#tonystark

You could hear the soft hum of the room’s ambient systems, the low mechanical whirrs, the faint electric pulse of tech running in standby, and underneath it all, Tony’s voice. He hummed absently as he moved around you, flicking through translucent holoscreens that floated in the air, readable only to him. Light glinted off his arc reactor through the thin black shirt he wore, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, veins flexing with every subtle flick of his fingers.

He looked like a scientist. Or a surgeon. No, a goddamn artist.

“You look tense,” he murmured, stepping in close, his fingers grazing your jaw with a feather-light touch. “That won’t do. We need to get a clean read. No clenched teeth, no locked jaws. Just you- open and…relaxed.”

He held up a sleek piece of tech. A mix of leather and metal. To you it looked like a ball gag. That wasn’t just a gag. It was his gag. Something custom. Personal. Laced with Stark Industry Tech.

“Open up, baby. Gotta install the biometric reader. It’s not science without a baseline.”

You hesitated, lips twitching. Just for a second. But he didn’t push. He just waited you out, smirk deepening, one brow arched like he had all the time in the world. That cocky, knowing gaze made you squirm even before anything touched you. Your breath hitched. And then you parted your lips.

“There we go,” he said, tone thick with approval as he slid the gag into place. It clicked against your teeth, snug and firm. A soft vibration flickered across your tongue as it locked in pushing the muscle down.

Friday’s voice chimed in overhead, calm and clinical.

“Gag calibration complete. Biometric sync active. Tracking vocal response, saliva levels, and tongue pressure.”

Tony leaned down, brushing his lips across your cheek in a whisper of a kiss. “Good girl. Now let’s get to work.”

He started with the egg.

Sleek. Silver. Pulsing faintly in his hand like it had a heartbeat of its own. The metal shimmered under the clinical lights, smooth and polished, shaped with the kind of precision that only Stark could deliver. He turned it over once, twice, like he was admiring a prized gadget- one that he was particularly proud of.

He showed it to you like a doctor unveiling a revolutionary new tool- calm, confident, deeply amused. Except this wasn’t a sterile exam room, and the look in his eyes wasn’t professional. His smirk told you he already knew what kind of mess this thing would reduce you to.

"This is your warm-up," he said, voice low and playful. "Phase One. Internal warming protocol. Testing receptivity. Calibration through heat and pulse response."

You whimpered into the gag. Of course you were excited- he’d been teasing you with this little 'demonstration' all week. Whispering promises in your ear, tapping out reminders on your thigh, dropping technical jargon laced with filth that left your core throbbing before he’d even touched you. Now that it was finally happening, your whole body was buzzing with need.

He didn't wait. He moved closer, one gloved hand parting your thighs a little further, the other settling between them. The bench adjusted beneath you, lifting your hips another inch to meet his touch perfectly. His fingers dipped between your folds- testing your wetness, teasing you just enough to make your body jerk in its bonds.

"Already responsive," he muttered, half to himself, half to Friday. "She’s going to be a dream to log."

He slid the egg in with two fingers, slow and deliberate. The cool metal kissed your entrance, making you flinch slightly- it was colder than you expected, stark contrast against your heated skin. Your walls instinctively tried to resist, clenching down, but his fingers were patient, coaxing you open, parting you around the sleek, unyielding toy.

The egg slid upward, heavy and smooth. As it moved deeper, your body yielded to it, the slow stretch making your breath catch. Its contours were designed to press into every sensitive spot, and you could feel your muscles fluttering around it, trying to accommodate the sudden fullness. As he pushed it deeper, you could feel every inch of it being swallowed by your body, your slick muscles tightening, fluttering around the intrusion.

He pushed the egg up high inside you, then paused, his finger still inside you too. "Squeeze for me," he ordered. You did, instinctively, your walls closing down as you used your pelvic floor, and Tony gave the platic string attached a soft tug.

The stretch, the resistance- it was delicious. The egg stayed locked in place. You couldn’t push it out if you tried. He smiled, clearly pleased.

"Perfect. Secure fit," he murmured. "Wouldn’t want it popping out mid-test."

It settled deep inside you, a sinful throb blooming in your core. Then it pulsed- just once, a quick flutter that made you jolt.

"There we go," he breathed, watching the screen light up with new data. "Didn’t even turn it on yet and she’s already going. Fuck, I love this job."

You were barely processing the first toy when he reached for the second.

Beads. Tapered, growing in size, each one gleamed under the soft blue lighting like tiny pieces of futuristic art. You squirmed, thighs pressing together, but it was no use- Stark had seen your reaction.

Tony laughed- low and delighted.

"Didn’t know we were going there, huh?" He nudged your knees apart again, voice dipping to a darker octave. "Come on, baby. I want you to open up for me. Let’s see what this one does..."

You shook your head slightly. Whimpered into the gag. Wide eyes watching him as you tried to protest around the ball gag in your mouth. 

Tony turned to the tray beside him, selecting a small, frost-blue tube of gel. "Wouldn't be very considerate to skip prep," he muttered, more to himself than to you. He uncapped the tube and squeezed a slow, deliberate line of the slick, glistening substance along the length of the beads. The gel shimmered faintly under the light, warming as it reacted with the ambient temperature.

