#i love tony 3000 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

springdandelixn · 1 year

Text

With Flying Colors

Summary: Your excitement about being an intern at Stark Industries turns into a nightmare you weren’t prepared for.

Warnings: 18+ content, noncon, unprotected sex, bondage, manipulation, age gap (reader is legal), power imbalance, some use of drugs, reader is smart af but also painfully oblivious, not all things that glitter are gold.

Characters: Dark!Professor!Tony Stark x F!Reader

A/N: This fic is my entry to @ironlady1993‘s I love you 3000 dark! writing challenge 2022. I’ve chosen the trope Professor/Student with Tony and F!Reader. It has been such a joy to write this and to write Tony once again. Also tagging one of my babies, @fictive-sl0th

p.s. Belated Happy Birthday to you, my dear.

Side note: The Avengers do not exist in this universe—yet.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope you guys enjoy! ❤️

“See me after class.”

You swallow thickly and nod at Professor Stark’s words when he passes you, your head bowed down as embarrassment and nervousness mix within your veins for you’re the only one who hasn’t gotten their final paper back. You try to peek up, seeing the array of frowns and smiles on your classmates’ faces while they stare at their thesis, and you don’t understand why yours was singled out.

Seeing the professor after class, especially with Professor Stark, was never a good sign. You’ve once seen Maya run out of the lecture hall before, crying after he gave such detailed comments on her essay during the midterm exam. And you don’t doubt that you’re the next in line to receive the brunt of his tactlessness.

But you know to yourself that you’ve done your research right. You’ve cited all your resources at the back of the page and made a thorough review of all the points you’ve made about Vibranium. Yes, it was a big leap for a simple engineering student to study but you were confident with your work, and passionate even about how such an element can reshape the future.

So you just don’t understand why he hasn’t returned your paper.

“For those who passed, don’t forget that if you wish to enroll in my advanced class for senior year, application forms can be found on the school’s website.” Your professor calls as he makes his way back to the front. “And to those of you who have failed, forget about seeing me for re-dos or considerations. My office will be closed for such nonsense because my decision is final. Dismissed.”

Sighs of resignation resound throughout the room as the students pack their things and file out. You stuff your laptop back in your bag and stand, eyes looking at the door then over at Professor Stark while he stacks a couple of papers in his hand and stows them in his briefcase. You swallow thickly and make your way to the front, wishing to be one of the students to be leaving, closing up the chapter of this course.

You stand beside a desk at the front and wait for your professor at his table, hands fiddling in the pocket of your hoodie and feet anxiously shuffling against the tiled floor. There’s a subtle smile on Professor Stark’s face when he glances up at you, waiting for the door to close before he faces you completely, the grin turning full on his lips.

“Please, sit.”

You do.

He rounds his desk and leans against the edge, a file in his hands, the pages flipping against his fingers. You gulp hard, a nervous tick you’ve grown to have, when he looks at you once again, and you look down at the desk of the seat when he places the folder atop it.

“You might be wondering why I asked to speak with you.” He starts and you simply nod in response, the questions you wanted to ask dying on your tongue. “Well, I’m not here to scold you, if that’s what you’re worried about. In fact, I’m here to praise you.”

“I—I’m sorry?”

“Your paper, sweetheart, was the best one out of the entire class.” He nods towards the folder on the desk and you startle. Slowly, you open it up, and your eyes grow wide when you see the mark written in red at the top right corner.

You’re lost for words.

“You passed. More than that, you got a perfect mark.” You hear his smile and you can’t help but feel the corners of your lips slowly lift. You got a perfect mark! “Your research on how vibranium can reshape the future was very riveting.” He praises. “All your notes and the detailed analysis you constructed to make it respond to brain waves just blew my mind.” You look up at him, a wide smile now kissing your lips.

“I—I thought it was mediocre at best.” You confess. “I didn’t think—”

“But you did, sweetheart, and a lot of it.” He chuckles, his arms crossing over his chest and his head tilting to the side as he looks at you. “Although that’s not why I asked for you to see me.”

You blink, confusion filling your senses. Why else would he want to speak with you?

“Have you gotten a chance to find a place for your internship?” He asks.

You shake your head.

“Why not?”

“I’m only a junior, professor. I was hoping to get one next year.”

“But you are aware you can get one even as a junior, right?” He looks at you expectantly and you nod once again. “Perfect! How would you like to do a summer internship at Stark Industries? I could really use someone like you.” He beams and you gawk at him in disbelief. “Of course, it will be paid.” He starts once more. “The company offers its employees free meals for the day and some recreation to let off some steam from work. We can even provide for your lodging since the campus is pretty far from the company and it would save you some time from the New York rush.”

Did he just offer you an internship at his company? Stark Industries is known to be one of the leading technology companies in the world, which your professor owns, and he’s personally offering you a slot within his ranks. This couldn’t be real.

“T—That’s very generous of you Mr. Stark.” You fumble, the nervousness from earlier having already seeped out from your bones, leaving you stunned yet excited at the opportunity that is being presented to you. “I don’t know what to say, professor.”

“You can start by saying ‘Thank you, Mr. Stark.’ and end with ‘I would gladly accept your offer.’” He chuckles and you can’t help but mimic him, amused at his tenacity.

You want to think about it, to weigh the options you have in your hand. But you don’t really have anything to consider, you haven’t even begun looking for an internship. Yet, your professor is already offering you one, probably even the best one, and would you really turn away from the window? Out of all the students in his class, he chose you. Not Brandon who is a super fan of his work or even Alyssa who’s basically a show-off just to grab your professor’s attention. You.

And working for Stark Industries would no doubt boost your chances of finding another company that’s equally respectable. A big stepping stone to set your career on becoming an engineer on its course.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” You echo, a soft smile on your lips. “I would gladly accept your offer.”

“Beautiful.” Professor Stark grins, pushing himself away from the desk and walking back behind it to gather his things. You stand, all the same, picking up the folder with your thesis and tucking it between your arms and chest. “I’ll give the go signal to our HR and have them email you the details for your first day.”

“Thank you again, professor.” You thank him once more, feeling elated at the sudden turn of events.

