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-𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧
𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧
" DAEMONUIUM " - Tony Stark
Chapter Summary ➣ The Fall of Stark Castle. Pairing ➣ Fallen Prince!Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 611 words Chapter Warnings ➣ Medieval! AU, Slow Burn, Violence, Major Character Death. Author's Notes ➣ An idea by @welldonekhushi, a bit different to what I usually write, next chapter will hopefully provide more context. Thank you to my lovely beta reader @nicoline1998enilocin <3
Prologue - Overture
The rope felt rough against the Prince’s neck.
Tapestries of silk, once proudly displaying the kingdom’s colours and emblems, have been shredded from their rods, some burnt into meagre piles of ash; the rest torn by the passage of time and faded by the harsh sun.
The throne, once a shining beacon in the grand hall, now stands in solitude. Its layers of gold leaf have been stripped away, revealing the cold iron underneath. The brilliant gemstones that adorned its surface have been pillaged and looted, leaving only empty settings behind. The rows of stained glass windows, each depicting a moment of the kingdom's triumphs, are now shattered, their intricate designs marred into shards.
The peasants stormed the palace. They came in hordes of near thousands, pitchforks and flames in hand. The grand doors splintered under their force, crashing open to reveal the opulent corridors within. The echoes of their cries reverberated off the stone walls as they surged forward, a seething mass of defiance against the monarchy. The nobles, once standing proud and untouchable, now cowered in their gilded chambers, the unfortunate ones having been slaughtered in cold blood.
The same could not be said for the Prince. For he ran, like a swift wind through every nook and cranny of the castle — up twisting stairwells, down spiralling towers — the peasant’s voices like cries of the damned — the walls quaking with emancipated rage, like the first leak in the wall of a dam, forewarning that nothing could hold for long. His patterned robe dragged upon the floor, stained red with blue blood.
His legs could only carry him so far; he found himself perched at the edge of the turret, overlooking the dark horizon and the sheer drop into the ocean below, the waves crashing against the splintered rocks. He could hear the peasants’ voices as they approached, drawing closer by the second. It dawned on him that death was not a matter of when, but how.
“ There he is, ” — fear became a tangible, living force, creeping over his figure like some ravenous beast, holding him in a standstill — “ Seize him! ”
The Prince was bound; not by silver shackles or golden chains, but by simple rope. He was marched like cattle out of the palace gates, being put on as a barbaric display of irreverence; a sovereign turned laughing stock in the span of a night. The peasants scrambled like rats, just for the chance to witness the spectacle.
Amidst the crackling of bonfires and the scorching heat. His body trembled with cold, but his mind burned with anger — with memories of the firelight still drifting like phantoms in his brain.
Tears fall from the Prince’s eyes. They meander down his cheeks.
That fateful second before the floorboards dropped, the Prince pondered if he had anything left to save in death. He stands in solitude on the gallows. While the Cardinal recited blessings in Latin, the words in the people’s mouths were nothing but curses, laced with vitriol and the name of the Devil, lashing out like a bitten and cornered dog, condemning him to the deepest rings of Hell.
The creak of the floorboards, the roar of the crowd — these were among the last things he would hear before he died. His eyes did not bear remorse; instead, they held shame, to be stripped from the high chambers of the castle and reduced to the same fate as a lowly outlaw.
What he’d give to be a young prince again, adorned with jewels and veneration — now he’s traded in his necklace for a noose —
The Prince took his last few straggling breaths, and the floor gave way beneath him.
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Body Electric - Tony Stark
Summary ➣ You and Tony work through your insecurities, together. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 1.4k words Warnings ➣ Mature, Body Insecurity, Mild Nudity. Request ➣ Ask Author's Notes ➣ Requested by @welldonekhushi, Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. However, if you're interested in beta-reading, please let me know!
You winced as the edge of your Louboutins scraped against your flesh.
Your once pristine skin, now an angry shade of red, was revealed as the heels were carelessly discarded onto the carpeted floor of Tony’s bedroom.
