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"Fifteen minutes," Pepper says, but Tony just rolls his eyes and keeps on going. He's not going to be late; he knows exactly how long it takes to get home from any given point. It's built into his HUD! Or it would be if he felt like displaying it. He can't possibly be late.

Anyway, the newest armor has too many fun little bells and whistles for Tony not to give it a longer-than-usual tryout; he's been itching to do this all week.

"Thirteen minutes. Do I need to put a countdown on your display?"

"Nope. I know how long it's been, thanks."

The countdown zips in from the left--12:48, 12:47, 12:46--and Tony blinks. "Huh."

"What was that, Tony?"

The thing is, this new armor's still on a network tether to JARVIS. And yes, Pepper agreed to monitor his systems in case of catastrophic failure, but Tony figured that just meant she'd sit down at the console and, who knows, read a book or catch up on work or something--there are plenty of normal machines in addition to the armor workstations.

But apparently not. "That's 'huh' as in, 'Guess you found the HUD controls, huh?'"


"That's not exactly what I had you in there for, you know. I mean, being late is not a catastrophic failure of the equipment--"

"I thought you said you couldn't be late." Another timer zips in from the left. This one lists off the time it'll take to get home from his current position, and the number's bright red, indicating that he is, in fact, already late.

"Okay, this thing where you're controlling my armor? It's a little creepy."

"You're just saying that because you know I'm right."

"I'm saying that because the armor has a lot of complicated systems." Tony shudders. It's a truism of security--if someone has physical access to a device, and they're sufficiently intelligent, there's nothing they can't do. Pepper has physical access to JARVIS, and Tony made sure she had full control capabilities on the armor before he got started. Nothing he can't override here, though.

He tries to switch off the YOU ARE LATE display. Nothing happens.

"Uh. Pepper?"

"Yes? Oh, this is an interesting equipment designation. What exactly is the D-seventeen-D-zero system? I think that's new, isn't it?"

Shiiiiiiit shit shit shit shit. "Um, that's, uh."

"D-seventeen-D-zero... D-17-D-0... D17D0..." He can pretty much hear her figuring out that oh-so-clever bit of l33tsp34k he built into his systems. He stops on a dime and punches it, heading home at top speed.

"Nice," she says. "Look at that--you're getting a lot more speed out of the armor than you anticipated. You might just be a little late."

The countdown's down to four minutes. Tony feels something moving against his ass--no, he doesn't, no he doesn't, it's just his imagination. Three minutes, and is something moving the zipper on his jumpsuit down? Two minutes, and--oh, hey, the magnetic zipper pull worked perfectly, something is moving it, and--oh shit.


"I like how this goes up to eleven," she says. "Oh, and there's a vibration control."

"I'm less than sixty seconds from home."

"You're still late, though."

"Forty seconds! Please!"

"We'll just start it on one, shall we?"

Tony yelps out loud when the D17D0 pushes against his ass, carefully moving down until it finds his asshole. He knows how it works--he built the damn thing into the suit in the first place--and so when the slightly-bulbous portion emits a thin coating of lubricant, he can't actually pretend to be surprised. At least he got the temperature right; the lubricant's supposed to come out at two degrees above Tony's current monitored body temperature.

So the D17D0 isn't cold when it starts moving into his ass. But holy shit, his eyes were bigger than his asshole here, because it is fucking huge.

"Pepper," Tony groans, "I'm gonna miss the entry tunnel--"

"My systems are all saying your suit dildo hit the entry tunnel just fine."

"I hate you, I hate you so much--" Tony makes it to the entry tunnel--of his house--and bangs off the wall, the ceiling, and the floor as he comes out into the workshop. He spins around a full 360 degrees on the floor, flat on his stomach, and when it's over, he lies there spread-eagled. The suit's fine. He's just distracted, that's all. Legitimately fucking distracted, pun intended.

Pepper's over at the console; Tony lifts his head to see her and forces the front flap of his helmet open. "I'm here," he pants. "Turn the thing off? Please?"

"Hmm... no." Pepper pushes a couple of buttons, and the D17D0 moves in harder. Deeper. It stretches him open even wider, and Tony groans, getting used to the feeling. It's a much more rigid silicone than most of his dildos, since it's meant to survive, well, being carried around in the armor, and it's really, really big. Really big. As it moves in another inch, Tony flashes back to designing the fucking thing (pun still intended) and deciding that nah, what point was there in stopping at six inches, or even eight?

