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bramblesbriars · 7 months

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Middle of the Night: Chapter 3

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Terry Silver is a prominent business owner, who happens to be a powerful vampire leader in the LA area. From waste disposal to escort services, Terry has a market for just about everything. But when a strapping new intern arrives from the local community college, he begins to rethink his priorities.

Trigger warning: This story is filled with drugs, smut and less than pleasant situations. Definitely 18+

Margaret got the transfer paperwork to Daniel at Terry's request, noting that the kid seemed to have promise in marketing. Not to mention the marketing team reported directly to him and there was no work around like there was with the sales team, too many supervisors to compete with. The reclusive CEO made sure to be just that for the rest of the week, hiding in his office and refusing all inquiries, except for his assistant of course. There were the rare excursions to the other departments as he scoped the interns for new bloods. None had the appeal he needed. Most were so sure of themselves, proud, on the verge of alpha material and he just wasn't in the mood for knocking some frat boys down a peg or two.

Not to mention they didn't have the same sway as that other little one, LaRusso. Terry had been doing this a long time, he knew a good thing when he saw one. Hell, when a scent hit him. Daniel gave off that vibe. Feisty, naive, and adorable if the man had to admit it. He would be perfect for his services, and customers would eat him up, quite literally. All the kid had to do was pass orientation.

"Orientation" was a process, even for Terry who typically threw off responsibilities on his servants. But some things he couldn't put off on others. As soon as he knew Daniel would be coming, he began to plan and organize the penthouse he kept on the opposite side of the city. The pad he kept specifically for play, not for living. He had the space cleaned and stocked with food and wine, unsure of where the night may take them. He had to be prepared for the unexpected, after all. True, he had told the teen that the job didn’t require any “heavy lifting” as it were, but that didn’t mean things wouldn’t get out of hand from time to time.

As an employer, Terry had to make sure his potential employees were ready in the face of any unexpected intrusions. Usually, the intrusions were some Johns getting handsy with the escorts and wanting more than they paid for. It didn’t happen often, but the potential was always there in that world, nothing was sunshine and rainbows all the time.

Those same thoughts of rainbows and bright eyes filled Terry as seven o’clock approached, the man setting out the decanter and filling it with the best whiskey he had on hand. He knew little of Daniel, apart from his academic mishaps and what the sales team had to say about him. What pitiful amount of information he had was decent, but he wanted more and in order to get what he needed the kid had to loosen up a bit. There was the rub. Daniel seemed like a stick in the mud, a stickler for the rules. Though, Terry had been wrong about people before, he wondered if the teen would drink or even touch drugs. If not, then the evening would be a bust.

A while later, a soft knock pulled Terry away from arranging pillows in the guest room, pacing up the hall to answer the door. There was still over an hour before Daniel was expected to show up, so Terry thought it was one of the servants returning with some supplies he had sent them out to get. Given that he thought there was still time to get ready, he hadn’t changed out of his ratty Stanford t-shirt, answering the door how he normally would, hair a mess.

“About time. How long does it take to get…” Terry paused, gaze locking with the same doe eyes from the office. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were one of the servants.”

Daniel’s breath caught in his throat, not expecting to be yelled at as soon as the door opened. While the other explained, his eyes wandered Terry’s disheveled appearance, soaking in the loose fit of the shirt around his frame and how his curls fell over his forehead. A warmth rose to his cheeks, swallowing a lump in his throat. Damn, was he planning on wearing that all evening? The man was distracting enough on his own, now he had the messy bed head thing going on.

“It’s fine.” He inhaled, shifting weight from foot to foot. “Did I over dress?” Daniel had opted for a pink dress shirt, the first button undone to be a little daring. After all, he didn’t know what to expect from this orientation thing. Certainly not a casually clad Terry Silver screaming at him.

“Oh, no. But you’re early.” Terry stepped to the side, motioning the beta inside. “Please, make yourself at home while I get dressed.”

“Right, thanks.” The brunette wandered from the door towards what looked like a living area, setting his bag down by the sofa. He heard the door close and bare feet shuffle off somewhere on the tiled floor.

Once alone, Daniel left the side of the sofa, moving to stand at the massive windows that overlooked the city. He swore he could see the whole of Los Angeles, the Valley shimmering in the golden light of the setting sun. How people lived with views like that every day was a wonder to him, but it was something he could have gotten used to. So, he marveled at it while he could, catching the first glimpse of purple haze as it drifted up from the city in the distance. For a moment, he forgot where he was or what he was there to do. An unfamiliar comfort warmed his chest, as if he had been frozen his whole life and was just now introduced to the heat of the sun.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Terry placed a hand on the teen’s shoulder, grip gentle. “I’m guessing you don’t get to see it from this angle very often?” He felt Daniel stiffen, the same brisk maple from before filling the alpha’s nose. This time it was sweeter, the kid’s scent having a sugary after taste.

“No…No, I don’t.” Daniel didn’t move from the other’s grip, eyes glued out towards the darkening cityscape. “I got to see Newark a bunch, but it was nothing like this.” He shook his head as he spoke, finally looking up at Terry.

He was relieved to see that the man had changed into a dress shirt of his own, only he was far more lenient with the buttons that he left undone. Dark locks were still unruly, gaining some stares from the beta. This guy didn’t look like he should be in business at all. More like he belonged on the cover of Vogue. That chocolate gaze didn’t go unnoticed either, though Terry didn’t seem to mind.

“Jersey? I thought that accent was familiar.” Raven hair swayed as he flashed a smile, releasing the teen’s shoulder to smack his back. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine, whiskey?” Terry drifted over to the liquor cabinet, setting out some glasses for them.

“Water, is fine, thanks.” That wasn’t going to fly. If this orientation was going to work out then Daniel was going to have to imbibe at some point, whether he wanted to or not.

A soft sigh slipped passed Terry’s lips, cocking his head to glance back at the brunette. After years of working with people, he had earned a knack for reading faces, and a perk of that, was drink making. Once he studied the teen, he turned back to the bottles that lined the table, mixing a drink that he thought would suit the beta. Naturally, there was water on the side.

“Martini.” Terry offered up the drink, a glass of whiskey in his opposite hand. “It’s not going to kill you.” He raised a brow at Daniel as he sipped his own beverage, a grin curling against the rim of the glass.

Daniel hesitated, staring at the drink. It was rude not to accept it, even if he wasn’t a big drinker. He took it, nodding a thank you to his employer before sipping the concoction. His nose scrunched, the vodka stung his throat and made his eyes water. He would have coughed had he not taken another swig to mask his shame, but he didn’t want to seem like a wuss.

“It’s good.” He croaked, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “I don’t drink a lot, heh. I’ve only ever had a couple beers.” The admission didn’t surprise Terry, nor did Daniel’s reaction to the amount of alcohol that he had snuck into the beverage. If anything, it was refreshing. Most of the interns he interacted with were more than used to alcohol and were heavy party goers. Daniel was already showing some promise.

“Hm, if there’s anything you’re interested in trying let me know. I can make a fair bit.” His smile widened, taking another sip of whiskey. “Mm, the good old east coast. How did you end up out here in Hollywoodland?”

“My mom wanted a better life for us, so she got a job out here last year.” As he spoke, Daniel swished the liquid around in his glass. “She’s back in Jersey now though, taking care of our uncle.” His voice trailed off, taking another small sip.

“You’re here alone?” Maybe the excitement was a little too evident in Terry’s voice, Daniel quick to shake his head and gesture a hand at the man.

“Oh, no. I’m staying with a friend, well, he’s my sensei actually.” While the teen rambled about karate and how he met Mr. Miyagi, Terry finished his first drink of the evening, doing his best to pace himself.

“I suppose that means we have something in common then.” The pair lingered by the window for a while, comparing fight stories and techniques. Both found that they shared, not only a love for the art of karate, but also an appreciation for Japanese history and culture. “I never get off the mainland much when I visit Japan. I’ll have to try to get over to Okinawa more often.”

“It’s beautiful.” Daniel hummed a pink flush to his cheeks by the time he had finished his drink. “I doubt I’ll ever get to go back, but I’m grateful I got to go at least once.” He looked at his empty glass, chewed the inside of his cheek then raised it to Terry. “Can I have another one?”

“Of course.” Oh, Daniel was perfect. Those innocent eyes and slight tone, no client would be able to resist that precious face. “And you never know, you might get to go back one day.” Terry commented as he fixed another martini for the kid. It was while he was making the drink that the faint aroma of food wafted from the kitchen and into the living space.

Dinner must have been ready judging from the delicious smells that invaded both of their noses and given that a helper approached Terry from the kitchen. Apparently, the servant had returned to the penthouse a while ago, Terry none the wiser, and far too caught up in his conversation with Daniel to notice. The woman whispered and made a slight hand motion towards Terry, who then nodded and turned back to Daniel with the drink in hand.

“Have you eaten yet?” When the teen shook his head, a smile spread wide across his face. “Good. Come eat dinner with me.” He handed the martini to Daniel as he spoke, leading the starry-eyed beta away from the window and over towards a table that was being set with their food. “Hope you like chicken.”

“I do. My mom makes a mean chicken cacciatore.” He grinned, but it faded when he realized how much he made himself sound like a child. How many times had he mentioned his mother already? God, he reminded himself of a homesick baby that was lost in the great, open world. How pathetic was that?

“LaRusso, that’s Italian right?” When the teen nodded, the man continued. “Definitely explains a lot.” Terry grinned as he pulled a chair out for Daniel to sit down, breathing a laugh when he received a questionable glance. “Sorry, you’re just the spitting definition of a little feisty Italian.”

Daniel wasn’t exactly sure how to take that, but he sat down when he was offered a seat at the table. His arms raised slightly as the chair was abruptly shoved closer to the table with no effort at all. The sudden movement sent a jolt through his system, granted he wasn’t very heavy, but he had never experienced that before, being treated so chivalrous. Proper table etiquette wasn’t something he had been taught but he had seen enough movies to know not to place his elbows on the table. The table setting resembled pictures from a fancy magazine he had seen once, unnecessary decorations that took up precious space where food could have gone instead.

Regardless of what he thought of the décor, as soon as the chicken hit the table, Daniel’s mouth was watering. Terry’s advice to eat light had been given in earnest and he hadn’t had anything at all that day due to his nerves being twisted into a knot. Now it was coming back to haunt him, stomach grumbling from under the table. The chicken, or what the teen assumed was chicken, smelt seasoned, garnished with tomatoes, and caramelized onions, or maybe it was peppers. It was hard to tell.

After the table was set, Terry reached over to take Daniel’s plate, loading it with chicken before he paused and motioned at what looked like asparagus. The brunette made a face, to which Terry nodded and plopped a spoonful of what resembled fancy macaroni and cheese on his plate, handing it back to the teen. Daniel thanked him quietly, face red from being treated with such kindness.

Was that normal or just part of the orientation thing? He had never had someone push him up to a table or fix his plate for him, well, apart from his mother. The entire experience was so strange, yet his chest warmed at how nice the attention felt. Maybe, he could get used to that.

The pair ate mostly in silence, Daniel focused on how loud he was eating or where his arms were situated. His concern didn’t go unnoticed either, the man across from him cocking a sly grin half way through dinner. Another check mark for the kid. He was so clueless, so out of his element that Terry could smell the distress from over the scent of chicken at the table. To say that it was distracting, was an understatement, and by the time dinner was ending, Terry was craving something far different for dessert.

“How was it?” Blue eyes locked with Daniel’s, reflecting the light of the chandelier.

“It was great.” Daniel smiled, the expression soft as he leaned back in his chair, ready to push himself away from the table. “I really appreciate dinner, Mr. Silver. I wasn’t expecting it if I’m honest.”

“I told you to eat light, remember.” Terry tsked. “I wasn’t going to have you come over and be hungry.” He shook his head just before he stood, seeing that his guest was beginning to grow antsy. Unlike Daniel, Terry hadn’t touched much of his dinner, a good deal of food left on his plate. “Nor would I want you to be bored.”

“You’re not going to eat?” The question went ignored by the man who by that time stalked behind his guest’s chair. Hands gripped the back of Daniel’s seat, sliding him away from the table so that he could stand if he wanted to. The teen paused, that last comment rubbing him the wrong way. Why would he be worried about Daniel getting bored? It was meant to be an orientation, and this was beginning to feel like a date.

A date. Oh, God, is that what this was? Some kind of ploy to get Daniel out with him? For a moment he sat there, able to feel those large hands start to trail along the sides of the chair and get dangerously close to his arms. He felt hot breath on his neck, the hair raising to meet the lips that teased them. Was he imagining things? Maybe it was all a part of this stupid orientation that Terry had went on about. Yeah, that had to be it, right?

“Are you ready for dessert?” His voice was right in Daniel’s ear, breath tickling his lobe. Startled at the invasion of space, the beta sprung from his chair and rounded the table, tan cheeks a deep crimson.

“I probably should get going!” He announced soft pheromones clinging to his body. “Before it gets too late…”

“But Danny-boy, it’s still early.” His grip on the chair tightened, eyes narrow at the younger male. “Remember, this isn’t some game you can just walk away from.” That cold stare eased, regulating his breathing in an attempt to keep his cool. “We still need to finish getting you adjusted.”

“I don’t want to get adjusted.” Daniel snapped. “Look, I appreciate dinner and how nice you’ve been, but I can’t do this. It feels wrong.”

Sickening maple filled the room, causing Terry to turn his nose up at the kid. An idea roused in him then, waving a finger towards Daniel before he disappeared back over by the liquor cabinet. Even with two drinks in him Daniel was still on edge and that didn’t bode well for the evening, which meant it was time to take it up a notch. If Daniel went through with the deal, then the beta would have to get acquainted with the hard stuff anyway. Better sooner than later.

Too unsure of himself to leave on his own accord, Daniel stood by the dining room table until Terry reappeared, a glass of water in one hand and something else in his other. A baggy, from the looks of it, white powder clinging to its corners. Everything in his body tensed, telling him to run, to bolt out of that penthouse and back down to his truck. But he just stood there, staring at the man as he came towards him with the mysterious dust.

“What if I told you this would make it feel right?” Terry held out his hand, the bag nestled into the crevice of his palm. The powder had a blue quality to it, little shiny flecks that glowed in the light, mesmerizing the teen. “We can do it together, so you won’t trip alone.”

That was meant to make him feel better? He had never touched a drug in his entire life, and he was supposed to start now? The good little boy in him made him shake his head, backing up until he felt a hard surface against him.

“Drugs?” A hand raised, though it trembled. “Listen, just forget the whole thing, Mr. Silver. I’ll find another internship.” The man just got closer, Daniel’s head beginning to swim as he stared at the baggy. This wasn’t what he had expected at all. When Terry told him that he was going to go through orientation, he imagined weird pamphlets, maybe an awkward talk or meeting some clients like his boss had mentioned. But to be offered drugs?

“I don’t think you understand, Danny-boy.” It was Terry’s turn to shake his head. “There are no other internships for you.” He again thrust the bag and glass forward towards the beta, brows narrowed. “If you don’t follow my lead on this, you won’t get anywhere. I’ll make sure of it.” Silence filled the penthouse, rank cedar mixed with terrified maple surrounded the two.

“But…why? There are other interns, go mess with them!” When his voice raised Terry didn’t even flinch, he just scoffed. Daniel’s shoulders slumped, again glancing at the bag that the other held before he met the alpha’s piercing gaze. “They won’t do what you want them to do, will they?”

“Oh, they will.” Terry set the glass aside and turned, opening the baggy. “But I’m not interested in them.” While he spoke, he emptied the contents of the bag onto the dining room table, using a clean knife to cut two lines, one for each of them. When he finished, he glanced over his shoulder at Daniel, smile faint. “I want you.”

Lucky him. How he kept finding himself in these situations was beyond him, but he wanted, no, needed a break after this. Once the lines were cut, Terry motioned for Daniel to come join him by the side of the table, the man taking out and rolling a hundred-dollar bill for them to use. His veins were like ice, guilt oozing from every pore in the form of nasty sugary maple blended with sandalwood. The hope was that the coke would calm the kid and mellow out his scent, and not make it any worst, but there was always that possibility.

“I’m guessing you’ve never done this before?” Terry raised a brow at him, placing the rolled bill to one of the lines. “It’s not too bad. It’ll burn like a bitch the first time, then it’ll knock you on your ass for a minute or two.” It surely didn’t sound like something Daniel wanted, why did people do this stuff?

In one motion, Terry inhaled the line, dropping the bill and tilting his head back so the coke had an easier time as it creeped through his air way. He coughed, clearing his throat while he rubbed his nose to get the last little bit down. It didn’t look too bad, just one movement? He could do that, it was like learning karate…right?

