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body div#devskin0 hr { }

A/N: I should be doing homework right now.

: [Wrong Place, Wrong Time] :Human!Tony the Talking Clock x Reader
: / : / : / : / : / : / : / : / : / : / :

  "There's a time and a place for mucking around!"

  "Whoa there friend, you might need to slow down~!"

Those two phrases kept echoing in your head over and over, stuck on loop as you cowered in the corner of the normally bright and cheery house. Especially the first one, a sentence that was said many times by the man that stood in front of you. He leered over your frightened form, glaring sternly at you as he admonished you like he would a child:

"There's a time and a place for mucking around!" He had hissed between his gritted teeth, like you were a young toddler he had lost his patience with. "And right then..." He began, his gloved finger pointed angrily at you as he leaned in, his nose nearly touching yours. "There was not a time or place for any of it!" The charismatic baritone of a voice that you usually enjoyed listening to had escalated into a deafening roar, one that caused you to press your hands to your ears as you looked at him, eyes wide and very scared. You began to shake as tears budded in the corners of your eyes, stuttering out an apology--

"I-I'm s-sorry..." You whispered, shrinking back further into the wall. "I-I'm really sorry T-Tony! It w-won't happen agai-" Your voice trailed off as Tony began to shake his head, abruptly turning away from you to pace the perimeter of the kitchen. "Tony...?" You asked softly, hesitantly. The broken remains of the record player were visible from your spot on the floor, lying shattered in the television room. Gulping, you saw him look at the remains of his beloved record player too, and again the pacing resumed, fury etched into his features. "I didn't mean t-to knock into it," You began, crawling forward, "Me and Manny were just m-messing around-"

  "Manny?" He asked, his voice dripping with malice, "You and Manny were just 'messing around'?" You whimpered as he snagged the back of your shirt and dragged you to the television room, forcing you to look at the fragments of his most prized possession.

"Should this kind of thing happen when you're just 'messing around'?!" He bellowed angrily, hands shaking as he pointed at the pile of splintered wood and shrapnel in front of your nose.

"N-no..." You whispered, gulping as your eyes were trained on the floor, not daring to look up at the man right next to you.

"What was that?" He hissed in your ear, his hot breath making you flinch. "I couldn't hear you." You exhaled shakily, your heart pounding in your ears as you raised your eyes to look him square in the face.

"No!" You said, much louder. The way the word tumbled out from your lips, this time steady instead of shaky, made you sound almost defiant. You liked it. It made you sound much stronger than you felt. However, Tony seemed to react two ways to your tone: first, he seemed displeased at the small hint of defiance, a small frown twitching at the corners of his mouth. But then, his lips spread into a wry smirk, his eyes glittering like a snake's. The words he uttered next made you shiver to the bone--

"So, what should your punishment be, (Name)?" He asked in a mock-innocent tone, the unsettling smile never leaving his face. A choked sob bubbled in the back of your throat as your eyes widened. There was only one punishment he could do, only one that he would accept. Only one that he would deem fit for your crime. Tears began to stream down your face as your eyes stared hard at your hands, which balled into fists on the floor. Tony's smile grew. He knew what he was going to do; so did you. So, without further ado, he pulled off the glove on his right hand, his dark blue fingers finding their way to your forehead. His thumb pressed right in the middle, his other fingers placing themselves around your forehead but still touching your skin.

He used his free hand to pull a small pocket mirror from one of his coat pockets, flipping it open and holding it in front of your face. Your tearful, red-faced expression filled the reflective surface, your panic painstakingly apparent. Tony seemed to lose his smirk, seemingly reluctant to follow through on what he planned to do. Yet he found himself reciting the words against his will--

"Sunrise, sunset, night and day,"

You began to fidget, wanting to shake his hand away.

"The changing seasons, the smell of hay--"

Tony seemed to genuinely frown now, his thumb beginning to pull away slightly from your forehead as he re-thought his actions. But he already had started. He couldn't stop now.

"Look at your hair grow, isn't it strange,"

You found yourself begging.

