#dark!tony stark x you

[glorystark]

His Saviour | Part 1

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You disobey one of Steve's orders in a mission but you don't think about the consequences...

Warnings: (TRIGGER WARNING!) mentions of self harm and suicide, mentions of killing and torturing, pure Angst no happy ending, mentions of injures, dark!Steve Rogers, swearing, minor spoilers of Black Widow, Steve being an asshole in general

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Featuring: The original 6

Disclaimer: please don't read this if you're not comfortable with any of the topics below or/and if they trigger you. This is just a fiction and it's never ok to act like this. I'm not romanticizing any of these topics and this behaviour!

You are sitting in the Quinjet, observing everyone who is injured in different ways. Natasha has been stabbed in her right thigh, Clint’s left ankle has been twisted, and Bruce, although not injured, appears exhausted due to a significant code green call, during which Nat almost lost him trying to retrieve him. Thor has a few scratches on his face. Everyone’s faces show bruising in different areas, and their bodies are still aching. But you, you have been injured the most. Your right wrist is broken, and you have been shot in your left leg, though the bullet wasn’t deep and didn't cause major damage; otherwise, you probably would have passed out by now. You still have trouble breathing, and your voice is sore because one of the HYDRA agents almost choked you to death. Your face is bruised, you can only open your right eye halfway, and your lips are swollen. The numbness has made it so you can barely feel any pain. When everyone saw you upon returning to the jet, they were extremely worried. You didn’t possess inhuman powers and weren't a super soldier, but you used to be a well-trained assassin and spy in the Red Room, closely partnered with Natasha Romanoff before joining S.H.I.E.L.D. So, it was surprising for the team to see you so battered, though they understood the mission was challenging.

Everyone needed a break upon returning to the tower. Initially, everyone thought it was a straightforward mission: infiltrate a high-security HYDRA base, get two flash drives containing vital and dangerous information, and exit. What no one knew was that it was a trap, with far more agents present than expected. Eventually, you managed to escape, but only securing one of the flash drives.

As everyone settled back in the jet, Bruce finished removing the bullet from your leg and bandaging Nat’s thigh. Thor bragged to Tony about his usual lack of injuries on missions, joking that he could have taken down all the HYDRA agents that day if he hadn’t been 'unlucky', which elicited laughter from Tony. Clint checked on Nat while she recounted a memory from Budapest. Meanwhile, you contemplated going home for a long shower until you noticed Steve, whose eyes were fixed on you with intensity. Confused, you assumed he was lost in thought, but you were wrong.

“How could you be so reckless?!" Steve's voice boomed through the jet as he stood up from his seat, his gaze piercing into yours. Everyone stopped what they were doing, surprised by his uncharacteristically loud tone, given his usually calm demeanor, even when upset. You looked at him, uncertain of what to say. You understood why he was angry; you had disobeyed an order. However, if not for your 'disobedience,' you wouldn't have acquired half the information you have now. To you, this seemed like Steve Rogers throwing a typical Captain America tantrum.

“Well, are you going to answer, or are you too stupid to respond to a simple question?" he growled, advancing toward your seat.

“I wasn't being-" you began to mutter, only to be interrupted by Steve.

“Speak up," he demanded, his voice cutting you off. You met his gaze, puzzled by his demeanor.

“I wasn't being reckless; I was being thoughtful. The-" you tried to explain, but Steve interrupted again.

"Thoughtful?! You call that thoughtful?! Really, Y/n? It's clear you don't understand the difference between stupidity and thoughtfulness.” he retorted.

“Will you stop interrupting me?" you interjected, your voice growing louder as you rose from your seat. You locked eyes with Steve, standing almost chest to chest in front of each other.

“I wouldn't have interrupted you if I knew any useful words were going to come out of your mouth," he countered, finally yelling, causing everyone but you to flinch.

“You have no right to yell at me like this, Steve.” you asserted, standing up for yourself.

"I have EVERY right to yell at you, you-" he began, but you cut him off this time.

"Why are you making it seem like I committed a crime? Yes, I agree it was wrong for me to enter that room alone, but I retrieved the flash drive we needed, didn't I?" you challenged.

“That is not the point right now. The point is, I'm your captain, and I gave a strict, direct order not to enter that room, and you disobeyed me.” he stated firmly.

That was all true. When you disobeyed his order, you knew he would be angry, but not to this extent.

You sprinted down the hallway, incapacitating every HYDRA agent in your path. You tried not to use your gun too often, knowing there would likely be guards in the room.

"Steve, I found the room," you said through your earpiece. You subdued the agent guarding the room where the flash drives were, and as the door swung open, more than twenty HYDRA agents stood before you, blocking your view of the drives on the computer table.

“Y/n, what did you just say? Get out of there now! Do you even know how many agents are in there?" Steve's urgent voice echoed in your ear.

“I do now," you replied, still facing the agents, who were also eyeing you cautiously.

"Y/n, this is an order. Get. Out. Of. There. Now.” Steve commanded, his tone almost a shout.

“Sorry, Steve, but people's lives depend on this.” you declared, charging toward the agents, disregarding Steve's pleas for you to retreat.

“Steve, I really don't understand what the big deal is. I got one of the drives, and yes, I went alone, but at least I obtained something that will help us.” you reasoned, taking a seat.

“Alright, y/n, I'm definitely sure now that you are deaf. You entered a room with so many HYDRA agents-" he began, only to be cut off by you.

“They were like 10 and they were really weak-" you defended.

“They were 27 trained assassins!” he corrected, making you widen your eyes.

"And do I need to remind you that your leg has been shot, and you can barely keep your eyes open, not to mention the rest of your injuries." he added mockingly.

“Okay, Steve, I get it, and I'm sorry for being reckless. Can we let this go now?" you pleaded, sitting down.

“Let this go?!" he started laughing, though his laugh lacked any humor. Everyone looked at Steve, unable to believe his behavior. They never expected him to speak to you this way, especially in front of the whole team.

You and Steve had been friends since meeting during the Battle of New York. You had a lot in common and quickly connected. A few months later, at one of Tony's parties, he kissed you, and the following day, he asked you out. It had been six months since then, and Steve treated you like a princess. He called you his savior because you helped him adjust to life after being thawed from the ice. He adored you. You had a few minor disagreements, but they were hardly fights, more like disagreements. You could never stay mad at each other, and now you couldn't believe the man who was laughing at you and humiliating you was the same person.

"Steve, I think that's enough," Nat finally intervened, her voice calm yet firm.

"Is it really? I think baby y/n hasn't learned her lesson yet.” Steve retorted sarcastically.

“Fuck you, Steve. You can't speak to me like that. I'm not a kid. If it wasn't for me, we wouldn't even have that one drive, and god knows how many people could have died. But you can't even realize that because I disobeyed ‘Captain America's orders,' and no one is allowed to disobey America's 'hero.' The only kid between us is you!” you shot back, your voice rising, though not as loud as Steve's had been.

“I'm a kid, y/n? Really? And what are you, a hero? Do you expect me to thank you now? Do you expect all of us to be on our knees thanking you?!" Steve challenged.

“That is not what I said!" you finally snapped.

The tension in the room escalated, and the team grew more uncomfortable by the second.

Steve smirked at your angered state.

“What's the matter, y/n? You seem a little bit defensive. I thought you liked being a hero. You know, because of the guilt, since you started killing and torturing people at the age of 8.”he said, still wearing the hurtful smirk on his face.

The whole team gasped, especially Natasha, whose story paralleled yours. You looked at Steve, unable to believe what he had just said.

“You seem shocked, Agent y/l/n. Oh, and Natasha, don't take this the wrong way. We all make mistakes in our life, but at least after we realize our mistakes, we try to make them up as soon as we can and not run away like a coward.” Steve continued, ignoring your reaction. You and Natasha widened your eyes, understanding what Steve was referring to."Steve..." Nat began, but Steve cut her off.

“I'm not done yet. Some of y'all look confused, well, let me explain it for you," Steve said, addressing the rest of the team.

"Steve, don't." you murmured, your voice weak now. You weren't even sure if anyone heard you, and you were right. No one heard you, but Steve who chose to ignore you.

“Our dear y/n y/l/n was a well-trained assassin back in the years with Natasha Romanoff in a place called the Red Room, which I'm sure you've heard about. Before even Natasha was out of there, Agent y/l/n found a way to leave the Red Room, a way to save every girl, from children to adults, who were mind-controlled into killing, and even worse. But do you know what she did instead?" he turned around the room, looking at everyone as if it was a show. No one said anything; they just kept looking between you and Steve. It was getting harder for you to focus on your breathing.

“Well, in case you haven't guessed yet, she just left everyone who could've been saved, even her best friend who is sitting right here with us.” he said, pointing at Nat.

“And even though she could've killed Dreykov, who was the leader by the way, with her genius plan, she didn't because she was a coward.” he said, emphasizing the word coward.

You've never felt so small and betrayed. You couldn’t believe he was using your awful past against you. When you confided in him, he comforted you, assuring you it wasn't your fault. That you’ve been through a lot and you took the only chance you had to save yourself. And now… now he was a different person.

“Cap that’s enough, it’s not our business what she did in the past. We all did something in some point that we aren’t proud of. She made up for that mistake many times now, since the battle of New York until today’s mission. I’m sure she still feels guilty and you’re just making it worse.” Tony looked at your trembling sight, standing up from his seat and walked towards Steve. The rest of the team nodding along, glad that Tony stood up for you because they were frozen themselves.

“Oh yeah Tony, you’re right I’m sure she feels guilty, don’t you y/l/n?” He looked at you as if you were a kid

Everything about him was hurting you right now. His voice tone that humiliated you in every way, his eyes that sent daggers to your way, his body that was intimidatingly towering yours, his smile which always made you happy and now it was only mocking you. Your throat is dry, your eyes are wet and you feel like your heart is going to come out of your chest in any second. You were hurt and unwell, and everyone could see that, everyone but Steve.

“Agent y/I/n do you feel guilty about your past?" He repeated his sarcastic question.

"I wouldn't worry about that too much since you have a good way to cope with your guilt right?" He continued.

You looked up at him frighteningly, understanding where he was going.

“Steve don't you dare." you whispered, finally being able to say something.

Everyone was confused since they had no idea what you both were talking about.

“you seem scared agent." Steve smirked at you sending shivers down your spine. It hurts so much more that he wasn't even using your name anymore, he felt like a stranger to you.

“SHUT UP!" you had never yelled so loud in your life, the whole jet shook. Everyone flinched but Steve. It seemed like he was waiting for this.

“Come on y/n are you that afraid of everyone knowing how you used to deal with your problems, or do you still do it?"

Everyone was quite once again, something in them wanted to know what Steve was talking about but they also didn't because of the way you reacted.

You looked at him not saying anything but your eyes were begging him to stop. You've never been in such a vulnerable position, especially considering everything you’ve been through.

“oh don't tell me you're gonna cut your wrists open again because you feel guilty you didn't get the second driver."

Everyone froze and widened their eyes, silence filling the jet. No one knew that you used to harm yourself until you started dating Steve, he was the first person to ever know. You felt so comfortable around him that you didn't want to have any untold secrets.

You thought about what if you guys break up but you convinced yourself that even if you guys separate your ways from each other at some point, you're definitely going to stay friends and he's never going to tell your secret to anyone because you believed he was a good man. You trusted him more than yourself and now he proved you all wrong.

You didn't cut anymore, because you found a way to save people. If it wasn't for Nick Fury, making you join the team you'd be long gone by now. But you didn't have a reason anymore, you were happy you had a new family and a new job, everything was perfect for you. Now you felt alone all over again and you didn't even blame Steve, you blamed yourself. You failed.

You started trembling more and started to see black spots. The team walked towards you to see if you were okay. Thor pushed Steve away, "Stay away from her," he warned, before walking to you. You heard Tony and Natasha yelling at Steve, Clint trying to calm them down but looking angry himself, Bruce and Thor asking you if you were alright, but you couldn’t hear anything anymore. It was so loud, but you only heard annoying mumbles. You let out a sob before passing out in the strong arms of the god, the last thing you saw being Steve's worried eyes…

A/N: This was my first (published) fan fiction. I apologise for any writing and/or grammar mistakes considering that English isn’t my first language. Feel free to correct me! If you enjoyed this, please let me know and let me know if you want to be tagged in the upcoming posts! (This fic will make a twist;))

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #the avengers #avengers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #tony stark #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #thor #clint barton #black widow #steve rogers angst #captain america #mcu #marvel #marvel mcu #red room #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #steve rogers and reader #angst #steve Rogers x Reader Angst #x reader #reader insert #marvel steve rogers #mcu steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction

[seikkoi]

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

[springdandelixn]

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

[late-to-the-party-81]

What's your price?

Request: For your inspire me challenge, can I request a dark! Tony Stark x f! Reader with smut ? Reader would be a intern for SI? And he tries to flirt with her but she rejects him everytime cause she has no interest so he kidnaps her or blackmails her into being a relationship with him? 

AN: Thank you @ironlady1993 (it won't let me tag you!) for your request. This ended up being more soft!dark! than actual dark! but I hope that you still enjoy it. I haven’t written for Tony very often, but I hope this works. 

Beta’d by @buckyismybicycle

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics 

Masterlist

Relationship: Soft! Dark! Tony Stark x Naive! Intern Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

CW:Toxic Narcissist Tony, Sexual Harassment, Manipulation, Dub-con, implied smut, shifting POV

Tony was well aware that he was spoiled - he was uber-rich for God’s sake, it would be a miracle if he wasn’t. He was also aware that everything and everyone was for sale; it was just a matter of finding the right currency, and he could always afford it, no matter what it was. Just look at Pepper. 

He’d wanted her and he’d got her, all it had cost him was making her CEO of the company. She’d thought it important, but Tony hadn’t, and still didn’t. The company could fold tomorrow or never trade again, and he would continue to sit in the lap of luxury until his final breath. And even though he’d gotten bored of her, it paid to keep her sweet and let her remain in the role that she thought gave her power.

Most times it was easy to gain what he craved - for most people a direct monetary transaction was enough. However, sometimes it took a bit longer to find the right… motivator. He never minded though. These instances normally had a better payoff. Truth be told, it was a rare occurrence he had to actually put work in and he enjoyed the novelty. And what a novelty you were.

In some ways you reminded him of Pepper. You were clever, beautiful, and competent. However, with you, Tony sensed a softness, a caring and loving soul. He wondered if that’s what had been missing from his life so far? But, you also appeared to have a strong moral code. Tony could respect that, but he would admit it was getting just a little frustrating. 

He’d never had to work this hard to encourage an intern to sleep with him. In fact, he’d never really had to do anything other than ask - most people would give a limb or promise their first born child, for such an invitation. Also, not to blow his own trumpet, he was a good lover. A considerate lover. All parties came away satisfied. Yet, you seemed to not want it.

He was sure you were just playing hard to get - holding out for something more. He just had to discover what it was that you wanted from him, because everybody always wanted something from him. Everybody always had a price.

You groaned as you got out of bed and got ready for your day. Why was your life such a gigantic mess, when initially it had looked so promising? When you told people that you interned at Stark Industries, they couldn’t believe your luck. You let out a derisive snort.

Luck? Huh!

If you were so lucky, why were you living in a shitty apartment? If you were so lucky, why were you broke? And if you were so lucky, why were you having to go out of your way everyday to avoid your boss?

You knew the reason for the first two; the reason that all of your money disappeared as soon as it hit your account, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. It was a choice you’d made and you’d make the same choice over and over again. The third thing, though? As far as you were aware, you hadn’t done anything specific to attract his attention.

Like anyone, when you’d first met Tony Stark you were in awe. He was a genius, a billionaire and very handsome. He was charismatic, not afraid to muck in with anyone he worked with, and knew everyone’s names. However, it didn’t take you long to realise he was a raging ego-maniac, not afraid to throw a temper tantrum when he didn’t get his way. His mood could spin on a dime and you’d seen your fair share of red flags in your life to know that no matter how tempting he was - and, boy, was he - accepting your boss’s overt offer would not be a good idea.

When you’d initially turned him down, you’d been worried that you’d lose your position, but that hammer hadn’t fallen, and you’d breathed a huge sigh of relief. You had enough to worry about without adding unemployment into the mix.

With another sigh, you grabbed your keys, SI pass, purse and jacket, and headed out of your dingy accommodation towards the subway.

“Come on, Sugar-pie. What could one little drink hurt?”

You kept your eyes on the papers in front of you, trying not to roll them, as your erstwhile suitor leant over your desk, his index finger resting on the wood right next to your hand, oh-so-close to stroking your skin.

“Mr. Stark-”

“-Tony.”

You couldn’t hold back your sigh of irritation.

“Tony. I’m working. I’m busy. I have all these reports to go over.”

His hand moved away from yours, but in the next second your head was being tilted up, away from where you were studiously focusing, by pressure exerted under your chin.

Tony’s handsome face came into focus, with his sparkling whisky dark eyes, and dark brown, almost black facial hair, trimmed with precision, surrounding pink lips that twitched with amusement.

“You do know I’m the boss and I could order you not to do the reports.”

“I think you’ll find that Ms. Potts is the boss, and she’s the one who asked me to do them.”

Tony obviously didn’t have the same qualms as you about rolling his eyes in a professional setting.

“Pphht! Don’t worry about Pep. She’s only the boss cos I let her be.”

You pushed your chair back, removing your face from his touch.