He coated each bead carefully, fingers moving with methodical ease, making sure the entire string was evenly slicked. "Lubricated. Body-safe. Custom formula," he said with a wink. "Slippery enough to slide in smooth- sticky enough to stay in place until I say otherwise."

Then he held the beads up for you to see, the string dangling between his fingers. You tensed instinctively.

"Oh no. You’re freezing up. Can’t test properly if you don’t behave. Legs. Open."

You didn’t.

Tony tsked, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. Then he grabbed your chin, firm and steady, tilting your head so your eyes locked with his.

"Don't think so much. That’s not what good test subjects do."

Click.

The bench tilted beneath you without warning. Your hips rolled upward, knees falling further apart as the restraints auto-adjusted. You were fully exposed now- helpless. Wide open.

"You know I can override those restraints, right? I built them. Now be a good girl and show me everything."

He dipped his finger back into the gel and brought it to your ass, pressing a cool dollop directly to your tight, puckered entrance. The sudden chill made you flinch, but it was followed by the warm glide of his fingertip as he gently teased the gel in slow circles.

"You tense here, too," he said, amused. "Don't worry. This formula warms up just like you do."

He rubbed it in carefully, working the gel into your rim with delicate, coaxing pressure. The sensation tingled- both from the temperature shift and the way his finger circled and pressed until your body finally began to relent.

Then he lowered the beads between your cheeks and began to press them in- one at a time. The first slid in easily, the gel working its magic, cool and slick. The second made your breath stutter. The third had your whole body tensing as your hole stretched just enough to accommodate the new pressure.

Each one pulled a different, desperate noise from you- somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, caught in the back of your throat and forced through the gag in broken fragments.

By the time the third bead settled inside you, you felt full. Stretched in ways that left you panting, your back arching hard off the bench. Everything was working together- the deep pressure of the egg nestled high in your core, the hum beginning to buzz through your clit like a phantom, and now the slow, firm intrusion of the beads pressing against nerves that had you seeing stars. You struggled to catch your breath, the gag forcing each inhale to be short and choppy. Air hissed through your nose while your mouth flooded with saliva, spit slipping from the corners of your lips in thick strands that slid down your neck and onto your chest. The overwhelming heat of arousal and frustration tangled in your gut, building like steam with nowhere to escape. The restraint of it made the fire inside you burn hotter.

Your muscles clenched involuntarily, your hips rocking against the air, chasing friction that didn’t come. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t beg. Just drool, tremble, and take everything he gave you.

"Mmm. That moan? That was bead three. She likes that one, Friday."

"Confirmed," the AI replied. "Pelvic floor tension rising. Heart rate increasing."

"Good. Means it’s working."

The egg began to heat. The beads hummed in sync, and you felt everything shift- internally and externally- as pleasure bled into pressure, and pressure into overload. You were trembling now, thighs twitching again, trying to close- but the bench held you wide, utterly exposed.

"Heart rate’s spiking..." Tony’s voice was pure, filthy glee. "Oh, she’s gonna break soon. Look at her squirm."

You rutted against the air, clit untouched and screaming for attention. Your walls fluttered around the egg, your ass clenching down against the beads as the different pulses overlapped and collided. It was all too much and somehow not enough. You needed more and needed it to stop, all at once.

You tried to breathe, but the gag made it impossible to take anything but shallow, panting gasps. Each exhale was laced with a moan. Drool spilled freely down your chin, dripping warm across your face and neck. You were flushed, messy, wrecked- and he hadn’t even touched your clit.

Your back arched violently off the bench, cords of heat coiling through your belly and thighs. It felt like your body was unraveling, muscles tight and desperate, nerve endings screaming with pleasure.

Tony leaned in again, voice dark and syrup-smooth. "We’ve got her plugged, egged, and ready to combust. Think she can handle the next phase?"

Friday answered, "Orgasm build-up at 87%."

"Perfect." He tapped a command into the air. "Now let’s push her."

The egg pulsed deeper. The beads vibrated sharper. You cried out- moaning, writhing, the gag muffling it into raw, incoherent noise. You couldn’t form words. Couldn’t beg. Just sob through the pressure building to a breaking point.

"Baby, this is science. Filthy, beautiful science."

It hit you like a wave- white-hot and all-consuming. Your legs shook violently in the stirrups, muscles spasming as your body locked around the egg and beads pulsing inside you. Every nerve ending fired in chaotic pleasure, overwhelming your senses. You tried to scream, to sob, but the gag reduced it to a shattered, strangled cry that vibrated through the tech, each desperate noise dutifully logged.

Drool spilled in long, wet strands down your chin as your back bowed hard off the bench, your whole body trembling under the assault of pleasure. Your cunt clenched tight around the egg, milking it involuntarily, while your ass throbbed with each hum of the vibrating beads. Everything inside you was pulsing, moving, grinding you down into submission.

Tony watched, transfixed, his gaze locked on your ruined, shaking form. “There she goes - God, I should patent that moan.”

Your eyes rolled back. You could barely breathe. You could only tremble and leak and convulse as the orgasm tore through you. The bench beneath you vibrated subtly with your body’s response.

Friday: "Orgasm confirmed."

Tony waited until you were trembling, your breathing uneven, your thighs still twitching with aftershocks that rippled through your overstimulated body. Sweat slicked your skin in a thin, glistening sheen, catching the light as your chest heaved with broken gasps around the gag. Your limbs strained weakly against the restraints.

