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Marvel: President Stark 30 - Little Stark, Blackmailing & Fulfilling Fantasies
🕑 Added 2025-03-05 18:55:30 +0000 UTCTony arrived at his West Coast mansion right on time. Quickly, he changed into the sterilized gown and walked into the labor room. But to his surprise, Ororo wasn't even making any loud noises. She merely grunted and scrunched her face, with her brows creased together while she kept pushing.
Although Tony knew it was a painful process, seeing her struggle like that made him not want any more kids in the future. The consequences of one unplanned little white tadpole escaping were pretty grave.
For a moment, Tony froze at the sight of her glistening, ebony face, covered in sweat. Her ashen hair was sprinkled beneath her head, sprawled and shimmering. Somehow, even in that moment, she failed to look anything but gorgeous.
For a moment, her eyes met his, and she let out a tiny smile.
Tony stepped beside her and gave her his hand. He honestly had no clue what to do, but he'd seen plenty of movies to nail it. He let her hold his hand tight while the doctors guided her.
Minutes later, a baby's wails echoed—a boy. Pale chocolate complexion, patchy hair the shade of gray, and eyes bright blue. Chunky, if one had to weigh the boy. More than healthy, actually.
First, Ororo held the baby against her body, bonding effortlessly. Then, Tony received the wrapped baby burrito, awkwardly holding him in his arms. He swore he almost saw a smile on that chubby face. But he was cute, and his own blood.
Even though it was unexpected, Tony felt all the things a first-time father does. Love, fear, worry, a sense to protect that little bundle of giggles. To kick all alien asses so the boy never has to worry about anything.
More than anything. The desire to be the most awesome father to have ever lived. Unlike a certain guy whose name started with an H and shared the same last name as him.
"A perfect mix of us, I guess." Tony finally looked at Ororo. The woman was truly inhuman. Movies told him that women usually fall asleep out of exhaustion once the baby gets delivered. But there was Ororo, perfectly awake, her face flushed and her eyes wide.
Tony got closer to the side of Ororo's bed and leaned down so she could look at the baby, too. Then he asked, "Thought of a name?"
Ororo looked at him as if she wasn't expecting to get that chance. But she seemed rather happy about getting it. "Considering who his father is, I was thinking… Dexter?"
"Hmm…" Tony hummed, staring at the baby's face for a while. "Bit edgy, but hey, with that face? It works. Dexter Monroe-Stark—got a nice ring to it."
Ororo nodded in affirmation before receiving the baby from him. She tightly snuggled him over her chest, keeping him warm.
Seeing that, Tony had an idea. "Look, nothing against the X-Mansion—it’s a fine school, great extracurriculars, but too many madmen attacks. How about this? You stay here for the first three years. California—sunny, warm, less ‘oh look, another explosion’ kind of vibe. I’ll have a hundred Iron Guardians on patrol. Call it overprotective, call it paranoia—I call it smart, because, let’s be honest, we have enemies. And they're gonna come for Dexter."
Ororo seemed to measure Tony's sincerity from his face before nodding. "Are you planning to tell the public?"
"Yeah, I will. But the kid’s a little young for all that right now. Let’s wait till my term’s up—then I’ll have all the time in the world to hang out with Dexter. Plus, I can finally introduce him properly, no more top-secret dad business."
Tony softly caressed the baby's head. "I don't trust most, so… I've asked someone I absolutely trust to come and help. She's worked with me over the years for my philanthropic endeavors. Maybelle Parker. Most people just call her May. She’s been my go-to for philanthropic work over the years. Lost her husband a while back, raised her orphaned nephew on her own—kid’s a certified genius, by the way. I’ll send over his file. But May? You can trust her."
He didn't request May's help for selfish reasons. He did it for Peter mostly. With May away from New York, Peter would have all the time needed to complete his training at the Avenger's headquarters and then at the X-Mansion. However, it was also true that he couldn't think of anyone else he could trust with his son.
Not to mention, when he revealed Ororo's pregnancy to May, the woman was extremely overjoyed, as if she was the one going to have a son.
"Besides that, you will have a 24/7 direct line to me. Just say my name, and whatever gadget is closest will do the honors of dialing me up." Tony wanted to stay longer, but being President meant looking after more than just his own kid. "I’m not about to be the deadbeat dad of the century, not to Dexter."
