#dark tony stark | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seikkoi · 5 months

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ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ | dom!tony stark x sugarbaby!reader ( ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ!ᴀᴜ )

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ [2, 3] | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

There was nothing that could keep Tony from having exactly what he wanted—and he deserved a little sweetness in his life. All he had to do was keep from ruining you in the process.

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. non-canon, non-superhero au, sub/dom undertones, slight emotional/verbal manipulation, obsessive + possessive behavior, age gap (reader described as mid-twenties, t.s as mid-forties), mildly dubious consensual situations, explicit mentions of alcohol and drug use, generally not for the light of heart, rough sexual content, reader described as petite word count: 13k for parts 1+2 a/n: two weeks of brainrot later

The reflection in the tall store mirror looks like a mirage—an almost tangible fantasy. It’s you—enough, your eyes, nose, skin and hair. But the fabric wrapped around your body, a breath-taking sanguine hue, it distorts your perception.

You stood in silence, captivated by your own self-reflection. A delicate diamond necklace adorned your neck, its shimmer accentuating the sparkle in your eyes. You touch it delicately, trying to make the woman in the mirror feel real.

In a fleeting moment, you try not to think about the price tag on either item. Below you, the dress slits at your right thigh, stopping perfectly just before your ankles. You typically abhor dresses, frustrated by how they sit on your hips or pull on your shoulders. Yet this one felt different, as was crafted just for you, hugging your short frame.

“Do you not like it?” Tony's firm voice interrupted your reverie, seated in a plush armchair nestled in the corner of the dressing area.

His own reflection caught your eye in the mirror. He too was impeccably dressed in expense— a midnight suit that mirrored the shadowy desire in his eyes. It was only then that you noticed the crimson tie around his neck, perfectly matched to your dress. A forgotten pit in your stomach sinks further at the realization.

You weren’t here exactly by choice. You’d met Tony a few weeks ago while bartending and since then, he hadn’t left you alone. Initially, he had left his phone number scrawled on a napkin, which you promptly ignored. Such advances from inebriated, lonesome men were all too familiar— their attempts at wooing the bartender often aimed at securing complimentary drinks or borne from relationship troubles that had led them to the bar in the first place.

They all normally moved on after one night, but not Tony.

Tony came back three nights in a row after, making pass after pass, calling you doll and honey through whiskey-tinted lips. You had been polite in declining him, partly because you had googled him after a $300 tip on the second night and realized who he was (some hot-shot CEO with a few legal issues you chose not to look into). But also because, against your better judgment, a small, insignificant part of you didn't want to decline. His appearance in the bar made your night infinitely more enjoyable. Funny enough, you’re certain his charisma was so enigmatic it spread the room and raised everyone’s mood.

Unlike your typical patrons, Tony possessed an undeniable allure, an allure that kept you talking and pouring drinks—well past closing time. Perhaps because your usual patrons didn't leave extravagant tips or wear thousand-dollar watches. More likely, was how easy it was to talk to him about anything . Local politics, the nature of friendship, European art- it didn’t matter.

On top of it all, there was no denying how attractive he was—towering over you with silk ties and shiny grins. Despite whatever attraction you held, you knew better than to get involved with him. Something told you he wasn’t worth the trouble, not to mention he was almost 20 years your senior.

Still, every night ended the same, with Tony insisting he take you on just one date. You’d give a kind smile, flip the sign to closed , and craft a polite but convoluted (and reluctant) excuse. This passive resistance only seemed to encourage him, possibly because he saw through you, recognizing that tiny part of you that longed to say yes.

Maybe it’s what gave him carte blanche to wait outside on the fourth night until you closed the bar—alone.

As you stepped into the cool night air, a sleek black car glided to a halt beside you. You thought nothing of it, locking the door behind you and starting your usual, albeit long, trek home. You glanced back at the sound of the passenger window rolling down, revealing Tony leaning over the center console, a playful smile on his face. Quieting the alarm bells in your head, you offered a curt wave and resumed your stride.

As you do, Tony calls out your name, gesturing you over. At the time, you hoped all he wanted to do was exchange some small talk or maybe he left something in the bar yesterday. You couldn't fathom why you obeyed, heading towards the open window instead of heading home. Just like now, Tony's true intentions were unknown. You convinced yourself that the worst he could do was ask you out again and make things awkward.

“Miss me?” he asks with that same flashy grin. His gaze roams over your simple jeans and t-shirt, heavy enough to make you feel exposed.

“Everything okay?” You choose to ignore his question to hopefully get to the reason he’s here after hours.

Under the parking lot’s harsh fluorescent lights, Tony's disappointment shines.

"Everything's fine," he replied in a sing-song tone, reaching across to open the passenger door. "Come on, let me give you a ride home."

The alarm bells grow louder, leaving you to stammer over your words.

“That’s generous, thank you, but I enjoy the walk.” A good lie holds a little truth to it, right?

Tony does a disapproving, almost condescending tsk , patting the empty leather seat.

“Now, what kind of guy would I be if I let a pretty girl like you walk home all alone?”

Despite the rhetorical nature of his question, you struggled to resist the urge to retort, to point out that allowing you to walk home alone would make him appear rather ordinary—a quality he clearly sought to avoid.

“Really, I’m fine, thank you.” You try to sound more assertive this time, but your voice still wavers under his gaze.

Tony continues to insist, using every persuasion tactic in the book. Your mind whirled with a flurry of thoughts and possibilities. After all, he was a familiar face, a regular patron who had never made you necessarily afraid (normally quite the opposite). And a highly respected businessman. Plus, eight hours of tending bar left your feet aching. You did like the solemnity of the long walk, but tonight you were dreading it a bit more than usual.

What was the worst that could happen?

So, you inevitably gave in, watching his smirk stretch into another toothy grin as you opened the passenger door. Tony’s cologne saturated the plush leather interior, filling every corner of your nostrils with bergamot. In the dim car, you grant him a meek smile.

“That’s my girl,”

There’s an edge in his words, suddenly forcing you to wonder if you were better off walking. You tell yourself he’s a handsome billionaire doing his charitable act for the week-nothing more.

Tony reaches for the gearshift, rolling your window up and muffling the sounds of the city.

“Let’s get you home.”

The worst turned out to be not so bad—still stunned by your own beauty in the mirror.

At first, you were nearly mortified when you noticed Tony’s route doesn’t quite follow the directions you gave. With a dry throat and skipping heart, you struggled to find the right words. Tony had remained unusually silent, not making witty quips or heavy-handed compliments. It worsened your unease. One he must have sensed, glancing over at you.

“Don’t worry,” he draws out, making yet another unknown turn. “I’m taking you home— just have a surprise for you first, dear.” he finishes, winking.

The vulnerability you knew you had—getting in this car alone with him—it swelled in your throat.

Now, you stared at that same throat, adorned with shimmering diamonds.

Tony’s surprise turned out to be a private fitting at some lavish boutique you never knew existed.

You tried to protest as the car pulled into the storefront, noticing a lack of light inside and still cautious about what he had planned. Tony simply gave you a stern shush, and pointed your attention back to the building. Then, to your astonishment, the windows filled with orange and white hue. Out of the ornate glass doors, a tall, blonde-haired woman peered, and a wave of fear suddenly ebbed away from your body, only to be replaced by a flood of bewildering confusion.

The blonde woman, whose name you can’t pronounce, devotes a half hour measuring every aspect of your body. She swatched an array of dark hues and fabrics against your skin, contorted and posed you in every conceivable manner. Despite the weird, yet so far, non-hazardous situation you were in, a cloud of confusion still clung to your thoughts, while Tony remained outside the dressing room.

Even still, you felt entirely too exposed, waiting anxiously. Your only recourse was to gaze at the marble ceiling, trying to figure out what the hell Tony was playing at. He wasn’t particularly eccentric all those nights at your bar, you figured he had to be more level-headed and reasonable than this.

The woman eventually reappeared, holding the tight red dress on a satin hanger.

Leading to your mesmerized trance, still engulfed in the mirage before you.

“Hey, talking to you there.”

Startled, you had forgotten he'd even asked you a question. Hell, you had forgotten he brought you here at all. Worse, you didn’t know what to say. The honest answer was an unequivocal yes – you adored the dress, but you knew alone it cost more than you ever made bartending, not to mention the necklace.

The pit in your stomach churned at the reminder of Tony’s presence. The beauty you saw in the mirror suddenly felt ill-gotten- like a bill you hadn’t paid. Technically, you were brought here against your will by a man who you, although reluctantly, rejected. An unforeseen product of his infectious smile and your polite demeanor.

You reluctantly turn slightly to face him, trying to find the words to get out of this without escalation. A shiver ran down your spine as his molten gaze traversed your form, causing your face to warm.

“I think you look stunning.” he says, gaze still fixed on your body. It wasn’t unusual for Tony to compliment you, as he often did at the bar regardless of whatever tired, stained state you were in. This time though, with the way he’s staring, it does something else to you.

“Thank you, but,” you trail off, stealing a quick glance back in the mirror. “I–It’s a bit out of my price range.”

Tony scoffs playfully, giving a dismissive wave as he rises from the armchair.

“It’s on me.” he declared, slow and deliberate as your nerves spike.

“Really, thank you, but I can’t accept this. I should be getting home.” you stammered, attempting to keep a level voice.

Your words tumbled out in a rush, but Tony continued, making your heartbeat escalate with each passing moment.

To your surprise, he stops his advance to sigh at your anxious form.

“ You are worth a million times that dress and more.”

You avert your eyes to the floor, left again without the right words to maneuver out of this awkward conversation and trying to ignore the heat on your skin.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, doll.” Tony’s voice shifts to an unfamiliar tone, one that forces your head up.

“What’s with the whole ‘ uninterested ’ act?” he hums, resuming his walk towards you.

You stammer, trying to deny his accusation, knowing wholeheartedly he was right. Tony came to a stop in front of you, reaching out to caress your shoulder. As you instinctively recoil from his sudden touch, his calloused hand stiffened to hold you in place.

“I’m not acting .” you finally manage with a wavering voice valiantly ignoring the want and fear his touch stirred in you.

“Oh, is that so?” he taunts sourly, bringing his free hand to your waist. “Why’d you get in the car then? Why are you letting me touch you?”

You don’t have an excuse for that one, staring back at Tony in silence. You could try and hate his arrogance, but that hasn't worked so far, so no point trying now.

“Just take me home, okay?” you whisper, eyes flickering between Tony’s hand and his slightly parted lips.

He makes a face at your words, eyebrows scrunching and mouth turning into frown.

“You think I’d hurt you?” Tony sighs, offended. He releases your arm out of his grasp and steps back from you. Still, he maintains the closeness between you, still locked on your eyes.

Instantly, you feel terrible for assuming the worst. Sure, you didn’t exactly ask for any of this, and maybe he was persistent, but all he had done was give you a dress and a ride home. Tony had ample opportunity to do whatever he wanted, and you were fine. And nothing he’d said had been wrong . So what exactly were you worried about?

“No, no,” you quickly scramble, shaking your head. “I just—what do you want from me?”

Tony sighs again, this time deeply, shoving his hands into his suit pockets. “Told you—a date, that’s all.”

“Really? You’re really doing all this just to take me out?” You asked in confusion.

“You keep saying no even though I can tell you want to. ‘Figured you could use a little push.” He chuckles and a hand leaves his pockets to rake through his brown locks.

“I-I, why all this, really, come on-what are you playing at here?” You gesture to your outfit, still in disbelief.

“What can I say, I’m all about presentation and you deserve the best.” Tony grins, making his second attempt to stroke your cheek. This time, you let him, even if you're not sure why. Maybe persistence did work best on you.

Regardless, you roll your eyes at the honeyed words. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s still waiting for a yes , and you’re running out of logical reasons to decline. God knows the idea of a date with Tony Stark was something any other woman would jump at. So why not you?

“I work nights , Tony—”

“How much?” He cuts you off sharply, the hand on your face tenses ever so slightly.

“What, I don’t—”

“How much do you make in a night? Hourly, tips, everything—how much?”

You’re starting to think he enjoys confusing you. “I don’t know, it varies. Maybe $200 on a good night?”

With that, Tony turns back to the armchair his jacket rests on, and you have to ignore the way the loss of his touch makes you feel. He fiddles with the garment for a moment, rummaging through the pockets until he produces a thin leather wallet. As five crisp hundred dollar bills emerge, he struts back to you.

“Here, now you can call in tomorrow night.” He says matter-of-factly, holding out the bills.

You scoff at his audacity, feeling a bit offended at his demeanor. “I’m not some product you can just buy.”

“Oh, doll, don’t think so low of yourself,” he chuckles, “Your time is valuable, I’m just hoping this makes it easier for you to spend it with me.”

The paper is folded between his fingers, before he takes your hand and places them inside. When in doubt, fall back to basics. Money normally fixes most problems. You could have said any number and he would’ve made it happen. He was nothing short of infatuated with you- so no cost was too high.

“Fine.” You respond indignantly, staring at what’s easily half of your rent before glaring back up at him. If a date was all he wanted— fine . If he turned out to be a huge dick you’re expecting, you could leave and never speak to him again. You're certain he at least wouldn’t keep showing up at your workplace after.

“We’ll see how much longer you can keep up this act.” He smirks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Just as you're preparing to tell (lie) him again that you weren’t pretending, he walks back to the chair and takes a seat, pulling his phone from his pants pocket.

“Go ahead and change, I’ll have everything wrapped up for you to take home tonight. You can be ready by 7 tonight, yes?” Tony doesn’t look at you when he speaks, fingers typing away on the electronic screen.

He misses the eye roll you give walking back to the dressing room.

Sure enough, you make it home without any bodily injuries or traumatic experiences. Tony kisses your hand when you go to exit the car, dress and jewelry in tow. He reminds you to be ready on time tomorrow, and you enter your apartment feeling like you just walked out of a movie.

This felt entirely too insane. You found yourself more than lucky all those nights he flirted with you, but this took the cake.

It’s nearly 5 in the morning when you toss the dress onto your green couch. The half-finished canvas and paintbrushes in the corner of your living room go abandoned for another night. For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to do anything, replaying every detail in your head. Instead, you find yourself sat on the worn cushions, staring at the lilac bag, adorned with the boutique’s fancy name in silver lettering. Next to it, sits a smaller version, possessing a white box. You’re fixated on the bags, mentally picturing your reflection from earlier.

Contrary to what might Tony believe, you didn’t think of yourself as ‘low’, just maybe not genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist levels. Self-confidence wasn’t something you were lacking, but it wasn't in extreme surplus either. You didn’t know his type, but you figured odds are you weren’t it. You could imagine the kinds of girls Tony could get, with a lot less hassle, too. So, why you ?

Eventually, the sounds of your roommate waking fills the apartment, forcing you to realize it’s around 6:30 and your mind’s been taken over with purple and red hues for too long. You give a short good morning and abandon the couch for the comfort of your bedroom, deciding to save the shower for later and get some sort of rest.

You don’t answer when she asks about the bags, convinced you’ll wake up in a few hours and find this was all a weird dream.

The train rushing by your window wakes you before your alarm gets the chance, blaring its incessant tune throughout the small space. The afternoon sun diffuses through the sheer curtains, covering the room in golden light. It gives you a peaceful few minutes where you’re groggy enough to forget about Tony.

Then, the memories pour in.

The night plays back in resplendence. You don’t know he managed to get you to agree after all that. A tinge of excitement filled you alongside the dread.

You hoped last night for it to all turn out as fiction, but lo behold, the shiny bags sit atop your dresser like a bad omen. Poking out from your purse are the crisp bills. A cursory glance at your phone reveals two things— one, it’s almost 4 pm and two, a text from an unsaved number.