You always prided yourself on being flawless and put together, but in this moment, you couldn't deny the pain caused by the sight of the shoes. On one hand, they encapsulated Tony’s adoration for you, how he was willing to buy you anything you’d ever desired. On the other hand, they were a symbol of everything you tried to cover up—your looks, your desire to appear mature, your self-doubts.
As you kicked them off onto the plush carpet, you couldn't help but feel conflicted about the persona you had forced yourself to maintain. The persona who used her appearance to mask her insecurities, and who constantly sought to cover up any minute flaw as if they were parasites, latching onto your skin. Even now, as you undressed under prying eyes nowhere to be found but your own, you couldn't shake off the feeling of this uncomfortable façade.
Compared to Tony, you felt like nothing, a shadow in the glow of his perfection. Tony was everything you yearned to be—charming, confident, and most importantly, effortlessly attractive. His character only magnified your insecurities, the chasm between who you were and who you pretended to be.
In front of the multitude of cameras and paparazzi, it felt like every minute action and detail was analyzed by the media. You recalled the first time you had gone out with Tony in public, it had not been more than a day before almost every news outlet caught wind of it.
Each headline felt more painful than the next, some accusing you of being with Tony for his money, some poking fun of him for dating a ‘normal’ woman and not some Victoria’s Secret supermodel. It felt like everybody was criticizing every part of you, breaking you down into nothing but imperfect pieces to dissect.
Spending hours in front of a vanity became second nature to you, fingers blistering from the scalding hot curling iron accidentally burning your skin, applying layers upon layers of makeup. Just to get ready to attend some gala, while adorning Tony’s arms like the multitude of watches that lined his suit cuffs.
You stood in front of the large window, overlooking the dark horizon over the ocean. Your soft reflection was staring back at you. You frowned, despising seeing yourself devoid of any makeup.
Tony was still cleaning himself up in the bathroom, you had already taken off your dress, in its place—an ashen silk Brunello Cucinelli evening gown that Tony had bought for you, claiming it ‘accentuates’ your eyes.
“Hey.” You heard Tony approach you from behind as you felt his touch on your smaller figure, you felt the warmth of his skin against yours through his black tank top and sweats. The musky scent of his cologne graced your senses.
His fingers traced a deliberate path down your sides before settling on your waist. His touch was gentle yet possessive as he pulled you closer to him, pressing you into the softness of his chest; his chin resting on your shoulder. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his shirt, accompanied by the faint buzz of the arc reactor embedded in his chest.
Tony’s lips found your neck as he grazed the skin with his teeth, a soft sigh escapes you as his teeth dragged along your pulse point. The soft sensation of his kisses against your skin sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his breath; hot against your ear. Your fingers reached down, intertwining gently with his. While your other hand brushed through his hair, strands of chestnut brown fell between your fingers as you savored the bristly texture.
Tony’s warm body was a comforting contrast against the cold room. As your bodies moved together, he led you to the bed, where he carefully laid you down as gently as possible, as if any false move would shatter you to pieces. His delicate movements were always so contradicting to his persona outside the blanket of intimacy.
He lowered himself for another kiss, his strong arms braced on either side of your head as his lips met yours. You tasted the slight hint of whiskey, still lingering on his tongue—sweet and bitter. Your hands traced along his jaw, feeling the prickly stubble of his salt-and-pepper goatee against your palm.
"I love you." Tony's warm breath tickled your lips as he whispered and gently pulled away, his million-dollar-smile lighting up his face. But a small part of you couldn't help but wonder if those three simple words were truly enough.
“Love you too.” You handed back the statement but Tony could feel something was amiss. Your eyelids drooped and your tone was hesitant, causing a knot of unease to form in his stomach.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Tony's hand, warm and gentle, glides through your hair with a tentative touch. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, his gaze soft. You feel a pang of guilt wash over you as you see the slight crease in Tony's brow. A heavy silence hangs between you as the weight of your inhibitions settles in your gut, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“I just—don’t know what you see in me, Tony.” You frowned as you spoke, your words barely audible in a hushed whisper.
“Angel,” Tony whispers, “You’re beautiful—so fucking beautiful.”