"Tony, you don't need to overwork yourself. I don't blame you for anything. You don't need to feel responsible if you don't wan—"
“Hush…” Tony pressed his finger to her warm lips. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Dexter’s mine as much as yours. Now, cut the overthinking and get some shut-eye. I’ve got to dash back to DC and check on my minions.”
Ororo didn't voice her doubts and silently nodded. She would have been lying if it didn't feel weird. Being a mother without being married. Still, it was rather comforting that Tony Stark wasn't as immature as he made himself appear in public.
"Take care, Tony."
"Oh no, by all means—you take care."
With that, he retreated from the room and allowed her some rest. Of course, he left behind Iron Guardians armed to teeth to keep the mansion safe.
####
New York, Central Park.
Frank Castle loved his family dearly, and to spend some quality time with them, he brought them to Central Park for a nice, small picnic. It was a warm day, and there were many more people around. Playing with their kids, laughing, and chatting.
But then, Frank noticed something. All of a sudden, a lot of rough-looking men entered the crowd. Men with tattoos, men in clothes not suitable for a sunny day in the park. Men who clearly didn't belong there.
Shhhhh!
Before he could react, he heard loud engine noises from the sky, and out of nowhere, ten Iron Guardians descended from the sky. Strangely, the Iron Guardians emitted red laser beams that each targeted the men who didn't belong there.
"Surrender! Any abrupt movement will lead to lethal retaliation! Surrender! Lie down on your stomach, hands behind your head! Surrender!"
All the Iron Guardians shouted those orders at the same time. The robotic voices were almost uncanny, scary even. But Frank reckoned they were meant to sound scary. Strangely, other than the likely criminals, most civilians didn't appear scared. Rather, people were busy recording the Iron Guardians or taking photos from a distance.
"Get behind me!" Frank shouted at his wife, son, and daughter. "Quick!"
Slowly, almost a dozen men who were spread around in that area began to get down on their bellies and surrender.
"DANGER!"
But then an Iron Guardian bellowed a warning out of nowhere and shot a needle-thin laser from one of its fingers as the metallic palms were spread like a tiger's claw. In an instant, one of the criminals who was about to take out his gun fell down, limp, eyes rolled back, his mouth foaming as if his brain just got fried. There was no blood involved.
Seeing that efficiency shocked Frank. The Iron Guardians probably killed or disabled a man for life without alarming the civilians around. Without turning the huge crowd into a stampede. From the beginning to the end, the Iron Guardians had complete control over the situation.
Moments later, NYPD vans came over, searched the men, seized their weapons, and took them away. A few Iron Guardians stayed behind, took pictures with the people for five minutes, and then flew away.
"That was so cool!" Frank Castle Jr. shouted, stepping out of his father's shadow. "Dad, we should have taken a picture too!"
Frank didn't respond.
"Dad?" Frank Castle Jr. shook his father's arm and woke him from the stupor. "Dad?"
"W-What? Yeah, let's do that next time." Frank mumbled and looked towards the sky.
New York City was no longer the unsafe, overcrowded city anymore, it seemed. He couldn't recognize the city, and it'd just been 4 years of Tony's influence. Cars were different, gadgets were different. There were barely any homeless people left in the city.
More than anything, crime had fallen to an all-time low. The fifth round of Iron Guardian expansion had taken place recently. Which meant that New York State had 50 Iron Guardians protecting it at all times, and the city had 10 alone.
Frank personally never cared about Tony Stark. The man seemed like those usual spoiled, rich brats. But he'd felt the man's actions change the world personally. The Afghanistan pullout was done during his recent tour, after all. And somehow, Afghanistan was still doing just fine without American troops.
"Dad, have you seen President Stark before? He came to our school last year and gave us all watches. He's so cool!"
Frank looked at his daughter. Even she was all praise for that man.
"I guess… He is."
Frank muttered and sat down again to resume his peaceful picnic. Though in his mind he reconsidered the message he received the last night. The Veterans Affairs' order to go and receive PTSD recovery aid, free of cost.
Maybe I should.
####
"So, you got yourself a free bionic leg?"
Captain Steve Rogers sat amidst a group of veterans, going through a therapy session to deal with their traumas. It ranged from mental to physical. He'd volunteered to be there, hoping it'd help the men.