He's breaking out into a sweat now. "Pepper."

"Activate voice command," Pepper says to JARVIS.

"Voice command active," JARVIS says, the traitorous little son of a punch card. But now Pepper's walking over to Tony, helping him get the helmet off altogether. Tony can't really move right now, or he'd have gotten it off himself. He just ends up lying there while Pepper strokes her fingers through his hair.

"What do you think? A little much?"

"Uh--I mean..."

"D17D0 system: ninety degrees horizontal rotation, clockwise then counter-clockwise, at a rate of... what do you think, Tony? Forty-five degrees a second?"

"You could just say 'sit on this and spin'," Tony gasps. "Be faster."

Pepper smirks down at him. "Forty-five degrees a second," she tells JARVIS. "Starting now."

The twisting motion feels amazing. Tony's stuck between being proud of the invention and really, really wanting to fire Pepper. Well, not actually fire her. Actually, he probably owes her a bonus for this. But still.

"D17D0 system: halt rotation, resume forward-and-backward motion, escalating pace."

"In other words, 'fuck you, Mr. Stark'."

"Oh, as if you put a dildo in your armor because you didn't plan to use it."

"Beside the--nnnngh, oh, fuck..."

"Beside the point?" Pepper supplies. She strokes her fingers through his hair again. "You know what would be really hot right now?"

Tony boggles at her. "You don't--oh, ungh--think this is hot?"

She laughs. "Okay, yes, having you trapped in the armor and watching while it fucks you is hot."

"Thank you! Jesus!"

"Was that to me or the suit?"

Tony doesn't dignify that with an answer, partly because the D17D0 is starting to feel even more amazing. Escalating pace. That was a brilliant command to build in, if he says so himself.

"You know what would be hot?" Pepper murmurs. She gets her fingers into his hair and tugs lightly. "You on all fours while the armor fucks you."

"I, I, ahh, yes, oh--" Tony licks his lips but has to shake his head gently. "Can't move. Nnnn."

"Oh, sweetie. The armor can move." Tony squirms against the D17D0--it's so close to hitting the right spot, really close--but then Pepper's talking again. "JARVIS, override armor positioning: reposition in bitilasana."

"In what?"

The armor starts moving, and sure enough, it puts Tony on all fours. JARVIS has a helpful answer, of course. "Bitilasana is a yoga pose also informally known as cow pose."

"Don't milk me," Tony pants to Pepper. Pepper laughs and runs her hand over the armor, all the way down Tony's shoulder to his ass. In this position, the D17D0's really starting to feel deep--it pushes in harder and harder, really nailing him--maybe having such a big one wasn't a bad idea after all. "Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck--"

"D17D0 system: give him level eight."

That's it, that's perfect--Tony groans and does his best to shove back against the thrusts, which are--which are really goddamned amazing, this was the best idea, this was the best idea ever, oh God--

"I hope you have cleanup protocols," Pepper says, and Tony's head snaps up to look at her. "Oh. Oh, Tony..."

"Wasn't," Tony pants, "thinking... that far... ahead..."

"Will it short anything out?"

He has to think about it, which is not easy when his armor's shoving into him like a biker in the back of a leather bar. "Nnn--simple organic--compound, shouldn't--shouldn't--fuuuuuuck, God, yes yes yes it's fine it's fine--"

"Okay," Pepper says. She sits down next to him and sweeps his hair back off his face, then leans in and presses her lips to his cheek. "So come."

If Tony could move a muscle, he'd probably flail right now--yes, he wants to come, of course he wants to come, that damn D17D0 is moving hard and fast and it's rigid to the point of hurting--but in just the right way. He closes his eyes and thinks about Pepper's lips on his cheek, about her voice telling him to do it, and--oh God oh God there there there, yes, he comes in a hot, damp rush right into the jumpsuit, the wetness collecting at his belly.

"D17D0 system: halt operations and disengage."

The D17D0 pulls back, mercifully pulls back, and Tony sags against the armor. "Oh my God," he groans. "Can I lie down now?"

"JARVIS, set armor positioning back to manual control."

Tony slumps into the ground, armor flattening out with a loud clang. "Little warning next time?"

"Oh, you think there's going to be a next time?"

"Please tell me there's going to be a next time."

Pepper chuckles and scratches her fingernails through the hair at the nape of Tony's neck. "Okay, sweetheart. There can be a next time."