“You really think so?” His words nearly caused tears to spill, you sniffled. The edges of your eyes tearing up.
“"I know so," Tony's warm smile lit up his face and he gently caressed your cheek with his thumb as he tried to cheer you up. The motion of his touch felt so soothing, easing the tension in your heart. Without even realizing it, you found yourself mirroring his contagious smile. "I wish you could see how perfect you are, you’re the most important thing to me, baby. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
"It just feels like you're, y’know—Tony Stark, confidently striding through life with all the grandeur and charisma, while I'm just me," you admitted, self-deprecation evident in your tone.
“Please don't compare yourself to me, your flaws and imperfections are what make you perfect in my eyes.” An idea suddenly came to him, “Let me express my love for you; lay back and let me show you how much I love you.”
As you rested your head on the soft silk pillows, you couldn't help but feel a wave of shame wash over you. Your nightgown was discarded, leaving you exposed in only your undergarments. In moments like these with Tony, you always found ways to hide your body; dimming the lights, covering yourself with sheets—anything that would conceal yourself. But this time, you couldn't bring yourself to do it.
“Look at me, my love, don’t be shy.” With gentle insistence, Tony's hand guides your chin back to meet his gaze.
The warmth of Tony's hand enfolds yours once again, strong and sure. His other hand trails gently along your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine. As he presses his body against yours, the weight is a comforting pressure that grounds you in the moment. He starts with soft kisses on the tips of your fingers, before trailing them up and back down your arm. Each touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the moment as his hands explored every inch of you with a reverence that made your heart ache with longing. Tony’s hands moved with purpose, exploring every curve and contour of your figure as if he were trying to memorize every inch of you.
As the lights were gently dimmed, he reached out and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together, his arms wrapped around you as your foreheads met in a tight embrace, your bodies pressed together as if trying to merge into one. It was quiet, the only noises were your synchronized breaths and the pulse of the reactor, and in that moment, it was as if the whole world had faded away, leaving only you and Tony at its center.
“You’re my everything, I love you, so, so much.”
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Money, Money, Money - Tony Stark
CHAPTER 1 Summary ➣ Starting off as simple, transactional love during the height of Tony’s alcoholism, devolves into something real. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 1.2k words Warnings ➣ Slow Burn, Power Imbalance, Enemies to Lovers, Large age gap, Mildly Pretentious Narrator. Author's Notes ➣ The first, full-fledged Tony Stark series, so excited for this! I've always wanted to write a Materialistic!Reader so here it is! Happy readings <3
On the 86th floor of Stark Tower, atop a mini-bar, sat a delicate glass of Vodka Martini, 3 fluid-ounce Yamazaki, 1 fluid-ounce dry vermouth, with 3 small olives minutely pierced onto a thin gold-plated skewer.
The thin stem of the crystal glass was passed to your gauzy, manicured fingers, in exchange for a crisp stack of ten dollar bills surrendered to the bartender, you didn’t bother to count.
The plump skewer of olives swirled freely in your nearly full martini; minute drops threatened to spill over the edge of its fine rim. Luckily, you had caught the droplets before they had been discarded onto the carpeted floor.
Figures adorned in hues of gold and silver flitted about the lavish parlor, each mirrored the twinkling lights of the Manhattan skyline outside in their respective shimmering gowns, each one more expensive than the last.
The atmosphere was lively, yet the main attraction has yet to arrive. You had heard mentions of the infamous Stark around; his name carried a certain mystique, spoken under hushed whispers amongst the attendees. You had never really met him face-to-face, considering he was the CEO of the company, but your position at Stark Industries held up a pretty good reputation, earning you enough, and granting you an invite to the party.
“Do you think he’s seeing anyone?” You picked up on the conversation between a few women sitting next to you on the barstools. The woman in question, doused in the overwhelming scent of Chanel No. 5, was dressed in a form-fitting Valentino dress. Her voice carried through the air with a thick New-Yorkean accent, a bleak resemblance to her flashy, ostentatious appearance.