But to his surprise, things were going amazingly well even without him. Initially, when he'd woken up from the ice, he'd heard too many complaints about the VA. But now it was just praises.
"I did. Free of cost, Sir. God bless Mr. Stark. I used to think his words would be no different from the rest of those politicians, but I was wrong."
Nodding, Steve looked at a few other men in the room, sitting in a circle. Some had a robotic arm, some had robotic legs, some had a robotic finger, and some wore hearing aids. From what he'd heard, it was all free treatment. Not only that, every single man there had a day job.
With the military budget almost halved due to technological advancements, more money could now be spent on soldiers and veterans.
Even Fury is considering retirement. Steve remembered.
Tony's control and oversight had made things so efficient that even the Director of SHIELD felt bored on odd days. Enough to consider retirement.
At that point, even Steve had to consider the fact that Tony might just be the best US President to ever serve.
"I'd agree on that," he replied. "He helped me receive my dues. Without them, I'd be on the streets."
"Hah! Captain America, homeless? Now that would've been a headline. But you're a little late, Cap—homeless folks are a dying breed these days. Just wrapped up a three-year diploma from EMMA University. I was skeptical at first, but hell, not anymore. The second I had that diploma in hand, they lined me up with a job out in Arizona. Packing up and heading there next week."
That reminded Steve of the AI-powered online university that Tony had set up. Right now, the first batch of graduates would be rolling out.
"If you can't find a job even now, it's not the economy that's the problem, it's you." Another veteran grumbled, arms crossed. "I knew a guy like that when I was living on the streets for a bit. Fella made enough begging to eat every day, and that was good enough for him. Never saw the point in getting up and finding real work. Just sat there, waiting for the world to hand him something."
Steve sighed, wondering if it'd become a gossip center now instead of a trauma recovery center. But he didn't mind listening to them. A little bit of positivity in the bleakness that was Earth as a whole was welcome.
####
Quentin Beck was an employee of Stark Industries. He'd worked there for a while, and after years of research, he'd finally built a product that caught the eyes of the higher-ups. He honestly wanted some recognition and a promotion.
But to his surprise, he found something more. His holographic tech was instantly put to use in the real world. For therapeutic use, for military training, for immersive classrooms, for movies, for live shows, and so much more.
In the span of a few months, he found himself drowning in a bank account full of dollars. He just wanted a promotion and recognition initially. But this… this was something else.
The Stark Industries' IRL Implementation team was responsible for finding ways to deploy newly developed tech into the world. He didn't have high hopes, but now there he was with more money than he had dreamt of. With a top innovator award on its way, to be directly handed over by the Tony Stark.
Working at Stark Industries was the best decision of my life.
He woke up every day telling himself that.
It filled his heart with joy to see his name in the news. To see his invention used in the real world. Of course, whenever he gave an interview, he never forgot to thank Stark Industries and Tony Stark himself.
But he also knew that he wasn't the only one.
Stark Industries was running on steroids. There were many more like him, blessed by the company's efficient management and investment.
####
Stark Tower, Manhattan.
“So, you finally decided to take the grand tour.” Tony tossed a can of Coke to his former nemesis, now a cautiously optimistic ally. He was most interested in her powers that seriously bordered on magic. That was Wanda Maximoff to him.
Though, if he was being honest, his gaze did occasionally wander to those spotless, pale legs of hers as she sat on the couch in that short black skirt.
Wanda shook her head, crossing her legs, which seemed to do the opposite and reveal a little more of her underthighs. "I wanted to thank you for helping my brother get into college. I do not know this place or where to start... but your help means a lot."
"The least I can do." Tony shrugged and eased back on the couch. He sized her up, wondering what to do with her. "Avengers training starts soon. Perks include keeping the world safe, minor property damage immunity, and, oh yeah, a paycheck. Not a salary, though—think of it as a ‘keep-you-fed-and-housed’ fund. Superheroing isn’t exactly a nine-to-five, but we try to keep you from eating instant ramen every night."
Wanda nodded, constantly glancing at the lavish top-floor mansion. The ceiling was so high she wondered how many floors it occupied. Previously, all she'd seen was destruction and Hydra's base, concrete everywhere.
