A/N: Changed the rating of the fic to mature because lbr they're horny fuckers lmao

"Oh, thank God!" Virginia called out, as she saw him jog through the gate. She had left her key card and her phone in her room and he was the first person who walked by her building for hours. She wouldn't dare to ignore him just because he was Tony Stark. Not this time.

In deference to the heat, he wore a black tank top that exposed bronze skin, tight muscles, and a tattoo on his left bicep. It depicted a wounded heart, skewered with a knife. It was so small, she almost hadn't noticed it in the orange glow from the campus lights. She knew what it stood for—loss and betrayal—and she wondered if it had the same meaning to him. It would explain so much about who he was, and why he was who he was, even more so because the heart was black. She couldn't stop wondering about the story behind it.

As Tony bent to tie his shoes, Virginia noticed the way the sweat glistened on his shoulders and down his back to his butt. She noticed that his butt seemed to fit his pants a little too well for her. She could not take her eyes off of him, even when he turned toward her. The only thing that she seemed to be able to do was notice how defined his arm muscles were, and how her body seemed to want to be in them.

"Need my help with anything?" he asked, pulling her from her thoughts, and smirked.

She felt her cheeks blush. God, why did she have to be so turned on by someone so... annoying. "Can you please swipe me in? I was at the Laundromat and I forgot to take my key card with me, and my phone, so I'm stuck out here."

"You always do your laundry at midnight?"

"I like the quiet," she stated bluntly, thinking of all the songs she had written, while waiting for her clothes to dry.

He cackled. "Yeah, sorry, Potts, but I'm sleeping at my apartment tonight, so I don't have my—"

"You have an apartment? Then why the hell are you even bothering living in a dorm? Dorms are the worst thing to ever sleep in. They're too hot, too cold, smell weird, have cracked ceilings, and just have the general feeling of being old. Come Friday afternoon, everyone is off the walls. There's yelling, scheming, unicycling down the halls, and other things happening right outside your door. If you think you're going to get a nap at any time after 1:00 p.m, then you thought wrong. In addition, if you have any food at all, then expect that to be gone very quickly if people come in and out of your room often. Just. Totally. Gone," she ranted. "If I had an apartment, I wouldn't show myself anywhere near a stupid dorm ever again."

"You know this would be an excellent TED talk," he joked. She sniffed—and he found himself truly attracted to the way she crinkled her nose when she was mad. It was adorable. "And to answer your question... Living in a dorm is a lot more fun than staying at an apartment every night, all by myself." He paused, then smirked. "Well, not every night of course, but you get me."

As he stared at her, he noticed how hot she looked in that pair of high cut denim shorts and a men's button down shirt, mostly unbuttoned. Her hair was pinned up in a wild bun that spoke of the late hour with no need to worry about something as frivolous as a hairdo when all she thought about was sleep. He could tell by her looks that she had only wanted to do her laundry and then go to bed. She didn't even have proper shoes on, just a pair of thongs. And she carried a large duffle bag with her that he figured contained a clean set of clothes.

"Got anything to sleep in in there?"

"What?" she asked back, confused.

"You can crash at my place if you want," he proposed. Part of him couldn't believe that he was actually offering a woman to spend the night at his apartment, like he was inviting her to a sleepover. Of course he wouldn't mind if they ended up having sex... Would she?

"You're asking me if I wanna—"

"Sleep at my apartment? Yes."

"I'm not gonna have sex with you," she said sternly—well, there was his answer.

"That's a shame," he replied, laughing. Tony looked at her for a moment, then smiled. "C'mon, Pepper, I really just wanna help you out here." The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. "It's a two-bedroom apartment, the guest room has an en-suite, I won't even bother you."

She thought long and hard about his proposal. It was not like this was going to be the first time she had to stay at a guy's place for one night. She had done that before, out of the same reasons she was forced to do it now—she tend to lock herself out a lot—but this was Tony Stark. She didn't trust him. Looking into his eyes, though, the feelings she felt for him were new to her. He made her feel safe and cared for, which, under the circumstances, had to be bizarre to say the least. Safe with a man like him? Yet she did feel safe. She didn't feel threatened. And so she agreed.

Virginia was surprised to find that his place was nothing like she'd expected. What she expected was something expensive, maybe on the Upper East Side, with an impossibly beautiful view of Central Park. She expected to be greeted by a doorman, before entering an elevator to ride to the top floor, and she expected top end furnishings, appliances, linens, and electronics—an apartment furnished in modern minimal style that suited everything she seemed to know about him.