“Look, Mr. Stark,” You raised your hand when he was about to protest his title, again. “I’m flattered. I really am. But I’m not interested, and I’d really just like to get on with my work. I’m sure you have more suits to tinker with and other interns to flirt with.”

He raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow and observed you for a moment.

“Fine. Have it your way for now, Sugar-pie.” His tone was light, amusement etched across his features, but there was an undercurrent of… something as he spoke. “I know you like me and you’re just playing hard to get. I’ll see you later.”  He turned on his heels, shoved his hands in pants pockets and walked away from your desk, jauntily whistling.

At half past five you pushed back your chair and stood, letting out a groan as you did. Your eyes were tired from going over the reports all day, and now you just had to turn them in with your overview and comments, so you could finally make your way home.

With the stash of manilla folders in hand you walked down the corridor to Pepper’s office. She’d be gone by now - she’d let you know earlier in the day that she had an external meeting and that you should just leave the reports on her desk for the next morning.

Pushing open the door, you headed towards her pristinely organised desk, placed the folders with their cover note front and centre, turned around and… screamed.

You literally jumped in the air, your hands coming up to your chest.

Tony smiled at you from where he was leaning against the bookcase next to the door.

“Hey, Sugar-pie. I know I’m a catch, but no need to jump out of your skin for me.”

He stood up and walked towards you. No, stalked towards you like a sleek leopard in the jungle, tracking its prey. You didn’t even realise you were backing up until your lower back connected with the edge of the desk.

“Umm… Mr. Stark…”

He leant one hand on the desk, next to your hip and raised the other to press a finger to your mouth.

“How many times do I have to tell you, call me Tony. And are we going to go get that drink?”

Frustration welled within you.

“And how many times do I have to tell you, Mr Stark, that I’m not interested.”  You pushed away from him and made your way towards the door, but were halted in your tracks by what he said next.

“Not even to help your grandmother?”

You didn’t turn, but your hands tensed into fists.

“What did you say?” The words left your lips as an angry hiss.

“Your grandmother. She’s in that crappy hospital in Queens, right?”  You felt him come up behind you, his breath hitting your ear from how close he was. “She’s not doing too well, is she? I’m sure I could make her a lot more comfortable. Move her to a better hospital here in Manhattan. The best doctors, the best nurses.”

Tony’s hands settled on your waist, thumbs stroking where your blouse met the waistband of your pencil skirt, yet you didn’t pull away and anger flared within you, directed at yourself for not moving. His body shifted even closer so his front pressed against your back, and you could feel his arousal. 

Bile burned your throat. This was all wrong, yet… you were considering it. Considering prostituting yourself because, dammit, Tony could make a big difference to your grandmother’s remaining days. And would it really be that bad? You’d heard the rumours of his bedroom prowess, and you did find him attractive.

“W-what would happen? When you get bored?”

“You think I’d get bored of you, Sugar-pie? Don’t put yourself down.” His hands slid around your waist and you lowered your eyes, unable to resist watching as he placed his left one on your stomach and his right underneath, his be-ringed pinky finger resting on your mound. “But to illustrate a point, Pepper’s still CEO isn’t she? That was her price. Yours is care and safety for your grandmother.”

You almost baulked at it being put so bluntly, but Tony’s arms held you firm. “Don’t be embarrassed. Everyone has their price and I’m more than willing to pay yours. Your grandmother could live another hundred years and it wouldn’t make a dent in my bank account.”

“You could just do it out of the goodness of your heart then, if the money means so little.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

His head came even closer and he pressed a soft kiss to your neck, over your pulse point, threatening to rip away the last shred of your morals and self-control.

“This is manipulation, Mr. Stark.”

“Think of it more as a business transaction if it makes you feel better.” He placed a second kiss on your now heated skin and you bit your lip. “I’ll be good to you, Sugar-pie. You’ll be on my arm, dressed as befits beauty such as yours. Other men will want you, but you’ll forget all about them when you’re in my bed.”

He started to sway, moving your body with his. His right hand lowered, fully resting over your sex, gently cupping it. Again, you didn’t pull away, didn’t make any move to dissuade him. You should be though. Your moral compass was screaming at you, but your body was ignoring it in favour of the dizzying sensations that even these few small touches were eliciting and your mind was hurriedly weighing up your options.

“So… just to recap… I date you, publicly. Be your arm candy, warm your bed, and you move my grandmother to the best facility in Manhattan, and will continue to pay for her comfort and care, even if she outlives your interest in me. What if she passes away before then?”

You hadn’t even agreed to his proposition, but his right hand was slowly pulling up your skirt, the fabric concertina-ing around your abdomen, and his left was deftly undoing button after button on your blouse. You realised that your own hands were no longer balled into fists or lying limply at your sides - they were clutching at the outside of his thighs, anchoring yourself to him.

“Then you would be free to end our association, unless we came to some other arrangement. However, I’d like to think that you wouldn’t want to, though. That you would be so enraptured by my attention, my care, that you’d never want to leave.”

As he started to drag the woven cotton from your left shoulder, you instinctively tilted your neck, giving him greater access to your skin. An involuntary sigh escaped your lips as his mouth travelled over your shoulder, his facial hair tickling your skin.

You screwed your eyes shut, knowing that this was the point of no return. He’d already won. He knew it. You knew it.

“I- I agree, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony, Sugar-pie. You really have to use my name now. At least in public. If you prefer another title for private, I’m quite happy with Sir, or even Daddy.”

Oh fuck! Just the thought of using one of those, of submitting to him in such a way was sending you into free fall. You hated how easily you’d succumbed. However, you were jerked out of it, when Tony suddenly took a step back from you.

You whirled around in shock, clothing completely dishevelled. Tony had his phone to his ear, acting for all the world as though he didn’t have an erection straining the fabric of his designer suit jacket.

“Happy? Yes, get it all sorted, please. An agreement has been made.”

The conversation was short and pointed, ending after a few seconds, and Tony tossed his phone onto Pepper’s desk before reaching up to loosen his tie and pop the top button of his shirt. Then, in one stride he was back in front of you, his left arm around your waist, pulling you to him, and his right brushing over your hair. You looked up at him, saw the twitch of his lips and felt yourself pulled into the depths of his eyes.

“Now, where were we, Sugar-pie?”

His lips descended and just before his kisses made you entirely senseless, you wondered if you’d regret this decision. You hadn’t ever thought things would turn out like this, but it turned out you had a price after all.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel

#tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x reader #late writes #tony stark x you #soft!dark!Tony Stark #soft dark tony stark #tw: manipulation #fic request

[whereireid]

˚ · . 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒

𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #masterlist #dark fics #dark!bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x you #peter parker x reader #tony stark x reader #WHEREIREID

[tonysslut]

Hey!!

Could I officially request this?

Like, just older, dark-ish Tony carelessly overstimulating you over and over again (and being pretty rough too)

Hi! I hope this turned out how you wanted. I'm still figuring out how to write dark!tony lol. and the ending it kinda shitty but that's expected

Summary: Tony tried being gentle, but he just can't hold back anymore

Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, overstimulation, unprotected sex, choking, cream pie, slight size kink.

W/C: 1.1k

Tony Stark Masterlist

Seeing your small, naked frame sprawled out on his bed was a sight for sore eyes. You looked so fragile, almost like one wrong move would break you. That drove him completely wild. He used every ounce of his willpower to be gentle with you last night, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to restrain himself today.

You feel his fingers dancing along your side, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. He slowly woke you up, pressing opened mouth kisses on your shoulder, his thumb brushing over your hardened nipple.

“Tony.” You breathe out, feeling your clit starting to throb with need. 

He rolls over and spreads your legs to settle in between them. His heavy cock rested on your stomach, tip an angry shade of red with beads of precum leaking onto your skin. Leaning down, he leads you into a passionate kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you moan.

He pushes your legs to your chest with his thighs, leaving you bare to him. Caging you in with his big arms, essentially trapping you. Your cunt glistens with your arousal. He groans, seeing how wet you are. 

“You want daddy's cock?” He says, voice laced with lust. You instantly shake your head, biting your bottom lips when he rubs his bulbous head in between your puffy folds. He tsks, shaking his head in disappointment. 

“What did I tell you last night? Use your big girl words, or have you already gone dumb?” His words go straight to your core, making you clench around nothing. 

“M’sorry daddy. I want you inside me, please.” You whine, shaking your hips to see if he finally sinks inside you. 

He gives you a quick ‘good girl’ before lining up with your entrance and slowly pushing into you. Tony circles his hips when he bottoms out, your nails digging into his biceps at the intensity. Pulling out, he leaves just the tip in before pushing back in, making you gasp and clench around him. He closes his eyes and tries desperately to recompose himself, but he loses it when he opens his eyes. 

Your eyes are glazed over, senses completely taken over by Tony. His aroma wraps around you, mind going blank. You notice his eyes darkening, a feral look that sends a chill up your spine. The speed of his movements increases, blurring the lines of pleasure and pain.

“T-tony. Slow down.” You rush out, feeling like he’s about to split you in half. 

He grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together as he speaks. “You take what I give you. Understood?” You try your best to respond, but between his grip on you and his thrusts, it comes out more like an incoherent mumble.

You feel him squeeze your cheeks, ‌parting your lips and spitting into your mouth. You moan at the obscene action, your walls fluttering as you swallow. 

“Dirty girl, I can feel your greedy cunt clenching around my cock. Gonna cum?” He says in a mocking tone. 

“Yes! Yes, please. I’m so close.” Tears fill your eyes at the intensity, jaw going slack when Tony presses two fingers on your swollen clit. The extra stimulation makes your orgasm rip through you, toes curling as your legs shake. Your cunt tightens around Tony’s cock, almost making it impossible for him to thrust into you. 

He throws his head back with a low roar at the feeling. The bit of restraint he had is now lost when he sees tears running down your cheeks. He places his hands on your waist and leans back until you're straddling him, your hands dropping to his chest to stabilize yourself. 

“Grind that pretty pussy on me, baby.” You do as he says, moving your hips back and forth, feeling the sparse hairs on his pelvis rub against your sensitive clit. “Just like that, good fucking girl.” 

Your legs shake as you move, still riding out your previous orgasm. Tony’s hand creeps up your front, pinching your hardened nipple before wrapping it around your throat. He watches as your eyes roll back, squeezing just enough to give you a head buzz. 

You wrap your hands around his wrist, lips parting at the feeling. Tony takes the opportunity to push two fingers past your parted lips. Your eyes widen, but you enclose your lips around his thick digits, moaning as you suck on them. 

“Look at you, sucking daddy’s finger while you ride me. Such a dirty whore.”

He pushes his fingers further into your mouth, causing you to gag around them. His fingers glisten with your spit when he pulls them out, bringing them down to rub your clit. You jerk away at the sensation, still feeling sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“Don’t run away from me, princess.” He growls, placing his free hand on your hip to keep you grinding on his cock.  

“Too s-senstive.” You whine, quickly feeling your release build deep inside you. 

He completely ignores you, only focusing on the way your cunt tightens around him. You throw your head back with a scream as you gush around him, your release hitting you without a warning. Your body goes numb, you feel hot and cold all at once but you keep your hips moving because it just feels too good. Tony looks down at his chest that’s now covered with your juices. Collecting some on his fingers, he shoves them into your mouth. You moan as you taste yourself. 

Without a warning, he pushes you against the mattress and flips you over, putting your ass in the air while your face is pressed against the mattress. He’s quick to slam back into you, fucking you deeper and harder than before. You can feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. It’s unlike anything you’ve felt before. The bed creaks with the force of his movements. You gasp as you desperately try to fill your lungs with air. 

“It’s fuck t-too much.” You rush out, hoping he’ll slow down. 

“Does it hurt, princess?” He says in a patronizing tone. You quickly nod your head. “Well, too bad, you’re gonna take it until Daddy's finished.” 

You whine at his words, hot tears soaking the sheets as you press your face into the mattress. Your limbs give out on you as orgasm after orgasm wash over you, thighs covered in your slick, a thin layer of sweat makes your skin glow under the sunlight. 

Tony’s thrusts start to become sloppy, his groans and moans fill the room, letting you know he’s about to cum. You use whatever strength you have left to turn your head to look at him. 

“Please cum in me. Fill me up daddy.” That’s all it takes for Tony’s orgasm to take over. He pushes you into the mattress, a bruising grip on your hips as his hot seed coats your velvet walls. 

He collapse on top of you, his weight pressed against you feels so comforting, causing you to pass out before he has a chance to pull out. You wake up when he picks you up, walking towards the bathroom to clean you up. 

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ve got you.” 

Taglist: @ccbsrms @athenastark18 @aetherneto @hiddlechive @raajali3 @rookiemartin @strangeions @esposadomd 

Feedback

#tony stark #fanfic #relationship #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #smut #tony stark smut #tony stark drabble #tony stark fanfiction #iron man #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x female reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark one shot #tony stark fic #tony stark imagine #dark!tony

[dmysterioblog]

Masterlist

WARNING! Most of the following contain SMUT and/or have a DARK theme!

Disclaimer! These Fanfics aren't mine! They're just some of my favorites. Check at the bottom to see when it was last updated. I've made a second masterlist which I'll be updating once in a while.

Masterlist II

Dark-♤ Angst-♧ Fluff-♡ Smut-♢

Shoulder to Cry On

Paring; Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: you have a rough break up and Agatha invites you over to make you feel better.

Rated- ♧♡

Witch hunter

Paring; Agatha Harkness x witchhunter!reader

Summary: as a friend of Blade, whilst he hunts monsters, you focus on ending the witches of old that have come to ruin the future. Agatha Harkness happens to be one of them, but she isn’t running into your trap, it’s the other way around.

Rated-♤♢♧

Say You Want Me

Parings; Agatha harkness x reader

Summery: your neighbor agatha's seen you looking at her, and she gets the wrong idea-- or, well... sort of.

Rated-♢

Closer

Parings; Salem!Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: you and Agatha are forced to share a bed while out for the coven.

Rated- ♡

Working Together For Her

Paring; Agatha x reader x Wanda

Summary: Y/N escapes to Westview, on the run, and Wanda and Agatha pause their fight to work together and help her.

Rated- ♧♡

Make Me Feel Special

Pairing: Milf!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Summary: You are angry at your best friend for turning down the opportunity for something that you would give your life for: a mother.

Rated- ♤♢

Jealousy

Paring; Jealous!Agatha x reader

Summary: you have been getting too close with Wanda and Agatha doesn't like that.

Rated- ♤♢

Taste Of A Poison Paradise

Pairing; Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s your wedding day, and you’re freaking out with the stress and anxiety of it all. Fortunately, your future mother-in-law is there to help.

Rated- ♤♢

Love Thy Neighbour

Paring; Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Wanda’s spell did quite a number on Agatha. She forgot who she was. Her powers gone. But ever since she met you, she's been her memories and powers come back.

Rated- ♤♢

Oh Red String of Fate

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Summary: you're Agatha's soul mate.

Rated- ♡

Broken Doll

Paring; Bucky x reader x Steve

Summary: Steve and Bucky have to now live with the consequences after they have broken you.

Rated- ♧

July

Paring; Cate Blanchett x reader

summary; you’ve been in australia on vacation and made a new friend, maybe more than just a friend. When your time comes to an end you reminisce the last weeks and doubt your feelings.

Rated- ♡♧

Right here right now

Paring; Carol Aird x reader

Summary: What if Carol went away by herself over Christmas and met you instead? One morning your eyes lock across the room at a motel and you spend the day together, getting to a women's bar where things heat up and you end up getting a hotel room together.

Rated- ♡♢

The Animal I Become

Pairing: Damian Priest x Fem Reader

Summary: Being the eldest daughter of Rey Mysterio, it surprises most that she’s nothing like her family. After her father and family ban her from wrestling due to her violence, she is officially the black sheep, but breaks that rule, coming back to help during an attack from the Judgement Day, only to be scolded by her father for the madness she started, then running into someone who knows her like no one else…

Rated-♧♢

Animal Unleashed

Pairing: Damian Priest x Fem Reader

Summary: After having a meeting with Judgement Day, making official plans to join and also ending the issues the reader created with Rhea Ripley after attacking her, they find the perfect way to show that the Reader is now apart of Judgement Day, joining in on the attack on her family, letting the world know she’s walking her own path away from her Mysterio family, unleashing the animal she knows she is…

Rated-♢♢♢

Tag Team

Pairing: Damian Priest x Fem Reader x Rhea Ripley

Summary: Rhea and Damian take turns having their way with Y/n. 

Rated-♢♢♢

I Can Keep A Secret, Can You?

Paring; Eve Fletcher x Camgirl!Reader

Summary: The camgirl that helps Eve edge into oblivion every night changes her life in more ways than one.

Rated-♢

Miss Deavor

Paring; Evelyn Deavor x reader

Summary: Not everyone needs a screen to be under Evelyn Deavor's wiles. As her brother's assistant, you can attest to that.

Rated- ♢

To Attend the Cruise

Paring; Evelyn Deavor x reader

Summary: You're desperate for a reporting gig at the Everjust cruise. Perhaps Evelyn Deavor can arrange something?

Rated- ♢

Energy Source

Paring; Hela x reader

Summary: Hela has you locked up in a dark dungeon cell to use you as an energy source. But she's nice to you.

Rated- ♤♡

Pleasing your Queen

Paring; Hela x reader

Summary: You're a palace maid who's been summoned by your newly crowned Queen. You have no idea what to expect, but the events that play out will surprise you more than you could have imagined.

Rated- ♢

El Amor Duele

Paring; Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Marc and Steven suspect there is another alter looming about as you begin to notice small mannerisms/movements that don't belong to either of them. You try and lure the new guy out.