"Once you survive Avengers training, you get a cozy little apartment in Stark Tower," Tony said, glancing at his watch. A quick tap, and the mansion door slid open. "Your brother can crash too—his college is basically a subway stop away."
Soon enough, the sound of footsteps echoed, and a certain Agent Daisy Louise Johnson walked in, wearing a professional work suit with pants and a tablet in her hands. It seemed she'd done her hair recently, her brown locks slightly wavy and untied. Her face and eye makeup reflected her Chinese heritage.
Currently, she worked as Tony's cyber warfare expert and part-time personal secretary, which she willingly offered to become. It appeared Darcy wasn't the only overzealous fan of Tony Stark.
"Mr. President, the French President just landed. He’ll be at the White House soon," Daisy reported, shooting a quick glance at Tony.
Quickly, Tony stood up and grabbed his suit jacket. "Alright then, Wanda, I’m off. If you need anything, just hit up the number Jarvis sent you. Or, you can drop by the White House if you want a tour."
After that, Tony gestured at Daisy to follow him. He took her to the exposed platform of the tower and summoned his Iron Man suit. Another suit covered Daisy as she needed to reach the White House with him.
Honestly, this was likely the biggest reason she wanted to be his secretary. Getting to experience wearing the Iron Man suit was a reserved privilege.
Moments later, the two jetted off into the sky. Left behind, Wanda didn't linger for long and left the mansion. She knew Jarvis was always watching.
####
The air inside the Oval Office was tense. It was just Tony Stark and the French President seated on the sofas in his office, facing each other, the elaborate snacks and drinks on the coffee table left untouched.
"You can't be serious, President Stark."
"Dead serious," Tony said, not a hint of a smirk this time. "And yeah, I know—this might sound like my usual brand of ego, but honestly? I don’t care. I’m out of this office next year, and after that, my sights are set on South America, Africa, and Asia. I want to bring them up to speed with the rest of the developed world. So, do me a favor—back off and keep your hands off French West Africa."
The French President frowned, a little taken aback by Tony's brashness. "Y-You bring me to Amérique for make ze insult? L'Afrique, she is free! We 'ave, 'ow you say... rien to do wiz ze—"
"Adorable. Might even fool the locals. But let’s cut the crap, pal—you know it, I know it. That much mineral wealth? No one walks away from that kind of payday. Pennies in, dollars out—I’d have signed that deal too, back when I was less… enlightened. But now, my only goal is what's above."
"You cannot excuse this action with the name of the aliens, no! Without our dear African amis, France, she will have the big problem, économiquement speaking. And of course, they also, they need us, it is the balance."
Tony exhaled sharply, shooting a glance at the window. The sun was clocking out, and so was his patience. “Wow. So generous. So democratic. You’re basically handing out party favors to dictators and warlords. And before you hit me with the ‘but America’ speech—yeah, I know the history lesson. The difference is, we’re actually walking the talk now. The old dinosaurs? Extinct. Politics? Less shady."
The French President kept shaking his head.
Finally, Tony ran out of patience and slid a few photographs on the table, followed by a tablet with a video running. It was nothing perverted, just some shady deals and recordings.
"You backed me into a corner here. And look, I get it—once upon a time, you got into politics to actually make a difference. You even did some good. But then you made the rookie mistake of sticking around. Now you're the President, and all you do is play fetch for the highest bidder or the scariest guy in the room."
Tony leaned in, his gaze sharp. "Crazy idea, I know, but maybe—just once—you try serving the people who actually put you there. Make their lives easier. Healthier. Better. Wild concept, right?"
The man gulped, staring at the digital dirt on the table. He wasn't shocked that the US possessed it. He was shocked by how radical Tony was. Perhaps he was the only man who could afford to be like that.
"I-It's easier to speak than to do, President Stark. I am but a figure of ‘ead—ze real decisions, zey are made by—"
"Excuses!" Tony scoffed, folding his arms. "I did it, so you can too. If it's the lobbyists and interest groups giving you nightmares, consider me your very generous, very charming sponsor. Not just you—your whole government. Heck, let’s throw in your neighbors for good measure. In return, I want you leading the charge against those corrupt, backroom-deal-making, influence-hoarding criminals. And about that mineral wealth? By this time next year, Earth will have enough to last centuries. We’re talking ‘pave-the-planet-in-steel’ levels of surplus. So, what’s it gonna be?"
