Well, since you said no to the fake relationship au (crying in a corner), can you please do a meeting at a masquerade ball au? Pretty please? Ps: follow you for some time now, i love you writing 🥰
i’ve written a few fake dating fics! (here & here)
thank you for this prompt, i really enjoyed writing it. i hope you like it!
a shift in the light, E, 2.1k | “masquerade ball” + stony bingo prompt fill “light bondage ” | on ao3
The suit feels too tight, and the mask cuts off his periphery. This was supposed to be a simple recon mission, but they hadn’t told him about the mask until the last minute and now Steve wants nothing else than to rip the damn thing off himself and everyone else; how was he supposed to find anyone here?
Steve’s about to turn away from the party when someone catches his elbow. He flinches at the touch, fighting down the instinct to throw whoever it is to the floor.
“Looking for someone?” The man asks. He’s wearing a gold mask cut just above his cheekbones, highlighting the tan of his skin and the brightness of his piercing eyes.
“No,” Steve replies gruffly, feeling a little off-balance, all of the sudden.
“Pity,” the man says, “I imagined you were looking for someone to dance with.”
Something about him stirs faint recognition in Steve, but he can’t seem to put his finger on it. It makes him want to know more, so he takes a second to steady himself before saying: “Are you offering?”
The man’s smile is dazzling. “Why, yes I am, darling.”
He offers his hand to Steve’s, and in the moment between standing at the precipice of the crowd and stepping onto the dancefloor, Steve begins to put together who the man could be.
“Shall I lead?” The man asks, though not seemingly expecting an answer, if his hand on Steve’s waist is anything to go by. Steve doesn’t even have time to disagree before he’s swept into a waltz.
“You’re excellent at following,” the man says, just as Steve turns his head away as they move. “I didn’t expect that.”
Steve nearly falters when he glances at the man, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.
Tony. It had to be Tony.
Over the swell of the violins, Steve tried to steady his heartbeat—why was Tony here? Did Tony know that it was him behind the mask? What was he going to do about it?
As if sensing Steve drifting off, Tony pushed their chests closer together. “Were you thinking of leaving, before I asked you to dance?”
“I think I asked you,” Steve says, looking away from Tony despite feeling the weight of his gaze. Steve could feel every point of contact between them hot as a brand, but didn’t know what to do with that. He’d never dreamed of acting on the attraction he’d felt, they were teammates, and if his own history was anything to go by, there was never anything good that came with shitting where you slept. But the look Tony had given him earlier was hungry, wanting, and if Tony didn’t know Steve was under the mask, then maybe...
It seemed like Steve wasn’t the only one in the ballroom casting away inhibitions because of their disguises; already he’d spotted a few couples standing close, and some were already kissing and leading each other out of the room.
“You did,” Tony says, snapping Steve back to attention. The song ended and Tony bowed to him, and Steve fought back a flush. “Well, darling. How would you feel if I asked you up to my room?”
Steve suddenly felt short of breath. He knows he should just leave, call this mission a failure and go home, and pretend this never happened because it’s not like he has absolute proof that it is Tony behind the mask.
But then, there’s a bigger part of him that’s curious to see where this goes, and on impulse, he nods.
Tony smiles at him, wide enough to make his cheeks lift the mask slightly. “Wonderful.”
****
Tony pushes Steve against the door as soon as it’s shut behind him. Steve barely sucks in a breath before Tony’s kissing him, and any regret he’d felt in the elevator and in the hallway flies out of his mind.
Steve struggles weakly against him, surprised by the delicious burn of Tony’s beard against his chin, how different it is to kiss a man compared to a woman; harder, unyielding—dominant.
Tony takes the hint and guides them to his room, their lips barely leaving one another’s as they stumble through the suite.
