Avengers Oneshots

gold rush

WARNINGS: fluff and angst and smut involving a classic Mustang

SUMMARY: Tony Stark is Iron Man. The Reader is a journalist who has caught Tony's eye, but she denies feeling the same, stating that dating someone as high-profile as Tony Stark would not end well. For now, she is content to live a life with him in her fantasies. Or is she?

A/N: Sections in italics are the Reader's daydreams.

Gleaming, twinkling

Eyes like sinking ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in

Stark Villa. Malibu. Autumn.

The salty sea breeze blew gently through the open floor to ceiling windows, pushing your bangs in front of your face as you tried to read one of your favorite novels. You attempted to blow them out of the way, but after numerous tries you remained unsuccessful. Slightly calloused fingers stained permanently with grease and oil gently tucked the troublesome fringe behind your ear. You tilted your head back with a soft smile, your eyes meeting your lover's mischievous umber. He smiled back, placing a kiss on your forehead before returning to the latest issue of Innovative Energy and Research. You snuggled further into him and the couch.

You enjoyed moments of quiet such as this. You prided yourself in the fact you managed to tear the infamous workaholic Tony Stark away from his lab for the afternoon. Well with the help of J.A.R.V.I.S. of course. Tony rued the day he gave you admin privileges.

Breaks from work to spend time with you had increased since you moved in. For the first time in years, Tony Stark appeared healthy and content to those inside his inner circle. He went to bed when you did most nights. He ate well, most of the time, always smiling when you sauntered down the stairs into the lab bearing food of all kinds if he worked late. In your presence, he could completely relax. And much to Rhodey and Happy's delight, his smiles became more frequent and genuine.

And the best part was you didn't have to force him to do these things...well...most of time. Tony still had days where he became too lost in his own thoughts to pay attention to anything outside the four walls of his lab, but you expected that would never fully go away. Most of the time, he just wanted to be where you were. He sighed in contentment, allowing his fingers to trace haphazard designs up and down your arm. The far-off waves crashing against the rocks and Tony's almost rhythmic turning of the engineering journal's pages soothed your soul. Slowly, your eyelids grew heavy. Your book fell face down against your chest as you drifted off.

Tony lightly chuckled. "I love you, kitten," he whispered.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipatin' my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

Walk past, quick brush

I don't like slow motion, double vision in rose blush