So basically I’m really bored and should be studying but who wants to do that so by request is
After tony and reader get into an argument they enter a Cold War and Tony is losing terrible. This is his first time not getting the attention he wants especially from reader
And after the disrespect that he got from reader the other day was his last straw. He confronts her they argue again then eventually smut
Thank you for at least taking your time to read this and I love your fics ❤️✨
✨Toxic!Ex! Tony Stark x Fem!Ex! Reader✨
Author's Note: Hi Nonnie!! I'm so sorry this took like a month, shit really got crazy with work and personal life hehe. I hope you did well in your tests! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my smutty ramblings!
Trigger Warnings: SMUT DELICIOUS SMUT | P in V | Fingering | Tony is just an ass | Public indecency |
Since the day you found each other at that underground bar—or more accurately, the night he aggressively tracked you down—you had been seeing each other occasionally.
After that first explosive night, you had sworn up and down to yourself that you wouldn't let it happen again. Yet, that had been a blatant lie. It had been about two months now of this dangerous routine: he would call late at night, and within thirty minutes, you would show up at his penthouse, or he would be knocking on your door.
And for a while, that arrangement was fine. You were having the absolute best sex of your life without getting too caught up in the chaotic, messy reality of each other's actual lives.
In fact, it had been a long time since you and Tony had gotten into a real fight. Maybe the last time you had actually screamed at each other was the night that ultimately broke you apart. It was interesting how fragile egos could be when it came to making logical decisions. But when you mixed-matched pride with a casual arrangement, a detonation was inevitable.
“My answer is final, Tony, gosh.” You snatched your clothes up from the hardwood floor, not bothering to hide your irritation. “What part of that small brain of yours doesn’t understand that I have more important things to do besides fucking my ex? My world doesn’t revolve around you.”
The venom in your voice was a direct response to his non-stop, exhausting begging for you to stay the night. He wanted the intimacy of waking up next to you, but he didn't want the commitment that came with it.
Your words hit his notoriously fragile ego like a freight train, and he instantly reverted to being a defensive asshole. “Then do whatever the fuck you want. I don’t need you anyway,” he snapped, throwing back the sheets and angrily pulling on his briefs.
You let out a sharp, mocking laugh, looking at him with pure disdain. “That’s rich coming from the motherfucker who keeps 'coincidentally' running into me at bars and calling me at three in the morning to come suck his dick because his assistant isn't available.”
Tony flinched, looking as if you had just slapped him across the face. The silence in the bedroom became suffocatingly heavy.
“What the fuck does that even mean?” he whispered in complete disbelief, his jaw clenched as he watched you rapidly pull on your clothes and scan the room for your purse.
“Oh, come on, Tony. You will fuck anything that is attached to a nice pair of legs,” you said, your tone cold and entirely dismissive. You didn't even bother to look at him as you delivered the final blow. “In fact, Pepper is probably just waiting for you to say the word, and she would happily give you some sloppy seconds.”
Tony’s face drained of color, his eyes turning dangerously dark. “Out,” was all he said, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register.
“I was already on my way,” you countered smoothly, slinging your purse over your shoulder and walking out of the penthouse without a single glance back.
After that night, you went for a full week with absolutely no contact at all.
No late-night booty calls. No arrogant texts. Nothing. Nada. Zero. And that silence was utterly killing him.
For the first time in a long time, his girl—the one who would answer his phone calls in the dead of night, the one he could trick into pitying his insomnia just so he could sink into that sweet, familiar pussy—wasn’t even giving him the time of day.
He had completely lost his grip on you.
In fact, he had tried like hell to get your attention over the last seven days; every single one of his calls went straight to voicemail, his texts were left on read, and you had completely ghosted the usual high-end lounges you frequented.
Which brought you to tonight.
The next time you saw him, it was at a massive, glittering charity event in Manhattan. Of course, he would be there. For once, you genuinely wished he had been whisked away into deep space to fight one of those apocalyptic world threats he usually stopped just in time. Yet, here he was. He was standing across the crowded ballroom, looking devastatingly handsome and infuriatingly hot in a perfectly tailored tuxedo.