The back of Steve’s knees hit the edge of the bed and he sits down. Tony easily sits himself on Steve’s lap without breaking the kiss, and Steve is momentarily stunned by the desire that takes over. He wants to be closer, wants to take Tony’s face in his hands, kiss his neck, to catalogue all of the differences because he knows, too, that this can’t happen again. Not if his life depended on it.
Steve cups Tony’s cheek and his fingers catch on the mask. He’s surprised by the sound of protest that spills from his lips.
Tony pulls away, a familiar smirk on his lips. In a practiced motion, he undoes his tie with one hand, his other flat against Steve’s stomach, pushing him down onto the bed.
Steve knows he could easily flip them over, take Tony’s mask off by force, but Tony’s confidence makes desire curl in Steve’s stomach. He wants to know what Tony’s going to do next, so he stays still and catches his breath.
Tony holds up his tie, the bright red silk catching in the yellow light of the room. “I could put a blindfold on you,” he says, licking his lips.
Steve sucks in a breath, and a strange powerlessness settles over him as Tony reaches over and gently undoes the knot holding Steve’s mask in place. Steve’s eyes flutter shut on their own volition, and he blinks them back open as he feels Tony’s fingers against his cheek.
“Why should you be allowed to see me, but I can’t see you?” Steve asks, wrapping one hand around Tony’s wrist, holding his mask in place.
Tony tilts his head, assessing him. “Well, I can’t put the blindfold on with my eyes shut now, can I?”
Steve grunts. “And why should I be the one blindfolded?”
Tony moves his hand and strokes Steve’s cheek with his thumb. “I had a feeling you wanted it.”
Steve lets go of Tony’s wrist, and takes the tie from him. “Close your eyes,” Steve says. “I’ll do it myself.”
Steve can see Tony bite back a smile, but he shuts his eyes anyway. Steve pushes himself up on his elbows and fumbles a little, but does a good enough job fitting the tie around his eyes.
“Done,” he says, sinking back down on the bed. “What now?”
Steve reaches out instinctively when he feels Tony get off his lap.
“That depends entirely on you, darling. Are you going to be a good boy for me?”
A fresh wave of heat washes over Steve, and he moves blindly as he tries to find Tony; already, he misses his touch, and craves the reassurance of his body against his.
“Undress for me,” Tony commands, and Steve’s breath catches in his throat.
“Only if you do the same.”
“You’re under the impression that you can make demands of me.” Tony’s voice is closer, and Steve can feel the bed dip on his right side. He gasps when Tony grabs his chin and turns his head. “Whatever shall I do to correct that behavior?”
Steve gasps again when Tony grabs his cock, hard and straining against his slacks. “Now, undress, unless you want to be punished.”
Steve swallows, and begins unbuttoning his shirt. Shame burns through him, mixed with desire so strong he feels feverish. He struggles to take the shirt off, and his heart picks up when he hears Tony’s shoe tapping against the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, trying to move faster. It’s absurd—absolutely insane how immediate his need to please Tony has become his reality. He shucks off his pants and stops when his hands hit his briefs. “These too?”
Tony hums, and Steve moves instinctually towards where the bed dips, again. “Do you think I can fuck you with those on?”
Steve’s breath catches in his throat. “No,” he murmurs, getting on his knees and slipping them off. He sits back on his haunches in waits.
“Good,” Tony purrs. He pushes Steve back down onto the bed, covering Steve’s body with his own and making Steve groan at the touch. Even though Tony’s still fully dressed, Steve can still feel his warmth through the cloth, and the lack of sight makes him sensitive to every touch.
“Ready for your reward?”
“Yes,” Steve says, surprised at how desperate he sounds.
Tony kisses him—first lips closed and pressed against his, then Tony’s mouth parts slightly and Steve doesn’t even register it, doesn’t think, just takes the invitation as it is. Mouths slotted together, tongues slipping against each other and sending sparks down Steve’s spine. Tony’s hands are trailing up Steve’s flanks, up his arms, finally settling at the base of Steve’s neck to cradle his head, tangle his fingers in Steve’s hair, angle their heads just so.