Then- slowly, methodically- he reached between your cheeks and took hold of the first bead. He didn’t rush. He eased it out one at a time, each slick orb dragging along your inner walls with a sticky, stretching glide. You shuddered at the sensation- the unbearable emptiness that bloomed in the wake of each removal. Your ass clenched reflexively around the loss, trying to hold onto what had filled you so completely. But he kept going.

The final bead popped free with a slick, obscene sound. Your hips jolted involuntarily, your back arching once more as your body spasmed again, clinging to the ghost of sensation.

Friday's voice crackled overhead. "Anal pressure reduced. Sphincter still contracting. She’s experiencing post-orgasmic muscle spasms."

Then came the egg.

He curled his fingers inside you, tugging the retrieval loop with a firm, practiced motion. The egg slipped free, wet and shiny,  your cunt fluttering uselessly around the sudden void. The stretch, the drag, the warmth- it all left you aching. You cried into the gag, overwhelmed by the emptiness and the continued tremors in your muscles. Your thighs kicked slightly, your knees drawing in as far as the restraints would allow.

"Vaginal walls contracting. Core temperature still elevated. She's not done trembling yet," Friday observed, calm as ever.

Tony held both toys in one hand now- wet, warm, shining. He looked down at you with naked satisfaction.

"That’s some damn good tech," he said. "But we’re not done."

From the tray, he lifted his final piece.

A dildo- sleek, deep grey, Stark-stamped at the base. Modeled after him, and you knew it. Maybe a little bigger. Slightly wider at the base, with delicate ridges along the underside that hinted at something extra. Your breath caught just looking at it.

“This one’s special, baby. Built it from memory- well, from yours,” Tony said, rolling it in his hand. “Temperature regulated, pressure-sensitive, and the best part? The internal sensors sync to your contractions. It responds to you. The more you clench, the deeper it drives. A perfect loop.”

You whimpered around the gag, heart fluttering.

He moved between your spread legs and lined it up against your soaked, fluttering entrance. You were already sensitive- still trembling from the last orgasm- and when the wide tip pressed in, you nearly cried. It stretched you slowly, steadily, a little more than you were used to. Your slick walls resisted at first, clenching down instinctively, but Tony was patient, guiding it with precise control.

“There you go,” he coaxed, voice smooth but sharp-edged with amusement. “That’s it. Take all of it. Come on, baby- I know you can..”

His tone dipped into a purr. “There you go. Taking it like you need it. Bet you love being filled up with Stark-grade tech, huh?”

Your back bowed off the bench as he pushed it in, inch by inch, your pussy yielding to every contour, forced to accommodate the full shape of it. The fullness was delious, your body stretched taut around it. Your eyes rolled back as the final ridge slipped inside, the toy settling deep.

“There,” he said, watching your reactions with fascination. “Fills you out just right. And now... we see what she can really do.”

The base clicked into a pulse pattern, and the toy began to move inside you- slow at first, deliberate, like it was learning your shape. You could feel every textured ridge of the shaft as it rubbed against your inner walls, dragging across oversensitive flesh, sparking little detonations of pleasure with every pass.

Then it pulsed- long and low, a rhythmic thrum that radiated from base to tip, sending heat spiraling through your belly. With every thrust, the toy seemed to stretch you deeper, nudging a spot that made your toes curl and your thighs twitch against the restraints. Your pussy clenched around it reflexively, triggering the internal sensors Tony had mentioned. And just like that, the toy responded- pressing harder, thrusting deeper, faster.

It wasn’t just fucking you- it was reading you, syncing to the wild flutter of your muscles, pulsing in tandem with your arousal.

“Look at her,” Tony murmured, grinning as he watched the toy disappear again and again between your legs. “Every little squeeze makes it work harder. You’re doing this to yourself, baby. And I haven’t even touched your clit yet.”

You’d been so consumed by the thrusting inside you, by the stretch and pulse of the toy, that you hadn’t even noticed Tony move. But suddenly, he was there- looming over you, and the egg was pressed directly to your clit.

The sensation was immediate and brutal.

Your entire body jolted. The contact felt almost painful, your nerves raw and exposed, the stimulation electric. You tried to buck away, hips arching, thighs trembling, but you had nowhere to go.

Tony caught you effortlessly. One hand shoved the egg against your swollen clit, refusing to relent, while the other pressed down on your thigh to keep your knees from closing.

“Uh uh. None of that,” he said smoothly. “You don’t get to hide from this, baby. You earned it.”

You sobbed into the gag, thrashing your hips side to side, but the bench and Tony’s hands made escape impossible. Every attempt to squirm just sent the dildo thrusting deeper inside you, and the egg grinding cruelly over your clit.

“You’re not gonna break,” he whispered, teasing. “You’re gonna burn for me.”

"Don’t you dare run from it. look at me."

He was holding you still- one hand clamped over your thigh to keep your legs spread, the other pressing the egg mercilessly to your clit. You were trembling in his grasp, utterly helpless against the merciless pairing of his tech and his control.

"You’re gonna come again for me, sweetheart. Real data’s in the repeat response," he said, eyes locked on yours, voice both commanding and hungry.

