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ironstrange1991 · 5 months

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Starting Over

Paring: Tony!Stark x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Synopsis: Tony Stark is the best friend you can have when you're struggling with depression.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and medications, depression, social isolation, suicidal thoughts (in the fic they appear in some ironic and deprecatives thoughts).

A/N: I'm not going to pretend I wasn't writing about myself in this fic, you're all too smart not to realize that. It's been difficult days, weeks, months and writing this fic has helped me in a way. There is a lot of angst but also some fluff moments. Hope you guys like it.

You were stuck. In life, in love, at work. The whole world seemed to be spinning, running, happening and you were just there, standing, motionless looking through the window, stuck in gravity.

You were depressed. Not just sad or down, but really depressed. After fighting depression for years, taking every type of antidepressant there was and not being able to get out of that state, you simply stopped trying. Depression was part of your personality now and you wore it almost like a battle trophy, a victory flag that you brandished as if to say: I survive.

Surviving became the thing you were best at. A true prodigy when the subject was to endure. You withstood the strong winds of life, endured through each wave of catastrophe, and remained. Even if inside you were falling apart.

To fall apart. What a funny way to say it. To actually fall apart it was necessary that, in principle, you had risen up at some point. That somehow, even if just for a little while, you had managed to let go of that sad and pitiful state, but that wasn't what happened. You never made it out. Once you got close, but the doors closed before you got through them. The sun set before you could finally reach it just like in that Marilyn Manson song. The same song that played on repeat now through your tv speakers as you sat on your couch in your small apartment on a Friday night after getting home from work. Your cat, Sebastian, sleeping lazily next to you on the couch, completely oblivious to your problems. You liked watching him sleep, he calmed you just by existing and you envied his innocence.

God, you hated Fridays. To be honest, there wasn't a day you liked when in fact you hated being alive. But Fridays were oppressive. They were like a reminder that the world was a living, breathing thing where things happened and you were on the outside, never a part of it.

On Fridays you would hear the conversations of your coworkers talking about the parties they were going to, the dates with their crushes, the family dinners, the happy hours with friends. You once heard a colleague saying that weekends are made for enjoying your family and you wondered if you would feel better if you had a family to run to.

All these fruitless and cursed inquiries would arrive on Fridays like an unwanted visitor and weigh on your chest as soon you close the door behind you and contemplate the emptiness of your apartment. Of your life.

I should get another cat. You would think every Friday night and ended up on the couch, like now, with a bottle of wine, a clonazepam pill, and the vain hope that one day maybe things could change or that one day you just wouldn't wake up on the next Saturday morning. The second option would always bring a sadistic smile to your lips.

Flirting with death again, Y/n. Why do you always end up on this couch flirting with death?!

You were distracted by your own thoughts, immersed so deep in them that the very air around you seemed thick and unbreathable when you heard the sound of the doorbell. You froze for a moment scared by the intrusion. The sound, which you weren't at all used to, sent a shiver down your spine.

There was only one person in the world who had access to your apartment, one person in the world who you trusted enough to give your address, your phone number, your friendship. And this person unfortunately had a too busy life to spend time with you. Even if he tried very hard.

However, contrary to everything you knew to be true, when you opened the door, he was the one standing there, dressed in jeans and a hoodie with the hood pulled to hide the majority of his face and a pair of sunglasses, although it was night. Tony Stark.

"What...?" You started to say, but were interrupted.

"Are you going to let me in or am I going to have to stand here and risk being recognized by one of your weird neighbors?"

You opened the door for him to enter and closed it behind you, still amazed that he was there in the first place.

You and Tony met at one of his science fairs. You worked for a technology company and he offered you a scholarship because he was enchanted by one of your creations. The rest was history. Well, in fact the rest was the only real friendship you had or have in your life, not counting the financial help that ensured you continued paying your rent when the company you worked for went bankrupt and you were fired.

"I've sent you at least ten messages all day. And I've tried calling you a thousand times." He ranted looking at you as if looking for something. "I thought you’ve died or worse."