[ hope you didn’t forget. see u soon. ]

You wondered where on Earth he got your number.

As much as you hated feeling you owed him something, a part of you was glad you did. Although you didn’t plan on admitting it, you were into him. You were just convinced his behavior was too good to be true, a precursor to something worse. Plus it bugged you that it was apparently impossible for you to hide it from him.

Nonetheless, you rise from your bed, heading for the shower you skipped earlier and thinking of a response.

[ 9 pm right? ]

The bathroom door creaked as it opened, drowned out by the traffic on the street below.

[ are you this difficult with everyone? ]

Water spouts from the shower head as a dry chuckle echoes in the chamber at his response. You hadn’t actively dated in a while, but it was a common complaint. Normally they would say stubborn or strong-headed, but difficult worked too.

You work through several different waves of nerves and anticipation as the clock ticks down to 7. Your boss, ever an asshole, wasn’t thrilled about you calling off. It almost made you reconsider, tell Tony you couldn’t. Something told you he wouldn’t appreciate that, though, so you stood your ground with your boss instead of him and got the night off.

When the time came to slip the red dress on again, you felt off. At the store, the lighting and lavish background only added to your beauty. In the dim, run-down atmosphere of your apartment, you’re out of place, like a fraud. The browns and greens drown the shimmer on your neckline, reminding you that you had no business dating someone like Stark.

Your mind’s saving grace is the buzz of your phone, a text from the punctual Tony, arriving right at 6:58.

You expected the veil to be pulled from your eyes. Tony’s true nature, whatever that may be, would be revealed and all his charm would fade away. Clearly, something was wrong with him to go after some bartender, to go after you. The date would go sour, he would move on, and your life could continue as planned.

Instead, you end up having one of the best nights of your life.

The restaurant is indescribably out of your depth. It’s clearly a popular romantic site for A-listers, with mostly couples filling the warmly lit dining area. Everything seemed meticulously prearranged— the host leading you two towards a tucked away booth just at the sight of Tony. You're worried he’d be overly touchy and make you uncomfortable, but instead his hand rests against the small of your back as you navigate to your table.

He was nothing short of a perfect gentleman, pulling out your chair and pouring your wine. Conversation flowed just as it did at work, at least once you got your nerves out of the way. You learned a bit more about Stark Industries, even though he was clearly skipping some details for reasons you were too enamored to think about.

Occasionally during the dinner, people would come up and exchange a few words with Tony, and he always introduced you. There was something about the level of attention that just pulled you in. You had started to think you were overthinking this whole thing, that maybe something nice could come out of this. If wooing you was the goal, he was well on his way to success.

As the final bites of dessert lingered on your plate, a subtle disappointment crept in, acknowledging the inevitable conclusion of the evening. It had been an embarrassingly long time since you'd gone out for a night like this, and you wished you’d agreed sooner.

The idea of shedding the vibrant sanguine dress and returning to the routine of crafting dry martinis the next night sounded more dreadful than ever.

Yet, that’s exactly what you did.

When Tony drives back and walks you to your apartment door, you half-hope he’ll ask you on another date, and half-fear he’ll try and make a move. To your surprise and disappointment he does neither, opting instead to tell you what a wonderful time he had before departing.

You feel a bit foolish for expecting anything more, closing your door with a heavy sigh. Your roommate seems to read your emotions on your face, deciding it best not to ask why you were dressed like that.

The remaining hours of the night pass with you getting ready for bed and staving off sleep to not wake too early for work. Every so often, the urge overwhelms you to see if Tony texted. Teeth brushed— no text, shower—nothing, late night popcorn snack—nope. Every time you look, you grow more annoyed, feeling like some sort of teenage schoolgirl.

By the time your head hits the pillow, you’re close to desperation.

When you wake, it doesn’t take a few minutes for Tony to come to mind. He’s the first thing you think of. You groan in frustration when your notifications disappoint you again. Two texts from your roommate about her night out, a missed call from a friend, and a few emails, but no Tony.

You really do try to make it through the afternoon without thinking about him. You fail regardless, spending every second of the day consumed by bergamot and red. The one thing that keeps you from reaching out first is the certainty you’ll see him this evening. He’ll saunter in, order a single malt and overpay. The script unfolds in your mind—engaging conversations that span the night, and it’ll end with another pass made your way. This time, you won’t hesitate to say yes.

The hours at work tick by painfully as you wait for him to show up. For the first time, you’re doing terribly at work. Wrong servings are poured as your eyes bounce between the bar's entrance and the mocking hands of the clock.

Inevitably, you switch the sign to closed . A sliver of hope remains, hinged on the small chance he could appear outside as he did before. And still, he doesn’t.

Self-doubt starts to overtake you. Maybe you said the wrong thing, or did something abnormal that made him suddenly change course.

Once you're home, your resolve breaks, and you open the messages app in an act of desperation.

[ thanks again for the other night ]

As soon as you hit send, you’re convinced it’s single-handedly the stupidest text ever sent. Before you can think of what to add on to repair it, your phone buzzes.

[ not a problem ]

[ i had a good time, nice place ]

[ miss me already huh ]

[ who said anything about that? ]

[ thought you weren’t interested, but look whos texting me ]

[ yeah, to say thx ]

[ you said that when i dropped you off. gonna have to try harder doll ]

How did someone so arrogant manage to have you swooned?

[ fine. maybe i did. ]

[ see, was that so hard? ]

With a huff, you crawl into bed. You weren’t the romantic type by any measure. Your romantic philosophy entailed waiting for the right person to come into your life. Naturally, you assumed what everyone said was true—that’d you know the one when you saw it. In the case of Tony, it wasn't a lightning-strike love at first sight, but rather a rapid realization that there was an intangible something about him. Excluding the early worries over his intentions, he spread this sense of ease throughout you whenever he was around.

On Tony’s side, it was more akin to obsession at first sight. He’d had decades of escapades under his belt, all incomparable to you. A limited edition, one of a kind, breathtaking woman he knew he couldn’t let slip away.

You were a fresh breath of air in his world of tragedy. People in his sphere were usually tainted by it, but not you. You didn’t have some preconceived, inflated notion of him. He was happy to recognize the mutual attraction. Unfortunately for him, you being from outside of his world meant losing you if you found the wrong information at the wrong time.

He felt you deserved a life without the grime and troubles of everyone else. He just knew that’d only be possible with him . He just had to keep a few things from you for a little while. Long enough for you to be too committed to leave.

Tony learned at a young age that planning is the key to everything, so that’s precisely what he does.

The lack of interaction was a purposeful step on his part, only partially. There was little fun in biting back the urge to talk to you again, to kiss you goodbye at the door, but he knew it was the best method to have you hooked. Originally, he meant to visit the bar once more tonight, see if your face brightened up when he walked in. That plan is foiled by an unmovable meeting, which keeps him occupied until close. You just happened to beat him to the text.

For you, the date served as a testament that he wasn't some idealized, too-good-to-be-true fantasy. It wasn't a dream; it was a tangible reality and you found yourself unwilling to let it slip away. The initial worries had given way to what you prayed was something genuine.

[ so do u often take people on one date then ghost or is it just me? ]

[ doll, i don’t bore myself or waste my time with people i don’t enjoy. ]

[ i’m sure there’s better options for you ]

[ not better than you ]

[ hows that? ]

[ i’ll tell you if you agree to see me again ]

In the dark of your room, the message illuminates your face, stirring the anticipation in your gut. This is what you wanted, the perfect opportunity.

[ deal . ]

From then on, you and Tony find yourselves going out a few times each week. Whether it's another intimate dinner or museum, Tony consistently showers you in gifts—ranging from exquisite jewelry to coveted concert tickets. He makes jokes about making even more grandiose gestures, like moving you to a better neighborhood or getting you a car so you don’t have to walk home at night. Despite the overwhelming generosity, you can't help but feel weird at the unfamiliarity of it all, lamenting that they aren’t necessary (though you never admit how much you were beginning to love it).

Nonetheless, Tony remains steadfast in reassuring you, emphasizing that the smile on your face is worth any amount. There’s little doubt to this, given he hasn’t made a move beyond kissing your cheek a few times. You’d like to think someone with ill-intentions would move a bit faster.

His charismatic nature continues, enveloping you in a world of affection and companionship beyond your wildest expectations. He treats better than you could ever fathom, and asks for seldom in return. Stark handles every detail, every direction providing you with much needed mental relief.

The thing you’re most grateful for is the ease of it all. It’s easy to indulge in him, to agree to his few, but necessary stipulations ( don’t spend my money poorly , answer when I call , be honest with me , etc. etc.) They were much milder, and more enjoyable, than ones you had in past relationships. Your most recent ex? He’d ask for a photo of your timecard from work, paranoid you were sleeping around.

However, it takes a while for you to shake off the nagging suspicion that he’s just playing the long game. Your relationships had often ended in emotional horror for at least one side, and you dreaded a repeated end. Gradually, though, you feel more secure, even as he pulls you more and more out of your comfort zone.

Although it didn’t really help you understand where his money came from, he brought you along to company dinners and fundraisers. These outings, while a testament to the serious nature of his work, become less enjoyable for you. Mostly because Tony’s line of work seemingly employs nothing but the most annoying of the 1%.

He has a terrible habit for making you feel like (and dress you like) fine art. Yet, amid a room of stunning women with envious glares directed at you and Tony, you feel like second-rate trash, despite the arm draped on his meant to signify your belonging. It didn’t help that at the end of the day you and Tony never put a name to what you were, and you had no idea who he was with when you were apart.

It doesn’t harm the connection too much for you, but it does lead to your first argument after a blissful first month.

Truthfully, it’s mostly your fault. You’d gotten a bit more than jealous at some socialites' snide remarks about Tony being with someone so young and ‘rudimentary’, as she deemed. You blame the alcohol for tossing your drink in her face. Tony had warned you before about keeping positive appearances, but oh well. Vodka has a tendency to do nefarious things.

The entire car ride back, Tony gets a number of phone calls, leaving you the sinking feeling you’ve angered the wrong person. There’s something semi-terrifying on every inch of his face as he talks in terms you don’t understand. The calls don’t stop until long after you make it back to the tower. You’re seated on a leather couch in his office, anxiously preparing your explanation for what happened.

At the end of what he hopes is the last call, he turns to you. The look in his eye disintegrates whatever words you had mustered together.

“What were you thinking?” he asks harshly, but with a low tone as if he’s trying not to sound as pissed as he truly was.

“Tony, I didn’t think it would-”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, holding his hand up in a quieting manner. There’s a few beats of silence, where you’re wretched with guilt, not even knowing fully what you did wrong.

“My associates are not people to mess with, honey. You need to be able to control yourself. Your little show almost ruined a deal I’ve been working on for months.”

“My little show ? You didn’t hear what she was saying and how was I supposed to know-”

“That’s my mistake for expecting you to have thicker skin than that.” Tony reprimands, his eyes reflecting an anger that leaves a mixed feeling in your gut. .

“You’re right, next time a woman starts talking about how better off you’d be with someone else, I’ll go ahead and give them your number. God knows you live for the fucking attention.” you retort, tears of frustration burning in the back of your eyes as you stand to head for the elevator.

Tony moves from his spot in the middle of the room to cut you off, blocking your path out.

“If you’re gonna act like a jealous brat, at least have the guts to admit it. Don’t try and make it about me.” His voice keeps its edge, standing close enough to force you to look up to meet his eyes.

He’d never been so much as annoyed by you, and the anger in his dark irises was unbearable. Behind the darkness is something else, a heat that trails down your lips. Still, the sourness in the room is enough to make you repentant.

“I,” you sigh, averting his eyes to stare at your heels. “I’m sorry, okay?” Your voice is small and shameful under his gaze.

Tony’s hand meets the bottom of your chin, tugging your head back up.

“Look at me.” he says sternly, and you’re reminded of the boutique that feels lightyears in the past. The touch twists your shame cruelly into a tight knot.

At the sight of your watering eyes, his expression softens. A flared temper had been a life-long condition, but his last wish was letting it off on you. There was something about the way you underestimate your value to him, it makes him want to stop holding back—show you just how badly he needed you. He’d done a piss poor job of keeping you isolated from this side of his life, but it couldn’t be undone, and you needed to be able to handle it. And a sobering part of you knew you were overreacting, at least a little bit.

“You can never do something like this again, are we clear?”

You nod, taking a deep breath. A calloused thumb strokes your face, rendering every word he said null.

“That’s my girl.”

It reassured you that this had to be a one-off situation-a unique, heat of the moment event that caused everyone to act out of character, not just him.

In the morning, the full weight of his words hits you like a brick wall. You do a bit of mental gymnastics on yourself, flipping between blaming yourself for Tony’s reaction and blaming him for behavior. Ultimately, at the battle’s end, you let the blame reside with you.

The next few weeks are a return to your new normalcy, turning any thoughts of ending things unnecessary. Aside from that night, Tony’s allure didn't stop, and it became safe to say you were falling, rapidly. You texted and called nearly constantly whenever you weren’t together, not that Tony seemed to mind at all (it helped that he was never far from his phone). It was clear Tony did all he could to make your outings last longer, but eventually one of you (typically Tony) absolutely has to head home.

You’re left with a somber emptiness every time, waiting to see Tony to feel whole again. The level of care you were showered in was, well, addictive. There was enough to ignore the ambiguity surrounding whatever your relationship was, and what his life was like outside of you. Trust wasn’t exactly your strong suit, so an occasional strife happens whenever you think about it too long. It still tested his patience, and resolve, irately wishing you’d take him at his word just once.

Something poetic could be said about rose-colored glasses and red flags.

One spring night, the rain grows far beyond what Tony’s outdoor plans can accommodate. Not wanting to cancel, he moves the date to an art gallery. There’s no hiding your excitement, and Tony expected as much. He was saving this location for another time, but you sound far too happy on the phone to regret it.

Unsurprisingly, the night goes just as fantastic as any other with Tony. You loved art in nearly any form, and dreamed of creating pieces worthy of hanging in a gallery. This one though, is unlike any you’ve ever seen, a high-ceiling bright open space, with prices starting in the six figures.

They’re all worth the price to you, elaborate shapes and colors sitting in huge antique frames. Like any other night, he occasionally slips away for a phone call, or you’ll turn to see him typing away another email or memo. It’s not frequent enough to bother you, and either way you accept it as an occupational hazard of seeing someone like him. Besides, you were too busy enjoying the art to care.

Tonight though, you feel bold enough to dig into it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Tony pocket his phone for the fourth time in a half hour, striding back over to you with a grin. You were transfixed by the painting in front you, having stared at it for the last fifteen minutes. It was a mirage of playful colors, swirling and fading down to a dusky abyss. Two faint abstract shapes floated in the gradient, seemingly intertwined and bursting outwards. You’re certain Tony will give you grief for fawning over what probably looked like kindergarten work.

“I could just buy it for you, then you could stare at it all day.” he taunts once he’s in ear shot, looping his arm through yours.

You laugh back at him, resuming your slow stride through the rest of the quiet gallery.

“It’s like eight feet tall, no way it’s making it up my stairs in one piece.” you laugh, “You absolutely have to buy something for yourself, though. Something that, y’know, inspires you.” you say playfully, stopping to get a better look at another piece.

“You are the only muse I need.”

He plants a kiss on your forehead when you roll your eyes at his saccharinity, letting you slip away. You really were all the motivation he needed, especially if you kept wearing tight black skirts like the one you're wearing now. When you finally turn back to him, his hands are occupied again, typing away incessantly.

