for her but she was at that age where she wanted to do everything by herself so Tony let her when it was possible.
The blanket was almost bigger than her, a cute turquoise blue that was decorated with cute candy hearts. Once Morgan had it in her hands, she rubbed her face against a candy heart that said “LUV U.”
“It's so soft,” Morgan marveled, “just like Mama’s nest blankets.”
She ran her little hand over the blanket’s surface and looked up at Tony with those honey brown eyes she inherited from her mama and Tony’s mate, Peter.
“Do you think they’ll like it?” she asked with all the seriousness a 6 year old was capable of.
Tony knew a simple yes wouldn't do it so he bent down on a knee and held out a hand.
Morgan offered it to him and Tony took it. He ran a critical eye over it and let out some serious sounding hmm’s and ahh’s.
The blanket was soft and warm, the fabric especially tailored to omegas and meant for their nests. There was even a little pouch area where an alpha could insert an included heart candy shaped pillow. An alpha could scent the pillow and it could be inserted into the pouch so that the alpha’s scent could soothe the omega it was given to.
It was a popular gift given by alphas for good reason.
Of course, the price for it reflected that but money had never been an issue. He could easily get something of much better quality but this was the one Morgan wanted to give. And so, it was the one they were getting.
It really was a cute gift and even though Morgan and her besties were far from the ages where such gifts were really intended for, blankets were common gifts given between friends. Besides, just because it was tailored to omegas didn't mean alphas couldn't receive it as gifts too. Sharing scents between friends was a common gesture of affection, after all.
Overall, Tony thought it was a thoughtful gift for Morgan’s best friends.
“They’re gonna love it, Morguna,” Tony announced, showing his approval.
Morgan gave a large smile and proudly said, “I like it too! And look! There's a few different colors!”
Morgan took back the blanket with a happy smile and Tony smiled too, infected by her enthusiasm.
This time, Morgan watched as Tony pulled a few more blankets, each color getting the young alpha’s approval.
Once their main objective was secured, they checked out the rest of the aisle. Besides getting her besties their gifts, Morgan was also handing out Valentine's Day cards along with a small little gift baggie.
The Valentine's Day aisle was full of gifts. Fuzzy blankets, slippers, and of course, lots and lots of chocolate and candy. Across from the gifts was an aisle completely full of plushies of various sizes.
Tony had the pleasure of helping her load their little basket with goodies to make for goodie bags for the rest of her classmates. For the most part, he indulged Morgan’s choices, especially since she mostly went for cute pencils, stickers, erases, and mini notebooks. They were sold as sets, all intended for the little goodie bags that the Stark family would be setting up.
The little Valentine’s Day cards that sported the Avenger’s faces were ignored. Morgan had seen so much Avengers merchandise that she was mostly immune to it. Plus, for some reason they always made Iron Man’s face a little funky.
Instead, Morgan’s eye was caught by cute little animal themed Valentine’s Day cards which she happily put into the basket.
Tony did turn a blind eye to the little Spider-Man and Iron-man pair of plushies she snuck into the basket. It wasn't exactly easy to ignore when they were as big as her arm.
“For Mama and Daddy,” Morgan told him anyway. Then she held up a squishmallow of Spider-Man that was the size of her hand and asked, “For Morgan?”
Tony was supposed to be the stern parent but he quickly melted to Morgan’s puppy eyes. “How can we have a Spider-Man and Iron-man without a little baby Spider-Man?”
At Tony’s comment, her eyes lit up and she quickly went back to where she found the baby Spidey, only to come back with another little Iron-man of the same size.
Tony should've known and yet, when she looked up at him, offering the toy with the question, “For baby Benny?” Tony could only melt at her request.
Even mentioning the baby that Peter was carrying had Tony turning into a pile of mush. The baby in Peter’s belly was, according to Google, the size of a papaya at week 21. Their second pup, Morgan’s little brother that she was already spoiling.
Peter often blamed Tony for it, but they both knew that their little Morgan was just a thoughtful and excited Big Sister to Be.
“Of course, baby girl,” Tony smiled wide, lowering the basket so she could put the toy in. “We can't forget baby Benny.”
“Course not!” Morgan nodded oh so seriously, a satisfied smile on her face.
While they waited in line, Tony took a quick picture of their haul and sent it to his mate. Peter’s exasperated but fond response had Tony grinning.
My Love, My Mate, Hubby ❤️
We’re going to have a whole room dedicated to plushies of us and the team, aren't we? 🧐
Received
Tony Stark
Guess I shouldn't spoil what Pepp and Rhodey got the kids.
Sent
The conversation ended there as Tony and Morgan were next in line. A few minutes later, the two left and returned home.
There were plans. Plans which involve Morgan going to bed at 8 PM, the latest, but of course, things never panned out the way they wanted.
Morgan was too excited for Valentine's Day and even more so when they returned to find cupcakes waiting for them. Tony and Morgan had gotten the goodies while Peter had gotten the bags and cupcakes.
What followed was a night of chaos, as Peter, Tony, and Morgan worked together to put the goodie bags together.
Between the two of them, Peter was the genius as he set up the empty goodie bags on the table. Tony was regulated to organizing the packs of stickers, pencils, and erasers.
Their Morgan was fairly popular but she only called maybe two other kids her besties. For these, she personally picked out their stuff, but for the rest, Tony took over.
It was messy. It was a little chaotic.
Tony could've easily just gotten some grunts to do this or even easier, just bought some standard goodie bags. But as he was dropping pieces of candy, one by one, into each bag, he couldn't help but watch his two favorite people.
Morgan and Peter were across from him, working on the cards.
“This one for Parker?” Peter held up a card with some cute little frogs and read the front, “I hop we stay friends forever!”
“Oh!” Morgan giggled at the words and nodded. “Yeah, they’ll like that! They like frogs!”
Morgan took the card and focused on writing her classmate’s name with Peter’s supervision.
“P-A-R-K-E-R,” Peter instructed gently.
Morgan’s pencil was steady as she wrote and she echoed back each letter.
“...K… E…R!” She cheered as she finished. “Like this?”
A sweet smile crossed Peter’s face and kissed the top of Morgan’s head.
“Good job, baby.” he said then smiling down at the name, he added, “Did you know Mama's last name used to be Parker?”
Morgan looked up at Peter with a surprised look.
“Your last name’s Stark though! Like mine,” she said, 100% confident.
Peter just laughed and smiled. “Yeah, it's Stark now but before I met your Daddy, my name used to be Peter Parker.”
Morgan’s mouth formed a little O as she thought about it.
“I like it,” she decided, “But I like mama as Peter Stark too.”
Peter laughed again before agreeing wholeheartedly. “I like it too.”
Their laughter and soft giggles had Tony looking up, pausing in his own task. He had caught the tail end of the conversation and couldn't help the warmth that spread throughout his body as he looked at them. His pup. His mate. This moment… It was just part of their daily lives. It wasn't even Valentines Day and all they were doing was preparing for a little kid party.
A moment in time, something normal, and just every day. And yet… Tony felt like he could capture this moment, have it become one of his core memories. Morgan and Peter, their heads bent low as they worked together. Morgan’s little fingers curled around a pencil while Peter watched her, one hand on his pregnant belly, and the other fiddling with another Valentine's Day card.
“Love… M… o… r… g… a… n…!” their daughter cheerfully completed the card.