He snaps his briefcase close and faces you. “No. Thank you, sweetheart. I can’t wait for you to join us.” He says, finishing off with a wink, chuckling at the playful act before walking with him out of the lecture hall.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you haul the final box into your new apartment. You weren’t really planning on taking up Professor Stark’s offer of free lodging but after being almost 30 minutes late on your first day and struggling to get into the subway during the rush hour, you caved and took on the perk, giving up your slot in the campus dormitories and packing up your things, never to see the cramped box space again.

And after seeing how spacious the provided lodging was during the tour on your first day; a two-bedroom unit with an open-concept kitchen attached to the living room, the master’s complete with an en-suite and a walk-in closet and even a balcony that oversees the New York skyline, you mentally cursed yourself for not agreeing immediately.

You could have saved all the time you used for moving and focused on your tasks in the company. Though you’re thankful for Professor Stark’s aid; giving you a couple of days off to pack and hiring movers to help you, though you couldn’t help but feel too indebted to him. Offering you the job and then helping you move, you’ll just have to pay it off by working extra hard on your internship. Prove to him that all the decisions he's made so far with you are worth it.

You close the door and begin unpacking the last box; some textbooks and sentimental memorabilia to decorate the shelves in the living room. You place a photo of your mom and dad on the side table at the end of the couch, a small smile playing on your lips as you think of how proud they would be of you once you tell them of your latest achievement.

One by one, you slide the books into place and stop short when you hear a knock on the door. Sitting the stack in your hand on the coffee table, you make your way to the front room and look through the peephole, your brows furrowing when you see a tall, stout man with curly hair, donning a tuxedo, on the other side, a bottle of, what you suspect to be, champagne in one hand and a bouquet in the other.

Who’s that? You ask yourself and let out a breath, unlocking the door and poking your head through the open space, blinking up at the stranger.

“Can I help you?” You ask.

He doesn’t respond, simply looking at you with a stoic expression yet his eyes seem to be judging you all the same. You want to close the door and hide but you don’t want to be rude either. Just when you’re about to ask once more what he needed, he holds out the flowers and the bottle to you.

“I’m sorry but you must have the wrong—”

“Compliments from Mr. Stark.” The man interjects, voice monotone and expressionless.

“Oh. Okay.” You say. Stunned. You take the gifts from his hold and your eyebrows knit in confusion when the man turns and leaves without another word, giving your thanks to the air instead.

You close the door with your foot and walk over to the kitchen to drop the items on the counter. The bottle, as you guessed, is champagne, and not the cheap kind either as you eye the label. Don Perignon. And the flowers, there seem to be almost two dozen roses in the bundle, leaning over and taking in its fragrance. Fresh.

You pick up the card nestled in the petals, carefully flipping it open, and recognizing the cursive letters of your professor’s handwriting.

‘Sorry I wasn’t there to welcome you on your first day, sweetheart. But rest assured I will be present to officially welcome you to the company. Have a glass of champagne for me. —T.’

You knew your professor came from old money—the history of Stark Industries is no secret to the public—but you never imagined he’d spend such things on you, one of his measly students in the university. And yet what lays before you is a piece of his wealth and you feel a slight sense of trepidation creeping up your spine if you were to mishandle such gifts.

Grabbing the bottle, you tuck it in a safe spot on the kitchen counter before rummaging through the cupboards for a vase to put the flowers in. Once you’ve placed the bouquet on the coffee table in the living room, you set back to unpacking the rest of your boxes, your eyes darting to the flowers every once in a while as the scent of the blossoms invades your senses and slowly fills the entire apartment.

The door beeps and slides open after scanning your badge on the pad. You’ve only been in the company for a week and still, the advancement of all the facilities takes your breath away. You walk to your desk, eyes blinking when you see a stack of folios ready for you to dive in. It’s not what you really wanted to do when you thought of your internship but it’s definitely something you expected.

All careers would render any individual to start from the ground up. To learn how the company works and how each department functions. And if you were being honest with yourself, you don’t really mind doing such a mundane task in the most prestigious company in the entire world.

Setting your purse on the desk, you take your seat and grab the first folio from the stack, determined to finish each one before lunchtime. But before you can even begin, a nudge on your chair takes your attention away from your task and you blink in surprise when you Professor Stark looking down at you, a coffee cup in each hand.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?”

“Professor—I,” You blink, words stuttering, still bewildered at his sudden appearance. “I’m filing the expense reports for accounting.”

“Yes, I can see that. But what I meant was why are you doing that?”

“Oh, it’s what Ms. Potts assigned to me.” It’s the truth but with the way your professor’s lips slant, you feel you’ve made a mistake by mentioning it. “I don’t mind it—it’s nice to know the business from the ground up.” You add, an attempt to soften any blow his assistant would get.

“But this is not what I wanted you here for.” His voice sounds serious and you scramble to get the coffee cup he hands you before lifting his watch towards his lips. “J, tell Pepper to find a replacement here on the accounting floor and to have her meet me in my office later at noon.” Professor Stark turns back at you, giving you a full smile, taking a sip from his cup, and gesturing for you to stand. “Come on, chop-chop.”

You do as you are told and grab your purse, following him out of the office and through the halls toward the elevators.

“Where are we going, Professor?” You can’t help but ask when he presses the up button, shoving a hand in his pocket as he sways on his heels while waiting.

“Why sweetheart, I’m taking you to the best place in the entire building.” He responds with a grin and gestures for you to enter the lift first when the metal doors part.

Professor Stark wasn’t lying when he said that he was taking you to the best place in the entire building for his lab was indeed an engineer’s, or pretty much anyone else’s, dream. His AI, JARVIS, greeted you as soon as you stepped off the lift, startling you in the process. Though you can’t help but feel amazed at how lifelike he was despite the absence of a physical form, for his voice alone exuded emotions and understanding, making you smile when he and Professor Stark began to banter playfully.

The hologram interface that scattered throughout the room was another feature that took your breath away. How the supposedly inanimate pixels suddenly come bursting to life with one flick of a hand from your professor, how he easily manipulates it, and from further observation, he’s got complete control of it with the help of his watch and a simple silver bangle on his other wrist.

He toured you around, showing off his projects that despite being incomplete, look immaculate for someone of your status. The robots that come following the both of you as you walked around the lab made you elicit a soft giggle, loving how responsive and lifelike they were with their reactions to each action done by their creator.

