A/N - This imagine is based on the song 'Goody Two Shoes' by Adam Ant. It's a really catchy song and I love it. The chapter has some NSFW themes, but no actually NSFW scenes. I hope you all enjoy it.
Nat had been so insistent that a Tony Stark party was something you had to experience at least once in your life. Apparently, living in the lap of luxury agreed with her, but you weren't so convinced. The entire room, somewhere deep in the maze that was Stark Tower, was full to bursting with drunk people, moving haphazardly to the music blaring through the many speakers that lined the room. It was safe to assume that Nat had completely underestimated your lack of interest in parties.
You sat on one of the many plush sofas, watching as Nat was kept in deep conversation by one of her work friends. You had to admit, the furnishings were comfortable. No, more than comfortable, it was like sitting on pure heaven. But, it was no consolation for how rubbish you felt, sitting sipping water whilst everyone else was having what seemed to be the best night of their lives. You never should have come.
You got to your feet, smoothing out your skirt as you made your way over to one of the doors. It truly was a lovely view of New York, and as you pushed out into the cool evening air, you were suddenly very happy that you had attended. God, this city was beautiful from up here, away from the bad smells and heaving streets.
You hadn't even realised there was anyone else out here when someone spoke up, causing you to start slightly. "No one usually comes out here."
"Oh," you started softly, swallowing slightly as you allowed your eyes to find the man who had spoken. Tony Stark himself. "Sorry, I can leave," you added, gesturing towards the door.
He smiled slightly, shaking his head. "No. It'd be good to have some company." You nodded, moving to lean against the railing, and flinching when you felt how cold it was on your bare skin. "I'm Tony."
"Y/N," you answered softly, turning your attention back to the view in front of you, the lights twinkling out across the city.
"Natasha's friend, right?" You nodded. "Wow, didn't think you actually existed."
You chuckled slightly, glancing over at him for a moment. "She's good at keeping secrets."
Tony snorted, "yeah, she is." You were both quiet for a moment, and you allowed yourself to return to your tourist-esque staring, taking in as much of the city as you could. "What are you drinking?"
"Water," you answered softly, eyes not drifting from their fixation.
"Too much to drink already? That's impressive."
"Oh, no," you started again, shaking your head. "I just don't drink."
Tony let out a bubble of laughter, swirling his drink around in his glass. "What's that like?"
You answered with a short shrug, "I've never known anything else." Tony looked confused, his brow furrowed as he watched you. "I mean," you started again, smiling, "I've had the odd glass of champagne at a wedding, or something, but i've never been a drinker."
"Oh," Tony sent you a small smirk. "So, you're a goody two shoes?"
A surprised laugh burst out of you, and you shook your head. "I am not a goody two shoes."
"Well, you don't drink. And I can assume you don't smoke." Tony paused for a moment, and you pouted.
"You assume correctly."
The laugh that Tony let out was loud and brash, and left you utterly speechless. "Such a typical good girl."
"And what? You're a bad boy?" You attempted to sound firm, but instead the words came out whiney.
"Don't take it so personally, sweetheart. There's nothing wrong with being a goody goody."
You scowled at him for a moment. "You didn't answer my question."
"I am the stereotypical bad boy, yes." You could see the teasing in Tony's eyes, and yet you couldn't help but take his words personally.
"I think you're wrong about me."
"Oh yeah?" Tony's smirk was back again, firmly set in place. "Then tell me one thing that makes you anything other than a good girl."
You frowned, running your tongue over your teeth as you thought. "I swear."
"Everyone swears, Princess, that doesn't make you special."
You were pouting now, so fixated on proving him wrong that you couldn't see the way his eyes lingered on your lips for a moment. "There was this one time," you started again, drawing his attention back to your eyes, as you began to smile, certain in your new confession. "When I just walked through the barrier without paying for the Metro."
Tony chuckled. "And I bet you felt bad about it for weeks." Your smile dropped. "Face it, you're a good girl. There's nothing wrong with that."
You were so caught up in being right that you didn't think before saying your next words. "I'm not a good girl," you exclaimed softly, "I've fucked plenty of men, and I sometimes block their numbers so I don't have to see them again.
Tony looked startled for a moment, his jaw hanging slack, lips slightly parted as he watched you. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," you continued, "And I like fucking where I could get caught, so I can't be all good, can I?" It was as though someone suddenly flicked a switch in your brain and suddenly, you realised the words that had just left your mouth. "Sorry, that was inappropriate," you uttered, voice suddenly flat and quiet.
"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. You can't shock me." Tony paused for a moment, reaching out a patting your arm slightly. "I'll concede. You aren't a goody two shoes."
You shook your head, managing a small smile. "Thank you."
"You really don't like being wrong, do you?"
A small chuckle escaped you. "Nope, I hate it."
The both of you were quiet for a moment, looking out over Manhattan once more. "Can I have your number?" You glanced over at him, smiling. "I think we should go out for dinner some time."
"Yeah?" You asked softly, attempting to hold back the bright smile you wanted to give him.
"Yeah."
You nodded. "Give me your phone, then."
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