#rdjr

[watercresss]

IRON MAN 2 (2010) dir. by JON FAVREAU

[thorspop-tarts]

Tony, watching Peter do something stupid: Harley, you're officially only the second highest risk here.

Harley: Hell yeah! I'm gonna—

Tony: Don't finish that sentence, you'll move back up.

[blog-of-agony-and-despair]

Being the Pepper Potts to Julian Dillinger’s Tony Stark..? Anyone? Just me?…okay.

Definitely a you fell first, he fell so, so much harder situation.

You started out as his PA, the woman he let handle the “boring” parts of being a CEO. You took care of his meetings, banquets, phone calls and emails. You made sure his best suits were clean and ready for whenever he needed them and showed more girls than you’d like to think about out of his mansion. You got him coffees and food and made sure he was safe on every flight and journey he took..

You found him attractive from the beginning- his tattoos, the confident aura that seemed to surround him constantly, his sarcasm..

You shoved those feelings down because why on earth would your wayyy too hot boss ever even look at you like that?

You’ve always been there for every single one of his meetings and events- supporting him just to the sidelines, cheering him on silently.

You celebrated his wins with him- and watched the way he handled his losses.

There have been wayyy too many times you’d go into your office the next day to find a beautiful bouquet of flowers on your desk or a new bracelet or necklace after he was a dick or after he snapped at you. Giving you stuff. It’s always been his way of apologising. And it’s always the same note attached to the gifts- “Forgive me. -J.”

And- as much as you do love the range of shoes you have now, sometimes all you need is a simple ‘I’m sorry.’ Just a good old fashioned face-to-face approach.

He’s always been..closer to you. Much, much more civil. You’re the only person in the history of his time as CEO that he’s let “boss him around” other than his mother, anyone else that’s even tried has ended up being sacked.

It’s obvious he trusts you more than anyone else- he’s always blurting things out to you, calling you awesome when you realise things he didn’t (before taking the idea for himself)

You’re the only person with a pass into his personal lab and office. You’ve always often found yourself storming in there to persuade him home to get some rest- especially after countless days of working with little to no sleep and/or eating.

He knows, deep down, that if he ever decided to hand the company over to anyone (if he got bored or sick of being CEO) he’d give it all to you. Not that he’d tell you that- ever.

The first time you officially became anything more than his PA was at a Christmas party.

You wore this..beautiful dress- and had heels on that made your legs look like they go on for miles. He had never seen you dress for an occasion like this- and you intrigued him.

He had slipped in front of you, blocking your view of your date, so quickly and so casually that it took you a moment to realise it was your boss stood in-front of you and not Derek the coffee guy .

You had stayed behind to clean up after his co-workers had drank, smoked and partied all night and he (for once) decided to stop and actually..help you- he was drunk and high out of his mind but..he stayed back nonetheless.

It was the first night he realised just how important you were to him and the company. And how attractive you were.

He woke up the next day with a weird sense of urgency to see you. He started to think about you more- and not just when he needed help.

He tested the waters between the two of you for awhile afterwards. A new flirtatious comment every now and then- unexpected compliments and comments about how “good” or “gorgeous” you looked..

He started..actually falling for you. Which scared him a little bit. He stoped seeing girls- started actually getting rest when you told him he needed it, admitted when you were right, started to respect you more…

He even said sorry to you for the very first time after getting stressed over a certain area project he’s been working on for years on went wrong yet again.

Eventually, he asked you to dinner, claiming it would be “entirely professional” with that smug smirk of his..

It stayed professional for exactly 25 minutes before you ended up riding him in his, very expensive, sports car- your dress (that he bought for you) pushed up with his pants pulled down to his thighs.

The two of you started dating very soon after.

Your faces were on every magazine for weeks after- it was basically NYCs biggest scandal. Billionaire Julian Dillinger- known playboy -falls for his PA? Who knew!

You became..the single-handedly most important thing in his life.

Ares was suddenly no longer just about being “better” but also knowing that if anything happened in the future- you’d be safe. With every click of his keyboard and line of code he finished, he thought of you.

The highlight of his day was no longer staying in his lab, typing away on his computer anymore. It was coming home and seeing you, in nothing but his shirt on his couch..

[amethystarachnid]

Omg thanks so much for opening the requests again!!💛 (and sorry for dumping my long ass requests girl😭) How have you been?

please give us an innocent & shy y/n and flirty-drunk-jealous tony drabble pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee TQ!

SHY READER & FLIRTY TONY STARK - a Drabble

(you'll find the others drunk/jealous in this post but scroll down, I wanted to try something new and divided it in parts)

Tony Stark notices you the moment you step into the lab—mostly because you trip over your own feet. Smooth.