Rated-♢♧

Through the Looking Glass

Pairings; Jake Lockley x fem!reader, Steve Grant x fem!reader, Marc Spector x fem!reader

Summary: “I knew who I was this morning, but I’ve changed a few times since then.” —Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Rated-♤♢♧

Love Is A Hard Thing

Paring; Lady Tremaine x reader

Summary: You are one of the staff workers of the household belonging to Lady Tremaine. Let’s just say you caught her eye.

Rated- ♧♡

So Pure, So Dirty and Raw

Pairings; Lilith Ritter x fem!reader

Summary: Lilith is your boss, and she's been waiting to make you hers.

Rated-♤

Nightmarish

Parings; Lilith Ritter x fem!reader

Summary: You have an appointment with your psychiatrist. 

Rated-♢

You're My Property

Parings; Lilith Ritter x fem!reader

summary: You just want her attention. She is your boss, you're her secretary.

Rated- ♢

Special Friend

Parings; CG!Loki x little!reader

Summary: loki wants to scare everyone he comes across today, however you rather enjoy him in his reptile form.

Rated-♡

Don't listen to them

Paring; Loki x little!reader

Summary: Loki is in the glass cell and reader is with Thor in a room with the avengers talking bad about Loki. Reader is upset and goes looking for Loki.

Rated- ♡

Good Girl, Bad Grades

Paring; Professor!Loki x reader

Summary: Your grades in Professor Laufeyson's class have been slipping recently. You are distracted - because of him. Professor Laufeyson invites you to his office to discuss your grades and it seems that despite his disappointment in you, he may have a way to help you improve them.

Rated- ♢♡

Workout

Paring; Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

Summary: You needy for Rhea, so she gives you what you want in the gym bathroom.

Rated-♢

A Hard Fuck

Paring; Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

Summary: You call Rhea a bitch during an argument and she doesn't take it lightly.

Rated-♢

Jealousy Jealousy

Paring; Rhea Ripley x fem!reader

Summary: You get jealous of Rhea and Liv but Rhea shows you she belongs to you.

Rated-♢♢♢

Tease Me, Please Me

Paring; Rhea Ripley x fem!reader

Summary: "I want you to ride my thigh until you're a whimpering fucking mess, and if you come, then I'll punish you for it."

Rated-♢♢♢

The Aftermath: Our Pretty Princess

Parings; DarkQueen!Wanda x Fem!Reader x SoftDarkKing!Valkyrie, Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader (Brief/Established)

Summary: Wanda and Valkyrie think you'll be the perfect fit as their princess, so their take you as theirs.

Rated-♤♢

She’s in Your Mind

Pairing; Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Instead of whispering “run” Wanda reads your mind and sees that you are attracted to her. She uses a different method instead of fear, to make you submit to her, and it definitely does not involve running.

Rated- ♤♢

20th Birthday

Paring; LegalGuardian!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: After your father's 'sudden' death you are being placed under the custody of his neighbor and close family friend, Wanda. She has been waiting for this moment since she laid eyes on you many years ago swearing in that you will be completely hers. Mind and body. And you being her innocent dumb little baby, that will be just a matter of time.

Rated-♢♡

Stephen Doesn’t Have to Know

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda had captured you in her palace when she took you from Stephen, she planned to make you hers to get back at him but she found herself taking a liking to you.

Rated- ♢♡

Training

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When misbehaving in public after your owner told you to obey, you are punished for your trouble.

Rated- ♤♢

After School Special

Paring; Professor!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: In the midst of your exhaustion you fail to see the flirtatious manner in which a classmate speaks to you, but alas Wanda has to prove who your real owner is.

Rated- ♡♢

First Times Aren't Shameful

Paring; Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Your first time with mommy Wanda is filled with lots of soft praises and big feelings.

Rated- ♢

Her World

Paring; Dark!Mommy!Wanda x little!reader

Summary: After Wanda lost Pietro and then Vision she can't risk to lose you as well. So, she took you with her to Westview and live her perfect life with you as her little angel, like she always wanted.

Rated- ♤♡

Only Mommy Can See You Like This

Paring; Mommy!Wanda x reader

Summary: Professor Wanda gets jealous of you while teaching class and decides to make you stay after to remind you who you belong to.

Rated- ♢♡

Last updated 02/18/23

#fic rec #tony stark x reader #lady tremaine x reader #evelyn deavor x reader #agatha harkness x reader #lilith ritter x reader #loki x reader #valkyrie x reader #kathryn hahn x reader #bucky x you #lou miller #jake lockley x fem!reader #hela x reader #hela odinsdottir x reader #dark!marvel #rhea ripley x reader #damian priest x reader

[darkdarkstucky]

masterlist

caution; may include dark and sexual themes that is not suitable for minors, please don't interact! reminder, you are responsible for your own media consumption.

otherwise, let us proceed with a mantra of sorts; if the man does not exist, so does my morals.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Avengers

coming soon

Steve Grant Rogers

•❥ SERIES

HIDDEN

Summary: Despite the fanfare and the cult-like following of Steve Rogers; America's golden child, the war time hero and do-no-evil american dream, it was still a startling discovery when it was revealed to the world that he was happily married. And he almost flipped New York upside down just to find you.

○ Pairing: Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

•❥ ONESHOTS

I got you, sweet girl.

Summary: A tough week has you struggling to rein in your emotions, so when someone flirts with your daddy, you don't take it particularly well.

•❥ HEADCANONS

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ When you miss your daddy/mommy while they're on a mission

James Buchanan Barnes

•❥ SERIES

•❥ ONESHOTS

Meeting The Soldat

Summary: The soldat makes a sudden appearance and he is on a mission. Or when you suddenly find yourself acquainted with the Winter Soldier.

Scenting

Summary: The stereotypes of the alpha and omega dynamics were blurred, when it comes to you and bucky.

•❥ HEADCANONS

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ When you miss your daddy/mommy while they're on a mission

Maximoff

•❥ HEADCANONS

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱When you miss your daddy/mommy while they're on a mission

Steve and Bucky

•❥ SERIES

Pretty

Summary; You were anything but expectant after spending a night between the ellusive lawyers, James Buchanan Barnes and Steve Grant Rogers; it was a supposed fling. Something to spice up their marriage. So you weren't exactly prepared with their advances nor the possessiveness that came with their attention.

○ Pairing; Soft!Dark Stucky x Reader, Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Reader, Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader.

ABO Universe

•❥ SERIES

Enchanted

Summary: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.

○ Pairing; Steve Roges x Reader x Clark Kent, Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader, Soft!Dark Clark Kent x Reader.

#avengers x fem!reader #avengers x female!reader #avengers x you #avengers x reader #avengers fluff #avengers imagine #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #soft!dark steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #soft!dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #soft!dark stucky #dark!stucky #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #thor odinson x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #tony stark x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #bruce banner x reader #dark!thor #dark!loki #dark!tony stark #dark!natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #dark!thor x reader #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy!steve x little!reader

[alostlovergirl]

Masterlist

Disclaimer: Some or all of these stories may be dark and my dark content contains disturbing material. Minors DNI and proceed at your own risk.

Hi everyone, you can call me stargirl and I am 19 years old. I am coming back after a while off of dark content. I am getting back into marvel stuff and everything may not be accurate. Don't be afraid to ask or request anything from me, just please don't rush me. I am a college student and I work, so I might not be able to work on requests all the times. I hope you all enjoy!

Please request!

Fluff: ❤️ Smut: 🖤 Dark: 😈

———————————————————————

Bucky Barnes

My Perfect 1950s housewife 😈🖤

Never gonna be safe😈

Bucky’s breeder🖤😈

Run bunny run😈🖤

The King’s Servant 😈🖤

Open wide 🖤😈

Tony stark

She is all mines😈🖤

Locked in🖤

A good ending? 😈❤️🖤

Come back to me part 1 😈 Pulling Back: part 2😈 Pregnancy Hours: part 3😈

Random 🖤

Peter Parker

Owed Favor (omegaverse)😈🖤

Danger!😈❤️

Steve Rogers

Gonna fix her - part 2 😈

Obsession 😈🖤

Pure🖤😈

Bruce Banner

Gentle punishments. 🖤❤️

Just worried 🖤😈

Stephen Strange

Drown in it😈🖤

Two for the price of one🖤😈

Thor Odinson

Embarrassment 😈🖤

#masterlist #dark marvel #dark marvel masterlist #marvel masterlist #marvel smut #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barns x you #bruce banner #Shuri #black panther #m’baku #non con #captain america #iron man #winter soldier #new post #tom holland #peter parker #spider man

[sebastianstansqueen]

Cheer Up Love 1

A/N: Here is the first part of this series, feedback is always appreciated, if you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,384

Warnings:  Angst, Smut, I think that is all actually

Chapter Name: All Of Us

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open // Spotify Playlist

Tags: @cherryblossomskye - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess -

Bucky, along with Steve, and Sam, sat on the plush couches in Y/n and Bucky’s house as Y/n, Peggy, and Natasha danced around all together with the music in the background played on the record player. Eventually, Natasha stumbled over and Y/n caught her in time but both women fell to the floor in a fit of giggles. Bucky got up off his spot on the couch and helped his wife up, kissing her as she stood up. “God I love you.” He mumbled against her lips. 

“I love you too.” She said back. 

“Oh we know that look boys it seems we all should be going.” Natasha said pointedly at her husband. Sam stood after she spoke, along with Steve the two other couples left after Y/n and Bucky waved them goodbye. 

Bucky led Y/n to their shared bedroom of theirs, Bucky kissed her exposed neck. “God, why do you gotta be so beautiful.” He mumbled. 

She smirked up at him. “Am I though.” 

He grabbed her by the waist holding her up. “You better take that back your fucking gorguse.” He said pointedly like he was talking to a child learning a lesson. “I’ll show you how fucking gorguse you are.” He pulled down her panties she wore under the dress she was wearing. 

He slowly fucked her making every moment worth it as he pushed in and out of her. “Oh god.” She moaned lowly, kissing and nipping at his arm. 

Eventually, after both of them got ready for bed, the husband and wife fell asleep, Bucky holding her. She started to have an awful dream, waking up gasping and reaching out for something unknown. Y/n looked out at the dark room, Bucky’s arms still around her securely, eventually she fell back to sleep ignoring whatever it was. 

The next morning Y/n cooked her breakfast and Bucky’s lunch, along with coffee for both of you, in the shirt Bucky wore the previous night at the get-together they held at their home, Bucky waited against the island in their kitchen in a suit ready for work. She packed up his lunch box. She smirked. “You know what I think you have a fever of like a 102° and you need to stay home baby.” 

Bucky laughed. “Is that so?” He held her in both of his arms, kissing her. “Whoops, looks like you got what I got now.” He said going along with her joke. “I gotta go make that bank.” He laughed, heading out the door, Y/n followed after her husband, every other woman on her block watched as their husbands left for work, and drove away.

 Natasha walked over to her best friend. “Now it's time for some of our fun.” The Red haired woman handed off a margarita to her friend. 

Y/n laughed. “Nat you're so bad.” 

The friend put her hands up in defense. “Hey, I only drink a little around the kids, just a smidge.” Natasha laughed, smoking her cigarette. 

“I’ll see you later Nat.” Y/n said before she downed the margarita, and headed back to her house, to eat and then clean up a bit. She did all of her usual cleaning of the windows, the bathtub, toilet, laundry, and anything else, then she headed into town to get some groceries, everything from candy to meat had WV marked on it, she placed what she got into the cart she grabbed when entering, then once home she put all that she got into its corresponding place, whether it be the fridge or a cupboard. 

Later that night when Bucky came home from work, he smiled when seeing Y/n in one of the many dresses he had bought for her in the past. Bucky smiled, pulling her close, forgetting the drink she had made for him, as he started making love to her on the table in their dining room, his tongue flicked against her clit as he showed her how much he loved her, working her to her edge of reality, her head felt light, as an orgasm rang through her body she gripped the edge of the dining table as he continued tasting the sweet river of life on his tongue. Y/n’s chest moved up and down in a rough pattern with sweat on her forehead. 

That night going to bed Bucky turned to her. “Did you hear about the new couple in town?” Bucky asked as he undid the shirt he wore that day.

Y/n looked at him with furrowed brows and shook her head. “No?” 

“Yeah um, they're having a get-together at the Stark’s home tomorrow to celebrate, um there names are Wanda and Vision.” Bucky explained to Y/n before he took his pants off. 

“That’s an odd name.” Y/n stated. 

Bucky huffed a laugh. “Yeah but uh we gotta just get used to him.” 

The next day, she and Bucky headed to Tony and Pepper's house, Tony had created what Westview is known for a peaceful place for people to settle down together. Y/n, Peggy, Natasha, and Wanda, sat together. “So Wanda um is Vision a nickname or something?” Peggy asked. 

“His parents were quite intelligent people but they weren’t great with names, I mean his mother was named Jocasta and his father was Jarvise, so yeah.” Wanda said with a shrug, the three other women nodded and hummed along with the explanation. 

Tony and Pepper came out to talk to the large crowd of people. “Thank you all for coming here today, I know we don’t usually do this, but Wanda and Vision are our one hundredth couple to come to Westview.” Tony spoke to everyone. 

“No!” Everyone's attention settled on Valkyrie, Carol’s wife, she laughed incredulously. “You trapped them here, all of us are trapped.” She said with panic, everyone started to whisper to one another. 

“Not here, not now.” Carol hissed at her wife before rushing away with her.

Tony huffed out through his nostrils and hid his irritation with a serious but delightful smile. “We all know that hard times have fallen upon Val and Carol, but no worries, all will be well, they will be fine, no worries.” Tony declared. 

Y/n turned to look for Bucky but he was missing. She went to go look for him, on her way she found Carol and Valkyrie, sitting in a side room, Valkyrie seemed to be crying. “Y/n, please, please believe me.” She sobbed, and Y/n felt a huge amount of empathy for her friend of hers.  

Carol turned to Y/n. “She’s fine, ignore her.” The blond said passively, before closing a curtain around the two of them. 

She shook her head as if to get what she just saw out of her head, she looked around for just a moment longer, and then she found her husband trying to fix his tie. “Hey what's wrong baby?” She asked, coming up from behind. 

“Yeah, I just need to fix my tie, that's all.” He shrugged. 

Y/n smiled. “Here let me help you.” As she started to fix the tie, he sat her up on a table and pushed up the skirt of the dress she wore that day. “No Bucky, no not now, there who knows how many people out there.” 

He smiled down at Y/n as he slid down her panties and slowly slipped into Y/n, thrusting slowly and kissing her neck, she moved her head to the side to give Bucky more room, and as she looked over she spotted Tony in the corner, just watching almost, she tried to say something but I wouldn’t come out like something was stopping her, and Bucky continued unknowingly, just trying to show his love to his wife.

After cleaning herself up and Y/n fixing her hair, she turned to Bucky with a serious look on her face. “What’s wrong?” He asked. 

Y/n looked at him with furrowed brows. “Did you not see Tony just watching us?”

Bucky looked at Y/n like she was crazy. “What no, Tony wouldn’t do that Y/n.” He huffed. 

“I know what I saw Bucky.” Y/n huffed, Bucky just shrugged off, before he led her back outside.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #dark bucky #soft dark #dark!fic #soft dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x y/n #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes #1950's #tony stark #platonic!steve x reader #best friend Natasha x reader #platonic natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #valkirye x carol #don't worry darling

[my-helping-hand]

If I have to choose one, I’d choose you.

Y/N was a mysterious and powerful individual who had developed the ability to manipulate emotions. With her powers, she could make anyone fall deeply in love with her. Recognizing the potential havoc she could wreak, the Avengers deemed her their biggest enemy.

Y/N used her powers to sow chaos among the team, causing rifts in their unity and distracting them from their mission. The Avengers, usually a cohesive force, suddenly found themselves infatuated with Y/N, unable to resist her charm.

However, Y/N had a change of heart. She realized the damage she was causing and decided to use her powers for good. She resolved to find her forever love, someone who could see past her abilities and accept her for who she truly was.

As Y/N spent more time with the Avengers, she discovered their individual strengths, weaknesses, and unique personalities. She formed deep connections with each member, understanding their hopes, dreams, and fears. But she knew she had to make a choice.

Y/N found herself torn between several Avengers, all of whom had fallen under her spell. She considered Captain America, who embodied honor and integrity, and Thor, whose passion and power intrigued her. She also felt a connection with Black Widow, who shared her past of secrets and redemption.

After much contemplation, Y/N realized that her true forever love was none other than Iron Man himself, Tony Stark. Despite his flaws and ego, she saw the vulnerability beneath his confident exterior. She recognized that he needed love and acceptance more than anyone else.

Y/N revealed her decision to Tony, who was initially skeptical. He had been hurt before and was wary of falling into another trap. However, as Y/N spent more time with him, showing him the genuine love and care she had for him, Tony's walls slowly began to crumble.

Together, Y/N and Tony worked to mend the damage caused by her powers. They helped the Avengers see that their emotions had been manipulated and forgave Y/N for her past actions. With her powers now under control, Y/N and Tony embraced their love and began a new chapter together.

Y/N's power to make the Avengers fall in love with her became a force for good as she used it to heal and strengthen their bonds. Their shared experiences and newfound trust made them an unstoppable team, proving that even the greatest enemies can find redemption and love.

