I do not own Tony Stark or Iron man; I just use them cheerfully with no thought of profitable gain except the drool worthy images of Robert Downey Jr. This was written very late at night while I was incredibly overtired, so if it does not make a lot of sense to you, trust me when I say it makes sense to me . I woke up really late with the title stuck in my head and ideas whirring around in my mind, I really hope you enjoy!
My Obsession with Tony Stark written by Tamika Stark
(Room 21 by Hinder and That's All by Michael Bublè)
I guess you could say that it started when we were twelve. The bastard pushed me off my tree. I received a broken arm and a sprained ankle. That was when I started to obsess with revenge. I was so not going to let him get away with humiliating me in front of my father. He couldn't get rid of the rotten fish smell out of his room until months later. A smirk of satisfaction still graces my cheeks as I remember that day. Looking over from his workstation, Tony shudders. Yes, he knows exactly what is on my mind when I smirk like this.
It isn't just about one thing. No, it's a bunch of smaller reasons why my breath hitches when he trails his fingertips over my neck or shoulder as a sign of affection, the way my mouth dries when he stretches over the car he's working on while wearing those jeans that grow taunt over his tight backside, and the way my life seems to brighten when he offers me that smile. I sigh as I type, offering him a tender smile when he looks over with concern. I think it is also how he listens to our seven-year-old daughter, Nim Llysbeth Stark, and how he laughs with our eighteen-month son, Hector Rae. It's how he tells Nim that the light on his chest is there for her, to stop her from being afraid of the dark, no matter how recently it decided to pop up. He gets that sheepish shy smile when he overhears her tell Pepper the reasons why she was sleeping in our bed that night. I watch as Nim asks him a question and he turns slightly to look down over his shoulder to her and answers her inquisitive question. He doesn't care that she was born out of wedlock all those years ago, and still doesn't care that we are not married in the eyes of my mother. He treats Nim like the golden apple she is in his eyes. It's in the way his hair curls down his forehead, giving him either a come hither look or an adorable visage.
Its how he stares at me, the cigarette smoke curling around us as he enjoy the night air and his intense look warming my entire body as he watches on. The way his muscles bunch and cord when holding on to me so tightly when the nightmares of that time get so bad it makes me want to cry with him. It is the way he kisses me; as if it is the last time, he will get the chance to show me how much he cares. He gets the haunted look whenever he puts on the gold and titanium suit and stares at me, as though he is begging me to forgive him for leaving. It's the way he gets when I welcome him warmly, even when he creates a new hole in the roof, as though he is astounded at the fact that even now I love him so intensely and am so pleased that he is back.
My obsession burns deeply when he holds me close, his face in my neck after we make love, whispering words that make me heat up all over again. It is in how he can stay up with me to the earliest hours of the morning, playing my body like the best instrument in an orchestra. Its how his arms move when beating metal, the sweat dripping down them slowly, initiating an unintentional seduction as I stare over my computer console, the suit diagrams continuing unnoticed. The low laugh rumbles through his chest when I just have to jump him. His dry self-depreciating humour makes me shake my head and still laugh with him when he begins to commentate on a charity gala about the grossly overweight older woman trying to squeeze into a lovely dress several sizes to small.
The adoration and awe spread over his face when I told him that I was pregnant with Hector when he got back from his imprisonment with that terrorist group. It's the way he came to me for comfort when his friend and role model went insane and tried to kill him with Tony's own suit, how he asked me so vulnerably whether it was truly his fault or not or whether there were signes that he could have seen to stop his decent into his personal hell.
It's in the way he tries so hard to make me breakfast in bed without the aid of Pepper and burns everything and sheepishly asks where he went wrong, or how the recipe was incorrect. It's in how devastatingly handsome he looks when covered with grease streaks (although I think that is done on purpose to make me yearn for his dominating nature in the bedroom.). It's how he knows when it's that time of the month and backs off cautiously, offering copious amounts of wonderful expensive chocolate before escaping down into his work dungeon. It's the way he holds my hand gently in public, never truly telling me how afraid he is of public speaking, but goes up anyway. It's in the way he goes out of his way for romantic gestures, always including the kids even when he wants me to himself. It's because of all the times he puts on Frank Sinatra late at night and dances with me in the kitchen, murmuring sweet nothings in my ear. It's because no matter how much he'll admire the opposite sex, he'll always come back to me and tell me that they have nothing on me, just pretty packaging and no substance.
Its just all those little things that he does that makes me want to cry and smile at the same time at his thoughtfulness and forgetful nature.
Its how he loves being a father and can sleep on the couch, Hector securely wrapped in his large hands on his chest napping quietly.
It's in how we can argue about a specific requirement in his inventions and he'll come back to me hours later, quietly telling me that I was right and he is sorry.
It doesn't help, however, when he reads my lamenting over my shoulder and smirks in male arrogance that unfortunately for me make me want to beg him to make my world soar.
You know, this obsession thing isn't so bad after all…
Read and Review. I hope you enjoyed Tamika Stark's obsession over her husband. If enough request it, I'll happily continue this as a story or perhaps put in Tony Stark's Complete Yearning for Tamika