“Quit it, stop trying to get into Stark’s pants. You never will.” The blonde next to you responded, patting the other on the shoulder playfully. You caught a glimpse of her manicured nails, adorned with a glossy velvet finish in a similar fashion to your own. However, unlike yours—which were neatly trimmed, the cuticles of her nails were a bit messy. A detail that wouldn't normally matter, but for some reason stood out to you in that moment.
Is she wearing a Cartier bracelet? Your jaw clenched at the sight of her bracelet, sparkling with diamonds and catching the light in a way that made your own bracelet pale in comparison, it was obviously more expensive than yours. The fact alone pissed you off.
The room was filled with a swarm of pretentious individuals, each one flaunting their wealth and superiority. It was suffocating, being surrounded by so many egotistical assholes with their holier-than-thou attitudes. They may have money, but it didn't make them any less shallow or arrogant. You had this sixth-sense of being able to tell how much of an asshole specifically by what adorned their money-laced wrists—whether or not they wore a Patek Phillipe or a Jaeger was enough insight into their entire persona.
“I’ve got a better chance than you at least, Stark would love me!” The first woman's voice snapped like a taut wire, dripping with disdain. Her eyes narrowed and glinted with malice as she shot dirty looks at the others, her loathing almost palpable.
Holier-than-thou attitude, as you had said.
You thought their behavior immature, not wanting to pay attention anymore to such infantile arguments. Fighting over some uber-rich billionaire who could give less of a shit who you are after you had warmed his bed for a single night?
Pfft, fuck no, you were just here for the cocktails.
You brought the crystal glass to your lips, and took your first sip. The alcohol burnt as it cascaded down your throat, leaving your mouth with a spicy aftertaste, you could never really get used to a Martini.
A part of you was contemplating asking for more, but the sensible side knew that ending up slobbering drunk at a party and waking up at the ungodly hour of 2pm with missing jewelry and a killer hangover was not exactly your idea of a good time.
The smooth sip of your drink is abruptly halted by the sharp sound of glass shattering, followed by the shrill voices of the ladies engaged in a vicious argument. Their heated words and swinging arms in-turn send glasses crashing to the ground, littering the once-pristine carpet with sparkling shards of broken glass.
“Did you just call me a bitch?” The blonde's voice rose to a screeching crescendo as she yelled, her face flushed with anger. With a loud thud, she slammed her purse onto the table.
“Yeah, I did—bitch!” Another responded, her voice a bit more high pitched than the other, yet still carrying the same sanctimonious attitude, standing up and facing her with a smug smirk on their face.
“Now, ladies. Must we really be resorting to calling each other names?” A voice echoed from atop the stairwell. The women’s dispute had been abruptly quelled, the whole room seemed silenced, and all eyes seemed to be glued onto the figure.
There stood Tony Stark, dressed in a perfectly-styled, deep-burgundy suit, no doubt Tom Ford, the barchetta pocket gave it away. His hair was styled in his signature quiff, slicked back to a T. And of course, he topped off the ensemble with a pair of red sunglasses, which you’d always found amusing since he'd wear them indoors.
“Welcome, everybody. I would introduce myself, but it seems that you know who I am.” Each step he takes down the glass staircase, each time his Louboutin boots hit the glass stairs, resulted in a loud, echoed clap, which resonated across the room. “I’d personally like to thank all of you for attending. As you know, it happens to be my anniversaire today, so I thought to myself, why not throw a party?”
"What's with all the staring, is my suit on backwards?" Tony joked, his eyes scanning the room as he flashed his signature smirk. You knew, however, he thrived on attention, as if it were fuel for his larger-than-life persona. Flamboyant was practically his middle name; Tony Flamboyant Stark does have a nice ring to it, you chuckled.
"Jarvis," Tony’s voice carried a hint of excitement as he spoke to his AI, "let's crank up the music and get this party started." The monotone response did as so.
After Tony made his grandeur entrance, you retreated to your lone seat at the bar, grateful for the temporary escape from the chaos. The previously bickering women had vanished, leaving a few neighboring barstools conveniently open for your solitude. You took a deep breath and savored the cool air conditioning and the soft murmur of conversation floating around you.
