Robert Downey Jr Fanfic - Blog Posts

Body Electric - Tony Stark

Summary ➣ You and Tony work through your insecurities, together. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 1.4k words Warnings ➣ Mature, Body Insecurity, Mild Nudity. Request ➣ Ask Author's Notes ➣ Requested by @welldonekhushi, Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. However, if you're interested in beta-reading, please let me know!

You winced as the edge of your Louboutins scraped against your flesh.

Your once pristine skin, now an angry shade of red, was revealed as the heels were carelessly discarded onto the carpeted floor of Tony’s bedroom.

You always prided yourself on being flawless and put together, but in this moment, you couldn't deny the pain caused by the sight of the shoes. On one hand, they encapsulated Tony’s adoration for you, how he was willing to buy you anything you’d ever desired. On the other hand, they were a symbol of everything you tried to cover up—your looks, your desire to appear mature, your self-doubts. 

As you kicked them off onto the plush carpet, you couldn't help but feel conflicted about the persona you had forced yourself to maintain. The persona who used her appearance to mask her insecurities, and who constantly sought to cover up any minute flaw as if they were parasites, latching onto your skin. Even now, as you undressed under prying eyes nowhere to be found but your own, you couldn't shake off the feeling of this uncomfortable façade. 

Compared to Tony, you felt like nothing, a shadow in the glow of his perfection. Tony was everything you yearned to be—charming, confident, and most importantly, effortlessly attractive. His character only magnified your insecurities, the chasm between who you were and who you pretended to be.

In front of the multitude of cameras and paparazzi, it felt like every minute action and detail was analyzed by the media. You recalled the first time you had gone out with Tony in public, it had not been more than a day before almost every news outlet caught wind of it.

Each headline felt more painful than the next, some accusing you of being with Tony for his money, some poking fun of him for dating a ‘normal’ woman and not some Victoria’s Secret supermodel. It felt like everybody was criticizing every part of you, breaking you down into nothing but imperfect pieces to dissect. 

Spending hours in front of a vanity became second nature to you, fingers blistering from the scalding hot curling iron accidentally burning your skin, applying layers upon layers of makeup. Just to get ready to attend some gala, while adorning Tony’s arms like the multitude of watches that lined his suit cuffs. 

You stood in front of the large window, overlooking the dark horizon over the ocean. Your soft reflection was staring back at you. You frowned, despising seeing yourself devoid of any makeup.

Tony was still cleaning himself up in the bathroom, you had already taken off your dress, in its place—an ashen silk Brunello Cucinelli evening gown that Tony had bought for you, claiming it ‘accentuates’ your eyes. 

“Hey.” You heard Tony approach you from behind as you felt his touch on your smaller figure, you felt the warmth of his skin against yours through his black tank top and sweats. The musky scent of his cologne graced your senses.  

His fingers traced a deliberate path down your sides before settling on your waist. His touch was gentle yet possessive as he pulled you closer to him, pressing you into the softness of his chest; his chin resting on your shoulder. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his shirt, accompanied by the faint buzz of the arc reactor embedded in his chest. 

Tony’s lips found your neck as he grazed the skin with his teeth, a soft sigh escapes you as his teeth dragged along your pulse point. The soft sensation of his kisses against your skin sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his breath; hot against your ear. Your fingers reached down, intertwining gently with his. While your other hand brushed through his hair, strands of chestnut brown fell between your fingers as you savored the bristly texture.

Tony’s warm body was a comforting contrast against the cold room. As your bodies moved together, he led you to the bed, where he carefully laid you down as gently as possible, as if any false move would shatter you to pieces. His delicate movements were always so contradicting to his persona outside the blanket of intimacy.

He lowered himself for another kiss, his strong arms braced on either side of your head as his lips met yours. You tasted the slight hint of whiskey, still lingering on his tongue—sweet and bitter. Your hands traced along his jaw, feeling the prickly stubble of his salt-and-pepper goatee against your palm. 

"I love you." Tony's warm breath tickled your lips as he whispered and gently pulled away, his million-dollar-smile lighting up his face. But a small part of you couldn't help but wonder if those three simple words were truly enough.