Morgan then looked up, as did Peter.
“Tony?” Peter asked curiously. He arched a brow even as Morgan reached over to hand the card to the alpha. “Anything wrong?”
He took a second to reply, just taking in the sight of Morgan looking at him curiously and Peter’s familiar and much loved face.
“Absolutely nothing, sweetheart,” Tony replied.
He took the card and continued putting the goodies in the bag. This time, he focused so they could get everything done in time. Even then, he had one ear listening to his mate and pup and occasionally, if he looked up and watched them joke around and write the cards, no one would blame him.
Truly, there was absolutely nothing wrong in his world.
His heart was full and he was not lacking anything in the world when he had these two– his family, his loves. His smile only grew wider when he thought of baby Benny.
There was absolutely nothing wrong and everything right.
After they finished, they were left with several neat rows of goodie bags, each one tucked by hand written cards by their sweet alpha girl. They made sure to praise her. Morgan had inherited Tony’s busy mind so being able to sit down for the hour was an accomplishment. It helped that Peter coached her and kept her attention by engaging her about her classmates.
Once dinner passed and then bedtime, Tony carried their kid to get washed up and from there, Peter took over.
Tony caught a glimpse of them, Morgan squealing as she ran into her room. Her arms were full of the plushies that were bought earlier, as well as the little heart shaped scent pillows for her best friends.
Peter tucked Morgan into her own big girl bed. There were a few blankets from their nest because even though Morgan was a big girl now (her words, not Tony's), she still couldn't fall asleep without the scent of her mama and papa. Tony hadn't protested the loss of their stolen blankets. He may even shed a tear when the day comes that she no longer needed or wanted to be scented by her parents but that day was somewhere far in the future.
By the time Tony came by, Morgan’s eyes were sleep heavy. They only fully close once Tony and Peter each give her a kiss on the forehead, exchanging “I love you”s and sleepy good nights.
Tony left the door open a crack and led his mate to their own comfy little nest with an arm around his waist.
When the lights turned on, Peter let out a soft little gasp when he was met by a huge bouquet of roses set by the bedside table.
“Oh…” He turned a pleased little smile towards Tony. “You know I don't need roses, Tony.”
Since Morgan was born, it felt like sometimes there was a fast forward button pressed on their days. There was just so much to do and so much to plan for. With the arrival of baby Benny, it would only get busier. And yet, Tony was determined to do his best to show how much he loved his mate and to do even these little things like get his roses whether it was Valentine's Day or not.
Tony hummed and wrapped his arms around his mate’s waist.
“I know, darling, but you deserve them,” Tony said. His hands slid towards Peter’s belly and he gently caressed the small bump there. “You're my partner in crime, the omega to my alpha, the mother to my kids– I love you, Pete. You've given me so much, let me give you flowers once in a while?”
“You give me so much more than just flowers, alpha,” Pete said in return. He cupped Tony's face in his palms, and the kiss they shared was as sweet as chocolate.
Tony sighed in contentment and breathed in the scent of his mate, his home.
“Wait– wait, don't distract me,” Tony huffed, pulling away to Peter’s surprise. “I have another gift for you.”
“Oh?” Peter questioned.
“Yeah, sit down,” Tony told him and Peter, with a healthy amount of curiosity, did as he was asked.
He only understood when Tony knelt down and took a hold of his foot, one hand cupping the sole whole the other rested on top.
“Oh!” Peter gasped, almost melting back into their nest of pillows and blankets.
“I learned a new thing,” Tony said as he massaged his mate’s aching foot. “I know it was around this time that it got particularly hard when you had Morgan and I felt bad that I couldn't help before… So just lay back and relax, babe.”
Peter had no complaints and by the time Tony was done, he had a fully relaxed mate cuddling into the pillows.
Inside him, Tony’s alpha was very pleased at being able to relieve some of Peter’s pain. He was even more pleased when he came into the nest and spent some time with the baby.
He caressed his mate’s pregnant belly, talking to baby Benny and peppering kisses on Peter’s belly. His soft words were mixed in with soft hmm’s from Peter and those words turned into a wordless pur when the omega started running his hand through Tony’s hair.
“Goodnight, baby Benny,” Tony whispered and pressed one more kiss to Peter’s belly. “Be good and let your mama rest, okay? You can go nuts when you come out, Papa will take care of you.
Peter chuckled, the soft laugher making his belly quiver beneath Tony’s touch.
“You say that now, but remember when Morgan came? You were a mess,” Peter teased him gently.
Tony kindly didn't mention that they had both been a mess as new parents but they had eventually found their way, hadn't they?
Morgan, being a great kid, was evidence of that.
Tony settled behind his mate, spooning against him so he could continue petting the soft skin of Peter's belly.
“I’m a pro now,” Tony protested quietly. “And I'm sure Benny will be a little angel.”
“Mhmm…” Peter murmured, already slipping into sleep. Tony nuzzled in close, kissing the spot right behind his mate’s ear.
He fell asleep to the sound of his mate’s purring, feeling content with his lot in life.
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Flufftober Day 31 | Spiked candy
Pairing | Iron Man!Tony Stark x Avenger!Female!Reader
Word count | 2.1K
Summary | You've had a crush on Tony for as long as you can remember, but you didn't know he also has one on you. During his annual Halloween party, he makes a move using a project he's been working on for a long time, and they have precisely the desired effect because you couldn't be happier the morning after. Your dream of being his might finally come true after all.
Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Swearing, costume party, use of pet name (Kitten), aphrodisiac candies, mutual pining, friends/coworkers to lovers, smut (Daddy kink, dirty talk, oral - M receiving, light choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), squirting, implied aftercare), a boatload of fluff.
Prompt | 31. Dreams do come true | @flufftober
Prompt | Tony only buys the good stuff when it comes to Halloween candy. But be careful. There's a reason there are no kids at this party. Some of the candies are a pretty potent aphrodisiac | @jtargaryen18
A/n | This one-shot is written for Jamie's Halloween Challenge 2023. As always, I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for enjoying this with me and proofreading it as well! I had an absolute blast writing this one, and I hope you will all enjoy it as much as I did when writing 🖤
Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡
Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | GIF credit to the owner
This GIF has been found on Pinterest, but I sadly can't find the original pin anymore since I forgot to save it. If you have the link to the original GIF, please let me know so I can credit it accordingly!
Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist
Your costume idea may have been basic, but your result is far from that. The tight black dress, thigh-high heels, slicked-back hair, cat ears, and smokey makeup give you a sexy, sultry look you hope will impress one man. Anthony Edward Stark.
The entire day you've spent getting ready, from doing your hair and makeup to having every single hair on your body waxed that doesn't belong there. You're smooth as a baby's butt, and you've never looked better.
Looking this good also means you feel just about as good, and confidence is dripping off every inch of your body as you enter the party. Each year, Tony throws a Halloween party even more extravagant than the last, but you don't look at any of it.
There's only one thought in your mind: ''What will Tony think of my costume?'' it's a good thing you don't have to wait long before you have your answer.
''Fuckin' hell, Kitten, don't you look like a million bucks tonight?'' Tony says, and his hand finds its way to the small of your back as he leans in to whisper these words in your ear.
Heat creeps up your chest and neck, all the way to the tips of your ears because you've had a crush on him since before you had even become an Avenger. But honestly, who wouldn't when they were in the presence of someone as amazing as Iron Man?