But just when you thought you had some peace and quiet, you heard the shuffling of a chair being pulled out next to you. Expecting one of the argumentative ladies to return, you turned to find Tony Stark himself settling into the seat beside you, nonchalantly pulling out his wallet and fishing out a few bills.
"So, could I buy you a drink?"
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His Sweet Girl - Tony Stark
Summary ➣ Nestled between Tony's legs, and all you wanted was to just feel him. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 724 words Warnings ➣ 18+ / Blindfolds / Daddy Kink / Oral Sex Author's Notes ➣ A short drabble written for my friend @mrshottiefinder on Instagram, written in an barely hour and not proofread. Comments + reblogs are highly appreciated to support more of my sleep-deprived ramblings, enjoy <3
You were snugly nestled between Tony’s legs, the warmth of his body enveloping you. The plush carpet beneath your knees cushioned your weight as you leaned onto him. His deft fingers traced patterns through your hair, smooth and comforting. You closed your eyes and let out a content sigh, feeling completely at ease in his embrace.
The space between you and him feels simultaneously intimate and vast. His body radiates heat, and you can feel every inch of it as he stands so close to you. Your longing to feel his skin against yours is palpable, hindered only by the thin barrier of his dress-pants. The scent of Tony’s cologne filled your nose, a blend of musk and spice that was just uniquely him.
Tony was still dressed in his alpine suit. His tie, neatly fastened in a knot around his neck. The contrast of his crisp, tailored appearance against your barely-there attire was always a turn-on for you. You kneeled before him in nothing but a skimpy black dress, which left almost nothing to the imagination and his favourite pair of heels, feeling both exposed and empowered by his gaze.
The warmth of his touch radiated through your entire body, causing you to melt into his fingers even more. Every breath he took seemed to fill the room with an intoxicating scent that made your head spin.
"Such a good girl," Tony cooed in a deep, seductive tone as he continued to play with your hair, he’d always enjoyed toying with it, he did pay for it anyways.
“How about you play with daddy for a bit, hm? I know you want to." Behind his soft, coordinated actions, you could sense the desperation in his voice as he longed to feel you around him too.
With deliberate slowness, you ran your tongue along the zipper of his dress-pants, your tongue traced a slow, teasing path. Tony’s low groan was followed by a tightening grip on your hair, but you didn't stop.
You wanted to see how far you could push him. You teased at his fly, feeling the zipper with your teeth and tasting the metallic tang in your mouth. But you didn't mind the bitter taste; all you craved was to taste him.
Slowly, you used your teeth to unfasten his fly, all the while keeping your eyes glued onto his. It was a wordless game of seduction, fuelled by the intensity in his dark gaze meeting yours.
With haste, his boxers were pulled down, a harsh contrast to your tender, tentative touch earlier. But you couldn't wait any longer; eagerly taking his half-hard cock in your adrenaline-fueled, trembling hands and giving it a few full strokes.
"Fuck, play with it, baby," Tony groaned as he relaxed into your touch, his legs no longer as constricting as they were before. You heard rustling as Tony fiddled to get his tie off, bringing it to your eyes and tying it behind your head, leaving you in near-darkness, completely at his mercy.
You felt his hands pulling at your hair once again as he guided your eager mouth towards his cock. Almost salivating as you took him into your mouth, the scent of his cologne mingled with the musk of sweat and sex, as well as the salty taste of his pre-cum. You gagged as you took him in with one swift motion, making obscene noises that undoubtedly turned him on as he let out a blissful sigh.
"Your mouth feels amazing wrapped around my cock," he moaned, one hand gripping your hair in a loose ponytail and the other around your neck, it wasn’t that constricting, but god it was sexy as fuck.
As Tony thrusted into your throat, your lipstick smudged around your cheek and the flushed skin of his cock. His movements started slow and cautious as he whispered gentle praises and encouragements, but soon they became frantic and desperate, a clear sign of his impending orgasm.