“New intern or did Fury finally send a spy who isn’t obvious?” He grins, leaning against his desk. You turn red. Mission: Speak. Failed.

You mutter something about coffee runs. He tilts his head. “Uh-uh. Try again, Casper. Louder, for the people in the back.”

“I—I’m here to—to assist,” you squeak. Tony gasps, clutching his arc reactor. “A shy scientist? Illegal. I’m calling SHIELD.”

He nicknames you “Bambi” after you bolt out of the room the first time he winks. (”Like the deer. All wide-eyed and skittish. Adorable.”)

He “accidentally” sends DUM-E to bring you tools—every five minutes. You swear the bot winks at you. (Traitor.)

“Friday, play Careless Whisper,” Tony announces when you drop a wrench. You groan. “I hate it here.” He grins. “No, you don’t.” (…Damn it.)

One day, you snap. “If you’re this annoying, how does anyone like you?” Tony beams. “There’s the fire! Knew it was in there.”

You sigh. He winks. This might be a problem. (…Or the start of something very fun.)

SHY READER & DRUNK TONY STARK

Tony stumbles into the penthouse, tie loose, cheeks flushed. You blink from the couch. Oh no.

“There’s my favorite person,” he slurs, pointing dramatically. “You. Yes, you. The cute one. With the face.”

You sigh. “How much did you drink?” He gasps, offended. “Rude. I’m perfectly sober.” (He is not.)

He flops onto the couch, head in your lap. “You’re so soft. Like a… a cloud. A shy, blushing cloud.” You cover your face. Why me.

“Tony, you’re heavy—” “And you’re beautiful,” he interrupts, poking your nose. “Boop.”

He tries to whisper but it’s loud. “Hey. Hey. Wanna know a secret? I like you. Like, like like.” You groan. “We’re dating.”

“Exactly,” he says, as if this is groundbreaking. “Best decision ever. High five.” (He misses your hand entirely.)

You try to get up. He whines, clinging to your arm. “Nooo, don’t leave. What if I wither without you?” (Drama queen.)

“You need water,” you mutter. He grins. “I need you.” Pause. “…But water’s cool too, I guess.”

SHY READER & JEALOUS TONY STARK

You’re laughing at something Steve said—just Steve, harmless, platonic Steve—but Tony’s grip on his drink tightens. Uh-oh.

“Wow, Rogers. You really needed her to explain the WiFi password?” Tony’s grin is sharp. “Or were you just fishing for conversation?”

Steve blinks. You kick Tony under the table. He fake-gasps. “Violence? From you? I’m wounded.” (He’s smirking.)

When Bucky dares to hug you, Tony loses it. “Barnes. Hands to yourself or I’m donating that arm to science.”

“Why are you texting Steve?” Tony demands. “He asked for cookie recipes.” “…Captain America bakes now?”

You’re late. Tony paces. “Maybe she’s with Bruce—he’s all ‘calm’ and ‘listens’—ugh.” (Bruce, from the couch: “I’m right here.”)

A paparazzi photo surfaces of you smiling at Thor. Tony prints it out, circles it in red. “Explain.” “He told a joke.” “I tell jokes!”

You catch him Googling “how to be more charming than Norse gods”. (Spoiler: He already is.)

Finally, you kiss his pout away. “Relax. You’re the only Stark I want.” He smirks. “Better be.” (Mission: Secure the Girl—complete.)

[sciencebrosdaily]

arrivals.

The Avengers (2012), dir. Joss Whedon

[buckygrayson]

iron man (2008) spider-man: brand new day (2026)

[definitelynotaginger]

are you able to do a rdj story with the reader visiting him on set and them sneaking off (spicy) and possibly getting caught, because they needed him on set.

✨Anniversary Gift✨

A/N: oooooh Nonnie, you have NO idea how much I've been sitting on this one, it truly got me fighting demons. I wasnt sure at first if I wanted to actually do this about RDJ or an AU about Tony being an actor LMAO anyways, fuck it here's an 1.8K RDJ fic 🥴

PS: Can you tell I'm obsessed with Civil War? PS 2: Respectfully, sir, I mean every drop of disrespect hehe

TW: SMUT. PURE. FILTHY. SMUT.

The 3:00 AM call time usually felt like a weight, but today it felt more like an invitation. The air in the trailer was crisp, smelling of espresso and the sterile, sweet scent of high-end cosmetics.

You had spent the previous evening in your usual ritual of preparation, which meant scrubbing the shit out of your brushes until they were soft as silk and organizing the kit with surgical precision.