However, what you did not know - or were too in love to see - is that he had a crush on you as well. He's been flirting with you ever since laying eyes on you. And tonight, he plans to make it abundantly clear how he feels about you.
''You don't look bad yourself, either,'' you say as you look Tony up and down. He's wearing a tailored pin-striped suit with no shirt, the jacket hanging open to reveal every last ridge of his muscle. Around his neck is a bow tie identical to the one of Jack Skellington, and the white hair and makeup finish off the entire look.
You turn towards him and lay your hand on his abdomen, scratching softly down to the edge of his pants with your Halloween-themed nails. When you hear Tony's breath hitch, you know you've achieved your goal and flashed a mischievous smile up to him.
''Don't tempt me, Kitten,'' he growls lowly, the dark brown of his eyes almost disappearing as his pupils grow wide in arousal.
''I'm sorry, Daddy,'' you say before tapping his chest once and turning around to head to the bar, and you're using the fact that it is busy to your advantage. You're immediately swallowed into the crowd, and before Tony can even reach out to you, you're out of his sight.
''Shit,'' he mutters to himself.
You have found your way to the bar in the meantime, and that's where you find both Bucky and Steve, just like every other party. Bucky's not a socialite, and Steve is nice enough to stay with his best friend.
Bucky whistles as you walk over. ''Someone must have left a cage open because there's a wild animal at this party.''
''Lookin' amazing tonight,'' Steve adds, and it's only then that you realize they're dressed up as one another. Steve is wearing Bucky's tactical gear, complete with a fake metal arm made for him, and Bucky is wearing Steve's Captain America suit, complete with the shield on his back.
''You two look amazing as well,'' you say with a big smile before ordering a cocktail. The two of them are some of your best friends, and they have been rooting for you and Tony since day one.
''Is there any chance you dressed like this for a certain someone?'' Steve inquires, and Bucky looks at you with a quirked brow.
The blush across your cheeks tells them everything you need to know, though they drop it for now, instead pulling you into the conversation they had earlier.
In the meantime, Tony is setting up a little plan that he has been working on for a while. He has made some candy for tonight, but this isn't just regular candy. Oh, no. These contain a potent aphrodisiac.
Now, Tony has to wait until you're feeling snack-ish - which you usually do at these parties - and make your way to the candy table. Luck must be on his side today because it doesn't take long for you to check out the selection.
Your eyes glide past every card by the bowls, and you chuckle at their puns. When you arrive at the last bowl, you suddenly feel a pair of eyes on you, and that's when you turn around.
''Care for a candy, Kitten?'' Tony asks, handing you one from the last bowl he just set up, and you gladly take it, unwrapping it quickly before popping it in your mouth.
It didn't take long for the effect to find its way into your system, and before it could hit you full force, Tony had already herded you to a nearby conference room.
That's where you find yourself on your knees on the floor, his thick, veiny cock filling your throat, blocking every single noise that even threatens to leave.
''Jesus, look at how good you're taking me, Kitten; I can feel myself in that tight little throat of yours,'' he says as his large fingers wrap around your throat and squeeze the sides to restrict your airflow just enough to have you feeling a little lightheaded.
The groans leaving his chest are out of this world, and they only spur you on to take him entirely. Just a few more inches, and you are taking him, but he doesn't let you get that far.
''Oh, fuck Kitten, I won't last if you do that,'' he says before pulling you off, your tongue still lapping at his tip despite not having him in your mouth anymore.
You're panting uncontrollably, but you're also turned on beyond belief, and you can't wait to feel him inside you, where you need him more than anything.
''Daddy, please! Want you to fuck me until I can't walk,'' you say with an innocent look in your eyes, though your face isn't that innocent anymore.
Makeup has run entirely, your hair is a big mess, and your neck and chest are covered in bruises and lovebites from Tony. How your outfit is still intact is beyond you, but that won't last long.
''Yeah? Is that what my Kitten wants? To be fucked by her Daddy? You've been a good girl for me, haven't you, sucking my soul out through my dick,'' he says as he helps you to bend over the table, your chest and cheek pressed firmly against the wood.
''Y-yeah, 'm Daddy's good girl,'' you say with a whine, and before you know it, your sad excuse of a thong has been ripped from your body, and Tony is shoving himself inside of you in a single thrust.
There's not a single thought in your mind other than ''Daddy!'' and you can't help but want to hold onto something to ground yourself, but most of all, you want to grab Tony.
Anywhere you can, you want to grab him, scratch him, anything to ground yourself. His fast-paced thrusts are sending you over the edge in no time, and your pussy squeezes him like a vice.
With a loud shout of his name, you squirt all over him, and you don't know when his fingers found your clit, but you're delighted that they did.
You're at the point where your brain has turned into complete mush, and you can't think, let alone talk, so all that's leaving your mouth are whines and broken moans.
He keeps thrusting despite you becoming oversensitive quickly, and it's almost too much, but somehow you manage to hold on long enough for him to cum inside you and collapse on top of you.
''Wow, Kitten, now I know what I've been missing out on all this time, huh? But you know what they say, dreams do come true for those who want it badly enough,'' he chuckles.
He cleans you up, and after that, you two head back to his apartment in the Compound, only a few floors above the party. Tony has carried your bridal style, your head propped against his shoulder while you fell asleep.
''Get some rest, Kitten, we'll talk tomorrow,'' he says with a few kisses on your forehead. He removed your makeup and remaining clothing, instead pulling a pair of his boxer briefs and oversized shirts onto your body.
The combination of the candy and Tony treating you like that in the conference room has left you tired beyond words, and you don't even notice him climbing into the bed with you after removing all of his makeup in the shower.
The following day, you wake up with a big yawn and a stretch. Tony's strong arms are wrapped around you as he pulls you against his chest, and you feel very content in his hold.
''Mornin' Princess,'' Tony says in a deep, gravelly voice that warms your insides. When you're about to turn around, you suddenly feel a soreness between your legs, and that's when you remember what happened last night.
''Good morning, Tony,'' you say as you turn over and look into his deep brown eyes. A small smile appears on your lips, and you place a soft peck on his lips, which he happily reciprocates.
''Thank you for last night,'' you whisper before burying your face into his neck, and he chuckles softly.
''You're welcome, Princess; I'm thrilled we finally ended up here together,'' he says, and you hum contently. You don't want to leave his arms, but once your belly starts rumbling, you know you don't have a choice.
''C'mon, let's get some breakfast, and after, we'll talk, okay?'' he says, and you agree before wiggling out of his grasp after a few more kisses.
Tony pulls on a pair of sweats before you walk to the communal kitchen, where, much to your surprise, no one is.
''How about some pancakes?'' you say, and Tony agrees, so you get the batter ready while Tony sets up the pan to make them. Once you're both ready, he grabs your hand and pulls you towards him, letting you step in front of the stove and standing behind you to bake them.
Even with you standing there, he can prepare them perfectly, and you can't stop yourself from smiling constantly. You don't notice the rest of the Avengers slowly trickling into the kitchen, but they all give each other knowing looks as they see the two of you.
''Morning, you two,'' Bucky says as he walks in, and that's when your head snaps towards him, and you finally see all the other Avengers in the kitchen, looking at the both of you.
A deep red color from the tops of your cheeks down to your chest appears, but all Bucky does is wink, and you give him a huge smile. Tony places a soft kiss on the top of your head before flipping more pancakes.