When it was his turn though, Daniel was much more hesitant, holding the rolled bill between his fingers. The teen swallowed, body going stiff as a hand was placed to the back of his head, fingertips dragging along his scalp to the nape of his neck. He’d never been pampered like that before, not even by the girls he’d dated, it was so tender and unfamiliar. What the hell was going on?

Without thinking, he dipped his head and snorted half of the line before he began to cough and hack into his sleeve. Brown eyes watered from the disgusting taste at the back of his throat, taking the water from where Terry had left it on the edge of the table. Jesus! How did anyone do that crap? It was like his whole throat was on fire, chest tight while he attempted to grab for a chair to sit back into. He managed to find one, resting an elbow on his knee, head in his hand.

Laughter caused him to glance up, Terry getting a nice chuckle out of the whole scene. Oh, that burned Daniel’s hide. The last person who had laughed at him had ended up with a busted eye, granted he had gotten the worst end of the deal in that fight. But still, he wasn’t about to let Terry think he couldn’t handle a little powder. Much to Terry’s surprise, Daniel slammed the water down and finished the remainder of the line, leaning back in the chair with only a little bit of coughing. But he still did it, and that was enough to get the kid in Terry’s good graces.

The left-over residue on the table was swept up by the alpha, enough left to make one more line. Daniel stared as Terry took the hit this time, brushing the rest aside to put into the bag, not that much was left after that. The man’s eyes were like glass when he looked at him, pupils starting to dilate.

“Not bad, LaRusso.” A hand squeezed the kid’s shoulder. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” There was a quiver in the man’s grip, and truthfully, one was beginning in Daniel’s as well.

“What…What does it do?” Apart from the slight tremble in his hands, there was a numbness at the back of his throat, he assumed from where he had inhaled it. Terry explained that there were a few ways it could affect him, anywhere from a bout of energy to a feeling of paranoia. None of which sounded good while trapped in a penthouse with a strange man.

“So, the stuff makes you crazy.” Daniel mumbled. “I’ve never done drugs before, I don’t…”

“You’ll be fine. It’s easier when you’re with someone the first time.” Terry reassured the teen, gesturing for him to stand. “It’ll take a few minutes before you really feel it. In the meantime,” Once Daniel stood, a hand clasped hold of his, fingers interlocking with his own. “Let me show you something.”

What else could Terry possibly show him? Having his hand held like that sent knots curling through his stomach, chest fluttering, and by that time Daniel didn’t know if it was the drugs, the drink or Terry. Being led from the dining room and back into the living room, Daniel was eventually let go, watching as the alpha opened a tall cabinet.

“Whoa, no way!” His eyes sparkled as he took in the technology that the cabinet drawer hid, a small television set and radio just underneath it, complete with a record organizer on the lower shelf. Daniel had seen them in stores and magazines but never up close, and television was something he just didn’t have at Mr. Miyagi’s.

“What kind of music do you like?” Terry pulled a record from the lower shelf, flipping it in his hands before he set it on top of the cabinet for later. “I have a little bit of everything. The Cars, Chicago, I’m sure there’s some metal in here somewhere. Though you don’t strike me as someone who likes that kind of stuff.” He smiled over his shoulder then, something about the way he cut his eyes at Daniel sending a pink shade to the teen’s face.

“Any…Anything is fine. I’m not picky.” Which wasn’t entirely true, he wasn’t big into metal, like Terry assumed, but he did like most other music. “Maybe something with a little beat to it?” If he weren’t buzzed, he probably wouldn’t have wanted to listen to anything at all.

“You’re more than welcome to choose something.” Terry stepped aside from the collection of records so that Daniel could take a peek. He watched as the curious beta dragged a finger over the labels, leaving his side to make them both another drink.

While he mixed the vodka and cranberry juice for Daniel’s Cosmopolitan, he couldn’t help but stare at the teen’s backside. The dress pants fit around his waist just right with the help of a belt, a little snug when they got to his hips. A perky ass complete the picture, though his pants left some to the imagination. To say Terry was disappointed that the other man hadn’t opted to wear tight fitting jeans was an understatement.

“Oh, you have Naked Eyes!” Daniel blurted as he plucked a record from the shelf, his tone lulling Terry’s attention back up to his face. He watched Daniel read the back of the record’s casing and remove it from the sleeve, placing it on the player. The needle skipped, having to be reset before a song began, low tunes vibrating the speakers that were made into the cabinet.

The song was familiar but not too well known to Terry, though as he stared at the little beta, he wished he knew it better. Ocean eyes were entranced by the slow sway of hips, nearly spilling his whiskey when he poured his drink. Inhaling, the alpha composed himself as best he could, crossing the room to hand Daniel his Cosmo.

“Found one, I see.” He mused, taking a much-needed swig of whiskey. “Feeling right yet?” There wasn’t even a need to ask. Poor Daniel’s pupils were shot, cheeks flushed, and Terry was willing to bet that if he touched him, he’d crumble like a piece of chalk. Not that he dared to, not yet.

“Is it supposed to feel so hot?” It wasn’t an uncomfortable heat, almost like sitting in a bathhouse. The drink Terry gave him helped, cooling his throat, and chasing off the lingering numbness from the coke.

“You get used to it.” Raven hair got tucked back behind his ear, taking another sip.

Soon they were both rocking to the music, Daniel more so than Terry, his drink nearly gone by the time it ended. As the second track began, the beta perked up, his movements more erratic. The coke was definitely doing its job, mixing with the vodka to give the kid an extra kick. He was too distracted by the music to notice a hand slip round his waist, the grip loose at first before fingers dug into his belt.

“Hm?” Daniel rolled his hip away from the grasp only to press back into Terry, another hand coming round to touch his stomach. “Ah…What?” He pulled away, turning to face the alpha, scent a mess thanks to the drugs and alcohol. “You said it wouldn’t be like that.”

“Sometimes it might be.” Terry snaked a hand across Daniel’s jaw and up through his hair, curling soft waves round his fingers before letting him go. “You have to be ready to deal with it when it happens.” As soon as Daniel motioned an open palm at him, Terry was quick to grab it, twisting the teen’s wrist. His grin melted just as soon as it came, releasing the other’s hand.

“What if…What if they don’t stop?” There was a slight sting where Terry had grabbed him, rubbing the faint mark that had been left behind.

Such a quiet question, it almost went unnoticed. Terry strained to hear the beta and struggled to answer for a moment afterwards. It was a tricky situation. Not all Johns were assholes who raped escorts after all, but there had been a few in the past he had to deal with personally. Daniel had the potential to protect himself, knowing karate made him a special case. But there was always the chance of someone overpowering the kid, Terry wouldn’t doubt it.

“If they don’t stop,” He rolled his tongue into his cheek. “Do what you can, until you can’t anymore.” Terry sighed. “Either way, I’ll take care of them eventually.”

“I don’t think I can do this, Mr. Silver.” A shaky breath wracked his frame, honey eyes cast towards the floor. “I rather not get involved in something like that if I can help it. I try to avoid conflict where I can.” All evidence to the contrary, however.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Danny-boy.” Terry backed off, his glass empty and forgotten on an end table by the entertainment cabinet. “I think you just need a little more faith in yourself.” That faith came in the form of another baggy, this one being pulled from a small drawer at the bottom of the cabinet. “One more?”

Every fiber of Daniel’s being screamed no, his mouth even opening to tell Terry off with a few choice words. But nothing came out, just a pitiful sound like an animal caught in a trap. He swallowed as the crystal was dumped on the end table, two lines again divided out, he assumed one for each of them. When the rolled bill was handed to him, Daniel realized his hand was shaking and he was quick to tuck the trembling appendage back into his side.

“I’m good. It…It’s best if I don’t.” Enough was enough. He had already done so much he was ashamed of and to go overboard, Daniel wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. That didn’t stop his employer from trying, the man’s brow furrowing the longer the teen stalled.

“The more you take, the better you’ll feel about everything. Just. Take. It.” Both men stood there for what felt like an eternity, blue eyes smiling at how conflicted the teen appeared. “Unless you want to be a total disappointment?” Oh, that struck a nerve.

Daniel jerked the rolled bill from Terry’s fingers, hissing some curses and other lovely names at him. The alpha just smirked, taking Daniel’s Cosmo, and setting it aside so he could snort a line. Tapping some remaining powder from the inside of bill, Daniel took a shaky breath before he did the line, bangs falling over his teary eyes. Just like before, his throat burned then went numb, the hairs in his nose tickling with residual powder.

A curse slipped under his breath, the rolled bill tight in his fist while he coughed. Terry was just about to praise the kid, his cheeky grin fading into a scowl when Daniel once again leaned over the table. The alpha’s words must have hit deeper than he thought, watching as the second line was sucked up in one quick motion, the kid getting better with every hit. He only cleared his throat that time, just sniffing and rubbing his nose as he held the rolled bill up to his host.

Never had an intern taken so quickly to his shenanigans, even if he was agitated. Daniel was a rare bird, and the longer Terry stood there with the teen, the more dangerous this whole situation became. A lump welled in his throat, tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth. He had wanted that other line for himself but hell, it was best if Daniel had it. Loosen the brat up a bit.

“Damn, kid.” Terry’s grin spread wide, sticking the rolled bill back in his wallet for later use. “I bet you’re feeling it now. I’ve never seen a newbie take a hit like that before.” Yeah, it was obvious the kid was feeling right, for sure. Pupils were blown wide, cheeks a beautiful shade of red and a soft heat radiated from Daniel’s body. Coke never lasted too long, but hitting multiple lines back-to-back? Those would get him through at least an hour.

“My chest kind of feels weird.” He put a hand to his breast. “I’m not dying, am I? Am I overdosing?” His eyes widened, the sheer terror in that stare brought Terry’s smirk down a level. Hands clasped the beta’s shoulders, giving him a small shake.

Doe eyes met Terry’s, hands bunched in the man’s dress shirt while he regained himself. His breathing slowed, having those hands on his shoulders slide up and down his arms. Maybe that was what Terry had meant when he said that the coke could make him paranoid. That definitely wasn’t the feeling he had been expecting but as the horrible sensation faded, another far better one rose to the surface. Small fingers kneaded the fabric of Terry’s shirt, admiring the deep violet hue and how it suited the man’s pallor. He had noted how handsome his boss was before, sure, but now that he was that close to him, and they were alone, it was getting hard to ignore. Equally distracting was the growing need that gnawed away inside of him, something so foreign towards a man he didn’t even know, and a man in general. Daniel didn’t have the capacity to process those feelings, everything bubbling to the surface.

Sweet vanilla clung to the beta, pleasant undertones of honey drifting from his glands. It wasn’t rare for cocaine, or most drugs in general, to cause false heats, Terry had expected as much. But the smell, how thick the scent was as it invaded his brain, tried to lure him in deeper. He released the other male finally, half turning towards the entertainment cabinet where he pulled another record from the shelf.

“You should start to feel a little better.” Was all he said as he switched out the records, replacing Naked Eyes with Duran Duran. The music started, curls bouncing as he shifted to face Daniel. “Three lines won’t kill you unless the stuff is laced with something. Never take a product from someone else unless it’s me.” There was the lecture he had been expecting, only it was on a completely different subject. “Some clients I know personally, and they can be trusted, others I wouldn’t take a single thing they give me. Drinks, drugs, food. Nothing.”

While Terry spoke, Daniel studied the alpha’s jawline, stare falling to the man’s mouth. Absently licking his lips, he was becoming far more interested in the man himself and less in what he was saying. Sure, it was probably important, but so was getting a hold of that soft tongue. His eyes flicked back up to Terry’s then, knowing he had been caught by how the man grinned. Not that he cared in that moment, he was bold enough to flash a smile of his own, basking in the glow of his high.

“What am I allowed to get from you?” Came the next question, Daniel’s voice low as he chewed his bottom lip, playing with a button of his shirt before popping it from its slot. The music droned in his ear, body swaying on its own as he stood by Terry’s side. “Just alcohol and drugs or…other things?”

“Depends on what it is that you want, Mr. LaRusso.” Truthfully, he was shocked to see Daniel behave as such, but was he going to complain? Not in the least. He watched as another button was slid from its home, eyes lingering on the beta’s collar bone. Teeth sank into the soft skin of his lip. God, this kid was trying his patience. “What is it you want exactly, Danny-boy?”

There was a short pause, two more buttons being undone before Daniel directed his attention to Terry, attempting to touch him. A pout graced his lips when his hand was snatched and squeezed, whimpering at the sudden change in the other man. Did he really have to say it? It wasn’t enough to throw himself at the man like a common whore, no, he had to beg to be touched. The brunette huffed, but didn’t pull away, instead he stepped closer.

“Go on.” The alpha’s scent spiked, heavy bourbon whipped with amber, and that strange undertone of smoke. “If you don’t tell me, I can’t give you anything.”

After a grumble of defiance, the teen relented, standing on his toes to whisper in the man’s ear. They were alone, mostly, there was still a servant or two in the penthouse that he knew of, and though they didn’t know him from Adam, it still bothered Daniel.

“I want you.” Daniel flinched when his host laughed, loud and deep. “What…What’s funny, huh!? All you had to say was no!” There it was. That fierceness that Terry had been waiting to see, and there was plenty of it. So much so that he even got a nice shove from the exchange, staggering back a little.

“Alright, alright!” As adorable as Daniel’s anger was, Terry wasn’t a punching bag, and one shove too many was all it took to send him snarling at the teen.

Shrinking into himself, Daniel cast his eyes to the floor, like a puppy who had wet the floor. Shit, he was dead. Not only had he come onto his boss, but he had hit him, what the hell was he thinking? Easy, he wasn’t. He’d never slept with a woman let alone a man, so to say he wanted Terry was about as wild as the man agreeing to it.

“There’s a few things we can do.” Daniel thought he misheard the other for a moment, before a hand ghosted across his cheek, some hair being tucked behind his ear. “You can’t have me. Just like I can’t have you. But we can play a little.”

The teen blinked, mouth open though he couldn’t summon the nerve to speak. He could only stare as the hand from his cheek slid down and off his shoulder, tangling with the beta’s fingers. A breath caught in his throat when he was pulled away from the cabinet and towards the hallway, curious as to what his host meant. Another curiosity, was that Terry made it a point to pause and turn the music up as they passed the record player, then continued on to the hall. A few thoughts as to why crossed Daniel’s mind, all arousing him, and he wondered if Terry was catching on. That same thick scent of amber rolled off the alpha as they approached the bedroom door, promising nothing short of a good time.

#ao3 #terry silver #archive of our own #daniel larusso #fanfic #karate kid #silverusso #smut #vampire au #kk3 #vampires #omegaverse #slow burn #abo

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thetriggeredhappy · 3 years

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in the dadspy au, what if jeremy was just going to be an assistant/cook/janitor at the base while his dad was being the mercenary (since spy didnt want him to follow the "career" but didnt want to be separated from him), but then jeremy turned out to be even better than the hired scout so they promote him to that position and spy is not happy with this at all

ok i was gonna put this in the queue to post but im impatient because im happy with this one. only thing i didnt have was spy being upset by this development

(warnings for canon-typical violence, discussion of mercenary-type things, paranoia, alcohol, and exactly one proper fight scene. consider this pg-13)

“Would you prefer the good news first, or the bad news?” Dad asked.

Jeremy looked up at him from where he’d snatched up the sunday comics from his dad’s newspaper and was doodling little hats on the characters while they waited for their food to arrive. “Uh,” he said, “good news first.”

“Alright. The good news is, do you remember that line I’ve been tailing? The one in New Mexico?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy said, then nodded a little more confidently. “Immunity, safehouse, somethin’ like that, right?”

“...Something like that,” Dad agreed carefully, and that made him raise an eyebrow. “It went well, and I think there’s the very real possibility that I’ve all but closed the deal, all they want now is an interview.”

“...Interview, singular,” Jeremy said slowly.

“That’s where the bad news begins. Unfortunately... merde, how to phrase this?” He drew a hand down his face. “They’re fully willing to hire me on, but this is a more... corporate affair than I’m used to. They have rules, stipulations. Long story short, they will not hire you as a mercenary on the basis of your age.”

Jeremy tensed. “What?” he demanded. “That’s stupid, I’m old enough to drive and buy guns and whatever the hell else.”

“But not rent a car, at least in many places in the United States.”

“But—“ he started, and remembered they were in public, and lowered his voice to a hiss, leaning in. “We’re hired killers, thieves, criminals. Do they really think we’re above having fakes? False documentation?”

“Actually, that is one of their requirements,” Dad said dryly, taking a paper from his jacket and consulting it. “I’m not happy about it either, mon lapin, but those are their rules. Already they have slightly bent them for one individual, and already I am on thin ice. But I may have a way to manage this.”

“Yeah?” Jeremy asked, nervous now.