Overcome with desire, Steve presses his body against Tony’s, and moves his hands from Tony’s waist to cup his ass.
Tony pulls away with a jolt and tuts.
At this point, Steve isn’t even embarrassed anymore by the whimper that slips past his lips.
“I don’t recall giving you permission.” The bed shifts, and Steve hears clothes rustling.
“Sorry,” Steve breathes out, desperate to have Tony touch him again.
“Darling, if I didn’t know any better, I’d start thinking that you want to be punished.” Tony says.
Steve lets out a choked out moan when Tony straddles his hips, the weight against his cock both a relief and a curse, and follows wordlessly when Tony lifts his hands up above his head.
Tony holds his wrists together and Steve makes a small sound when he feels another silky cloth wrap around his wrists.
“Do you?” Tony prompts.
“No.”
“Very good. Now keep your hands there for me, sweetheart.”
Steve breathes. He could do anything he wanted, but it feels so much better to be told—or, when it’s Tony that does the telling.
Tony grips his chin. “Will you keep your hands there and be a good boy for me?”
“Yes,” Steve breathes out.
“Yes ‘sir.’”
Steve takes another breath, trying to steady himself. “Yes, sir,” he grinds out.
“Very good,” Tony purrs.
Steve tries his best to listen for what might come next and can feel Tony shift on top of him. He gasps when Tony’s lips press against his chest.
He licks his way down to suck on Steve’s nipple and Steve bites back a shout, nearly doubling over and instead straining to keep his hands together and above him.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes, sir,” Steve moans.
Steve feels hyper-aware about every inch of skin that Tony is touching. He’s still clothed, but he’ll take what he can get: with his vision impaired, everything else is heightened. The cloth and steel feel cool against his rapidly overheating skin.
Steve groans when Tony palms his cock, begins to writhe as Tony starts moving his hand up and down his shaft. He’s desperate to touch Tony, to at least get his damn shirt off at the very least, and he shudders to a stop when he feels the cloth above him rip, just a little.
Tony stops as well, then huffs out a laugh.
He presses a quick kiss on Steve’s hip. “Good,” he murmurs, breath hot against Steve’s thigh. “I knew you could be good for me.”
***
The night had ended with Steve falling asleep with the blindfold on, right after Tony had fucked him into his third orgasm. When Steve woke up a few hours later, the mask was askew on Tony’s head, caught in his hair as he slept.
Steve didn’t know what to do with the tenderness of it all; Tony had cleaned him up, evidently, and his hand was resting on top of Steve’s stomach in a loose embrace.
He takes a deep breath and gently lifts Tony’s hand up, then gets up from the bed. His body is smarts in places he didn’t know could ache, and he’s wincing as he pulls up his pants when Tony wakes up.
They stare at each other in a moment that seems to stretch on to infinity.
Then Tony yawns and takes off his mask fully, setting it aside on the table beside him.
“Surprised?”
Steve sighs and fastens his belt. “No,” he admits. He looks up at Tony. “Are you?”
Tony smirks. “No.”
Steve knows he should leave, but can’t tear his eyes away from Tony’s gaze, intense despite the bedhead.
“Stop being dramatic and come back to bed,” Tony says, yawning again and settling back into the pillow.
Steve stands up a little straighter. “Is that an order?”
Tony opens an eye and looks at him.
“Well, soldier,” he murmurs, lifting up the blanket. “Only if you want it to be.”
I started reading marvel ultimates a while ago but i got to the actual incest and i just couldn't anymore but i still want to read about slime boy and his fucking talking brain tumor
me da igual si tu amor me compromete (steve/tony, set in a different country + balcony sex)
Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, explicit, 2.1k words of ults!stevetony in madrid on vacation and tony fucking steve on the balcony of his flat | on ao3
marvel bingo card fill for “set in a different country,” day 11 of kinktober: balcony sex
title translates to “i don't care if your love compromises me” and is from 'Yo x Ti, Tu x Mi' by Rosalia and Ozuna (give it is a listen it’s a fuckin’ bop)
***
“Coming?” Tony asks, holding his hand out to Steve’s, expectant, as if the weekend bag slung over Steve’s shoulder wasn’t enough proof of his agreement.