"What could be worse than dying?" You asked, your voice sounding as monotonous as your life.

He raised an eyebrow but didn't respond, returning to where he had left off.

"What I'm trying to say is that I was worried about you. The last time we spoke you didn't seem well and that was two weeks ago."

You sighed, sitting down and he pushed Sebastian to the side so he could sit next to you. The old cat seemed to glare at him before getting off the couch and starting to lick the exact spot where Tony touched him.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry about the messages, I didn't know what to reply and I didn't see the calls because the cell phone is on do not disturb mode."

Tony sighed. "What's going on? Aren't the medicines working? Is there a problem at work?"

You shrugged. "Same as always. And I'm not taking medication, you'd know that if you read my latest messages, which you haven't done in the last week."

He didn't seem satisfied with your answer. "Why the hell did you stop the meds, Y/n? You just said they were helping!"

You shrugged. "For the first few weeks. Then they stopped working like all the others. Plus, they don't let me cry. It's a strange feeling."

Tony ran a hand over his face. "Isn't this a good thing?"

"Not really. They don't take the sadness away, Tony, they just don't let me cry it away."

He stared at the TV sighing. "I'm sorry I didn't respond to your messages. I was away. I just got back."

You nodded. "Out of the country?"

"Out of the planet." He said with a shrug "Alien threat, long story. The short version is that I was there leading a team and we won. The earth is saved again. I saved your life again, I'll send you the bill later."

You smirked "As far as it's up to me, you don't need to bother anymore."

Tony made a face, analyzing you closely, but didn't say anything.

"Why are you here, Tony? Really. Don't tell me you were just passing by because you have no reason to come to this side of town."

He sighed. "I'm worried about you. I dreamed about you last night. It was bad, really bad. It made me think..."

You frowned, waiting for him to continue, but instead he pulled you into a tight hug like he was afraid of losing you. You were surprised at first, but then you hugged him back and that feeling, the human touch, was enough to make you start crying.

"It’s okay." Tony whispered in your ear. "You can cry. I'm here, now."

And you cried. In a way you hadn't cried in a long time. All the feelings pent up inside your chest seemed to overflow and you felt relief, almost as if you had carried something heavy in your arms for a long time and could finally let go.

When the torrent of tears finally stopped you pulled away hugging your knees and feeling a little embarrassed, but Tony somehow always knew how to deal with every situation in such a natural way. Sometimes you would catch yourself looking at him and thinking how you could be so lucky to have him as a friend. Good things didn't usually happen to you, but Tony was an exception.

"Can we turn this thing off or at least find something decent to listen to?" He said while searching for the remote.

"Anything but your old man bands." You responded finding the strength somewhere to tease him. He rolled his eyes, finally finding the remote and turning off the TV.

He made himself comfortable on the couch and leaned his face in his hand, staring at you and simply said it. "I want you to come live with me."

And before you could show any reaction, he continued explaining himself.

You shook your head in disbelief. "Tony, you're not responsible for me. We're friends, that's all."

"I have more rooms available in that tower than I have people living in them. Besides, it would make things a lot easier for me. It's hard to keep an eye on you when you live on the other side of town."

He seemed to completely disagree. "It's what I do. I care about the people I love. Please, just... consider it." He ran his hands over his face again. "This is my way of saying I care about you, Y/n."

You sighed heavily. The idea of no longer needing to pay rent was tempting, but on the other hand, what would you do in that place? You would feel like a fish out of water.

"I don't know, Tony. I'm not your superpowered friends, I have nothing to do there."

He stood up looking around and heading towards the cubicle that was your kitchen, somehow completely ignoring your answer. "Have you had dinner?" He asked rummaging through your fridge and grimacing. "Y/n there's no food in here. It doesn't even look like there's a human being living in this place."

You shrugged. "There's enough."

He opened the freezer, rummaging through the packages of frozen food. "For God's sake, is this what you're feeding on?"

You sighed, slightly irritated by the intrusion. "Tony, fresh food is expensive."