“What kind of company do you run that they can’t survive without you for a few hours?” you taunted playfully. You’d idly clicked your heels on the dark stone floor, studying the machinations of his face, trying to get a sense of what transpired in his head.

The phone is switched off in his hands, abandoned in his pocket before beaming at you.

“A very important one.” he drawls, circling the soft skin behind your exposed collarbone with his fingertips. The padded digits trail around in random shapes, inkling up your neck slowly.

“But I have recently taken on a new,” Tony pauses, still drawing northward to caress your face. “-endeavor, that’s requiring a lot of attention right now.”

“A new endeavor?” You really try to act interested, but his touch sends shivers down your back. A subtle graze on the soft corner of your mouth becomes the most sensual touch in the past two months (and you weren’t expecting it here of all places). You, permanently apprehensive of scaring him off, never made a move to progress things physically, no matter how much you thought about it.

He says something else your brain can’t be bothered to process, giving a final circle on your cheek before meeting your eyes. “But, my attention should be on you, honey.”

Your mouth is suddenly painfully dry, clearing your throat before responding with a forced laugh.

“You’re fine, I was just prying.”

Tony reassures you softly, “Nothing wrong with that.” giving you one of those toothy smiles that makes your head a bit light, especially with his closeness. “But only if you listen when I answer.”

You chuckle at being discovered, shaking your head slightly.

“Sorry, zoned out for a second.”

“Well, doll, you missed an invitation to Los Angeles, gonna have to pass that on to someone else I’m afraid.”

He shrugs his shoulders defeatedly when you scoff and swat his shoulder.

“Had you been listening , you would have heard that I’ve just been made partner in new company, and there’s supposedly a very nice celebration happening this weekend.”

It takes a beat for you to fully process the short time frame.

“So, you should definitely come.” The matter-of-fact tone he uses breaks your stunned state with a laugh.

“Unlike you I cannot just go to California for a weekend-”

“Aht!” He intercepts, smiling. “I recall two hours ago, a certain someone told me she was off Friday and Saturday, therefore, you can just go to L.A., this one weekend.”

Now, that was very true, and put you in quite the predicament, stammering at his growing smile until you finally found an excuse.

“I don’t have a valid ID.” you say proudly, crossing your arms.

“I have a private plane.” he responds pointedly.

“I’m terrified of airplanes.”

“That’s a lie.” he laughed, resting his hands on your hips. “What is the problem with taking a trip with me? Is it LA? Cause I can just ask for it to be moved—”

“No, no,” you gave a disheartened laugh and sighed, “It’s just, I don’t know, a lot?”

“California’s pretty normal these days-”

“Okay, okay. Just what is your end goal here? With all this?” The incessant question in the back of your head, which you hoped didn’t cause another instant implosion.

“What do you mean?” Unbeknownst to you, Tony knew precisely what you meant, from the countless conversations, and had a very concrete answer, but there was some enjoyment in stonewalling you.

“I mean you’re always trying to do insane things like trying to fly me across the country but you haven’t even so much as kissed me getting kind of confused-”

“Would kissing you get you to go to L.A. with me?” Tony cuts off your exasperated tangent, laughing softly.

You roll your eyes, bracing your arms by your side, preparing to walk away. Tony senses he might benefit from a moment of seriousness and stops you with a hand on your wrist and quick spoken apologies.

“Having you on my arm is more than enough for me, doll. If you want more, that’s up to you.” This was by no means new information to you. He’d given similar reassurances to you, none which seemed to ease you for long.

“So, answer the question, would that get you to go?” Tony pushes, leaning towards you.

“Probably.” You wish he didn’t have this effect on you so easily, but the words barely manage to register above a whisper.

For your admission, you're rewarded with the taste of bourbon on your lips as his hand abandons your arm to rest under your chin. His teeth graze the skin of your bottom lip, stubble tickling your chin. When he pulls away, he can’t help smirking at your dazed look. Really, Tony dreamed of doing a lot with you, but saw no need to rush. Especially since every light touch so far left you a flustered mess.

“We’ll leave early Friday morning, you can sleep on the plane, sound good?”

You don’t have a reason to protest anymore.

After Tony drops you off, he decides to get something for future you. The colorful painting finds a new home, wrapped in an empty room at the tower, shelves lined with blank canvases and paint.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ ʜᴇʀᴇ

#mcu fanfiction #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark smut #marvel fanfiction #tony stark x you #dark tony stark #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #seikkoiwrites

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winterspiderpurrs · 6 months

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Okay but Dark Dr. Strange going through the multi verse to find a Peter Parker to replace his that died.... running into Superior Iron Man doing the same thing...

And they have their eyes on the SAME Peter Parker....

#writing prompt #starker #starkerstrange #spiderstrange #stark x strange #strangespider #ironspider #tony stark/peter parker #sim tony #dark stephen strange #dark tony stark #winterspiderpurrs

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fotibrit · 8 months

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It took tony a long time to figure it out. He had invented time travel soon after getting back on earth, no biggie (hearing your own son beg for mercy while he turns to dust tends to serve as fantastic motivation to go back and save him. who would have guessed).

The thing is… how to save him? He could go back and take out Thanos early, maybe. But if Tony was meddling with time, he wanted to save Peter from everything, from all the pain that was avoidable.

He wanted to make sure Spider-Man never met the cause of all his future problems, the cause of his demise. He had to make sure Spider-Man retired before he ever met the younger Tony Stark, before he ever stepped foot in a German airport.

So, in 2015, a 52 year old Tony Stark appeared on the streets of New York City, freshly shaven and nearly unrecognizable, but loaded with discrete tech that would help with his plan. He promptly stole a bike and waited for the web-slinger to come get him, going over the plan in his head.

Injure, don’t kill. Scare, don’t kill. Scare him off, so he never wants anything to do with vigilantism ever again. Scare him off, so he can live a normal, happy life. Scare him off, so that Tony never gets the privilege of ruining his life with Tony’s presence.

The man who loved him like a father and would do anything to keep him safe, would do anything… including make sure he could never be an avenger again. Peter Parker was about to meet his arch nemisis.

#tony stark #iron man #irondad and spiderson #peter parker #spider man #spiderson #irondad #marvel mcu #avengers #peter parker and tony stark #irondad fic ideas #dark tony stark

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lanyakea-universe · 9 months

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Iron Man wasn't a hero, and that's precisely why the Avengers sought so diligently to capture him. But it seemed that the man behind the mask was always a step ahead of them, and their many failures were like good old jokes the villain couldn't get enough of. He was destructive, anarchic and mischievous. Steve knew he had to stop him at all costs before his technology affected more than just their city.

His vision changed in spite of himself when, one day, just as Steve was about to enter a burning building headlong to seek out the last citizens to evacuate, he witnessed the massive Iron Man armor emerge from the flames, holding a small bundle in his arms.

A tiny baby with a soot-stained face, wrapped in a half-burnt blanket, bawling pathetically against the heat and lack of air.

He saw the tiny shifting of the armor as Iron Man cradled the baby, his full attention riveted on this defenseless little being. He saw Iron Man gently place his mettalic fingertip against the baby's lips, so that the toddler could suck on it and soothe himself.

Steve lowered his shield, flabbergasted by the sight. Before his eyes was living proof that his beliefs were wrong: Iron Man was not the monster he'd imagined.

The man in the armor straightened up and turned his head in his direction. "The baby needs help, Cap."

#sim tony stark #evil tony stark #dark tony stark #Steve Rogers #tony stark #stony #steve/tony #steve rogers/tony stark #steve x tony #peter parker #baby peter #baby Peter parker #tony stark has a heart

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springdandelixn · 1 year

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With Flying Colors

Summary: Your excitement about being an intern at Stark Industries turns into a nightmare you weren’t prepared for.

Warnings: 18+ content, noncon, unprotected sex, bondage, manipulation, age gap (reader is legal), power imbalance, some use of drugs, reader is smart af but also painfully oblivious, not all things that glitter are gold.

Characters: Dark!Professor!Tony Stark x F!Reader

A/N: This fic is my entry to @ironlady1993‘s I love you 3000 dark! writing challenge 2022. I’ve chosen the trope Professor/Student with Tony and F!Reader. It has been such a joy to write this and to write Tony once again. Also tagging one of my babies, @fictive-sl0th

p.s. Belated Happy Birthday to you, my dear.

Side note: The Avengers do not exist in this universe—yet.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope you guys enjoy! ❤️

“See me after class.”

You swallow thickly and nod at Professor Stark’s words when he passes you, your head bowed down as embarrassment and nervousness mix within your veins for you’re the only one who hasn’t gotten their final paper back. You try to peek up, seeing the array of frowns and smiles on your classmates’ faces while they stare at their thesis, and you don’t understand why yours was singled out.

Seeing the professor after class, especially with Professor Stark, was never a good sign. You’ve once seen Maya run out of the lecture hall before, crying after he gave such detailed comments on her essay during the midterm exam. And you don’t doubt that you’re the next in line to receive the brunt of his tactlessness.

But you know to yourself that you’ve done your research right. You’ve cited all your resources at the back of the page and made a thorough review of all the points you’ve made about Vibranium. Yes, it was a big leap for a simple engineering student to study but you were confident with your work, and passionate even about how such an element can reshape the future.

So you just don’t understand why he hasn’t returned your paper.

“For those who passed, don’t forget that if you wish to enroll in my advanced class for senior year, application forms can be found on the school’s website.” Your professor calls as he makes his way back to the front. “And to those of you who have failed, forget about seeing me for re-dos or considerations. My office will be closed for such nonsense because my decision is final. Dismissed.”

Sighs of resignation resound throughout the room as the students pack their things and file out. You stuff your laptop back in your bag and stand, eyes looking at the door then over at Professor Stark while he stacks a couple of papers in his hand and stows them in his briefcase. You swallow thickly and make your way to the front, wishing to be one of the students to be leaving, closing up the chapter of this course.

You stand beside a desk at the front and wait for your professor at his table, hands fiddling in the pocket of your hoodie and feet anxiously shuffling against the tiled floor. There’s a subtle smile on Professor Stark’s face when he glances up at you, waiting for the door to close before he faces you completely, the grin turning full on his lips.

“Please, sit.”

You do.

He rounds his desk and leans against the edge, a file in his hands, the pages flipping against his fingers. You gulp hard, a nervous tick you’ve grown to have, when he looks at you once again, and you look down at the desk of the seat when he places the folder atop it.

“You might be wondering why I asked to speak with you.” He starts and you simply nod in response, the questions you wanted to ask dying on your tongue. “Well, I’m not here to scold you, if that’s what you’re worried about. In fact, I’m here to praise you.”

“I—I’m sorry?”

“Your paper, sweetheart, was the best one out of the entire class.” He nods towards the folder on the desk and you startle. Slowly, you open it up, and your eyes grow wide when you see the mark written in red at the top right corner.

You’re lost for words.

“You passed. More than that, you got a perfect mark.” You hear his smile and you can’t help but feel the corners of your lips slowly lift. You got a perfect mark! “Your research on how vibranium can reshape the future was very riveting.” He praises. “All your notes and the detailed analysis you constructed to make it respond to brain waves just blew my mind.” You look up at him, a wide smile now kissing your lips.

“I—I thought it was mediocre at best.” You confess. “I didn’t think—”

“But you did, sweetheart, and a lot of it.” He chuckles, his arms crossing over his chest and his head tilting to the side as he looks at you. “Although that’s not why I asked for you to see me.”

You blink, confusion filling your senses. Why else would he want to speak with you?

“Have you gotten a chance to find a place for your internship?” He asks.

You shake your head.

“Why not?”

“I’m only a junior, professor. I was hoping to get one next year.”

“But you are aware you can get one even as a junior, right?” He looks at you expectantly and you nod once again. “Perfect! How would you like to do a summer internship at Stark Industries? I could really use someone like you.” He beams and you gawk at him in disbelief. “Of course, it will be paid.” He starts once more. “The company offers its employees free meals for the day and some recreation to let off some steam from work. We can even provide for your lodging since the campus is pretty far from the company and it would save you some time from the New York rush.”

Did he just offer you an internship at his company? Stark Industries is known to be one of the leading technology companies in the world, which your professor owns, and he’s personally offering you a slot within his ranks. This couldn’t be real.

“T—That’s very generous of you Mr. Stark.” You fumble, the nervousness from earlier having already seeped out from your bones, leaving you stunned yet excited at the opportunity that is being presented to you. “I don’t know what to say, professor.”

“You can start by saying ‘Thank you, Mr. Stark.’ and end with ‘I would gladly accept your offer.’” He chuckles and you can’t help but mimic him, amused at his tenacity.

You want to think about it, to weigh the options you have in your hand. But you don’t really have anything to consider, you haven’t even begun looking for an internship. Yet, your professor is already offering you one, probably even the best one, and would you really turn away from the window? Out of all the students in his class, he chose you. Not Brandon who is a super fan of his work or even Alyssa who’s basically a show-off just to grab your professor’s attention. You.

And working for Stark Industries would no doubt boost your chances of finding another company that’s equally respectable. A big stepping stone to set your career on becoming an engineer on its course.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” You echo, a soft smile on your lips. “I would gladly accept your offer.”

“Beautiful.” Professor Stark grins, pushing himself away from the desk and walking back behind it to gather his things. You stand, all the same, picking up the folder with your thesis and tucking it between your arms and chest. “I’ll give the go signal to our HR and have them email you the details for your first day.”

“Thank you again, professor.” You thank him once more, feeling elated at the sudden turn of events.

He snaps his briefcase close and faces you. “No. Thank you, sweetheart. I can’t wait for you to join us.” He says, finishing off with a wink, chuckling at the playful act before walking with him out of the lecture hall.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you haul the final box into your new apartment. You weren’t really planning on taking up Professor Stark’s offer of free lodging but after being almost 30 minutes late on your first day and struggling to get into the subway during the rush hour, you caved and took on the perk, giving up your slot in the campus dormitories and packing up your things, never to see the cramped box space again.

And after seeing how spacious the provided lodging was during the tour on your first day; a two-bedroom unit with an open-concept kitchen attached to the living room, the master’s complete with an en-suite and a walk-in closet and even a balcony that oversees the New York skyline, you mentally cursed yourself for not agreeing immediately.

You could have saved all the time you used for moving and focused on your tasks in the company. Though you’re thankful for Professor Stark’s aid; giving you a couple of days off to pack and hiring movers to help you, though you couldn’t help but feel too indebted to him. Offering you the job and then helping you move, you’ll just have to pay it off by working extra hard on your internship. Prove to him that all the decisions he's made so far with you are worth it.

You close the door and begin unpacking the last box; some textbooks and sentimental memorabilia to decorate the shelves in the living room. You place a photo of your mom and dad on the side table at the end of the couch, a small smile playing on your lips as you think of how proud they would be of you once you tell them of your latest achievement.

One by one, you slide the books into place and stop short when you hear a knock on the door. Sitting the stack in your hand on the coffee table, you make your way to the front room and look through the peephole, your brows furrowing when you see a tall, stout man with curly hair, donning a tuxedo, on the other side, a bottle of, what you suspect to be, champagne in one hand and a bouquet in the other.

Who’s that? You ask yourself and let out a breath, unlocking the door and poking your head through the open space, blinking up at the stranger.

“Can I help you?” You ask.

He doesn’t respond, simply looking at you with a stoic expression yet his eyes seem to be judging you all the same. You want to close the door and hide but you don’t want to be rude either. Just when you’re about to ask once more what he needed, he holds out the flowers and the bottle to you.