But what really has you standing in awe is the full metal suit laying atop a metal desk, with electrical wires attached to it from the ceiling and a holographic chart showcasing its readings on the side. You stand close, seemingly becoming hypnotized by its beauty. You run a finger against the metal arm, the cool surface chilling your skin yet weirdly warming you all the same.

“I call it Iron Man.” Professor Stark says as he stands beside you, looking down at the coffee cup in your hand when he takes it and discards it in a nearby bin. “A fully functional armored suit, furnished with the latest weaponry that I made myself.” A grin forms on his lips when you look up at him. “It’s currently under testing but still top secret so—” He places a finger over his lips and your eyes grow wide in surprise at the information.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Professor!” You blanch and quickly turn away, taking a step back to have the suit out of your view. “I promise not to tell anyone of—”

“Relax, sweetheart.” He chuckles and walks over to you, his hands resting on your upper arms, giving them a light squeeze. “This is exactly why I brought you here, why I wanted you to be here.” He says with a smile.

“Y—You want me to test your suit?” You’re not claustrophobic but the thought of being inside such a tight space makes your heart beat faster.

“Heavens no.” He laughs and squeezes your arms again before sliding his hands down the length of it and taking your hands in his, Professor Stark walking backward and leading you back to the suit. “I wanted to try and turn the suit completely into vibranium. I’ve tested this baby out so many times and don’t get me wrong, it’s very durable but after taking a couple of hits, it needs to go back into the shop. But with vibranium, this would be the most indestructible piece of engineering on the planet.”

“You want me to make you a full vibranium suit?” You ask.

“I want you to make it with me.” Professor Stark corrects, releasing your hand and giving the arm of the metal suit a pat. “Even more, to embed the element into nanotech and have it respond to a single neurotransmitter.”

You gape at him in disbelief. You’ve only known such a feat to be a theory and that each person that has attempted to create such a thing has done everything and still failed. Yet your professor is asking you to make one with him, something you’ve only ever read about in articles and have never even tested on your own. Hell, you’ve never even seen vibranium with your own eyes.

You look into his eyes, brown orbs full of sincerity then glance down at the suit. So much doubt begins to run around your head, the fear of failure creeping up your spine all the same. Deep down, you want to do it, you want to try but the lingering thought that you would fail at this project, fail your mentor, won’t leave you alone and you’d rather do the paperwork down at the accounting floor than mess up a top-secret asset of your professor, who is also now your boss.

“I don’t know, professor.” You sigh and pull your hands from his grasp. “The scale of work has only been theorized and the tests that have been done have all failed. I wouldn’t want to waste any resources you’d give me.” Your lips curl into a frown as you look up at him. “I can assist you if you wish but to be the one to create it? I don’t think I can. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“But I believe you can and you can never disappoint me, sweetheart.” He smiles at you, your skin shivering when he runs his fingers up your arms, hands gripping down on your shoulders. Your eyes grow wide when he takes a step closer, your bodies only inches apart. “I’ll be here to guide you and if we fail, we try again. And again and again, until we perfect it. And once we do, you’ll have your name written in the history books—well, with my name along with it, of course.” He chuckles and you can’t help but smile at his playfulness.

“So? What do you say?” He grins, his fingers tapping along your shoulders as he keeps his eyes on you.

Your university had once coined Professor Stark as one of the smartest people in this generation. And if your professor has such faith in your capabilities, maybe you are capable of accomplishing such an extraordinary feat. He’s there to guide you, either way, he said so himself, and if you do fail, at least you can tell yourself that you tried.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes to clear your thoughts. When you open them once again, you see the shine in Professor Stark’s eyes, the expectation in them.

You nod. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl.” He grins widely, your face going hot when he leans over and places a kiss on your forehead.

The act takes you by surprise, making you step back and have his hands slide from your shoulders. You look up at him, eyes wide, stupefied, yet your professor seems unbothered by his intrusion into your personal space.

“Sir, I’d just like to remind you of your meeting with Ms. Potts at noon and it’s already 11:30.” JARVIS intervenes and you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding when Professor Stark steps away.

“Thanks, J.” He says to the air, keeping his eyes on you. “JARVIS will keep you company while I’m in the meeting but in the meantime, make yourself comfortable, and when I come back, we can start playing. Sounds good?”

You nod instead, the words not forming in your head as your thoughts still linger on the unexpected kiss.

“Great.” He gives your nose a light tap, his nose scrunching when he smiles before turning to leave the lab.

You remain standing, still in shock at what happened but try your best to push such thoughts away. He just got excited. You tell yourself. It is a big project. Another attempt at convincing yourself and you move to look down at the suit once again before claiming a seat on one of the stools propped beside the table.

You hear JARVIS call your name, looking up at the ceiling to acknowledge him. “Would you like me to show you where the vibranium is?” He asks.

That somewhat makes you smile and you nod at no one. “Yes please, Mr. Jarvis.” And you stand from your seat, following the instructions of the AI, and walk towards the door that slides open, staring in awe as cylinders of the element stand before you.

The work finally begins. Weeks have come and gone, and all that you’ve ever come to know is Professor Stark’s lab, working and experimenting with various ways to produce the outcome that your mentor expects from the element. You’ve only been researching so far, testing theory after theory on how the element would bind with the nanotech Professor Stark has at the ready. But each virtual attempt has proven to be a failure, having you go back to the drawing board to start from scratch once again.

“Let’s take 5, sweetheart.” Professor Stark calls from the other side of your desk after another failed test.

You nod and slide from your seat, asking JARVIS to continue running some tests, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips as you make your way to the open balcony. You’ve been on the computer for hours now, codes and holographic diagrams being your constant company. You know that you’re missing something, something important to have all the pieces fit—but you just can’t find it.

The summer breeze of New York City is a welcome distraction as you step out into the open air. You look down from where you stand, seeing the streets busy and full of life yet the noises don’t reach you from where you are, the silence feeding into the tranquility that slowly embraces you. Even the view is breathtaking. The sun is already beginning its descent, orange and blue hues painting the sky, making the buildings underneath glow in beauty.

You take a calming breath, one that you think you desperately need to help clear your mind and bring you back to focus on the task you’ll be facing.

“Enjoying the view?” You startle when you hear Professor Stark beside you, his hand resting just at the low of your back as he leans his side against the railing.