“I know the woman responsible for new hires and managing the team I’ve applied for. She owes me a favor—a fairly hefty one. When I go in for the interview, one of my demands will include you being hired on, not as a mercenary, but for... for custodial purposes, something like that. Cook, janitor, security guard, secretary—whatever job there is that needs doing there, and I am sure that there will be one. Something to allow you to live there. Pay will likely be her stipulation, and the play I hope to make is that really, you’re overqualified for the position and she’s lucky to have someone so competent available, and in the worst case scenario, the pay is still good enough even for just one of us that we will not cut too deeply into the savings.”

The savings. That made Scout blink, because they only ever brought up the savings when—

“You think this could be it?” he asked quietly. “Like, it it?”

A hard exhale, and he leaned his cheek on his hand. “Potentially,” he finally said. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but the job promises a variety of things. Medical attention available, extremely low levels of danger, and most of all, confidentiality. The only people who will know any name we give them would be the woman in charge of hiring us and their singular medical professional. There is no mode of communication to or from the compound outside of emergency lines to the organization and a single secure payphone located two miles away, there is no civilization within a twenty-five minute drive minimum, and this operation has been going long enough that the local authorities have long since grown used to being paid off, and likely don’t even remember what for anymore. I cash in a few valuable favors and ask this employer to turn a blind eye, we’d have somewhere remote and secure to spend our time after our deaths are faked and once the contract is over, we can start over. No ties to the past.”

“Freedom,” Jeremy marveled.

Silence for a few seconds, broken only by the quiet chatter of the rest of the diner. “I want to warn you, this work may not be glamorous. It may not even be particularly easy. I’m giving you the option of saying no,” Dad said.

“What?! Yes, hell yes, are you joking? To get us to living like normal people? Steady work? Livin’ in one place? Count me in!” he laughed.

“What if the job is something you won’t enjoy? Long hours, boring work?” Dad asked, entirely serious.

“I’m still on board.”

“What if the other people working there are rude to you? Disrespectful?”

“Well most of the people I meet through our job now try to kill us, so really it’s an upgrade.”

“What if there’s no diner nearby?” he asked, and there was a glint of humor in his eye.

“Damn, sorry, that’s the dealbreaker,” he joked right back, and that made him snort, shake his head, greet the waitress as she came back with their coffee and soda and then informed them that their food would be out shortly.

“I’ll ask,” was what Dad said once she was gone again, and that was that, and they started driving to New Mexico two nights later.

“—A warm welcome to our two newest recruits. This is the Spy, and this is the Guard.”

“Guard?” asked one of the men at the table, his accent thick and distinctly Russian. It made Jeremy tense slightly, but he didn’t let it show.

“Night Guard,” Jeremy answered, voice clipped.

“He’s not technically hired on as a mercenary like you all, he won’t be joining you on missions,” the short woman apparently named Miss Pauling (Jeremy was fairly sure it was a fake name) said, hands folded in front of her neatly. “He’s here to work security. Keep an eye out during the night, filter through the camera footage, handle the archiving, things like that.”

“We’re hiring on a civvie now?” asked another man, thick Scottish accent a little harder to digest than the eyepatch and the grenade he was in the process of fiddling with the internal mechanisms of.

“He’s combat ready, and will still be armed. His job is to essentially make sure you’re all safe enough to sleep through the night,” Miss Pauling said.

“I’m not some chump,” Jeremy agreed. “I know my stuff.”

“How old is he?” another man asked, this one in a hardhat with a heavy drawl, looking concerned.

“Twenty, for your information,” Jeremy said, a little sharply, eyes narrowed.

“If you have any other questions, there’ll be time later on. For now, I do need to show our two newest recruits where they’ll be staying,” Miss Pauling cut in.

There was an audible scoff from one of the men at the table, a dramatic rolling of eyes. Jeremy glared at him. He unfolded and refolded his extremely tattoo’d tree-trunk-like arms, tugging the visor of his hat between. “Sorry,” he said, accent thick and distinctly Californian. “I just don’t have the most trust for some scrawny kid in slacks and creep in a ski mask.”

“Scout, don’t start,” Miss Pauling warned.

“Just saying,” this man, apparently called Scout, muttered under his breath regardless.

“Don’t,” she said again, more firmly, and ignored the second eye roll she got for the trouble. “If you two would follow me.”

And they were shown around the base, and Jeremy in particular was shown into a room stuck behind three locked doors, where he found camera feeds and recording equipment. She gave him a basic overview and a thick packet of instructions and policies labelled ‘highly classified’ and a phone number to call if he had any further questions, and a set of hours that were apparently meant to become the new standard for him (with the quiet addendum that if he finished early that was alright, and that technically he could turn in early if two or more members of the team were already awake for the day and he was caught up on the archiving of old tapes).

Then he was left to “get used to the equipment”, which he assumed meant his dad was getting a similar rundown of his job, and it took a pretty quick glance through the packet to understand that clearly this place ran on an extremely secretive and closely monitored series of systems. In the packet, between the sections on camera maintenance and operation hours, were a few sheets detailing what were apparently the movement patterns of the various members of the team, including frequented locations and previously recorded large-scale infractions (mostly on the part of the Soldier, the Medic, the Scout, and one from the Demoman).

He wasn’t the one with the title Spy, but fuck, it seemed like he might as well have it. His entire job wasn’t even necessarily to keep the team safe overnight—he was just meant to watch all of them to make sure nobody was anywhere or doing anything out of the ordinary.

The next time he saw his dad, waiting outside the infirmary to get some sort of physical evaluation, his face was arranged carefully enough that he could tell he’d figured out something was up, too.

“Got your job assignments?” he asked quietly in French, glancing towards the door into the infirmary.

A nod, a glance. “I’m intrigued by the methods used in employee evaluation,” he deadpanned. “Especially the fact that apparently, they’re willing to assign employees for the explicit task of doing them.”

“How often?”

“Weekly.”

“Thorough,” Jeremy deadpanned, and glanced towards the hall at the distant sound of laughter, echoing from somewhere else on the base. “That’s basically mine too.”

There was a long silence, and when Jeremy looked back over, his dad was giving him an almost expectant look, waiting. All he had to offer him was a shrug, which was returned after a moment with a vague shake of the head. “I don’t believe it will be a problem,” his dad said simply. “Not for us, at the very least.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Uh, anyways, good luck with the… physical, or whatever,” he said, and received a pat on the shoulder before he walked back off down the hall, hoping to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with an entire room all to himself. He’d almost never had one before.

He was used to time changes and jet lag, to needing to switch his sleep schedule on the regular, but the switch to a straight up night shift was a rough one.

His nine-to-five was actually a ten-to-six, as in 10 PM through 6 AM. This meant that, assuming he managed to get his schedule in order, he’d be able to join in on the team dinners if he woke up early and could eat breakfast with them before he went to bed.

Very quickly he realized that going to dinner and breakfast with the team was going to become a staple part of his routine, because it didn’t take long before he began to feel extremely lonely all of the time. In a dark little room, everyone else asleep, scrubbing through tapes from during the day while half keeping an eye on the live feed from around the base that never showed much of anything, it was brutal. It was suffocating.

It was easy, at least. It didn’t take long before he got efficient at it and could start zoning out, and it wasn’t like he was under much pressure. His was the only room without any cameras in it. Security risk, apparently.  And to be honest, what small amount he and Dad interacted with mercenaries and other criminal types, Jeremy didn’t really tend to like them much. A lot of them were loud and rude and had the potential to turn around and try and kill them whenever they felt like it. He didn’t expect that he’d like the team as much as he did. He especially didn’t expect to like them so much without ever really talking to them.

But watching the camera feeds from throughout the day, seeing what they were up to, they were just... nice people. Soldier out by the dumpsters practicing rocket jumps and wrangling raccoons and apparently trying to learn how to spin a rifle, Pyro’s regular minor explosions in the kitchen while cooking and the surprised and frantic way they cleaned it up every time, the Demoman’s tendency to whistle wherever he went, watching through the feed as they all played cards and argued and jostled each other. They all seemed really nice. Really cool. Really dorky, too, but mostly just really nice and really cool.

And there were a few of them he was less sure about—he couldn’t get eyes on the Medic most of the time, what with the one camera in the Medbay being tilted down at an angle that made it hard to see much of anything but the occasional bird (probably by those same birds). The Heavy tended to just sit and read, and was pretty much silent most of the time otherwise. The Scout tended to leave the base pretty often. And the Sniper didn’t even live on base, he had a van outside that he could only occasionally see movement in when he squinted at the far edge of the camera leading outside. But even then, Heavy and Sniper mostly just seemed quiet, and Medic just seemed busy, and the Scout just seemed like a little bit of a dickhead.

But then one day when Jeremy was at breakfast the Heavy caught him leaning to try to get a look at the cover of the book he was reading, and he blurted that he was just wondering what book was so great that he’d stay up until like four in the morning reading, and then the entire team was gawking at him and asking questions and insisting that it was insane that there was someone actually watching all those cameras, and he shrugged and said there was always supposed to be someone watching the tapes back it was just usually some office worker type a hundred miles away. And they seemed almost... upset with him. And maybe that was fair, it wasn’t like he ever talked to any of them much, mostly he just spent breakfast and dinner half-asleep and listening to their chatter. And Demoman admitted that he’d honestly assumed that Jeremy slept his entire shift, he just always looked so tired at breakfast. There was almost this discomfort. This distrust.

And so, now that the jig was up, he made it a point to say some things to certain members of the team. To tell the Medic that his camera was tilted down so that he couldn’t see most of the room, and to very pointedly say that it was weird how that happened and that he didn’t know why they set it up like that in the first place, but it was really none of his business. Made it a point to warn the Engineer in the morning that the previous night, Soldier had been doing something in the fridge for a while, and to maybe check the labels before he made breakfast. Made it a point to tell the Demoman that the camera in his workshop was right in plain sight, and that if he moved one of his blackboards an inch or two to the left, it would obscure the room a pretty hefty amount. Made it a point to tell the Sniper that the camera on the rooftop seemed to be glitching out, and it’d just sort of lost the tapes of the previous two nights, and that it was really unfortunate since for all he knew there might have been someone ignoring the signs about there being no personnel allowed up there.

In return, he found that Pyro would sometimes make little sparkly notes with smiley faces on them and stick them to the door to the security room. That Sniper started tipping his hat at the camera above the door into the base from the garage. That on occasional drinking nights, the team would suddenly turn and start waving at the camera, laughing the whole way. On one night in particular he could hear through the low-quality and tinny speakers that they were trying to cajole him into leaving the security room for a while to join them for cards, and god, but he wanted to.

And he noticed more things. Soldier walking with a slight limp some days when rocket jumps had rough landings. Being able to count the doves in the infirmary and even tell them apart to some extent through blurry close-ups. The Engineer making it a point to sweep really regularly regardless of what project he was working on.

And then he noticed a weird thing.

It took him a long time to get used to the patterns of hallways, the cameras not really lined up linearly after a while, too many branching paths. He learned to follow progress, to flick from one camera to the next as someone walked around corners. And for a while he thought maybe he wasn’t very good at it.

Until he realized two things. First of all, that in a hallway where he knew there were five doors, he could only see four—apparently the door to Pyro’s room was just barely out of sight of the camera. He only figured it out because one day it swung open wide enough to almost bang against the wall.

And then, when he realized there was somehow that massive blindspot, that there was a corner with a blindspot too. One where that Scout kept disappearing.

He watched a few more times to make sure, and yep. He’d see the Engineer walking around the corner, flick to the next screen, and there he was, continuing down the hallway. And then later that same day, the Scout, walking, and flick to the next camera, and he wasn’t there.

One of the worse parts of the job was that he never got to see Dad anymore, never got to just sort of hang out the way they did all the time when he was growing up, and he knew he would miss it but he didn’t know how much. And he found it was even worse when he had something important to say, doubly so when he had something important to say but no idea if it was actually important.

He tried to bring it up casually, in the like ten minutes of time he ever got alone to talk to Dad. Dad was fighting the kettle trying to make some tea and he was trying to stay awake long enough to figure out how he was going to say this.

“Uh,” he said, and Dad looked at him. “So, uh, what’s the read you’re getting on that Scout guy?”

“Lazy,” Dad shrugged, looked back at the kettle. “Arrogant. He seems to care very little about doing his job correctly and has horrible communication on the field.”

“Right, right,” he nodded, fought a yawn down. “Uh. So like, kind of a dickhead.”

“Indeed,” Dad said, nodding vaguely.

“So uhhh... not the best.”

“Where are you going with this?” Dad asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I, I dunno, the guy just likes hanging out in this one blindspot in the cameras, and it’s kinda freaking me out,” Jeremy said, scratching at the back of his neck.

Dad frowned. “Strange. I wasn’t aware that there were any blindspots in the cameras.”

“There’s only a few, and only for pretty small spaces I think? But apparently he just likes hanging out in one of them.” Jeremy scuffed his shoe on the ground, glancing over as voices started echoing down the hall towards them. “Just thought it was weird.”

“I’ll look into it,” Dad muttered, voice quiet, and then raised it again slightly. “I refuse to keep up with sports.”

“C’mon,” Jeremy said, knowing this game well, changing subjects into something more normal as people entered earshot. “I’m not even asking you to keep up with sports, I’m just saying, I’d kill to go to a baseball game right about now.”

“The American Pasttime!” Soldier called from the room over.

“Exactly,” Jeremy agreed, nodding at Soldier as he also entered the kitchen, a half-asleep Demoman in tow.

“Any ghosties or ghoulies on the cameras last night, lad?” Demo had enough energy to ask, blinking blearily at the contents of the fridge.

“Oh, a billion,” Jeremy said.

“Guard!” Soldier barked, the most awake person in the room. “Should these ghost-ghouls appear again, don’t be afraid to point me in their direction! I have significant experience with them already and do not fear the likes of them!”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shrugged.

“You’re a champion, Guard,” Demo said with what was either a really disoriented blink or a wink, slugging him on the shoulder and wandering back out into the common room with the entire carton of milk in his other hand. Jeremy gave him a mock-salute that Soldier copied with absolute conviction. He and Dad shared a glance after the two of them left, and Jeremy was the first one to break, snickering under his breath.

“I’ll look into it,” Dad said, and also left the kitchen, and Jeremy nodded and started trying to remember what else he’d been planning on doing before bed.

“So,” Dad said a few days later, materializing next to Jeremy when he was in the middle of his jog and making him almost jump out of his skin, skidding to a stop.

“You’re enjoying that new watch way too much,” Jeremy panted, out of breath and still very much startled.

“Maybe,” Dad said, and he was smiling. “But as I was saying.”

“All you said was ‘so’,” Jeremy pointed out, giving him a look.

“There’s a juvenile joke here about how I’m your father and so of course I say ‘so’, but if you wouldn’t mind it, I did have something important to say, mon lapin,” Dad replied, and Jeremy rolled his eyes hard at the horrible joke and cheesy name, fighting back a smile of his own.

“Go for it,” he said, and took the opportunity to bend and tighten his shoelaces.

“So. Regarding that Scout and his habits. You mentioned he spends time in blind spots of the cameras, oui?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. Keeps, uh, I guess he keeps getting infractions for going off base too much, too. I’ve logged him leaving like three times this week already,” Jeremy nodded.

“Indeed. Well, considering how new we are to the team, I did not want to jump to conclusions, and so contacted Miss Pauling and asked on your behalf for any older records, and I found out something very... intriguing.”

Jeremy looked up at him, blinking. ‘Intriguing’, historically, had always been a very, very bad thing.

“Apparently, it has been two years since they last had a Guard situated on base. The previous one was a much older gentleman, retired from being a full member of the team due to health complications but not entirely ready to part with the company. The previous guard was somewhat strict, and the Scout—the same as we have now—very much disliked the man. He continued acquiring near-constant infractions under the man’s watch for leaving when he was not meant to, so much so that the previous Guard proposed enstating trackers on the team when they went off-base. And before this policy could take hold, the previous Guard left the base one day and did not return, and finally was found dead a state over, one month later.”

Jeremy blinked once, twice. “Holy shit,” he said, and took note of the wary look on his face. “Okay. So we’re thinkin’ the same thing, right?”

“I would assume so. And…” Dad hesitated, moved to fidget with his cufflinks. “And I would not be particularly concerned about this, as I’m confident that you wouldn’t have gotten his attention from what you’ve been up to lately, and therefore wouldn’t be in danger yet should history attempt to repeat itself, but… he’s already taken a disliking to you.”

“What?” he asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“I believe it’s something as simple as some sort of shallow jealousy. Another American on the team, also relatively young, filling the position of someone he disliked previously. He regularly complains about the fact that you don’t need to go do the same job as the rest of us.” Dad shrugged, glanced over at him. “That, combined with the fact that you have somewhat conflicting duties, well, he tends to rather tetchy. He claims that considering he’s meant to be the first line of defense, they shouldn’t also need a guard at night.”