The dildo thrust deep, the ridges grinding against your most sensitive spots as your walls clamped down. The egg buzzed brutally against your swollen clit, so overstimulated you couldn’t tell whether you were trying to run from it or chase it. Every jolt of pleasure lit your nerves like lightning- white-hot and impossible to hold back.

Your body jerked, hips spasming, thighs trembling violently as the sensations overloaded you. Your entire body was working against you- every clench, every twitch, every gasp just triggered the toy to go deeper, harder, faster. You weren’t riding it anymore- it was riding you, and Tony just watched with that devilish smirk, keeping you wide open.

“That's it. Shake for me. Scream into that gag. Show me what science can do.”

The climax tore through you without mercy- harder, deeper, a violent unraveling of every nerve as your body convulsed around the relentless rhythm of the tech inside you. You didn’t just come; you shattered, splintering open in a release so intense it blurred your vision, your mind, your ability to distinguish pleasure from pain. Your vision shattered into sparks, your scream muffled into a raw, hoarse noise behind the gag. Your body thrashed in the restraints, muscles locking as the orgasm ripped through you, longer and sharper than the last.

Friday: "Second orgasm confirmed. Neural spike significant. Subject approaching physical limit."

He slowed the toy, letting it ease to a stop deep inside you before withdrawing it carefully, letting you feel every last ridge dragging along your raw, overstimulated walls. Then, with a gentleness that almost contrasted the torment he’d just put you through, he removed the egg from your clit. The instant the contact broke, your whole body sagged in the restraints with relief and exhaustion. You were shaking, barely breathing- every inch of you buzzing, nerves fried and twitching from the overload.

You could taste salt on your lips- your own tears and spit, your jaw aching from clenching around the gag. You were drenched, body glistening with sweat, your skin flushed and hypersensitive to the air.

He removed the gag last. Your jaw fell slack with a wet, trembling gasp, strands of spit clinging to the corners of your mouth. You blinked up at him, vision hazy, lips wet and parted.

Tony gazed down at you, eyes gleaming with wicked satisfaction, his mouth tugging into a crooked grin that said told you so. He looked like a man admiring his finest creation- smug, yes, but also thoroughly entertained by the glorious, twitching mess sprawled out beneath him.

“You did good, baby. Fucking beautiful. But next time?”

He leaned close, brushing a kiss to your temple- slow, deliberate, his breath warm against your damp skin.

“Think I’ll need to design something that gets you to squirt. Can’t let a variable like that go untested. Wouldn’t be very Stark of me to stop now, would it?”

He turned with a little flourish, tapping the screen with a flick of his fingers, not bothering to look back.

You're warm, comfortable, wearing one of Tony's MIT hoodies, which are not too big, asleep but not necessarily.

You reach you hand out to the other side of the bed, the side where Tony- usually- lay. Instead of a really firm body that sleeps like a rock, your hand hits the mattress.

Your brain frowns. The 'What the hell.' type. You wake slightly, though your eyes are not fully open yet, turning to his side.

Usually there's a certain Tony Stark who lies there sprawled, arm around your waist, legs hooked with yours. Too close, too warm, murmuring incoherently about how warm you are.

But tonight? Empty.

You sit up, squinting your eyes and scanning the room as if he was hiding behind a chair. As if he was a racoon, not a CEO, not a superhero, not your extremely hot husband.

You get up, pad out of the room and down the quiet hall. You're not worried now, not quite. You know exactly where to look. There's only one place he'd go when sleep fails him.

The lab.

The elevator ride down is smooth and silent, you lean against the walls, watching the city drop as you descend. The doors open with a soft hiss, and you step into the lab.

There he is.

Tony is standing at one of the workbenches, back facing you, posture tensed in a way you recognize immediately.

The lab is dimly lit at this hour. Holograms flicker over the workbench, active, running some programs. Tools scattered all across the desk, like they were abandoned mid- thouhght.

He's muttering numbers, half-sentences, complaints aimed at absolutely no one

Tony hasn't noticed you yet, which is... rare.

You take a quiet step forward, then another, and not after long you're right behind him. You smirk, and lean in behind him as say, as sweet as sugar-

"Boo."

Tony jumps. Not a dignified flinch. A full heart-stopping-soul-leaving-body- jump, hand flying to his chest as he turns around, taking support of the desk with the other hand.

"Jesus!" he breathes, looking like a man who saw a ghost "You cannot sneak up on a man like that, y/n!"

You clap a hand over your mouth, fake-shocked. "Wow. Iron man. Earth's mightiest hero, defeated by his wife."

"You're scary I'll give you that." he chuckled, shoulders relaxing, like they always do when around you.

"Ok honey, what are you up to here?" You ask, gesturing your chin vaguely towards the entire existence of the desk.

" I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd come down here and do... something." He says, running a hand down his face, exhaustion taking over now.

"Something." You repeat slowly, nodding.

"Yeah," he says lowly, stepping into your space like it's second nature. Too close.

He's more in the light now, and you see his face. Properly.

Your heart clenches at the sight, bloodshot eyes, dark bags under his eyes. It's not a lot, but it's something, and it kills you seeing him like this.

"Tony." You whisper, hands cupping his cheeks. He leans into the touch, eyes closing briefly before looking into yours.

"You need sleep. You can't keep tinkering like this at 3 A.M."

"So I can do it before 3?"

"Still no."

He lets out a breathy chuckle.