Like clockwork, the absolute second you walked into his line of sight, his dark eyes locked onto yours. A smug, familiar smile immediately appeared on his lips, that arrogant glint returning to his eyes as if he’d just won a prize.
You rolled your eyes thoroughly, turning away from his gaze to grab a fresh champagne flute from a server passing by. You took a long, slow sip of the cold alcohol, staring out at the elite crowd and bracing yourself.
This was going to be an incredibly long night.
And because it was going to be an incredibly long night, you decided to anchor yourself to the bar. It was the only place in the entire glittering ballroom that offered a steady stream of alcohol to numb the impending headache.
Which, in hindsight, was probably the absolute worst idea you could have had, because being a gorgeous woman standing alone at a high-end bar meant attracting all sorts of unwanted, exhausting attention. Within ten minutes, a persistent guy in an expensive suit had cornered you, completely blind to the sharp, icy monosyllables you were throwing his way in an effort to get him to back off.
“Sweetheart, here you are.”
Tony’s gravelly voice suddenly cut through the drone of the stranger's voice. Before you could even blink, his heavy arm wrapped securely around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. He had been watching from across the room, his possessive temper flaring the exact second he noticed the guy trying to slide into your space. Under any other circumstance, you would have bitten Tony's head off for interrupting, but right now? He was exactly the shield you needed.
“Tony! God, took you long enough,” you said, pitching your voice into the most obnoxiously love-struck, codependent tone you could muster. To emphasize the performance, you let your body completely melt against his touch, leaning into the expensive scent of his cologne.
Tony’s jaw clenched, instantly taking advantage of the situation to make sure this guy—and anyone else watching—knew exactly who you belonged to. He didn't just claim you verbally; his mouth crashed down onto yours in a frantic, deeply possessive kiss. His hand slid down the fabric of your gown, his fingers gripping and squeezing your ass tightly enough to force a breathless, needy moan right into his mouth.
The stranger instantly withered, suddenly looking down at his shiny dress shoes as if they were the most fascinating thing in the entire room.
Tony broke the kiss just an inch, his dark eyes fixed on the retreating man with a cold, predatory satisfaction. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve gotta go take care of my girl,” he murmured smoothly to no one in particular.
Without giving you a second to recover your thoughts, his hand gripped your wrist, pulling you through the crowd with an unyielding urgency. He bypassed the main ballroom, shoving you through the very first nondescript door he could find—which turned out to be a dark, empty executive office.
The heavy mahogany door slammed shut behind you, the lock clicking into place. Before the sound could even fade, Tony had you completely cornered against the wood, his massive frame crowding you until you were pinned under his shadow.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you gasped out, your heart hammering against your ribs as your stubborn pride tried to make a frantic comeback.
“I think I did,” Tony countered, his voice dropping into that dark, gravelly register that always made your knees weak. A dangerous, triumphant smirk pulled at his lips as he looked down at your flushed face. “Because now I know you missed me just as much as I missed you.”
To prove his point, his large hand slid right through the daring side slit of your evening dress, his warm palm searing against the bare skin of your thigh. He dragged his hand upward, his fingers tracing a slow, agonizing path until they slipped under the hem of your lacy underwear, pressing right into your core.
“And don’t even try to deny it,” he whispered against your lips, his fingers instantly coming away slick and glistening. “You’re dripping wet for me already.”
You stared up at him through the shadows of the office, your voice entirely trapped in your throat as you helplessly bit your lip, completely undone by the touch you had spent a week trying to forget.
“Make me yours, Tony,” you pleaded, all of your stubborn pride completely evaporating in the dark room.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’ve never stopped being mine,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low, gravelly vibration.
He didn't waste another second. Tony dipped his head, leaving a frantic trail of hot, bruising kisses down the sensitive line of your neck, his jaw scratching against you just enough to make you shiver. All the while, his hand remained buried between your thighs, his fingers masterfully playing with your hypersensitive clit, deliberately spreading your slickness up and down your aching slit until you were practically begging.
“Sweetest pussy I’ve ever had,” he growled, pulling his hand away just to slip his glistening fingers into his own mouth, savoring your juices while his dark eyes locked onto your flushed reflection in the dark window pane.