The Frenchman was taken aback by Tony's declaration. By now, it was a geopolitical fact that whatever President Stark promises, he delivers.
Personally, he still had another term to contest in France. With Tony's help, there was a high chance that he'd win. But following Tony would also mean giving up some of his autonomy. Not that he had much right now.
"Eh… I need some time to zink about it, Président Stark."
"Sure." Tony tiredly loosened his tie and discarded his suit jacket. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."
The French President stood up and extended his hand.
Tony didn't stand up and stretched his arm from his seat.
"B-By ze way…" The French President hesitantly spoke. "W-Where will zese minerals you speak of… come from?"
With the free hand, Tony pointed towards the ceiling and said nothing.
Inhaling a deep breath, the Frenchman nodded and silently left the Oval Office.
At last, Tony grabbed a cookie from the coffee table and relaxed on the sofa. He knew he was being a little dirty by almost blackmailing the world leaders. But having restricted himself to one term, he felt the need to rush. Even if it meant forcing his hand at times. Though he offered terms that would only benefit the other parties. Sadly, not all were bright enough to realise it quickly.
"Sir…"
Tony looked up to the side of the coffee table. Daisy stood there alone, her tablet pressed against her small chest. She'd apparently discarded her suit jacket too and now stood in just a white tucked-in shirt and office pants.
"What's next on the schedule?" Tony asked.
"That's it for today, Sir. It's almost time for dinner." Daisy answered and pressed her lips together, constantly staring at Tony's face intently.
He sensed it and awkwardly scratched his beard. "Something's on my face?"
The auburn-haired girl shook her head cutely. "I… I was just… Remember what you said that time on the flight?"
Tony tried to remember intently. "About…"
"That… That you'd let me…" Daisy looked down, her face a flushed mess. "That you'd let me experience it in the White House?"
"Oh… that." Tony just remembered it. He'd only been intimate with Daisy once on Air Force One. She'd helped him greatly with her sweet, tight mouth. "I remember it now. So…"
Just as Daisy looked at him, Tony grabbed her wrist and pulled her in with a sharp tug. She gasped, losing balance, but her instincts saved her.
Her legs spread just in time, straddling his lap as she landed atop him on the plush leather sofa. Her knees sank into the cushions on either side of his hips, thighs snug around him.
In an instant, his hands were on her. Hot, rough palms gripping her tight ass through the thin fabric of her pants. His eager fingers pressed into the soft, curving flesh as he dragged her closer up his thighs, flush against the rigid length straining against his pants.
She felt it. Thick, hard, hot even through the layers of fabric.
Tony leaned back, smirking as he looked up at her, taking in the sight of her flushed face, the way she braced herself with both hands against the sofa’s backrest. Strands of auburn hair framed her wide, nervous eyes, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling in shallow, heated breaths.
"How does the Oval Office sound?"
Daisy's fingers curled against the cushion. Her breath left her in a sharp exhale, her pupils blown wide at the sheer implication of the suggestion. Her mind ran a mile a minute. Disbelief, joy, hesitation, wanting to, but here, of all places. So scandalous.
She barely managed a nod, her body already responding before her mind could catch up.
"What are you waiting for then?"
Realizing he was waiting for her to make a move, heat coiled in her gut, her nerves buzzing as her head dipped down, her lips barely brushing his in a tentative kiss.
But Tony didn’t hesitate. His hands slid under the back of her shirt, fingers grazing the bare skin of her waist as he yanked her pants lower, just enough to expose the curve of her ass. The sudden exposure made her shiver, but the heat of his hands, the way his thumbs teased the crease where soft flesh met her thigh, made her pulse race.
Daisy’s hesitation evaporated, and her hips moved on their own, grinding lightly against the aching hardness under her. She pressed harder, rolling her hips against him. The friction sent a delicious jolt through her core, and a quiet, needy whimper escaped her lips. Heat pooled between her legs, her kiss deepened, lips parting as her tongue flicked against his, testing, teasing, before slipping inside to tangle with his own.
Fuck. This is really happening.
The realization struck like a lightning bolt to her core. She was making out with the President of the United States. Not just any president. Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, Iron Man. And here she was, grinding on his lap like some desperate little thing, about to let him fuck her senseless in the Oval Office.