"Oh god—shit! 'm gonna cum for you, baby!" Tony moaned as he shoved himself deep into the back of your throat. Tears were now streaming freely down your face, mixing in with your once-pristine makeup, staining his expensive tie; but you didn't care anymore. You moaned as you felt his warm cum running down your throat, only intensifying the pleasure for you.
As Tony withdrew, your body was immediately scooped up, your chest pressed onto his firm, muscular torso, the soft pulse of his reactor warming your body as his hands returning to stroke your hair. The tie was discarded without a second thought, finding its place on the floor. His soft, loving gaze meeting yours.
"My sweet girl," Tony smirked, his lips claiming yours.
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Bliss and Honey - Tony Stark
Summary ➣ You and Tony share a moment of intimacy in each other's arms. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 462
Tony's hand was enveloped in yours, his warm fingers intertwined tightly.
His other hand, on your waist, outlined the contours of your body. His weight, pressed against you, pinning you down, grounding you to reality as his warm breath caressed the skin of your neck. Naked skin brushed against naked skin, sending shivers down your spine.
Slowly, you traced your fingers along the defined angles of his jawline, feeling the rough texture of the salt-and-pepper stubble, a harsh contrast against your soft fingertips. A soft shudder left his lips from the contact. And through all this, you caught a whiff of Tony's cologne - a heady mixture of musk and bergamot - adding to the intoxicating experience.
The distance between you and Tony was dissolved by a kiss, your lips crashed together in a frenzy. The sharp tang of sweat mixed with the faint bite of whiskey martini overwhelmed your senses as his lips pressed against yours with fervent desperation. Your heart raced in a frenzy as you both melted into the intense kiss, lost in each other's touch. After what felt like an eternity, he abruptly pulled away, leaving you breathless and craving more.
“Tony—” Your voice trembled as you muttered his name, each syllable rolling off your tongue like sweet honey. Dripping slowly and smoothly, coating your senses and leaving a lingering warmth in their wake.
“I’m here, honey, I’ll take care of you.” His voice comforted you, like an anchor holding you steady. His hand gently stroked your hair, his words gentle and soothing.
You felt him thrusting inside you, with a mixture of pain and pleasure, but mostly the latter. Your teeth dug into your lip in an attempt to stifle the moans that escaped. Each slow, deliberate stroke set fire to every nerve ending in your body, making you crave more.
Tony filled you completely, which drove you wild with desire. The sound of your rapid breaths and the soft grunts escaping from Tony's lips filled the air. With each thrust, his skin rubbed against yours, creating a friction that ignited your senses. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed as pushes himself deeper inside you, feeling his self-restraint slip away as you clenched around him.
"Fuck," Tony murmured. “I love you.” The expletive slipped off his tongue, those three words come so naturally, his voice barely above a whisper.
The three simple words hung in the air, before melting like ecstasy in your veins.
You couldn't help but whimper in pleasure as he hit all the right spots. His hands roamed your body, knowing exactly how to make you lose control. And when Tony pulled you closer with each urgent thrust, wrapping his arms around you, you knew there was no going back.
This was pure bliss, and you never wanted it to end.
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Smut ψ | Fluff ♡ | Angst 🥀
⎊ Money, Money, Money. \ ♡ ψ ➵ Starting off as simple, transactional love during the height of Tony’s alcoholism, devolves into something real. ➵ Ship : Tony Stark x Reader
⎊ Playboy \ ψ ➵ Tony Stark invites you into his Rolls Royce. ➵ Ship : Tony Stark x Reader ⎊ Body Electric \ ♡ 🥀 ➵ You and Tony work through your insecurities, together. ➵ Ship : Tony Stark x Reader
⎊ Bliss and Honey \ ♡ ψ ➵ You and Tony share a moment of intimacy in each other's arms. ➵ Ship : Tony Stark x Reader ⎊ Copacabana \ 🥀 ➵ A letter to Tony Stark, 16 years after his death. ➵ Ship : Tony Stark x Widowed! Reader ⎊ His Sweet Girl\ ψ ➵ Nestled between Tony's legs, and all you wanted was to just feel him. ➵ Ship : Tony Stark x Reader