It doesn't bother Tony in the slightest, and you let yourself melt into his embrace while you wait for the last pancakes to be cooked.
''Let's have our breakfast in my apartment, okay?'' he whispers, and you nod before plopping a few pancakes on your plate with extra syrup and waving to the Avengers before you retreat to his apartment.
As soon as you find yourself on his couch, Tony has sat down next to you, and you're enjoying his delicious pancakes. He decides to break the silence first by addressing what's going on between the two of you.
''So, what do you think, Princess? Was this just a one-time thing, or did you have something else in mind?'' he asks carefully, and your eyes shoot up to his.
''Oh, Tony! This was more than just a one-and-done for me! I can't tell you how long I've loved you. Well, first it was just Iron Man, but when I got to know the man behind the suit, that's when you stole my heart, and to this day, you still have it,'' you say with a shy smile.
You feel a little stupid for saying you've had a crush on him forever, but he doesn't judge. At the very least, it's an ego boost for him, though he doesn't say that.
''It wasn't a 'one-and-done' for me either-'' he says in air quotes, ''I'd love to give us a chance at a relationship because I want to show you how much I love you, Princess. Treat you the way you deserve to be treated,'' he says.
And with those words, it's official. You're in a relationship with the one and only Iron Man, and you couldn't be happier. Dreams do come true for those who believe in them, after all.
#jamieshalloween2023#flufftober 2023#day 31#tony stark#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark fanfic#tony stark one shot#tony stark imagine#tony stark x female reader#tony stark x reader#tony stark x y/n#tony stark fluff#tony stark smut#iron man#iron man fanfiction#iron man fanfic#iron man one shot#iron man imagine#iron man x female reader#iron man x reader#iron man x y/n#iron man fluff#iron man smut#happy halloween#spooky season#halloween
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Threadbare (2)
Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader
Part Two: Strain Curve (see previous or series)
IMPORTANT: I forgot to mention and link that this started with an anon ask, so I should give them credit for the idea. Here's where this all started! Additionally, Richard Fisk is an actual Marvel character and the son of Kingpin. All that is straight out of the comics (and animated shows), down to the horrible color choices.
Summary: Steve shelters you from Fisk while attempting to hide the truth from Tony. He's not a great liar...but how much of this is really fake?
Warnings for fluffy fluff of the 21st-fluffery with a teeny bit of angst, 100% idiots in love! Also a quick disclaimer about me knowing exactly diddlysquat about fashion design. I binged 'Next In Fashion' and so this is the best I got lol... WC 4066
You watch Steve blush at your attempted smile. He paws at the back of his head before gathering another confession.
“Actually, I do have—I mean, yes, I wanted to see you, but uh—“ he rushes over to fetch a paper bag he must have stashed as he snuck in behind the cops “—I did have a reason to come.”
In the bag, you find three shirts, and your smile turns more genuine.
“Of course, you did. How romantic.”
You’re still awash with adrenaline; there’s no filter to keep your teasing at bay. You can barely pick up that you said anything anyway.
Steve shrugs, looking down to take back the shirts as Abby returns with a glass of water for you. “Not my best move.”
You chug the water, loudly, unable to regulate how desperately you need it. Abby gently pries Steve’s shirts from his tense arms.
“Right.” Steve rolls his shoulders out, straightening and clearly falling into Captain mode. “We need to get you somewhere safe. I just have to make a few calls and—“
“Don’t tell Stark,” you blurt, hand instinctively grabbing the wrist that holds his phone ready. “I’m sorry. That sounded like an order, just…please don’t tell Mr. Stark.” Tony can’t know that Fisk has been using you as a tailor as well. He can’t.
Alarm and curiosity flicker behind Steve’s blue eyes, but he hides it well immediately. “Ok. I’ll—” he makes no move to take his arm back “—think of something.”
“And I have three clients left…for the day.”
Abby tsks you from behind though it’s the truth. The empty glass rattles on the tabletop with your faint tremor.
Steve thinks for a prolonged, squinting moment. “After work then. I’ll pick you up.”
You run off adrenaline and butterflies the rest of the day, and yes, whatever liquids or snacks Abby and Dominica (when she returns from her errand) put into your hand along the way, but mostly it’s the fluttering anticipation of Steve that floats you through.
And then he’s back and it’s already dark outside.
“Oh shit,” you burst, politely showing Mr. Chen out while Steve waits his turn to get in the door. He says nothing, but Captain America lowers his head in disapproval at your curse. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time. Let me grab some things.”
You race up the stairs to the apartment over the shop. Your clientele and brand used to be small enough that you could keep those two sides of life separate, but slowly, your work has crept into your living space. Now you survive from a dresser, a hanging rack, and a Murphy bed that doubles as a small desk when it’s upright against the wall.
Not much of an existence, but it’s very practical.
You’re shuffling around with an overnight bag and a dump tote to grab mostly work things and two changes of clothes. One of your assistants can bring you more stuff if/when necessary, but it feels presumptive to think you’ll live out of a safe house for long.
“So…working to live or living to work?”
You jump at Steve’s deep voice from the open doorway. He looks around at the hodgepodge of work benches and mannequins lining the walls.
“It’s a fluid and evolving situation,” you admit, sweeping several binders of fabric swatches and sketch pads into the tote. You eye a work-in-progress on one of the dummies and decide against trying to take it. Too bulky.
In order not to keep Steve waiting, you hand over the tote and head to the car, texting Abby and Dominica instructions the whole drive. Steve assures you that you’ll still have wifi and freedom to communicate, so you don’t have to clear fittings and consults off the books. It simply won’t be wise to invite welcome clients into where you’re staying.
Admittedly, that’s very generous considering you could have been looking at a blackout, witness-protection level of hiding.
You’re still on your phone when Steve opens your car door, and you shuffle with your duffel, his feet at the edge of your periphery to follow. It doesn’t register that you walk down a long hall. It doesn’t register that there’s an elevator ride and another voice. It doesn’t register that you’re looking at a kind of hostel-esque apartment inside another building until you ask if there’s a space you’ll be able to spread out for work.
Steve glows with pride that he thought of that and walks you to a conference room…surrounded by glass…overlooking a 30-story high view of the city.
You’re in the Avengers Tower, formerly Stark Tower.
“Wait, he’s not supposed to know.”
Steve gets your confusion right away. “Tony doesn’t, but without filing paperwork stating the reason you need a safe house, this was the best—“
“Sheers!” the booming voice of one Tony Stark reverberates across 360 degrees of windows. “I thought it might be you.”
“Might be me for what?” you ask as innocently as possible.
“As Capsicles’ first, of course.”
Steve hangs his head while his pal claps him on the back.
“First use of his guest pass that is. Granted, I’ve been saying for years we need an in-house tailor, but no takers…” Stark fake-punches Steve’s shoulder. “Way to break the ice, buddy. I’m proud of you. What happened? You noticed you’re both workaholics and needed your girl…closer to get closer, did you? Good call.”
Steve shoots wary eyes your way, silently praying you ignore that remark or maybe checking you’re okay with the implication. The way Stark says ‘your girl’ as if he’s heard it several times before though…
“Something like that,” you shrug.
“At least he finally asked you. I kept telling him to shit or get off the pot.”
“Language,” you hiss quietly.