"You don't have to worry though. I'm ok," he stated.

"You don't look ok," you say quietly, brushing your thumb gently under his eyes, tracing the faint shadows like they'll disappear if you smooth them hard enough.

His hands come up to your waist, a firm grip but not too hard, fingers twitching slightly, as if you'll disappear if he holds too lightly.

He leans down and captures your lips in a gentle, lingering kiss- not needy- just desperate in the grounding way. His grip on your waist stays as firm as ever, like an anchor that's keeping him on the ground. Your hands slide gently from his cheek to the back of his neck, fingers curling.

His right hand goes to your back and settles there, pulling you in closer against his chest, slowly leaning in more, dipping you slightly against a nearby desk, 'cus he's Tony Stark, 'cus he's dramatically romantic. But it's not all for show; it has that softness woven underneath, you can feel it on your lips.

After a while, he slowly pulls out of the kiss, leaving both of you breathless, resting his forehead against yours.

"Let's get you to bed," You say, taking his hand in yours. He doesn't argue; he doesn't try to fight it. That's how you knowhe's tired. He simply allows himself to be dragged to the elevator, fingers entwining with yours like he's been waiting to do it.

"You realize," he says as you drag him out, "I'm being escorted by my very intimidating spouse to bed."

"Don't push it," you say. " I will steal the blankets."

"Cruel." Tony mock-scoffs.

The elevator doors hiss open, and you step in.

The ride back up is fairly slow. Tony rests his head against the glass wall behind him, sighing. You rest your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his. He rests his head on top of yours.

"You scared me down there in the lab, Anthony." You say matter-of-factly.

Tony turns to you slowly, brows lifting, " First of all- Anthony? Wow."

He grins anyway and steps in front of you, arm casually braced against the wall beside your head, like he's not deliberately boxing you in.

"Mrs. Stark," He says mildly

Your heart jumps into your throat, and there heavy pulse throbbing in your ears the minute you hear that.

"You are aware sneaking up on your on your husband is a federal crime, right?"

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you.

"And what's the punishment?" You ask.

He tilts his head, eyes flicking to your lips for a second, licking his lips, before returning to your eyes, "Depends on how cooperative the suspect is."

"You're insufferable." You grin.

"And you stole my last name." He hums.

"You gave it to me!" You protest, offended.

"I know,” he says smugly. "Best gift I’ve ever given."

He leans down and nibbles on your lower lip. The elevator door dings open.

"Oh, c'mon!" he groans, throwing his hands up.

You click your tongue, stepping out, dragging him out.

"Better luck next time. We're heading to bed now."

" I wouldn't have it any other way, Mrs. Stark."

When you reach the bedroom, Tony collapses onto the bed first, sprawled across it like a starfish, and retracts when you try to get into bed.

"See, way better, you and me, in bed. Solves all universal problems, really," you say, turning onto your side to face him.

He laughs softly and moves closer, arm slipping around your waist, pulling you close like it’s muscle memory—which, at this point, it is.

You fit together like pieces of a jigsaw.

You tuck your face into his neck. He presses a sleepy kiss to your hair.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” he murmurs.

“It's what I'm here for, Tony,” you reply, without hesitation.

He relaxes fully then, weight warm and solid against you, exhaustion finally winning. Within moments, his breathing deepens, even and slow.

You walk towards the lab immediately noting its state of disarray. Tony has been in there for god knows how long, he hasn’t been the same after New York. He is constantly trying to perfect the suit. You can tell the experience hangs over him, looming behind every corner. It's taken a toll, you can see it clearly as you watch him through the glass door. His messy hair, dark eyebags, fidgety hands – he always needs to be doing something, tinkering or holding anything. A pang of sympathy shoots through you as you watch him drag a hand down his face. 

Enough is enough, he needs help you decide with finalty. 

Pushing through the door with purpose you are instantly hit with the smell of oil. Tony lazily glances at you then sighs deeply. He watches your approach in the reflection of the metal in front of him, setting down the tool in his hand to wipe his dirty hands on a rag. You stop just beside the table with arms crossed.

“Mr. Stark-” “Shouldn’t you be home by now?” Tony interrupts, pretending to look for something on the table.

“Shouldn’t you?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. 

He glances at you briefly through the corner of his eye. 

“I am home,” he responds. 

You look around the room incredulously. “Right, love what you’ve done with the place. The industrial lighting is very homey,” you tap the metal plate in front of him to get his attention but fail, “is this a Boccioni?” you ask with a soft smile. Tony doesn’t meet your eye. 

“I don’t know if you realized, but every time you clocked in over the last 2 years it was in a building with my name on it. Pretty sure this is my home hun,” he says flatly. 

You huff out a laugh and lean a hip against the table. “Seriously though, when was the last time you were out of the lab?”

He sighs dramatically. “I'm not in the mood for a sharing circle, go home for the night,” he orders, still looking at anything but you.

You shake your head lightly while observing him, willing him to look at you. “I’m not leaving, not until you get out of this room,” you gesture to the space around you then to the oil stains that decorate his band tee, “or those clothes.” He finally meets your eye. 

A mischievous smirk crosses his lips as he tilts his head to look you up and down. “You'd like that wouldn't you? Was this all a plot to get me naked?” 