“Love you too.” You handed back the statement but Tony could feel something was amiss. Your eyelids drooped and your tone was hesitant, causing a knot of unease to form in his stomach. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Tony's hand, warm and gentle, glides through your hair with a tentative touch. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, his gaze soft. You feel a pang of guilt wash over you as you see the slight crease in Tony's brow. A heavy silence hangs between you as the weight of your inhibitions settles in your gut, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

“I just—don’t know what you see in me, Tony.” You frowned as you spoke, your words barely audible in a hushed whisper. 

“Angel,” Tony whispers, “You’re beautiful—so fucking beautiful.”

“You really think so?” His words nearly caused tears to spill, you sniffled. The edges of your eyes tearing up.

“"I know so," Tony's warm smile lit up his face and he gently caressed your cheek with his thumb as he tried to cheer you up. The motion of his touch felt so soothing, easing the tension in your heart. Without even realizing it, you found yourself mirroring his contagious smile. "I wish you could see how perfect you are, you’re the most important thing to me, baby. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

"It just feels like you're, y’know—Tony Stark, confidently striding through life with all the grandeur and charisma, while I'm just me," you admitted, self-deprecation evident in your tone.  

“Please don't compare yourself to me, your flaws and imperfections are what make you perfect in my eyes.” An idea suddenly came to him, “Let me express my love for you; lay back and let me show you how much I love you.”

As you rested your head on the soft silk pillows, you couldn't help but feel a wave of shame wash over you. Your nightgown was discarded, leaving you exposed in only your undergarments. In moments like these with Tony, you always found ways to hide your body; dimming the lights, covering yourself with sheets—anything that would conceal yourself. But this time, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. 

“Look at me, my love, don’t be shy.” With gentle insistence, Tony's hand guides your chin back to meet his gaze. 

The warmth of Tony's hand enfolds yours once again, strong and sure. His other hand trails gently along your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine. As he presses his body against yours, the weight is a comforting pressure that grounds you in the moment. He starts with soft kisses on the tips of your fingers, before trailing them up and back down your arm. Each touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the moment as his hands explored every inch of you with a reverence that made your heart ache with longing. Tony’s hands moved with purpose, exploring every curve and contour of your figure as if he were trying to memorize every inch of you. 

As the lights were gently dimmed, he reached out and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together, his arms wrapped around you as your foreheads met in a tight embrace, your bodies pressed together as if trying to merge into one. It was quiet, the only noises were your synchronized breaths and the pulse of the reactor, and in that moment, it was as if the whole world had faded away, leaving only you and Tony at its center. 

“You’re my everything, I love you, so, so much.” 

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Money, Money, Money - Tony Stark

CHAPTER 1 Summary ➣ Starting off as simple, transactional love during the height of Tony’s alcoholism, devolves into something real. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 1.2k words Warnings ➣ Slow Burn, Power Imbalance, Enemies to Lovers, Large age gap, Mildly Pretentious Narrator. Author's Notes ➣  The first, full-fledged Tony Stark series, so excited for this! I've always wanted to write a Materialistic!Reader so here it is! Happy readings <3

On the 86th floor of Stark Tower, atop a mini-bar, sat a delicate glass of Vodka Martini, 3 fluid-ounce Yamazaki, 1 fluid-ounce dry vermouth, with 3 small olives minutely pierced onto a thin gold-plated skewer. 

The thin stem of the crystal glass was passed to your gauzy, manicured fingers, in exchange for a crisp stack of ten dollar bills surrendered to the bartender, you didn’t bother to count. 

The plump skewer of olives swirled freely in your nearly full martini; minute drops threatened to spill over the edge of its fine rim. Luckily, you had caught the droplets before they had been discarded onto the carpeted floor.

Figures adorned in hues of gold and silver flitted about the lavish parlor, each mirrored the twinkling lights of the Manhattan skyline outside in their respective shimmering gowns, each one more expensive than the last. 

The atmosphere was lively, yet the main attraction has yet to arrive. You had heard mentions of the infamous Stark around; his name carried a certain mystique, spoken under hushed whispers amongst the attendees. You had never really met him face-to-face, considering he was the CEO of the company, but your position at Stark Industries held up a pretty good reputation, earning you enough, and granting you an invite to the party.