What she found was a walk-up. Four flights of stairs. She found a place that turned out to be a charming, authentic New York City loft in one of the most accessible, subway-friendly spots in Lower Manhattan. It had all the trimmings of an old-school loft—high ceilings, exposed brick, enormous windows, wood floors. It also had plenty of old-school quirk, with cast off furniture that no one else seemed to want, which were the perfect accouterments to his living quarters.

The living room, and kitchen, was one big open space, dominated by a vintage 1920's leather chesterfield sofa, the one thing that really stood out amidst all the old furniture. The whole place was neat and tidy, but still had that look of a project. She didn't quite know what she'd been expecting, something more bohemian perhaps, a bachelor pigsty. Looked at it in realistic terms, the loft was simply a storage room for assorted junk, but it had an energy and presence of its own that completely captivated her.

"The, um, fireplace needs some remodeling but it's summer, so..." Tony cleared his throat. "Anyway, this is where I live and—"

"Work?" Letting go of her duffel bag, she fingered the keys of his electric piano gently, then took his guitar down off the wall. "May I?" He nodded, watching her as she sat on the couch with the guitar across her knees and started strumming it, setting chords, marveling at its rich tones.

Soon she began to sing as if he wasn't there. It was more of a humming that she did, but she poured out such a beautiful melody that a thrill of admiration ran through him. After a while, she slipped a quick glance at him, startled to find him staring at her. He smiled. She smiled, feeling embarrassed and looked down as she felt her whole face going red. She didn't know why she suddenly felt so insecure in his presence. Maybe it was this place. There was definitely something magical about it, although magic was not a word she'd associate with anything that related to Tony Stark.

"I'm gonna take a shower," he said. "Your room's down the hall, on the left. Towels are in the cabinet. The bed squeaks a little but it's very comfy." She launched herself off the couch, and the way her legs moved as she walked, and her butt filled out the seat of her pants, made his groin tighten.

"I'm good," she replied, putting away the guitar and grabbing her stuff. "Thank you."

Tony nodded. "If you need anything else just let me know. My door's always open."

"Yeah, you know, I'm still not gonna sleep with you," she insisted, making him laugh.

"I got the message the first time. Thank you very much," he answered, smirking. He grabbed a water bottle from the counter, then turned around to walk to his room. "Goodnight, Pep."

"You really like calling me that, don't you?"

"What?" he said, facing at her.

"Pep... Pepper."

"As a matter of fact, I do." He grinned. "You got a problem with that?"

Virginia didn't say anything for a moment, then told him no, she didn't, and it was probably the first time since the two of them had started talking that she was completely honest with him. She liked the sound of Pepper. She liked how it seemed to fit her more than her real name, because that nickname manifested the fire that she had to her personality. It also looked way better on an album cover than Virginia would do—that is if she ever were lucky enough to release one.

"Then I'll see you in a coupla hours," Tony said, and his grin was even wider now. "Sweet dreams."

He only took a quick shower, then brushed his teeth and climbed into bed with no clothes on. As he lay down, thinking, an image of Pepper's tall, well-muscled form danced before his closed eyelids. She was naked, with her hair pulled back so he could clearly see the curves of her body, her breasts... And her fingers parting her outer lips to tease her clit. She opened herself, sliding her fingers deeper with a sharp sigh, making her own body jolt from the pure pleasure of it. She moaned softly at first, but the sounds grew louder and longer with each thrust of her fingers deep inside her pussy. Her other hand pinched her nipple roughly, and then she cried out his name as wave after wave of complete and total fulfillment coursed through her body.

Tony's blood grew hot as he imagined her hands touching him, her mouth and tongue on him, her voice soft and full with need while she kissed and stroked him everywhere a man could desire. A web of arousal spun around him as he squeezed his shaft, his thumb caressing over the leaking head. He growled when he felt the tingle shooting up his spine. He imagined her lips hovering just above the tip, her tongue ready to touch him and send him into spasms of sheer pleasure. He imagined her wet mouth taking his cock, sucking the head deep in her throat—shit! He knew he had to stop this, but it felt so damn good.