Steve blames Clint for the way he feels at the gesture, like a Disney princess—last night Clint coerced him into watching Aladdin. So really, it’s Clint’s fault for the flush in Steve’s cheeks when he takes Tony’s hand and says, “yes.”
Tony smiles, looking a little triumphant, which sends a thrill down Steve’s spine. It’s always nice to see Tony smile, after everything. Tony tightens his grip on Steve’s hand as they head towards the hangar, where Tony’s jet is waiting for them.
They spend most of the flight with Tony on Steve’s lap, trading lazy kisses and dozing, watching as the sky shifts from dark to light, the sun rising as they cruise over the Atlantic. Steve’s so enamored he doesn’t have time to feel a little embarrassed at how juvenile they’re being. They deserve it, really, and Steve didn’t even consider refusing when Tony flopped onto Steve’s bed dramatically and said, “darling, I need a vacation. Let’s go to Madrid.”
It’s almost evening by the time the land on the rooftop of Stark Industries’ Madrid office, and they take Tony’s private elevator down to the garage. Tony smirks over his shoulder as Steve gapes at the Aston Martin that Tony’s dumping their bags into.
“Come on soldier, hop to it,” Tony says, holding is hand out with a set of keys.
“I can’t drive on the left ,” Steve hisses.
Tony rolls his eyes, then gets into the drivers seat. “What was the point of the serum, then?” he grumbles as he starts the car.
Steve folds himself in, feeling very large and very awkward in such an expensive car. Even after all these years, it still sometimes takes him by surprise, how rich Tony is.
The tires squeal as Tony drives out of the garage, racing down Gran Via as he heads towards his flat. Steve spends the short ride looking out the window, appreciating the city in the almost-golden sunlight.
The car screeches to the stop and Tony hops out, and Steve’s about to call out after him about illegal parking when he sees Tony handing a few bills to an old waiter, the sign over the restaurant reading Chocolateria. Steve watches as Tony downs the espresso handed to him, and then strides back to the car, churros and a small take-out cup in hand.
Tony leans over the open window and hands them to Steve, grinning. “Best churros in Madrid,” he says. Steve takes one, dips it in chocolate, and takes a bite as Tony watches him eagerly.
Steve isn’t exaggerating when he moans in pleasure, the fried dough just coated in enough sugar, and the hot chocolate rich and dark.
Tony nods to himself, pleased, and begins driving again as Steve devours the rest of the churros.
“You researched,” Steve teases, as he’s licking the last bits of sugar off his fingers.
“Of course I researched,” Tony snaps, affronted. “I don’t have time to waste. I only want the best.”
Steve nods, swallows down the sudden lump that formed in his throat as he thinks: I wonder if I’m the best for him.
Fortunately, Steve doesn’t have time to dwell on his thoughts as Tony pulls into the garage of what Steve assumes to be his flat. It’s in the quieter part of the city, and there are vines crawling up the trellises of the building.
It’s quaint, which is far from what Steve expected. But the inside is all new, fully automated, which is exactly what Steve expected. They spend a few minutes settling in, and Steve takes Tony’s leave to take a quick shower as Tony makes them coffee.
Steve finds Tony lounging outside on the balcony, changed out of his clothes and wearing a robe as he sips his coffee as he looks at the city winding down. The setting sun casts everything in gold, and Steve drinks in the sight of Tony, easy smile on his lips, completely relaxed.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, words falling unbidden from his lips.
Tony looks up at Steve, smirking a little. “Flatterer.”