You quickly compose yourself and give him a light nod, looking back at the picturesque sight before you. “I never thought New York could be so beautiful.”

“It’s what I love most about this place.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely though?” You couldn’t help ask.

“I have JARVIS and the bots with me.” He chuckles and glances inside his lab before looking back at you. “And now I have you. If all things work out, I might just make you my assistant.”

“Your assistant?” You blink in surprise at his words. “But everything I’ve been doing has been—” The words you wish to say face away when you hear a loud beeping coming from the inside. You look at your professor, the expression on his face equally surprised and you both make your way back into the lab.

The hologram by your computer has changed from cyan to yellow and you stand in awe as you watch the image playing before you, the vibranium slowly wrapping around the atoms and binding together before bleeding around the model of a human, successfully forming the suit.

“I believe your theory has proven to be successful,” JARVIS says.

“But—h-how?” You ask, rounding the desk to sit in front of your computer, looking closely at the formulas you’ve curated.

“I kept running tests just as you asked and took the liberty of adding the power to the stabilizer. Your equations are correct but the equipment simply needed a little modification.”

You scan the tests and sit in utter disbelief as the words of JARVIS prove to be true. You did it. Although with a little help from your professor’s AI, you actually did it! You can’t help the smile that slowly forms on your lips as you dwell on the thought that it was all because of your research and the theory you created that has deemed the project to be a success.

“What happened?” Professor Stark asks after, peeking at him from your computer. “What is J yapping about?”

“It worked.” You say with a steady voice as you stand from your seat. “My theory worked.”

Professor Stark moves to stand beside you behind your desk, his hands pressed against the surface as he leans forward to look at the hologram. A smirk forms on his lips and he looks at you, a glint in his brown eyes before he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him, tapping the side of your hip.

“I knew you could do it, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” You bask in his praise, feeling your heart feel full at making your professor pleased with your work.

“I wouldn’t have done it without you, professor.”

“Tony.” He says out of the blue and you look at him curiously. “When you’re in the lab, I’m not your professor and you are not my student. We’re colleagues.” He explains. “So please, call me Tony.”

“Okay—T-Tony.”

You feel a slight unease as his name rolls through your tongue. You’ve never called any professor by their first name before, thinking it to be disrespectful towards them to assume any sense of camaraderie especially if they didn’t welcome it. But Professor Stark did ask for it and you somewhat see the sense in his account, that you both are colleagues in such a setting.

“Say it again,”

You look up at him in confusion, your teeth worrying your bottom lip before whispering his name once more.

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart.”

“Tony.” You raise your voice an octave and blink in surprise, blushing intensely when he plants a kiss on your cheek.

“Good girl.” He chuckles and pulls away, leaving you stunned by your desk. “Calculate the time frame for the complete binding process.” He calls out loud to JARVIS.

“I already ran the numbers, sir, and upon initial estimation, it will take approximately 2 days.”

“Then I guess we better get to work.” Professor Stark grins in your direction, giving him a light smile before turning away to press a hand against your cheek, your thoughts running wild as you dwell on the sudden kiss.

You and Tony decide to take turns staying in the lab to watch over the stabilizer as the binding process runs its course. It took a while for it to start, with both of you modifying the equipment needed to be used to turn your theory into a reality. Even with the labor proving to be tough, it was but a small feat worthy to endure as you watch each progress bar glow in success.

You watch the moon shine brightly in the night sky through the transparent wall of the elevator, making your way toward the lab. You try to hype yourself up and prepare for the grueling 7 hours of doing nothing ahead. Though after your first watch, you decided to bring along your computer this time and catch up on some reading before you go back to university the next month.

JARVIS' voice makes you smile when he greets you upon your arrival, the double doors of the lab opening in an instant for you to enter. Setting your bag on the couch, you hum in confusion when you don’t see Tony inside.

“JARVIS?” You call the AI, walking towards the screen to check any changes in the progress. “Where is Professor Stark?”

“He was called for an emergency meeting. But rest assured I would send him any updates of any changes to the process.”

“No need for that. You can just tell him that I’m already here.” You smile up at the ceiling and make your way back to the couch, looking down at the bottles of energy drinks gathered on the coffee table in front of it.

“Mr. Stark says to help yourself with the drinks. It could help keep you up during the night.” JARVIS adds.

You give the AI your thanks and pull your computer from your bag, getting comfortable on the couch as you boot it up and diving head-on to the first reading topic you pull out for your senior year.

The hours slug by and the words on your screen begin blending with each other. You check the time and groan upon seeing it’s only 2AM, giving you 4 more hours to spend in the lab. Even with the project being an exciting and once-in-a-lifetime experience, you can’t help but find the wait to be boring. Yes, it’s part of the process but you think it would be more efficient to have JARVIS oversee the project himself and inform either you or Professor Stark of any problems that may arise.

You blink away the sleepiness from your eyes and slip the computer off your lap, reaching over for a bottle of energy drink on the table. You twist the cap open and take a heavy gulp, wanting the sugar to kick in immediately to keep you wide awake before your shift ends.

You stand from the couch, clutching the bottle in your hand, and decide to take a walk around the lab, hoping it would help to keep the lingering exhaustion at bay. The stabilizer seems to be in check, each progress bar ticking off as complete before another begins.

You do another lap around the lab, looking at the assortment of gadgets and equipment your professor has laying all over the place. The suit remains dormant on the steel table, lifeless and still yet looking all too vibrant in its metallic glory. You run a finger against its steel surface, amazed at its structure when a yawn forms at your lips, having you take another swig of the sugary beverage.

But your eyes begin to droop, your head feeling all too light that you make your way back to the couch, the plush cushions looking enticing as you drop yourself on it and lay your head against the armrest. Professor Stark wouldn’t mind if I take a quick nap, right? You ask yourself but before you could even debate for it to be a bad idea, your eyes close on their own accord, your mind going blank and the darkness completely taking over you as you fall into slumber.

You dream of flight. Your body light as you soar through the clouds, swimming over the skyscrapers of the city. A cool breeze brushes against your cheek and you smile at the pleasurable sensation that ripples through your body. Your arms are spread wide, a bird basking in the aerial domain. You look behind when you feel a tingle down at your legs and you see a streak of red and yellow breaking the peacefulness of the sky.