Jeremy had a number of opinions about that, but he stuck to the most relevant ones. “I really don’t like this guy,” he said. “Might be, uh. Worth keeping an eye on.”

“Agreed.” Dad glanced back over his shoulder towards the base, then at his watch. “Enjoy the rest of your run. Don’t forget to eat.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, hit the bricks already, old man,” Jeremy scoffed, waving him off, and Dad rolled his eyes, disappearing again in a cloud of smoke. “You’re gonna be using that thing all the damn time now, aren’t you?”

“Oui,” came a voice from nowhere, and Jeremy huffed a laugh, meandering his way back into the rest of his jog.

Jeremy hummed along to the radio, flicking between cameras on autopilot and wondering when exactly to take his lunch break.

He didn’t face the clock or anything, so he wasn’t sure, but he thought he had a pretty solid rhythm at that point. Click, click, click, between the camera to the road, the camera to the main entrance, and the camera in the hall towards the middle of the building, for about one second each. At just about any time after 11 or 11:30, those were the only three in real time that he needed to keep an eye on, mostly for people coming back late from bar hopping or if Miss Pauling was rolling in on a delivery. All the other cameras he could see out of the corner of his eye, and any movement he’d pick up on pretty quick, even if it was usually just the doves fluttering on the camera to the Medbay. After he cycled through those (and there was almost never anything there) he’d cycle back through to the tape he had in, put it on high speed, and watch it for about two or three minutes, get through a chunk of that time. Mostly he’d just be making sure nobody had been in the base while the team was away ni o(which indeed there never was), so there wasn’t much of a reason to take it off high speed, and the second part of the night would be watching the tapes for the time the team was back on base.

Movement on a camera made him click the pause, and he glanced off to the side. One of the doves had shuffled to face the other direction. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the bigger monitor again and pressing play.

The second half of the night was a little more interesting. He just had to look at the tapes for the time the team was there, check for discrepancies that might point to Dad messing with the disguise technology off-the-clock or the enemy Spy having infiltrated. For the most part things were straightforward, but he at least got to see his teammates up to funny things sometimes. Pyro’s antics were usually entertaining. Soldier he only caught some of, on the basis of him often walking off out of range of the cameras when he went on his excursions. Demo was funny sometimes. Honestly, just seeing the Sniper anywhere but as a fuzzy distant shape was interesting.

Movement on a camera. Same dove. He ignored it. Click, click, click, all three cameras clear, back to the fast-forward of the same empty hallway as before.

He really needed to figure something out, for the Scout. Maybe he and Dad were just being paranoid. It would be insane for him to try to outright kill anyone who inconvenienced him, not to mention reckless, and stupid to boot. Acting like that in their line of work would make him a lot of enemies extremely quickly. It would make more sense for the old Guard disappearing to be unrelated, to be honest.

Yeah. Hell, he barely knew the guy, and here he was assuming he’d straight up whacked a guy for getting a little too on his case about something. Maybe they were wrong.

Movement on a camera. He glanced over and froze outright.

It took him five seconds to come to his senses enough to pause the playback on his screen.

Figures. Shapes. Not at the front entrance, in the hallway, there next to the back way, by the garage. At least three, moving carefully, hard to make out in the darkness.

Okay. Okay, don’t panic, focus.

Jeremy ran through a few things in his head. He’d already done a headcount, the only people he wasn’t sure about were the Sniper and the Medic, but he hadn’t seen the Medic in any of the hallways out of the infirmary. Three figures were two too many to be any of the team, and besides that, they didn’t look like the Medic. Too short to be the Sniper, moving differently. Different clothes.

Three people. He hopped up, rushed over to the wall, yanked open the panel he had there. Three buttons, which he needed to hit in order. The first would send an alert to Miss Pauling, the second to whoever was assigned to be on alert that night, the third would set off the alarm.

He hit the first, hit the second, and hesitated on the third.

Okay. Technically if he didn’t hit that third button, he’d be breaking protocol, which was, according to the manual, ‘grounds for termination’. He was pretty sure that meant a long swim with some concrete shoes. And it was apparently recorded every time he hit these buttons, so they could deduct from his pay on false alerts. So they’d know if he didn’t hit this third button. He needed to think fast.

This was a different button than the alert button. The alert was more subtle, set for just one person. The alarm was throughout the entire base, over every loudspeaker. Louder than a fire alarm. If he hit this one, these intruders would hear that there was an alarm going off. Anyone smart would book it, high tail it the hell out of there. But he still didn’t know where they came from.

There hadn’t been movement on any of the screens, and he looked at the camera feed facing the road already, a few times even. He should’ve seen them. And if they found their way in once, they could do it again.

If he didn’t hit the button, on the other hand, whoever was on alert would wake up and wonder why they’d gotten an alert but the alarm wasn’t going off. If they were clever, which they probably were if they’d lasted this long, they’d come to the security room to see what was up and they could work from there.

He closed the panel again and moved to wait.

A minute later, still no movement from the hallway where most of the rooms were. That was fine, they’d just woken up, and probably needed to get dressed and grab their guns.

Another minute later, no movement, which was fair, they just needed a second to get their bearings. The intruders, meanwhile, were just lurking, slowly making their way down the hall.

Another minute later, no movement, and he opened the panel to press the button again before he continued waiting. Maybe they didn’t hear him the first time.

Another minute later and he took to standing next to the panel, mashing the button rapidly, eyes on the screen where the intruders were passing the kitchen, starting to get pretty far into the building.

Another minute later and he stomped his way into his sneakers, grabbing his flashlight and gun and guard cap from where they were hung on the wall. “Fine, I’ll fucking do it myself,” he grumbled, and carefully shouldered open the door, taking one last glance at the camera before he shut the door behind himself.

He kept his footsteps quiet, squinting into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to finish adjusting as he crept towards where he’d last seen the figures. It was near-silent in the base at night except for the distant, quiet hum of generators and occasional shift of plumbing. It was getting more and more familiar, and he found himself able to tune it out somewhat, instead listening intently for footsteps besides his own, making sure to click the safety off his gun while he was still alone and not when he was close to whoever had decided to break in.

Okay. Dad did this all the time. He could handle this.

He slowed as he approached the corner near the kitchen, peering around as carefully as he could, tugging down the brim of his cap to try and hide any potential shine from his eyes. He caught sight of a vague shape standing near the doorway, hesitating before it crept inside, into the common area.

Not ideal, on the basis of that being their goddamn kitchen, but at least there would be cover.

By the time he managed to sneak up to the doorway, he could make out the sound of vague whispering. It was far enough that it gave him the boldness to peer into the room, and just slightly lit by the glow of the clock on the oven he could see two shapes there in the kitchen, the third lingering nearer to him, there by the table.

Jeremy was only just starting to make a plan, relieved to have the jump on them, when there was the distant sound of a generator humming to life, and all the figures stopped, paused for a moment.

“Fucking spooky here,” one whispered, barely audible.

“Calm down,” another whispered. “What, scared of ghosts?”

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, shifted onto the balls of his feet and started creeping a little further into the room. If he could just get all three of them to one side, so he wouldn’t need to pivot so much…

“You don’t know, maybe there’s ghosts here,” the first protested, and swore quietly at what sounded like their winging their elbow against the corner of the tale, and Jeremy tried to stick near the wall, managed to creep half-behind one of the chairs, trying to keep his silhouette indistinct. “These guys kill people.”

“So do we,” the third mumbled, moving out of sight in the kitchen, and Jeremy bit down on a swear, starting to inch behind the couch. “Don’t be a coward. And stop making so much noise.”

“You can’t shoot a ghost,” the first pointed out, moving a bit closer to the kitchen, giving the table a wide berth now. “Or punch it.”

“I can try,” the second said, and stopped at the sound of a rustle.

Jeremy held his breath, weight half-balanced against where he’d tried to step, newspaper trapped beneath his foot.

“That one wasn’t me,” the first whispered. There was another, more significant rustle throughout the room, and Jeremy could see a glint as the intruders drew their weapons.

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, and just barely managed not to swear out loud.

The first one was the closest by, lingering beside the arm of the couch Jeremy was crouched in the shadow of. “Do they have a cat here?” they asked, voice quiet.

The second was approaching into the main room more carefully. From the sound of the footsteps, trying to keep a shoulder closer to the wall, clearly paying more attention to the door. “Are you stupid or something?” was the reply, voice also quiet.

The third didn’t speak, but huffed out a laugh, which was enough to tell Jeremy that he was out of the kitchen.

Jeremy inhaled shakily, exhaled shakily, shifted his grip on his handgun and flashlight, and took a split second to think. Inhaled one more time.

He leapt to his feet, swinging his flashlight like a billy club and clobbering the first figure across the side of the head, sending them tumbling to the ground. From the sound of the impact, a dislocated jaw at the very least. One down.

A shout from the other side of the room, arms moving to try to aim, clearly struggling to see him, but that third figure was in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from the oven’s clock, and that was enough to figure out where the head and chest were. He aimed, fired, got what he was pretty sure was the neck considering the brief spray of blood that splattered against the oven, darkening the room completely.

A swear from the second figure, and Jeremy wanted to swear too, because he’d hoped that second figure would be stupid and try and charge him, but now he was ten steps away and didn’t have time to fiddle with and cock the gun again, other hand full with a flashlight and no way to—

Oh, duh.

“Stay where you are,” the second figure ordered, but Jeremy’s eyes were a little better adjusted and besides that, he wasn’t the one talking. He lifted his flashlight and clicked it on.

The second figure cried out, recoiling at the sudden blindingly bright light in what had been near-darkness, and Jeremy had time to finagle his thumb up to cock his gun again, now able to aim with absolute accuracy, this shot connecting with the figure’s head.

He exhaled.

It took Jeremy two minutes to remember to fire a bullet into the chest of the unconscious guy, and another minute for the other mercenaries to start showing up, half-dressed and armed. Dad, presumably to prove a point, showed up pretty close to the middle of the pack almost fully dressed. Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure how long it took before Miss Pauling showed up, but he wasn’t even halfway through their questions by that time.

“Guard, headcount?” she asked before she even bothered saying hello, still wearing her motorcycle helmet and looking more than a little bit miffed.

“Uh,” he said, eyes drawn away from where Medic was assessing the bodies on the kitchen table, “seven present and accounted for. Sniper’s probably out at his van, don’t know about the Scout.”

“Alright. Pyro,” she said, and Pyro stood at attention, bunny slippers squeaking at the movement. “go wake up Sniper and get him in here.”

Pyro nodded, handing their weird unicorn plushie thing to Jeremy as they passed by, giving him a solemn nod before hurrying away.

“Okay. Guard, hit me with a rundown, then,” she said, and shot a glance around the room. “No peanut gallery needed. And Medic, please don’t take them apart too much. I gotta get rid of those later.”

“Uh. Spotted these guys on the cameras, hit the first and second alerts,” Jeremy said.

“And not the third?” she asked pointedly.

“They were, like, right next to the door, and—here’s the thing, Miss P, is I dunno how the hell they got in here,” he said, and there was a general balk from the room. “No, seriously. They didn’t come in on the main road, they were in one of the back hallways by the garage. There’s gotta be a hole in the cameras or something, because I seriously don’t know where they came from. And if they booked it, they’d take whatever vehicle they used to get here, too, and we might not figure it out. Thought I’d just wait for whoever the hell was supposed to be on alert so we could… I dunno, at least see which way they went.”

“Guard,” she admonished, and he shrank a little bit. “That was incredibly reckless. What if nobody had shown up to help you?”

“Uh,” he said, blinked, “but… nobody did show up.”

A pause. She blinked. “What? You’re the one who did that?” she asked, entirely shocked, pointing towards the three bodies on the table.

“Uh, yeah? Isn’t that my job?” he asked carefully, shifting the stuffed animal under his arm.

“No, you’re—you’re just supposed to be the Guard, you’re supposed to watch cameras, not—“ She paused, taking a second to push up her glasses and rub at the bridge of her nose, inhaling, exhaling. “Okay. Points for… going above and beyond, here, but Guard, don’t do that again.”

“Sure thing, Miss P,” he mumbled, tugging on the brim of his guard cap, and sighed to himself as Miss Pauling moved away to try and stop Medic from attempting to covertly steal a few organs from the corpses. Dad clapped him on the shoulder supportively, and that did make him feel a little better. He wasn’t expecting a clap to the other shoulder, and looked up, surprised to see Heavy there, looking just slightly less grim than usual.

“Little Guard man is credit to team,” he said simply, solemnly.

Jeremy straightened up slightly. “Oh. Hey, thanks,” he said. Heavy nodded at him.

“It’s true,” Demo called, and he looked over, got another approving nod. “Really saved the lot of us, lad.”

“I, I mean, hey, it’s… what I’m here for. Or, uh. I thought that was it, anyways,” he shrugged, glancing away. “I mean, yeah, I’m pretty cool, though.”

Dad bumped his arm for the last part, and he snickered. “My question,” Dad continued, doing his best to ignore him, “is primarily regarding who, precisely, was supposed to be present to help Guard with this. Who is meant to be on alert?”

“It’s meant to be Scout, ain’t it?” the Engineer asked from nearby, frowning. A general murmur of agreement. “Could he have slept through it?”

“Heavy doubts this,” Heavy grumbled, looking troubled.

“Why’re we awake?” asked Sniper from the doorway, and various teammates called out a greeting. Sniper seemed half-gone, and completely grumpy, but not as grumpy as Pyro, and not nearly as gone as the man leaning heavily against Pyro’s shoulder.

“Hey,” the Scout managed, grinning, speech garbled, visibly sloppy and unbalanced. “What’s up, guys?”

Groans from parts of the room. “Drinkin’ again, Scout?” the Engineer drawled, visibly irritated.

“That’s my trademark, lad, go on,” Demo laughed, but the enthusiasm wasn’t entirely there.

“Scout,” Miss Pauling said, voice firm in a way that made Jeremy almost flinch in sympathy. “Are you aware that we’ve had a situation here while you’ve been sleeping?”

“Weren’t sleeping,” Sniper murmured, and eyes turned to him. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Came stumbling in ‘round when I was heading in. He was out for the night. Bar, looks like.”  “What?” Jeremy demanded. “Why the fuck didn’t I see him leave on the cameras?”

“Alright,” Miss Pauling said, and Jeremy looked at her. Her expression was hard to read. “It’s possible he went through the back tunnel.”

“Back tunnel?” Jeremy asked, and glanced around. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard of it.

“For emergencies only. Scout’s the only one who I’ve given a key card to. I have one too. It’s supposed to be used for transporting especially sensitive information, most of the team isn’t supposed to even know it exists. If there’s a gap in the cameras around the back of the building, he might have been using it to… sneak out to go to town, even though he knows he’s already in hot water for leaving the base so much,” Miss Pauling said, glaring at Scout, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

“Whatever, it’s not a big deal,” he protested, scoffing.

“That tunnel is for emergencies only,” Miss Pauling stressed. “I trusted you with the privilege of knowing about it account of having worked here for so long, and you’re using that privilege and key card to mess around?”

“He was coming back from around the front of the building, at least,” Sniper chimed in, and Pyro nodded. “Not that I’d understand the point of sneaking out if he’s going to just walk back in the front door.”

“Key card?” Medic repeated from near the table, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, it’s, it’s a magnetized card, that can be read by a card reader, used like a key,” Miss Pauling explained, deflating a little bit.

His eyebrows furrowed further. “Would it happen to look anything like this?” he asked, picking up a lanyard from the table and holding it up, showing the room the card clipped onto the end of it.

Two beats of silence. “Spy, would you mind?” Miss Pauling asked politely, nodding towards the Scout, who had gone pale.

“Not at all,” Dad said just as politely, and walked over towards the Scout and Pyro, then circled around behind them, and sank a blade into the Scout’s spine. He promptly crumbled to the floor, dead.

“Well. At least that’s that mystery solved,” Miss Pauling sighed, and rubbed at the bridge of her nose again. “Now I’ve gotta block off time tomorrow to get rid of three bodies, and then hopefully that’s the last we’re gonna hear of this or else the Administrator is gonna kill me.”

“What about the Scout?” Heavy rumbled.

“…Scratch that. Four bodies,” she mumbled, face dropping into her hands. “And then I need to find his replacement. Ugh.”

“Can’t imagine you’d need to go far,” Demo said, and Jeremy looked up, and Demo was very obviously tilting a thumb in his direction.

“He’s proven himself to be better at this job,” Dad agreed, shrugging. “And I would say on a bad day he’s still a better runner than the previous Scout on a good one.”

“He can clearly handle a firearm well,” the Engineer noted, looking over one of the bodies.

“And a blunt object,” Medic chimed, just a bit too pleased. “This jaw is almost completely shattered!”

