Daddy's Here
“Sir. Miss (Y/L/N) is entering the facility.”
Tony peers up from his work at the holographic screen above and to the side. He sees you slam the door of your car, lugging your backpack by its strap before putting it on your back with a pained expression. Tony frowns. He had been waiting for you all week, but you certainly don’t look very happy. Then he smirks to himself, knowing he could remedy that in seconds. He abandons his work and heads to the living room, where you will shortly be entering.
The rubber soles of your (f/c) sneakers squeak against the marble floor as you enter. You hadn’t dried off much in the twenty-minute journey from your school to Tony’s place (you weren’t supposed to call it the Avengers Facility anymore). Your hair is damp, as are the shoulders of your flannel shirt. You had come straight from your late exam, and had forgotten that it would be raining after that. You had stopped caring, mostly. All you wanted was your spring break away from the perpetual stress of college, but you still carry the weight of midterm misery with you. You knew Tony would take it away nearly instantly, but for some reason the sight of him sipping a scotch as you entered isn’t enough.
He smirks at you, and you feel some of the misery chip away as you slouch and your backpack slides off with a crash on the floor. You don’t care. You wearily hobble towards him as he stands and says, “Hey, babygirl, you okay?”
You sigh and collapse in his arms. He catches you before you crash on the floor and pulls you up. He’s confused and concerned, and you’re recovering and warm. You lean your head on his shoulder. He strokes the strands of hair on the back of your head and kisses the side of your forehead, his beard gently tickling you. You squeeze tears of relief out of your eyes. He feels them on the side of his neck. You choke on your breath, but managed to whimper, “Daddy…”
His heart skips a beat and his lips form sly smile. He feels you shaking in his arms and tightens his grip. “Shh, baby, Daddy’s here,” he whispers against the top of your head before planting a kiss there.
You let out something in between a moan and a sob. He lifts you up and begins to carry you across the room. You support him by straddling his hips with your legs. You feel yourself get a little wet, but you can’t pay any mind to hit. With a grunt, he sits down on one of the black leather couches. Your chest melts against his and you adjust your face against his shoulder. He kisses your ear and sighs, “All right, sweetheart, tell me everything.”
You lift your chin to let out a long sigh. He places a strand of your hair behind your ear, waiting for you to talk. You peer at him, then close your eyes and shake your head. “Four midterms. That’s four too many, you know?”
He closes his eyes and gently nods. “Yeah, I know.”
Your head falls against his shoulder again and you let out another miserable moan. His right hand caresses the small of your back, while the left gently strokes your hair. You melt under his touch and begin to breathe steadily. “Daddy…” you whisper again. You feel him gently smile. You shift yourself to press harder against him as more boiling hot tears escape from your clenched-shut eyes. “God, I’m so sick of it. I fucked it all up, I just know.”
“Shh,” he purrs, lifting a hand to gingerly lift your head to face him. You can’t manage to keep your eyes open. His tone becomes a little firm when he says, “Baby, look at me.” Your weary eyes flutter open. You stare at him. His focused expression awakens you. He strokes your cheek with his coarse thumb and says, “You didn’t fuck it all up. You did your absolute best, and you did pass.”
Your face falls. “Doubtful,” you mutter, trying to lean into him again and die there.
He glowers, and his fingers clench your chin. You tense and widen your eyes at him. His other hand tightens around your hip, a mischievous little finger slipping down into your pants. A single shiver runs down your spine as he tightens his hands on your chin and hip a bit more to maintain your attention. “What did we agree on? About not putting yourself down like that?”
Your eyes flutter shut and you form an inevitable little smile. “No putting myself down,” you drawl.
He accepts it. “That’s right,” he replies, loosening his tight grip on your chin and stroking your cheek again. Gently, he pulls your head towards his and kisses you. His lips are warm, and he tastes like warm scotch. Your arms go around his shoulders, and you grab his hair between your fingers. One arm holds the back of your head, and his other hand slides down to your butt, and his palm rubs gently against the side. You find yourself grinding against his lap, and with each motion you feel him get harder and harder. You grin against his lips as he lets out a stifled moan against yours. He grabs your ass tighter with both hands, pushing you as you grind. He pulls his lips away and stares at you. A fiery lust burns in his eyes, and you begin to feel wetter. Your post-midterm misery is forgotten. Desire consumes you, and it burns.
You slow your grinding as you try to press down against his hardness more. You feel him right between your slit and shiver. “D-Daddy…I’m…I’m getting wet.”
“I bet you are, kitten,” he replies in a lustful growl.
He pushes you off his lap and lays you down on the couch. He slips his fingers under the waistbands of your jeans and your panties, his calloused fingers rubbing against the sensitive flesh hidden by the fabric. You tremble from your feet to your fingers and watch him tug your pants down painfully slowly. You kick off your shoes as he pulls them down to your knees. Your cunt aches as the cool air suddenly caresses it. You shiver on the outside, but on the inside you blaze.