“Do you think he’s seeing anyone?” You picked up on the conversation between a few women sitting next to you on the barstools. The woman in question, doused in the overwhelming scent of Chanel No. 5, was dressed in a form-fitting Valentino dress. Her voice carried through the air with a thick New-Yorkean accent, a bleak resemblance to her flashy, ostentatious appearance. 

“Quit it, stop trying to get into Stark’s pants. You never will.” The blonde next to you responded, patting the other on the shoulder playfully. You caught a glimpse of her manicured nails, adorned with a glossy velvet finish in a similar fashion to your own. However, unlike yours—which were neatly trimmed, the cuticles of her nails were a bit messy. A detail that wouldn't normally matter, but for some reason stood out to you in that moment.

Is she wearing a Cartier bracelet? Your jaw clenched at the sight of her bracelet, sparkling with diamonds and catching the light in a way that made your own bracelet pale in comparison, it was obviously more expensive than yours. The fact alone pissed you off. 

The room was filled with a swarm of pretentious individuals, each one flaunting their wealth and superiority. It was suffocating, being surrounded by so many egotistical assholes with their holier-than-thou attitudes. They may have money, but it didn't make them any less shallow or arrogant. You had this sixth-sense of being able to tell how much of an asshole specifically by what adorned their money-laced wrists—whether or not they wore a Patek Phillipe or a Jaeger was enough insight into their entire persona. 

“I’ve got a better chance than you at least, Stark would love me!” The first woman's voice snapped like a taut wire, dripping with disdain. Her eyes narrowed and glinted with malice as she shot dirty looks at the others, her loathing almost palpable.

Holier-than-thou attitude, as you had said.

You thought their behavior immature, not wanting to pay attention anymore to such infantile arguments. Fighting over some uber-rich billionaire who could give less of a shit who you are after you had warmed his bed for a single night? 

Pfft, fuck no, you were just here for the cocktails.

You brought the crystal glass to your lips, and took your first sip. The alcohol burnt as it cascaded down your throat, leaving your mouth with a spicy aftertaste, you could never really get used to a Martini. 

A part of you was contemplating asking for more, but the sensible side knew that ending up slobbering drunk at a party and waking up at the ungodly hour of 2pm with missing jewelry and a killer hangover was not exactly your idea of a good time.

The smooth sip of your drink is abruptly halted by the sharp sound of glass shattering, followed by the shrill voices of the ladies engaged in a vicious argument. Their heated words and swinging arms in-turn send glasses crashing to the ground, littering the once-pristine carpet with sparkling shards of broken glass. 

“Did you just call me a bitch?” The blonde's voice rose to a screeching crescendo as she yelled, her face flushed with anger. With a loud thud, she slammed her purse onto the table.

“Yeah, I did—bitch!” Another responded, her voice a bit more high pitched than the other, yet still carrying the same sanctimonious attitude, standing up and facing her with a smug smirk on their face. 

“Now, ladies. Must we really be resorting to calling each other names?” A voice echoed from atop the stairwell. The women’s dispute had been abruptly quelled, the whole room seemed silenced, and all eyes seemed to be glued onto the figure.

There stood Tony Stark, dressed in a perfectly-styled, deep-burgundy suit, no doubt Tom Ford, the barchetta pocket gave it away. His hair was styled in his signature quiff, slicked back to a T. And of course, he topped off the ensemble with a pair of red sunglasses, which you’d always found amusing since he'd wear them indoors. 

“Welcome, everybody. I would introduce myself, but it seems that you know who I am.” Each step he takes down the glass staircase, each time his Louboutin boots hit the glass stairs, resulted in a loud, echoed clap, which resonated across the room. “I’d personally like to thank all of you for attending. As you know, it happens to be my anniversaire today, so I thought to myself, why not throw a party?”

"What's with all the staring, is my suit on backwards?" Tony joked, his eyes scanning the room as he flashed his signature smirk. You knew, however, he thrived on attention, as if it were fuel for his larger-than-life persona. Flamboyant was practically his middle name; Tony Flamboyant Stark does have a nice ring to it, you chuckled.