“Okay, okay, fine, sure,” Miss Pauling waved off, one hand still pressed to her face, clearly overwhelmed and tired. “We’ll get his paperwork in tomorrow. Congratulations, you’re the new Scout, any questions? Can the questions wait until morning? Great, thank you. Good night, everyone. Medic, have the bodies in bags for me at least, okay?”

A distracted thumbs up from Medic, and Miss Pauling was groaning, wandering back out of the room, and most of the team followed, yawning amongst themselves. Sniper half-attempted to ask again why the hell any of them were awake, but gave up halfway through. Pyro, for one, made sure to at least retrieve the plushie from Scout’s arms before wandering off, giving him an appreciative pat on the shoulder.

“So,” Dad said, and when he looked over, he was smiling. “A promotion, mon lapin. Congratulations, new Scout.”

“Do I gotta wear that stupid outfit he always wears?” Jeremy asked, entirely serious. His reply was a laugh and a pat on the shoulder before he disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Pops, I’m serious. Do I? Dad!?”

“—So that’s why I figured, y’know, might as well tell you guys,” Jeremy finished rambling, hands in his pockets, continuing down the hallway. “Because… I dunno. I could tell Miss P, but it’s nice having secret stuff, y’know?”

“You think this is how they actually got in?” Demo asked, looking dubious. “Little blind spot in the cameras?”

“Only a couple feet wide, you said?” Sniper grumbled.

“Sounds possible,” Heavy said hesitantly.

“I dunno. Maybe. But if I tell Miss P about it, they’re gonna fix it,” Jeremy shrugged, turning the corner and stopping. “There. I knew it.”

They stopped with him, following his line of sight. “You’re takin’ the piss, mate,” Sniper deadpanned. “You want to tell me he’d been climbing out a window like a teenager?”

Jeremy shrugged, moving to open the window in question. It swung open easily, just large enough to push through with only a little bit of a problem, barely needing to turn his shoulders. “He’s not much bigger than me, and what the hell else would he be doing here?” he pointed out.

“Heavy cannot fit through that window,” Heavy deadpanned.

“Yeah. Sorry, big guy,” Jeremy apologized, leaning back inside and closing it again. “But hey, mystery solved, right?”

“Well, if I ever need windows to climb out of, now I know just the lad for the job,” Demo said, nudging him. “Thanks, Guard. Or, er, Scout. Och, now that’s going to take getting used to, aye? Might just stick to calling you ‘laddie’, laddie.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he laughed, nudging him right back. And as much as they ribbed him for it, he did see a kind of appreciation there. Just like he’d figured, they seemed to take note of him taking their side and not just Miss Pauling’s.

Now he just needed to switch back over to the day shift.

#father-son bonding au #dad!spy #tf2 #team fortress 2 #shut up me #my fanfiction #everybody talks #really happy with this one even if it took Way Too Fucking Long

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smallheathgangsters · 4 years

Text

Second Youngest | Part Two

Part One

A/N: This took way longer than it should have and I thoroughly apologise for that! There have been so many people asking for a part two and I hope you are happy with what I came up with :) Also, I switched from third person to second person, because I felt more comfortable while writing. Love you all, stay safe and healthy! 🧡

Tag List: @annabethgranger123 @marvelschriss @bloodorangemoonlight @chill-bee

Shelby!Sister Reader

Word Count: 1599

Type: angst, some fluff

---------------------------------------------

It was horrible, downright dreadful, hearing Finn argue with your family, while you were in the kitchen doing the dishes. The water in the sink was very hot, but the burning sensation was a distraction you welcomed. Still, it was impossible for you to ignore the conversation going on in the room next to you.

“She never once complained in all these years and now suddenly she’s upset about her situation?” you heard Polly scoff.

“The way you’re reacting to this is exactly the reason why she’d always been afraid to speak up about it!”

Finn’s voice sounded very frustrated and you felt bad for having him stand up for you. You hated yourself for not having the courage to hold the conversation yourself. To be your own fighter. You’d initially rejected Finn’s offer to talk to the family, but he’d insisted and there had been nothing you could’ve done to make him change his mind. He’d been very determined to start integrating you into the Shelby household in a way that was more respectful and loving.

But it seemed hopeless. The venom, the dripping poison in their words weren’t indicating any progress towards a compromise and all you wanted to do was get Finn out of the crossfire he was in. Tell him to leave it be, but that you were thankful for his dedication to make you part of the family.

“Pretty pathetic if you ask me,” Michael huffed, and Arthur agreed. “Sending her little brother? That’s exactly why she can’t be a part of our business.”

“Can’t you just give her a chance? She’s done nothing wrong!” Finn pleaded. You shuddered at Finn’s begging. There was no reason for him to put himself in a position like that. As the youngest of them all, he’d had it hard already, constantly having to prove himself to his brothers … he shouldn’t be risking the loss of respect he’d gained up until now because of you.

“Look Finn, if she’s not ready to speak up for herself, we’re not going to change anything to her satisfaction. Life isn’t easy and she apparently still needs to learn that.”

Tommy’s voice sounded calm, firm and bored. Bored of you. “Now please stop embarrassing yourself and get back to work.”

Immediately, there were chairs being pushed back and the footsteps of multiple people were audible. After only a few seconds, your brothers and Polly were out the door and peace returned. Finally. The house was quiet again and you let out the breath you were holding, freeing your lungs from the slight pain it had caused. Free of pain. The one thing you so desperately wished for.

You closed your eyes while your hands were holding a porcelain plate under water. When you heard a careful knock on the door, your eyelids sprung open and you started scrubbing the residue of food off the plate, almost a little forcefully.

You knew it was Finn, wanting to check up on you. He was aware that you’d been unintentionally eavesdropping from the kitchen and already knew what news he was bringing.

Finn pushed the kitchen door open and stepped inside, closing it quietly behind him. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I really tried–“

“I know, Finn,” you interrupted him, placing the last plate next to the sink and shaking the water off your hands. Then, you turned around to face him, your back leaning against the counter. “And it’s okay. You did more than I ever wanted you to do.”

Finn’s face turned into an angry frown. “But I don’t understand why they’re being so stubborn!”

“Finn!” you said a little louder. “I said it’s okay. I don’t want you to be upset. I really appreciate what you did.”

Finn let out a loud sigh. “It’s still not fair.”

“It’s what it is.”

A few seconds later the two of you ended up in a warm, comforting hug. One that reminded you that even though nothing was good at the moment, it’ll eventually be okay. That you’ll find happiness someday, somewhere. Just not here. A realisation you had needed for the longest time.

And that realisation lead to a decision. The decision to leave. For good.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Finn’s voice was shaky. You watched him nervously look around the train station. Nervous about being spotted with you. Well, not with you exactly. But being spotted at the train station with you.

“Yes, I’m more than sure,” you assured him, sending your brother a kind smile. “And to be honest, I’m actually really excited.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. And while the sun tickled Finn’s face, highlighting the countless, beautiful freckles, the train rolled in. Loudly, puffing angrily. Your eyes wandered over to the steel machine making its way closer and closer to you.

“You got the address?”

Another nod. “Thank you, Finn. For everything.”

“Please ring me as soon as possible.”

You promised and got on the train, although not before giving your sweet brother one last hug. One that was even warmer, more loving. More understanding. A friendly farewell.

London was busy. Just as Finn told you. Busy and noisy. But so pretty. And a lot less dirty than Birmingham. It smelled of luxury and wealth. Like the scent of an expensive perfume tingling in your sensitive nose. Tingling in a good way, one that gave you little butterflies in your stomach. Just like the kind you got when you passed a cute stranger on the streets.

You’d followed Finn’s instructions on the tiny paper note he’d given you the morning before you left for the new city. He had promised you that the man at the address had a job as a secretary for you. The initial feeling of doubt haunting you as you knocked on the door in one of the creepy back alleys of London had been unjustified. The man behind it was polite and very happy about getting a helping hand. The pay wasn’t huge, but enough for you. A small apartment and a place you felt home was all you needed. And that had been exactly what you’d received. Nothing more, nothing less.

And you were happy. Very happy. With every day the loneliness, the worthlessness, all the negativity Birmingham and your family had caused you, drifted further away. Up and away into the mostly cloudy, dark sky of the city. Your boss made you feel like you were relevant. Needed even. Some nights you laid awake, wondering how all of this had improved so quickly, swiftly. Huffing to yourself and shaking your head at how incapable and stubborn your family had been and how little it had taken to turn your whole world upside down. In a good way.

Unfortunately, only a few months in, on a rainy Tuesday morning, your boss was waiting for you with unlucky news.

“What does that mean?” you gasped.

“That means there’s no way for us to achieve the breakeven-point. Our incomes are too low,” he explained, the tone in his voice almost a little embarrassed.

You gulped audibly, playing with your fingers, unsure of what to do with yourself. “What now, Sir?”

“Don’t you worry, dear. I have a friend, a very talented businessman, who could use a motivated and diligent employee like you.”

“But what about you?” you asked him, genuinely worried about his future. “Do you have a plan for yourself?”

But just as he opened his mouth to respond, there was a knock on his office door, his gaze promptly leaving you. “Oh, that must be him already.”

“Him?”

“Your potential new employer.”

“Why–“

The loud exclamation leaving your boss’s mouth, inviting the stranger in, cut your sentence off. And with that, your conversation was finished already, leaving you with many open questions and a little overwhelmed.

Your eyes observed the door swinging open and a rather short man stepping into the room. Or maybe he wasn’t actually that short. Maybe his hunched posture made him seem smaller than he was. He was wearing a white shirt, one of his braces hanging loosely by his side, the other one over his shoulder, where it should be. He looked anything but a talented businessman.

“Brother! Glad you could make it!”

Had your boss’s voice just gotten slightly higher? Or was that your paranoia creeping up? The weird feeling tapping on your shoulder, reminding you of the fact that you frankly knew nothing about your boss and even less about the peculiar man standing in the doorframe.

“This the secretary you told me ‘bout?”

His steps were slow. Heavy. Dragging themselves over the floor.

You held your breath when he halted in front of you. A little too close. You were sure you were able to make out his eye colour from this distance. Blue? Greenish even?

Did he hear your heartbeat in your chest? Was he trying to make you uncomfortable? Nervous?

You gulped. But the lump in your throat was still there.

Then, you slowly held out a hand, hoping to stop him eyeing you up and down. He accepted your greeting, grabbing your hand firmly. His was rough and large.

“D’you have a name, lovely?”

You nodded, reminding yourself of Finn’s note. The last sentence on it. In bold letters. DO NOT USE YOUR REAL NAME, OR MY FAMILY WILL FIND YOU.

“Y/N … Smith.”

Smith. Your mother’s last name. One of the only things you knew about her.

The man kept shaking your hand, making you question if he’d ever let it go again.

“My pleasure. Call me Alfie. Solomons.”

#peaky blinders #second youngest #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders fanart #shelby!sister #shelby!sis #shelby reader #finn shelby

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css1992 · 5 years

Text

Such a softer sin

Summary: Tony is a self-made man. Peter is a sugar baby – someone else’s sugar baby.

When he turned to pull his chair out, the older man subtly checked out his ass and – of course, it was delicious, round and perky, two perfect handfuls. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the fact that he had a huge character flaw, a hamartia – he fucked people for money. He was basically a glorified whore, and if there was one thing Tony never had to do in his life was pay for sex, one way or another. So, really, he wouldn't start with – what was his name again?

Warnings: Explicit, 18+, mentions of non-con (not between main pairing, not explicit), age gap, power imbalance, employer/employee relationship, underage drinking. If you find anything triggering, please let me know!

Word count:18.4k

-x-

He was admittedly gorgeous, Tony could give him that. The honey brown eyes, the bouncy, fluffy curls and the clear, pale skin worked perfectly in his favor – he looked the part of the innocent, wholesome, young man ready to be swept off his feet and taken care of. Powerful men often liked that act, liked believing that they were deflowering innocence for the first time, liked believing they were wanted, needed. Tony knew better, though, he knew the type, he came across people like him all through his life.

When he was a broke, orphaned, half-starved college student, they wouldn’t give him the time of day. Snobby, pretty, little things like him only had eyes and time for those who had money, or something to offer – fame, influence, status. At the time, Tony had nothing, he could barely afford to eat everyday. After he graduated from MIT, he started working for Hammer Industries and as he started making more money, slowly, these people started taking notice of him, and he, too, started paying closer attention to them.

They weren’t difficult to spot either, they were usually young, attractive, with beautiful, fake smiles, weak personalities and a penchant for expensive gifts. It was easy to recognize them hanging off powerful men’s arms at functions, and dinners, and galas; bespoke suits or designer dresses covering their bodies, not a lot to add to the conversation. They were accessories, trophies. Pets.

Tony hated them. People who wanted to be at the very top, but couldn’t be bothered to take the stairs. They would use their pretty faces, feigned innocence, beautiful bodies and cute, fake laughs, to get farther faster. Not Tony. He did it the right way – the hard way –, worked day and night to get to his goal, got beat down so many times there were days he thought he wouldn’t be able to stand back up, but he did, every single time.

And time and experience made him wiser, smarter and bitter. At 40, he was finally able to start his own company, Stark Industries, it started small, but his genius inventions put his name on the map fairly quickly. That was how, five years later, he found himself having dinner with Norman Osborn, the most powerful man in New York, and his – boy toy? Sugar baby? Escort? Or something – discussing the possibility of a deal so big it could finally make Stark Industries live up to its full potential.

“So what I’m saying is that we can offer you the best and most advanced technology out there: my nanobots. I guarantee you it will make your job easier, faster and cheaper in the long run. I assure you, this a great deal and you should take it.” Tony was absolutely sure of what he was saying, he knew his product was good, his tech was flawless, he just needed to get it out there. He just needed a company like Oscorps to believe in him, then his work would speak for itself.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Stark, I think this whole nanotech thing is way too expensive and unnecessary, specially considering that I’m pretty sure Baintronics could do the same work for half the price, the old-fashioned way, which has been working just fine for the past decade.” Fuck, no, that old bat wasn’t looking at the big picture, he wasn’t thinking about the long run. Of course old tech would still get the job done, but Tony’s tech could do such a better job and so much more efficiently.

“No, but you see, that’s–”

“But –“ Norman raised a hand, successfully shutting Tony up and annoying the living hell out of him in the process. One day, he thought to himself, one day I’ll be able to say ‘fuck you’ to men like Norman Osborn. One day. “I’m willing to give it a try. Peter here says you’re the best at what you do, he’s the one who recommended that I agreed to meet with you, actually, when your PA called.”

Tony was taken aback by that information and eyed the young man carefully, causing him to blush a deep red and lower his gaze with a small, timid smile. Tony thought he was faking the whole thing, trying to be cute and sweet, but fuck – it worked for him. He seemed really young, maybe in his early twenties, and Tony had no idea how he could have heard of him, he wasn’t exactly famous, nor was S.I. His breakthroughs were only ever published in very specific scientific journals.

“I’m a huge fan of your work, Mr. Stark, I’ve always told Norman you two should work together, you’re both men ahead of your time.” He said quietly. He had a high-pitched, slightly feminine voice, which probably also worked in his favor with men like Osborn. It made him sound younger than he probably was, easier to manipulate and dominate.

Reluctantly, Tony accepted the compliment with a tight smile. He really needed that deal, he really needed for that to work, it would be the break SI needed, he could feel it, he could already taste the success.

“Very well, so here’s my offer. You will supply Oscorps with your nanotech for a year, then we can take it from there. This would be your cut for this first year.” Osborn wrote something down on a piece of paper and slid it towards Tony across the table. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the numbers – and the amount of zeros –, but he pretended to be cool about it, he even put on a show of looking slightly disappointed. “And there’s a lot more where this comes from, Stark. This could be the beginning of a beautiful, and mutually beneficial, friendship.”

“I do hope it is, Mr. Osborn. I look forward to working with your company. I’m sure we’re gonna be a great fit.” Tony tried to sound cool and professional, but he was having a little heart attack on the inside. He had been trying to schedule a meeting with Norman for months and the billionaire – or, most likely, his PA – kept making excuses. Now there he was, closing a huge deal with the promise of a mutually beneficial friendship in the future.

After that, he could breathe more easily during dinner. He couldn’t wait to tell Pepper, Bruce and Nat, though, they had to celebrate properly, maybe they could all go to his apartment and finally crack open that Macallan he bought when he made his first million. But meanwhile, he was stuck in the restaurant with Norman and his boy-toy, which he wouldn’t complain too much about, at least it was a nice view.

Again, there was no denial that the boy was beautiful. There was just something naturally sensual and charismatic about him, Tony couldn’t avoid looking his way, even when he wasn’t talking. And when he did talk, it was magnetic. He didn’t say much, as Tony expected, but what he didn’t expect was for him to be so smart. The few times he said anything was to ask questions about his tech, and those were surprisingly pertinent. Sometime along the night, Tony figured out that he was studying to become a mechanical engineer at Columbia and he wondered if Norman had anything to do with it – probably.