“Jesus,” you can’t help but smile. At least he is joking, but you know he is just doing it to redirect the conversation. You sigh heavily while looking down at him, “what am I going to do with you?”

“I have a few ideas”

“Oh really? Well, I think you should go shower and actually try to sleep more than 2 hours at a time,” you reply, trying not to imagine what he was insinuating. He only scoffs in return. “Sir, I'm worried about you,” you say seriously, shifting your position so you are sitting on the desk. 

He stares at the contraption in front of him leaving your words to linger in the air. “I don't want to sleep,” he states with the most vulnerability you have ever seen from him. You can’t even imagine the horrors he relives every time he closes his eyes. Right now he is wound so tight, either constantly on edge or free falling in darkness. In a fleeting moment where your affection overpowers your sense of professionalism, you reach out and cup his face, thumb caressing his cheek. His eyes shudder closed. 

Finally processing the line you just crossed you yank your hand away mortified, but Tony grabs ahold of it before you can retreat too far. He moves his head towards your hand, nuzzling it like a deprived cat. 

“Oh my god, Mr. Stark I’m so sorry,” you say frantically trying once again to move your hand away. His grip turns to steel around your wrist, firmly holding it in place. He is so detached that any physical affection must have broken something deep within him.  He is lost in his own world, completely unresponsive to your words as he holds your hand to his face just soaking it in.

“This is incredibly unprofessional,” you try once again to convince him, and yourself, but this must prompt Tony to go further as he rests the side of his head on your plush thighs. One hand holding your wrist, the other resting dangerously close to your hip, this is the most at peace he’s looked in months. 

“We shouldn't be doing this,” your last ditch attempt to persuade yourself this doesn't feel entirely natural. 

“Oh c'mon baby,’ his voice is broken and exasperated.

A shallow breath releases itself from your lungs. As if on instinct you rake your nails through his disheveled hair causing him to scrunch his eyes closed. A gasp leaves his mouth as you reach the tuft of hair on his neck, playing with it lightly before resting your hand on his shoulder feeling the tense muscles below. 

“Sir-” “Tony,” his voice is muffled from where he presses against you, “call me Tony.” 

You feel a slight thrill at this. He has always been “Sir” or “Mr. Stark”, now he is just Tony. How fitting, this is the most human he has ever looked to you; broken, begging for anything you'll give, pathetic. 

“Tony,” your voice is breathless as you try his name on your tongue, his hand on your wrist tightens momentarily as the other grasps your hip. You feel heady, “I’m here to help, how can I do that?” 

His face remains unfazed by the HR nightmare occuring, “touch me.” You don’t respond. Suddenly, he pushes away from you and you think he has sobered from the high of physical affection, that he has realized you are his employee and he has an image to uphold as a cocky, emotionless playboy. Instead, he reaches back and tugs his shirt over his head to reveal his defined torso. His chest heaves as he mutters the word that finally breaks you: “please.” 

Mr. Stark never bothers with manners, but apparently Tony does. That is why you hold his face between your palms and guide him up to you. That is why you urge him to stand between your legs by wrapping them around his bare waist. That is why you gently kiss him with more love and adoration than anyone should hold for their boss. Because he is no longer a character, he is a real human. 

A heavy sigh leaves him as he deflates against you. Resting both hands on the desk beneath you he practically cages you in. You taste bitter coffee on his tongue and feel some tension leave him as you tilt your head, deepening the soft kiss. 

One of your hands drags down his front until you meet the waistline of his pants. You turn to look at his profile before softly palming his semi through his sweats. His breath hitches in your ear and you can't help the small smile that tugs on your lips at how reduced the Tony Stark is, all for you.

Trailing your fingers lightly up his growing bulge his hips buck forward chasing contact. But you don’t give in yet, rather you relish in the way he can’t stop his body from following your featherlight touches. After a moment of you watching his eyebrows furrowed and soaking in the moment, Tony decides this isn’t enough. 

He grabs your teasing hand and forces it forward harshly, groaning at the sensation. Then he pulls it roughly to his face to nuzzle against it again while shifting slightly to one side to rub his member against your shin. Warmth rushes to your cheeks, never have you experienced this – a man humping your leg like a dog in heat. 

“Fuck Tony,” you say breathlessly, he only exhales loudly as he moves to rest his forehead on your shoulder allowing your hand to fall in the process. Your now free hands move on their own feeling the rigid expanse of his back. Tony’s facial hair tickles against your neck as he tilts his head to kiss it hungirly. 

Continuing to rut against your leg, Tony moves to palm one of your breasts through your shirt. His other hand ventures lower to rest at the bottom of your stomach before quickly moving to cup your covered mound. This forces a gasp from you at the sudden onslaught of sensations – Tony isn't the only one starved of human touch.

His fingers press eagerly into you, massaging both your chest and now wet pussy. His hips shift upwards while his neck tilts further to mouth your jaw. 

“Such a pretty girl,” he presses the heel of his palm against you, applying hard pressure to your clit while licking the column of your neck. The hand massaging your breasts moves to fish through the hair at your nape, forcing your head to tilt for better access. “Look what you do to me baby. Needed you so badly,” his breath fans against your sensitive neck, “and you knew that too, so good to me, always know exactly what I need.” 

Your thighs squeeze around his hand at the praise, biting your lip at the unyielding pressure he applies to your core while continuing to pleasure himself against you. He rubs his tip against your knee, and you are delighted when he mewls against your neck. 