“Tony—” You groaned his name, your hips instinctively arching back to look for that lost contact, but he caught you by the waist, smoothly turning you around so your front slammed against the cool wood of the door, your back pressed flush against his broad chest.
“Be a good girl and spread wide for me, yeah?” he commanded, his hot breath ghosting over your ear.
You didn't even hesitate. You gripped the edge of a nearby mahogany desk to steady yourself, widening your stance just as he ordered. Behind you, you heard the sharp, agonizingly hot sound of his zipper sliding down as his hands moved with an unyielding urgency to undo his pants, the heavy weight of his rigid length pressing hard against your lower back.
“You have no idea how damn bad I’ve been wanting you,” he said lowly in your ear, his voice rough and heavy with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
And once again, any shred of your self-control and rationality was long gone. The fancy charity gala, the elite crowd just outside the door, your week of stubborn silence—it all melted into background noise, completely overridden by the desperate ache he was building up inside you.
“Tell me, did this little stubborn cunt miss me as much as I missed her?” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips with a bruising force as he rubbed his thick, rigid cock all over your drenched entrance. He smeared your slickness up and down, teasing the sensitive skin without giving you an inch of penetration.
The torture was too much. You rolled your hips back, pushing your ass firmly against him in a desperate attempt to get more than just the agonizing friction of his skin against yours.
Tony let out a low, dark laugh, thoroughly enjoying the sheer desperation radiating off your body. His massive frame hovered completely over you, crowding you tightly against the mahogany door. He reached around, his large hand cupping your jaw and tilting your head back, forcing you to look at his reflection in the dark, mirrored surface of the window pane.
His eyes were burning with a fierce, territorial triumph. “Be a good girl and use your words, sweetheart,” he demanded, his thumb pressing into your lower lip. “Tell me exactly what you want.”
“You, Tony. I want you,” you breathed out, your voice breaking with a raw honesty that you could no longer fight.
“That wasn’t too hard, was it?” he murmured mockingly, a dark, triumphant smirk pulling at his lips. You were already opening your mouth, ready to deliver a sharp, cutting sass to bring his massive ego down a notch, but the words were violently stolen from your throat as he entered you all at once.
He slammed his hips forward, burying his thick length into your tight, drenched core to the hilt.
Choked moans and jagged, desperate breaths were all that could be heard in the quiet office. Tony fucked you relentlessly against the mahogany door, his movements heavy, fast, and beautifully brutal. He didn't care in the slightest that you were at a high-profile charity event, or that there were probably elite guests walking the hallway outside, capable of hearing every single nasty, wet noise echoing from the room. The friction was blinding, every deep thrust rubbing perfectly against your sweet spot until your knees started to buckle.
“Tony, I’m—I’m close,” you gasped out, your fingers clawing at the desk as the familiar, coiling heat in your lower stomach threatened to snap.
“Cum for me, sweetheart. Let me fill you up,” he growled against your neck, his pace turning frantic, his chest hitting your back with a heavy, rhythmic force.
A couple more deep, punishing thrusts, and you both completely broke. A violent, shattering orgasm ripped through your body, your walls clamping down impossibly tight around him. Tony let out a loud, undone groan, locking his hips flush against yours as he came deep inside you, his entire body shuddering with the force of his release.
For a long moment, the only sound was the heavy rise and fall of your chests. Slowly, you both regained your breath, stepping apart to meticulously fix your clothes and smooth down your ruined evening wear.
“I’m sorry for what I said,” you murmured quietly, the silence of the room making the confession feel heavy. You were looking away, your pride still stinging, but you knew you had gone too far with the comments from the other day.
“That’s a first,” Tony said, his voice laced with genuine surprise as he looked at you, his eyebrows raising.
You rolled your eyes thoroughly at his dramatic reaction. “Fuck you, Stark,” you snapped, throwing your hand up and flipping him off without missing a beat.
Tony smirked, stepping right back into your space with that familiar, devastatingly handsome confidence. He caught your hand, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, and slowly brought your middle finger to his lips, sucking on it deliberately while his dark eyes locked onto yours with a wicked promise.
“Oh, honey, I plan on doing so.”
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