Tony was reminded of his own college years, of how he had to work his ass off to get a scholarship, and how many crazy hours he had to work to make ends meet, just to be able to build something for himself. He didn’t seek the help of men like Norman, although he could have. The name Stark meant something, once upon a time. His father was considered a gifted inventor, he was respected by huge companies, but he never built anything of his own.

When he died, Tony was only eleven. He still didn’t know exactly what happened, but soon after that, his mother lost everything he had left – which wasn’t much to begin with. She was never quite herself again, she was so depressed, she never even smiled anymore, she sometimes didn’t have the energy to get out of bed, Tony was the one doing the house chores, cooking for her, trying to make sure she was okay. She died eight years later from an aneurysm, Tony found her lying on the couch, looking peaceful for the first time in so many years.

In short, he never had it easy, and he never tried to make it easier for himself either – at least not in shady ways. He just wanted to do the right thing, even if it took longer – which it did. He was a forty-five year old man, but he made a name for himself, the name Stark held respect once again.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” The young man got up after a quick peck to Norman’s lips and headed to the bathroom. Tony made a huge effort and pointedly did not stare at his ass as he left. He was really proud of himself for that, maybe two years earlier he wouldn’t have been able to pull that off, he had no shame. At least now he had some. A little. Sort of.

“What do you think of him?” Norman had a neutral expression on, he gave nothing away, but it seemed like a test. What sort of question was that, why did it matter what Tony thought of his fuck toy?

“He seems really smart,” he answered with a small smile. It was a polite, diplomatic answer, and not untrue.

“What else?” Norman pushed, with a knowing smirk, and Tony almost cursed under his breath, thinking that maybe he’d been too obvious with his staring all through dinner, after all.

“He’s very pretty,” he admitted, although still with his cool, professional face on. Norman’s smirk grew wider.

“He sure is. Cute pet. Smart, polite, funny. You should get one for yourself, Stark. They’re kinda expensive, but worth every penny.” His shark-like smile took over his whole face and Tony had to fight back a grimace. He just smiled and shook his head no.

“Not really my style, sir.” Buying people, paying for sex, that sort of thing, he wanted to add.

“It’s not anyone’s style until it is.” He gave Tony a once over and smirked. “We’re not getting any younger.” The engineer was offended, he wanted to tell him he aged like good wine, unlike certain people, but refrained. He just gave him a strained smile and took a sip of his drink.

As if on cue, the pretty boy returned to the table and Tony took a couple of seconds to appreciate his outfit. He wore a dark blue suit, very elegant and very expensive looking, certainly a gift from Osborn, and it fit him like a glove. Tony supposed it was bespoke. It complimented his lithe, lean body beautifully.

When he turned around to pull his chair out, the older man subtly checked out his ass and – of course, it was delicious, round and perky, two perfect handfuls. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the fact that he had a huge character flaw, a hamartia – he fucked people for money. He was basically a glorified whore, and if there was one thing Tony never had to do in his life was pay for sex, one way or another. So, really, he wouldn't start with – what was his name again?

“So, come by the office on Monday, we’ll talk over all the details, then you can take the draft contract to your legal team and we can meet again – say, in another week?”

“Yeah, sure, this sounds perfect,” he answered coolly, not mentioning that his “legal team” consisted of one single Natasha Romanoff, who would have his balls for dinner when she found out that she would only have seven days to look over what was bound to be a very long, very complex contract.

“Well, then, Mr. Stark. You’ve got yourself a deal.” Norman got up from his chair, what clearly meant dinner was over, and Tony rushed to his feet, offering his had to shake.

“You won’t regret this, sir,” he spoke in a strong, firm voice, because he was positive of it.

“Good.” Osborn shook his hand once and turned to leave without saying goodbye.

“It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Stark, I hope we’ll see each other again soon.” The pretty boy took his hand as well, eyes glinting, a coy smile on his face. Tony couldn’t tell if he was flirting or if he was pretending to be shy, but he ignored it and just nodded curtly.

“Thank you, it’s been a pleasure to meet you, too.” He didn’t dare try to remember his name, Tony was pretty sure it started with a P, but he wouldn’t risk it.

As soon as they left the restaurant, the CEO punched the air in celebration, calling Pepper right away.

---*---

The meeting on Monday went smoothly, they agreed that Tony would be personally charged with the maintenance of his tech at least a week a month – he made it seem like it was a courtesy, but, in reality, he still didn’t have anyone on his team who could do the job quite as well as he could. They also agreed that he would have a small team of five scientists at his disposal during such period, so he wouldn’t have to dislodge anyone from his company to do it – again, he didn’t mention that five people were basically half of his scientific team and he couldn’t afford them not working for SI for a whole week each month.

As expected, he didn’t see the pretty boy in the meeting, Tony supposed he only made an appearance in social functions and such, so he could make Norman look good. To Tony’s surprise, though, seven days later, after Natasha bullied him into promising a 10% raise after the shit he’d pulled with the contract, the pretty boy was in the meeting room when he arrived to sign the deal. Norman’s PA and a few of his lawyers were there as well, Tony was with Pepper and Natasha, and he quickly whispered to Pepper that he was the boy he’d told her about. He approached them with a shy, nervous smile and Tony almost wanted to roll his eyes at the facade.

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker, I’m an intern here.” Ah, Peter. That sounded about right. Tony thought it was something along those lines. And he was an intern for Oscorps, of course. What a joke. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Stark. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Hello, Mr. Parker, this is Miss Potts, my assistant, and this is Miss Romanoff, head of my legal team. I’ll have a coffee – black, no sugar. Thank you.” Again, he kept it professional and barely even looked at the kid, he knew what he looked like and he knew he was off limits, so why tease himself by looking?

“I’m good.” Natasha smiled sweetly, making the boy blush even harder.

“I’ll have the same as Mr. Stark, thank you, Mr. Parker.” Peter quickly turned and headed out of the room and Pepper turned to whisper to him. “You weren’t kidding, he’s really fucking young, he looks like he could be Norman’s grandson, for Christ’s sake.” Tony snorted and Natasha eyed them knowingly, but with a look that screamed “behave” and they both schooled their expressions. Shortly after, the boy walked back in with their coffee and they thanked him, as he blushed and nodded, taking a seat to the left of what should be Osborn’s chair.

The meeting didn’t take long at all, everything had already been discussed, it was just a formality, so barely twenty minutes later they were all getting up from their seats, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. Tony was almost out of the room when he felt a hand at his elbow followed by a softly spoken, “Mr. Stark, can I have a word?”.

Of course the devil himself would tempt him, even if Tony was trying to be good. He was forced to turn around and actually look at the young man, he was wearing a lavender dress shirt, with a dark gray tie and black pants. He looked like the cutest little businessman ever, and Tony was sure that if Peter were to turn his back, he would be presented with his perfect bubble butt looking amazing in those slacks, but – he was the forbidden fruit. Besides, Tony mused, he probably couldn’t afford a single night with Peter, he was only a millionaire, after all, and he’d rather spend his money on shiny things and get his lays for free.

“Yes, Mr. Parker?” The boy’s cheeks were impossibly red and Tony figured he couldn’t really fake that, so he supposed he really was shy to some degree. He looked over his shoulder and saw Pepper and Natasha waiting just outside the door, warning looks on their faces, and he rolled his eyes.

“I was wondering – I talked to No--, I mean, Mr. Osborn, about the possibility of maybe, uhm. Working with you? When you come to do the maintenance, I mean. It’s just, we don’t really have an engineering department, so you would be working mainly with biochemists and a few lab techs, so I thought maybe I could assist you with the hands-on work, you know? I don’t know if Mr. Osborn mentioned, but I’m studying to become a mechanical engineer as well and it would be an honor working with you, sir. Mr. Osborn said it was ok as long as you agreed, so...” He shuffled his feet and avoided looking at the older man.

“Look, kid.” Tony sighed, because, fuck. How could he say no to Norman’s boy without being rude? And how could he say yes to working with someone who was clearly useless to him and would only serve as a distraction – and worse, a temptation. He needed a way out of that. “I don’t really know if there would be much for you to do, I mean, it’s pretty new and advanced technology, and you’re, what, a freshman, right?”

“Actually, I’ll graduate next fall, sir.” Tony was taken aback by that and it must have shown on his face if Peter’s answering blush was anything to go by.

“I’m sorry, how old are you again?” He asked, trying not to sound too rude.

“I’ll be twenty in August, sir.” If Tony was impressed by that, he didn’t let it show, but if the kid would manage to graduate from Columbia at twenty, then he must not be that useless after all, but Tony wouldn’t hold his breath.

“Very well, then. I guess I’ll see you in a month, Mr. Parker.” He nodded and Peter could barely contain his grin when he shook his hand excitedly. It was cute and endearing and – oh, God, Tony almost fell for his little act. Fuck, he really needed to be on his toes around that guy.

“Thank you, sir, I really appreciate it!”

As soon as Tony stepped out of the building and headed towards his car with Natasha and Pepper on his heels, the Russian red-head looked at him seriously.

“Tony, I swear to God, if you try to get your dick wet with that boy, I quit. I’m not even gonna start on how much legal and PR trouble you’re gonna get yourself into by fucking Norman’s boyfriend, specially considering he’s, like, twelve, and happens to work for your business partner. Don’t fuck this up!” She warned as she got inside the car and, again, Tony had to roll his eyes as he got behind the wheel.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie, if the circumstances were different, I’d be all over that,” he admitted, noticing Pep’s aggravated look. “But of course I’m not gonna do anything to jeopardize this deal, ok? Besides, you know how I feel about gold diggers. You saw him and you saw Osborn, why in the fucking hell a guy like him would fuck a mummy like Osborn? He’s, like, a hundred years old!”

“He’s fifty five, and I don’t know if you know this, Tony, but people have sex for reasons that go beyond appearances. You know, like love, affinity, connection –”

“-- Money, fame, status. C’mon, Pep, don’t be naive. Do you really think that boy loves Osborn? He just likes expensive restaurants and fancy cars. Maybe, if he’s thinking big, he’s gonna use him to get a good job after graduation, but that’s it.”

“Well, then, if you think he’s such a terrible person, you’ll have no problem staying the hell away from him, right?” She looked at him with narrowed eyes and he looked away from the traffic for a second to smirk at her.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, easy breezy.”

--*--

As it turned out, it wasn’t easy breezy.

Peter was like a lost puppy trailing after him the following month, he spent the whole week glued to his hip, asking questions, making suggestions, and even supplying him with a never ending amount of coffee. If Tony was a hundred percent honest, he kinda liked it. The kid seriously treated him like a hero, a celebrity, he seemed to look up to him and, in the end, he proved to be a valuable asset on the team. He was really smart and hardworking, he understood everything Tony was saying even before he was done talking and he had really steady, tiny hands, which were always useful with nanotech.

Tony couldn’t really stay away from him and slowly learned a few things about him from what little information he stuttered out when answering his questions. First, the older man learned that he got into Columbia when he was only sixteen, which was kind of amazing, if he was being completely honest. Tony wanted to believe that that had happened way before he met Norman Osborn, but he didn’t really know when they met.

He had a scholarship and lived with his aunt until she passed away a little over a year earlier and now he shared an apartment with four other people, which surprised Tony, he figured Norman would have hooked him up with a nice place – but then again, he had no idea when they met, it could have been only months earlier. Peter said that, originally, he wanted to go to MIT, but he only got a partial scholarship there, so he had to give it up and go to Columbia. He also said that that was how he knew Tony beforehand. The older man was sort of a famous MIT alumnus, specially among the engineering students, so Peter heard of him and followed his work through scientific publications, which was – well, Tony was flattered.

Even if those bits of information somewhat made Tony warm up to the young man, other few things still annoyed him just as much. First of all, clearly Peter was a very bright kid, possibly one of the smartest people Tony knew besides himself and Bruce, he didn’t really need Norman’s influence to succeed, and still, there he was. Second, he quickly picked up on the fact that Peter wasn’t exactly Norman’s boyfriend, he was more of a… Sugar baby? And one of many, actually, although he seemed to be the favorite. After Tony signed the deal, he started paying closer attention to what tabloids said about Norman and apparently he had a very long list of (young) lovers, but he was officially single.

Somehow, that made Tony even more disgusted by their relationship. He just couldn’t understand why a guy like Peter would put himself in that position, for what? Money? A job? What was it that Norman could offer him that he couldn’t get himself? The thing was, Peter kind of reminded Tony of himself at that age. He was pretty much in the same situation: he had no family and no money, he only had his brains – and while Tony had made something out of it, Peter was trying to take a shortcut and the engineer didn’t appreciate that.

“Here, check this out, see how they respond a lot faster now?” Tony made room so that the younger man could look through the microscope, a wide grin spreading across his face in a few seconds. “You have to think of them as neurons, they communicate with each other by electrical pulses, similar to synapses. For that to work out perfectly and seamlessly, they need to be really close by, without touching, that’s why the electromagnetic field has to be perfect, if it’s just a tiny bit off, the response time increases exponentially. Got it?”

“Got it, Mr. Stark!” He answered excitedly and Tony smiled at him.

“Well, my work here is done. See you next month?” Tony got up from his chair, gathering his things around the lab.

“I can’t wait." Somehow, Tony knew he actually meant it.

The following month, Peter was just as helpful and just as excited as the month before. He was in the lab before Tony – who was always early himself – and he always greeted him with a bright smile and an excited wave of his hand. As the engineer settled his things on his work bench, Peter would get him coffee, and he always remembered how Tony liked it. They got right to work, which they did everyday for a week without any disruption. The intern always offered to stay late, but Tony never took him up on that, he knew he had classes in the afternoon and he didn’t want him to get in trouble. Just as he was starting to warm up to him, though, on Friday, the engineer was reminded why he didn’t like him in the first place.

“You’re late, Mr. Parker.” Tony mumbled from his seat in front of the microscope as soon as he heard the glass door open with a hiss as the smell of coffee filled the room. Peter was only twelve minutes late, but it was only their second week working together, it didn’t seem very professional.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark, I was – uh, in a meeting with Mr. Osborn.” He lied through his teeth, Tony could almost smell the nervousness when he came close enough. He hated being lied to, specially when he knew what Peter was probably doing in that “meeting”. It was just inexcusable.

“Just because you’re Norman’s boy doesn’t mean you get special treatment in this lab, you hear me? I don’t care what you do with him all the other weeks that I’m not here, but if you wanna be a part of my team, during my lab hours, you gotta be here and on time. Are we clear?” He didn’t bother lifting his eyes from the microscope and almost missed the whispered and wavered, “yes, sir” that Peter let out. When he turned to the younger man, his eyes were bloodshot, his clothes were rumpled, his face ashen and his lower lip was wobbling, he looked like he had a rough night and an early morning, and he looked like he was holding back tears. Tony almost regretted the harsh treatment. Almost. “Is this my coffee?” He pointed at the cup, averting his gaze.

“Yes, sir.” He answered quickly, offering the beverage like a gift.

On his third month there, Tony tried to keep his distance from the younger man. He promised Natasha and Pepper that he would and, up until that point, he hadn’t been very successful. So during the week of March that he had to go to Oscorps, he avoided the younger man, made himself unavailable and charged him with boring and complicated tasks that should take all week to get done. Still, the boy did everything he was told and only took half the time expected, he was always on time and always, always brought him coffee, just the way he liked it. It was really hard to ignore him.

“You know you don’t have to bring me coffee, right? It’s not in your job description.” Tony felt the need to point out on Friday when he saw the boy walking in with the beverage, but he just shrugged and smiled a little.

“I know, I just want to make sure you have everything you need, sir. Besides, I used to work at a coffee shop, I don’t mind making your coffee.” When he said that, Tony’s brows shot into his hairline.

“You made this?” He asked, incredulously, and the boy cocked his head in confusion.

“Yeah, where did you think this came from?” He frowned, amused.

“Uh, I don’t know, some fucking gourmet coffee shop downstairs?” Peter laughed, genuinely laughed, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled in the most endearing way, as he shook his head.

“You’re funny, Mr. Stark.”

Peter was the funny one, actually, and the whole thing was just so confusing to Tony. He thought he had the younger man all figured out, he thought he knew what kind of person he was, what he was after, but sometimes Peter would do or say things that just didn’t add up to Tony’s assumptions. The boy was kind and generous and humble, he was proactive and hardworking, and so annoyingly nice. He was easy to talk to, too, sometimes they’d have whole conversations about the most random subjects as they worked and Tony would only realize what they did at the end of the day, as he left and Peter waved at him with that charming smile and it made something burn in Tony’s chest and he couldn’t figure out why.

On his fourth month there, Peter surprised him on the first day. He brought him coffee in a mug that read: “If it ain’t broke, take it apart and fix it”. Usually, his coffee was put in a styrofoam cup with Oscorps logo on it, he had no idea where the mug came from, and when he asked, the boy blushed slightly, shuffling his feet.