All for him.

The return of Tony Stark for Civil War meant the return of Robert. And with him came that familiar, low-voltage electricity that seemed to hum in the air whenever he was within ten feet of you.

You knew the ethics. You knew the ring on his finger represented a fortress of a marriage. But as you leaned in, the tip of your sponge hovering near his cheekbone, those professional boundaries felt dangerously thin at times.

"Gotta admit, I’m impressed with my own skills," you murmured, retreating a step to admire the grisly masterpiece in your favorite canvas.

A deep, blooming contusion of violet and mustard-yellow was taking shape around his eye.

Robert shifted, his gaze catching yours in the mirror.

"Holy shit, that looks hauntingly real," he rasped. His voice, still thick with sleep, sent a tremor right down your spine.

The trailer was getting a little too warm. Or perhaps it was just the proximity, the way you could feel the radiant heat coming off his skin. You shed your jacket, tossing it onto a stool, and pinned your hair up to keep the sweat from your neck. When you turned back, his expression had shifted. The playful banter was gone, replaced by a dark, hungry intensity. Robert licked his lips in a sudden dry spell that fell over him.

"Chapstick?" you asked, your voice betraying a slight wobble.

"Sure," he replied, his eyes never leaving yours.

You reached for the small pot of Vaseline, dipping a finger in. As you began to coat his lower lip, the friction of your skin against his sent a jolt through the room. He was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world worth seeing. Before you could pull away, his hands, heavy and sure, clamped onto your waist and hauled you firmly onto his lap.

"Robert!" You yelled by the surprising and risky action he had maneuvered you into.

"What? Tell me you haven’t thought about it," he whispered against your neck, his breath hot.

"But Susan..." you started, the last shred of your resolve flickering. This was wrong.

"Let’s say Mrs. Downey and I have a little agreement," he murmured, his hands sliding up under your shirt to find bare skin. No bra, a glint of surprise, although he could see your erect nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt, "And you happen to be my hall pass. An anniversary gift, straight from her."

Your lips smashed against each other in an urgent collision, coffee-slicked and tasting of the vanilla balm still on his lips. Robert didn't do anything halfway; he claimed your mouth with a carnal hunger that told you he’d been wanting this just as long as you had.

“Let me grab protection” he said in between kisses.

You gave him a hungry look “I’m on the pill and I’m clean” was all you managed to say between your heavy breathing.

His self-control got completely tossed out the window.

“Jesus Christ Y/N look at what you do to me” your eyes moved to his very erect cock.

His hands moved with a frantic, seasoned grace, tugging at the button of your jeans while you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer until there wasn't a molecular gap left between you. The vanity stool creaked under the weight of the two of you, a rhythmic accompaniment to the heavy, hitched breathing filling the small space.

He lifted you slightly, shifting his weight to find the angle he wanted, his eyes locked onto yours with a raw, predatory heat.

"You have no idea," he groaned against your skin, "how long I've wanted to ruin this makeup job."

His hands now were hooked under your thighs, spreading you wide open for him. Your eyes delighted at the sight of him, his tip already leaking with pre-cum.

He positioned himself right at your entrance, gliding the tip through your slit as he covered himself with your juices. A small moan escaped from you, your hand immediately flying to cover your mouth.

“Come on babygirl, don’t be shy” he cooed as he slammed completely into you. He didn't ease in; he drove forward with a violent, possessive force, slamming his full length into you until your hips hit the wood of the stool.

“Oh my god” you choked out, your spine arching as your eyes rolled back in a blind daze of pleasure.

Robert watched you, a smirk of pure, predatory pride cutting across his face.

“That’s it, let me hear exactly what I’m doing to you”

The friction turned to a searing, desperate heat, the sounds of wet slap of his body against yours and the low, guttural filth he hissed against your ear.

“Fuck, babygirl... you’ve been keeping this tight little pussy away from me all this time?” His hand drifted down, finding your clit and grinding into it with a relentless, circular pressure as he continued to fuck you senseless.

“Bobby…please” you sobbed out, your fingers clawing at his shoulders, your body wound tight like a spring.

Just as the world narrowed down to the delicious sensation that was the growing orgasm building up, the heavy thud of the trailer door handle turning echoed like a gunshot.

"Robert? Five minutes to—"

The door swung open.

A young production assistant stood frozen, clipboard in hand.

The scene was undeniable: Robert’s white dress shirt half-off, your legs wrapped firmly around his waist, and the "Stark" bruise smeared across both of your faces in a frantic purple smudge.