“I’m sorry but you must have the wrong—”

“Compliments from Mr. Stark.” The man interjects, voice monotone and expressionless.

“Oh. Okay.” You say. Stunned. You take the gifts from his hold and your eyebrows knit in confusion when the man turns and leaves without another word, giving your thanks to the air instead.

You close the door with your foot and walk over to the kitchen to drop the items on the counter. The bottle, as you guessed, is champagne, and not the cheap kind either as you eye the label. Don Perignon. And the flowers, there seem to be almost two dozen roses in the bundle, leaning over and taking in its fragrance. Fresh.

You pick up the card nestled in the petals, carefully flipping it open, and recognizing the cursive letters of your professor’s handwriting.

‘Sorry I wasn’t there to welcome you on your first day, sweetheart. But rest assured I will be present to officially welcome you to the company. Have a glass of champagne for me. —T.’

You knew your professor came from old money—the history of Stark Industries is no secret to the public—but you never imagined he’d spend such things on you, one of his measly students in the university. And yet what lays before you is a piece of his wealth and you feel a slight sense of trepidation creeping up your spine if you were to mishandle such gifts.

Grabbing the bottle, you tuck it in a safe spot on the kitchen counter before rummaging through the cupboards for a vase to put the flowers in. Once you’ve placed the bouquet on the coffee table in the living room, you set back to unpacking the rest of your boxes, your eyes darting to the flowers every once in a while as the scent of the blossoms invades your senses and slowly fills the entire apartment.

The door beeps and slides open after scanning your badge on the pad. You’ve only been in the company for a week and still, the advancement of all the facilities takes your breath away. You walk to your desk, eyes blinking when you see a stack of folios ready for you to dive in. It’s not what you really wanted to do when you thought of your internship but it’s definitely something you expected.

All careers would render any individual to start from the ground up. To learn how the company works and how each department functions. And if you were being honest with yourself, you don’t really mind doing such a mundane task in the most prestigious company in the entire world.

Setting your purse on the desk, you take your seat and grab the first folio from the stack, determined to finish each one before lunchtime. But before you can even begin, a nudge on your chair takes your attention away from your task and you blink in surprise when you Professor Stark looking down at you, a coffee cup in each hand.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?”

“Professor—I,” You blink, words stuttering, still bewildered at his sudden appearance. “I’m filing the expense reports for accounting.”

“Yes, I can see that. But what I meant was why are you doing that?”

“Oh, it’s what Ms. Potts assigned to me.” It’s the truth but with the way your professor’s lips slant, you feel you’ve made a mistake by mentioning it. “I don’t mind it—it’s nice to know the business from the ground up.” You add, an attempt to soften any blow his assistant would get.

“But this is not what I wanted you here for.” His voice sounds serious and you scramble to get the coffee cup he hands you before lifting his watch towards his lips. “J, tell Pepper to find a replacement here on the accounting floor and to have her meet me in my office later at noon.” Professor Stark turns back at you, giving you a full smile, taking a sip from his cup, and gesturing for you to stand. “Come on, chop-chop.”

You do as you are told and grab your purse, following him out of the office and through the halls toward the elevators.

“Where are we going, Professor?” You can’t help but ask when he presses the up button, shoving a hand in his pocket as he sways on his heels while waiting.

“Why sweetheart, I’m taking you to the best place in the entire building.” He responds with a grin and gestures for you to enter the lift first when the metal doors part.

Professor Stark wasn’t lying when he said that he was taking you to the best place in the entire building for his lab was indeed an engineer’s, or pretty much anyone else’s, dream. His AI, JARVIS, greeted you as soon as you stepped off the lift, startling you in the process. Though you can’t help but feel amazed at how lifelike he was despite the absence of a physical form, for his voice alone exuded emotions and understanding, making you smile when he and Professor Stark began to banter playfully.

The hologram interface that scattered throughout the room was another feature that took your breath away. How the supposedly inanimate pixels suddenly come bursting to life with one flick of a hand from your professor, how he easily manipulates it, and from further observation, he’s got complete control of it with the help of his watch and a simple silver bangle on his other wrist.

He toured you around, showing off his projects that despite being incomplete, look immaculate for someone of your status. The robots that come following the both of you as you walked around the lab made you elicit a soft giggle, loving how responsive and lifelike they were with their reactions to each action done by their creator.

But what really has you standing in awe is the full metal suit laying atop a metal desk, with electrical wires attached to it from the ceiling and a holographic chart showcasing its readings on the side. You stand close, seemingly becoming hypnotized by its beauty. You run a finger against the metal arm, the cool surface chilling your skin yet weirdly warming you all the same.

“I call it Iron Man.” Professor Stark says as he stands beside you, looking down at the coffee cup in your hand when he takes it and discards it in a nearby bin. “A fully functional armored suit, furnished with the latest weaponry that I made myself.” A grin forms on his lips when you look up at him. “It’s currently under testing but still top secret so—” He places a finger over his lips and your eyes grow wide in surprise at the information.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Professor!” You blanch and quickly turn away, taking a step back to have the suit out of your view. “I promise not to tell anyone of—”

“Relax, sweetheart.” He chuckles and walks over to you, his hands resting on your upper arms, giving them a light squeeze. “This is exactly why I brought you here, why I wanted you to be here.” He says with a smile.

“Y—You want me to test your suit?” You’re not claustrophobic but the thought of being inside such a tight space makes your heart beat faster.

“Heavens no.” He laughs and squeezes your arms again before sliding his hands down the length of it and taking your hands in his, Professor Stark walking backward and leading you back to the suit. “I wanted to try and turn the suit completely into vibranium. I’ve tested this baby out so many times and don’t get me wrong, it’s very durable but after taking a couple of hits, it needs to go back into the shop. But with vibranium, this would be the most indestructible piece of engineering on the planet.”

“You want me to make you a full vibranium suit?” You ask.

“I want you to make it with me.” Professor Stark corrects, releasing your hand and giving the arm of the metal suit a pat. “Even more, to embed the element into nanotech and have it respond to a single neurotransmitter.”

You gape at him in disbelief. You’ve only known such a feat to be a theory and that each person that has attempted to create such a thing has done everything and still failed. Yet your professor is asking you to make one with him, something you’ve only ever read about in articles and have never even tested on your own. Hell, you’ve never even seen vibranium with your own eyes.

You look into his eyes, brown orbs full of sincerity then glance down at the suit. So much doubt begins to run around your head, the fear of failure creeping up your spine all the same. Deep down, you want to do it, you want to try but the lingering thought that you would fail at this project, fail your mentor, won’t leave you alone and you’d rather do the paperwork down at the accounting floor than mess up a top-secret asset of your professor, who is also now your boss.

“I don’t know, professor.” You sigh and pull your hands from his grasp. “The scale of work has only been theorized and the tests that have been done have all failed. I wouldn’t want to waste any resources you’d give me.” Your lips curl into a frown as you look up at him. “I can assist you if you wish but to be the one to create it? I don’t think I can. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“But I believe you can and you can never disappoint me, sweetheart.” He smiles at you, your skin shivering when he runs his fingers up your arms, hands gripping down on your shoulders. Your eyes grow wide when he takes a step closer, your bodies only inches apart. “I’ll be here to guide you and if we fail, we try again. And again and again, until we perfect it. And once we do, you’ll have your name written in the history books—well, with my name along with it, of course.” He chuckles and you can’t help but smile at his playfulness.

“So? What do you say?” He grins, his fingers tapping along your shoulders as he keeps his eyes on you.

Your university had once coined Professor Stark as one of the smartest people in this generation. And if your professor has such faith in your capabilities, maybe you are capable of accomplishing such an extraordinary feat. He’s there to guide you, either way, he said so himself, and if you do fail, at least you can tell yourself that you tried.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes to clear your thoughts. When you open them once again, you see the shine in Professor Stark’s eyes, the expectation in them.

You nod. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl.” He grins widely, your face going hot when he leans over and places a kiss on your forehead.

The act takes you by surprise, making you step back and have his hands slide from your shoulders. You look up at him, eyes wide, stupefied, yet your professor seems unbothered by his intrusion into your personal space.

“Sir, I’d just like to remind you of your meeting with Ms. Potts at noon and it’s already 11:30.” JARVIS intervenes and you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding when Professor Stark steps away.

“Thanks, J.” He says to the air, keeping his eyes on you. “JARVIS will keep you company while I’m in the meeting but in the meantime, make yourself comfortable, and when I come back, we can start playing. Sounds good?”

You nod instead, the words not forming in your head as your thoughts still linger on the unexpected kiss.

“Great.” He gives your nose a light tap, his nose scrunching when he smiles before turning to leave the lab.

You remain standing, still in shock at what happened but try your best to push such thoughts away. He just got excited. You tell yourself. It is a big project. Another attempt at convincing yourself and you move to look down at the suit once again before claiming a seat on one of the stools propped beside the table.

You hear JARVIS call your name, looking up at the ceiling to acknowledge him. “Would you like me to show you where the vibranium is?” He asks.

That somewhat makes you smile and you nod at no one. “Yes please, Mr. Jarvis.” And you stand from your seat, following the instructions of the AI, and walk towards the door that slides open, staring in awe as cylinders of the element stand before you.

The work finally begins. Weeks have come and gone, and all that you’ve ever come to know is Professor Stark’s lab, working and experimenting with various ways to produce the outcome that your mentor expects from the element. You’ve only been researching so far, testing theory after theory on how the element would bind with the nanotech Professor Stark has at the ready. But each virtual attempt has proven to be a failure, having you go back to the drawing board to start from scratch once again.

“Let’s take 5, sweetheart.” Professor Stark calls from the other side of your desk after another failed test.

You nod and slide from your seat, asking JARVIS to continue running some tests, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips as you make your way to the open balcony. You’ve been on the computer for hours now, codes and holographic diagrams being your constant company. You know that you’re missing something, something important to have all the pieces fit—but you just can’t find it.

The summer breeze of New York City is a welcome distraction as you step out into the open air. You look down from where you stand, seeing the streets busy and full of life yet the noises don’t reach you from where you are, the silence feeding into the tranquility that slowly embraces you. Even the view is breathtaking. The sun is already beginning its descent, orange and blue hues painting the sky, making the buildings underneath glow in beauty.

You take a calming breath, one that you think you desperately need to help clear your mind and bring you back to focus on the task you’ll be facing.

“Enjoying the view?” You startle when you hear Professor Stark beside you, his hand resting just at the low of your back as he leans his side against the railing.

You quickly compose yourself and give him a light nod, looking back at the picturesque sight before you. “I never thought New York could be so beautiful.”

“It’s what I love most about this place.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely though?” You couldn’t help ask.

“I have JARVIS and the bots with me.” He chuckles and glances inside his lab before looking back at you. “And now I have you. If all things work out, I might just make you my assistant.”

“Your assistant?” You blink in surprise at his words. “But everything I’ve been doing has been—” The words you wish to say face away when you hear a loud beeping coming from the inside. You look at your professor, the expression on his face equally surprised and you both make your way back into the lab.

The hologram by your computer has changed from cyan to yellow and you stand in awe as you watch the image playing before you, the vibranium slowly wrapping around the atoms and binding together before bleeding around the model of a human, successfully forming the suit.

“I believe your theory has proven to be successful,” JARVIS says.

“But—h-how?” You ask, rounding the desk to sit in front of your computer, looking closely at the formulas you’ve curated.

“I kept running tests just as you asked and took the liberty of adding the power to the stabilizer. Your equations are correct but the equipment simply needed a little modification.”

You scan the tests and sit in utter disbelief as the words of JARVIS prove to be true. You did it. Although with a little help from your professor’s AI, you actually did it! You can’t help the smile that slowly forms on your lips as you dwell on the thought that it was all because of your research and the theory you created that has deemed the project to be a success.

“What happened?” Professor Stark asks after, peeking at him from your computer. “What is J yapping about?”

“It worked.” You say with a steady voice as you stand from your seat. “My theory worked.”

Professor Stark moves to stand beside you behind your desk, his hands pressed against the surface as he leans forward to look at the hologram. A smirk forms on his lips and he looks at you, a glint in his brown eyes before he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him, tapping the side of your hip.

“I knew you could do it, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” You bask in his praise, feeling your heart feel full at making your professor pleased with your work.

“I wouldn’t have done it without you, professor.”

“Tony.” He says out of the blue and you look at him curiously. “When you’re in the lab, I’m not your professor and you are not my student. We’re colleagues.” He explains. “So please, call me Tony.”

“Okay—T-Tony.”

You feel a slight unease as his name rolls through your tongue. You’ve never called any professor by their first name before, thinking it to be disrespectful towards them to assume any sense of camaraderie especially if they didn’t welcome it. But Professor Stark did ask for it and you somewhat see the sense in his account, that you both are colleagues in such a setting.

“Say it again,”

You look up at him in confusion, your teeth worrying your bottom lip before whispering his name once more.

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart.”

“Tony.” You raise your voice an octave and blink in surprise, blushing intensely when he plants a kiss on your cheek.

“Good girl.” He chuckles and pulls away, leaving you stunned by your desk. “Calculate the time frame for the complete binding process.” He calls out loud to JARVIS.

“I already ran the numbers, sir, and upon initial estimation, it will take approximately 2 days.”

“Then I guess we better get to work.” Professor Stark grins in your direction, giving him a light smile before turning away to press a hand against your cheek, your thoughts running wild as you dwell on the sudden kiss.

You and Tony decide to take turns staying in the lab to watch over the stabilizer as the binding process runs its course. It took a while for it to start, with both of you modifying the equipment needed to be used to turn your theory into a reality. Even with the labor proving to be tough, it was but a small feat worthy to endure as you watch each progress bar glow in success.

You watch the moon shine brightly in the night sky through the transparent wall of the elevator, making your way toward the lab. You try to hype yourself up and prepare for the grueling 7 hours of doing nothing ahead. Though after your first watch, you decided to bring along your computer this time and catch up on some reading before you go back to university the next month.

JARVIS' voice makes you smile when he greets you upon your arrival, the double doors of the lab opening in an instant for you to enter. Setting your bag on the couch, you hum in confusion when you don’t see Tony inside.

“JARVIS?” You call the AI, walking towards the screen to check any changes in the progress. “Where is Professor Stark?”

“He was called for an emergency meeting. But rest assured I would send him any updates of any changes to the process.”

“No need for that. You can just tell him that I’m already here.” You smile up at the ceiling and make your way back to the couch, looking down at the bottles of energy drinks gathered on the coffee table in front of it.

“Mr. Stark says to help yourself with the drinks. It could help keep you up during the night.” JARVIS adds.

You give the AI your thanks and pull your computer from your bag, getting comfortable on the couch as you boot it up and diving head-on to the first reading topic you pull out for your senior year.

The hours slug by and the words on your screen begin blending with each other. You check the time and groan upon seeing it’s only 2AM, giving you 4 more hours to spend in the lab. Even with the project being an exciting and once-in-a-lifetime experience, you can’t help but find the wait to be boring. Yes, it’s part of the process but you think it would be more efficient to have JARVIS oversee the project himself and inform either you or Professor Stark of any problems that may arise.

You blink away the sleepiness from your eyes and slip the computer off your lap, reaching over for a bottle of energy drink on the table. You twist the cap open and take a heavy gulp, wanting the sugar to kick in immediately to keep you wide awake before your shift ends.

You stand from the couch, clutching the bottle in your hand, and decide to take a walk around the lab, hoping it would help to keep the lingering exhaustion at bay. The stabilizer seems to be in check, each progress bar ticking off as complete before another begins.