The men look a little shocked for a split second before slowly turning to each other, a silent conversation passed in the empty space over your head. Whatever just happened seems to have really convinced Tony because a wry smile flickers beneath his sinking, pale sunglasses. Yes, of course, Tony Stark is wearing sunglasses at night, just as, of course, Captain America is willingly deceiving Stark to be your fake boyfriend.
“Romeo,” the building’s namesake coos. “Training them young, I see.”
Steve’s jaw and neck tighten, a raging flush creeping up his pale skin, but he doesn’t argue. Stark buys the ploy, which is great, but in reality, Steve doesn’t even have your personal number.
Tony lifts his hands in surrender and starts retreating to the door. “Look, I hate to take credit—“
“No, you don’t.”
Incredulous, sagging eyebrows dip below his frames. “—but I am very, very good.” He points a finger back and forth between you and Steve. “You’re welcome.”
He tries to peek under a pile of sketches atop your work tote, and you rush to slap your hand down. Stark might see the other designs you’re working on, and just like he can’t know about Fisk, he can’t know about those.
“Fine.” Tony puts his hands up again. “I’m going.”
Steve steps to your side, apology loud in his eyes, and asks if he can make you tea or something stronger, ya know, because Tony has that effect on people.
“Yeah—“ you stare off toward the elevators where Stark remains lurking “—he’s still there,” you whisper.
Steve huffs a laugh and shifts to bridge the mere inches left between you, his hand gently landing on your upper arm and planting a kiss on your forehead like a breeze.
“Better make it look good then.”
Turns out you need tea and food.
You’d been so reliant on your assistants for nourishment that you forgot dinner. Steve sees; he has it covered. Instead of winding down after a trying day, however, you get a rush of energy, and you can’t squander the chance to make crucial adjustments. Every minute counts in the lead-up to Fashion Week.
“May I join you?” Steve asks, ready to walk away with his meal in hand should you prefer. “I won’t take up much space.” He looks down at his shoes and up the two inches above his head to the top of the doorframe. “Ok, much more space,” he corrects.
“You wanted to leave me alone?”
He bites back a smile and shakes his head, settling into the least cluttered corner.
He chats excitedly as you both eat, but after failing to pry some answers about Fisk from you,—‘are you often threatened by clients?’ and ‘can you steer him in another designer’s direction?’—Steve slips away to grab his own art supplies.
You’ve barely looked up until you get a surge of inspiration and search for your colored pencils under the pile of templates. How did they get all the way over there? Since when are red and grey so worn down? Weren’t you needing to replace both blues soon?
“Those in your way? I can move them?”
Steve stops sketching, holding a yellow pencil, the only color missing from the tin. That’s when you realize. He uses the same brand of pencils you do—tools made of quality materials but nothing overly fancy.
“No need,” you marvel. “I just mistook them for my own.”
Steve sweeps a large hand out in offering. “Mistake away.”
You can’t help it. You chew your lip to calm your grin. He’s simply a very giving man who enjoys simple things. It’s refreshing.
“Or we could trade? We seem to use the opposite colors the most.”
“Right,” Steve laughs, “I went on a tear trying for Sam’s suit in-flight. Never turned out.” Shaking his head dislodges a lock of hair, so he runs his fingers through the strategic coif.
“Hmm,” you hum absently, engrossed by his picturesque appearance, “my drawings are more like guidelines for my imagination. No need to be precise.”
“A sentiment I’ve heard many times before.” He slides the tin closer to the midway point between you. “I just want to do beauty justice, which sounds pretentious but…
“Point is—“ Steve lifts his gaze to you with a soft shrug “—use whatever you like.”
You thought your work habits were grueling, but poor Steve flits around at all hours of the day and night with workouts, training, meetings, and missions. He mostly gets to do drive-by waves of ‘hello’ as he travels the building past your glass bubble, always with a smile, always with a tinge of something else. He’s an easy man to read: you can tell when he’s fatigued (in spirit though, not body), you can tell when he’s irritated from stress, and you can tell when he wants to linger but has to go.
It’s incredibly cute. Steve Rogers is just so damn cute.
You continue with business as usual as best you can, video calling during consults and the most critical fittings. Clients aren’t exactly happy with your absence, but they don’t dare complain when the alternative is waiting another month for you to schedule in person. Besides, there are oftentimes you step away from routine appointments to focus on creating new lines.
Dominica is allowed to walk right in with any of your requested supplies since she’s delivered to Stark several times before. She stays for a few hours to touch base. She assures you that Tarik is no longer unnerved by the police car that sits at the curb outside the atélier’s front door. Apparently, Abby takes the cops coffee a couple times a day.
All in all, it’s going well.
One day, you think Steve is showing up for one of your ‘sketch sessions’—where he sits in his own chair somewhere around the huge oval table and quietly works alongside you—but not today.
“They…it’s…” Steve plants his feet on the carpet across from you and looks behind him nervously. Anytime other people are near the room, he walks right over to you to kiss your cheek, a show to keep up the appearance of actually being a couple, but it’s late enough that no one is around. “We do movie night—we’re doing movie ni—we’re watching a movie if you’d like to join?”
You’re tempted to tease him, ask ‘where’s my kiss’ or something that makes that fiery blush creep up Steve’s face, but you grin back. “Sure. I could use the break.”
Honestly, no, you should be hammering out some details for the lapels of this blazer, but ehh, you’re also tired of staring at the same damn jacket.
Of course, this means the lot of them save you and Steve seats beside each other on a couch. You two have only ever sat in chairs in front of or separated by a table, so figuring out how to curl up next to the man you are not dating is an adventure in micro-expressions. You share a look that lasts about two seconds but contains a forty-five-minute discussion of how far is okay to take this and agree that you want to keep up the charade.
Thus, Steve lifts his arm to drape across your shoulders, and you lean into his chest.
It’s a good fit, good enough that you wake up two hours later not knowing what the movie was about and starting to sweat from being so close to his very warm body.
Maybe it’s the eye convo or maybe napping directly on him tells Steve how comfortable you are with him, but either way, he changes to giving a kiss on the cheek or forehead every instance he sees you, no exceptions.
After a week of remaining on the same floor of the same skyscraper and doing nothing but working, sleeping, and movie-sleeping, you’re at your wit’s end, longingly staring out the window at the city below.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asks as he enters the conference room. Forehead kiss this time. His lips feel soft and warm as they ghost over your skin.
“Stuck,” you mutter.
His hand smooths across your back. “Well, how do you normally get unstuck?”
“I go for a walk through the park.” You know you can’t go outside, but it’s difficult to wrangle every bit of bitterness at your captivity. You appreciate all Steve is doing to make it so Fisk can’t get to you, but you need fresh air.
Steve sighs like he’s mad at himself before spinning around the room. “Right.” He grabs your hand. “Come with me.”
In the elevator, Steve explains that in keeping with the eco-friendly intent of the new clean energy tower, Tony made half of the rooftop a greenhouse and the other half a garden. The walking paths are all moss-covered, but there are no benches. Just outside the elevator doors are folding chairs, and Steve grabs two.
On separate chairs with no table in sight, you two watch the sunset on the other side of the building from your work room. You take in a big breath of the chilly air and shiver, completely content to experience freedom away from climate control, but Steve rushes back into the greenhouse to retrieve a blanket from the stack beside the chairs.