He closed the refrigerator, took out his cell phone and typed quickly. "Well, I guess we'll go for pizza tonight. Do you like Pepperoni?"

You weren't hungry, but you nodded anyway, knowing there was no point in arguing with him. Tony might be the smartest person you knew, but he was as stubborn as a mule.

He sat back down next to you. "If you need money just tell me."

You rolled your lips. The idea of asking Tony for money was always in the back of your head, but since you got your job you stopped accepting his help and didn’t want to give in to the temptation again. "I don't want to overstep the boundaries of our friendship. Besides, that would put me again in an uncomfortable position, Tony..."

"Then come work for me. Okay, sorted. I need someone with your skills..."

You rolled your eyes "Do you need someone to create software for you?"

He smirked, "Okay, you got me. But, we can think of something."

You sighed, the corners of your mouth turning up in a smile. Tony was so sweet, you could see an herculean effort from him to make you feel better and it was definitely the most amazing thing anyone had ever done for you.

"I would like to quit my job. It’s a shit job." You admitted staring at your hands. "… and I hate that place. I hate those people."

"Is there any person in the world that you don't hate?" He teased.

You smirked, "You're not so bad."

He grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him. You snuggled feeling the pleasant warmth of his body and laid your head on his shoulder.

"In fact, I think you're the only person in the world I don't hate."

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders. "I'll take that as a compliment."

You smiled to yourself. “Yeah, as you should.”

He looked at his cell phone's display for a moment and then informed. "Pizza in 20 minutes." He grabbed the TV remote and turned it on again, this time looking for something to watch. He went through the streaming catalogs – from which he was paying for - and ended up deciding on a random horror movie.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes watching the opening scenes of The Nun. The silence, however, was not the uncomfortable kind, the kind that you need to fill with anything because the situation starts to get messy and strange. In fact, there was a certain comfort in being next to Tony, the intimacy that existed between you was something comforting and even cuddling with him on the couch, your head lying lazily on his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his waist, his arm resting affectionately on your shoulders, you felt completely at ease and carefree because you knew it was completely platonic. Tony had Pepper and you had simply given up on having a man in your life. Romantically speaking.

"How are things at home?" You asked, breaking the silence. "With Pepper and Morgan."

"Very good. Pepper has been taking care of the company and so she's been traveling a lot, but we're doing great. Morgan is doing really well in school. I think I've done well in life."

You smiled, genuinely happy for him. "Does she know you're here?"

He nodded, but you pushed a little harder.

"What does she think about me?"

"She knows what I tell her. She doesn't care about our friendship, if that's what you're asking."

You nodded, getting distracted by a particularly scary scene in the movie.

"She agreed to you coming and living with us." He said proudly.

You looked at him in surprise. "Seriously?"

"She also warned me that I should offer you a job if I expected you to accept the offer. Pepper knows people, she deals with them better than I do."

You smirked to yourself. "She's an incredible woman. I don't know what she saw in you." You teased tickling his ribs and eliciting giggles from him. You loved the sound of Tony's laughter. It would do you more good than all the anti-depressant pills you've ever taken in your life.

It took about 30 minutes for your pizza to arrive. Obviously, it was you who greeted the pizza guy at the door. Tony was terrified of any of your neighbors finding out he was coming to your house, not only because it could be fodder for the gossip tabloids, but also because it would ruin your privacy.

You put the pizza box on the coffee table and got two cans of soda from the fridge and threw yourself back on the couch.

Sebastian, who had settled into the small loveseat, was now staring at the two of you jealously.

You were surprised by how much you enjoyed your slice of pizza. It was the first thing you were eating that day, but you were sure that what made everything feel so special was the company. Any food, no matter how tasty it was, seemed tasteless in your mouth when you ate it alone sitting on that couch using TV to pretend a non-existent company.

"I could use an assistant." Tony said finishing his soda and looking at you waiting for an answer.