You do another lap around the lab, looking at the assortment of gadgets and equipment your professor has laying all over the place. The suit remains dormant on the steel table, lifeless and still yet looking all too vibrant in its metallic glory. You run a finger against its steel surface, amazed at its structure when a yawn forms at your lips, having you take another swig of the sugary beverage.

But your eyes begin to droop, your head feeling all too light that you make your way back to the couch, the plush cushions looking enticing as you drop yourself on it and lay your head against the armrest. Professor Stark wouldn’t mind if I take a quick nap, right? You ask yourself but before you could even debate for it to be a bad idea, your eyes close on their own accord, your mind going blank and the darkness completely taking over you as you fall into slumber.

You dream of flight. Your body light as you soar through the clouds, swimming over the skyscrapers of the city. A cool breeze brushes against your cheek and you smile at the pleasurable sensation that ripples through your body. Your arms are spread wide, a bird basking in the aerial domain. You look behind when you feel a tingle down at your legs and you see a streak of red and yellow breaking the peacefulness of the sky.

Then all of a sudden, something pulls at the pit of your stomach and you’re falling fast toward the ground. A sense of panic washes over you as you flail your arms, trying to grasp for anything to save you but nothing comes to your aid. You try to scream, hoping anyone would hear your cries but no sound comes from your mouth. The earth comes closer by the second and you close your eyes as you await your death.

You wake in a jolt, your chest heaving as you pant heavily, trying to regulate your breathing and grab a semblance of reality from the dream-turned-nightmare. The ceiling looks different and the couch you fell asleep on feels all too wide. You’re cold, a chill kissing your skin that slowly shakes you awake, and it's then that you finally realize that you’re naked.

“Wha—” You try to speak but a moan escapes your lips instead when you feel something smooth and wet lap against your soaking cunt.

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” You hear the voice of your professor echo through the room, fear crawling up your skin when you look down between your thighs and see his brown orbs staring at you, his lips glistening with your arousal. “Just as I’ve imagined.” He smirks and crawls up from where he’s kneeling, his face hovering over yours.

“Professor—” You cry and try to push him away, but such attempts are a defeat when you look up and see your wrists bound with silver restraints, the fibers glowing blue and purple with each tug you make.

“Sweetheart, I told you to call me Tony.” He whispers, grabbing your chin with his hand and pressing his lips against yours.

He slips his tongue through your lips and kisses you hard, his mouth devouring yours whole as he dominates you through the kiss. You try to move away, to stop him from his assault but you’re rendered helpless as his hold on your chin tightens, almost to the verge of pain making you stop altogether and allow him to do his lecherous act.

You gasp for air when he pulls away, moving your face away when his lips trail down to your jaw then to your neck. Tears begin to spring from your eyes as you continue to pull on your restraints. Confusion clouds your mind as you question how it has come to this, that your professor has pulled you into a nightmare you never saw coming.

“I’ve waited for so long and now you’re finally mine.” He mumbles against your skin, looking up at his blurry image when his face lingers above you once again.

“I—I don’t understand.” You whimper, wriggling against the bed when he pushes his clothed pelvis flush against yours, rolling his hips, the fabric of his pants rubbing against your clit. “Why a-are you doing t-this, professor?” You say in between grunts then yelping in pain when you feel a zap of electricity sting your wrists.

“I told you to call me Tony.” He growls and pushes himself up, your eyes widening when he pulls off his shirt, witnessing the contours of his muscles lining his bare torso. He then makes work of his pants, the soft sound of his zipper seeming all too loud as dread completely takes you over.

He pulls off his pants and kneels back down on the bed, hands running up and down your bare thighs, your arms aching and going taut from the metallic restraints when he grabs you by the waist and pulls you against him. You cry when he rubs the length of his cock against your folds, rolling the tip against your swollen clit which makes you whine and cry even more in turn.

“You ask why I’m doing this?” He echoes your question as he lines himself against your cunt, closing your eyes when he slowly inches the tip of his cock inside you. “Because I can.” He snarls and impales you in one swift move, a pang of pain surrounding your pelvis from his sudden intrusion.

You grit your teeth when he bottoms out, feeling yourself grow full from his size. You didn’t think he’d be big but the pain that radiates through your pelvis as your pussy walls clench around him tell you otherwise. He groans, his head tilted back as he stays still, allowing you to adjust to his girth but you have difficulty in doing so with your body remaining tense.

You try to push him away, flailing your legs to push him off but you’re no match for his strength. His hands push your thighs apart, pinning them to the bed, whining when he slides out of you and slowly thrusts himself back in.

He starts at an easy pace, watching himself slip in and out of you. But his impatience eventually grows, picking up the rhythm of his hips and you shut your eyes tight when he begins to fuck you fast and hard, all the same, your body jostling against the mattress, slamming himself against you at a brutal pace.

You close your eyes. You try to think this all to be a dream, some horrible night terror that you’ll be waking up from any time soon, but such attempts are futile when his hands begin to linger, feeling them clamp on your shoulders from behind and his hot breath fanning over your cheek.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart.” He says in between grunts, his face pressing against the side of yours, knees tucked underneath your thighs, shifting the angle of his cock and letting out an incoherent moan as you feel him slide deeper within. “Watching you in my class for three fucking years and now you’re here.”

You try to drown out his words, wishing them to be lies. He’s your professor, a mentor you’ve looked up to for so long. You did the work. You paid attention. You’re not the best but you’re also not the worse. And still, you don’t understand what you’ve done to garner his attention, that he'd pull you into this nightmare disguised as a dream when all you’ve ever been was a diligent student.

“Tony—please,” You try to beg for him to stop but the words drown in your tongue, turning into a reluctant moan when he hits that sweet spot hidden within.

Your body then ripples in desire, the unwanted pleasure filling your senses as your feel your body tighten. It shouldn’t feel this good, you should detest it but with each thrust he makes, with each rub of his pelvis against your clit, the only place you see going is up, soaring high as your arousal gradually reaches its peak.

Your walls tighten around him and he growls like some feral animal, his lips sloppily kissing your cheek while he whispers your name in staccatos.

“That’s it, baby—” He grunts, one of his hands releasing your shoulder and reaching down to fondle your swollen bud. “Say my name.”

You clamp your lips shut, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of his desire. But your wrists sting once more, making you cry out in pain, panting heavily as your heartbeat spikes both from the electricity pinching your skin and the man taking you as he pleases.

“Say it!” He repeats, punching the air from your lungs as he slams himself hard against you.

“Tony,” You whisper, his name sickening rolling against your tongue.

“Louder!” He commands.

And you give in, chanting his name, again and again, your voice and the sound of your skins slapping with each other bouncing off the walls of the room, filling your ears, filling your senses.

“Yes—” He growls, muttering nonsense against your temple as his fingers and cock work you in tandem.

The tension in your stomach builds and builds, the dam ready to break with each flick of his fingers on your clit and each pulse your pussy makes. The pressure he adds on the bud only pulls you higher into ecstasy and all at once you find your release, your pussy fluttering around his cock as you come tumbling down from the sky.

You feel him throb inside you, his words growing erratic with each thrust he makes. He then comes all together and you mewl when his seeds fill you up, coating your slicked walls. You lay almost lifeless on the bed, chest heaving, moans leaving your lips as he begins to give you shallow thrusts, riding out his orgasm and pumping every last drop into your cunt.

Your name tumbles out of his lips once more and you feel him go still, keeping his cock inside as he too pants heavily against your side.

“Tell me you’re mine, baby.” He whispers against your cheek, his hand leaving your clit only to run it up your abdomen and cup your tit, giving it a light squeeze when you don’t respond to his command. “Tell me.” He repeats with strength.

You let out a heavy breath, the tears spilling from your eyes once again as you try to form the words on your lips if only to please him, to keep the anger he keeps hidden within at bay.

“I—” You swallow thickly. “I’m yours.”

You stand at the side of the stage with your other classmates, waiting for your name to be called. Today was supposed to be the best day of your life, one you’ve been waiting for since you entered university. But you can’t find it in you to be happy on your graduation for all the glee has been sucked out of you since that day your professor showed his true colors.

He retired in the middle of the school year. An organization called SHIELD asked for his assistance after he presented himself as Iron Man. You would have been proud of the suit if things didn’t go the way they did, if your professor remained your mentor and didn't turn into your captor. But every time you see the name on the news, or even the image of the suit, all you feel is fear. Fear towards the man you once trusted and the power that he has at the palm of his hand.

Your thoughts are broken when Maya taps your shoulder from behind, looking at the stage to see Michelle finishing her bow and leaving at the other side. Your name is then called and you put on a fake smile as you meet the dean, shaking his hand and taking the scroll of parchment from his grasp before standing center stage and giving a deep bow.

You were deemed Valedictorian of your class. A recognition that was given to you upon the university’s knowledge of your helping hand on the Iron Man suit. A recognition you don’t deserve after Tony’s blatant words.

“You’re not here because you’re smart. Your brain isn’t that special, sweetheart. You’re only here because I wanted you to be here. I just got lucky that your thesis matched with what I was working on and it was the perfect excuse to have you in my tower.”

After the ceremony, you meet with your parents. Both of them hug you tightly as they tell you how proud they are of you. You smile at their words if only to hide your true feelings about the occasion. Nevertheless, you still bask in the freedom that is bestowed upon you with Tony being away on a mission with a band of people they call The Avengers.

“We made reservations at 9th Brewery.” Your mom says with a smile, her arm wrapping around yours as the three of you make your way to the parking.

“9th? Isn’t it expensive there?” You ask and they simply chuckle at your disbelief.

“Our Valedictorian only deserves the best.” Your dad comments, a small smile forming on your lips when he places a kiss on your temple.

You congratulate some of your classmates as you pass them by. Receiving their greeting all the same while some try to stop you and ask for details about working with the most famous man in the world. You try to escape them all the same for you have nothing to tell them, wishing to erase that part of your life, but you stop dead in your tracks when you see Tony just up ahead, looking pristine in a three-piece suit, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You feel a sense of worry wrap around you when he walks towards you and your parents.

“Congratulations, sweetheart.” He greets you, walking past your parents and pressing a kiss to your lips. You take the flowers when he holds them out to you, whispering your thanks before looking at your parents when they stare at you and Tony, question evident in their eyes.

“You’re Tony Stark.” Your dad breaks the silence. “You’re Iron Man.” And Tony grins at him proudly, wrapping an arm around your waist as he holds you close to him. “Why did you kiss my daughter?”

“You haven’t told them yet, sweetheart?” Tony chuckles and holds out his hand to your father. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir.” He says, a wide smile on his lips as your dad shakes his hand. “As well as you, ma’am.” He greets your mom next, taking her hand and placing a light kiss on her knuckles.

“Uhhh—mom, dad, this is Tony and uhhh—” Your hands get clammy as you try to find the words to say. What do you tell them? That he was previously your professor? What would they even think when they find out such information after seeing his public display of affection?

“I think what your daughter is trying to say is that she and I are together.”

You frown upon seeing the expression on your parents’ faces, your dad seemingly excited and your mom, in shock.

“But aren’t you her professor?” Your mom asks. “Sweetie, you never mentioned you were seeing someone.” She turns to you, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth as you feel the anxiety creep up your skin

“I know it’s somewhat of a surprise but I assure you everything is legal,” Tony says coolly, feeling no shame as he places a kiss on your cheek. “We are both consenting adults and I was no longer a member of the faculty when we engaged in our relationship. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your stomach rolls in disgust at how easily he lies to your parents’ faces. And what’s worse is how they seem to believe every word he’s saying. The shock on your mother’s face seems to dissipate and your father is all too oblivious, all smiles as the fame of the man at your side cloud his judgment.

You squeak when Tony’s hand pinches your waist when you don’t answer immediately, feeling a small wave of electricity rippling through your skin from the necklace he’s given you; a smaller replica of the arc reactor he’s embedded on his chest.

You nod and force a smile, leaning closer against Tony’s frame and resting your head against his shoulder. “Yes, honey.”

#tony stark #iron man #tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark au #iron man au #mcu au #i love you 3000 writing challenge #with flying colors #coconut bun stories

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huffelpuff210 · 4 months

Text

His Obsession Part 2

Chapter 2

Warning: Kidnapping, drugging, aggressive behavior, forced relationship, forced marriage. Mentions of past abuse

You’re heavy eyelids slowly flutter open, You don’t recognize the room, It’s was modern with a little bit of a barn look to it, gray walls, Barn looking furniture and A wooden bed frame, You slowly sit up You look down you are still in you’re scrubs, the bed was huge, with dusted red colored bed sheets and blankets, You’re head hurt as you were trying to make sense of what happened the door opens, You see then man you ran into a few weeks ago. He hand a glass of juice in his hand,

“Morning sweetheart,” He says with a smile

You were extremely confused he was smiling at you as if what had happened was completely normal.

He chuckled I guess the look on you’re face told him everything. He set the glass on the end table.

“I guess you have a few questions.” He chuckles

“First off I am James Barnes but everyone calls me Bucky, I am the boss of the Mafia they call me the king of New York.” He says

You’re eyes widen realizing why he looked so familiar,

“Why did you bring me here?” You asked

He smirked

“Because I think it’s about time to settle down with someone.” He says smiling at me

You’re eyes widen

“W-Why me?” You asked

“Because you weren’t afraid of me.” He says his hand on you’re cheek

“You can’t do this,” You say

He grips you’re chin,

“I can an will.” He says smiling down at you

“I’ll call the police.” You say glaring at him

“Go ahead doll, this entire city is under my control, no matter who you call, I guarantee they are on my pay roll.” He says

“No matter where you run I will find you.” He says smirking down at you

He forces you to you’re feet where you’re feet almost give out. he easily catches you.

“Easy doll,” He says smirking down at you

“You’re probably still under the effects of the sedative.” He says You just give him a really looking knowing he’s the one who forced you to you’re feet.

“Now listen closely you are going to do as I say when I say it.” He says

You glare at him.

“And if I don’t?” You ask

“There will be consequences.” He says

“Punishments to be exact.” He says

His hands skimming over you’re sides

His thumb pulling you’re lower lip down.

“But if you’re good you get rewarded.” He says kissing the side of you’re neck.

You try to push him away but he doesn’t budge. You don’t know what came over you but you Kneed him between the legs and right hooked him and sprang to you’re feet, sprinting out of the room and out of the house, there was nothing for miles as you took in you’re surroundings You shook you’re head and ran towards the woods it would be harder for him to find you. It would be you’re best chance to get away all you knew was you needed to get away from him, King of New York or not you were not giving in to a power hungry powerful man like him, He knew people and by the looks of it he got what he wanted and no one says no to him. You keep running twigs and leaves crunching under you’re bare feet. You look over you’re shoulder to see if anyone is following you. You only see one man, He’s big like James and tall, he’s got sandy blonde hair, You trip only to roll down an embankment rolling the world spinning as you roll grunting as you hit rocks, twigs and branches, once you stop rolling you realize you are on a road, you pick a direction and start sprinting, you see a car and flag it down asking frantically for a ride into town, the driver happily takes you. Only then you realize you are able to breath only then do you see the man that was chasing you talking on the phone glaring at you from behind the vehicle as he get smaller and smaller the further the car drives. You knew this wasn’t going to be easy but you knew you had to run. to do everything in you’re power to stay away from James who wanted a different fate than you wanted. You knew it was going to be a challenge, But if you learned anything from you’re stepfather is running was something you were very good at.