“I mean it,” Steve says, feeling much more sure of himself now as he crouches down beside Tony. He cups Tony’s jaw, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “I know we just got here, but…” and just like that, his confidence ebbs away, and maybe he’s being too much, maybe he’s—
Tony leans forward and kisses Steve, soft and chaste. “Happy?” he asks as he pulls away.
Their heads are close together, and Steve tips his forehead forward, resting against Tony’s. “Yes,” he breathes out.
“Good.” Tony kisses Steve again. He swipes his tongue against Steve’s lower lip, asking for access, which Steve is happy to give, parting his mouth open and letting Tony deepen the kiss. Steve ends up on his knees in between Tony’s legs, his hand sliding down from Tony’s jaw, to Tony’s neck, to the exposed skin of Tony’s chest.
Tony pulls Steve up and crowds him against the bannister of the balcony, the cold metal seeping through the back Steve’s shirt, making him shiver. Tony tugs him closer, making their teeth click against each other as their kisses get clumsier with desire.
Steve groans when he feels Tony’s length pressed against his hip, and groans again when Tony parts Steve’s leg open with his knee. Steve tries to push off from the balustrade, wanting to take Tony to bed, but Tony pushes against him, pinning him down.
Steve pulls away, “people will see,” he says, a bit breathless.
“So let them,” Tony grins, taking the opportunity to untie his robe and slip it off his shoulders.
Steve feels dizzy at the sight of Tony standing naked in the light of the setting sun, and Tony hikes up Steve’s shirt, hands splayed across his back as he kisses Steve. Steve moans into the kiss, and he holds Tony’s head in place with one hand as the other skates over Tony’s back, stopping to grab Tony’s ass and grind their hips together.
Tony’s breath ghosts over Steve’s cheek before he sucks Steve’s earlobe into his mouth, making Steve rut against him. Steve cries out when Tony bites down playfully. “Tony,” he groans, as Tony moves down to his neck, licking the tender flesh before kissing it.
Tony sinks to his knees, and Steve cards his hands through Tony’s hair as Tony pushes Steve’s shirt up with his nose, right before pressing a chaste kiss to the skin right below Steve’s hip. Tony looks up at Steve from under his lashes as he tugs down Steve’s shorts. Tony keeps eye contact as he takes Steve’s cock in his hand, parts his lips open, and sucks softly on the head; the last thing Steve sees before his eyes flutter shut is Tony parting his lips wider as he swallows down the rest of Steve’s cock.
Steve does his best to keep his voice down, not wanting to call attention to how his bare ass is pressed against the metal grate of the balcony. But it feels like Tony’s trying to make him scream with the way he’s alternating between taking Steve’s cock all the way until he’s almost gagging, building Steve up until he’s about the crest the wave of pleasure, and then pulling back, only to lick and kiss Steve’s cock.
“Please, Tony,” Steve whimpers, his hand aching from how hard he’s gripping the balustrade. With this realization he eases off, worrying he might dent it.
Tony hums around Steve’s cock, making Steve’s hips jerk forward. Steve bites back a moan as Tony’s mouth glides down his cock easily, now slick with his spit and precome. Steve squeezes his eyes shut and breathes heavily through his nose, trying his best to stay silent despite Tony’s best efforts.
But they’re all for naught; Steve’s eyes fly open and he cries out when Tony teases his hole open with his finger. Steve fights to stop his knees from buckling at the mix of pain and pleasure, his cock so deep in Tony’s throat that Tony’s nose is pressed against his hip, and Tony’s two fingers buried knuckle-deep in Steve’s ass.
“T-Tony,” Steve stutters out, and a shudder runs through him as Tony crooks his fingers inside him.
Tony hollows our his cheeks and picks up his rhythm, fingers pumping in and out of Steve’s ass in time with his mouth sliding up and down Steve’s cock.