Then all of a sudden, something pulls at the pit of your stomach and you’re falling fast toward the ground. A sense of panic washes over you as you flail your arms, trying to grasp for anything to save you but nothing comes to your aid. You try to scream, hoping anyone would hear your cries but no sound comes from your mouth. The earth comes closer by the second and you close your eyes as you await your death.

You wake in a jolt, your chest heaving as you pant heavily, trying to regulate your breathing and grab a semblance of reality from the dream-turned-nightmare. The ceiling looks different and the couch you fell asleep on feels all too wide. You’re cold, a chill kissing your skin that slowly shakes you awake, and it's then that you finally realize that you’re naked.

“Wha—” You try to speak but a moan escapes your lips instead when you feel something smooth and wet lap against your soaking cunt.

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” You hear the voice of your professor echo through the room, fear crawling up your skin when you look down between your thighs and see his brown orbs staring at you, his lips glistening with your arousal. “Just as I’ve imagined.” He smirks and crawls up from where he’s kneeling, his face hovering over yours.

“Professor—” You cry and try to push him away, but such attempts are a defeat when you look up and see your wrists bound with silver restraints, the fibers glowing blue and purple with each tug you make.

“Sweetheart, I told you to call me Tony.” He whispers, grabbing your chin with his hand and pressing his lips against yours.

He slips his tongue through your lips and kisses you hard, his mouth devouring yours whole as he dominates you through the kiss. You try to move away, to stop him from his assault but you’re rendered helpless as his hold on your chin tightens, almost to the verge of pain making you stop altogether and allow him to do his lecherous act.

You gasp for air when he pulls away, moving your face away when his lips trail down to your jaw then to your neck. Tears begin to spring from your eyes as you continue to pull on your restraints. Confusion clouds your mind as you question how it has come to this, that your professor has pulled you into a nightmare you never saw coming.

“I’ve waited for so long and now you’re finally mine.” He mumbles against your skin, looking up at his blurry image when his face lingers above you once again.

“I—I don’t understand.” You whimper, wriggling against the bed when he pushes his clothed pelvis flush against yours, rolling his hips, the fabric of his pants rubbing against your clit. “Why a-are you doing t-this, professor?” You say in between grunts then yelping in pain when you feel a zap of electricity sting your wrists.

“I told you to call me Tony.” He growls and pushes himself up, your eyes widening when he pulls off his shirt, witnessing the contours of his muscles lining his bare torso. He then makes work of his pants, the soft sound of his zipper seeming all too loud as dread completely takes you over.

He pulls off his pants and kneels back down on the bed, hands running up and down your bare thighs, your arms aching and going taut from the metallic restraints when he grabs you by the waist and pulls you against him. You cry when he rubs the length of his cock against your folds, rolling the tip against your swollen clit which makes you whine and cry even more in turn.

“You ask why I’m doing this?” He echoes your question as he lines himself against your cunt, closing your eyes when he slowly inches the tip of his cock inside you. “Because I can.” He snarls and impales you in one swift move, a pang of pain surrounding your pelvis from his sudden intrusion.

You grit your teeth when he bottoms out, feeling yourself grow full from his size. You didn’t think he’d be big but the pain that radiates through your pelvis as your pussy walls clench around him tell you otherwise. He groans, his head tilted back as he stays still, allowing you to adjust to his girth but you have difficulty in doing so with your body remaining tense.

You try to push him away, flailing your legs to push him off but you’re no match for his strength. His hands push your thighs apart, pinning them to the bed, whining when he slides out of you and slowly thrusts himself back in.

He starts at an easy pace, watching himself slip in and out of you. But his impatience eventually grows, picking up the rhythm of his hips and you shut your eyes tight when he begins to fuck you fast and hard, all the same, your body jostling against the mattress, slamming himself against you at a brutal pace.

You close your eyes. You try to think this all to be a dream, some horrible night terror that you’ll be waking up from any time soon, but such attempts are futile when his hands begin to linger, feeling them clamp on your shoulders from behind and his hot breath fanning over your cheek.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart.” He says in between grunts, his face pressing against the side of yours, knees tucked underneath your thighs, shifting the angle of his cock and letting out an incoherent moan as you feel him slide deeper within. “Watching you in my class for three fucking years and now you’re here.”

You try to drown out his words, wishing them to be lies. He’s your professor, a mentor you’ve looked up to for so long. You did the work. You paid attention. You’re not the best but you’re also not the worse. And still, you don’t understand what you’ve done to garner his attention, that he'd pull you into this nightmare disguised as a dream when all you’ve ever been was a diligent student.

“Tony—please,” You try to beg for him to stop but the words drown in your tongue, turning into a reluctant moan when he hits that sweet spot hidden within.

Your body then ripples in desire, the unwanted pleasure filling your senses as your feel your body tighten. It shouldn’t feel this good, you should detest it but with each thrust he makes, with each rub of his pelvis against your clit, the only place you see going is up, soaring high as your arousal gradually reaches its peak.

Your walls tighten around him and he growls like some feral animal, his lips sloppily kissing your cheek while he whispers your name in staccatos.

“That’s it, baby—” He grunts, one of his hands releasing your shoulder and reaching down to fondle your swollen bud. “Say my name.”

You clamp your lips shut, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of his desire. But your wrists sting once more, making you cry out in pain, panting heavily as your heartbeat spikes both from the electricity pinching your skin and the man taking you as he pleases.

“Say it!” He repeats, punching the air from your lungs as he slams himself hard against you.

“Tony,” You whisper, his name sickening rolling against your tongue.

“Louder!” He commands.

And you give in, chanting his name, again and again, your voice and the sound of your skins slapping with each other bouncing off the walls of the room, filling your ears, filling your senses.

“Yes—” He growls, muttering nonsense against your temple as his fingers and cock work you in tandem.

The tension in your stomach builds and builds, the dam ready to break with each flick of his fingers on your clit and each pulse your pussy makes. The pressure he adds on the bud only pulls you higher into ecstasy and all at once you find your release, your pussy fluttering around his cock as you come tumbling down from the sky.