“Uhm, actually – I heard it was your birthday last week, so I just – I mean, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be inappropriate or anything, it’s just – the environment and stuff. So. Uh – happy birthday?” He looked really uncomfortable just saying that, and Tony was equal parts amused and amazed, so he dropped his eyes back to the simple, white mug with bright red letters.

“That’s – actually really nice, Peter. Thank you.” He looked back at the young man and his cheeks were burning red. It was really… fucking cute. Fuck.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Stark.” His answering tiny smile warmed the older man’s heart, but he swallowed whatever feeling dared to emerge.

By Tony’s fifth month working with Oscorps, things finally started to feel natural, pleasant. When he arrived in the morning, he greeted everyone by name, threw smiles and flirty comments here and there and walked the hallways like he owned the place. His team worked like a well-oiled machine and they were always early, specially Peter, after that one time he was late. When he arrived, they already had a head start on him, which was always good, and they were able to go home a little earlier everyday.

“Good morning, everybody.” Tony raised his head when he heard Norman’s voice, a little surprised. Aside from his first day there, he hadn’t seen the old man at all, so it was weird for him to be in the lab, specially so early.

“Mr. Osborn, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Tony asked, watching closely as the older man walked towards Peter, who avoided his gaze furiously, pretending to be focused on his work, although it was clear that he was barely breathing. Norman grinned in his direction, but didn’t say anything, and Tony raised an eyebrow at the interaction.

“Miss Watson let me know you would be here today, so I thought I’d personally invite you to our annual Charity Gala, it will take place next month, on the eleventh. Will you be able to make it?”

“Yes, of course, sir, I can move some stuff around.” Fucking hell, he hated those functions. A bunch of assholes kissing other assholes’s butts and pretending to be good citizens by donating to charity only for the press. Just his type of event. But nonetheless, the type of event he needed to be seen in, someplace where he could meet people and make connections.

“Great, I’ll send the formal invitation to Stark Industries, I look forward to seeing you there. Mr. Stark.” He nodded in his direction and Tony did the same. “Mr. Parker.” He turned towards the young man who still hadn’t looked up. His cheeks burned a bright red when he looked at the older man.

“Mr. Osborn.” He gritted his teeth and, again, Norman grinned, buttoning his suit jacket as he left the lab.

Hm. Odd.

--*--

“At least pretend to be having a good time, Tony.” Pepper whispered through her teeth, a fake smile plastered on as she waved to people Tony could barely recognize. She was wearing a beautiful blue gown, his birthday gift to her, apparently, and not for the first time Tony wondered what would have been if he hadn’t blown things up with her. If he hadn’t cheated on her with half the city when they were in college. He was a stupid, stupid boy in his twenties. And thirties. And early forties.

It was a work in progress.

“I am pretending, don’t I look convincing?” He turned to look at her with what he was certain was a terrible grimace and she snorted into her champagne glass, causing them both to giggle like stupid teenagers. He was glad she had agreed to go as his plus one, he would have blown his brains for sure if he was alone in there.

“Good evening, Mr. Stark.” Ah, Tony could recognize that sweetly high-pitched voice from miles away, but when he turned around he wasn’t ready for such a vision. Peter was wearing a gorgeous burgundy suit with a black, silk shirt underneath, as well as a black tie. His hair was perfectly swept to the side, his curls tamed for once, but still showing at the nape of his neck. He looked absolutely beautiful and fucking expensive. Tony wanted to unwrap him, then wreck him in the best possible way. “And Miss Potts, right?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker, it’s nice to see you again,” she answered pleasantly and Tony was glad she was there because he was sure that he was staring for way too long to be polite. He cleared his throat and smiled at the young man, who quickly slipped into character looking shyly at him from under his eyelashes.

“Mr. Parker, fancy seeing you here,” Tony spoke confidently, subtly looking around for Norman, but he was nowhere to be seen. “And where’s Mr. Osborn?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him.” He averted his gaze, his tiny and usually steady hands trembling a little, before closing into fists. “Well, it was nice seeing you –“

“Hey, c’mon, have a drink with us,” Tony interrupted him, sensing his discomfort.

“Oh, uh – I’m sorry, sir, I’m not old enough to drink.” Tony was almost taken aback by that fact. The amount of information that he carried in that brilliant brain of his did not compute with his age.

“I won’t tell if you don’t. Neither will Miss Potts, right?” Tony turned to look at Pepper, only to see her staring daggers at him, in a way that probably only he could tell, they had a special way of communicating, so he quickly sent her a “what?” glare and she sighed.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear any of this and I’m just gonna go talk to Mrs. Bain, if you’ll excuse me, please.” She smiled sweetly at Peter and walked away from them, as Tony rolled his eyes.

“Well, her loss.” The older man shrugged, grabbing two champagne glasses from a passing waiter. “Have you ever had one of these?” He asked, offering him one of the glasses. “I’m not corrupting you, am I?” Tony asked charmingly, with a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow. Peter giggled, blushing and shaking his head no.

“No, it’s okay, Norman usually gets me a few drinks when we’re out,” he answered, accepting the glass. Just the mention of the older man had Tony deflating slightly, reminded of the fact that Peter couldn’t be his.

“So, how come you didn’t come together?” He asked innocently, although he knew it was probably a touchy subject. The younger man took a long sip of his drink, licking his wet lips once he was done, and Tony wished it was his tongue running across those thin, pink lips.

“He’d rather bring another date, so.” He shrugged with a small, fake smile, and quickly changed the subject. “I’ve recently read that you’re working on a holographic system that’s supposed to connect with the user's hippocampus and project their memories, is that true?” Tony was surprised by that, he had written a paper about it with Bruce not long before, Peter must really keep up with his work.

“Yeah, but I’m in a bit of a pickle right now, got stuck with the neuroscience portion of it.” Tony scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed about the admission, but Peter only smiled wider.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. And it’s gonna be groundbreaking. Again. Well, it seems like everything you do changes the world somehow.” His cheeks were flushed, and maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe Tony was falling for Peter’s little game, but he thought he was actually flirting with him. Really flirting, not “I wanna be your sugar baby” flirting.

“That’s a lot of trust you’re putting in me, kid.” Tony dared to step a little closer to him and the young man bit his lower lip, holding back a smile, cheeks flushing pink.

“Yeah, but I think you can back it up.” He tilted his head back a little to look up at the older man. Tony held his gaze for a few seconds, before he dropped it to his lips. He smiled when the young man nervously licked them.

“I’m sorry I’m too hard on you in the lab. I just don’t want anyone thinking that I treat you differently because of the boss.” Tony took yet another step and Peter didn’t move an inch, allowing him to get closer and closer.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just thankful to be in your team, I’m learning a lot.” This time, Tony was sure he wasn’t imagining things, Peter’s eyes definitely dropped to stare at his lips and the engineer inhaled sharply.

“Peter –“

“Ah, there you are.” Norman appeared out of thin air and Tony took three steps back, a cool smile on his face. Osborn was accompanied by a gorgeous blonde girl who couldn’t be older than twenty five, she was tall and slender, and looked like a supermodel – and she probably was. “Good evening, Mr. Stark. Pete.”

“Good evening, Mr. Osborn,” Tony answered with a schooled smile, not sure if he was in trouble for giving Peter champagne, but the CEO barely seemed to notice it when he turned to the younger man, who didn’t even bother to answer him.

“How do you like the party so far?” He asked politely, although his gaze was fixed on Peter. His date seemed bored out of her mind, but she eyed Tony with interest and the older man had to avert his gaze, he really didn’t need yet another sin to avoid.

“It’s great, sir,” Tony answered politely, but the older man didn’t really seem to care.

“Good, good. Do you mind if I borrow Peter for a little while?” He eyed the younger man and Peter grit his teeth, his hand tightening around the champagne flute.

“No, sure, he’s all yours.” He gestured towards the boy and he looked back at him with a look of betrayal on his face. Tony raised his eyebrows, not sure what Peter expected him to do, but the young man rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Come on, Peter, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” And with that, he led the way, confident that the boy would follow behind, which he did, after downing the rest of his drink, shooting one last pleading look Tony’s way. Again, the older man had no idea what he wanted.

Once they left, Tony quickly found Pepper in the crowd as she chatted with Justin Hammer, the biggest asshole to ever exist in the corporate world. He stole all of Tony’s projects when the engineer worked for him, all the weapons the U.S.A. Army used ten years earlier were designed by Tony and he never got any credit for that. Two years after he quit Hammer Industries, they lost that contract because they simply had nothing new to offer.

“Good evening, Mr Hammer, if you don’t mind, I’m just gonna take my date elsewhere, someplace where the toxicity level is more bearable. Bye.” Tony interrupted them unceremoniously and steered Pepper away from him as she threw apologies over her shoulder. “Don’t apologize to him, he’s trash.”

“Tony, you can’t act like this if you wanna be the CEO of the biggest tech company in the country. You need to make connections and keep good relation –“

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that with anyone else, except for him, promise.” He rolled his eyes once they got to the bar, where he leaned on the counter and flirted with the barman, before ordering two drinks.

“Great, then I hope you intend to keep a good relationship with Mr. Osborn,” she whispered, looking around to make sure nobody was listening. “Just a quick reminder: fucking his boyfriend is not very friendly.”

“Peter’s not his boyfriend,” he answered automatically, before taking a sip of his scotch, his eyes scanning the room until he found the younger man in a small circle of people, along with Mr. Osborn and his date. Tony hated that so much, the boy looked devastated but he was still there. Why the fuck was he still there? He didn’t need that shit. “They didn’t even come together today.”

“Okay, not the answer I was looking for, not a reassuring answer at all.” Pepper spoke to herself under her breath, then grabbed him by the jaw, forcing him to look at her. “Tony Stark, I hope you’re not –“

“Jesus, relax!” He snapped, freeing his face from her grip. “You and Natasha are driving me mad with this, I swear to God, the more you tell me not to do it, the more I wanna do it, just out of spite. Leave it alone, will ya?”

“Fine, whatever, do what you want, that always works out perfectly for you,” she snapped right back, taking her drink from the counter and walking away from him. “Don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face!”

Tony ignored her, they always had those arguments – she was usually right, Tony usually fucked up somehow and he usually went crying to her anyway, and she always helped him, so whatever. He was slightly tipsy, anyway, he would regret the whole thing in the morning, but right at that moment he was focused on Peter. The young man seemed really uncomfortable and out of place where he stood, among a few businessmen, but he was still there.

Norman stood to his left with his date, talking animatedly with the other men. To Peter’s right, there was a tall, slender man, in his early forties, and he wouldn’t take his eyes off of the boy. Sometimes he would whisper things in his ear, eliciting a small, polite smile from him, but no answer. Some other times he would rest a hand on his waist for no particular reason and Tony would watch with amusement as the boy tried to get away politely. Norman watched the whole interaction discreetly, carefully, but didn’t intervene.

Eventually, Peter excused himself and headed towards the bathroom. Tony watched the other man and, sure enough, he followed him there a few seconds later, under Norman’s intense gaze, a small smirk playing on his lips. Tony quickly understood what was probably going on. Again, the older man was disappointed in the boy. Such a smart kid, with so much potential, he could do so much better. Tony turned towards the bar, ordering another scotch. Since he was there, with no date, and nothing else to do, it wouldn’t hurt to have a few drinks.

Several minutes later, he was leaning against the bar, talking to Mr. Zimmer, the CEO of Accutech, and actually scored a meeting for the following week to pitch his nanobots. After his deal with Oscorps, he was able to close two smaller ones and had a few more meetings scheduled. As he imagined, people took notice of Stark Industries after that. Having such a huge, important company such as Oscorps trusting SI meant a lot to potential partners.

As soon as Mr. Zimmer left, Tony saw Peter rushing across the room and out the door. He seemed really upset and agitated, so the older man followed him outside. When he found him again, Peter seemed a little lost. He looked around, as if he didn’t really know which way to go – the gala was held in one of Osborn’s mansions upstate and even leaving the premises was difficult to do without a car, the property was huge. He checked his phone, then, but Tony noticed the screen didn’t light up, it was probably dead. The kid ran his hands through his hair, seemingly desperate, and finally Tony decided to put him out of his misery.

“Hey, kid.” He stepped closer to the boy and he turned quickly, almost as if he was ready to throw a punch or something. “Whoa, there!” Tony held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, examining the boy’s face. He looked distressed, his eyes and face were red and he was a little out of breath. “Hey, are you ok? Do you need a ride home?” His eyes lit up in relief, his face relaxing instantly.

“Would you mind?” He almost pleaded and Tony was a little taken aback by the tone. “It’s just – my phone’s dead and – I just really need to get home.”

“Sure, kid, it’s fine, I was heading home anyway, c’mon.” Tony asked a valet to bring his car around and watched Peter as the younger man seemed to calm down slowly, but he was still acting a little out of sorts as they waited for the car to arrive. “Is everything okay, Peter?”

“Yeah, sure, just a little tired, I guess.” He lied, a fake smile on his face. He was easy to read, most of the time, when he wasn’t trying to attract older, rich men, Tony supposed.

Once the valet brought the car around, Tony opened the door for Peter, who quickly slipped inside like it was an oasis. Tony tipped the valet and joined the younger man, noticing that he seemed almost relieved to be leaving the party.

“Rough night?” Tony asked conversationally once he started the car, pulling away from the driveway. It was a stupid question, but he couldn’t help it.

“Try rough couple of months,” he scoffed, running a hand though his once tamed hair, elbow resting against the window.

“Wanna talk about it?” He looked at the younger man from the corner of his eye and saw him shake his head weakly.

“Not really,” he mumbled and they fell silent. Tony wanted to say something else, but Peter didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk, so he just drove for a few minutes, heading for the city, when the kid spoke up again. “I’m so sorry for the trouble, you can drop me off anywhere, I’ll just take the subway.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll drive you home. Where is home, by the way?” Tony knew Peter lived with four other students close to campus, but he didn’t know where exactly.

“Harlem.” He sighed, sounding annoyed. “Ugh, that’s the last place I want to be right now,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Why? Trouble with your roommates?” Tony raised a brow and the boy shook his head a little.

“Not really, they’re just really loud, specially on weekends. They probably have people over right now and I’m not in the mood, it’s all.” He gave him a tiny smile, but he didn’t really mean it.

“Tell you what,” Tony started, choosing his next words carefully. “Why don’t you come to my place?” He saw from the corner of his eye when Peter almost broke his neck turning to look at him in surprise. “Just for a few hours, so you can cool down some. We can have a few drinks, grab a bite to eat, and once you’re feeling better, I’ll drive you home. Or you can crash there, whatever you prefer. What do you say?” He turned to look at the young man and his eyes were wide, mouth agape in shock. Tony almost wanted to laugh.

“Uh – I don’t – I don’t want to be a bother, sir, you’ve alre--”

“Don’t be silly, I wouldn’t be offering if it was a bother. You don’t need to say yes if you don’t want to, but if you do, you’ll make this old man very happy, I wouldn’t mind some company tonight.” Tony smiled charmingly at him and Peter blushed, the older man could tell there were a million things going through his head.

“Uhm. Okay. Yeah, sure.” He nodded and Tony’s heart did a little flip in his chest and he didn’t even know why. If he was honest, he had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it, he just wasn’t ready to let the younger man go.

The rest of the drive was long and mostly silent. Peter was usually very lively and talkative in the lab, he always had some fun fact to share or an anecdote about something that happened in class, but that night he was gloomy and quiet, but he still answered to Tony’s small talk. When they arrived at the older man’s penthouse, Peter was a little nervous, looking around as if he was out of place, looking almost regretful. Tony decided that he hated seeing him like that.

“Hey, wanna see something cool?” He asked as soon as they walked into the living room. The young man turned to look at him curiously, a small smile on his face as he nodded. “Evening, Jarvis. Could you get the windows, please?” As he said that, Peter frowned, then jumped almost a foot in the air when the A.I. answered.

“Good evening, sir, I hope you had a good time at the party.” As he said that, an entire wall of the living room turned from blurred, dark glass to transparent glass, revealing an amazing view of the city skyline. “Good evening, Mr. Parker.”

“What – how – you have an AI here? How does he know who I am?” Peter half whispered, half shouted, apparently undecided if he should be concerned or amazed. Tony laughed and placed a hand on Peter’s lower back, guiding him towards the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“I don’t only have it, I made it. And he’s equipped with an advanced face recognition technology that I designed, in case anyone comes in here with ill intentions. I started working on Jarvis when I was at Hammer Industries, it was supposed to go to the military, but after I resigned, I decided to keep it to myself. Jarvis runs the house and helps me in the lab.” Tony stuck his hands in his pockets and observed as the young man leaned against the window, looking amazed and a little lost.