I hope you enjoy this: I do now except request🤎

#dark!reader #tony stank #tony stark #captain america #black widow #tony x you #thorin oakenshield #thor x reader #black widow x female reader #steve x reader #dark!reader x avengers

[seikkoi]

ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴘᴛ.2 | tony stark x f!reader

18+ minors dni

part one | part three

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

word count: 3,745

“Show me that you truly understand this time.” Tony’s words come out short and heavy, switching from his earlier casual demeanor. You ball your fists at your sides. The fear and anticipation do their now common dance, moving across your stomach. Like before, you’re certain he’s not asking.  “And if I don’t? If I just leave and quit your company?”. Your voice is like a mouse, small and with little confidence. The threat is mostly empty, after all.  That signature Stark smirk spreads across his face. “You think I’d let you do that?”

You pull your hair back, only to let the tresses fall. This continues for a few minutes, a frustrating cycle of trying to get your locks to stay just perfect. This level of obsession might be understandable- if you weren’t just going to work. 

Last night, Tony didn’t offer another word after the kiss. The billionaire simply stepped out of the elevator, hitting the button to send you back down to the lobby, alone. His behavior was confusing, a constant back and forth between love and anger. More importantly, it was farthest from what you expected. As the elevator lowered, you raked over the last hour in your head with impunity. Every word Tony said- anger, praise, shame, every syllable stuck to you like glue. What happened only minutes ago passed more like hazy memories. You ran shaky fingers over bruised skin, head still spinning. It takes you embarrassingly long to feel the warm fluid leaking between your thighs, not even noticing when he finished earlier- too blinded by everything else. You feel your face heat at the excitement it reinstills in you, and another wave of guilt follows. How had he gotten you from confident and rightfully upset to guilty and bruised? Was it worse that it didn’t bother you nearly as much as it should? You wanted to curse him for being right.

You’re certain you look a complete mess as you exit to the lobby. Thankful that it’s a late night (or maybe even early morning at this point), your first few steps are uneasy across the lobby’s hard, shiny floor. The click of your heels echoes in the empty room until you’re out the main doors, back into cold, night air. 

You weren’t expecting him to reach out that night, not at all. But you failed to plan for facing him at Stark Industries the next day. In the morning, the floodgates opened letting the memories of last night play out in your mind. Notwithstanding the raging headache and pain all over your body. You laid in bed for an indiscriminate amount of time, contemplating calling in sick. You’d never done that a day in your life but it felt preferential to seeing Tony in an hour.

Eventually, you say “ Fuck it,”,  deciding that the worst thing he could do during the workday is fire you. You try to let your clothing cover the bruises as best they can. The ones marking your backside are easy enough, but your throat and wrists remain a problem. Your usual dresses and skirts aren’t an option, leaving your only choice to be pants and a long sleeve shirt. However, as you apply foundation to the tender flesh on your neck, you are antagonized over which garment to choose. You were suddenly conscious of your appearance to Tony, analyzing past outfits versus what you wore last night, and what would be an inconspicuous choice for today. You worried about seeming too desperate or yearning for his attention- or anyone else’s for that matter. The decision finally fell onto a simple, green, long-sleeved blouse and black pants. Not too loose, not too tight-hopefully. 

The same dilemma came with your hair, leading to the present predicament. You finally give up, settling to let it down. If anything, it would help hide your neck. 

You arrived at work, relieved to see Tony’s office packed full for a meeting, allowing you to walk by without worrying if he saw you. It was stupid really, to hide from him at his own company, but you didn’t know how else to act. After years of working for him, to do what he did,  say  what he did, you didn’t even know how to feel. 

In most cases, the normal reaction would be to tell him off, quit, and move away. Actually, the more normal reaction might’ve been to resist him more last night. That thought is quickly snuffed, bringing you to the realization that you didn’t want to resist. You’d let him do whatever he thought you deserved, whatever he wanted. Just like he said. 

Shame and arousal slide down your throat like a bitter seed as you reach the end of the hall and enter your office. The white noise of the office is shut out by the frosted glass door behind you, leaving you in peace. You sit at your desk, turning on computers and lights in an effort to only think about quarterly reports and tax deductions for the next eight hours.

Hour one is brutal, as you keep needing to send emails in which Tony is cc’d or otherwise just mentioned (because life is fucking with you, specifically). Eventually, your work transitions from digital interaction to pure calculations. Time passes easily under the gentle clicks of calculators and harsh pen scratches. You’re able to forget about the pain between your legs, last night, and Tony Stark for a blissful portion of the day. It’s just you and the company finances in the four walls of your office. During that time, you forget about the incident in its entirety- that is until a knock is heard at your door.

By this point, you’re seated on the floor, papers and folders strewn about all corners of your office. This was the more typical state of the room when you were working. Especially since you got so absorbed in it that it was now seven p.m., rather than sometime around three like you were thinking. You’re brought out of your focused trance by the knock, suddenly noticing the dark sky out the windows. 

Your head's down, checking your phone after forgetting about it for so long when you shout  come in . 

“Think you might ‘wanna call it quits?” You don’t look up until he speaks, realizing it’s Tony.

In an instant, every touch he gave last night is felt again on your body. There’s almost fear, with you looking up at him in the dark office. Mostly because you don’t have a single guess as to what he’s here for.

“I, um, sorry. I just kinda got a little absorbed I guess.”, you say, averting his eyes to reshuffle some papers in front of you. 

Tony steps into the office, hands resting in his pockets. You guess that he must be having a late working night, since his suit jacket is absent and his clothes are wrinkled. The door closes behind him, shutting him in with you. 

“It’s late. Have you eaten?” He speaks softly but curtly, without any temper or dissatisfaction. It’d almost make more sense to you if he was still pissed. Worse, unlike yesterday, now he can’t seem to  not  look at you.  

His question wasn’t out of the ordinary, either. It was more common for you to get engrossed in your work, even more so for you to forget about eating when doing so. This was something Tony picked up on early in your time at Stark. You’re not sure when it started, but occasionally during late nights, you’d leave for the restroom and come back to find dinner waiting on your desk. You never asked Tony about it, and he never claimed responsibility for it. Now, though, it was the kind of concern you couldn’t match to the tender marks on your skin. 

His question confirms it for you, though. You hadn’t really left your office today, so you deduce that means he couldn’t do his usual antics. It sparks an angry fire, aimed at yourself and Tony. Tony, for doing hidden acts of compassion and then ripping your clothes- and yourself for falling for it. 

You’re angry and confused enough to still avert your gaze, as you stand and move some papers to your desk. He mirrors your path so that he’s on the opposite side, the desk being the only separation between you two. 

“Not really your concern.”, you mutter, really trying to focus on getting your things together and not whatever intoxicating cologne he wore. Vanilla and sage took over your senses. It must have been the same cologne from last night because you can feel the warmth growing in your core. As he continues to watch you intently, you open your laptop to check  one  last thing.

Annoyed at your aversion, he shuts the laptop, only narrowingly avoiding your fingers. You give a confused but pointed glare in response. 

“Is there a problem?”, he asks, keeping both palms on the laptop, slightly leaning towards you over the desk. The sudden closeness is intimidating, making you want to recoil but you know better now. There’s a smirk tugging the corners of his mouth like he’s pleased with your discomfort. It draws your eyes to his lips which reminds you of the kiss less than twenty-four hours ago. Before you know it, your mind is back in the elevator. It’s entirely too distracting, causing you to forget he even asked you anything in the first place.

He grows a bit impatient at your lack of response, putting a hand under your chin to force your eyes on his. If this was done a day ago, you smack his hand away and ask what the hell got into him. Or maybe you wouldn’t.

“You’re distracted. I asked you a question.” Tony shifts his hand to the side of your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. He looks into your eyes with a furrowed brow, thinking. He scans your face like he’s searching for something before his face softens. 

When you start to question him, he uses his unoccupied hand to run his thumb across your neck with enough pressure to make you wince and reveal a portion of the mark he left. 

“Hm,’" he says, letting go and stepping away from the desk. It gives you the impression that he’s somehow bothered by it as if he’s not the cause. You can feel the tears brimming again- a sickly combination of the soreness in your throat and the way the sudden loss of his touch makes you feel. 

“What do you want from me, Tony?”, your words cut like glass through gritted teeth. It’s bold, but you’re not bold enough to look at him when you say it, once again caught staring at your shoes. 

“ Tony?  That’s new for you.” He gives a dry chuckle, stepping over files to round the desk towards you. “And I already told you what I  expect  from you. It’s not really a matter of wants.” 

As he comes close, your heart starts to race. Terror and anticipation are working in tandem- you don’t know if he’s going to give you another mark or another kiss. Maybe it’d be neither, and he was simply going to make you undone again with his words. You curse yourself for losing track of time. If you had noticed the clock, perhaps you could’ve slipped out while Tony was still preoccupied. 

He stays at your side, eyes burning a hole through you. Your feet are planted firmly on the floor, body pointed towards the desk. You know there’s no point in arguing- seeing as how it didn’t get you far last night. Even if you did, it’d be pointless. You’d been devoted to Stark for years now, working diligently and sometimes obsessively to make sure the money always followed smoothly. Thinking back, you can’t recall a time you’ve ever even told him no. Not a work task, a personal favor, or the recent invitations to all these galas and fundraisers. It was always  “Of course, sir”  and “ Yes, Mr. Stark”.

The fact that he was anything less than happy with your behavior last night hurt enough on its own. Once you got home last night, you couldn’t wash away the guilt. In this world, anyone would kill for your job, safe and secure behind the most respected man on Earth. Denying the man who signed your checks for such a comfortable life felt like the wrong thing to do. Last night, all he did was remind you who you worked for- and who you were there for.  

“But, for your sake, I'd watch it with the attitude,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m having dinner with a few potential investors unless you have somewhere else you’d rather be?” 

“No, nowhere.” A half-truth. Honestly, you wanted to go home and soak in a warm bath until the day passed behind you. But the part of you that you’ve been trying to ignore wants to jump at the offer. Then another part, the rational part, is screaming at you to run away. It’s also the part that won’t let you look at him.

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”, he graces a hand to your shoulder.

You don’t shift an inch, but the tears work their way back anyway. “I don’t  understand  you.”

Tony pushes the hand at your shoulder, forcing you to turn his way. “What don’t you understand?”

It’s the legitimate confusion on his face that sets off the budding spark. Again, with his constant audacity. 

“You, I don’t fucking understand you ! Years I work for you, you don’t make a pass, you don’t try and touch me, you don't do any of this shit! And then last night you do  this  and tell me how devoted I should be!” You point to the marks dotting your skin, nearly shouting. 

“I was already doing that you  asshole! ” At the end of your insult, you go to push Tony away, palms aimed at his shoulders. Not fond of your outburst, however, he grabs already sore wrists to stop you, leaving you in another wave of pain. 

“I warned you about the attitude,” he says, gently shoving you away. While you’re rubbing at the tender flesh in shock, he turns the leather chair at your desk and takes a seat. “But you’re right. You were, but not enough. You think that was the first time I’ve seen you act like a complete slut?”

The word hits like a slap to the face, causing you to jerk your head up to look at him. “W-what?”

He sighs, leaning back. “Do you even notice everyone checking you out? At meetings, galas, that fundraiser a few weeks ago. You keep every man’s attention. Even around here with what you’ve chosen to wear to work lately. I think this is the first day I haven't seen you in a dress in months. 

Tony pauses to run a hand through his hair. “I figure you either like the attention, or you’re just trying to piss me off. Either way, I won’t stand for it.”

Tony pauses as you stand there stunned. You’d never been super aware of your body, nor worried about what you put on it (until this morning, that is). But he was right- you  were  aware of the attention it garnered. This morning, knowing that your boss had taken notice, caused the massive dilemma in getting dressed. 

“Yesterday, you needed to be taught a lesson, simple as that. I started inviting you to these things  because  I noticed you, because you were loyal- you know what I need and you get it done. Don’t make me think I was wrong.” He gets more comfortable in the chair, spreading his legs slightly and resting his hands on his thighs.

Tony signals you over with a draw of two fingers. Mind barely processing, you comply, taking small steps until the inside of his knees graces your legs. He takes your hands in his, glancing his eyes over your wrists before looking up at you, eyes dark.

“Show me that you truly understand this time.” Tony’s words come out short and heavy, switching from his earlier casual demeanor. You ball your fists at your sides. The fear and anticipation do their now common dance, moving across your stomach. Like before, you’re certain he’s not asking. 

“And if I don’t? If I just leave and quit your company?”. Your voice is like a mouse, small and with little confidence. The threat is mostly empty, after all. 

That signature Stark smirk spreads across his face. “You think I’d let you do that?”

His palms wrap around your wrists tightly, pulling you to your knees before him. You cry out in pain, both from his hands on your arms and from your knees hitting the floor. 

“If you didn’t want this, you would’ve quit this morning.” Tony releases you once you reach the floor. Without much pause, his hands are on his belt. The familiar sounds of metal send shockwaves through your body. You can’t but stare at his fingers as they undo the leather before he moves on to his zipper.

“-you would get up right now and leave.” Tony frees himself from his pants. You don't have more than a second to take in his thick, long member, feeling Tony’s hand take in a fistful of your hair.

He pulls your locks tightly, pushing the tip of his cock past your parted lips when you gasp out from the pain. Tony can’t hold back a moan at the feeling of your lips wrapped around him. Just as before, he’s less than gentle, moving your head forward until you reach the base of his cock. You choke around him, trying to pull back for air which only seems to excite him. More shame bubbles as your arousal grows alongside it. He’s unrelenting, taking immense pleasure in your muffled gags. The fist in your hair keeps you in place. Tony’s groans bounce around the office walls until he thinks you’ve had enough. 

As swiftly as he entered, he pulls you back, freeing his member from your throat. The rapid departure from your mouth sending you aback on your heels, trying to regain your breath. Tony’s still smiling when you meet his eyes, irises clouded. The billionaire sits back, legs spread, an eyebrow raised, waiting.

Whether it’s because of the lack of oxygen, the taste on your tongue, the lust in his eyes, or last night- it doesn’t matter, the final switch is flipped in you. His words replayed like a record in quick succession in your mind. 

“ You know what I need and you get it done.” “I expect devotion.” “Do you think I want to see other men put their hands on you?” 

A puzzle, fit with all the pieces, comes together. The part of you that wants his forgiveness, that wants to show how loyal you are, wins the inner battle. 

You bite your lip and move back towards him, earning a pleased hum from Tony. He’s happy that he didn’t make the wrong decision in choosing you. You understood, it only took a little reminding (and he’s more than willing to do that). 

You take his cock in hand despite the burn in your wrists. Even with your willingness, a hint of fear remains. Tony’s eager to push you through that, moving the tip of his cock towards your wet lips as they part to take him in. You hum around him, your mouth gliding down his length, feeling the heavy weight of his cock against your tongue.  

He brings a hand back to your hand, gentler this time, letting you slide your mouth up and down his cock at a steady pace. 

“So good for me, aren’t you?” The softness in his words is mind-dulling, making you forget he ever hurt you in the first place. 

While he soon becomes infatuated with the sight of you sucking him off in earnest, you feel drunk all over again from the act. The subtle throbs of his member against your throat, how his grip tightens every time you reach his base, the way he tastes- it overwhelms you, eyes fluttering. Pleasing Tony Stark felt like pleasing God himself. 

You speed up, losing yourself in Tony’s heavy breaths. You sense that he’s close, given the stuttering of his hips and shaky moans. You open your eyes to glance up at him, only to find his eyes trained on you, jaw tight. Nothing but obsession colors his face, parting his mouth to swear upon noticing your gaze. 

“There's  nothing  you can do to make me stop wanting you.” Tony speaks like it’s a threat- you know that it’s a promise.

Your eyes lock as he loses any will to be gentle with you anymore. His hips snap, pushing his cock back down your throat before retracting and then crashing down your throat again. It catches you completely off-guard but you fight the urge to resist. Instead, you try to stay as still as possible, letting him fuck your throat with ease. 

It’s your complete submission that ends Tony, who pushes you to the base of his cock as he finishes. You gag around him as the warm, heavy liquid slides down your throat. Tony, who was really beginning to love the sound, withdraws from your mouth, leaving a thin trail to fall to your shirt. 

When you come back to your senses, Tony’s already put himself back together, looking down at you. You're still knelt before him, still stuck on the last thing he said. Awkwardly, you look to the ground, wiping your mouth.

You watch him stand from the corner of your eye. You’re fully expecting him to leave without another word now, as he did last night. To your surprise, he extends his hands to help you stand. Without an excuse not to, you place your hands in his to stand in front of him with sore knees. 

Once you’re up, Tony’s hand wraps around your waist to pull you in, kissing you with the same passion and longing as before. You, already past any hesitations about Stark, melt into it, letting his teeth scrape your bottom lip. It’s a long, dazing kiss that leaves you aching terribly when he pulls away.

“I meant what I said.”, he said quietly, holding you close. Absent-mindedly, Tony’s thumb brushes over the mark on your neck. To him, it's a reminder of your drunken acts. It draws up more want in you, for Tony, and Tony only. 

You want to tell him that you're his, that he’ll never have to remind you again. You knew who you devoted your life to. Sooner than you can respond, he pulls away, walking around the desk and opening your office door. 

“I hope you can behave yourself tonight, doll. I’d hate to have to leave early.”

#avengers fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x oc #tony stark fic #dark tony stark #dark mcu #tony stark smut #avengers smut #seikkoiwrites

[springdandelixn]

Warm Me Up

Dark!Boss!Tony Stark x Assistant!F!Reader

Summary: Your boss’ seemingly innocent offer of warmth is not one you expected.