Tony wrapped a fist around his cock and pumped slowly. He moaned aloud, imagining her hand caressing his heavy sac, massaging it gently and exploring it as it grew tighter and tighter. He imagined her soft, naked body under his, their skin hot and slick as he drove into her again and again. He imagined that icy cool facade hot and flushed with pleasure, begging him to take her harder, rougher. She'd wrap her long legs around his waist, and he'd thrust into her so deep it'd shake her to the core. He pumped again. Harder, faster. Up, down, over the tip. He imagined her hands clasped behind his neck and then sliding ever so slowly down his naked chest, teasing him with her slender fingertips.

He pumped vigorously now, his hand rough on his cock as he imagined her pussy clenching around him, milking him of everything he had. He imagined her fingers digging into his shoulders, as urgent moans came apart in a violent scream. The friction grew until he knew it was not possible for him to last any longer. Then with a shout, his climax consumed him. He roared into the open air, his seed spilling into his palm, his body shaking. He halted for a moment, overpowered by his release, by his thoughts of Pepper. His cock softened in his hand to hang against his thigh. He had made a mess. His desire for her was undeniable.

Tony wiped a tissue across his chest and then his belly, and chuckled. "Sorry," he shouted, guessing she must've heard him. And if she hadn't, then she was still sound asleep, knowing nothing about the great sex they just had... In his mind.

When he came into the living room the next morning, she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her thighs flat on the surface. A soft, loose-fitting black shirt covered her upper half whilst a pair of zebra-print leggings hugged her toned pins, ensuring pure comfort. In her lap was his Norwegian Forest cat, rolled onto its back, all four paws involved in a game of capture the feather.

"Now I know why you like to stay here," she said, smiling up at him. They weren't supposed to have pets in their dorms.

Tony smiled back at her, then explained, "Found that little fella outside in the cold, tried to distract the security guard and sneak him in, but that didn't work, so now he lives here."

"What's his name?"

"Thor," he answered. "I mean, he's a cat, so falling from great heights without sustaining lasting damage isn't really a superpower, but he acts like an entitled bastard and hammers at my guitar with his paws when I play, so..."

"Don't call him a bastard," she complained, "He's cute."

"Yeah, and he knows that. Always gotta have it his way and gets away with anything," he said, chuckling. "I think he likes you. He hasn't liked anyone so far."

Lifting the cat from her lap, Virginia got to her feet. "That's because I'm special," she said, smirking. "And because he's not like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We connect."

"You and my ca—"

"We're totally vibing. Have been all morning. He may have even told me a few things about you..."

Tony raised an eyebrow at her. "Like?"

"You write songs," she answered.

"You went through my stuff?" His voice suddenly changed, taking on a darker tone, and Virginia wasn't sure if he was really mad or just a little upset.

"I didn't. You just forgot to hide it," she defended herself, gesturing at the coffee table. It was a paper with scribbled lyrics that she had found earlier, and it had taken her a moment to realize that she had heard the words before. "All the songs your band plays are yours?" Her voice went soft, her surprise evident.

"Is regular coffee okay?" he asked, ignoring her question, and walked over to the kitchen counter where he turned on the coffee machine. As he opened the cupboard to pull two cups out, he felt her eyes staring at his back, and it made him so uncomfortable that he chose to give her an answer after all. "Some of the music was a group sorta thing, but I wrote the lyrics," he stated, without any emotion in his voice, and stuck a mug under the coffee machine before pushing a button. "I'd like to keep this between us, thanks."

Virginia watched him, sensing that, for whatever reason, this was a touchy subject. She had no idea why he didn't want anyone to know, almost had the feeling as though he was insecure about it—who knew Tony Stark had insecurities—but if that was how he wanted it to be, she would leave it be. One thing that she really wondered, though, was if he could sing. She imagined him to have a beautiful voice. She couldn't explain what made her think that, she just did. And she would love to find out someday, to hear him sing.

"Here's your coffee." Virginia raised the mug to her lips and drank. He shoved the milk carton and sugar bowl toward her as she grimaced.

"Thank you," she murmured, spooning a generous amount of sugar into the dark brew. Then she added an equally large amount of milk.

"Like a little coffee in your milk, I see," Tony said wryly.

"I never liked the taste of the stuff, but sometimes I do need the effects," she replied as she took a sip of the doctored coffee. "Tony?" She put the mug down and looked at him.

"Mhm?"

"Can I just ask one more question about the, um... the songwriting?" He raised the cup to his mouth, nodding. "How do you write such beautiful lyrics if you've never been—"

"What? In love?"