"Jarvis," Tony’s voice carried a hint of excitement as he spoke to his AI, "let's crank up the music and get this party started." The monotone response did as so. 

After Tony made his grandeur entrance, you retreated to your lone seat at the bar, grateful for the temporary escape from the chaos. The previously bickering women had vanished, leaving a few neighboring barstools conveniently open for your solitude. You took a deep breath and savored the cool air conditioning and the soft murmur of conversation floating around you.

But just when you thought you had some peace and quiet, you heard the shuffling of a chair being pulled out next to you. Expecting one of the argumentative ladies to return, you turned to find Tony  Stark himself settling into the seat beside you, nonchalantly pulling out his wallet and fishing out a few bills.

"So, could I buy you a drink?" 

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Playboy - Tony Stark

Summary ➣ Tony Stark invites you into his Rolls Royce. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 2.5k words Warnings ➣ 18+ / Car Sex / Power Imbalance / Age Gap. Author's Notes ➣ The first full Tony Stark oneshot! Comments are highly appreciated <3 Requests are also open!

You didn’t know exactly how you ended up here. 

The events leading up to your current situation were a blur, like trying to see through thick fog. 

Here you were, seated in the plush backseat of Tony Stark's lavish Rolls Royce Phantom. A variety of crystal glasses in all shapes and sizes were scattered haphazardly, some full, most empty. The rich aroma of Macallan 1926 filled the air. A bottle had been tipped on its side, its deep tones spilling onto the seat and seeping into a crevice of the leather, leaving behind a multitude of stains, You wonder how many times Tony had to pay someone to clean up these messes.

The past few hours were a hazy mix of neon lights and blaring speakers, the repercussions of Shoot to Thrill by AC/DC filling your ears.  

Then you recalled that Tony had spotted you at Stark Expo, at the Arc Reactor exhibit, standing in front of the machine, mesmerized by the pulsing reactor and the hypnotic hum that filled the room. 

Tony had made the first approach and talked to you for a while, although most of the conversation consisted of you awkwardly sucking up to him, while another part of you was afraid of saying something embarrassing or coming off as too eager.

You never thought you'd be graced with the opportunity to even be in the same room as Tony Stark, let alone talk to him face-to-face. But as the conversation went on, you felt more and more intimidated. You had always admired Tony and maybe even had a bit of a crush on him, but now that he was standing in front of you, you didn't know what to say or do. 

However, when you were invited to his limousine, you couldn't resist. He had lured you in like a moth into flame. 

The air was thick with tension, your fingers found themselves subconsciously fidgeting, you were sitting mere inches away from Tony after all; who was currently fiddling with a Cuban cigar. Your heart raced with a cocktail of excitement and fear - after all, this was the Tony Stark, one of the most influential figures in the world, and you were just a mere woman-in-the-street. This man probably had more money in his wallet than you’d ever have in your entire life. 

Tony seemed to have picked up on your nervousness, reaching over to the mini-fridge and picking up another bottle of liquid courage. The cigar had found its way in his mouth, and is currently hanging from his lips.

“Mr Stark—” You stuttered, trying to reach for the rear-hinged doors of the car, “I’d think it would be best if I left, it’s getting late.” 

“Relax, honey.” As Tony's hand unexpectedly settled on your wrist, pulling you back, the sudden weight caught you off guard. You couldn't help but flinch when you felt his fingers close around your wrist. His touch gentle yet assertive, a delicate balance that leaves you feeling conflicted. He takes another drag of the cigar.

Internally, you battled with conflicting emotions, but externally, you remained still as his hand steadily guided another crystal glass into your grasp, the weight of the cold drink dragging you back to reality. Initially you wanted to refuse, but you didn’t want to let Stark down, or seem ungrateful—downing the whiskey, you felt the liquid burn your throat.

His hand on yours caused a weighty pause in your conversation, Tony smirked, finding it amusing how tense he made you. Eventually, he breaks the silence by redirecting the conversation towards you. "So, tell me about yourself," he prompts, his tone casual and easy. Another cigar made its way into his mouth. 