Warnings: 18+ content, noncon/dubcon undertones, power play, fingers at play, tell me if I missed any, Tony is his own warning. The fic is DARK, please consume responsibly.

At long last, my first Tony Stark fic has finally been made! Been really wanting to write him for a while now and I finally found the passion to do so. It’s a short one but I hope it’s a good one.

As always, your comments and likes are deeply appreciated. Reblogs would be amazing for it would help share my work and let this piece flourish. I hope you all enjoy! I love you guys 3000! ❤️ 

You hit the steering wheel again as your car refuses to start. It’s your third attempt and each time you think it would, the engine stalls. 

You check the time on your dashboard and curse at nothing upon seeing that it’s almost midnight. You saw the warning on the weather app and even heard the other employees talking about leaving as soon as the shift was done. But you had to be kind, not wanting to disappoint your boss, and you had to accept the task Mr. Stark gave you thirty minutes before clock out.

You thought you would finish on time. Thought it was something menial that wouldn’t require you to request overtime. But each folder you opened contained the mission sheets of the Avengers, having to enter each and every detail to the dot into the database. 

You don’t even understand why they are still being printed. With Tony Stark’s cutting-edge technology, you’d have expected everything to be paperless. You avowed to ask Mr. Stark for a raise since taking care of Avengers’ matters is beyond your job description as his assistant.  

Nonetheless, you finished your task and logged out of your computer. Tucking the folders in your drawer and made your way to the elevator in hopes of making it on the road before the snow starts to fall. But alas, you failed, a thick blanket of ice already covering the pavement and now you’re stuck in the parking lot of the Avengers tower with no way home. 

You grab your phone from your bag and worry your lip as you try to book an Uber. It doesn’t surprise you that no one would take your request with the weather acting up. You sigh, your breath fogging in the confines of your car as you hit your head on the back of your seat. 

A yelp of surprise then leaves your lips when you hear a knock on your window. The image behind the fogged-up glass is blurry. You wipe away the moisture and blink when you see Mr. Stark in all his three-piece suit glory waving to you from outside, a smile on his lips, before pointing at the length of your car. 

“Car trouble?” He asks when you step outside, snow crunching underneath your shoes, hugging your coat around your frame tighter to shield you from the cold, a useless attempt as you already feel it creeping in your bones. 

“My engine won’t start.” Your voice shivers as you respond. 

You watch him walk toward the front of the vehicle, leaning down into the seat of your car to pull on the lever when he gestures for you to open it. He peeks inside and you round the car to peruse all the same. You stare at him when he clicks his tongue, his hand reaching inside to poke at the huge contraption. 

“It’s frozen.” He exclaims before looking at you, his hip leaning against the lip of the hood. “Might take a while for it to thaw out with this weather and I don’t think there are any open shops at this time.” He hums before closing the hood. “Do you have any means of going home? I’d ask Happy to take you but he’s out on an errand.”

You shake your head and quiver from where you stand. “I think the weather has scared the Uber drivers.” Your laugh comes out dry and it’s only because you find yourself screwed by the situation you’re in. “I can probably call my frie—”

“Nonsense.” Mr. Stark shakes his head and walks back to you. “You can stay here for the night and we’ll have your car checked in the morning.”

“Oh, Mr. Stark, there’s no need.” You protest. “Really, I don’t think my friend would mind picking me up.”

“Well, if you insist.” He hums, picking out his phone from his pocket before tapping on the screen. “You could at least wait inside than stay here and freeze to death, you’re already shivering, Sweetheart.” He says teasingly and you chuckle at his joke before nodding in agreement, looking at him when he closes your door and places a hand on the small of your back. 

-

You blink when the elevator passes the floor to his office, the floor where your desk is, and swallow thickly when you see it head over to the penthouse, Mr. Stark’s personal floor. 

You’ve only been here once when he was too beat up to get out of bed and you had some urgent papers that needed his signature. It wasn’t as pleasant as you thought as you caught him walking across the floor with only his boxers when the doors of the lift opened. 

You push the memory to the back of your mind and peek into the foyer when the metal barrier parts. You step out when you feel Mr. Stark’s hand press against your back and you carefully pad through the carpeted floor, standing by the two steps on instinct, and wait for him to fully welcome you in. 

You smile softly when FRIDAY greets you in her sweet, monotone voice, answering her back before folding your hands in front of you. 

“Please, make yourself at home.” Mr. Stark calls out as he makes his way to the bar. “You’re not my assistant at the moment, you’re my guest.” He gives you that usual Tony Stark charming smile and you return a soft one before making your way to the couch and taking a seat, crossing your legs as you smooth the skirt of your dress against your thighs. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Hot water, please. If you have it.” You tell him, your body visibly shakes as the heat of his private quarters and the chill in your bones begin to clash within.

You scan the place as you wait for Mr. Stark to join you. The view from the outside still looks immaculate with how it’s framed by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the muted light from the bulbs that hang above adding to its picturesque state. You notice that his usual desk is gone, one of his Iron Man suits taking its place, making you curious if it’s the one he uses on missions or simply a decoration. 

The bar, as always, is full of liquor. Almost anything you ask can be made with the various selection your boss has. You see Mr. Stark pouring some hot water into a mug and you give him a smile when he meets your eyes, looking back at the coffee table when he strides over to you. 

“Your water.” He says with a flourish and you take the mug with both hands. You whisper your thanks before lifting it closer to your face, basking in the heat that slowly bleeds into your skin.

“Still feeling cold?” He asks as he looks at you, sipping from a tumbler that’s half-filled with amber liquid before resting it against his knee. “Whiskey could help, you know.” He grins and you shake your head as you lift the mug of water. 

“The water is fine. Thank you, Mr. Stark.” 

“Please, call me Tony.” He chides with a chuckle. “I’ve told you that countless times and yet you still won’t humor me.”

“I just feel it’s inappropriate to call my boss by his first name.” You reason, taking another welcome sip of the hot liquid. 

“Alright. I’ll give you that.” He hums, animatedly tapping his cheek before tilting his head to the side, playfulness touching his lips. “When it’s work hours, Mr. Stark it is. But outside work, it’s Tony. Friends.” He hums, holding his hand out to you. “Deal?”

Even when he says it’s okay, you can’t help but feel weird about it. Yes, you know that your boss is friendly. Heck, you think he could win a Mr. Congeniality pageant with just a wink. But threading that fine line between boss and subordinate to friends just doesn’t sit well with you.

He’s kind. You’ll give him that and you think he’d be a really funny friend if circumstances were different, nevertheless, being friends with your boss just doesn’t bode well, especially with a man such as Tony Stark. He’s already working you to the bone with him being your superior and you dread that he would abuse the friendship he’s offering for you to stay later than usual in the office. 

But who are you to reject him? You’re just an assistant. A speck in his world and easily replaceable. You fear that if you deny him of simply being friends he’d put up a job ad with your position on it and you don’t even doubt that it would be flocked with applicants who dream of simply breathing the same air as the man. And job hunting isn’t listed on your to-do list as of late. 

Huffing away your anxiety, you smile and take his hand, giving it a light shake. “Deal. Friends.” You agree and you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body when the cold feeling of his hand seeps through your own. 

“You’re shaking.” He frowns as he looks down at your hand, placing his glass atop the low table in front of the couch before taking your mug from your other hand and sitting it beside his. “Come here.” Your eyes widen at his words and you try to move away from him but his grip on you tightens and he pulls you closer, your body pressing against his chest as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “There. Feeling better, Sweetheart?”

You shiver once again but not from the cold this time, but from how close he is to you. The anxiety spins within your nerves once again when he holds your shoulder a little too tight, flinching when his other hand caresses your knee. 

“Mr. Stark—”

“Ah ah, what did we agree on?” He reprimands you lightly.

“Tony.” You correct yourself, your voice shaking as you speak.

“Very good, Sweetheart.” He grins and jostles you, feeling his hand reach up to peel your coat from your shoulder.

“Tony—what are you doing?” You say as you grab his hand and try to stop him, fear slowly creeping up your spine when you see a dangerous glint in his brown eyes. 

“I just want to keep you warm. That’s all.” He grunts and tugs harshly on your coat, the force making you release his hold on him, letting the garment slip from your body. 

As soon as you’re free from its confines, you get to your feet and make a beeline to the elevator. But you don’t make it as Tony quickly grabs your hand, pulling you back on the couch. The air in your lungs gets knocked out when you land roughly on his lap, your back hitting his chest—his arc reactor making you wince in pain. 

You try to wriggle free from his hold, your hands reaching over to the armrest to pull yourself away from him. But you stop fidgeting when his hand rounds your throat, feeling his fingers dig into the side of your neck, making you cough and choke as you grab onto his wrist, panic surging through your veins. 

“Mr. St—Tony!” You gasp, your legs halting from kicking when he slaps his hand hard against your thigh. “Please—let me go.” Tears pool in your eyes from not only the pain but from the fear that fills you. 

“You’re not being a good friend right now, Sweetheart.” He growls against your ear before pressing a kiss on your shoulder. 

His hand rests on your knee once more and you push your legs together when you feel him hiking up your skirt, fingertips grazing against your bare skin. You gasp when he pinches hard on the meat of your thigh, obeying his silent command for you to part them. 

“Why are you doing this?” You cry out as his fingers graze your inner thigh, gasping when he rubs a finger against your panties, a moan escaping your lips as his thumb presses hard against your clothed clit. 

He rolls his thumb slowly and you grab his wrist as you attempt once more to stop him. You don’t understand why he’s doing this, confused why he’s chosen to torture you with such perversion when you’ve done nothing to deserve it. When you’ve done everything to be a good employee. 

He’s an Avenger. He’s supposed to be kind. He’s supposed to be one of the good guys. They don’t do these kinds of things but rather prevent them. 

“I already told you, Sweetheart,” He hums against your ear, pulling you back to have your head press against his shoulder, his goatee prickling you as he trails kisses on your skin, the act making you quake once more in terror. 

“I just want to keep you warm.” His voice makes your stomach roil in disgust, his finger pushing your panties to the side and you close your eyes as your body goes rigid from his unwanted touch.

You clamp your lips down to prevent another moan from escaping you, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your body responding to his touch. But it’s once more a failed attempt as your lips part when he slides a digit through your pussy, your mind fighting yet your body succumbing to his depravity. 

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x female reader #tony stark x you #dark tony #dark tony stark #dark fic #iron man #iron man au #tony stark fanfiction #boss au #mcu #mcu au #coconut bun stories #dark!tony stark

[dee-writes-smut]

Hello, beautiful! Welcome to my blog, I hope you find everything you are looking for.

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MASTERLIST - a list of all of my works in one place. how convenient! RECOMMENDATIONS - a list of works (with tagged writers) for your enjoyment. (under construction)

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CURRENT SERIES: SEASONS - Azriel x Illyrian!reader - as the seasons change, so do circumstances, or you slowly realize your feelings as Azriel takes care of you through the seasons. - finished!

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#navigation #masterlist #marvel #steve stranger things #stranger things #chris evans #sebastian stan #fanfiction recommendation #lastest #steve harrington x reader #steve rogers masterlist #tony stark x you #dark!stucky x reader #winter soldier smut #dark!bucky smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader

[1800jjbarnes]

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗: 𝐃𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚/𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 ◇

Prove It

【Synopsis】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex... right?

『W.C』 : 3.10k

-> Genre: College Au. Smut. Poly.

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Stark!Reader

[Warnings] : Man handling. Clit play. Pet names. Dirty talk. Neck kisses. Fingering. Oral. Crying. Overwhelming amount of emotions leading to a type of subspace. Ass slapping. Making out. Sweet kisses. This is jut all over the place I’m sorry.

Masterlist | Kinktober List

You couldn’t recall the time, but your hazy eyes and wobbly legs made it out to seem it was nearing at least three in the morning. You weren't a morning person, and neither seemed to be your body. But you couldn’t sleep, no, you needed a glass of water before your throat shrivelled up on itself. You hummed and hared over it, and in the end, you kicked up the blankets and headed to the kitchen. You had planned to down a bottle, waddle back to your room, and lay staring at the ceiling until it was appropriate to officially get out of bed. That was until;

“I’m just saying I see no chance of that ever happening.” Bucky's whisper, yelled through the dark home. You assumed he was in the lounge. Curious, you headed over to see what he might be talking about. Gazing into the room without detection, you notice Bucky sitting on the twin couch while another, scruff-haired, sits on the opposite couch. “Steve…” He sighed, “I’m gonna lose my mind at this point.”

“We could always just, ask.” Steve sounded as if he had discovered the perfect answer. But Bucky throwing a pillow in his direction says otherwise.

“For a dude majoring in social studies, you are stupid.” Bucky tisked, leaning back so his head would drape over the top of the couch. You decided to step out and make your presence known, wanting to join and see what this oh, so terrible situation they seemed to have put themselves in.

“Ask who?” You responded, making both men physically jump. Neither of them must have heard you when you were slamming the fridge before. Bucky suddenly sat up straight while Steve reached for the pillow that was thrown at him. You raised your eyebrow a little, choosing to sit on the loveseat by yourself. Were they acting weird, or was it just your imagination?

“Oh just school drama, don’t worry about it.” Steve was quick to cut off any more questions. They were definitely acting weird, and you hated that. Most of the time, out of all your brother's friends, Steve and Bucky were the friendliest. They treated you like a person and not some little girl or ‘Tony's Little Sister’.

“Hmm…” You didn’t know how to respond that wouldn’t turn into something sour. So you chose to just let it go. It’s not like it was the first time one of your brother's friends cut you off because it was ‘school-related’ even though they were all in their second-to-last year in Uni while you had only just started. On top of that, they treated you as if you were still this young eighteen-year-old. Most of them even forgetting you were twenty-one already.

“Sorry doll. It’s just…We don’t need to bore you with our stupid drama. Besides I’m more interested to hear about that boyfriend of yours. How have you two been getting along?” Bucky diverted the conversation as easy as breathing. One of his many skills. Sweet talking. You wanted to roll your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, well, ex now. You don’t even know why you started dating him. Oh wait, you only started dating him to see if it affected Buck or Steve. But neither of them showed signs of disapproval. Which annoyed you. Your crush on them was getting out of hand, and your friend suggested dating someone to see if they would react, but now you wished you never took that advice from her.

“Ex. He, uh, wasn’t a great person. And in every aspect, full of himself and…” You stopped yourself, feeling blush, scatter your cheeks. You were really about to confess something about your sex life to them. Steve raised his eyebrow while Bucky clicked his tongue. Their attention was completely on yours, and it made you squirm.

“And?” Steve had a feeling what you wanted to say but he wanted to hear it from your pretty lips first.

“And…He wasn't experienced in the…L-Love department.” You gulped suddenly shaking your head. “But it’s not like I knew anything either given he was my first and all but like you should at least know where to pleasure a woman you know? Like I didn’t know how uncomfortable sex was until he decided to do it. It was so awful and I just—” You suddenly realized you word vomited and cringed internally. “Wanna crawl into a hole and never see the light of day again.”

It stayed silent for a moment, making you feel embarrassment riddle your body. But then Steve's laugh caught everyone's attention. “It’s okay. We all have that type of relationship at some point, but he couldn’t be that bad.” Steve tried to lighten the mood, trying to make you feel better, but it didn’t really help. You stole a quick glance at Bucky and noticed he was also looking at you with some type of remorse, feeling bad for you. You just groaned, pushing your legs to your chest, hugging them tightly.

“No, he was pathetic, if I’m honest. I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s true… he only cared for his needs..” It was like a switch went off in both male's heads. They knew what you were referencing, and they both couldn’t help but groan at you, basically saying you couldn’t get off to your ex. Admitting you were sexually frustrated. Admitting he couldn’t even do the simplest job of finding your sweet spot. You gulped, feeling the air become thicker as tension started to brew in the room. You shifted slightly, seeing Steve and Bucky both seem to become tense, stealing glances at one another.

“Finding the clit isn’t that hard darling.” Bucky chuckled lewdly making Steve laugh in response but you snapped instead;

“That’s what all men say.” You huffed.

“I can prove it.” Bucky's words made you choke on your own saliva. Did he really just say he could prove it? How would he do that?

“P-prove it?” You gulped now sitting in a crossed-legged position.

“Yeah I’ll prove it. Come here.” He smirked, patting his thigh while spreading his legs. You were hesitant for a moment. Was this all a trick? Some cruel game? You trusted your bothers friends with your life, but one thing you knew about them was they are heart breakers. Bad boys. And that they didn’t have the best track record with keep partners. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

His voice was stern, and it made something tingle inside you. Slowly getting up, you hesitantly walked the three steps till you were standing right in front of him. He took that as a green light, grabbing your thighs to pull you onto him. Your hands found perch on his shoulders while your legs fell on either side of his lap, spreading yourself open on top of him. He stared at you in amusement, watching you like a hawk about to consume its prey. Your body felt hot, and your cheeks were dusted with a deep red. You’ve never been this close to him before. Never been so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. His hands squeezing your hips. His erection twitched beneath you. “You ready to be proven wrong, Darling?”

You nodded before slipping out a quick breathy ‘yes’. You felt the couch shift and noticed out the corner of your eye that Steve had taken a seat next to you and Bucky. The younger however didn’t do anything, just stayed back and stared at what might unfold in front of him. Bucky placed his fingers against your chin, making your attention completely his. The grin he wore sent shivers down your spine, and the hand that danced so closely to your inner thigh made you want to roll your eyes back in pleasure. “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna place my two fingers on your clit through your sleep shorts and if I find it. I want you to moan my name. Can you do that Dollface?”