“Here ya go,” he stumbles, leaning to tuck the fabric around you. “I should have brought us tea or something,” but when he makes to leave this time, you take his hand.
“You’ll miss it.” He’s probably seen the view from here a million times before, but you don’t want him to go. “Stay,” you say in a whisper.
Steve visibly softens, shoulders dropping, eyes alight. “Yeah?” He sits again and looks at the nearly cloudless sky. “Yeah.” He slouches to get comfy in the small and unsupportive chair, but he looks so at home bathed in the warm pink light. “Each time’s a bit different but—“ he turns to you, smiling “—this one’s better.”
Since the sunset sit-down, Steve makes a point to pry you away from the work area when he has time to hang out with you. The couch isn’t actually far away from the conference room, but it does mean you get to sit together, your feet in his lap while he reads a book, listening to his commentary on the author’s points or sketching aimlessly for fun.
The whole thing feels like a bizarre vacation, some alternate reality where your home life intersects with superheroes. Tony Stark may have been a sometimes-client, but he never let you attempt anything more custom than a three-piece suit.
You’re not complaining; it’s just weird that Captain America is so average when his uniform comes off. He sinks his face into his palm when he’s sleepy. His yawn is outrageously adorable for how big the man is. He absently holds your ankles steady in his lap when he shifts on the cushions. His eyelids droop, and he repeats paragraphs when he can no longer keep his place on the page.
Steve Rogers could not be more normal, and for this reason, you find him extraordinary.
He gets dressed every morning while you’re there, no sweatpants, no workout wear—or, what did Sam call it? Athleisure? That’s not a word, right?—except for when Steve is actively working out. He thinks it’s too on-the-nose to wear your designs in front of you for days on end, but that limits his options significantly, considering how much of his wardrobe sports a Tovarich label. Good jeans and a black sweater will have to do because today he’s playing model.
It seems the mannequin Dominica hauled in for you isn’t close to the right proportions for your client so Steve volunteered, rewarded immediately with a gorgeous, toothy smile that made his heart thump against his ribcage.
Steve’s chatty but can’t help it.
There was one conversation a few days ago that unlocked so many memories he thought he’d lost.
While he peeked at a few of your sketches, you asked him about clothing in the 40s, and he took your notepad to doodle a bit. Steve drew a common dress from memory to show you girls he grew up with, the pleats and cinches in their exact spots because—now that he has your full and rapt attention—he thinks it’s important.
He’s had to recall maps, battle maneuvers, building layouts, and evil plans more times than he can count; no one’s ever asked him how his mother styled her hair or which shoes she wore to work at the hospital.
They’re just shoes, but Steve sat misty-eyed describing how Ma tied her laces a very specific way, the way she taught him to, the way he still ties them to this very day. He hadn’t thought of why in so long, and ever since, little details keep flooding back.
“Buck used to never tuck in his shirts,” Steve laughs as you nudge his arms higher to check his range of motion in the shoulders. “He’d fix the front half and leave a tail out in the back.”
You chuckle at that. “Unacceptable for proper ol’ Stevie,” you muse.
“No, it was not—“ he drops his head in shame “—and I’d remind him every time.” Steve spins, prompted by the pull of your hands at his waist. His face is on fire, but he promised to help you. He just has to ’suffer’ through your touch, he supposes.
How horrible…
“Sharp dresser, were you? Not a hair out of place?”
“Yes, ma’am, or…at least for my size I was.”
You’re deep in thought, pulling the bottom hem to check how it lays at his hips, checking the lining before buttoning him up. “These might be too flashy,” you mumble. “Gosh, I hope he likes this color.”
“Why not? It’s stunning,” Steve jumps too eagerly at the chance to praise the barely purple fabric. It’s that kind of illusion hue that might look black, navy, or its true shade in different lights.
“And the buttons?” you prod.
He tilts one of the stamped, dark nickel rounds to see the embellishment. “I’d consider that a signature touch of the Tovarich brand,” he beams.
Your elation is contagious until an ear-splitting alarm sounds overhead. You’re so startled you spring backward into a rolling chair and topple to the floor.
Steve scrambles to help you right yourself while the wailing screech continues, but he knows that noise.
Emergency.
He has to go.
You’re holding your elbow, flashing him a thumbs up, and Steve feels terrible yelling to ensure you’re okay.
Agents race past the glass walls, and he really has to run so off he goes, jacket still on.
An incredibly long seventeen hours later, Steve is returning to his room only to notice you’ve fallen asleep at the conference table. He’s pleased there is no bandage on your elbow, so the fall was no worse than bruising, but he refuses to leave you there.
Slowly peeling your face and hands from your drafting paper, Steve wrestles your flopping arms and limp legs into a solid hold to carry you to your own room.
You don’t wake up, not fully, only enough to grip the shoulder strap of his shield harness as he gently lowers you onto the unmade bed. Luckily, your MO is to kick off your shoes when concentrating on work, so once you release the leather attached to him, he pulls the covers over you.
He kisses your temple. “Night, Button,” he whispers like a secret, and for now, it is.
You simply sigh and turn deeper into the pillow.
Steve purposefully finds you at breakfast to ask if you’d want to get lunch with him. Yes, it would just be in the cafeteria on the lower levels, and yes, you two have already shared many meals, but in his mind, this is the actual ask, the question of ‘will you go out with me’ instead of just ‘are you hungry at this reasonable time and may I be hungry in your vicinity.’
It’s stupid, he knows. He’s anxious for your answer anyway.
Steve has a very love/hate relationship with having you essentially trapped in the Tower. On the one hand, you’re starved for interaction and the choice of your surroundings. On the other hand, he gets you all to himself. He’s ashamed of how much he enjoys that perk. Somewhere deep inside, he hopes whatever Fisk is after is never resolved, but that’s wishful—and terribly selfish—thinking.
Just in case going on a deliberate date with him isn’t offer enough, Steve can return your client’s jacket. He hung it in his locker when changing into the tactical suit. It’s safe, but he’ll get it after his debrief. That’s a good excuse. That’ll work.
You’re happy and excited, only making him more nervous, but it’s progress. He’s done ‘round noon after the long meeting scheduled to start in, yikes, fifteen minutes, and you quickly agree. Steve floats on cloud nine, bouncing his foot until dismissed so he can rush back up to you.
He isn’t expecting to see Tony in your bubble.
“You don’t know me, Stark. How dare you!” Your face twists in fury. “Screw this,” you shout, frantic in grabbing your essentials from the table. “I don’t answer to you. I don't need this. Someone else will get my things.”
Steve doesn’t understand why you won’t meet his eye or speak to him as you barrel past. He’s too stunned to follow you to the elevator, it feels imposing to race down and corner you in the lobby, but he marches up to Tony with wide eyes.
“What the hell happened?”
Tony waves him off, cagy and dismissive, rushing off upstairs to his lab, and Steve almost asks if this is about Fisk. If it’s not and he blabs, then you’ll definitely be angry at him. If he grills Tony too much, there might be something that gives away that Steve lied about having a significant other as his guest for two weeks. If Steve admits that he doesn’t even have your number, the jig is 100% up.
But he knows you have his number, he knows he still has a jacket you’ll want back, and he knows one thing he’s incredibly good at.
So Steve waits, ready to apologize, ready to grovel, ready to yell at Tony for whatever. He is just ready and waiting.