You drag your hands down the slope of his neck, feeling his rapid pulse. “God Tony, you need to calm down,” you say into his ear. 

“Can’t,” he murmurs against your cheek, nudging his nose into the side of your face. You bring a hand to the back of his neck petting him comfortingly. 

“I want you to,” you reply quietly. He pulls back to assess the sincerity in your eyes before finally giving in with a nod. Pushing down the satisfaction you get from your usually stubborn boss relenting so easily, you focus on the task at hand. Now is not the time to revel in this small victory, now is the time to finally allow yourself to indulge in the fantasies you have tried so hard to suppress. The feelings that have been brewing for so long, the way you unconsciously compare every date to him, the fleeting thoughts of his tinkering hands that flash through your mind late at night. Now is your chance to act. 

You push at his shoulders softly, he moves back just enough to allow you the space to stand from the desk before guiding him backwards to sit in the chair. As you kneel you drag the tips of your fingers against his torso softly with your descent. He tenses at the feeling of your palms brushing his thighs soothingly. 

“You work so hard Tony, let me help you relax,” you look up at his captivated face through your lashes. 

He nods quickly and you reach up to still the harsh movement. Your palm drags down his body again as you kiss him lightly through his sweatpants. His eyes squeeze shut as if resisting the urge to buck up against you forcefully and take what he wants. 

Your fingers hook under his waistband and you carefully pull his sweats and boxers down. Your hands find purchase on his bare knees as you take the opportunity to appreciate his now free cock resting against his defined stomach. It twitches beautifully as you blow on it lightly 

Your hands push his legs open further and you position yourself comfortably between them. While tucking a strand of hair behind your ear you lean forward to kiss his blushing tip lovingly. The hitch of his breath is music to your ears as he mutters your name encouragingly. You follow the path of a prominent vein with the tip of your tongue all the way from his base to his tip where you give him a series of kitten licks while holding his base with loose fingers. Finally, you flatten your tongue against his cock before swirling it around the head. A guttural moan sounds from his chest as you give into his desires.  

Hollowing your cheeks you take him into your mouth, you make sure to coat him generously with your saliva. A hand fists into your hair, keeping it out of your face as the other grasps the armrest with all the pent up energy he is trying not to exert on you. Tony knows this is to help him relax, he is just having a hard time doing so when you look so pretty with his dick in your mouth. 

Your lips release his member, a string of drool connecting you to him as you take in his tense form. No, this won't do. 

“Relax T,” your voice is gentle as you pepper kisses along his abdomen, stroking him softly as the other hand rubs his thigh reassuringly. 

He finally sinks back into the chair as you suck delicately on the head of his leaking cock, your soft hand caressing the length of his now lubricated member. You stay like this for a beat until you decide to grasp him firmer, he smirks down at you. Tony watches with lidded eyes as the hand on his thigh makes its way under your dress pants to graze lightly against your lips, spreading the dampness before rubbing your bulb slowly. 

“What a greedy girl, making me feel so good, my girl,” he says, making your hands move a little faster, “all mine.” His head lulls back in pleasure. 

You remain at this pace, inserting a finger into your now sopping hole trying to match the speed of your hand around Tony’s cock. Your head moves down to mouth lazily at his balls causing a groan from the man above you. Your thumb rubs against his sensitive tip spreading pre cum as your hand begins to twist around him only adding to his bliss. 

Tony’s breathing starts to become laboured, but you don’t move faster to help him finish – you want him to stay this relaxed as long as possible. His hips shift slightly in his seat before shallowly thrusting against the smoothness of your palm. Your arousal grows so you add another finger to stretch your dripping hole. 

Balls tighten against your tongue and you know he is close, “shit, honey I can’t hold it much longer.” The fingers in your hair tug lightly in warning as he curses under his breath, then he uses both hands to guide you off his member. You whine in response, “I know baby it felt too good, I don’t want it to end yet.” 

Hips moving on their own you begin to grind against your fingers, resting your head against Tony’s thigh as he watches you while regaining his breath. His large, rough hands remain on your head, pushing the hair out of the way and caressing your cheek. Your mouth opens wide as you continue to stroke yourself, pressing against Tony’s slumped form. Tony watches mesmerized as your stomach tightens and soft whimpers free from you. 

“Thaaaat’s it, cum for me baby, it’ll make it easier to fuck you,” and that encouragement is what sends you over the edge with a loud cry. 

With heavy breaths you rest your forehead against Tony’s thigh, but he grows impatient after a moment so he guides you to stand and tenderly removes your clothing. You stand bare in front of him as he grazes the curve of your waist with the back of his hand. The movement feels so domestic in contrast to the usual professionalism you share during the work day. Hands grip your hips tightly as they drag you down to sit on his lap.

Each knee is positioned beside his hips and you lift up to drag your drenched lips against the length of his member. You both gasp as you reach down to slide his tip across your slit, it catches lightly on the hole and his hands tighten impossibly on your body. 

“Don't tease,” his lips brush against the skin of your collarbone and you position his dripping head to breach your entrance. With a strangled moan you sink down on him until your hips meet. You remain completely seated on him for a moment, grinding softly against him to adjust. His teeth sink into the skin where shoulder meets neck and your hands shoot to perch on his shoulders at the new sensation. 