You took the last bite from your piece and chewed slowly thinking about what to say. Deep down you wanted to say yes, but rationally you wondered if you weren't crossing a line.

"You'll have your own room, which is bigger than this entire apartment. You'll have a good salary, meet new people, and spend more time with me. Something tells me that would do you good."

You smiled "I wouldn't know where to start. I don't know your work, Tony and I've never worked as a secretary."

"Assistant." He corrected.

"What if I screw up? What if I disappoint you?"

Tony touched your face "The only way you can disappoint me is by not trying. I want what's best for you and we both know that's not continuing to live in this place alone."

Immediately you glanced at Sebastian sleeping peacefully in the loveseat. "Can I take him with me? You know I'm not going anywhere without him."

Tony pretended to think about it. "You know he hates me, right?"

"He doesn't hate you. He's just jealous of me." You corrected him.

Tony smirked "You can take him, but he will have to stay in your room the whole time. It's not safe for him to be loose in the tower."

“Is it safe for me? I mean, with your weird friends there?”

Tony nodded “I’ll be there to protect you from them, don’t worry.”

Tony pulled you into his arms and you finished watching the movie like that, feeling safe in his arms and with a sense that somehow everything would be okay.

You sighed finally surrendering.

"Then the answer is yes."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

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antoniusstark · 1 year

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#tony stark #anthony stark #peter parker #iron man #spider man #ironspider #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #starker #starker fanart #starker fandom #comics #marvel

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lemonnsss · 6 months

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Moral of the Story pt. 3

Warnings: cheating, illusions to sex, angst, not BETA'D we die like men.

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4

Taglist: @vicmc624, @mostlymarvelgirl, @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy, @moonlightreader649, @whattheduckisupkyle, @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan, @mrsbarnes32557038, @imyourbratzdoll

Word count: 2.1k

“Oh, so soon?” he leaned in, obviously interested in my request, “And what might your boon be?”

“As you can probably guess, I need a job. I have an interview tomorrow morning for the role of your PA. If that doesn’t pan out -because of anyone's request outside of your own- I still want a good-paying job with decent benefits. Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll cut it short, you’re hired.”

“Please, I don’t need your pity.”

"Oh, don't worry, I wouldn't hire you out of pity. It's because of what you did just now. I gave you barely any details, and you came up with a sub-par solution." Satisfied with his answer, he reaches over and takes a sip of my coffee.

"Sub-par says I go out, find your bodyguard, and drag him back here." He visibly aspirates, coughing into a napkin for a minute or so. I got up, got a straw, and returned. By the time I sat down, he had regained most of his composure.

"You had a good plan that led to a good solution," gesturing to himself, "I'm a rich asshole. Are we happy?” A slight rasp remained in his voice.

“Sufficiently. I accept the role of your PA, Mr. Stark. When should I start?"

"After your interview with Ms. Potts. You did say that if anyone aside from me was against you as my PA, you'd be fine with it."

I leaned back, covering my eyes with my hand, ”Yeah, I did."

"Don't try denying it. JARVIS has been recording- I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"I fully acknowledge and stand by my previous statement. And, did you just admit to illegally recording our conversation?” My other hand raised pointing at him, “If so, that would be quite unfortunate for you and Stark Industries.” I separated my fingers to see his shocked yet slightly confused expression.

"Well, shit.”

I lowered my hand to the arm of the chair, tilting my head slightly, “Did you think I wouldn’t own up to my word? Please, Tony -can I call you Tony? I’m going to call you Tony- I do have morals, they’re a bitch, but they’re there. When I make promises, I follow through with them.” I look down at my lap, my hands wrapped around my stomach, “I hate people who break their promises. They are the worst kind of people. All that does is hurt those around them, but they’re too self-centered to realize that until it’s too late- sometimes even then it doesn’t click.” I glance up, he’s leaning closer to me, a worried look plastered across his face.

I straighten, collect my things, and move to get up, “I suppose I’ll see you at my interview tomorrow, Mr. Stark.” I walk away and out of the café, hearing the bell ring as I walk out.