You took a moment to recollect your thoughts before answering. "I'm studying at MIT," you replied, "I'm pursuing my degree in Nuclear Engineering." As soon as the words leave your lips, you notice Stark raise an eyebrow in surprise, seemingly impressed by the mention of your alma mater.  

Tony leans back in his seat and exclaims, "Impressive, I’m going to assume I’ve probably funded one of your projects, you’ve been to the September Foundation Grant presentation right?" He turns to look at you, as if trying to make a connection. You nod and continue to take small sips of your Macallan whiskey. 

After a few more rounds, you found yourself becoming less tense around him. 

“—and he’s now the forehead of security, get it?” Tony giggled, clapping his hands at his own joke, his laughter was infectious, and you found yourself laughing along with him, feeling a sense of camaraderie that you hadn't experienced in a long time. He takes another puff of the cigar, attempting to blow smoke rings but failing horrifically, the supposedly circular puffs of smoke coming out in flattened, unidentifiable shapes.

"Mr. Stark-" you began, but were quickly cut off by the man himself.

"Please, dear," Stark offered with a shake of his head, "just call me Tony."

You took a deep breath, trying to muster up courage (as much courage as you could get while being mildly to severely intoxicated, you couldn’t tell at this point), and corrected yourself. "Tony," you said firmly, hoping to sound more confident than you felt. "Why did you invite me here?" The question hung in the air amongst the clouds of smoke.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tony raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I think you’re cute.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his bold statement. Did Tony Stark really just say that to you?

“Fuck, Tony Stark thinks I’m cute, never expected that, ever.” But before you could fully process the unexpected compliment, another thought crossed your mind. “Looking past the obvious," you continued, "why isn’t there some Playboy supermodel in my position? Aren’t you just slumming it?” 

“Your expectations of me are too high, darling,” Tony drawled, his voice dripping with charm and confidence. “Honestly, I’d call Playboy right now and make you a model right away. You’ve got the face for it,” he paused to rake his eyes over your body, biting his lip, “—and the bod.” 

A rush of heat spread through your body at his words, igniting a spark of desire that you couldn't deny. The atmosphere became charged with tension, but this time, in a good way. The constant pet names and lingering gazes from Tony were stirring you up, and you could feel something else crackling in the air between you two.

You wouldn't say no to his advances, not when his gaze was so intense and his touch so electric. After all, who would say no to Tony Stark? His smooth words and charming smile were enough to make any woman weak at the knees, and you were no exception.

“I just think that you could do better.” You muttered, all the confidence draining from you the moment he tries to make a move, you cursed yourself for it. 

“Quit being self conscious and just kiss me.” Tony's words were like a soothing balm to your inner turmoil, urging you to let go of your self-consciousness and just give in to the moment. As he leaned in, his lips met yours in a swift motion that caught you off guard. 

Your hands instinctively found their way to his cheek, pulling him closer to you as you melted into his embrace. While his hands grabbed at your hair, caging you in between his body and the leather seat. The taste of his lips and the warmth of his body enveloped you, drowning out the nagging voice in your head reminding you of all the reasons why this could be a mistake. Tony moaned into your mouth, you took a mental recording of that, hoping to replay it in your head later.

In this moment, nothing else mattered except for the feel of his touch and the heat that pulsed between the two of you. You surrender yourself completely, allowing yourself to be swept away by his kiss.

The cigar was carelessly discarded from his trembling hands, the smoke swirling in lazy wisps around the ash urn. The taste of tobacco still lingered on his lips, a bittersweet reminder of his vice. Your senses were heightened as you pulled away from the kiss, your hair tousled and wild from the frenzied grabbing. The two of you shared round after round of kisses, each one more desperate and passionate than the last till Tony decided to go further.

Tony pushed you down onto the seat, his movements were rough and uncoordinated, but it only added to the thrill. Your body responded to his manhandling, and you could feel yourself getting turned on. You laid horizontally on the car's leather seats, taking in the sight of stars twinkling on the headlining, but your attention was quickly diverted as Tony's lips crashed onto yours once again.