#dark avengers #dark bucky x reader #original character #dark steve rogers #dark tony stark #dark marvel #mafia

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atlasscrumpit · 7 months

Text

Alpha/Omega au (Evil Tony)

(Alpha/Omega au because I haven't done one for a while and like I need it)

You sat in the training room shaking and crying in pain while blood dripped from your nose.

You looked up at Tony who stared down at you.

"Now, sweetheart. I'm going to ask one more fucking time. Are you ready to behave?" He asked, slowly kneeling down and gripping your chin.

"Yes, sir." You muttered as he smiled.

"See? That wasn't so hard now was it? I thought you'd learnt your place, Y/N. But, here we are, lovely. Now, go to the infirmary and get Bruce to fix you up, can't have you looking ugly now, can we?" He asked as you looked at him with tears in your eyes and nodded a little.

You slowly stood up and walked past him, he quickly grabbed your arm roughly.

"If you ever disobey me like that again, I will fucking force you into heat and throw you into a room with ten alphas. Understood?" He growled as you kept your eyes down and nodded.

"Yes, sir." You replied making him smile.

"Good girl."

You eventually made it up to the infirmary and saw Steve treating one of his recent wounds on his hands.

He turned around and looked at you in shock.

"Is Bruce here?" You muttered as you walked closer.

"No, he's out for a bit. I can help if you want, sweetie." He sat, patting the bed he was in front of.

You walked over and sat on the bed in front of Steve as he brought out some basic medical supplies.

"Love, what happened?" He asked as you kept your eyes down.

"I had an outburst at Tony... I got angry and swore and called him names." You muttered as Steve sighed softly.

“It’s not fair… I didn’t choose to be born an omega! And just because of that I deserve to get abused?” You shouted at Steve before he roughly grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

“Enough, you can’t speak like that. You know exactly what everyone here is capable of.” He growled as you looked at him and nodded.

He sighed and let go of your face before he began cleaning up your wounds.

“I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated.” You muttered as Steve nodded.

“I know, once you’ve rested a bit we can have a sparring match or something, help you get all that tension out.” He replied as you smiled a little.

"Thank you, Steve."

You sat next to Bucky on the couch, watching tv.

You liked being around Bucky, he felt so safe. Bucky didn't talk much and his Alpha side was practically wiped out by Hydra, so when you were with him you felt equal.

You leant your head against his shoulder while you watched TV.

"I'm scared." You whispered as Bucky looked down at you with confusion.

"Why, doll?" He asked, you continued to stare forward at the TV.

"My heat is coming up and I hate it... I don't want Tony taking care of me when I'm like that. He's so rough with me and he doesn't give me aftercare and I end up worse off." You muttered as Bucky looked at you sadly.

He never agreed with Tony's way of treating you, especially when he would lock you away while you were in heat. Only coming in to fuck you a few times and that was it.

"Something Tony doesn't understand, that he'll probably never understand is that it's not all about sex. Him going in and screwing you isn't fixing anything. An omega is vulnerable when they're like that, needing care and support." Bucky said as you closed your eyes, afraid you would cry.

"I wish you or Steve could help me through it..." You whispered as Bucky ran his hand through your hair.

"Maybe one day..."

You were in the kitchen cooking dinner for everyone, you didn't mind it helped keep your mind off of things.

You saw Tony coming down and your body automatically tensed up.

"What's our wonderful girl cooking for us tonight?" He asked wrapping an arm around your waist while you cooked.

"I thought I would make spaghetti tonight, is that okay?" You asked as he chuckled and kissed your neck.

"It's perfect my little chef. I have to talk to you about something." He said as you stiffened a little.

"I have to go away for three months, sweetheart. That means you'll be going through two heats while I'm gone." He continued as you did your best to keep in your excitement.

"Who will help me?" You asked as he pulled away and held your face in his hand.

"Well, I want Steve to help you through it. I trust him with my life and with you, so it's going to be Steve. I know he can keep you in line like I do." He said as you smiled and nodded.

"Is it really three months? Can we at least call or something?" You asked doing your best to fake that you would miss him.

He chuckled softly and kissed your forehead.

"Of course we can call, sweetheart. I'll miss you so much." He said as you hugged him.

"I'll miss you too, Alpha."

#Mcu #Marvel #Avengers #Steve Rogers #Tony Stark #Dark tony stark #Avengers x reader #Bucky Barnes #alpha omega

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 2 years

Text

Dark Tony Stark x Reader

Pairing: Dark Tony Stark x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

REQUEST: If possible, please can you do Yandere Tony Stark with a reader that understands how far he could go/went for her by speaking to the others ? Like, they explain to her what happened on a specific event or he did after she left, things like that please ?

@zzguguszz

WARNINGS: --

AN: Hope you enjoy this. I tried my best :)

“and then Tony sent those flying suits searching for you, but no luck there. I think he also tried having Jarvis tracking down your phone, but you left that device at home so no luck there. Then he hacked into all the surveillance cameras around the city to catch an image of you, but no luck there so he ....”

Steve keeps talking, not noticing that you are no longer paying attention to him but instead you’re too absorbed by the graphic description of Tony’s overprotective behavior over you.

The worst thing is that you were only gone for one hour, taking that time as a short self-recharging time at the park where you just relaxed at the quiet park.

Now you’re at the Compound, sitting in the conference room with Steve while he rambles about how stressed Tony was while you were gone.

Ever since you arrived at the Avenger’s compound, you’ve been approached by Natasha, Steve and 5 other people, all of them worried about you and a possible kidnapping of yours, all according to what Tony had told them.

It surprises you how Tony is starting to become more and more protective since he has always been so laid back and carefree yet lately he’s always trying to be with you or sending one of his suits to look after you.

Maybe it’s because of his work as an Avenger and the things he has to deal with but either way, it’s changing him. It’s starting to make you feel less and less passionate about your relationship, as you’re slowly being suffocated by his smothering nature.

Just as you’re deep in those disturbing thoughts, the door bursts wide open, revealing a very angry Tony with his armor slowly retracting back.

Steve shuts up and quietly leaves the room, leaving the two of you alone. You stand up as Tony practically runs towards you, lifting you into a bone-crunching hug.

“God, do you know how worried I was? I was losing my damn mind over it!” he says, his hand supporting the back of your head as he holds you close against him.

You try pushing him away, but to no avail.

“Tony, I’m completely fine! I only went out for a bit, not a big deal. You’re just being overdramatic.” you say as he finally pulls back a bit, still keeping his arms around you. His eyes are incredulous as they stare into you.

“I’m being overdramatic? You fucking left for a few hours, without a trace. No message, no phone call. Nothing.” he foams with rage while loudly spitting the words. It makes you a bit scared to see him losing his temper, you’ve never seen him so upset.

Something in his expression changes as he looks at you.

“Things are gonna change from now on. You’re not allowed to leave the mansion anymore unless you have permission.” he firmly declares. You scoff, baffled at his ridiculous words.

“Not funny, Tony.” you shrug it off, rolling your eyes at him. Tony takes in a sharp breath as his expression hardens. There’s no humor in his face and that’s when it hits you that he’s not playing around.

“I’m not joking, Y/N. In case you haven’t noticed, the world is dangerous and it’s getting worse, so I’m not gonna risk it. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, even if I have to become the bad guy here. You’re mine and I’ll protect you with my life.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere avengers #yandere marvel #dark marvel #dark tony stark #yandere tony stark #yandere tony stark x reader #dark tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #yandere!tony stark

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Everywhere You Go

Warnings: this fic includes implied noncon and coercion, mentions of crime and abuse, and explicit sexual content. Tags are not exhaustive and more may be added as the series progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The day your husband is released from prison is the day it all falls apart.

Characters: Mob!Tony Stark, Steve Rogers

Note: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty Week One Writer’s Activity. My prompts were Isolation + Mafia. I included all three items.

So I kinda tried something new... let me know what you think.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like the boys love milkshakes. Take care. 💖

The screen flicks to black. You stand with your arm outstretched, remote still aimed at the television. Your heart drums behind your ears as the banner sticks in your vision. ‘Stark released on mistrial’.

The remote slips from your fingers as your arm drops to your side. It’s like you can see the air around you, feel it suffocating you as you breathe it in, as if you’re wading through muck. You turn and lean against the armrest of the sectional, hanging your head as you try to stop the spinning sensation.

You steady yourself and stand straight. You look down at the tremble in your hands. That you can’t stop. You go to the window and look out at the fading yellow grass and the peeling wood fence. This is supposed to be the end. It is supposed to be safe.

You tug the curtains shut and turn to lean against the wall. You hug yourself and stare at the rug’s edge, the slightly fraying fabric trims the worn wooden boards. You shudder and sink down to the floor, hiding your face in your hands.

“Girl like you deserves diamonds,” Tony’s fingers tickles your collar bone as he plays with the circle cut diamond, a weight reminder of his hold on you. “And every guy who looks at you, deserves to know who you belong to…”

Goosebumps rise as the shadow of his touch brushes over you with the breeze that slips in the open window. Your teeth chatter though it’s barely cold enough to be anything more than balmy. You drag your fingers down to your neck to make sure there’s nothing there. No necklace, no collar, no leash.

He’s gone. He doesn’t know where you are. You made sure of it. But that was when he was behind bars.

You can never be safe so long as he’s free.

A week passes without occurrence, assuring you that your paranoia got the best of you. The idea of Tony getting out is hardly comforting but you’re safe. You’re protected. You’re not alone.

You go about your usual routine. A breakfast of fruit and steel cut oats, a cup of espresso with a hint of cream. You watch the birds hop over the top of the fence and the bees buzzing around the dandelions.

You have walls, you have food, you aren’t in pain. You’re safe. You keep reciting that fact like a mantra. Safe. The word becomes gibberish the more you think it.

You retreat and rinse out the small cup and set it on the rack to drip dry. A simple existence. It’s all you ever longed for in that lonely house, adorned in gems, stuck in his trap. You never wanted any of that. Not even him.

You take the basket from beside the front door and pull it open, the warmth of the sunshine fading away as you stop short on the threshold. You look down at the long stems wrapped in a white bow. The peachy orange is the same shade as those you held on your wedding day. The basket blows out of your hand with the sudden gust that surrounds you.

You stare down between your feet at the dainty petals. It can’t be. Here?

You look out over the meadows, sprawling, lush, and green. Nothing but the ripple of the wind as it blows over the tall blades. You step back, leaving the basket to roll away and the flowers where they met you. You shut the door and lean on it, a hand on the wood as your heart hammers.

You need to leave. Now.

“Flowers,” Agent Rogers bends to scoop up the bouquet, “really?”

“It’s not a coincidence,” you insist, “I know I sound crazy but I also know Tony. Better than anyone. You know that too.”

“I can’t exactly tell the higher ups that you got some flowers. It’s not exactly grounds for relocation,” he turns the bunch in his hand and examines the white ribbon.

“Right,” you say, deflated, “but– you have everything. Go back in the evidence, check the wedding photos. Rosa Independence. A twisted joke, I know. He said he liked the colour.”

“The more I learn about the guy, the more I hate him,” he pushes his golden hair back and drops his hand, pulling back his sleeve to look at his watch, “gotta call it in. Probably won’t have a decision right away.”

You nod, uneasily shifting on your feet. You don’t know how long you have to get away. Maybe you’ll have to do it without him. Pack a bag and just go. Wherever you can.

“I’ll see if I can stay. Standard security procedure. No reason for us to take this too lightly,” he lays the flowers across the oak table that play centerpiece to the front room, “no one should know you’re up here. So, even if they’re not your husband’s attempt at reconciliation, they’re a very pointed statement.”

“Thank you, Agent Rogers,” you say breathily, “I’m sorry.”

“Doing my job, nothing to be sorry about,” he says as he pulls out his phone.

You give a half-hearted smile before he strides out. You sit inside as his low tones waft in but you can’t make out the words. You can’t focus enough to try as the curling orange petals mock you.

“I’ve been waitin’ all day for this, sweetheart,” Tony purrs into your neck as you feel the thorn stems catch on your dress. He leans you over the suede car seat as he nuzzles your throat and nips. Not even halfway to the reception and he’s got your veil askew, your skirt hiked up past your thighs. “I’m gonna fuck you just like this, every day for the rest of our lives.”

The door hits the frame and draws you back to the present. Agent Rogers tucks his phone into his jacket, “looks like I’m posting up here for the night.”

You nod, speechless as the memory lingers in the back of your head. You stand and cross the room, refusing to look at the table.

“Please, can you throw those away?” You eke out.

He’s quiet. You turn your head and watch from your peripheral as he nears the table and lifts the bouquet, the petals rustling softly. He looks at them and puts them to his nose.

“Sure,” he answers at last as he retreats with the long stems, “never understood why roses were seen as romantic. Too many thorns.”

“Kinda like marriage,” you scoff as you face him again, “thank you, Agent.”

“I’m gonna be here a while. Steve is just fine.”

“Can’t be too careful,” Steve says as you stare at the side mirror, watching the sun fade behind you.

“Yeah,” you say mindlessly and shift in your seat, “I’m sor–”

“Stop it,” he admonishes as he adjusts the air conditioner, “you’re sorry cause what? I chose to be in WITSEC as much as they chose me. I knew what I was getting into.”

“I know but I–” you swallow and rub your throat as it bobs, “I guess I’m sorry for a lot of things. I lived a long time with a man who took without thinking. By proxy, I did the same. I… was too afraid to do anything but let him.”

“The mistrial wasn’t your fault, you know that, right?”

“Maybe,” you shrug.

“It’s not. It’s the f– the bought and paid for judge sitting on the bench. You know Stark, he’s got hands in everyone’s pockets.”

“I know, but… I shoulda known better.”

“You did what you had to. That’s all we can ever do,” Steve says, “why don’t you turn on some music, gonna be a long ride.”

You clamp your lips shut and reach forward to flick on the stereo. You flip through the curated stations until you find a retro pop channel. No chance of AC/DC. His favourite.

You sit back and lean your elbow on the door and cradle your forehead. The skyline blurs by as you try not to think. That never works. It’s impossible. He’s always there, looming in the back of your mind. Just like he had for all those years.

“Must be hard,” you sit up, “doing what you do and having a family. I can’t imagine…”

He’s quiet as his eyes focus through the windshield and he switches lanes. His grip loosens on the wheel as he smoothly evens out. “Easy, actually, I don’t got a family.”

“Oh, well…”

“Don’t you feel sorry for me. I know you don’t have anyone either. I mean, I got friends, at least.”

You sniff and fold your hands in your lap. It was only ever Tony. You weren’t allowed to have friends. Friends were dangerous. Friends talked. He wasn’t stupid. Everyone was just playing politics, trying to take his throne. Did he ever suspect his own wife would turn him in to the DEA?

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Steve says as Cher’s voice drones sonorously from the speakers, “I mean, I… I guess I don’t know what I meant. I see all the guys I work with, they got wives they leave at home, births they miss, family dinners they’re never home for. I just don’t want all that. I don’t want anyone to let down.”

“Fair,” you rub your upper arm as you glance at the rearview. For a moment, your eyes meet, placid but warm blue irises with a tint of green, “and I know you didn’t mean anything. I chose my path too. Tried to, in the end.”

It’s late. You’re restless. Like any night since the day you saw your ex on the news walking out of the courthouse. More so since you came to this new safehouse.

Maybe it’s the unusualness of having company or maybe it’s the circumstance. You’re hiding, as good as running from your husband. You knew you always would but it just feels so futile. Like you can’t get far enough away. Like there’s nothing that can hold him back, not a cell or the justice system.

It was like he always said, Tony Stark always finds a way.

You flip on the lamp as you enter the living room. The small apartment is unremarkable. You suspect that’s deliberate.