He sounded offended, but as she looked straight into his eyes, they seemed to tell a different story. His eyes were brown mirrors reflecting all tragedy in the world. Virginia swallowed. What she was feeling right now started to really confuse her. It was the first time she thought of him as someone who wasn't a total asshole. But she just couldn't imagine that Tony Stark knew what love was, let alone how it felt to truly love someone. So, how could he write songs about it? Songs that spoke of so much love and heartbreak?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Listen, you don't want me to interfere with your life, so I'd appreciate it if you stayed out of mine," he grumbled, emptying his cup.

"Fine," she replied. "I should get dressed now anyway. It must be late. Thanks for the coffee."

She bumped into him as they moved at the same time. His face was only a few inches from away hers. The fragrance of Tony's cologne was interfering with her ability to focus, and all she could think about was, what if she turned her head and accidentally kissed him? Stepping back, Virginia looked at him. She was so wildly attracted to him, like a moth to a flame. But just like the moth, she too would get burned if she touched him. To be this attracted to a man she barely knew—that man being Tony Stark in particular—was scary. It was confusing, too.

Staring straight at the loose shirt covering Virginia's breasts, Tony found himself speculating about them. Were they small and round, like firm apples, or plump, soft ovals? The kind that settled into a man's palms, begging to be shaped by his fingers? Tipped by velvety pink nipples that tasted as sweet as candy, or brown ones that drew up tight and tart like berries? She was so sexy, hard for any man to resist, and sparking a desire in him to turn caveman, toss her over his shoulder and carry her to his private lair. He wanted to fuck her, just like he had in his imagination.

Virginia's gaze drifted down and she saw his erection straining his boxers. The thickness and length made her swallow hard as she felt heat spreading to the inside of her thighs, and her good sense leaking away. "Maybe you should take care of that," she said, as if she wasn't already thinking about doing it for him. "It sounded like you really enjoyed yourself last night."

He laughed out loud. "I always do," he remarked, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "But it would be more fun if you'd join me."

She couldn't even deny that he was telling the truth—for once. But she wouldn't allow herself to give in to the temptation, because knowing him, she would never going to live that one down. He would boast about it to everyone. Everyone would know that she'd had sex with Tony Stark, and she couldn't risk that, because unlike him she still had a reputation to lose. As much as she wanted him, she didn't want to make her life even more complicated. It wasn't worth it. She didn't need him. She just wanted him. That was her dilemma. Physically, she was really into him. Emotionally, she'd still rather stay miles away from him.

"Thanks for letting me stay, Tony. I appreciate it," she replied, completely ignoring what he'd said. Even the look on her face didn't give anything away about what was really going on inside her head, and lower—the way she wanted to sit on his cock, and slowly fuck her pussy up and down on his erection, then lock it inside her until she came.

"So you really wanna just leave, huh?" She nodded. "Well, then I'm just gonna let you go, 'cause contrary to what you may think, I'm a decent guy," he said, grinning. "And I don't want you to feel threatened by me."

"I don't, trust me," she countered.

"Good," he replied, holding out his hand to her.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you a proper goodbye?" He noticed how she was staring at his hand and he laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "I did wash my hands after playing the pink guitar, Pep. You can shake it, it's clean." The metaphor he used almost made her laugh. She didn't even realize she was smirking until he smirked back at her.

His hand looked rough and dry, as if used to hard work, but she bet it felt soft if it made contact with her skin. She hesitated before shaking it. When she did, touched him, even just to take his hand into hers, a profound warmth radiated up through her entire body. He squeezed her hand gently, and for a moment it was like he didn't want to let go. She didn't want to either. Their eyes met, and they both could feel the same strong desire they'd felt on the rooftop at Steve's party—the desire to share but a simple kiss.

"Bye, Tony," she spoke softly, grateful she had managed to form words.

"Until next time, Ms. Potts," he murmured, finally letting go of her hand.

"There won't—"

"Be a next time. I know," he cut her off, grinning at how good he had already become at finishing her sentences. "I had a good time, though," he quipped, as thoughts of last night entered his mind again.

"I guess it wasn't too bad," she said, her lips tipped up in a grin. She walked off, disappeared into the guest room and closed the door, sighing deeply as she rested her back against the wall. Maybe she was already far deeper into this mess than she had even realized. Her damn heart. She could never trust her damn heart.