"You look so good underneath me, baby." he whispered in that seductive low tone of his, his mouth mere millimetres from your ear. The warmth of his breath sent shivers down your spine and each vibration of his words seemed to make you even wetter. 

Your breath hitched in surprise as Tony's hand traveled down to your core, his fingers grazing the hem of your dress and revealing more of your skin. You were startled by the sudden move but couldn't deny the heat that pooled between your legs. His touch was tentative, tracing circles over your clothed clit with a slow, teasing stroke. Your moans grew louder as he continued, each touch feeling foreign yet undeniably pleasurable.

"F—Fuck," you gasped as his piercing gaze met yours, those maroon eyes no longer their gentle brown hue.

"God, you're so wet for me," Tony's eyes locked onto yours as he brought his glistening finger to his mouth, savouring the taste with a low moan. Just the sight of it nearly sent you over the edge. "And you taste even better." Your eyes rolled back at his declaration, you’re so close and he hasn’t even started yet. 

Your fingers trembled as they reached for the button of Tony's Tom-Ford dress pants, fumbling with it in a desperate frenzy. In this moment, your entire existence seemed to depend on getting his pants off and feeling his naked skin against yours. Tony's hands were still on your clit, his skilled fingers teasing you mercilessly.

You could barely focus on unbuttoning his pants as he brought you closer and closer to the edge with just two fingers, god he was good. Every touch from him felt like electricity pulsing through your body, igniting every nerve ending and making you forget everything else except for the pleasure he was giving you.

"Please, Tony," you pleaded, your voice breathless and desperate. Your body quivered as two fingers slipped into your slick pussy, the wet sounds echoing in the confined space of the car.

At first, Tony's movements were slow and deliberate, teasing and tempting every inch of your sensitive walls. But he knew how to push all your buttons and soon, you were clenching around his fingers, begging for more.

"I'm gonna come," you gasped out, feeling your orgasm building with each thrust of his fingers.

"Come for me, baby,” Tony growled lowly, his voice making you even more wet. "I wanna see you falling apart on just my fingers." And with those words, you unravelled in a mind-blowing climax, your body trembling and shaking against his skilled touch.

As you came down from your high, you felt a new sensation. You realized you had squirted all over the interior of the car, but at that moment, you didn't care. All that mattered was how good Tony made you feel.

You were dazed and lost in the haze of pleasure when you felt him shuffling over you. His pants were unbuttoned and his cock was in his hand, slowly stroking as he took in the sight before him: your flushed skin, your heaving chest, and the evidence of your pleasure coating the seat beneath you.

You let out a soft gasp as he playfully teases you, running his member along your slit. With regained control over your limbs, your hands find their way into his once-slicked back, now ruffled hair. Your legs lock behind his lower back, pulling him closer to you in an attempt to deepen the connection between you two.

His voice is low and husky as he groans, "Your tight pussy feels so good, darling." As he pushes into you, you feel a fullness that you've never experienced before. The initial sting of pain quickly gives way to a deep pleasure that radiates through your entire body.

"Fuck, I love you, Tony." The words escape your lips before you even have time to register them. The intensity of the moment sparking a declaration that surprises even yourself. But before you can worry about whether it was too soon or not, Tony returns the sentiment.

"Love you too, baby," he whispers as he bottoms out inside of you. You can feel every inch of him inside you, and the sensation causes you to writhe beneath him. His chest is pressed against yours, and you can feel his heart beating through the fabric of his suit that was yet to leave his figure, but you figured you’d see him without the suit another time. 

“Fuck, gonna be a good girl and take my cum?” Tony's deep, ragged breaths spurred you on as his orgasm neared. You could feel your own climax building, your body shuddering in anticipation. Unable to form coherent sentences, you nodded in response.

Your back arched off the leather couch as you reached your peak, crying out in ecstasy as Tony's movements became even more frenzied. "Yes, gonna come so hard, Tony. Need you so bad." Your words were barely audible through your moans as he grunted and thrust into you one final time before the both of you came. 

Breathless and spent, Tony's lips crashed down on yours once again.