You blurted a ‘yes’ a little bit too quickly, but you couldn’t care. All you could think about was Bucky and him touching you. So without another moment, Buck brought his fingers to your inner thigh, hovering just where you need him. You could tell he was faking in “trying” to find your button. He knew where it was, but he wanted to watch you squirm a little bit first. And before you could mutter anything he place his fingers right on your clit making you gasp. “James.”

“Told you I could prove it.” His confidence radiated off him, rubbing your nub in little circle, making you thread your fingers in his loose shirt. Your hips were stuttering, begging to move, and your eyes were sewn shut, focusing on the pleasure alone.

“Hey, I wanna try.” Steve's deep voice tickled your ear, making your head snap over to him. You didn’t even get a chance to protest, even though you knew you wouldn’t, before wrapping his large arms around your waist and picking you up so he could place you on his lap. Your back was firmly against his chest, letting him shove his face in your neck. You felt his lips graze your hot skin, making you wiggle in his hold. “Let’s make this more fun.”

Steve's fingers hooked under your sleep shorts, making you freeze. Your eyes are glued to Buck's dark ones. They were blown out, watching you carefully with lust. You lifted your hips without saying anything, letting Steve take your shorts off, along with your panties. Your heart was racing at the thought they were both going to touch you, but your mind also wandered to the others in the house. Yes, they all might be sleeping, but any of them could walk in and see what the two men were doing to you. “S-Stevie pleasee.”

“Oh, Sugar, I haven’t even touched you yet.” He chuckled, making Bucky lowly laugh at your desperation. These boys had you wrapped around their fingers. Steve slid his hand up your thigh, spreading your legs wide so Bucky got a good view of your dripping cunt. You tried to close them, but Steve's strong grasp kept them still. You felt embarrassed being the only one basically naked, and on top of it being naked in front of two people you had a huge crush on. Neither of them seemed to mind one bit though, Bucky having the temptation to latch his lips on your soaked cunt while Steve wanted nothing more then to fuck you with his fingers until you were crying.

Actually now that he thinks about it, that sounds like the perfect idea.

“And 3…2…1” His finger pressed perfectly on your clit making you jump. “Gotcha.” Steve grins, licking a strip up your neck, placing kisses down on your shoulder blade. His fingers circle your clit furiously, causing a hiccup to spit out of you. Bucky took this moment to lay down on his stomach so he was face to face with your pussy. He slid his long hot tongue along your folds.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Buckkyy. S-Stev―” Steve suddenly covered your mouth with his hand, hushing you from screaming. Your hips bucked, feeling Bucky slowly push a finger inside you. Your eyes sealed shut tight, feeling Steve's fingers on your clit, his lips biting and sucking all over your neck and Bucky's tongue lapping your juices up while he fucked you with his digits. It was like a sinful wet dream had come true and your mind was spinning at the thought.

“As much as we’d love to hear you scream our names. You better keep those pretty moans on the down-low doll. Otherwise, someone might hear us. And we won't want that now, do we.” Steve's deep voice grunted in your ear as you just nodded in response, losing yourself once again in the touch of both men. Tears start to prickle on the sides of your eyes as you felt your stomach tie itself in knots. You were so close to coming undone yet so fair as well. Your mind couldn’t take it anymore, and you needed more. You tried to speak, but your mouth was covered tightly. Bucky continued with his assault on your cunt, shoving another two fingers in while lapping up your cream all the while Steve had dressed you in his marks from the top of your neck to your back down your shoulder blade. His fingers never left your clit either.

“mm…mmm.” No matter how hard you tried to warn them something felt different about your high fast approaching. The large hand over your mouth made it ultimately useless. You bucked your hips moving in time with Bucky's fingers, feeling yourself begin to cry. And not cry like a few simply tears, no. You began to sob, feeling so overwhelmed and unable to communicate, made your mind shift into a place you had no idea existed. Your brain mushed, making you feel like you were floating. And only Steve and Bucky were around. You let go. Screaming a muffled whale, you squirted all over Bucky's face. Your tears stained Steve's hand while your nose began to drool. Once Buck helped you lessen your high, he sat up, taking a look at the mess you made.

“Awe princess. Look at this.” he gathered some of your cum and pushed it against Steve's lips. He sucked on the other male's finger with a groan making you cry even more. They both took notice of your tears and removed the hand over your mouth. You hiccuped, whimpering. Sobbing. Your fingers dug into the couch as Steve finally let you close your legs. Everything was happening all at once, and your body was aching from the awkward position. But you need your boys. You needed them to look after you.

“P-Please Sirs…I need more…” Your sweet high pitched voice caused both men to groan, feeling their cocks harden in their pants.

“Fuck Sugar. You okay?” Ste e tilted your head to the side so he could look at you. Your face was red, puffy and wet. “Pretty baby is crying. Did it feel that good?”

You couldn’t find a response in your fuzzy brain, so instead, you kissed him. Steve's eyes grew wide for a second, not thinking you’d kiss him. But who is he to complain when your lips were so soft and kissable. Cupping your face, he deepened the kiss, making you shake. He pulled away first, letting your catch your breath, but you did see it like that suddenly sitting up you got on all fours so you could reach, Bucky who was leaning on the other end of the couch. Your face was inches from his but didn’t move until he placed his fingers on your chin.

The kiss was desperate and rough. Bucky's fingers raked through your hair before tugging at it, making your hips wiggle, which conveniently made your bare ass jiggle in front of Steve. Now, saying Steev was an ass man was an understatement. This man lives for asses, and your ass was definitely one of the prettiest ones he's ever seen. He gave a harsh slap, sending a loud clap echoing through the room. Your moan was swallowed by Bucky, letting him shove his tongue deep down your throat. Steve kept slapping your bare cheeks, finding pleasure in seeing his hand prints appear on your soft skin.

“Hey, punk if we keep going I might have to fuck her,” Steve said so casually as if neither of them were tainting your idea of pleasure permanently. Bucky pulled away making you chase his lips.

“I think we need to end it otherwise we’d both be fucking her. And I don’t think we have the time.” Bucky chuckled, leaning back to place his arms on either side of the couch, tilting his head back with a sigh. Steve rubbed your ass, helping you sit up back to lean against his chest. His hands danced around your hips snaked up your shirt noticing you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Too bad, we didn’t get to play with these yet.” Steve cupped your breasts, squeezing them harshly. Your eyes never left Bucky's form. He tilted his head up briefly to watch Steve's hands play with your covered tits. You bit your lip, lifting your shirt up so he could see Steve’s assault.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned wanting nothing more than to have those tits in his mouth. He sighed shaking his head before standing up to pick up your shorts and panties up. “Come on sweet thing, let’s get you to bed.”

You whined at the idea of having to end such a pleasurable ordeal. But sadly, they were right. You had no clue how long you’d been at this, and if your brother were to wake up, there would be hell to pay. You take your clothes from Bucky, putting them back on while Steve helped you stand. Your breathing was heavy, and your legs were on godly wobbly, but Steve's hard, strong arms kept you up. Once dressed, you looked up to Bucky, seeing a sweeter, less lustful smile on his features. He stood so close while Steve stood flush behind you. They were effectively sandwiching you. Bucky gave you a long, drawn-out kiss before guiding your face with his fingers on your chin to Steve, letting the other man seal his lips against your own. It felt so natural to be shared by them. And they felt the same. It was like one fluid motion. Comfort. And you were hating that it was ending. Once Steve pulled away, you looked back at Bucky, getting ready to wish them a good night. Until he said ;

“Don’t worry Doll. This isn’t over yet. Our fun is only beginning.”

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[randomshyperson]

Heal - Scarlet!Wanda x Vampire!Reader - Kinktober #08

Summary: By freeing an imprisoned immortal from the Darkhold Castle, the Scarlet Witch did not expect to gain a friend who would help her heal the woman she tried to bury in the temple's wreckage. In return, Wanda might help you face the demons from your past that were locked away with you.

Warnings: (+18), service!top reader, praising, intimate smut, blood-feeding, vampire and witchcraft lore, and a lot of plot, implied depression and self-harming tendencies, really soft smut with explicit consent, mutual pining, friends to lovers | Words: 9.671k

A/N-> My only vampire reference is TVD, so expect many similarities to the show’s lore. And I repeat again that there is a sinful lack of stories that deal with the status of wizarding royalty of which Wanda is part. Please, she literally has the title of Queen of Chaos, her family has inherited the magic of chaos for generations, we need to talk about this. I hope you guys like this one, this story ended up having more depth than I expected and it was quite fun to write it.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

After destroying a thousand-year-old castle and not getting out of the impact zone, Wanda definitely didn't expect comfort. In addition to the pain of recent events, from realizing that she had finally become a villain, and was closer to the people who had destroyed her life than to the friends she once lost, she also had to see the clear fear in the alternative versions of the children she missed. So she put an end to it all, more tired than anything, and waited for the pain to go away. The blackout from the impact put an end to it, of course, and just like years before when she turned to dust after losing the only person she still had left, she breathed a sigh of relief into the darkness.

But Wanda woke up. And to her complete surprise, comfort came in the softest sheets she had ever felt, perhaps even more comforting than the expensive cloth Tony Stark had once bought for the rooms in Avengers Tower. The bed she was lying on could easily have been mistaken for royalty, and Wanda barely had time to become alert before a slightly unfamiliar face entered her field of vision.

"You." She gasped in surprise, her voice a little hoarse. Now conscious, she was aware of the pain around her body, but she could also feel her magic doing the hard work and taking the sensation away. You smiled gently and, without leaving your sitting position on her bed, waited for her to adjust to the mattress. Wanda frowned. "But why?"

You sighed, shrugging slightly. Now sitting up, Wanda realized that your lap wasn't empty. A breakfast tray was waiting for her as if you were aware that she would wake up soon and had brought the food just in time. The item was leisurely placed next to her, but Wanda continued to look at you, waiting for an explanation as to why someone who had disappeared almost the second after the first meet, reappeared to save her from the wreckage of her mistakes.

"I know you're confused, but please eat. You've slept for days, miss." It's your comment, but the witch shakes her head.

"Don't worry about it. It's... nowhere near the longest I've gone without food." The quiet confession about the period of darkhold abuse makes you sigh sadly, and Wanda feels a curiosity rise in her chest. You don't know her, so why do you care? 

Your hands move to the toast you've prepared for her, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she finally notices the tray with your movements. Your breakfast choices are just right - delicious foods stare back at her. And you busy yourself with adding some jam to the toast that makes Wanda's mouth water.

"Forgive me for taking so long to find you, I was a bit overwhelmed upon returning after so long." You then declare, handing back the now-filled toast to one of the smaller plates. You push the item towards her as an invitation, but Wanda glares at you.

"Why did you bother coming back?"

Your eyes are kind in her direction. "I owe you my freedom."

Wanda chuckles short and incredulously. "Don't be ridiculous, I didn't even know what I was doing." She retorts immediately. "I saved you by accident, you don't owe me anything."

But you gesture to the food, and Wanda sighs in defeat, finally giving in. At the first bite, she feels the delicious jam on her tongue and sighs in satisfaction. It's amazing, she lets you know. You smile.

"It doesn't matter if our meeting was accidental, Wanda Maximoff." You state. "Your magic broke me out of my prison. If the idea of a debt doesn't please you, we can act as if upon rescuing you, I made us even."

Wanda hums with her mouth full, slightly distracted by the food. You look away, waiting for a moment, and she finishes chewing before speaking again.

"I didn't want to be rescued."

"I know."

She looks at you again, but you continue to stare straight ahead into the room. "Do you?"

You smile briefly. "Nobody who wants to live knocks down a castle on their head, miss."

The chuckle that escapes her is short, but it's the first sincere one in a long time. It's so dark, to joke about something so serious, yet she feels completely at ease doing it with you.

Wanda finishes another piece of toast before speaking again. "Do you remember the sorcerer who was with me before, when I freed you?" You meet her gaze, nodding in agreement. Wanda looks at you curiously. "He nearly shit his pants when he saw you running away from the temple. He tried to lecture me about it, and I dragged him out of there for it. But the point is... what did you do? He only told me your name. What was so terrible that your escape scared him so much?"

You sigh, getting up. Wanda imagines that she has offended you by asking and that you will leave without telling her the whole truth, and considers spying on your mind to find that out, but you just walk to the nearest drawers on the other side of the bedroom. When you return with an object in hand, Wanda wipes away the toast crumbs before accepting the item you hand her.

The old photograph makes her eyes widen. "Holy shit." She sighs impressed, getting a short laugh out of you.  Your picture wasn't a surprise, but the date from over three hundred years ago faded by the bottom. Wanda flipped the item to see the back, but your name there didn’t really explain how you were standing in front of her, as if no time had passed.

"Humans call us Vampires, but I've always liked the sound of Immortal better. Of course, the term vampire beats being called a demon or a bloodsucker." Wanda doesn't laugh at the joke, as she raises wide eyes in surprise at you. She continues to hold up the photograph, and you swallow. "I promise I won't try to harm you." Finally, she chuckles softly. You sigh in reassurance, even though the witch has just mocked your strength.

"I can't believe vampires exist." 

"Said the witch who traveled through the multiverse a few days ago." Wanda smiles, handing the photograph back to you. 

"Fair point." She murmurs. Restless, you wonder what you can do to improve her mood. She seems so sad.

Perhaps your stories could distract her. 

"I was imprisoned in Darkhold Castle a few centuries ago." You tell her, attracting her curiosity again. Your hands go into your pockets so that you can regain some ground over the full attention of such beautiful and mesmerizing irises. "There are other mystical authorities, apart from Kamar-Taj and its mages. In particular, a council of vampires. I disagreed with some traditions and was sentenced to imprisonment, but my capture was not quiet. Let's just say I earned that tomb you rescued me from, Miss." Wanda nodded in understanding, offering a small smile that ensured she wasn't judging you. It would be comical to do so, after everything that had led up to this moment. Adding to the count of her own crimes, she apparently unleashed an immortal mass murderer.

Wanda looks around, sighing softly. "I presume this place is yours."

You nod but look away from her. "Many of my properties were lost with my imprisonment. Taken back by the Council, or even stolen by other creatures. I'll deal with these usurpers later." The comment made Wanda bite the corner of her mouth. She'd never seen a vampire fight, and you seemed so sure of your own strength over anyone who stood up to you. It was attractive somehow. She pushed the thought away faster than it came. "Of course, you're welcome to stay as long as you need, even if I'm not around."

The statement makes Wanda chuckle in surprise, her cheeks slightly warm. "What? I can’t accept that. I will certainly not abuse hospitality-"

"Don't be ridiculous." You repeat her previous words with an easy smile, and the casual comment sounds different from your formal attitude so far that It's so charming that Wanda has to look away awkwardly, surprised by her own perceptions. "It's a pleasure to have you as a guest. And honestly, it's nice to have someone around after so long." The sincere confession makes her smile. Wanda understood loneliness well. You sigh. "There's enough room in this house. You can stay as long as you need."

Wanda nods. "How exactly did you get me here? And where is here exactly?"

"Northern Europe, but I'm not sure if the country's name remained the same as it was three centuries ago. And I didn't want to carry you so far from the castle, and I figured you didn't intend to return to Nepal and their Kamar Taj’s mages as well."

Wanda grimaces. "What do you mean with ‘carry me’?"

You chuckle slightly. "You were unconscious, Miss Maximoff. And buried under rubble when I found you. We don't have the same magical abilities,  so I can’t use the power of the mind to move objects or people. I picked you up, and brought you with me."

She needs to see this, and the invasion in your mind caught you off guard. Flashes of memories turn clear in your head, your figure pushing rocks out of the way until you find Wanda unconscious. You actually picked her up in your arms and started moving. At some point, you found a car, but good kilometers on the ice at high speed were walked.

Wanda leaves your mind with a sigh, and for the first time, you look upset.

"Please ask next time."

She's still coming to terms with the fact that you ran through the snow with her in your arms to apologize. "You walked half a continent for me?"

You shrug. "I ran, to be fair. Don't worry about that, it wasn't any trouble. My kind has enough strength and speed for a journey like that."

But the ease didn't detract from the significance of the attitude. Wanda could hardly remember the last time anyone had done anything for her - not even Vision, who was her partner, seemed to share any guilt when signing accords that wanted her in jail; And now a stranger was rescuing her at the end of the world just to bring her to safety, without expecting anything in return.

Her silence makes you clear your throat. "I'll give you some privacy. There's more food if you want it, and this is a suite, so the toilet is through that door. I've also taken the liberty of ordering clothes in your size while you’ve been asleep, they're all in the closet. The whole property can be explored, please feel free to do so. There’s a library and art rooms. And please, if you decide to leave, say farewell first."

Wanda smiles tenderly at your request, and you turn away. She finally realizes that you look very tidy, and calls out to you before you can leave the room.

"Are you going out?"

"Just for a few hours." You answer, frowning at the way her expression falls. "Is something wrong?"

Wanda sighs. "I just… don’t wanna be alone."

Despite the sympathy in your eyes, you hesitate. A hand on the doorframe. "Forgive me, miss, I promise I won't be long and that we can spend the rest of the day together." 

Wanda waves your concern away, starting to stand up. "Relax, I'll be fine, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your appointments. I'll explore the house while you're gone."

But despite her casual attitude, you call out to her with a certain seriousness that makes Wanda look at you again. There's something in your expression that makes it clear that you didn't buy Wanda's act at all, and that you can clearly see that she was being serious about her loneliness. Your eyes had a guilty aspect because you couldn't stay. 