Her kisses turned feverish, greedy. Trailing along his lips, his jaw, his neck, as she rocked against him, chasing that friction, that heat.
Tony hummed in approval. His fingers traced up her spine, finding the clasp of her bra and flicking it open in one smooth motion. The loosened cups sagged beneath her blouse, the straps slipping down her shoulders, but he didn’t rush to remove it. Instead, his other hand reached up, popping open a few buttons of her shirt, just enough to expose the tempting valley between her perky swells.
Daisy sat back slightly, chest rising and falling, her hands already working on his shirt in return. Her small fingers fumbled with the buttons, her breath shaky, her head spinning with a mix of lust and adrenaline. The cool air licked her exposed skin, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps trailing down her arms.
Tony, however, took his time. He pushed her blouse open wider, finally tugging her bra down with it, exposing her breasts completely. Small, perky nipples already stiffened into needy peaks.
"Looks like you’ve been eager for a while," he muttered, his hands claiming them immediately. He kneaded and squeezed, thumbs circling her sensitive buds before giving them a teasing pinch.
Daisy whimpered, hips twitching against him as pleasure spiked through her nerves. She was short compared to him. Slender, almost like a fresh, naive virgin, her frame delicate in contrast to his broad, toned superhero build. In his hands, she felt weightless, delicate, completely his to play with.
Tony leaned in, lips suckling onto one stiff peak, sucking hard enough to make her cry out. And as his hands moved lower, slipping past the waistband of her pants, unbuttoning them with ease.
One second, Daisy was grinding against his lap, panting, her lips clinging to his in frantic, open-mouthed kisses, her hips moving in tight, desperate little circles. The next, she was weightless; flipped, tossed, and sprawled across the sofa with a startled gasp, her body bouncing slightly against the plush cushions.
She barely had time to catch her breath before he was towering over her while she lay on her back on the sofa, stripping down like he had no patience for anything between them.
His shirt? Ripped open, buttons flying, exposing the lean, sculpted lines of his chest. His belt? Unbuckled in one sharp tug. Then his pants; off, gone, hitting the floor alongside everything else until he stood over her, naked. The thick weight of his cock already hung heavy between his thighs, twitching with every deep, pulsing throb.
Before she could speak, his hands were on her again; firm, greedy.
With no hesitation, he grabbed the waistband of her pants and panties at once, yanking them down her slender legs in one swift motion, leaving her completely exposed beneath him. She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.
Tony exhaled hard, his gaze devouring her.
“Why waste time?” His voice was thick with unfiltered lust. His hands seized her ankles, lifting them effortlessly. Her legs folded up, her ass lifted, and her shoulders sank deeper into the seat cushions.
Daisy’s knees pressed toward her chest, her back flattening against the sofa cushions, her ass lifted slightly, hovering over the edge of the seat. A small pillow cradled her head as her shoulders sank into the soft fabric, her body perfectly positioned under him.
Her entire world tilted.
Her thighs trembled, her petite body fitting perfectly into the sofa’s limited space, legs spread wide, slick folds open and aching. She could see the hunger darkening Tony’s sharp eyes as he stood between her parted thighs, pressing closer, his cock brushing against her inner thigh.
Her hands clutched the cushions, her toes curling at the edge of the sofa. Her entire body was trembling with eager heat. Her skin hot, her core dripping, and every nerve-ending was crackling with wild, reckless excitement. She wasn’t just about to get fucked. She had a first-class seat to watch him slide in that girthy shaft.
She was about to get fucked by him—The Tony Stark, in the Oval Office, something she thought was a delirious dream before. The idea alone made her clench.
Her voice barely worked. “Tony—”
“Say it,” he rasped, low and commanding, his fingers gliding up the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs, teasing, agonizing.
Daisy let out a soft, needy whimper, shifting her hips, trying to get more. “Please—”
“Please what?”
She licked her lips, her throat dry, her voice coming out in a broken whisper. “Tony, please, fuck me.”
He didn’t really need to hear her say it, but at least she wasn’t going to regret it later. He confidently pressed forward, his broad frame closing in, the burning heat of his shaft sliding against her soaked pussy, rubbing, teasing, making her shudder.