The blinds are always done and not much sunlight gets in. The place is a dour and grim contrast to your former abode. You miss the freedom of the fields and the optimism of the skies. Even if you had neither, the illusion was there.

You take the novel from beside the base of the lamp where you left it. You notice the spine is bent in a new place. You examine the curling corner of the cover, your bookmark exactly how you left it.

“Interesting story,” Steve says as he enters.

You pop your head up in surprise and rest the book against the edge of the table. Your coexistence grows easier by the day, the week, nearly a month now. His presence is comforting. If he left, you’re not sure you would stay. He kept your fear from getting the best of you.

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you up,” you let go of the book and face him.

“I was awake,” he gives a slanted grin, “I was just sneaking out to… grab a book.”

“This one,” you push your fingertip to the cover. He nods guiltily.

You look over at the shelf against the wall. He follows your gaze and scoffs.

“Yeah, I know,” he says, “but none of those are holding my attention.”

You turn back to him. He’s in nothing but a pair of grey joggers, unabashed as the vee of his pelvis peeks out above the elastic and his muscular torso tempts your eyes. You focus on his face and grasp the book, sliding it off the table. You cross to him.

“All yours,” you hold it up to him, “I’m too tired to read.”

He gently brushes his hand over yours and takes the book. He’s close. Very close. You can smell his sweat beneath the dissolving layer of deodorant. You can even feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Night,” you catch a yawn in your palm and go to sidle past him.

“I could… read to you. I think I’m a bit behind but if you don’t mind a bit of backtracking–”

You look him in the eye, amused by the suggestion. He wants to read to you, like a child?

“You can close your eyes, listen,” he suggests, “might help you sleep.”

“You don’t have to do that, Steve, but I appreciate it.”

He nods and averts his eyes. His cheek ticks, “I… would you mind humouring me? I don’t know, this place, I can hear everything. I just need something to distract me.”

You smile, a small expression of commiseration.

“Sure, I… I think I need that too.”

You don’t know how it happened. The gasp that escapes you is as much from the realisation as the pleasure of the situation. Steve’s tongue glides up between your folds as you arch your backs, the sheets twisted around your body as you writhe. You bring your thighs up, clamping them on either side of his head as he coaxes to his whim.

Just like any other night, you sat beside him and listened to him read. Nothing very riveting, a novel about a man on the run. You slumped against his shoulder and his hand rested on your thigh before you succumbed to the tension. You didn’t think, you just did.

And there you are, puffing and whining as this man covets your body. As his hands explore your thighs and hips, gripping, groping, kneading, feeling everything with intense admiration. Your fingers twine into his golden hair, urging him deeper.

It’s been far too long since you felt affection. Well before your husband. The intimacy is nearly overwhelming, nestling along your eyelids and threatening to overflow as you bask in the fiery warmth. A man, this man, touches you like you are a true treasure. He doesn’t drag, and fling, and bend you like a toy.

You tug on his silky locks, moaning his name as he follows your desperate motion. His wet lips graze your stomach, smearing between your tits as he lifts himself over you. He hovers above you, his breath sweet with your flavour. You frame his face between your hands.

“Make love to me,” you beg, a ridiculous statement from a ridiculous dime store romance. But there’s no other way to say it. You want to be loved, not flaunted, not used, “please, Steve, I need–”

He crashes his lips into yours, humming as he swallows up your words. You feel his need, his desire, the same desperation coursing through him. You sling your arms around his neck and welcome him in. Even if it’s only convenient, you want to feel him. You want to feel everything he makes you feel.

For once, you get to choose what you want.

“Steve,” you croak as he opens the car door, shoving you in as the streets like gleam in your eyes, “where–”

“Be quiet and get in,” he orders as he ushers you into the seat.

The door snaps before you can say anything else. He quickly moves around the hood and gets in the driver’s side. He turns the key and the engine rolls over. He says nothing as he backs out, his hand on your headrest as he cranes to squint behind him.

He veers out of the lot and onto the street. You buckle your belt just before you can slide forward into the dash. You brace the door as he slows and steers neatly into a lane. You wipe the sleep from your eyes.

He sighs and pushes his head back, “we stayed too long… we… we were stupid.”

“Steve,” you sniff, “I know but…”

“It was nice,” he admits, “it really was but– Fuck, I could lose my job.”

“I’m sorry, Steve, I never should’ve–”

“I made the first move,” he clucks, “please, it’s my own fault. I just wanted it to last forever.”

Your silent as your vision blurs and you look out onto the street, the tall lightpoles bleary as your tears obscure them, “me too.”

“North. There’s a safehouse. That’s where they’re sending us. You.”

“What? Are you… are you leaving?”

“I have to. Orders. Procedure. I have to hand you off to a new agent.”

“Oh,” your chest pits and you hug yourself, “so this is goodbye?”

He frowns as yellow light flashes through the windows and illuminates his features. He grips the wheel and exhales heavily. His cheek dimples as he nods.

“We have leave to stop at a motel north of Cherrywood. We’ll say goodbye there.”

Steve takes the backroads. The trip is both slow and too fast. The end draws closer and closer with an inevitability that makes your heart ache. You don’t love Steve but you’ll miss his easy confidence and his warmth.

You don’t say much as the wheels roll on. You don’t know what to say. Your respite at the hotel only left you feeling worse. All you were losing was left back in that rented room. All that you’ll never know again. You know as well as Steve that this is a one way trip.

“Wilson’s a good guy,” he breaks the silence, “nice. Easy to talk to.”

He’s not you. The thought stays where it belongs as you lean your chin in your hand, “I’m sure.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“Mhmm,” you sit back and cross your arms, “where am I going?”

“Another safe house, I’d think. The less people know the better, right? That’s the order of things.”

“For how long?”

He shrugs. You scratch your neck as you stretch it. You’ve been in that damn car so long, every part of you feels compressed. You square your shoulders wide and push your legs out as far as they’ll go.

He falls back into his former lull, following the winding road between the dense crowd of evergreen. It’s oddly desolate. Even in daylight, the trunks are shrouded in blackness. You watch the passing of the great sentinels as they blur into each other, errant branches on the forest floor and twigs littered at the edge of the road.

You’re drawn from your mournful rumination of what you’re leaving behind and the mounting dread of what comes next. You look up as the tires slow and you see a dark vehicle ahead, at the dip of the next valley. Steve eases onto the brake as he pulls up, a man against the hood of an SUV waits in a dark blue jacket and sunglasses.

You look over at Steve. He gives a nod then glances back through the windshield, “Wilson.”

He doesn’t wait for you as he climbs out. You follow only after a minute, trying to gather a semblance of calm. You’ve done it before. You did it for years on Tony’s arm. You can do it again. Everything is fine. You’re fine.

“Well, here she is,” Steve announces.

“‘Bout time. I’m pretty sure I saw a bear waiting on your ass,” the other man, Wilson, comments.

Steve looks back as you linger by the car and waves for you to come forward. Reluctantly you drag your feet across the cracked tarmac. The other man flips up his sunglasses and considers you from head to toe.

“All yours,” Steve says coolly. His indifference stings. He’s acting, he has to.

The other man pushes away from the front of his car and nears you. You wince in surprise as he reaches to your belt. Before you can react, he has your hand and hooks a leather cuff around your wrists. He tightens the buckle and you try to pull away from him.

He jars you with a mean yank and twists your arm behind you. As he fumbles to secure your other wrist, you whimper, “Steve.”

Steve raises his chin, the sunlight reflecting in his crystal blue eyes. He turns to you and smirks, “that’s Agent Rogers.”

“What’s going on?” You struggle as Wilson latches onto the link between the cuffs.

“Protective custody,” Steve declares as he comes closer. You frown as you bat your eyes, an icy dagger sinking into your chest with each step, “doll, it was fun while it lasted, wasn’t it?”

The room is freezing. You don’t expect any different. It’s one of his warehouses. Wilson brought you there, left you on that metal chair, cuffs hooked around a bar along the back, one on each ankle, binding them to the legs. You shiver and drop your head, waiting.

You knew. You knew all along. From the day you walked into the police station. It could never work. You could never escape Tony Stark. He can buy anyone; you, Steve, Wilson…

A metal door rolls open loudly and clangs back into place. Footsteps echo across the concrete. As you raise your head, a shadow appears in the dim of the large door frame. A bulb above you hangs on wire, casting a sobering hue over you.

Tony steps into the umbrella of light and you sit back, raising your chin defiantly. It never does much to pout, to play nice. It’s too late for that now. You both know what you did.

He stops in front of you, pushing the bottom of his jacket back to rest his hand on his pistol. You watch the movement, thumb brushing along the butt. You take a breath, ready.

“Hi, Tony,” you look him in the eye.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he steps closer and brings his other hand up to cradle your jaw, pushing your head higher, “I missed ya.”

You laugh sharply, “missed you too.”

“You know, a man goes away for three years and finally gets free. He’s lookin’ forward to coming home to a warm bed, a warm woman,” his thumb caresses along your cheek, “then he finds his house as empty as his cell.”

“Let’s not do this,” you say, “get it over with.”

He tilts his head and his mouth slants. He sucks his teeth as his eyebrows rise in resignation. He sighs as he toys with your lower lip. You feel him tugging at his belt and brace yourself. You wait, expecting the kiss of the hard barrel against your temple.

A cold metal blade slides down the top of your shirt and slices through the fabric. Tony pulls back as he cuts to the hem, the fabric falling open. You cringe and turn your face away. He rescinds the knife and spins it in his hand.

“Honey, you’re home,” he says, “and we got some catching up to do.”

#tony stark #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #tony stark x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #one shot #drabbleshot #mcu #marvel #mob au #au #avengers #captain america #sam wilson #falcon #iron man

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seikkoi · 8 months

Text

ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴘᴛ.3 | tony stark x f!reader

18+ minor dni

tw: nsfw, mild dubcon elements, rough sex, drunk sex, degradation, edging, choking, bruising, possessive behavior, reckless driving

word count: 2373

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗢𝗡𝗘 | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗧𝗪𝗢

“The way you fucking dress-letting anyone touch you when you’re out with me. That fucking bratty attitude. It’s like you know every little thing that sets me off. Really, I don’t know how I held back from you so long.” Tony’s rambling voice darkens in the same moment that he moves his fingers faster. Your eyes flutter-until you remember your driving, reaching down to grab Tony’s hand. Not to your surprise, it’s of little effect. With his other hand, he presses on your knee, forcing you to accelerate. “Tony, stop , okay? I don’t want to crash.” Tony ignores you, pressing your knee further. “I take what I want, honey. You are no exception.”

Behave.

It echoed in your mind the moment it left Tony’s lips. Vowels continued to reverberate between your ears. At his instruction, you changed into a spare dress you kept in your office. You’d draped a cardigan overtop, hiding freshly-sore wrists. The implications for the evening followed you like a cloak back into that godforsaken elevator. This time, Tony presses the button for the garage instead of the lobby. This time, he’s with you, a step ahead and to your right in the cramped space. You find your spot against the wall once more, watching the muscles in his back.

Tony’s wordless- hands clasped in front of his body-calm. The time in the elevator is brief, but the entire time you��re terrified (hoping?) he’s going to repeat his antics.

A breath comes to you once the doors ding open, revealing the cold concrete. You’ve seldom ventured down here at night, having to adjust to the bright fluorescent lights.

Tony steps out and you follow without much thought. You do, however, wonder why he’s brought you here. The confusion only grows when you walk up a sleek black sports car. Happy always met you two outfront, and you’ve never seen Tony drive himself anywhere a day in his life.

Tony heads to the driver side as you stand by the hood, puzzled. When he produces a set of keys from his jacket, you have to bite back the urge to ask if he even k nows how to fucking drive.

He gives the keys a teasing shake, before opening the driver side door and gesturing towards you.

“You can’t be serious,” you say, looking at Tony like he’s insane. It’s not the driving aspect that floors you. In fact, nearly the opposite. At first, you thought the choice in car was just another chance to mess with you. You weren’t much of an autophile, but you mistakenly mentioned your appreciation for this one car in particular to Tony not that long ago.

You honestly thought he would’ve forgotten about your interest in driving it. Or, that he would have driven it himself just to tease you. Actually giving you the keys to your dream car? As per usual, nowhere on your radar. Fucking you, kissing you, then an extremely luxurious gift was even more out of order relationship progression to you, but you’re too bewildered to question it.

Tony’s still waiting, rather patiently in fact. The look on your face is very much worth a little composure.

“Very serious, come on,” he responds, with an upbeat tone. The echo returns, behave bouncing around like a grenade.

And so, you do as you’re told.

You drive, getting occasional directions from Tony in the passenger seat. You don't know how you’re doing it, knuckles white on the steering wheel and your boss’ eyes burning your skin. The city streetlights give fractured illumination to the car while you’re barely breathing. More nervous than you have been in years, your mind still can’t process the last twenty-four hours.

Eventually, the streets turn into highways, and you can breathe once more. A twinge of joy takes over, enamored by the roar of the engine. Unfortunately, it’s not long before you're suffocating again.

In the very last light of day, you notice your sleeves have ridden up, revealing what you wanted to forget. The reality of your day sinks in. You let him do this. Use you, break you down, then entice you with something he knew you wanted. You can’t turn your head, too afraid to see whatever look is painting Tony’s face.

Your body tenses back up, which Tony notices.

The asshole laughs at your tight grip. “What, ‘fraid of me or something?”

You want to turn and glare, curse him, and ask why the fuck wouldn’t you be. He seems to read your mind, though, saving you a world of pain later.

“This is for you .” , he says, caressing your thigh with his hand. “I’m very rewarding.”

“So long as I behave ?”

His touch is more electrifying than before, but you’re hesitant to give him any more satisfaction. You match his intonation, head focused on the road ahead. The rough hand drifts north, moving under your dress to the lace of your underwear.

“Precisely.” Tony teases a finger along your length, relishing in your reluctant tremble. “Not here for games, honey.”

“Why am I here?” You still can’t wrap your head about your boss, Tony Stark, wanting anything to do with you- much less punish you for your disloyalty. The hum of the car moves through your bones. You’re hoping your voice doesn’t show how worked up he’s already making you.

The mission’s a failure once he moves past the lace barrier, properly touching you the way you craved. Tony learned last night what makes you submit to him, pressing hard against your clit to make you grip the wheel even tighter.

He waits until your breath becomes shaky to answer.

“You know, I really did try to leave you alone. For a long, long time.” It comes out slow, with the heavy weight of a confession. It’s partially because he’s too focused on you- every gasps and twitch of your body. His fingers are too active for you to respond, ducking between your clit and your entrance in a sick dance.

“You’re here because I’ve spent all these years trying not to ruin you.” You slow down, the foot pressed to the gas relaxing when you realize Tony isn’t going to stop.

“-Ever since the first interview.”, he says.

Had he really wanted you then, since the first time you met? It reshapes everything to you, makes pent-up anger more desirable. You don’t have time to question before a finger slips inside.

Tony’s rambling voice darkens in the same moment that he moves his fingers faster. Your eyes flutter-until you remember your driving, reaching down to grab Tony’s hand.

Not to your surprise, it’s of little effect. With his other hand, he presses on your knee, forcing you to accelerate.

“Tony, stop , okay? I don’t want to crash.”, you whine while he pushes in a second finger.

Tony ignores you, pressing your knee further.

“I take what I want, honey. You are no exception.”

By some godforsaken miracle, you manage not to cause a multi-vehicle collision. It’s at the added price of Tony’s hand between your legs.