You sigh, looking away as you explain: "I must feed myself, Miss Maximoff. Please don't think I'm avoiding your company."

She is slightly surprised by the confession and doesn't know exactly what to say about it. She decides to just nod, without the courage to question you further on the subject even though she's dying to know exactly in which way you're going to feed yourself.

And when you leave her alone, and she wanders around the huge rooms of that mansion, she can't help wondering where you are, if it's like in vampire stories, and you're in some alley cornering an unwary human, or if hunting animals is enough. She becomes so absorbed in her own doubts that when you return, she hasn't even finished seeing the whole place.

"Having fun?" Your question startles her slightly. She smiles, turning her attention away from the art paintings in the room and meeting your gaze again.

"You move silently."

"A talent we share."

Wanda chuckles and waits for you to approach her completely. Side by side, she is the first to speak.

"Everything here is very beautiful." She says softly. "And I may not be centuries old, but I'm no fool. It sounds too good to be true. Be honest, Y/N. What do you hope to get from me?"

You frown, taking one hand out of your pocket to gesture a little. "You have a suspicious nature, Miss Maximoff."

She snorts softly." Y/N..."

But you smile, and Wanda gasps softly because your hand moves to her face, a gentle touch to move a strand of hair out of the way of her eyes. "Not everyone wants to take something from you, Miss. Some people just want to give." Wanda ignores the intensity of your gaze, the quickening of her heartbeat, and raises her hand to grab your wrist and interrupt your intention to stroke her cheek straight away. Her eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion in your direction, although your smile never falters. "I could just force you to talk."

"There's no need for that, we can talk over dinner."

She hesitates, aware of the heat on her cheeks. You seem to have a personal victory and Wanda lets go of your hand immediately. 

"Wipe that smile off your face, it's not... that kind of dinner. We don't even know each other." She mutters embarrassedly. You return to your previous position, relaxed with your hands in the pockets of your dress pants and Wanda crosses her arms annoyed at the way her stupid brain keeps finding you more attractive every time she looks at you. 

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, miss." You retort humorously. "It's a strictly professional dinner."

She rolls her eyes, turning away to hide her smile from you.

"Just introduce me to the rest of the house."

"It's funny, all witches are always bossy." You comment, letting her gently pat your shoulder even though you could easily escape the gesture if you wanted to.

-&-

"I didn't know vampires cooked."

You chuckle, without taking your eyes off the knife cutting the vegetables. "Have you met many vampires?"

Wanda bites back a smile, rolling her eyes softly. "No, you're the first." She says, watching from the counter stool as you masterfully prepare dinner. "But I thought you guys didn't need to eat."

"We don't, not food at least." You retort gently, even though the implication makes Wanda's eyes sparkle with curiosity. You, despite being busy preparing the meal, notice the slight excitement and give a soft laugh. "If wished, my body can imitate all the biological functions it had before I died. This includes food." To illustrate, you take one of the cut pieces of carrot into your mouth, chewing and swallowing as you finish chopping the vegetables. Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, gathering the courage to ask you what she wishes to know.

When you pour the cut vegetables into a pot, she clears her throat. "Would it be insensitive if I asked how it happened?"

"Very." You smile back. Wanda sighs slightly, feeling like a little child trying to be liked. 

Please, please, notice me and talk to me.

The fire is lit, you wash off the excess vegetable stock and wipe your hands on a tea towel. You speak again.

"It's 2024, which means that in the winter it will be 320 years since my transformation." You begin a little nostalgically, your hands resting on the counter behind you. "Twenty was the age at which I died."

Wanda frowns. "You were so young."

"Yes, I was." You agree with a sad smile. "I used to work here, right in this mansion." Wanda adjusts herself, curiosity taking over completely. "I was raised by this family all my life, and when I fell ill, they decided there was no longer any place for me here."

The witch swallows dryly but doesn't interrupt your story. You look down, bringing your hands in front of your stomach to turn the larger ring you're wearing between your fingers.

"Sick servants would be sent away, so as not to spread the disease to the rest of the house. I died on the road."

Wanda frowns slightly. "Who bit you?"

"Bit me?" You retort in confusion. 

She chuckles awkwardly. "Yes, that's how it works, isn't it? Vampires bite humans and turn them."

It's your turn to laugh, a little impressed. "What? No, by the gods! Imagine how many of us there would be out there if every time a vampire fed, he turned someone? No, no, it's a bit more complicated." You comment casually. "You see, there's an immortality spell, created by the same author of the book that was with you when we met. Original vampires are made by ancient magic, and these can have bloodlines. Weaker vampires are transformed by their blood. And others can be created, even weaker by their descendants. The trick is to die with magical blood in your system so that your soul will be trapped by the magic and will not leave your body. It is then reanimated a few hours after we die. To complete the transformation, we must feed."

She absorbs your words for a moment. Until she finally asks: "Who transformed you?"

You lick your lips, shifting your eyes to the pot as if to confirm the cooking time, before turning away from the counter. "Come with me, I want to show you something."

She follows you around the mansion, way past the kitchen to another level. The entrance hall extends into a long corridor with many old paintings. Finally silver doors at the end.

"This is the main suite of the mansion." You clarify, fiddling with a bunch of keys kept in your pocket until now. Apparently, the only locked room was that one. "It's been adapted, moved from the upper floor to here on the lower level since, at the end of her life, the owner couldn't take the stairs."

Once unlocked, you push the doors open with both hands, exposing the immense royal suite inside. Wanda thinks it looks a lot like fantasy books and is busy admiring the decorations when she comes across a painting on the wall that knocks the air out of her lungs.

"What...?" She approached with uncertain steps until she was touching the painting with her fingers, groping for the drawing of a face that could easily be mistaken for her own. "How is that possible?" She demanded to know, turning to you.

You were still standing in the doorway, your hands in your pockets. "This is your ancestor."

"And why the hell does she have my face?"

"Heritage?" You retort good-humoredly, but Wanda snorts incredulously, advancing towards you angrily. You quickly raise your hands in surrender, a nervous laugh escaping as you see the fury in her eyes. “I’m joking, dear lord! I didn't mean to upset you. Let me tell you the whole story!."

"It better be a very good one." She retorts, watching you intently as if expecting a kidnap attempt.

You sigh, nodding before turning your face to the photo. "Her name was Elizabeth. She's gone if that's not obvious. This painting was done over four centuries years ago when your family was still known as the Maksymovs. They lived well, your ancestors, as you can see from the amount of gold in this manor. But sorcery and witchcraft were never very well-liked anywhere, and just like the rest of us, your family was hunted down." You say, stepping aside to open the curtains and light up the room. Still, on your back, you continued to talk. "I was just a little girl when Lady Maksymov took me in, Elizabeth’s mother. I cleaned and cooked, and I was lucky enough to be allowed inside the mansion. To share the room with the family. All due respect to their memories, but my Lady was not a decent person. She was cruel and harsh and preferred to die on the mountain of money than give a little to the children she watched depart for this place. I stayed here because I had no other choice in life, and when the neighbors began to question what she was doing in the basement, she was taken away just like her children.  And unlike her mother or any of her siblings, Elizabeth was not a very talented witch. Her magic was dormant. That poor woman, always so sad under the cruelties shouted at her by her relatives. She could never master chaos but it got better when she gave in to the darkhold's allure. Unfortunately for the servants, her gentle personality was gone once her magic control was improved. I remember her dark fingers chastising me every time I failed to fold the sheets correctly."

Wanda swallowed at the anger hidden. Your posture was enough for her to believe your words.

“Why did she turn you?”

You smile sadly. "I was just a means to an end." You reply. "Elizabeth was what they called a Siphoner. Although descended from a powerful witch lineage, she couldn't generate her own magic. She could only steal it from elsewhere, either from a magic book or from a vampire." 

Wanda sighs as she understands, and you chuckle in upset. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You weren't even close to existing back then."

She moves closer. "Still, on behalf of my family, I'm sorry." The witch says as gently as she can. "I can hardly imagine how painful that probably was."

You shrug, trying to be casual. "That was a long time ago, Miss Maximoff." You mumble before sighing. "And it didn't work out the way she wanted either. Elizabeth didn't intend to use me as her magical reservoir for so long. She wanted me to transform her. Make her a heretic, a vampire-witch hybrid so that she could steal magic from her own nature. And like a good servant, I did just that."

Wanda could feel the force of your painful memories with her telekinesis, flashes of vivid images in your mind begging to be relieved. A personal torture. 

"Let me guess, that was the rule you broke that put you in that tomb."

You lower your head, looking very upset all of a sudden. "No, Miss Maximoff. I was loyal until I wasn't anymore." Wanda frowns in confusion, but you sigh and stare at your own reflection in the window. "The abuse of the Darkhold destroyed Lady Elizabeth. Not even the spell of immortality could heal her, remove the rot from her soul. We traveled the world, searching for potions and creatures and anything we could find to help her, but I knew that the slaughter she was doing in the name of her own health had to be stopped. When our last trip ended, I told her I wouldn't help her anymore."

Wanda can see clearly now; the wrathful recollections of a witchy lady with an almost demonic appearance. The hold of the Darkhold on Elizabeth's soul. How you're only trying to defend yourself when you strike back.

You sniffle, turning your face away, and Wanda blocks your memories from her mind immediately.

"No greater dishonor than ingratitude." You mutter. "I shouldn't have turned my back on Elizabeth. She died alone in this empty mansion, taken by her illness. I returned to a rotten land wracked by dark magic. I restored every stone and raised the mansion to its original state. I lived as a vampire for a decade before I was captured. Elizabeth, in her last vengeful act, left a letter denouncing all her family's crimes to the magical authorities of the time. A lineage who survived the witch-hunts, chased by their own kind like animals. I wore the same coat of arms and slept in the family mansion, so they didn't care that my surname wasn't the same. But I wasn't a witch to die, and the darkhold refused to show the executors exactly how to kill me. The solution was a prison."

You're surprised that Wanda reaches for your hand, but you don't pull away. She also gives you a small smile.

"Three hundred years is too long to punish someone who had no choice." She says, the gesture of her thumb caressing your palm making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Definitely too long without touching someone was messing with your head. Little did you know, Wanda was going through something quite similar. Starved for physical touch. "Is that why you're being so generous? Do you think you owe this family a debt?" You swallow, nodding, and Wanda sighs. " Sweetheart..."

"Please let me serve you." Your tone is almost desperate, Wanda shakes her head. "Please-"

"This isn't the 1700s, Y/N. I won't be your lady." She assures you, her grip tighter. "You're a person, not a property."

"I'd be dead if it weren't for Elizabeth-"

"She was cruel and selfish, and she used you to your last breath. And beyond!" Wanda interrupts, not losing her composure when you huff impatiently and pull your hand away. "You can grumble all you want. I'm not going to honor the memory of some slave owner, family or not. You're free to go."

"But I don't want to leave, Wanda." You snap, almost pleading. "This is my home. Serving your family has always been... my purpose. Turning my back on it made me lose everything. And then you saved me, and for a second, I thought I could see Elizabeth again. I ran to this place, and I realized how much time had actually gone by." You sniffle, your hands going to Wanda's shoulders. "Please. Caring is the only thing I know how to do right."

Wanda sighs, her hands finding your wrists. "This isn't caring, Y/N, this is servitude. I would never ask this of you." Your expression falls as if you're being rejected. Wanda stops your hands from moving away. "But I could use a friend."

Your face lights up, and Wanda smiles too because she thinks you look so beautiful now. "Oh, that... is really very sweet. I'd be honored."

The witch chuckles. "You're adorable. Come, our lunch should be ready soon." She doesn't mention that you two walk into the kitchen hand in hand, and you don't mind, so you don't say anything either.

-&-

"I can't believe you don't know what McDonald's is."

"And I can't believe you've never been to the Opera, but here we are."

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief at your response. You're sitting on the living room floor, or rather on cushions on the carpet because you refused to sit so informally and she was still working on getting you to relax into the casual way of living life in that century. 

Weeks into a roommate routine, your activities consisted of having meals together and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. You'd spent 300 years imprisoned, and Wanda had a multitude of things to introduce you to, while you'd been raised by the ancient witch family of the ancestors of a woman who knew little about her origins. You had as much to tell as she did.

Most days when you two would leave the Mansion, you would experience things that you had never experienced before. Restaurants, food trucks, and even the invention of cars or electricity. The Mansion needed to be restored too, but Wanda was happy to know that it hadn't been abandoned.

It was magically hidden, and she had distant cousins from very old marriages in her distant line. It was one of the best pieces of news she'd ever received - to know that she wasn't the only Maximoff left.

The Manor had been cared for over the centuries by escape witches, some of whom, like Elizabeth, had their powers dormant and lived normal lives under that roof. Until the place was finally inherited by her great-aunt, Tatiana, who was living in New Orleans, and Wanda would visit once the work on the mansion was finished.

She had no idea where you got the money for a whole restoration team, and you laughed when she asked, offering as an answer only the information that vampires can persuade people.

That's how you ended up on the living room floor, finishing gathering old belongings that needed to be protected from the paint restoration and set-up of that chamber.

"It's nice that some things have been preserved so well." She comments, stealing a quick glance at your figure distracted by sorting letters. You look good in this century's clothes that Wanda helped you pick out. The barely buttoned plaid shirt makes Wanda hold her breath every time she catches herself letting her gaze fall to your collarbone. 

"Rich families often treasure stuff." You retort with an easy smile. You stack a few letters before opening the next box of items and gasp slightly when you find something very valuable inside. "Look, I think you'll want to keep this."

The small item is placed in her palm: A gold button with an "M" engraved on it. The family crest. Wanda doesn't know why, but it makes her eyes water, and she gives you a tearful smile as she thanks you.

But despite this balanced relationship and pleasant routine, there was still the elephant in the room.

Every evening, you went out to feed yourself. For almost two months, Wanda didn't ask any questions. Even though she was dying to know exactly how, or even who.

But she didn't want to be invasive or even sound like someone obsessed with your fangs.

She would wait for some casual moment to bring up the subject. Perhaps at the next dinner party, with a joke, and then she would ask if you could show her how it was done.

Luckily for her, another witch was even more interested in the story.

Tatiana was an expert enchantress. She lived in an apartment in the heart of New Orleans and had a very busy pub, and to no surprise, frequented mainly by mystical beings. It was Wanda's first time in a place of that kind.

She was so excited to meet another member of her family that she almost forgot her last worries. It was her aunt, in between many colorful drinks after an afternoon of introduction, who brought up the subject again.

"So tell me, sweetie, all this work to restore the Maximoff household. It must be exhausting even for a vampire." Tatiana began with a smile. Her curly hair fell in waves down her back, and for the third time that night, Wanda noticed that green eyes were probably the only physical feature that most of the Maximoff women shared. Her aunt has a dangerous smirk on her lips as she looks in your direction, and Wanda swallows dryly as she realizes that it's the flirtatious kind. "We allow feeding in these parts."

You're taken aback. You chuckle awkwardly, aware of the two witches' attention in your direction. The crowded bar seems to get even smaller.

"I'm fine, Tatiana, don't worry." Wanda thinks you're lying. You can never maintain eye contact when you do, and she also often finds it charming how a vampire can be so bad at telling lies. "I had some blood before I got here-"

"By Morgana, that was several hours ago!" Tatiana cuts in, gesturing excitedly to the waiters. She was very happy to meet Wanda too and had been drinking since early morning in celebration. "You know, I used to date a vampire back in the last century. He had a restricted diet of animals and always looked pale and hungry. Are you one of those vegetarian vampires too?"

The question is rhetorical, she doesn't even hear your confused mutter "I don't think vegetarianism works like that". She's busy with the waitress, whose irises redden as soon as Tatiana speaks to her. The girl is younger than everyone else there and is clearly bewitched.

"There you go, dear, you can have a taste." Offers the woman, to which you choke in surprise.

"What? H-here? But..."

"Now, don't you act like a good Samaritan, Miss L/N." Tatiana retorts in a provocative tone, resting her chin on one hand. "I know what you got up to before you were imprisoned. Feeding off a waitress is nothing."

You're immediately crestfallen, your face flushing with shame. Wanda looks at her aunt with irritation.

"Don't talk to her like that." The younger witch says sternly. "'She's already received enough of a punishment.

Tatiana chuckles wickedly, tilting her head gently. A very familiar gesture indeed. "Let's get a few things clear, Wanda. The only reason I didn't rip that usurper vampire's head off the moment she set foot in my town was because she brought my niece back to me. The fighting separated our families, I never knew I had nephews. Do you think you would have joined that group of dressed-up Americans if I'd known you were a genuine Maximoff? No, dear, I would have raised you. Restored our coven, taught you magic, as it should have been. As it would have been if this ungrateful little blood-sucker had fulfilled the role she was given. Every spell has a price, and she didn't pay for this one she so boldly displayed for a decade of fortune-raising."

"I regret it very deeply, miss-"

"No, you don't apologize for any of this." Wanda interrupts you with a gentle squeeze on your wrist under the table. With a serious expression, she faces her aunt. "Let's actually get things straight, Auntie. You don't talk to her like that. Ever. You're not going to use something that happened three centuries ago against someone who has spent all this time imprisoned in a tomb, paying for crimes she didn't commit alone. It seems that witches, especially from this family, have a habit of evading accountability. I know that well." Tatiana gives a little smile, clearly aware of Westview, or what came after. Wanda doesn't hesitate. "She's my friend. And she's been through enough. All she's done since she came back is look after me, and I'm not going to accept this kind of treatment from anyone, not even my blood. And considering history, especially my blood."