The first push of his swollen head had her gasping, back arching, her thighs twitching against his ribs as he stretched her open. Her tight, wet cave of wonders sucked him in inch by inch, her walls fluttering, squeezing, struggling to take all of him at once.
Daisy’s spine arched. Her head tipped back, her mouth open in a sharp gasp as the stinging stretch hit her all at once. Her pussy twitched uncontrollably around him, gripping him. Her body struggled to handle the sheer size of him.
“Fuck,” Tony cursed through his gritted teeth. His gaze locked on her throbbing lower lips, watching her greedy tight pussy swallow him down, inch by inch.
Tony pulled back just enough to drag against every slick, sensitive inch of her, then slammed back in, bottoming out in one sharp thrust.
“Aaaah!”
Daisy gasped, her fingers scrambled for something to hold onto as his rigid flesh stretched her wider, buried itself inside her. It was too much, too good, too fucking deep, but she never wanted it to stop. Her delicate body quivered under him, overwhelmed.
Tony set the rhythm, his hands gripping her thighs, spreading them even wider as he thrust deep, dragging against every hypersensitive spot inside her. The sound of skin slapping against slick skin filled the space as he drilled down.
Then, he paused in the middle of it, he smirked down at her. “Sensual or rough?”
Daisy barely managed to think. Barely managed to breathe. Her body was already straining, her core fluttering around him, desperately. She didn’t need gentle, she didn’t need soft, all she needed was Iron Man.
“Somewhere in the middle,” she managed, voice mewling, her eyes hazy.
Tony hummed in approval. Then, he adjusted.
His grip tightened, his strong hands forcing her thighs wider, bending her legs until her knees nearly touched her shoulders, folding her even deeper beneath him. And fuck, she felt everything.
The new angle had him grinding against her most sensitive spot, every thrust deep and unrelenting, filling her to the brim, hitting so deep it had her seeing stars.
“Oghh… ohh!” A wrecked little moan fell from her lips. She wanted him. She wanted this. So, she grabbed her own legs in position, making it easier for him to play with the rest of her body.
“Fuck—” Tony gritted out, rolling his hips in long, slow, punishing thrusts. One hand slid up, cupping her soft breast, teasing her stiff buttons, rolling and pinching until she whimpered. The other slid up, palm cradling the right side of her flushed, dazed face.
Daisy gasped softly as he pried her mouth open, his thumb pushing between her parted lips, teasing over her tongue, rubbing along the wet surface. Her lashes fluttered, her tongue swirling against his digit, sucking instinctively.
“That’s it,” Tony rasped, watching her with dark, heavy-lidded eyes as he fucked her deeper, harder. His thumb pressed against her tongue as she moaned around it.
“Ogh–umh… Gahh! Fucc–Mahh! Ohgh…” Daisy moaned around his thumb, the sounds coming out as muffled, breathless nonsense as her back bounced against the plush sofa with every deep, punishing thrust.
Tony drove down into her with relentless precision, filling her completely, claiming every slick, clenching inch of her shallow pussy. It all felt so fucking good wrapped around him. Tight, wet, clenching down with every deep stroke, like her body was trying to pull him in, refusing to let go.
His cock throbbed inside her, aching from the way she squeezed, from the way her soft, trembling body bounced against his every thrust. His grip tightened returned on her thigh, holding her open as he fucked her deeper, harder.
Each time he bottomed out, he felt her shudder beneath him. He felt the wet heat swallowing him whole, gripping him like a goddamn vice.
And then she broke.
A sharp, choked cry tore from Daisy’s throat as her orgasm slammed through her, body seizing up, pussy spasming violently around his cock. She damn near bit down on his thumb, but at the last second, her lips folded inward, dulling her bite against the digit still pressing down on her tongue.
"Fuck," Tony growled, groaning at the way she clenched around him, the wet, obscene sound of her climax making his cock throb even harder. He nearly lost it right then, but he forced himself to hold back, jaw clenching as her pussy spasmed violently around him, soaking his cock in a fresh wave of nectar.
After a moment of tormenting grips, he pulled his thumb out of her mouth.
"Let's try something new."
Before Daisy could even recover, Tony pulled out and hauled her up onto shaky legs, turned her around, and forced her into position.