@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @darsynia
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Unconditional Kind of Love
Natasha Romanoff x Stark!Reader (afab)
Pronouns: She / Her to They / Them
Request / @mostlymarvelsstuff was my guide. 🥰
A/N: Hello angels!!! So I worked on this fic with an insider to guide me, and I just wanna be transparent here and say I did my best to navigate the struggles one goes through when in such a closeted space. But I also know, from experience, that the title non-binary isn’t one size fits all. Some afab individuals label themselves nb, go by they/them then still remain outwardly feminine as that’s how they wish to present themselves(identity and expression aren’t mutually exclusive). So, I know not everyone who is nb detests wearing dresses. I chose to just write this from the perspective of someone in an ever changing headspace. However you exist is valid, but for the sake of this fic I tried to just keep with the flow of understanding oneself/coming out.
Warnings: Coming Out (Fear/Grief)
It was a beautiful morning; the birds were chirping, likely grateful for the clear blue skies the budding Summer had afforded them. The bright sunlight was slowly filtering into your room through the cracked open blinds as time tediously passed on by. Lines of otherwise unseen dust were now illuminated as they flickered throughout the air. There was only the soft sounds of snoring as you laid there, your lover on your chest, it was relatively perfect.
There was no visible reason for you to be feeling this low, but immense dread had settled deep in your stomach as you read through an email.
Stark Charity Gala Reminder:
Hey honey, I had Happy leave a few dresses for you to try on, please let me know which one you prefer, and I’ll have it tailored to your needs.
You didn’t know how to tell him your needs were based on the disappearance of said flowy fabric…
—
Sure, you could tell him, but you were paralyzed by your fears that he’d expect it anyways. That your comfort wouldn’t come before business, so you chose not to mention it. As progressive as the world has become, you know your father works closely with some wealthy men, most of whom were up there in age; in your experience they weren’t all that big on the changing times.
This wasn’t always how you felt, but as of late, you’d really felt an aversion to the expected attire at your father’s many various events. In your day to day you could wear as you pleased, which is really just whatever attracts the least attention. Unwelcome comments on your appearance only ever made you feel more removed from reality.
Your father meant well, you know he always did, but it didn’t change the fact that he was not the most attentive person, and therefore still saw you as the little girl in tutus chasing butterflies around the garden as a nanny tended to your needs.
Which truth be told hadn’t been the case for most of your adolescence, it had only started weighing you down though in the more recent years. Everyday you woke up to have your identity invalidated in simple ways, and with that came chipped away pieces of your soul. This unsettling feeling came with the territory of being closeted, you remember it well from when you initially dealt with your sexuality, and coming out hadn’t been any easier. If anything, it’s only become harder.
To look into your aging fathers eyes, and tell him that the person he knew was never the real you was daunting, and was something that made you think suffering in silence was the better choice.
You’d already lived a long many years as Y/N Stark—Tony Stark’s eldest daughter, and you didn’t exactly know how to be anything but that in an outwardly sense. It was all a bit intimidating, and so you lived in this cycle where you would build yourself up to speak your truth, only to lose the confidence when faced with the chance.
While being so deeply in your thoughts you failed to notice the woman on your chest moving about. The beautiful woman who’s held your heart in her very hands for years now, the same one who hadn’t a clue what your inner turmoil’s were like. Natasha was as understanding as they came, you knew deep down that she’d love you all the same, but the crippling fear of rejection never allowed you to utter the words, “I’m nonbinary.”
You’d yet to even speak them aloud, instead they swirled around your brain, amongst the waves of self doubt, being swept beneath the currents of ‘It’s safer to pretend,’ and ‘We can’t lose her…’
Natasha was staring up at you with a sleepy smile, the sun had fallen over your face it allowed her to gaze into your eyes in a way she normally couldn’t. The one tone color suddenly became intermixed with complementary ones, and in the moment she thought you’d never looked more mesmerizing. But her sappy expression soon melted into one of worry the longer she stared.
“Good morning,” she raspily greeted, a smile retaking up her face as she sat up to level her gaze with yours, “What’s on your mind my love?”
In a panicked move you surged forward, hoping to use your lips to distract her from pushing further, and it seemed to work as she let you guide her backwards until she laid flat on her back. You kissed her with urgency, as if her lips were enough to heal all of your broken pieces, and in a way that is exactly what happened. The turmoil returned to its vault, where it would likely live another day unsettled, but it would be okay, just as long as you had Natasha by your side.
“Breakfast,” you hummed as you slowly pulled away from her lips, staring down at her with a cheeky grin, and flexed brows. Natasha snorted, “You should’ve woke me up then baby, let’s go!”
Once you both entered the kitchen your lover dropped your hand so she could make her way over to her first love—the Nespresso machine.
“Lady Y/N!” Thor bellowed, startling you with his sudden emergence, “Would you like a poptart?”
With a wide smile you nodded, accepting the sugary breakfast from the God, but once you turned around to face the drink counter your expression sullened, and Natasha noticed.
Natasha always noticed you. It’s been hard to keep up with you with her influx of missions, but she’d been around enough to know it’d been months since the light in your eyes faded out. In the privacy of your shared room you seemed content most days you spent together. A light flickered within your eyes in those moments. But now, it was as if you were living on autopilot as you moved through the kitchen, she watched you with a stoic mask as she sipped on her coffee.
“Squirt, can you pass your old man the salt?”
You genuinely smiled at him, and did as asked.
“Tony, are you serious? It was right there.”
“Yeah, well it was closer to her Pepper, sue me.”
There was a subtle tick in your jaw, nobody else saw it, but the redhead, also known as The Black Widow, the top spy of her generation, noticed it. A frown befell her face, one she masked with her mug as you approached her with swift steps.
“Hey Natty,” you greeted her with a kiss to her cheek, “I’m going to go take a shower, and get some work done while you’re in your meeting, but I’ll be sure to find you for lunch with Yelena.”
Natasha stopped you with a hand on your hip, she jutted her lips out expectantly, and you gave her exactly what she wanted with a soft kiss.
“Get a room!” Tony shouted with a grimace, and you chuckled against your lover, you didn’t have to see to know her hand behind your back held a middle finger up for your father to interpret.
When you walked away Natasha’s head began to spin with reasons for your dropped mood, but she came up empty and vowed to herself that she’d figure it out somehow. All she ever wanted was for you to be happy, and she would wade through hell or high water to ensure you were.
—
A grunt of displeasure left your lips as you kicked your mini wastebasket across your shared room. You were barely able to keep it together, it was clear Nat was onto you, and it’d only been two innocent in nature comments from oblivious men.
“Get it together Stark,” you grumbled before settling down at your desk to work on a project for Pepper as you’d been her assistant since Nat. A few frustrated tears stained your papers, but fortunately they only held data for you to key in.
After an hour and a half of half assed work you pushed away from your desk and waltzed into the en suite so you could finish crying it all out. You spent another half an hour under the water quietly sobbing until the heat faded into cold, then you cleaned up and clambered right on out.
In a matter of seconds you selected your outfit from your side of the closet, and slid into it. You’d settled on a pair of olive green khaki pants, with a black, button up shirt tucked into the bottoms. Your hair was slicked back, giving it a shorter appearance, and that made you feel giddy.
Yelena was expected to arrive at noon, and as you glanced at your clock you realized you only had a few minutes before, so you applied a thin layer of chapstick to your lips and made your way down to the living room where you found the pair discussing who knows what with your girlfriend.