"Tony, please-!"

"How time makes your appearance change?"

The next thing you felt was a searing pain all over your body and a scream ripping from your throat. The surroundings around you began to distort as you felt yourself falling, you head smacking against the floor. You writhed and moaned and cried all at once as you felt yourself literally rotting from the inside out, aging decades in mere seconds. Through your agony you looked up at Tony, who seemed horrified at what he had done. His bare hand trembled, and the pocket mirror he had slid from his hands and dropped to the floor. You let one last unearthly howl leave your throat, as you were certain you had aged up to your point of death, until you heard a small shatter. It was the small mirror, its reflective surface smashing to bits on the floor. You managed to catch a glimpse of your face before it did, and immediately you wished you hadn't.

However, you didn't have time to be shocked by your withered, dying face. When the mirror broke, it stopped the spell. You became younger even faster than you aged, and in a moment you were gasping on the floor, the age you were supposed to be and no longer in pain. The only reminiscence of what had happened was a dull soreness throughout your body, but in light of what you had just experienced, you barely felt the ache. You were too stunned to cry, too appalled to scream, too busy catching your breath to say anything to the man in front of you. All you did was curl into a ball where you laid, eyes wide and simply shocked.

Tony himself seemed fairly shaken by what he saw, his mouth slightly agape as he looked at his hands. He couldn't believe he did that to you. You, of all people. He had let his nature get the best of him again. He allowed his rage to control him once more. He couldn't care less if he lost it on Manny, on Red, on Robin, or even Paige. But you were an exception... were. He kneeled beside you, hands hovering hesitantly over your body. His mouth seemed unable to form words, let alone an apology. You noticeably recoiled when his right hand went to touch your head, and suddenly remembering that his hand was bare, he quickly tugged his glove back on. As quickly as the red-hot fury he felt before hit him, it fled his body, leaving him feeling guilty and utterly disgusted with himself.

Now it was his turn to breathe shakily, to tremble where he knelt.

Now it was his turn to feel helpless, and to immensely regret what he had done.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

A/N: I should be doing homework right now.

: [Wrong Place, Wrong Time] :Human!Tony the Talking Clock x Reader
: / : / : / : / : / : / : / : / : / : / :

  "There's a time and a place for mucking around!"

  "Whoa there friend, you might need to slow down~!"

Those two phrases kept echoing in your head over and over, stuck on loop as you cowered in the corner of the normally bright and cheery house. Especially the first one, a sentence that was said many times by the man that stood in front of you. He leered over your frightened form, glaring sternly at you as he admonished you like he would a child:

"There's a time and a place for mucking around!" He had hissed between his gritted teeth, like you were a young toddler he had lost his patience with. "And right then..." He began, his gloved finger pointed angrily at you as he leaned in, his nose nearly touching yours. "There was not a time or place for any of it!" The charismatic baritone of a voice that you usually enjoyed listening to had escalated into a deafening roar, one that caused you to press your hands to your ears as you looked at him, eyes wide and very scared. You began to shake as tears budded in the corners of your eyes, stuttering out an apology--

"I-I'm s-sorry..." You whispered, shrinking back further into the wall. "I-I'm really sorry T-Tony! It w-won't happen agai-" Your voice trailed off as Tony began to shake his head, abruptly turning away from you to pace the perimeter of the kitchen. "Tony...?" You asked softly, hesitantly. The broken remains of the record player were visible from your spot on the floor, lying shattered in the television room. Gulping, you saw him look at the remains of his beloved record player too, and again the pacing resumed, fury etched into his features. "I didn't mean t-to knock into it," You began, crawling forward, "Me and Manny were just m-messing around-"

  "Manny?" He asked, his voice dripping with malice, "You and Manny were just 'messing around'?" You whimpered as he snagged the back of your shirt and dragged you to the television room, forcing you to look at the fragments of his most prized possession.

"Should this kind of thing happen when you're just 'messing around'?!" He bellowed angrily, hands shaking as he pointed at the pile of splintered wood and shrapnel in front of your nose.