You become the embodiment of everything Tony wanted to see. He wanted to see you devoted, not just to his name, but to him. You’d done that five days a week for years- you just needed to not be a whore while you did.

You acted as his perfect reflection- careful with your attention. You seldom left his arm as the night carried on. You’d sweet talked investors all the same (under your boss’s watchful eye.) How you managed to persuade money out of other entrepreneurs pockets and into Tony’s felt criminal at times. The dedication you gave to your job was what drew him to you in the first place.

Even before you were hired, you rambled about how much good you do for Stark Industries- “ if only you give me a chance”

They’re famous last words, because now he had you pinned to the wall again.

Only this time, Tony’s kissing you softly, peppering down your neck while he praises your good behavior. “Excellent” and “perfect” flow like a chant between pauses. His calloused hands run along your body, but without anger. He touches you like you’re fine art he’s scared to ruin.

You’d driven back to the office after dinner- his idea. You half expected him to send you off, but he opened the driver’s side door instead. Wanting to still please him, you followed him up to his penthouse without a word. The second the door closed, Tony was on you.

It’s a sudden assault, the CEO’s lips sucking at your pulse point and running light hands across your body. He touches you as if it’s the first time- the right way, until you're barely able to hold yourself up from the stimulation.

You aren’t used to this from Tony- hell, you’re barely used to him at all. You think back to the elevator only a few yards away, how he took you, finishing inside you without question or doubt. It’s mind-splitting- the gentle passion and praise he afforded you now versus the angry lessons he instilled for the last day. How could he hurt you and still leave you this needy for more?

Tony pants as he pulls away, cupping your face. Your eyes flutter open to a pleased grin, Tony’s arm wrapped around your waist. His irises are covered in the same dark lust that sends a shudder through you, but this time you're given no pain- just the need to beg Tony to kiss you again.

The urge overwhelms you, leaning forward to try and capture his lips. Tony’s hand threads through your hair, pulling you slightly back with a soft tsk .

“So needy, are you?” There’s an edge in his voice, but his expression remains.

“Yes.”, you whisper through gritted teeth.

It’s a reality that you hate. You hated that he could indeed have anything he wanted, including you. He knew just where to touch, what to say, and where to hurt you. You followed damn near every command Tony gave because the fear of disappointing him was worse. That was the case even before the elevator.

You felt lucky to even know him. Tony knew that meant he could make you his almost effortlessly. It didn’t take much to turn your dedication into something more. All you wanted was to please him. If that took a little punishment, so be it. Hearing his praise now was too addicting- you’d do nearly anything for it.

Tony, aroused at your honesty, returns his mouth to yours with a hungry fervor. He trails his way back down your neck, hands reaching behind you to unzip your dress.

The fabric pools at the floor while you try not to cry out when his mouth finds your nipple. Tony has a bigger mission, however, only biting at the sensitive flesh for a moment- continuing his path down your stomach, kneeling before you.

It’s an overpowering sight- biting your lip as Tony kisses his way up your leg, his soft sighs filling your ears.

You look down and meet Tony’s when he stops near the apex of your legs, fingers hooked in lace panties.

The hooked fingers remove your underwear, and Tony moves your right leg over his shoulder. Teasing kisses along your inner thigh follow-and you groan in response. Your hand reaches out, gripping at his opposite shoulder. You’d hope that would inspire him to just give you what you wanted already.

“I’m a very simple man.” He punctuates his sentence with another kiss to your inner thigh.

“I have no problem giving you the world, doll, as long as you earn it.” Tony looks up at your touch-starved face, wearing that same satisfied smile.

“I will, I promise.” The words come out before you realize what you've said. It’s the truth all the same.

The moment they do, however, Tony’s grin widens, leaning forward to finally reward you.

His tongue darts along your length, darting up to swirl against your clit with each trip. The sudden pleasure sends you arching into him. As much as Tony wants to hold you in place and make you take everything he has to give, this is your reward after all.

He moves in at an even pace, slow enough to let you feel every movement and moan escaping him. Your hand at his shoulder tightens, chest heaving and mouth stuck in an open gasp. Tony is precise, drawing intricate patterns with his tongue. His hands tighten on your hips at the sounds you make. You’re almost certain he’s enjoying this more than you.

He nearly is, relishing in how good you were for him, how good you’re being for him. Tony can’t decide what’s better, the way you sound or the way you taste. It’s hard for him not to lose himself in you, quickening his tongue and lapping at your entrance. Either way, he considers you beyond perfect in this moment. That’s true in any event, but the strain in his suit pants is biased.

“ Tony ,” you moan out, barely able to form another thought. Though, you're not sure what you’re begging for- he was already giving you more than you could ask for.

Your moans become more feverish and shaky, your other hand coming to the brown locks below you. You knew he’d never let you control him, but the heat in your cunt was turning unbearable and you needed to touch him.

Tony groans when he feels that you're close, the vibration running straight through you. He doesn’t relent, using the hands on your hips to bring you closer. His attention turns to your clit, grazing his teeth until you start to shudder against him once more. It doesn’t continue for long- stars flooding your vision while your thighs involuntarily try to jerk away. Tony forces you back, making you ride out your high on his tongue. All you can manage are a string of pleasure-ridden curses and cries of Tony’s name as he does.

Once you are able to think clearly again, you notice Tony’s wet face and ever-present smile. Seeing him on his knees now was more overwhelming than earlier. When he meets your eyes, he swiftly slides a finger into your sensitive cunt, making you groan. You’re soaked, causing a filthy sound as he does.

“T-Tony, what are yo-” Your question is cut off by a whimpering moan when the finger inside you curves upwards.

“What, not so needy anymore?”, he taunts.

You try to push his shoulders away, the stimulation near blinding. Tony, nowhere near finished you, shoves you back to the wall.

“You’re done when I say you are.”

#mcu fanfiction #tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #tony stark fic #tony stark smut #tony stark x oc #tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #marvel fanfiction #smut #avengers smut #seikkoiwrites #tw dubious consent #tw dubcon

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winterspiderpurrs · 3 months

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Alpha SIM Tony Stark trying to find the perfect mate for his precious omega son Peter. Someone he is VERY possessive over. Cause Peter is HIS Perfect creation.

Maybe he puts out an article about a contest. Hunger Games styles. Who ever lived gets the honor of mating his son.

But Tony was not expecting his number one inforcer, the Winter Soldier himself, to enter the contest.

#writing prompt #winterspider #peter parker x bucky barnes #omegaverse au #omega peter parker #alpha bucky barnes #alpha tony stark #sim tony #sim!tony stark #dark bucky barnes #dark tony stark #winterspiderpurrs

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revengewitch · 2 months

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Omg this is so embarrassing I'm losing my shit...like I'm not even old wtf happened to my brain

#marvel #ao3 #peter parker #tony stark #archive of our own #dark tony stark #iron man #irondad #spider man #spiderman #ao3 writer #writer

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darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor · 10 months

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No Time This Time Masterlist

Summary: You prize order and practicality but your past, and newest client, throw your life into chaos. (Tony Stark)

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

#tony stark #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #tony stark x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #mcu #marvel #iron man #avengers

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acriminalmind · 1 year

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It Takes 2

Male Reader x Tony Stark

Oneshot

Summary: On a mission, you get infected by sex pollen. You want to lock yourself in your room until it’s over, but Tony has other plans.

Warnings: sex pollen, smut, pet names, praise, Dom Tony, Sub Reader, oral, anal, masturbating, manipulation, soft dark Tony, blindfold, gagging, voyeurism, daddy kink.

I finally found some time in my busy study schedule to finish one of my concepts.

[updated on the 30th of January 2023]

Enjoy!

When you walked into the Avengers compound after finishing your mission you knew something was wrong. Your whole body felt like it was set on fire. Sweat was slowly soaking through your mission uniform. A few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who you pass on your way to your room tried to talk to you, but your head was too consumed with sinful thoughts to even notice someone else's presence. You unlocked your bedroom door with shaking hands, almost dropping the key a few times. Shallow breaths left your mouth while entering your room. As fast as you had closed and locked the door behind you you started to ridden yourself off your clothes. Not caring at the moment where the pieces of fabric would end up you just mindlessly threw them around you. You walked into the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom. When you stood in front of the mirror and looked into it you saw your shaking form. As your eyes lowered you were met with your hard throbbing cock which was standing proudly against your muscled abdomen. A little precum was dripping down your shaft. A moan escaped your mouth. With the activation of your voice, your shower turned on. You hissed when the freezing cold water touched your skin when you stepped under the shower. The hope of a cold shower curing your current state disappeared when it felt like your cock became even harder. After a few minutes, you gave up. You turned the shower off and stepped out of the shower cabin. With tears in your eyes, you slide down against the wall. You grab your cock in your right hand and started stroking, not noticing that your bedroom door was unlocked.

The moment you had walked back into the Avengers compound Tony got a notification of it. He had been waiting for your return. When he had sent you on your mission he knew in which state you would return. It would be the perfect opportunity to finally claim what was his. You. Tony watched you walk towards your room and ignore some annoying agents. When you had closed your door behind you he switched to the live footage from the secret cameras he had placed in your bed and bathroom. A groan left his mouth when your body was on full display for him, without you even knowing it, after you had undressed. Tony unbuttoned his trousers and pushed his hands underneath his boxers towards his hard cock. With his thumb, he spread the precum over his tip.

After his seed started to spill he decided it was time to help you out of your misery. He grabbed the spare key that he had made out of his drawer en started to walk towards his destination while humming a happy tune.

You were beyond desperation. It didn't matter how long you jerked yourself off you just couldn't reach your peak. At this moment you just sat against the wall of your bathroom with your hard cock in your motionless hand. Your cheeks were covered in dry tears. When the door of your bathroom opened and Tony walked in and kneeled beside you you didn't even move a muscle, too distracted by the burning feeling of your skin. "Oh, baby boy. Look at you. Don't worry. Daddy is here now and daddy will take good care of you." He took your cock in his hand and started stroking it. Your eyes closed at the feeling. It felt different when he did it. Better. The room filled with your soft moans. "Good boy. Let daddy take of you." You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your moans started to get louder, signaling to Tony you were almost reaching the edge you had been longing for. He bowed his head and took the tip of your member into his mouth. His tongue swirled around it before taking more of your cock into his mouth. It felt like you were seeing stars at the moment. His mouth felt as soft as silk. "T-tony... Imma, I'm gonna...C-cum...P-please." Tony pulled away and looked you in the eyes and he said "then come for me, y/n. Come for your daddy" before he returned to blow you. The bubble was growing bigger and bigger until it finally burst. Your seed filled Tony's mouth while he helped you ride out your orgasm. After Tony pulled away from your cock, which was still rock hard but slightly less painful, he swallowed your seed and pulled you into a passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips. He forced your mouth so he could enter with his tongue. When air became a problem he retracted, but he kept your faces close to each other. His dark lustful eyes looked deep into your drugged ones. "Daddy isn't done with you yet. Curing you will take more than a hand- and blowjob. Let's take this to the bed, shall we?" Without any resistance, he pulled you up from the floor en walked you into the bedroom. The drugs in your system had completely taken over your body and filled your mind with horny thoughts. There was no resistance from you. Tony placed you on the bed and helped you on all fours. "Just like that, baby. Stay in this position and daddy will make you feel so good." Tony undressed and took his place behind you on the bed. He used his black tie to blindfold you and his boxers to gag you. He slid his hands over your body. His touch alone made you moan into the makeshift gag. Your skin was already really sensitive because of the pollen in your system, but the lack of eyesight now your eyes were covered by his tie made it almost unbearable.

When his hands reached your asscheeks, he spread them open to spit on your gaping hole. He first enters one finger, which makes you whimper in slight discomfort. When you quiet down he takes this as a sign to put in a second one. "Your so tight, my beautiful boy. No one has taken you from behind before? Daddy is so happy he will be the first. It will hurt at the beginning, but daddy will make the pain turn into pleasure. I promise." His fingers cross inside of you and you moan. You can taste his seed on his boxers and you love it. With your tongue, you try to get more off of it until there’s nothing left. It leaves you wanting more.

When Tony pulls his fingers out of you he grabs both your hips with his hands, squeezing the flesh on your body. With his right hand, he lands a smack on your ass. At this point, your cock is leaking on the sheets.

Slowly Tony moves his hips forward so the tip of his hardened cock is nudging against your back entrance. You push your ass against him, silently begging for him to enter. Another slap lands on your ass as you hear him let out a laugh. "So eager already, huh? I think daddy needs to start training you after today so you stay a good boy." You let out a silent whine. “Calm down, baby. Let daddy do his job.”

Slowly and inch by inch he enters you. He listens carefully to the sounds you’re making so he doesn't hurt you. Today is about pleasure and not about punishment. He will teach you about that soon enough. When he is fully inside of you he doesn’t move for a few seconds while stroking your back. "Keep breathing, angel. Daddy will move soon." The feeling of his soft hand slowly stroking over your bare back calms you down in an instant. It’s soothing. When he notices you’re calm he starts to slowly move, sliding almost completely out of you, leaving only the tip in before sliding back in again. He keeps his pace slow but firm. It’s destroying you how slow he goes, but he still hits that little spot when he pushes back in. His grunts are getting louder the longer he thrusts inside of you. You can feel that he is holding himself back from roughly fucking you. Something you really need and really want right now, so you start to move your ass back against his pelvis. He smiles at your eagerness and he can’t deny his want to fuck you hard and rough. "You want daddy to go harder? All you had to do was ask, baby. A good boy uses his words when he talks to his daddy, but I will let it slide today, but next time I will bend you over daddy's lap for being so greedy." He starts thrusting into you with a rougher pace. He bows over you and grunts into your ear, making you even more subby. He nibbles your ear and kisses your neck, leaving hickeys. "Oh, baby. You feel so good around me. Taking me so good. Such a good pet for daddy." Your moans are muffled but loud enough for Tony to enjoy. He wants to hear you better tho, so he pulls his wet boxers out of your mouth and throws them somewhere behind him. "Scream for me, y/n. I want the whole compound to hear who fucks you so good. Let them know who's daddy's good boy." He hoists you up so your back is against his hairy chest. One of his hands is wrapped around your throat, slowly squeezing it while the other is stroking your leaking cock. "D-daddy, ‘m gonna cum. Can I cum, pwease?" You don't see it but he smirks against your neck at hearing you call him daddy. "It’s okay baby. Daddy is gonna cum too, baby. Cum with me. Make a mess for daddy." A loud moan leaves your mouth and you cum, covering your bedsheets with your white juices. Tony grunts in your ear and you can feel him filling you up with his seed. Another moan leaves your mouth at the feeling. He lets go of your throat and lays you on the bed while laying on top of you with his cock still buried deep inside you. Tiredness overtakes your body and your eyes start to close. "M tired daddy," Tony kisses the top of your head and answers "You can sleep, my beautiful boy. I just need to fuck you a couple more times to make sure there is no more sex pollen in your system, but don't worry darling. Daddy will take care of it. Close your eyes. Tomorrow is your first day of training and you will need the energy. I love y/n." Sleepily you answer, ‘I love you too, daddy.’ And with that said you fall into a peaceful slumber. When Tony is sure you’re fully asleep he carefully slips out of you so he can push your knees underneath your body. After he has removed his tie from your eyes he retakes his position behind you and slips back in. “Everything is gonna be okay, my sweet, sweet boy.” The room then fills up with the sound of skin-on-skin slapping and Tony’s loud grunts.

Onto The Next!

Masterlist One, Two

#tony stark #dark tony stark #tony stark smut #tony stark x reader #tony stark x male reader #marvel #tony marvel #tony stank #The Avengers

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