I fell face down into my bed, arms spread out. “I just met THE Anthony Edward Stark and acted like it was no big deal. What is wrong with me?” I grabbed a pillow, held it to my chest, curled up into the fetal position, and screamed. “How could I have acted like it was nothing? He’s an A-list celebrity and I just brushed it off!” I prop up onto my elbows, my hands extending forward.

I spent the afternoon and evening just watching TV and reading. While I didn’t typically read graphic books, Hemingway and Remarque’s book had been sitting in my collection untouched for far too long, and it wasn’t necessarily a horrible way to finish the day. About halfway through “All Quiet On The Western Front” I realized just how depressing this book was and how glad I hadn't gone over it with my high school classes. The case remained much the same for “A Farewell to Arms”.

My phone alarm went off, signaling it was time to start getting ready for bed. I got up to grab it, shutting off the tone. I stood up, went to the bathroom, completed my nightly routine, and set out my clothes for my interview, although it seemed I had been hired in all but formalities.

I woke up the next day with a slight ache in my bones but, nothing like the previous day. I got ready and headed out to the Stark Industries headquarters. When I arrived I wasn’t necessarily shocked. The lobby was sleek and modern, bustling with the morning rush. I walked up to the receptionist, an older woman, and told her that I was there for the interview for the role of Mr. Stark’s assistant. I confirmed she looked me up and down before saying my name aloud. She handed me a card, stating it was a single use and would be deactivated once I left the building before pointing me to the elevator, guarded by the head of security, Mr. Stark’s bodyguard, Happy Hogan.

I walked over he looked at me slightly puzzled as I walked up to the elevator, sliding the activated card. It took a moment or two before the door opened and I could not be happier. I walked in and the doors shut.

“Crap, I didn’t get the floor.” I placed my face in my hand, aggravated at my forgetfulness.

An electronic voice rang out, “I believe I can be of some assistance, Mx.”.

I screamed, “What the fuck?” I backed into a corner, grabbing the rails.

“Apologies, I seem to have startled you. I’m JARVIS, Mr. Stark’s AI.”

“O-okay? Can you send me up to Mrs. Potts’ floor?”

“Of course.”

The elevator ride passes quickly thanks to Stark’s AI. As the doors open JARVIS informs me that the door on the right leads to Ms. Potts’ office. I walk up to the door and knock, ”Come in!” A voice calls out. I open the door and introduce myself.

Ms. Potts was a taller woman with blonde hair. She ran around frantically, “I’m so sorry, an urgent business meeting just came up. Would it be okay to reschedule your interview?”

“Yes, yes, of course. These things happen, I understand. Is there anything I can do to help?” I move close to her desk.

The look on her face shows she didn't expect my reaction. "Um, yes. In one of the piles over there. There should be twelve documents with the keywords Stark v. Hammer." She points over the corner where there are three medium-sized piles of papers

"Oh, is that all?"

"Yes, thank you. My assistant has been on sick leave for two weeks and my office has become an absolute mess." I hear the clink of metal on the ground. She squats down, looking for whatever it was that had fallen.

"Really, it's no problem. I've worked in worse offices, this is nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"The lawyer I worked for in college. He was a mess. He wouldn't let anyone move his things, so it just stayed that way until he needed a specific paper or file, and then he would send me looking. Apparently, he did that to all of his assistants after one of them, about five years before me, lost one of the major papers in a big case for the firm. He fired her immediately." I rifled through the paperwork, quickly finding a handful of the documents.

"That sounds horrible, although, from a business person's perspective I can somewhat understand."

"Yeah, it was crazy. I worked for him for four years and almost feel bad for leaving. He finally adjusted and was comfortable with me going through the records." I had found all but one of the papers at this point and had looked through all three piles with no luck.

"Ms. Potts?"

She stands up, bumping her head on the edge of her desk, "Yes?"

"Sorry, um, are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine." She grasps the back of her head, wincing. She's clearly not.

"Are you sure? You hit your head pretty hard."