Steve bites on his knuckles, panting as he wills down the urge to scream when Tony slides in a third finger. He’s sure Tony has neighbors, he’s sure people live in the apartment right across them, and he doesn’t want them to hear—
Tony lets Steve’s cock fall out of his mouth with a loud pop, and Steve sucks in a shuddering breath. Then, Tony slowly slides his fingers out of Steve’s ass.
“Turn around, sweetheart,” he says, standing up and lubing up his cock.
“Tony,” Steve says threateningly.
Tony quirks up an eyebrow, challenging. He taps Steve’s hip with his finger. “Bend over for me, darling.”
Steve’s mouth clicks shut, and he turns to face the city, elbows resting against the cool metal as he bends at the hip. Behind him, Tony presses a few quick kisses down Steve’s back, and he spreads Steve’s legs open wider with his knees.
Steve groans as he feels the blunt head of Tony’s cock pushing him open, and Tony’s grip on his hip tightens as he slowly inches into Steve.
Tony fucks Steve slowly at first, long drags of his cock in and out of Steve’s ass, letting Steve get used to his girth.
“You feel so good, baby,” Tony murmurs as he bends down lower, kissing up Steve’s spine.
Steve moans softly in response, his eyes shut and mouth parted open both in pleasure and to block out the view, a part of him still horrified by the idea of getting caught.
Tony snakes a hand around Steve’s waist, raking down Steve’s chest as he begins fucking Steve in earnest, pumping in and out of Steve’s ass and making Steve choke on his own moans.
It’s so quiet, Steve realizes dazedly, as the sound of Tony’s hips slapping against his ass seem to ring out across the rooftops. Behind him, Tony is moaning openly, getting louder and louder each time he buries himself in Steve.
Steve pants, breathless as he tries to keep himself quiet, his body beginning to shake with the effort.
Tony’s breath is hot against Steve’s ear, and his hand slides lower and lower down Steve’s torso to grip at his cock. Steve chokes back a sob at the relief, the beginnings of his orgasm pooling like fire in his belly.
“Come on,” Tony whispers as he tugs at Steve’s cock. “Moan for me, darling.”
Steve shakes his head, adamant that someone is going to hear Captain America and Iron Man fucking like teenagers.
Tony nearly pulls out, and slams his hips against Steve’s at a different angle, and Steve bites down so hard on his lip that he thinks he tastes blood; “I want them to hear you moaning my name,” Tony orders.
Tony’s cock hits Steve’s prostate with every thrust, and this is what makes Steve finally break, Tony’s grip on his cock, Tony moaning in his ear, Tony’s cock swelling inside him.
“Tony, please,” Steve moans, and it’s like a dam breaking. He moans, and groans, and cries out as Tony fucks him, spread out and wanton. “Oh God, yes, like that!”
Tony bites down on the skin between Steve’s shoulder and neck, and the mix of pain, and pleasure, and a little bit of shame, finally tips Steve over, and he comes messily over Tony’s hand.
Tony loses his rhythm as Steve clenches around him, fucking Steve with abandon as his own orgasm builds. Steve grinds his ass against Tony, moving his hips in time with Tony’s thrusts.
Tony sucks on the skin below Steve’s neck, then bites down hard as he comes, shuddering against Steve’s ass. Steve moans as he feels Tony’s cock pulsing inside him.
They stay in their position, panting as they come down from their high. Tony slips out of Steve with a soft groan, and Steve whines at the loss. They’re standing beside each other, breathless, and startle when they hear the door in the balcony beneath theirs open.
Steve drags Tony back inside the flat hurriedly, and frowns when Tony laughs at him.
“What?” Tony asks, eyes twinkling.
Steve rolls his eyes, dragging Tony towards the bathroom.
Tony tugs at Steve’s hand, stopping him. He leans in and presses a quick peck to Steve’s lips. “I just wanted everyone to know I’ve got the best boyfriend,” he says, trying to look sorry and failing spectacularly.
Lucky for him though, as his words make Steve’s heart swell.
“You’re the worst,” Steve says, before pulling Tony in to kiss him properly.