Lifting softly you still just before his tip, then sink back down slowly. Tony’s muscular arms, the ones you shamefully admired as he would hammer away at his suit, wrap around your torso pulling your chest flush against his. Your hardened nipples find friction against his pecs as you begin to bounce. 

“Please baby, feels so good, need it so bad,” Tony whines in your ears that feel entirely too warm, his hips beginning to meet yours as you move harder, “yeah c'mon hunny.” 

Tony fills you so well it is almost overwhelming. He grows desperate, any calm you had managed to instill in him before gone completely as he drives upward, your breasts rippling with the movement. You meet him with a fervor of your own while kissing him passionately. Tongues tangling, shattered gasps, whispered praises, both of you fight to make the other feel pleasurable. The whole scene is desperate. 

The chair beneath you squeaks as your knees dig painfully into the material. Callused hands roam wildy against your body leaving goosebumps in their trail. One large hand reaches up to cradle the back of your head, holding your foreheads together strongly. His lidded eyes that once looked so drained now show passion behind them. His blown pupils decorated by puffy eyebags, a reminder of why you started this exchange, stare down at where you meet, mesmerized by the squelching noises your pussy makes as it squeezes around him. A tough thumb brushes against your sensitive clit making you arch against him. This allows him to reach a new angle, one that forces his angry tip to push bluntly against that delicious spot inside you. 

The rest of his large hand stretches to hold the length of your waist as his thumb strokes you eagerly, his index extending to your ribs. The movement has you squirming against him, digging your nails into the muscle of his shoulders as you drop yourself down on him harder, ignoring the growing pain in your thighs from the effort. 

Tony’s mouth, usually so quick witted, now drops in a silence. A deep flush decorates his cheeks from the exertion of his movement, as well as his valiant effort trying so hard to hold off his building orgasm until you finish. 

“Say your mine,” he demands breathlessly, your foreheads still pressed together. 

“Yes Tony, I’ve always been yours,” your speech is littered with shallow breaths. 

“I’ve looked into some of those guys you’ve gone out with, should’ve come to me sooner. I could’ve made you feel so good honey,” he mumbles mindlessly, his thumb pressing down harder on your nub. 

“God, it's always been you, only ever you,” he throws his head back with a moan that sounds like it has been ripped from deep within him, “no one else can make me feel this good, you are doing so well Tony.” Your head finds a spot leaning against his shoulder and neck, kissing the thin skin there adoringly. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and he does everything he can to tighten that knot in your stomach. 

“M’so close,” you babble. He shifts uncontrollably under you and his head is thrown forward so his mouth can drag across your neck. You move to rake your nails through his hair and he whimpers against your ear at the feeling. 

You clench down and pulse uncontrollably around his cock forced inside you. A fresh wave of wetness spills from you and Tony can’t bear the slick slide your soft walls against him as he forces you down onto his cock. He cums with a deep whine against your skin.

Both of your pants fill the otherwise quiet room, your racing heartbeat filling your ears as your spotted vision comes back. Your soft hand rubs his back as you slump against each other's sweaty bodies and he holds you close. His softening member is still stuffed inside your tired hole. 

You brush your nose along the length of the slumped neck resting against you until you reach his ear, “you better sleep well after that.” 

He smiles into the skin of your shoulder before nodding lightly, “baby I may not wake up again.” 

Some of the words he said during the heat of the moment finally process in your foggy mind, “did you really research those dates I had?”

The vibration of his hum sends a wave of chills through your nude body. “Had JARVIS look into ‘em, cant have my girl getting whisked away from me,” his voice is exhausted as he speaks into the skin of your shoulder.  

No words come from you, you only look down at him with a soft smile adorning your flushed face. 

My Girl 

Smut ❤️‍🔥| Fluff 🥹 | Angst 🥀

Insecurities ❤️‍🔥🥹

Ceo 🥹

Spicy ❤️‍🔥

Her 🥀🥹

Panic 🥀

Prank 🥀🥹

Two Months 🥀🥹

Loss 🥀

Lips ❤️‍🔥

Anxiety 🥹

Issues 🥀🥹

Edged ❤️‍🔥

Unattractive ❤️‍🔥

Endgame ❤️‍🔥

Not Just Benefits ❤️‍🔥

Taped ❤️‍🔥

He Wouldn't Care 🥀🥹

Confession 🥀🥹

Never for granted 🥀🥹

Shadows 🥀

A Promise 🥀🥹

Tease ❤️‍🔥

No Goodbye 🥀🥹

Happy New Year ❤️‍🔥

Best Birthday Ever ❤️‍🔥

Hide and Seek 🥹

Elevator 🥀🥹

Ordinary 🥹

In the moment ❤️‍🔥

Shattered 🥀

Dad 🥺

Flour ❤️‍🔥

Burnout 🥀

Everything okay? 🥺

Hold my hand 🥹

Parade: Part 1 | Part 2🥀❤️‍🔥

Divorce: Part 1 | Part 2 🥀🥹

Starks: Part 1 | Part 2 🥀🥹

Roses: Part 1 | Part 2 ❤️‍🔥🥀

Baby, Maybe?: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part 5 | Epilogue 🥀❤️‍🔥🥹

Fertile: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Epilogue 🥀🥺