Robert didn’t scramble. He didn’t even look embarrassed. He simply leaned back, keeping one hand possessively on the small of your back, and leveled a cool, Tony Stark-caliber stare at the kid.

"Unless the set is on fire, kid, I suggest you learn how to knock," Robert said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, velvet growl.

The assistant turned beet red, stammered an apology that died in his throat, and slammed the door shut so hard the mirrors rattled.

Robert turned back to you, a wicked, unbothered grin spreading across his face.

"Now," he whispered, nipping at your earlobe, "where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

The sound of the assistant’s retreating footsteps faded into the hum of the air conditioning, leaving a heavy, charged silence in the trailer.

Robert didn’t skip a beat. His hands, large and warm, slid back down to your thighs, pulling you flush against him once more.

"I think we just gave that kid a story he’ll be telling for the next ten years," he chuckled, the vibration of his chest rumbling against yours. But the humor quickly melted back into that dark, focused intent.

He leaned in, his nose brushing yours, his breath hitching. "But I’m not done with you. Not even close."

The cool glass of the vanity mirror was a stark contrast to the searing heat of his body pressed against your back. Robert’s grip was iron-clad, one hand splayed firmly across your abdomen to anchor you, while the other reached down to guide himself home.

As he slid back inside you, a low, guttural growl escaped his throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated possession. You gasped, your palms flat against the cold surface of the counter, your fingers knocking over jars of brushes and bottles of foundation.

“Look at yourself while I fuck you,” he commanded, his voice a gravelly rasp in your ear.

You forced your eyes up, meeting his gaze in the reflection. It was intoxicating and illicit. You watched the way his jaw tightened, the way the muscles in his forearms flexed as he established a slow, agonizingly deep rhythm. He wasn't just moving; he was reclaiming every inch of you.

The purple "bruise" you had meticulously painted earlier was now smudged across his cheek and transferred onto your shoulder, a messy, violet brand of what was happening between you. Robert leaned forward, biting softly at the junction where your neck met your shoulder, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency.

"Look at how good you look under me," he hissed, his eyes darkened to a near-black in the vanity’s bright LED lights.

He sped up, the pace becoming frantic and carnal. The trailer rocked slightly on its suspension, the only sound the wet, rhythmic slap of skin and your combined, ragged breathing. You watched in the mirror as your head tossed back against his chest, your expression one of sheer, blurred ecstasy.

Robert’s thumb found your chin, forcing your face back toward the glass.

He wanted you to see the moment he lost control. His movements became heavy and desperate, his breath coming in sharp, jagged bursts until, with a final, forceful thrust, he shuddered violently against you.

He buried his face in your hair, a long, shaky exhale escaping him as he held you tight, unwilling to let the connection break just yet. The irony of the notification banner popping up amidst the wreckage of your professional composure wasn't lost on you. Robert reached out, his hand still shaky from the adrenaline, and swiped the screen of his phone where it sat nestled between a jar of moisturizer and a stray blending sponge.

“Happy Anniversary,” he read aloud, his voice dropping into a low, amused rumble that vibrated through your spine. He leaned his forehead against the back of your neck, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. “Best gift ever, don’t you agree?”

You looked at his reflection, the "Tony Stark" bravado had softened into something far more intimate and raw.

He turned the phone screen toward the mirror so you could see the text from Susan, a digital seal of approval on the beautiful chaos you’d just sparked.

"She definitely has a good taste for surprises" you breathed, finally finding your voice, though it was still a mess of raspy whispers.

Robert let out a sharp, dark chuckle, tossing the phone back onto the counter. He didn't pull away. Instead, he wrapped both arms around your waist, pulling your back flush against his damp skin, his eyes locking onto yours in the glass.

The smudged makeup on his face made him look like he’d been in a real brawl, and to be fair, in a way, he had.

"Now comes the fun part," he murmured, his lips grazing your ear. "We have exactly four minutes to get you presentable and me looking like a billionaire who hasn't just been thoroughly wrecked in his trailer. Because if we walk out there with you looking like that..." He trailed off, his gaze roaming over your flushed skin and swollen lips. "I might just have to tell the director I’m doing my own stunts today, because I'm not letting you out of my sight."

He picked up a makeup wipe, dabbing gently at the purple smudge on your shoulder with a wink.

"Work fast, sweetheart. I’ve got a movie to carry, and you’ve got a reputation to keep... mostly."

Tagging: @claudette13 @dilfsbaby @xskyleighx @ts-rdj-reader @geministarks

[cacrca]

He’s the most beautiful man alive 🥹❤️ my sweet angel ✨