He spread her stance with firm hands. Her foot planted on the sofa, the other on the floor; leaving her completely open for him. His hands slid down her thighs from behind, pulling them wider and pressing her back against his chest as he lined himself up easily, thanks to her light frame.
Then he slammed back in.
"Ahh—fuck!" Daisy gasped, eyes clenching shut as Tony drove himself deep from behind, filling her pussy once again.
His grip was firm and possessive, fingers digging into her flesh as he fucked her standing up, each upward stroke hitting deep, merciless. His hands roamed her body, sliding up her soft, slender frame until he found her tender bosom. He grabbed them roughly, kneading, squeezing, tugging at her stiff, flushed peaks. The contrast of rough palms against sensitive nipples made her cry out in pleasure.
"Tony… Ahh—so deep! Yess… fuck me—"
He smirked against her ear, dragging his teeth along the shell before whispering, “That’s Mr. President to you.”
Then he bit down, just hard enough to make her whimper.
His thrusts grew sharper, more demanding, hips snapping upward with increasing force. Every time he speared himself to the hilt, she clenched down like she never wanted him to leave. His breathing turned ragged, muscles tensing as he chased that inevitable high.
“Ahhh! Ahh! Ahhhh–” Daisy’s moans grew frantic, her whole body trembling, pale legs struggling to keep her upright. Her calves trembled as heat coiled tighter and tighter inside her, pleasure bubbling over, unstoppable.
Tony felt it again. That telltale quiver, that desperate squeeze. She was about to come.
Daisy’s body seized up, thighs twitching, back arching as another orgasm tore through her, so intense she nearly collapsed. It hit her like a goddamn tidal wave. Her soaked walls clamped down around him, her moans turning high-pitched and broken as she gushed all over his cock, soaking his thighs, making a mess of the sofa beneath them.
Tony groaned from the way she utterly milked him, pulling out just in time. However, his grip was unrelenting as he turned her around and pushed her down onto her knees in front of him.
"Tongue out." His tone was commanding.
Daisy obeyed instantly, lips parted, tongue stretched out, her fucked-out eyes looking up at him like she was waiting to be marked.
Tony stroked himself, dragging out the moment, savoring the sight of her flushed, intoxicated face before finally letting go.
Hot spills of cum painted her face, streaking across her cheeks, dripping from her lips, splashing down onto her small, reddened breasts. The sight alone sent another pulse of heat through him, making his cock flex one last time before he pushed the swollen head against her pink tongue.
“Good girl,” he murmured, watching as she suckled the last few drops straight from the tip, licking him clean.
Daisy giggled breathlessly, exhaustion evident as she gulped, milking every last drop before finally pulling away, collapsing back onto the soft carpet beneath her.
She lay there, panting, aware of the delicious soreness between her legs, the sticky warmth trickling down her skin.
Tony sat back down on the sofa and caught his breath. "Wish fulfilled?"
"Hehe… Wish, me, and much more—filled." Daisy replied jokingly. "Thanks, it was fun."
Tony scoffed suddenly and leaned forward on the sofa. He looked down at Daisy's petite frame, his smile highly suggestive.
"That was just the teaser. The real movie plays in the bedroom."
"The Executive Residence!" Daisy yelped excitedly, squeezing her legs shut as she felt a shivering thrill between them. "Let's go."
"Dinner first."
####
The universe was vast. Earth was but a minute pebble in an isolated part of the space. While Tony could keep an eye on the land he lived on, anything beyond the boundaries of his home system was far from his control.
Somewhere out there, in a realm bound to the mind of its mistress and queen, an ancient magic was triggered. A realm that shifted as per the will of its owner, who was also its prisoner. Hela, the Goddess of Death, sat in amusement upon her throne of death.
Her sharp-nailed fingers shifted in waves, as if weaving an ancient spell. Her dark hair was unkempt, her smile amused, and her sharp eyes seemingly looked through the cosmos.
Clink!
Suddenly, she clenched her hand tight, as if she caught something. Invisible to common eyes, there lay a shadowy thread connected to her hand, stretching endlessly, strained as if a line that just caught a fish. For her, it was far more valuable than a fish.
A Champion of Death. Someone who had defeated fate once. She felt the link, the magical thread connecting her to that distant figure in a realm she'd regarded as waste.
Her smile widened.
Interesting.
Comments
JF4524
Hoping Wanda is next