"Yes, really. What were you asking about?"

"Okay, are you sure all of the papers are over here? There's one missing. I've gone over the stacks at least three times."

"Yes, of course. They're all there, I could've sworn." She walks over, or at least attempts to as about halfway she grasps her head, a small groan accompanying the action. I run over, offering my arm. She takes my arm, and I lower her to the ground, a quiet 'thank you' thrown in the midst.

There was a small cut on the back of her head, a small amount of blood flowing out. I place my fingers on the cut, using my powers to heal it. A sharp pain found its way to the back of my head for a moment before it fades.

"Thank you. I think I just needed to sit down for a moment. But, yes, all of the papers should be over here. It's odd that there's one missing."

"Could it be in a different stack?"

"It shouldn't be, then again, I haven't exactly been keeping this place clean enough to say. Crap! The meeting's supposed to start in a few minutes."

"How far into the meeting do you need the papers, and how long do you expect this meeting will be?"

"Maybe two-thirds of the way through and half an hour at the shortest. Why?"

"I'm gonna buy you some time, obviously. I'll look through the rest of the papers to find the missing page. Once I find it I'll head over to your meeting room and deliver the papers as if you'd asked for them just before the meeting began. How does that sound?"

She walks up to me and hugs me. As she pulls away she says, "You are a lifesaver! Thank you." She grabs her papers and walks out of her office, presumably to the meeting room as I stand there stunned, unmoving as a stone.

When her trance breaks, I start moving around the room, quickly checking each pile for the missing paper. I tried to stay in the general area she originally pointed me to with no luck. I slowly moved towards the desk, it was the only place I hadn't checked yet.

I went through the different stacks before finding the paper in the third, guess it really was the charm. I collected all of the papers in a manilla folder, finishing it off with a paperclip -just as a precaution. As I went to grab the door handle JARVIS told me which meeting room they were on.

I walked out to the small foyer between the two offices and entered the elevator. JARVIS took me to the correct floor.

I walked up to the door of the meeting room Ms. Potts was in and knocked on the door before entering. I looked inside to see a variety of old, white businessmen and Ms. Potts in front of a projector explaining something I wasn't about to pretend I understood. She looked relieved.

I walked in just enough to where I could close the door, "Apologies, Ms. Potts, is this a bad time? I have the paperwork you requested."

"Oh no, not at all." She walked over to me, taking the folder from my hands. "Thank you." She whispered.

"It was no problem at all, Ma'am. Would you like me to continue working in your office, or go home for the day?"

"Please, wait in my office." She tipped her head slightly, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed.

I excused myself and headed back to Ms. Potts office. I waited for her in one of the armchairs at her desk. I checked my phone and realized I hadn't read the e-mail from Scott yet. I opened his message, the contents shocking me.

'Hi, I know it's been a while since we've talked, I mean really talked. I'm sorry, I chose a girl who saw me as the second choice over the person who's been my best friend practically since we met. I'm leaving the mansion too. Things have been crazy here. The professor is making Jean and Logan sub for all the classes you used to teach, and he'll be doing so for every teacher who leaves because of what happened. I'm planning on moving back to Anchorage. My parents left the house to Alex, but he gave everything to me in his will, making it mine. That house has to be 80 or so years old now, it's going to need a lot of repairs. I'll send you the address once it's all fixed up, maybe have some tea and catch up.

See you someday,

Scott.'

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trapezequeen · 1 year

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Bloody Tony Stark

👇🏼 Look under tag bloody avengers for more like this 👇🏼

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brw · 3 months

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hope your insurance is up to date.

brieuc's 1k celebreation: 🤖 interest edit for @lightqueer!

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eightam · 2 years

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Tony Stark

Tony Stark: Iron Man #7

Art by Kotoyama (コトヤマ)

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feuer-bluete · 1 year

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#this is my first poll #Tony stark #mcu #marvel #anthony stark #iron man #marvel universe #marvel comics #have fun y'all #shellhead

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cricket-reader · 1 year

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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.

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