Multifandom Oneshots

Tony Stark x Reader

He was always touching you. He'd have his hand on your knee, his arm around you, his hands on your shoulders, his hand in yours... It was constant.
He'd started it after New York, so you'd assumed it was a stress thing.
"Does it bother you?" He asks one day, withdrawing his hand from your leg.
"No." You say honestly.
"Are you sure? I feel like it does. I'll stop." He clasps his hands and puts them in his lap.
"I'm scared of everything." You tell him.
"What?"
"I'm scared of everything. I can barely get out of bed because the prospects of everything in the coming day feel insurmountable."
"But you do everything."
"Yes, because I have to. I know it seems foolish, since I've been judo flipping grown men since I was six, but I'm scared to leave the house. I've always been. It's never gotten any better."
"I'm sorry." He stammers out after a bit. "What, uh, I mean, do you... do you want to do something about it? Um--"
"No. My point was that I like it. Please don't stop."
"I don't have to explain myself, do I?"
"No. I know why you do it."
"... You do?"
"I assume it's a way of coping with your Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?"
"I don't have PTSD." He reminds you emphatically.
"All right."
"Maybe I'm a little nervous, but I don't have any disorders."
"You have several."
"I do not."
"Okay." You shrug.
"But you do. Let's talk about that, shall we?"
"No."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because it didn't require that."
"But I could try to help."
"I've survived so far."
"What scares you?" He slips his hand back into yours.
"Everything."
"Any specifics?"
"Yes."
"Well, relate."
"You'll laugh."
"I wouldn't laugh at things that bother you so much that you actually like human contact. I won't interrupt either. Tell me what everything is."
"Interpersonal relationships intrapersonal relationships, the dark, crowded places, small spaces, open spaces, people, physical contact, work--"
"I know I said I wouldn't interrupt, but what do you mean by work?"
"The things I do." You look at him. "I murder people for a corrupt government. I hate walking into those situations. It's terrifying."
"Okay. Sorry. Continue."
"Clowns. I'm scared of clowns. That's about it. Oh, and Natasha."
"Natasha Romanoff?"
"Yes."
"She scares you?"
"She terrifies me."
"Yeah, me too." He agrees.
"Yep."
"Wow. Well, that was a pretty good portion of everyday things you listed there."
"Exactly. So there's nothing anyone can do to help."
"You don't like physical contact, but you asked me to not stop?"
"I like yours. It's comforting."
"You don't have to wait for me to make the move. You can grab my hand or whatever too." He smiles a bit.
You don't tell him that you would consider that a display of weakness (even though it wasn't) because then he'd stop doing it. You just shrug.
You're gasping in the shower that evening, rushing to get out. You practically throw the door open when you finish and lean your forehead against the shower wall beside the opening, catching your breath.
There's a knock on the door and you jump.
"You okay, baby?" Tony calls.
"Yeah." You answer, trying not to sound as breathless as you actually are.
"You sure?"
"Yep."
"What was that bang?"
"I moved the shower door a bit too hard. Sorry."
"Sure you're okay?"
"Yep."
"You don't have to come tonight."
"I know. I want to."
You dry your hair and throw on one of Tony's t-shirts to wear while you finish getting ready.
He watches you put on your makeup.
"Why do women wear that?" He asks.
"To help their self-image." You stab yourself in the eye with eyeliner because your hand's shaking.
"But you're beautiful without it."
"Perhaps to you. You know I don't like compliments."
"Yeah, but pretty sure I'm supposed to compliment you. I'd think it was a trick to see if I'd screw up and not do it, but I don't think you'd do that."
"I wouldn't."
"That was a joke. You can laugh."
You laugh.
You see him smile at you through the mirror.
"What's wrong?" You ask.
"Nothing, why?"
"I saw you sigh."
"Women don't actually have eyes in the back of their head, do they?" He asks, sounding rather concerned.
"Just a mirror in front of me." You smile a bit.
He moves a bit. "Can you still see me?"
"Are you doing something I shouldn't see?" You turn to look at him, even though you can still see him in the mirror.
"'Course not." He laughs.
"Quit pulling at your tie." You tell him as you're putting on mascara.
His hand freezes at his neck. ".... I thought you couldn't see me."
"I lied." You admit.
You go to search through the closet for something fancy to wear.
"We could stay here and you could stay in that." He winks.
"Except you have to go."
"Really, baby, you don't have to go."
"I know, Tony. I always go."
"Cause you loooove me."
"Si dicas ita." If you say so.
"Joke's on you, I don't speak Chinese."
You turn to look at him.
"Not Chinese. Greek? Latin!"
"Rectus." Right.
"Can we go back to English?"
"Possumus." We can.
"Y/N." He whines.
You shoot him a smile as you slip on a red dress.
"You look stunning." He tells you.
"Wú gōng wéi." No compliments.
"That was Chinese."
"Good job." You smile.