The heat between your bodies was almost suffocating as you rode out your high. He remained inside you until he was soft, and when he finally pulled out, a trail of your arousal leaked onto the leather beneath you. A groan escaped him as he took in the sinful sight, but you were too lost in your pleasure-drunk haze to fully register it.

You're too spent to move, but from the hazy corner of your vision, you see him in front of a mirror slicking back his disheveled hair. Still dazed and caught up in the aftermath of your orgasm, it took you a while to gather yourself and get dressed. But as soon as you did, Tony turned to you with his trademark smirk. 

"So, about that Playboy call?"

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Bliss and Honey - Tony Stark

Summary ➣ You and Tony share a moment of intimacy in each other's arms. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 462

Tony's hand was enveloped in yours, his warm fingers intertwined tightly.

His other hand, on your waist, outlined the contours of your body. His weight, pressed against you, pinning you down, grounding you to reality as his warm breath caressed the skin of your neck. Naked skin brushed against naked skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Slowly, you traced your fingers along the defined angles of his jawline, feeling the rough texture of the salt-and-pepper stubble, a harsh contrast against your soft fingertips. A soft shudder left his lips from the contact. And through all this, you caught a whiff of Tony's cologne - a heady mixture of musk and bergamot - adding to the intoxicating experience.

The distance between you and Tony was dissolved by a kiss, your lips crashed together in a frenzy. The sharp tang of sweat mixed with the faint bite of whiskey martini overwhelmed your senses as his lips pressed against yours with fervent desperation. Your heart raced in a frenzy as you both melted into the intense kiss, lost in each other's touch. After what felt like an eternity, he abruptly pulled away, leaving you breathless and craving more.

“Tony—” Your voice trembled as you muttered his name, each syllable rolling off your tongue like sweet honey. Dripping slowly and smoothly, coating your senses and leaving a lingering warmth in their wake.

“I’m here, honey, I’ll take care of you.” His voice comforted you, like an anchor holding you steady. His hand gently stroked your hair, his words gentle and soothing. 

You felt him thrusting inside you, with a mixture of pain and pleasure, but mostly the latter. Your teeth dug into your lip in an attempt to stifle the moans that escaped. Each slow, deliberate stroke set fire to every nerve ending in your body, making you crave more.

Tony filled you completely, which drove you wild with desire. The sound of your rapid breaths and the soft grunts escaping from Tony's lips filled the air. With each thrust, his skin rubbed against yours, creating a friction that ignited your senses. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed as pushes himself deeper inside you, feeling his self-restraint slip away as you clenched around him.

"Fuck," Tony murmured. “I love you.” The expletive slipped off his tongue, those three words come so naturally, his voice barely above a whisper.

The three simple words hung in the air, before melting like ecstasy in your veins.

You couldn't help but whimper in pleasure as he hit all the right spots. His hands roamed your body, knowing exactly how to make you lose control. And when Tony pulled you closer with each urgent thrust, wrapping his arms around you, you knew there was no going back. 

This was pure bliss, and you never wanted it to end.

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⛧ VIK'S MARVEL MASTERLIST

Smut ψ | Fluff ♡ | Angst 🥀

⎊ Money, Money, Money. \ ♡ ψ ➵ Starting off as simple, transactional love during the height of Tony’s alcoholism, devolves into something real. ➵ Ship : Tony Stark x Reader

⎊ Playboy \ ψ ➵ Tony Stark invites you into his Rolls Royce. ➵ Ship : Tony Stark x Reader ⎊ Body Electric \ ♡ 🥀 ➵ You and Tony work through your insecurities, together. ➵ Ship : Tony Stark x Reader

⎊ Bliss and Honey \ ♡ ψ ➵ You and Tony share a moment of intimacy in each other's arms. ➵ Ship : Tony Stark x Reader ⎊ Copacabana \ 🥀 ➵ A letter to Tony Stark, 16 years after his death. ➵ Ship : Tony Stark x Widowed! Reader ⎊ His Sweet Girl\ ψ ➵ Nestled between Tony's legs, and all you wanted was to just feel him. ➵ Ship : Tony Stark x Reader