"N-no..." You whispered, gulping as your eyes were trained on the floor, not daring to look up at the man right next to you.

"What was that?" He hissed in your ear, his hot breath making you flinch. "I couldn't hear you." You exhaled shakily, your heart pounding in your ears as you raised your eyes to look him square in the face.

"No!" You said, much louder. The way the word tumbled out from your lips, this time steady instead of shaky, made you sound almost defiant. You liked it. It made you sound much stronger than you felt. However, Tony seemed to react two ways to your tone: first, he seemed displeased at the small hint of defiance, a small frown twitching at the corners of his mouth. But then, his lips spread into a wry smirk, his eyes glittering like a snake's. The words he uttered next made you shiver to the bone--

"So, what should your punishment be, (Name)?" He asked in a mock-innocent tone, the unsettling smile never leaving his face. A choked sob bubbled in the back of your throat as your eyes widened. There was only one punishment he could do, only one that he would accept. Only one that he would deem fit for your crime. Tears began to stream down your face as your eyes stared hard at your hands, which balled into fists on the floor. Tony's smile grew. He knew what he was going to do; so did you. So, without further ado, he pulled off the glove on his right hand, his dark blue fingers finding their way to your forehead. His thumb pressed right in the middle, his other fingers placing themselves around your forehead but still touching your skin.

He used his free hand to pull a small pocket mirror from one of his coat pockets, flipping it open and holding it in front of your face. Your tearful, red-faced expression filled the reflective surface, your panic painstakingly apparent. Tony seemed to lose his smirk, seemingly reluctant to follow through on what he planned to do. Yet he found himself reciting the words against his will--

"Sunrise, sunset, night and day,"

You began to fidget, wanting to shake his hand away.

"The changing seasons, the smell of hay--"

Tony seemed to genuinely frown now, his thumb beginning to pull away slightly from your forehead as he re-thought his actions. But he already had started. He couldn't stop now.

"Look at your hair grow, isn't it strange,"

You found yourself begging.

"Tony, please-!"

"How time makes your appearance change?"

The next thing you felt was a searing pain all over your body and a scream ripping from your throat. The surroundings around you began to distort as you felt yourself falling, you head smacking against the floor. You writhed and moaned and cried all at once as you felt yourself literally rotting from the inside out, aging decades in mere seconds. Through your agony you looked up at Tony, who seemed horrified at what he had done. His bare hand trembled, and the pocket mirror he had slid from his hands and dropped to the floor. You let one last unearthly howl leave your throat, as you were certain you had aged up to your point of death, until you heard a small shatter. It was the small mirror, its reflective surface smashing to bits on the floor. You managed to catch a glimpse of your face before it did, and immediately you wished you hadn't.

However, you didn't have time to be shocked by your withered, dying face. When the mirror broke, it stopped the spell. You became younger even faster than you aged, and in a moment you were gasping on the floor, the age you were supposed to be and no longer in pain. The only reminiscence of what had happened was a dull soreness throughout your body, but in light of what you had just experienced, you barely felt the ache. You were too stunned to cry, too appalled to scream, too busy catching your breath to say anything to the man in front of you. All you did was curl into a ball where you laid, eyes wide and simply shocked.

Tony himself seemed fairly shaken by what he saw, his mouth slightly agape as he looked at his hands. He couldn't believe he did that to you. You, of all people. He had let his nature get the best of him again. He allowed his rage to control him once more. He couldn't care less if he lost it on Manny, on Red, on Robin, or even Paige. But you were an exception... were. He kneeled beside you, hands hovering hesitantly over your body. His mouth seemed unable to form words, let alone an apology. You noticeably recoiled when his right hand went to touch your head, and suddenly remembering that his hand was bare, he quickly tugged his glove back on. As quickly as the red-hot fury he felt before hit him, it fled his body, leaving him feeling guilty and utterly disgusted with himself.

Now it was his turn to breathe shakily, to tremble where he knelt.

Now it was his turn to feel helpless, and to immensely regret what he had done.