He examines you carefully, like he would one of his machines or contraptions. You choke on your breath as you watch him past your rising and falling chest. “Wet indeed,” he remarks casually. You grunt as he slips your pants off. You go about to unbutton your flannel, but your hands tremble too much as he lifts the leg against the couch up and pushes the leg dangling to the other side out. The cool air embraces your slit. That and his scrutinizing gaze makes you wetter. You squeak and try to keep unbuttoning. You’re squirming, so he notices. He leans forward to do it for you, but his eyes are still on your glistening slit. “I wonder if you taste as good as you look,” he says at the last button.
He sinks off the couch so he can aim between your legs, tightly holding them open as they tremble and try to close to shield the cold. His warm breath distracts from the cold as he leans closer and closer, teasing you with the horribly slow pace. “Please,” you whimper.
He opens his mouth. His face disappears between your legs as you frantically squirm out of your flannel, exposing your cleavage under your undershirt to the cold. You fall back on the couch with the flannel dangling from your wrist towards the floor when the tip of his tongue begins to circle around your clit. You let out a shriek, your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets before they clench closed. Your chest squirms side to side and up and down as he holds your legs still. He licks you in delightful, skilled movements. The walls of your pussy tighten around his tongue. A fire begins to blaze in your belly, bigger and bigger with every lick and flick. He moans between your legs, sending vibrations up your spine. You grab fistfuls of your hair in an attempt to settle down your hands as everything above your waist continues to quake. His hands tighten around the flesh of your inner thighs. Your mouth waters and burning tears form between your eyelids. The fire inside you roars. You utter unintelligible things, until the truth finally comes out. “Daddy…Daddy, I’m gonna…”
“Mm…good girl,” you hear from between your legs.
Your eyes widen again. The ceiling spins above you as you gasp for air. Seconds later, you become stiff and hot as the fire runs down between your legs in the form of a hot, wet flood. Tony swallows it whole. You then melt on the couch, almost falling over. You catch your breath as Tony licks your juices off his lips and wipes the remnants on his bears off with his arm. You lift your chin to look at him, blinking. He smirks at you, and you nearly cum all over again.
“Thank you, Daddy,” you pant, your head falling back to stare at the spinning ceiling again.
His thumb strokes your left inner thigh before he stands up. He pulls your limp body upright and you take in a sharp breath in surprise. He tears your undershirt off and over your head. Once he flings it aside, he takes off his own shirt. When he tosses it away, he looks at you with a cocked eyebrow and says, “Oh, you didn’t think we were done, did you?”
You grin, wipe the sweat off your forehead, and catch your breath. “Of course not,” you reply. You shake your arms before clumsily unclasping your bra, watching him unbutton his jeans. He pauses once you throw your bra aside, your nipples hardening immediately in the exposure to the cold. He stares hungrily at you and moans, “Oh, baby…”
You feel yourself blush as you give a shy smile. He tears off his pants and stands up in a flash. You can see his enormous length pop out from the fabric for a moment, before he sits down and yanks you to face him and straddle his lap. With one hand, he rubs his cock up and down the entrance. With the other, he’s aggressively grabbing your tits. Both your chests rise and fall with heavy breaths. You hold his elbows and lean your head back. He removes his hand from your tits and holds your behind, pulling you closer towards his cock.
“Get up a bit, babygirl,” he grunts. You lift your hands to your shoulders and push yourself up. He lifts his hips so he slides straight into you. You let out a sharp cry as he pushes you back down onto his lap by your thighs. One hand then moves to hold your ass, the other to aggressively grab your chin again. He forces you to look at him, his eyes magnets. “Ride Daddy’s cock, baby.”
You grin and breathe, gripping his shoulders for more support, “Yes, Daddy.”
You begin to bounce and grind on him. One of his hands maintains a grip on your ass, while the other frantically moves around to squeeze your tits or to push your head to smash your lips against his. His lips move down to your neck and shoulders, sucking and biting to contribute to your pleasure. This position is perfect. His upright cock can penetrate you and rub against your clit at the same time. You cling to one another in a mutual, passionate blaze. You’ve forgotten that you’re an overachieving college student. All that matters in this world right now is that you’re Tony Stark’s girlfriend, his little girl, and you never want to be with anyone else again.
“I’m close, baby,” he grunts, gripping your ass with both hands.
The fire in your stomach that burned when he ate you out returns. You sweat and moan, “Oh—me too, me too.”
He grabs your hand and squeezes it. You squeeze back with everything you have. You encourage each other to release between pants and moans. He tenses around you, and in that moment you thank God for your IUD. He gives one final thrust into you with a grunt before exploding, and you follow suit with a long, throaty moan, squeezing his hand until you’re spent.
You nearly fall back, but he catches you and holds you against him, wearily rubbing your bare, sweaty back with his free hand. You bury your head in the crook of his slippery neck as you catch your breath. One of his hands rises to stroke your hair, twirling it between his fingers as he plants kisses on your jaw with his hot mouth. He’s still holding your hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. “Sweetheart,” he breathes against your shoulder.
“Mm,” you respond.
He kisses your jaw and smiles against your skin. He brushes your hair to the side. “Oh, you’re so perfect,” he moans.
“I love you,” you drawl.
You can feel him grin, as if it was the first time you’d said it. “I love you, too,” he replies.