You feel him throb inside you, his words growing erratic with each thrust he makes. He then comes all together and you mewl when his seeds fill you up, coating your slicked walls. You lay almost lifeless on the bed, chest heaving, moans leaving your lips as he begins to give you shallow thrusts, riding out his orgasm and pumping every last drop into your cunt.

Your name tumbles out of his lips once more and you feel him go still, keeping his cock inside as he too pants heavily against your side.

“Tell me you’re mine, baby.” He whispers against your cheek, his hand leaving your clit only to run it up your abdomen and cup your tit, giving it a light squeeze when you don’t respond to his command. “Tell me.” He repeats with strength.

You let out a heavy breath, the tears spilling from your eyes once again as you try to form the words on your lips if only to please him, to keep the anger he keeps hidden within at bay.

“I—” You swallow thickly. “I’m yours.”

You stand at the side of the stage with your other classmates, waiting for your name to be called. Today was supposed to be the best day of your life, one you’ve been waiting for since you entered university. But you can’t find it in you to be happy on your graduation for all the glee has been sucked out of you since that day your professor showed his true colors.

He retired in the middle of the school year. An organization called SHIELD asked for his assistance after he presented himself as Iron Man. You would have been proud of the suit if things didn’t go the way they did, if your professor remained your mentor and didn't turn into your captor. But every time you see the name on the news, or even the image of the suit, all you feel is fear. Fear towards the man you once trusted and the power that he has at the palm of his hand.

Your thoughts are broken when Maya taps your shoulder from behind, looking at the stage to see Michelle finishing her bow and leaving at the other side. Your name is then called and you put on a fake smile as you meet the dean, shaking his hand and taking the scroll of parchment from his grasp before standing center stage and giving a deep bow.

You were deemed Valedictorian of your class. A recognition that was given to you upon the university’s knowledge of your helping hand on the Iron Man suit. A recognition you don’t deserve after Tony’s blatant words.

“You’re not here because you’re smart. Your brain isn’t that special, sweetheart. You’re only here because I wanted you to be here. I just got lucky that your thesis matched with what I was working on and it was the perfect excuse to have you in my tower.”

After the ceremony, you meet with your parents. Both of them hug you tightly as they tell you how proud they are of you. You smile at their words if only to hide your true feelings about the occasion. Nevertheless, you still bask in the freedom that is bestowed upon you with Tony being away on a mission with a band of people they call The Avengers.

“We made reservations at 9th Brewery.” Your mom says with a smile, her arm wrapping around yours as the three of you make your way to the parking.

“9th? Isn’t it expensive there?” You ask and they simply chuckle at your disbelief.

“Our Valedictorian only deserves the best.” Your dad comments, a small smile forming on your lips when he places a kiss on your temple.

You congratulate some of your classmates as you pass them by. Receiving their greeting all the same while some try to stop you and ask for details about working with the most famous man in the world. You try to escape them all the same for you have nothing to tell them, wishing to erase that part of your life, but you stop dead in your tracks when you see Tony just up ahead, looking pristine in a three-piece suit, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You feel a sense of worry wrap around you when he walks towards you and your parents.

“Congratulations, sweetheart.” He greets you, walking past your parents and pressing a kiss to your lips. You take the flowers when he holds them out to you, whispering your thanks before looking at your parents when they stare at you and Tony, question evident in their eyes.

“You’re Tony Stark.” Your dad breaks the silence. “You’re Iron Man.” And Tony grins at him proudly, wrapping an arm around your waist as he holds you close to him. “Why did you kiss my daughter?”

“You haven’t told them yet, sweetheart?” Tony chuckles and holds out his hand to your father. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir.” He says, a wide smile on his lips as your dad shakes his hand. “As well as you, ma’am.” He greets your mom next, taking her hand and placing a light kiss on her knuckles.

“Uhhh—mom, dad, this is Tony and uhhh—” Your hands get clammy as you try to find the words to say. What do you tell them? That he was previously your professor? What would they even think when they find out such information after seeing his public display of affection?

“I think what your daughter is trying to say is that she and I are together.”

You frown upon seeing the expression on your parents’ faces, your dad seemingly excited and your mom, in shock.

“But aren’t you her professor?” Your mom asks. “Sweetie, you never mentioned you were seeing someone.” She turns to you, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth as you feel the anxiety creep up your skin

“I know it’s somewhat of a surprise but I assure you everything is legal,” Tony says coolly, feeling no shame as he places a kiss on your cheek. “We are both consenting adults and I was no longer a member of the faculty when we engaged in our relationship. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your stomach rolls in disgust at how easily he lies to your parents’ faces. And what’s worse is how they seem to believe every word he’s saying. The shock on your mother’s face seems to dissipate and your father is all too oblivious, all smiles as the fame of the man at your side cloud his judgment.

You squeak when Tony’s hand pinches your waist when you don’t answer immediately, feeling a small wave of electricity rippling through your skin from the necklace he’s given you; a smaller replica of the arc reactor he’s embedded on his chest.

You nod and force a smile, leaning closer against Tony’s frame and resting your head against his shoulder. “Yes, honey.”

#tony stark #iron man #tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark au #iron man au #mcu au #i love you 3000 writing challenge #with flying colors #coconut bun stories

618 notes · View notes

cricket-reader · 1 year

Text

The Smell of Alcohol and Cologne

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox

Summary: Tony Stark’s assistant has a flashback and finds comfort in Tony’s arms.

Warnings: Past abuse, hints of SA, MC almost jumps off the tower, mention of a dead mother, fluff, it’s kinda dumb, pining, self-deprecating thoughts, self-blame

Word Count: 3,000

Looking at his assistant Tony takes his time to look at each and every feature. Sure, he stares a lot, but she’s always too oblivious to notice. It’s kinda cute—but at the same time, irritating.

He’s never been able to really stare from this close a distance. She just usually would make some excuse of how she has to do one thing or another.

Her long dark lashes lie gently on her cheeks that are slightly pink, being warm from the blanket and the fireplace. Her freckles are more prominent up close and he can see her perfectly plucked eyebrows. How she manages to keep up her perfect appearance is beyond him.

Despite her shy nature, they have grown closer—helped mainly by his personality. He’s glad for that.

Noting that she probably isn’t going to wake soon, and that she usually doesn’t get much sleep, Tony decides to take her to bed. He only knows that because he asked Jarvis if she was still up one night; when he asked why she was, Jarvis said that she usually never gets much sleep.