Natasha heard your shoes scuffle against the hardwood of the hallway, her heart skipped a beat as you approached her with a reserved smile. One she would never tire of seeing, and she quickly pulled you into her side with pride as her sisters girlfriend was left to gawk at you.
“Kate Bishop, this is Y/N Stark, my sister’s long time girlfriend, and heiress of Stark Industries.”
Kate smiled nervously, hand trembling as she reached for yours, “Nice to meet you Y/N, I-wow, you look rather dapper if you don’t mind me saying so.”
Time stood still for a moment, you’d been so used to the compliments of others irking you that you weren’t used to this euphoria upon hearing something outside of the usual beautiful, or pretty. Natasha bit her tongue, she had a moment of understanding once she saw the way your eyes momentarily sparkled at the woman.
“Kate Bishop!” Yelena snarked, “Y/N is a —.”
Before the blonde could ruin the highlight of your year you raised a hand, effectively shushing her, “Thank you Kate, it’s lovely to meet you as well, you look dazzling in your sundress, it suits you .”
Natasha glared at you playfully, and you smiled back at her knowingly. “Hello gorgeous.”
“Hello my love,” she made sure not to comment on your appearance. A part of her felt guilty for not noticing the signs sooner, but it melted away as you kissed her tenderly, as if the prying eyes of hazel and chestnut weren’t right there.
“Disgusting,” Yelena gagged, “Let us go eat!”
“Ooh!” You clapped, “Where are we eating?”
Yelena hesitated to answer you, she knew your teasing would likely ensue, “Applebees…”
“Why?” You looked at the blonde with a smirk, “So you can have a Kraft kids meal?”
“What I’m ordering is none of your business!” She shouted, voice cracking as she did with her buff arms now crossed over her chest in defiance of her obvious predictability. “For your information, cyka, I love to have entertainment with my meals, you guys are too boring.”
“Oh, so the crayons do it for you?”
“Yes!” Yelena threw her hands up as if this was the most obvious answer, “There’s tic tac toe, word search, and coloring. With you two it’s just googly eyes, and talk of how work went.”
“Yelena, your girlfriend is coming too.”
“I know,” she whispered like she was telling you a classified secret, “She’s a little boring too…”
“I don’t know,” you spoke rather loudly, “Kate doesn’t seem boring to me, she seems fun!”
Yelena glared at you, then ran towards the car after shoving you into a tree. Natasha quickly helped you to your feet, raising her brow at you in subtle judgment, you shrugged. “So worth it.”
Natasha shook her head, “Yeah, until one of you kills each other, then I’m down a lover and sister.”
A smile of appreciation broke out on your face making the redheads heart flutter, for another moment in time you both just stared at each other as if the world had stopped orbiting the sun. But it was short lived as the hot ball of gas shrieked from the backseat of Nat’s corvette.
“Hey Poser! And Poser’s stupid GI Joe doll, hurry the heck up! Some of us have worked up mega appetites this morning you know?!”
Natasha looked to you in horror, but fortunately Kate was quick to quell her worries as she gingerly walked by the tree, “Yeah, we went on that five mile morning hike, I’m truly famished.”
“Slava Bogu,” Natasha murmured in relief in her mother tongue, her hand then slid perfectly into yours so she could now walk in stride with you.
(Thank God)
—
By the time the two of you returned to the compound you were exhausted. Lunch turned into a day’s worth of fun after Yelena begged the two of you to go mini golfing with them as well. As much as you enjoyed teasing the blonde, you also loved her to pieces and knew how exciting and new being in America was for her. So even if you wanted to say no, you truthfully wouldn’t. You could tell Natasha felt the same way when she looked at you for permission to agree to stay.
It was only 8pm, but the two of you snuck off to your room after hurriedly eating the stew on the stove Wanda had left for you two to reheat. After a joint shower, and a quick bedtime routine you found yourself snuggled into the redheads chest as an unwatched movie played on the screen.
The longer you laid there in her arms, replaying the day’s events while listening to the rhythmic beat of her heart the more you began to feel your anxieties melting away. Natasha had shown you time and time again that she loved you, and there wasn’t much of a question on if she’d continue to. The way she looked at you at lunch told you she knew enough, and when all she did was run her hand over yours tenderly before turning to scold her sister you knew you were giving the looming dread far too much power.
Natasha could feel your tears seeping through her shirt, but she didn’t say anything, she only held you that much tighter as she hummed a lullaby. You let out all the pent of frustration with each tear released, most directed at the world for putting you in such a predicament, some at yourself for all the years you lost hiding, and the rest for the family you still worried might leave.
“Natty?” You sniffled, “Ca-can we talk please?”
Natasha reluctantly let you out of her grasp so you could both sit up, the redhead sat against the headboard while you settled in the center of the mattress with your leg crossed over the other.
“What’s the matter my love?” Natasha’s tone was softer than normal, it also sounded like she was on the verge of tears herself, and that honestly terrified you. Maybe she was going to end things if you said what you planned to, but before you could shame spiral once again, you finally lifted your head up from your lap and looked into her glistening eyes, and you knew she wouldn’t.
“I-um,” you began to fiddle with your hands, nails picking at the sensitive cuticles until the redhead clasped her hands over yours. “It’s okay, you can tell me when you’re ready baby, there’s no rush.”
You knew that was her subtle way of saying she knew, and the fact that she wasn’t tossing you out of what used to be her room was the final confirmation you needed to speak your truth.
“I’m non-binary!” You blurted the words, and as you let them pass your lips for the first time a healing cry shortly followed. Your body racked with sobs, and Natasha pulled you into her lap.
Natasha coo’d, “I’m so proud of you baby,” she rocked you softly, and held you incredibly tight, “You’re so strong, and I’m so lucky that you trusted me with this, thank you so much baby.”
“W-we’re okay?” Your trembling voice and lip broke the redhead's heart, a tear finally fell from her eyes as she understood just how scared you were of her reaction. “Yes, we’re fine my love.”
Her lips pressed to your forehead reassuringly before they found their rightful home against yours. “You’re my soulmate Y/N, I love you for who you are, and I promise that’ll never change.”
A few beats of silence fell before anyone spoke again. “What does this change for you love?”
“I’m still figuring it all out Natty, but I,” you took in a deep breath to calm your racing heart, “I’d like to start going by they/them pronouns, and I don’t want to wear dresses to my dads stupid galas.”
Natasha chuckled softly, “That’s easy enough.”
“I don’t know how to tell him Nat, I’m scared.”
Natasha cupped your cheek, her thumb running across your cheek tenderly as she stared into your eyes. “I am with you every step of the way.” She pressed a firm kiss to your lips to seal her sentiments in completely. “I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
“What if it isn’t?”
Natasha shrugged, “It will be,” she smirked softly when you pouted. “Because, if he is anything but understanding I’ll just hack into his suits again like when he tried to say we couldn’t date.”
When you laughed unabashedly Natasha knew she’d done all that she was able to here. If Tony, or anyone for that matter, had anything negative to say when the time came, she’d handle them accordingly. For now though, all she wanted to do was hold you impossibly close, until you never questioned the strength of her love for you again.
——
2,975 Words
❤️ Kaitlyn 🥹
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff fic#natasha romanoff fluff#gxg#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#black widow imagine#black widow x reader
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