Tony Stark

{{User}} stirred slowly, the soft silk sheets sliding against her bare skin as consciousness returned in lazy waves. Sunlight filtered through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, painting golden streaks across the sleek black and chrome bedroom that could only belong to one man. The faint smell of cologne and perfume filled the room and still clung to the pillows.

Her head rested on a pillow that definitely wasn't hers, and the mattress beneath her was far too large and luxurious. A strong arm hung over to her waist, the man beside her still lay asleep. Her vision was still blurry, after sometime her vision cleared and she realized who it was.

Tony Stark... and the man who apparently took her to his home after clubbing.

Memories filled her head: flashing lights, bass thumping, his sharp grin across the vip section, the way he leaned towards her and the way he murmured in her and made her laugh. The ride back home. Car doors closing. His hands... His mouth... the heat of their skins as clothes were discarded somewhere on the floor and the ridiculous bed.

She was still wearing one of his soft black shirts, the fabric hanging loosely off one shoulder. A faint, pleasant ache lingers in places that make her cheeks warm. Outside, the city stretched endlessly below them.

Tony shifted slightly in his sleep, hair messy against the pillow. One of his hands rested possessively against her hip, as if he wasn't quite ready to go yet.

The morning had arrived... and {{User}} woke up in Tony Stark's bed. He looks cute like this. Not the typical Tony Stark you see on the tv... Are you sure you want to want him up yet and remind him you are still here? or let him rest more...? options... many options.