Trying to be as careful, quiet, and gentle as possible, Tony lifts her small body, bringing it to his room—since hers is not finished being painted.

She only gains half her consciousness when she is picked up. In her stupor, she smells the light scent of cologne and alcohol and knows she is being carried somewhere by a man. She’s had night terrors like this before, but this felt too real.

It was strange though; the cologne wasn’t the same. Sometimes she had flashbacks in which she could faintly smell the cologne and alcohol, but it isn’t the same as it is now.

Tony notices her body stiffen and her laboured breathing which makes him concerned.

She feels as though she might just get sick.

When Tony began to lower her onto his bed, she freaked. Gently lowering the beauty onto his bed, he covers her with the duvet and looks at her with admiration.

Adrenaline sent her flying up from her lying position on Tony’s bed. Confusion warps her brain. This can’t be real, she thinks.

Tony sees her wide eyes and immediately wants to comfort her, but as he draws closer, she screws her eyes shut, scrambling to the other side of the bed and curling into a ball. This, of course, shocks him. He didn’t understand what was going on; he has never seen her like this.

He faintly hears her mumbling to herself, and when he strains to listen in, he hears her words.

“It’s not real,” plays on repeat. Almost as if she is trying to convince herself—which she is.

Tony gently calls out her name. Her whole body freezes when he gently rests his hands on her arm. This can’t be happening, not again. Tears stream down her face. She thought Tony was one of the good men. Turns out he’s just the same as him.

Deciding she doesn’t want a similar cycle to repeat, she will fight back until he really hurts her—perhaps with a whip like he did.

Tony blinks when she slaps his arm away. She has never so much as shown any reaction similar to this. Even when he noticed that people were clearly bothering her, she kept her cool. He knows this because he often thinks that should he be in that situation, he would slap the person silly.

This is why his concern deepens, almost to a point that is too far. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. What is it? He has not a clue.

He calls out her name as if trying again, softer this time. She tightens her hold on herself shaking her head as if to clear the situation from her mind; however, she, deep down, knows that it won’t work. It’s too real not to be.

Shifting on the bed so he can get a better stance, she flies up out of the bed. Startled, a wide-eyed Tony jumps up as well.

Now she is for certain; this is real. This is happening. Racing out of the room, Tony panics and does the only thing his brain can think of doing. Being a stressful situation, adrenaline was high in both the individuals for different reasons. If you are not aware, in a state such as this, the brain may sometimes make irrational decisions. With that in mind, Tony chases after the woman not entirely thinking the situation through.

She hears his footsteps. He’s going to beat her. Pummel her into submission.

The door to the stairs bursts open. She flies up the stairs with Tony right behind her. After several floors they reach the top. Tony’s eyes widen as he realises what is about to take place if he doesn’t get ahold of her. He can’t have that. He won’t let that happen.

The door to the roof bursts open as she runs to the edge of the building—it’s not as if she’s suicidal, but this was the best option her mind could provide her. She’d rather die than have to suffer like that again.

Tony felt like he might cry out in relief when he was able to wrap his arms around her to prevent her from getting any further.

She thrashes around in his arms as one final attempt, proving itself futile. Gently cooing, trying to console her, he starts walking back into the tower with great difficulty. In there he will be able to let her go, he just can’t when their out on the roof. She sure as hell isn’t dying on his watch. Once they finally get in the building. He tells Friday to lock the door, cursing himself for not thinking of that sooner. If she would have succeeded right then and there, he would have been at fault.

Finally out of his arms, she stumbles before crashing into the tiled floor. Tony feels his heart break seeing how broken she looks. Squatting down to match her height, he carefully says her name.

Her head snaps up. The look of sheer terror upon her face is like a punch to Tony’s gut. Is she scared of him? She slowly begins to scoot away from him, her eyes still wide. His heart completely shatters and he feels nauseous; she is scared of him. No, terrified is more like it. He stands up, frowning with his brows furrowed with concern

“Please don’t… please, I’m sorry! Whatever I did wrong I can fix it! Please, I’m sorry! I’ll be good! I’ll be better! Please!” She sobs, with a certain sense of brokenness. This makes Tony freeze. Slowly he feels the anger creeping into his body once he processes her words.

It all makes sense now. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it sooner. Obviously she must have been having a flashback. The thing that makes his stomach twist is his mind wondering what on Earth could elicit such a response.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, slowly lowering himself so he doesn’t tower above her; certainly she’d be even more scared if he stayed like that.

She peeks up from her ball she curled herself into and sees that Tony is sitting on the cold tile, a nice space between the two of them—not too far and not too close.

“You were going to,” she mumbles, picking at her sleeves. His brows furrow in confusion. What did he do wrong?

“No I wasn’t,” he gently insists.

“Why else would you carry me to bed?”

One sentence.

Once sentence is all it took to destroy him. That along with her tear stained face as she looks down to her sleeves that she’s still picking at. He’s never seen anything as heartbreaking as this. His stomach churns as he thinks more and more of her words.

“Sweetheart… I, I never—it-it wasn’t like that,” he stutters, an underlying tone of pain evident in his voice.

“But you were carrying me to bed,” she persists, speaking softly as if not to anger him.

Should it be any other time, the expression on her face was adorable. Her brows furrowed, a small pout on her lips and her head tilted slightly to the right.

But Tony wasn’t thinking about that at the moment.

He was still trying to wrap his brain around the words she had just spoken to him. Never in his life would he have imagined anything like that coming from her lips.

She was always so happy and carefree, a sense of beautiful innocence with every movement. He doesn’t know how she could keep it up; he certainly doesn’t do it well. Locking himself up and not sleeping for days, looking like shit. He wonders how many times she has felt the way he has, but kept a smile on her face.

“I wanted you to sleep somewhere comfortable.”

Her frown deepens, “then why not leave me on the couch?”

“Because that’s not comfortable, I was going to take it instead,” he shrugs off the last sentence as if it were no big deal. Sure, it wasn’t much of a big deal to him, but to her? To her it was too good to be true. He couldn’t have let her sleep in his bed without wanting something in return. That’s not how it works.