Without contradicting, Tatiana nods in understanding, busying herself with lighting one of the cigarettes on the corner of the table. The colorful smoke wafted upwards as she finished a long drag.

"As you please, Scarlet Witch." The elder woman finally replies, and you swallow dryly, stealing a glance at Wanda to see if she might lose her temper at the slight challenge in her aunt's tone.

Damn, you'd forgotten how the Maximoffs had a rather dangerously weak ego to offend, especially if challenged.

But luckily for you, Wanda forced a smile, and the tension at the table eased. Tatiana dismissed the waiter with a nod and went back to talking about business in the city as if nothing had happened.

For the rest of the evening, Wanda drew patterns on the palm of your hand under the table.

-&-

Around midnight, when the desserts were finished but the bar seemed livelier than ever, you felt really hungry.

The witches were engaged in animated conversation about the times in Sokovia, how Tatiana missed the opportunity to find out about the Maximoffs after the surname grew more common around the country for a few years before disappearing again, and you used the opportunity to escape for a few moments.

A quick snack, just to satisfy your hunger. After all, you always kept yourself full around Wanda; you'd never forgive yourself if you lost control around her.

You make your way through the crowded bar, taking one last look at the back table before making your way to the exit. You're almost at the door when someone purposely bumps into you.

"Hey, better watch where you're going." Warned the corpulent fellow; he was at least ten centimeters taller and had a strong distinctive smell that caused you an instant anxiety. 

Wolf scent.

"Sorry, I didn't see you." You mumble, ready to bypass him, but he steps in your way again. 

"We don't like strangers around here." He informs you with a small smile, showing off his canine fangs. "You're lucky we have our orders, miss."

You sigh slightly. "Who are you again?"

"The name's Victor Creed, but everyone calls me Sabertooth. You know, because of these little beauties here." He points to his fangs with conviction. "They grow much bigger during the transformation. I once ripped the head of one of your kind with them." The story is clearly told to intimidate you, but your unimpressed expression makes the man clear his throat. "Don't go wandering around, Tatiana can't protect you on the outside."

You force a smile. "I can take care of myself, wolf, don't worry." You move around him to finally leave, but even with his back turned, Sabertooth laughs.

"Alright then, go for a walk while I introduce myself to your little witch. Do you know if the Scarlet Witch is looking for better watchdogs? If she's as stuck-up as the rest of the family, maybe I'll write to Kamar Taj about where she's been hiding."

The thing is, maybe you've spent too much time with the Maximoffs all your life. And your temper is just as bad as theirs.

Victor has barely finished his teasing, and you've already grabbed him by the arm, mashing him into the ground like a lump of flour. The commotion immediately attracts the attention of everyone around, but until the crowd fully identifies what's going on, Victor has already used his wolf-like speed to get to his feet and advance on you.

He's so confident about his own strength that it takes him a whole moment to realize that your fist has already gone through his chest.

"Give me one good reason not to spread your guts on this floor, Mr. Creed." You say with an unwavering expression, your hand clenched around his barely beating heart.

Victor chokes on his own blood, his muscular hands try to push your shoulders back, but you don't move an inch. He grunts in pain.

"I-I take it back." He gasps, but you squeeze a little harder.

"That's not a reason."

The man breaks down in a sob. "P-please. I'm begging you. I wasn't thinking-"

It would be so easy, just to kill him. Rip the heart out of that arrogant wolf and let him drop. You never forgot the feeling, the predatory hunger for blood and violence burning in your veins. Nor Elizabeth's disappointed look every time you ended up covered in blood and it didn't do any good.

Letting go of the heart, and pulling your hand out, you saw Victor's wound heal immediately. A full moon must have been just around the corner for a wolf to heal so quickly.

His release drew your attention to the rest of the pub. All those people, watching the scene with mixed expressions of horror and disbelief on their faces. Some clearly recognized you, others seemed surprised to witness a werewolf of that size being beaten so easily.

Vitor's blood stained the blouse Wanda gifted you, and you swallowed down the urge to vomit.

While you were trying to recover from the interaction, a duo cut through the crowd, and Tatiana's short giggle made you wince.

"Keep her in line, Wanda. We don't make a mess this close to humans in this neighborhood." The witch warns but Wanda is staring at you in complete mesmerization. You shake your wrist gently, letting the excess blood drip onto the floor before you start to move.

The adrenaline of the confrontation has starved you.

-&-

You barely enter the first alley before Wanda catches up with you.

"Where are you going?"

But you don't answer the question, you just keep walking and retort: "Go back inside, I won't be long."

For a moment, you think she'll obey, but how foolish of you. Wanda was probably the most stubborn Maximoff you've ever met.

She almost gives you a heart attack when she appears in your path, making you jump backward.

"What the hell...?"

"You're shutting me out." She declares, frustrated. You swallow dry, shaking your head.

"No, I'm just going for a walk to clear my head. See you at the apartment-"

"Taking a walk is what you're calling it now? I'm not an idiot, I know you're going to feed." Wanda interrupted annoyed, getting in your way and stopping you from fleeing. "Why do you keep trying to hide this part of yourself? I don't care that you're a vampire."

"Wanda, please, just move."

"No."

"Wanda."

She crosses her arms. "I wanna watch." 

You choke, chuckling nervously. "Excuse me?" 

But she doesn't lose her cool, nodding. "I want to watch you feed on someone."

Wanda imagined some reactions to the suggestion: anger, indignation, mockery. She didn't think you'd turn so clumsy, with rosy cheeks and unable to look her in the eye.

"You're a very odd individual." You mumble shyly, and she has to giggle confusedly, losing her serious pose to adjust the collar of your blouse. 

"Pleaseee." She stretches out the word, liking the way a smile breaks across your lips or especially the way you stare at her mouth when she talks like that. "I'll behave. I'll just stay put and watch. I've never seen it happen before. Please, honey? Just once."

You sigh in defeat, and Wanda taps her hands before jumping on your neck, and hugging you excitedly. It's a very difficult struggle to keep your fangs away with her so close.

It doesn't even last half a minute, but it feels like an eternity because you want to feed and everything always moves slower if the vampire focuses on hunger. 

"It's not going to be anything special, I don't want to cause a scene in your aunt's neighborhood." You let her know, thinking you need to talk a bit to push the dizziness away.

Wanda smiles excitedly. "Anything will be great, darling. Come on, I'll be right behind you."

It's easy to find prey in a place like New Orleans. You end up deciding on a restaurant waiter, isolated in one of the alleys. He's a young adult, distracted by chores, and you almost give up because of the smell of garbage so close by. But it's a very good isolated opportunity to waste like this.

Your fangs are already out when there's a noise behind you.

Wanda has bumped into something, loud enough to attract the boy's attention, who is startled by the two figures in the alley. One glimpse of your vampiric appearance and he's stumbling frightened away before starting to run.

You sigh incredulously, and Wanda appears in your field of vision.

"Sorry, it was..." She falls silent, surprised that you haven't gathered your usual looks and absorbing every detail of your face now. From the fangs to the completely darkened eye sclera. When she speaks, her voice is much huskier. "An accident."

"It's okay, it actually tastes better when they're scared." You shrug. "The adrenaline and fear accelerates the heart which pumps fresh blood throughout the body. That's why so many vampires prefer to hunt at night. People are more afraid of the dark than they think."

Wanda chuckles, looking at you in a way that makes you forget about the boy's footsteps becoming too distant to distinguish from the other sounds of the city.

"You're kind of a vampire nerd." 

"I don't know what that word means." You give a confused laugh and Wanda moves closer.

"It means I think you're really cute." She retorts, making you gulp dryly. Her hands find your shoulders, and Wanda gets close enough for you to count her freckles. "And I'm dying to know how these little ones feel, darling. Do they hurt?”

She's too close for you to focus, but you make an effort. "Hm, just a little, when they come out. They usually only bother me when I'm really hungry."

Wanda's fists cross together behind your head, and she's definitely too close for you to think about anything other than her.

"And how hungry are you now?"

"Very, Miss Maximoff." You confess hoarsely. Wanda smiles mischievously, tilting her neck in your direction.

"Well, I think you should have a little taste."

"God, Wanda." Your eyes close on instinct, your face falling forward so that you sink into the gap in her collarbone. Wanda shudders, as affected as you are. Her hands-free themselves so that she can stroke your arm, as a reassurance that everything is all right, and also caress your hair because apparently everything so far hasn't been maddening enough for her.

Every cell of your spirit begs you to sink your fangs into the warm skin in front of you, to drink every drop until Wanda faints against you, but you fight nature itself with her help. Her soft sighs in your ear, assuring you that she trusts you.

"It'll only be a little bit, I promise." You assure her, licking the spot gently and drawing a deep sigh from the other girl. It's the sound you focus on before you take the first bite.

Wanda tenses at the slightest hint of pain, but another sensation takes over elsewhere. Her cheeks burn with the betrayal of her own body, and she finds herself unable to care about the mild pain while she's throbbing between her legs.

Her nails dig into your biceps, and she starts to squirm under you, surrendering to the sensation of your bodies so close together. You hum in satisfaction at the soothing of your hunger, and Wanda drops her hand to your waist.

"Enough, baby." She whispers the request, her nails scratching the hair on the back of your neck. "I'm starting to get dizzy."

You hold on a little tighter, and Wanda softens against your body. Her heart is pounding, and she is aware of her pathetic underwear situation. Your body heaved forward, and Wanda didn't have the strength to resist any pull. She feels her back hit the wall of the alley, and whimpers at the feel of your leg pressed between hers.

She doesn't think she has ever been so at someone's mercy as she is now. She just wants to tell you to help her relieve the pressure between her legs, but every time she tries to call you, what leaves her lips are needy moans.

And you kept feeding and the surroundings began to darken. Wanda only realized that she'd been grinding herself on your thigh all this time because her climax approached at high speed, and falling off the edge brought a momentary recovery of consciousness.

"Oh, God, detka!" She meows, spilling herself on your thigh. Her body spasms softly, and you tense up, stopping your feeding immediately. Wanda falls limp in your arms, trying to fuck herself stupidly even after the orgasm she's just achieved. Your arms are the only support keeping her upright. "Do that again."

You shake your head, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. "No, I took more than I should have." You retort softly, and Wanda has to blink a few times to realize that your appearance has returned to normal. "What a terrible idea that was, Wanda. So dangerous… I was starving."

She gives you a dreamy little smile. "How do I taste?"

"The best I've ever had." You assure her before adjusting her to hold her in your arms just in time for Wanda to lose consciousness.

She dreams of the same feeling of being carried but in a place much colder than New Orleans.

-&-

She wakes up just in time to see you putting her to bed, all the way to the borrowed room in her aunt's empty apartment.

Wanda grabs your wrist before you can pull away after putting the covers over her.

"Hey." Your voice and gaze are so sweet that she almost forgets everything that has happened so far. But Wanda actually remembers very well, and the lingering sensation of your body against hers makes her shiver. 

"Hey... sorry for blacking out on you." She murmurs, her free hand coming up to your face. You bite your lip, still hovering over her body and uncertain what you should do next. Should you pull away? Lean in and kiss Wanda like you've been dreaming of doing for weeks? She seems to be able to see all the hesitation in your eyes, and offers a reassuring smile, her hand caressing your cheek. "What's wrong?"

Wanda is definitely teasing you, but you don't mind, smiling too as you steady your hands next to her body on the mattress, face to face, the two of you waiting for the other to make a move first until the tension is almost unbearable. But you also remember what brought you there, and let out a small sigh.

"You shouldn't have baited me like that, Wanda. It's dangerous, I could have... lost control."

Her expression becomes almost mischievous, a smile threatening to break out on her lips. "I've survived much worse, darling."

You sigh in frustration. "Wanda..."

"It's the truth." She chuckles even though you move away to sit down properly. Wanda also mimics the gesture, looking for your hand on the bed so that you stop grimacing and look at her. "Hey, come on, don't be upset."

"I'm not."

"Then why the pout?" She leans in, kissing your cheek and you snort away, unable to stay angry with this adorably charming witch. "You have to trust me, sweetheart." She whispers, kissing your jaw. You sigh, squeezing her hand gently.

"I trust you with my life, Wanda." You let her know in the same tone, intertwining your fingers in her lap. Wanda smiles against your skin, chaste kisses trailing from your jaw to your collarbone. "I'm just scared... that one day, I'll lose control and hurt you. I'd never forgive myself."

She pulls away a little to look you in the eye. "I meant it what I said before." Starts the witch. "I've been through much worse. You weren't there to see... what I did to reach that little girl. You don't have to worry about hurting me, because it doesn't matter, I'll always heal." With your hesitation, she pulls further away to push the collar of her shirt aside and let you see the place where you fed on her a few minutes ago. "Look, it's gone. You have to trust me, darling. I know that the idea of anyone being stronger than an original is hard for you to accept, but believe me, I'll be fine. I'll always be fine, even if you are starving and out of your mind."

You grimace, adjusting yourself so that you can hold her by the waist and place her on your lap. "Just because you're going to heal doesn't mean I can hurt you. You deserve kindness, Wanda. I can give you my best." Your mouth meets hers, it's not a hungry kiss but it's a hot one and it takes Wanda out of her orbit. It's been a while since the last time, and well, it's never really been like this. She struggles a little to find her rhythm, for a short moment just panting against your experienced tongue, until she finally responds in an equally passionate way that makes you sigh and press your body to hers. 

Wanda likes the sound. Wanda likes you.

"Can I take off your shirt?" Your request comes between one kiss and another, she hardly answers because her mind is clouded with arousal, and if she could be honest, she would have been out of her clothes a long time ago. 

"Yes, please." She gasps back, anxious hands tracing your back. Wanda is restless under your touch, shy about your gaze once the clothes come off. But you do everything with an unbearable slowness that leaves her squeezing her thighs together in search of relief. 

She had sex before - For the first time in a war-torn adolescence, an experience that was forgettable and almost regretted. And then with a machine man who could pretend but never had the biological need to do so. 

This moment right now was like no other, being with someone who worshipped her body, who was as breathless as she was, who reacted to her touch and was practically at her mercy when she touched the right spot.

And Wanda finds that she loves it. Having you touch her and touch you back, and feeling your fangs scratch her skin every time she thrusts her hips into yours.

Pinned against the bed, naked as you are, your legs entwined together like your bodies. Sighs of pleasure mingle with the dance of your hips, and Wanda digs her nails into your back as your fangs press into her collarbone. 

You drink less than last time, but her legs still tingle. Or maybe it's the orgasm hitting her hard.

This is different from the first - the whole bed vibrates with the wave of magic that escapes the witch with her back arched. You hold Wanda, even though you're also shaking with the force of your own climax. She initiates the next kiss this time, moaning into your tongue as she spins your bodies around with ease. Your hands entwine together at the top of your head, but Wanda lets go, lowering herself and getting a confused sigh from you.

"What are you up to, little witch?"

Then it occurs to her with your expression that you are four centuries old and have spent much of this time as a prisoner and that perhaps you haven't been so confident because Wanda is your first lover.

She looks back up, sitting on your hips, breathing out of rhythm but now with a new excitement shining in her eyes.

"Babe, be honest... have you ever been with a woman before?"

Your face gains a deep color, and you turn your gaze away. Wanda falls hard, even if it doesn't occur to her yet.

She giggles softly and you're even more embarrassed, but she doesn't let you move away, her firm legs holding you in place.

"Don't make fun of me." You mutter, and Wanda snorts softly.

"Never." She assures you, even though she already has a new dozen antics memorized. Her mouth kisses your jaw and goes down like her body. The color in your cheeks is for another reason soon. "I love being your first. I want to make you feel good."

You hesitate to hold her when she's stimulating you, worried about losing control of your own strength. The sheets are destroyed when Wanda flicks her tongue over your breasts, smiling with delight at the sight of you squirming.

She goes lower and you gasp for air. "What... are you doing?" You ask mortified. It's not the 1700s anymore, you have to remember. Female pleasure is, well, taken into account. Wanda bites the inside of your thighs, watching the muscles twitch for a moment.

"You'll love it, I promise." It's the only thing she says before diving in, her hot mouth pulling all the air from your lungs. It's the most wonderful thing you've ever felt. Wanda's tongue works on your most intimate part, teasing your entrance before she starts to eat you out hungrily. You grip the headboard, your eyes closed tightly. Wanda holds your legs open, and the knot in your stomach starts to become impossible to contain. 

The witch seems to like it too. She moans for your taste on her tongue, and the new vibration pushes you over the edge. Wanda holds your spasming body without difficulty, you think she uses magic for that. And still calming down, it takes you a whole moment to stop seeing stars.

Wanda licks up every drop of your pleasure, moaning softly before meeting your gaze again. You can't hold it, and end up covering your reddened face with your arm while ignoring the smug giggle of the witch who begins to climb your body again.

"Don't be shy... you look so pretty when you moan my name." She praises you provocatively, and you can't help but smile, feeling completely relaxed. Wanda waits for you to look at her again, her arms resting on your shoulder so that she can look at you closely. "Hi."

Your hand finds her cheek. " Hi, yourself." She leans into your touch, her smile filling your chest with warm happiness. Wanda sighs.

"Can we stay like this? Just for a moment." She asks quietly, and something in her gaze tells her that the question isn't just for today. Wanda wants to know if you can be with her.

You would. Forever if she wished. "Of course, little witch. For as long as you want."

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