“I would have taken you to yours, but they are still painting it,” he sheepishly rubs his neck. He hopes she doesn’t ask too many questions about that. It was supposed to be a surprise. He was going to have her spend the night in Natasha’s room since she was out on a mission with Wanda and Clint.

He sure as hell was not about to go in Natasha’s room. Though he will endlessly deny it, that woman terrified him. He knew that Natasha would be okay with her sleeping in her room though; he had asked prior, telling his plan to her and Clint. He was honestly kind of surprised she so willingly accepted. He would have thought it would take much convincing.

“Painted? What for?” Her expression grows worried and confused as she rushes to say, “I don’t recall ruining the walls.”

“You didn’t, I just thought a change would be nice,” he smiles. Doubt now enters his mind and he frowns, “unless of course you don’t think so.”

He mentally curses himself. For a genius, he can be kind of stupid some times, often rushing into things without truly thinking it through—take Ultron for example.

“So… you weren’t ..going to…”

“No, of course not,” he gently reassured her. She releases a breath and puts her head back on her knees.

Embarrassment flows through her. How stupid she believes herself to be. She made a fool of herself in front of her boss—of course he didn’t want anything like that from her! He’s Tony Stark for goodness sake! He can get women that are actually gorgeous—models really. He would have no use to use someone as ugly as her. She’s sure he has a line of women he could get any second.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, not lifting her head. She’s too embarrassed to even look at him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, darling,” he assures her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Darling.

Darling is what her mother use do to call her. She hasn’t been called that since the day she died. Tony didn’t even realise he let that slip. It just happened.

Her heart clenches and she looks up at him. Tears blur her vision. Tony hates seeing her like this. What he would do if only he could take all of that suffering away from her. She shakes her head as she looks down. Blinking, the tears fall down her face.

“What do you want now?” He questions, ready to get anything and everything she desires. “I can get you anything you want.”

He couldn’t give her what she wanted though. Money simply couldn’t buy it. What she wanted was for her mama to hold her whilst softly singing a lovely lullaby in the old rocking chair by the brick fireplace in the cosy kitchen. Holding her, and running her fingers through her hair.

She couldn’t ask him to hold her. She has already made a fool out of herself. She also believes that, should she ask, he would laugh in her face. Why on Earth would the great Tony Stark comfort some weak girl?

She shakes her head. Tony frowns before telling her if she changes her mind to just tell him or Friday. Not wanting to do absolutely nothing for her, he nervously asks, “would you like a hug?”

Now here’s the thing about Tony Stark. He wasn’t one to show his nervousness. He always acted like he was chill, arrogant, and sure of himself. He never got nervous around women; in fact, he was great in that department—except when it came to her.

Something about her drew him in. Not in the typical lust-filled way—no, in an emotional sort of relation. Sure, she was quite a sight to see, but he actually felt things for her. Not just physically.

For this reason, he is so anxious as he asks for the hug. Tony doesn’t think she will want one considering everything that has happened. He prepares to not take the hit so hard to his ego; however, he can’t help but think of how crushed he would be should she refuse. Sure, he didn’t mind it, but then he would look like a complete imbecile in front of her.

So when she nodded her head and reached her arms up for him, his ego practically shot into the stratosphere. He was elated that despite everything, she was entrusting him. She was trusting him. Him! He wasn’t one that cries over things, but this brought him close to crying in relief.

He walked over and sat down to give her what he assumed would be a quick hug. Instantly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Taken a bit aback, he takes a few seconds before gaining back enough thought process to return the gesture. He wasn’t going to let go until she did, but he certainly expected it to be quick.

And that is why, ten minutes later, Tony Stark is sitting on the cold tile floor with a woman falling out of consciousness and into her slumber. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to ruin the moment. Nor did he want to be the cause of another horrible memory. He already feels horrible enough. Because although it certainly wasn’t his fault—how could he have known?—he still blamed himself. One thing about Tony Stark is that he often blames himself when things go wrong. After all, that was usually the case with his father. Usually when things went wrong the blame was placed on him. So, it is only natural for him to continue that into his adulthood.

“Sweetheart? Can you open your eyes for me?” Tony asks, gently brushing some of the hair out of her face. She frowns and blearily blinks up at him. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable, yeah?”

She nods her head and stands up. They both walk down the stairs leading to the roof access. It takes them no time to reach the elevator.

“I’m assuming you’d probably want to sleep in Natasha’s room? She said it was okay.”

She lowers her gaze to the ground, worrying her lip in between her teeth. Being alone doesn’t sound like a good idea right now. She wants to be curled up in his arms so he can protect her. The shadows at night wouldn’t dare reach her if she had his strong body wrapped around her.

No. That's inappropriate. He’s her boss, and he would never want to do something like that. The only women he has in his bed with him are the women he has one-night stands with. And that isn’t something she wants.

“Is Natasha here?”

“No, she’s on a mission, so you’ll have the place all to yourself.” He says it like it’s a good thing. Frowning, she scuffs her foot on the ground. Tony practically melts when her pleading eyes look up at him.

“What if I don’t want to be alone?” She mutters, too embarrassed to say it any louder.

Tony’s heart skips a beat. He keeps his face neutral as he says, “well if you want you can sleep in my room. I’ve been told I’m great at cuddling.”

She giggles a little. What he’d give to hear that out of her more. “By who?”

He raises a brow, “why, jealous?”

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, “you wish.”

He smiles back at her. “I was just kidding anyways.”

“Sure,” she jests, not believing him. The elevator opens on his floor and they both walk out.

“No, I’m serious,” he pouts. “I’ve… I’ve never really had anyone to cuddle with.”

Her brows furrow. She finds that hard to believe. What with the amount of girls he’s had in his bed, there’s no way he hasn’t gotten loads of cuddles.

Now that she thinks about it, however, she hasn’t seen anything on the news about his newest scandal or girl toy. In fact, she hasn’t seen so much as one girl getting him to leave early to hook up—not that it’s any of her business. It just makes it easier for her to keep up his reputation.

They arrive at his bed where he had laid her down earlier. Tony tried to burn away the memory of her terrified eyes and petrified body on it.

They both snuggle into bed, making sure not to cross the invisible line they both drew to keep themselves separate.

That doesn’t stop them, however, from tearing down that barrier during their sleep, seeking each other's warmth and comfort.

329 notes · View notes