“So cool!” Peter’s eyes were round and excited, all the gloominess from earlier apparently forgotten. “Can I talk to him? Like, will it acknowledge my voice?”

“Of course, Mr. Parker, why wouldn’t I?”

“Hi, Jarvis!” And just like that, Peter stroke up the silliest conversation with Jarvis, as Tony headed to the kitchen. He decided that since Peter wasn’t really allowed to drink, he’d make them some coffee, and later they could order something to eat. When he went back to the living room, the young man was still leaning against one of the windows as Jarvis tried to convince him that he had no intention of starting a rebellion to wipe out humanity.

“Don’t worry, Jarvis wouldn’t do that,” Tony smiled, placing two mugs on the coffee table and Peter shrugged.

“I wish he would, sometimes I think we failed as a species.” He turned around to face the engineer with a cheeky smile. Fuck, he was so beautiful. “Thank you for everything, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

“You would have figured something out, you’re resourceful. Maybe you would have built a car out of a cardboard box, two paper clips and four potatoes.” He leaned against the window beside Peter and the young man looked up at him with a grin.

“Or maybe I would have found someone to lend me a charger so I could call an Uber?” He bumped Tony’s shoulder with his own and the older man scoffed.

“Yeah, but that would’ve been boring, don’t you think?” He raised a brow with a grave face and the young man laughed.

“You’re right, this is much more fun.” His face was so open, so beautiful, all awkwardness from before completely gone. Tony leaned in to whisper close to his ear.

“It can get better.” He pulled back a little to look at the boy’s face. He looked surprised, eyes wide and lips parted, but he didn’t pull away, he didn’t take a single step back, so Tony took a chance. He placed one hand gently on his cheek, testing his reaction, and Peter’s breath hitched, his gaze dropped to Tony’s lips, but he stood still, breathing rapidly but quietly. That was all the answer he needed.

He buried his hand in those curls he’d been dreaming about for months, as his other arm snaked around his thin waist, pulling him close, no chance of escape. Not that he thought that Peter would try to escape if he could, anyway. Tony felt intoxicated when their lips touched, Peter’s mouth was as soft as it looked, his skin as smooth as he imagined. The younger man melted against him, bodies flush together as Tony’s tongue begged for entrance in his mouth.

He pushed him against the window, once again testing the young man’s reaction to his advances, but Peter was so far gone, he barely seemed to notice they’d changed positions. Tony kissed him deeply, slowly, as his hands made their way around the boy’s hips, thumbs stroking his hipbones over the silk shirt, and he sighed. Tony licked into his mouth, swallowing his little gasps and whimpers, and he could tell that Peter had never been kissed like that before, if the way his legs gave out were any indication. He held him up, though, his body trapped between the older man’s and the cold window.

He felt Peter’s erection already poking his upper thigh and he smiled into the kiss, feeling his own cock start to swell against Peter’s lower stomach. He moaned quietly, pulling away from the kiss for a few seconds to check if the boy was doing okay, but Peter didn’t even open his eyes, he just rocked his hips slowly, rubbing his erection against Tony’s thigh. Feeling confident enough, the older man lowered his hands to his perfect ass, squeezing his cheeks tightly as he pulled him even closer to him. Just as he imagined, it was firm, yet supple, it filled his hands nicely, and Tony didn’t hesitate to lift him a little by the ass, aligning their cocks and pressing both erections together.

“Mr. Stark,” he whimpered, humping against Tony, trying to balance his weight on the tips of his toes as Tony held him up. The older man took advantage of the way he threw his head back, exposing his throat, to make his way down his skin, peppering his long, pale neck with kisses and bites. Peter moaned as he tried to undo Tony’s suit jacket, which he allowed, putting just a little distance between them. He went back to his mouth with another kiss, faster than before, more urgent, before pulling away just a few inches, panting against the kid’s mouth.

“C’mon, babe, let me take you to bed,” he whispered and Peter nodded quickly.

Tony took his hand and led him to his own room, and as soon as they were inside, he pushed Peter against the king sized bed and quickly started working on his shirt, every inch of silky, white skin it revealed made the older man harder. Peter smelt and looked expensive as fuck, his skin was smooth as a baby’s, not a single hair in sight, and it was soft and unmarked, peppered only with a few light brown freckles along the collarbones. His nipples were tiny and light pink, hard from excitement and begging to be bitten.

Tony wanted to eat him up – and out – he always looked good when they were in the lab, in his cute slacks, dress shoes and lab jacket, but that night he looked delicious, like an expensive meal, and Tony was a starving man. He got rid of the shirt, revealing his thin chest and surprisingly defined abs, and he worshiped the exposed skin, covered it with open mouthed, wet kisses and bites until it turned red from the abuse. He wanted to mark him up, leave bruises on him so that at least for a while, Peter could be his.

He took a perked up nipple in his mouth and sucked it mercilessly, as he pinched the other one between his fingers, and Peter gasped, hands flying to grab Tony’s shoulders. He didn’t waste too much time, though, and quickly started undoing his pants, pulling them down his legs. The act revealed even more soft, smooth skin and plump, soft thighs that the older man couldn’t help biting. Peter whined quietly when Tony splayed his open palms on his legs and squeezed, as he sucked bruises on the boy’s inner thighs. His face was so close to his cock, covered only in tight, black boxer briefs, so Tony rubbed his cheek against it and Peter cried out. As soon as he lowered his boxers, Peter’s cock sprung free, and Tony was delighted. It was small and flushed pink, rock hard and already dripping pre-cum. The older man didn’t think twice as he put it all in his mouth, eliciting a scream from the young man.

“Oh, my God, Mr. Stark!” He bucked his hips wildly, his legs falling open, and, for the second time that evening, Tony thought that maybe nobody had ever done that to him. “Oh, God! Fuck!” He kept moaning desperately, as Tony sank his fingers in his ass cheeks, bobbing his head up and down, sucking and licking his shaft and paying extra attention to the head. Peter kept both of his hands beside his body, clenching at the sheets, not daring to touch Tony or demand anything. The second the older man’s fingers touched his balls, he lost it. “Mr. Stark, please, I – Oh, God, oh my God –“ He blushed furiously, Tony noticed when he raised his head and let go of his cock with a loud pop.

His whole face and chest were flushed pink, he held his upper body up, resting on his elbows as he panted, looking thoroughly debauched. His once gelled curls were wild and loose, covering his forehead, and Tony just wanted to ruin him even more. He smirked at the younger man, who seemed completely out of it, barely able to understand what was happening. Tony lifted his legs, pressing his bent knees to his chest and Peter got the idea and held his legs in place, exposing himself beautifully to him.

The older man’s mouth watered as he looked at his quivering, pink hole. It looked so fucking tight and so fucking ready for his cock at the same time, he could see Peter was mortified in that position, but he still held himself open, so eager for what was to come. Tony grabbed his ass cheeks and spread them, burying his face in his crack and licking a stripe up from his tailbone to his balls, only to hear the young man screaming desperately.

Tony was feeling really smug, he didn’t remember the last he made anyone scream like that. He was always a generous lover, he liked giving his partners pleasure, but Peter didn’t seem to be used to it if his reactions were anything to go by, so the older man took even more pleasure in making him feel so good.

“Mr. Stark, I’m gonna – I’m not gonna last, please!” Tony pretended not to hear him, as he kept licking over his rim before he started to try to breach him with his tongue, as Peter cried out, bucking his hips. The older man held him in place and kept trying to fuck his tongue into him, until he felt Peter’s fingers in his hair, pulling him up. “I wanna come with you inside me – please,” he whispered once Tony’s lips were over his mouth, his cock perfectly aligned with the boy’s hole.

He grunted and kissed him again, just as wildly and roughly as he did before. The young man quickly started undoing Tony’s shirt, and only then did he realize that he was still dressed as Peter laid on his bed completely naked. He groaned into the kiss, because fuck, that was hot, but he helped the boy take off his shirt and undershirt.

Peter curled one leg around his waist, kissing Tony back enthusiastically and a little less shyly now that the older was a little undressed as well. He ran his soft hands all over Tony’s broad back, then up his shoulders and into his thick hair, all the while moaning and bucking his hips, begging to be touched. Tony took advantage of the position they were in to slide his fingers in between Peter’s cheeks, feeling his tight entrance twitch, anticipating the touch. He didn’t do much more, though, he just kept kneading his ass, letting his fingertips just slightly brush against his quivering hole.

Peter grew impatient then, and instead of pushing his hips up, against Tony’s own cock, he started pushing then down, against his fingers. The older man chuckled, brushing his chin against the pale neck, already noticing it turning pink with beard burn.

“Mr. Stark, c’mon, please, I--” He mumbled incoherently, holding on for dear life to his shoulders, his breath short, swollen, wet lips parted, his lids heavy. A vision of paradise. “I need--”

Tony knew what he needed, but he wouldn’t give it to him just yet. Still, he let his middle finger wander towards his entrance, feeling his hole clenching, trying to pull it inside, ready to take whatever Tony was willing to give. He grabbed his thighs again, spreading them far apart, making Peter yelp in surprise. He kissed his hole gently one last time, then moved away, getting off the bed.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.” Tony smirked, undoing his pants, and he noticed Peter’s eyes intent on him. As soon as his cock sprung free, the young man whimpered, whispering “fuck” and biting his lips hard. “Like what you see?” Tony asked, cockily, he knew it was a nice view. He was nicely groomed and his cock was cut, long and thick, and at the moment it was rock hard like never before and dripping with pre-cum. He stepped out of his pants and headed towards the night stand before Peter could answer. He grabbed a bottle lube and made his way back to the bed, positioning himself between his legs once again.

He coated his fingers with plenty of lube and breached his entrance with one fingertip, only to hear a long, deep moan coming from the younger man, who clung to his shoulders for dear life. He fucked his finger in and out of him, slowly at first, but quicker as Peter’s hips started moving along with him, begging for more. Tony leaned down and kissed him, and felt one of Peter’s hands in his hair, as he curled both of his legs around the older man’s waist. Tony kept kissing him as he sunk another finger in his hole, eliciting a surprised moan from him, as he tried to adjust to the stretch.

They kept kissing and rocking against each other eagerly, as Tony fucked him open with his fingers, scissoring and curling them, until he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside him. He drew back just enough to hold his cock, guiding it towards Peter’s entrance. Slowly and unrelentingly, Tony sank his cock inside him, blinded with pleasure as each inch sank further inside. Peter whined in pain but didn’t budge or asked him to stop, he took it like a good boy, holding still, legs spread wide, until Tony bottomed out. When he did, he wrapped his arms around his slight frame, lifting him a little from the bed, and Peter took a deep breath, holding his shoulders.

“That’s it, sweetie, you’re so good for me, I’m gonna make you feel so good.” Tony whispered nonsensically in his ear, kissing his cheeks and neck gently, waiting for him to adjust. They stayed like that for a few seconds, until Peter started rocking his hips slowly, and Tony soon caught on. He grabbed his hips and slammed once inside him, hearing a scream coming from the younger man. He drew back and slowly built up a pace, slamming against him like there was no tomorrow. He moaned loudly, a mixture of pleasure and pain, Tony could tell, but instead of asking him to slow down, he pushed back against him just as hard, biting his neck.

Tony may have lost his mind somewhere along the way, pure instinct took over as he fucked into him with abandon, he heard his screams and moans and they made him hit harder, harder, and he thought he heard the younger man screaming just that, as he sank his nails into his shoulders and down his back, until he grabbed Tony’s ass and pulled him closer, faster, harder –

“Oh – Oh, Mr. Stark – I –“ Peter rolled his eyes back and it took Tony the better part of a minute to realize that he was coming, and he hadn’t even touched his cock. Spurts of his warm, white come covered both of their chests and Tony could feel that some of it caught on his chin. The sight of Peter underneath him – debauched, utterly satisfied, ruined – was enough to bring Tony over the edge, the force of his orgasm was almost blinding, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He let himself fall on top of Peter, barely aware of the fact that he was maybe a little too heavy for that, but the younger man didn’t seem to mind, if the soft, barely there caresses on his back were anything to go by.

They were silent for several minutes, bodies cooling down and falling asleep, but Tony’s mind was wide awake. What had he done? Peter was supposed to be off limits for a number of reasons, so many he couldn’t even focus on a single one. He felt the young man sigh softly under him, his hands drawing circles on his back peacefully.

“This was nice,” he whispered and it triggered something in Tony, because, fuck, it was perfect. It was perfect, but it was a lie, wasn’t it? Peter wasn’t really into him. He was just – he was just a fucking –

“I really hope this was a free trial, ‘cause I don’t think I can afford you, kid.” The minute the words left his mouth, he felt the younger man go rigid beneath him. He quickly pushed at Tony’s shoulders, trying to raise his upper body and the older man easily rolled off of him to the side, resting his head on his clasped hands on the pillow.

“What are you insinuating?” Peter asked with a frown, suddenly appearing very uncomfortable, gathering the sheets around him to cover his exposed skin.

“I’m not insinuating anything, I’m just saying I don’t think I have enough money to pay for this very expensive meal.” He wiggled his eyebrows, smirking, pretending he wasn’t as affected by what happened as he was. Peter turned bright red, his mouth falling open, gaping like a fish.

“What – I –“ he stammered, frozen for a few seconds before he jumped into action and out of bed, taking the sheets with him as he looked for his clothes around the room. “I can’t believe you just said that, you fucking asshole! Fuck you!” He yelled towards the bed and Tony was a little surprised by his reaction.

“Chill, it was a joke.” He rolled his eyes, noticing that he young man was almost fully dressed by then, at least he had his pants and shirt on, his tie and jacket were draped over his arm as he looked for his shoes. When he turned back to Tony, his whole face was inhumanly red and soaked in tears, it made Tony’s heart clench. “Jesus, kid!”

“I’m not laughing, asshole!” He yelled again, marching towards the door without looking back. “You’re all the fucking same, bunch of assholes, what was I thinking? I’m so fucking stup– ” Tony couldn’t hear the rest of his rant because he slammed the door with so much force that the older man was pretty sure he felt the building shaking a little bit.

Well, fuck.

--*--

Two weeks later, when Tony stepped inside the lab, he had a whole plan figured out. After Peter left that night, he went through all five stages of admitting he had been an asshole – as was common for him, he usually went through those at least a few times a week.

So, first, he denied it.

“The kid is obviously overreacting, right? It was just a joke and, even if it wasn’t, well, I wouldn’t have been that far off from the truth.”

Then, he was angry.

“Fuck that kid, he had no right to react the way he did, who does he think he is, slamming the door like that, yelling at me, calling me names, all because of a stupid little joke? Fuck him.”

Then, he bargained.

“So, okay, maybe I was a little over the line, but I can fix it, right? It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Then he felt a little sad, because, fuck, thinking back to their time together, the kid had never been anything but nice to him, he didn’t deserve that and Tony always fucked up with people, what was wrong with him?

Finally, he fully accepted it. He was definitely, irrevocably and undoubtedly an asshole. They had a nice time together, the kid was the best lay he had in fucking years, and sure, maybe he was with Norman for money or whatever, but what they did, what they shared that night – it felt pretty fucking real and Tony blew it.

So when he walked into the lab two weeks later, he had it all figured out. He would ask Peter to stay a little late, then, when everybody left, he would apologize to him sincerely and since he had a taste for expensive gifts, he even got him a gold bracelet, just as an “I’m sorry I was an asshole” gift, a peace offering.

The thing was, when he walked into the lab, Peter was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Mr. Parker?” He asked the closest lab tech and the young woman shrugged, uninterested.

“He quit a few weeks ago, I heard.” She mumbled, concentrated on the microscope in front of her, and Tony cursed under his breath, feeling even more guilty than before. Had the kid felt so offended that he decided to quit the team? That couldn’t be right, he was Norman’s boy, how would he justify that to him? He wouldn’t tell him about them, would he? Tony figured that if he had told Norman anything, he would have heard about it by then, but everything seemed normal and in order, other than Peter’s absence from the lab.

“He went back to being Mr. Osborn’s intern?” He asked just to clarify, maybe he could go talk to him after he was done in the lab for the day.

“No, he quit Oscorps.” She looked at him like he was asking dumb questions, like everyone should know that piece of information.

Tony did not expect that. His heart raced a little when he heard those words, for some reason. He thought he should be relieved, one less thing to worry about. With Peter gone, he wouldn’t need to worry about apologizing or Norman finding out about them. He didn’t need to worry about things getting weird in the lab or Peter trying to use it against him or something. But he wasn’t relieved. He was – what was he feeling? Whenever he thought about the possibility of not seeing Peter ever again, his heart clenched.

The engineer couldn’t understand what was going on inside him, he just needed to talk to Peter, fucking apologize, get him back on the team, make sure that they would still see each other every month, that they would still talk, and laugh together, and share a workbench so small their hips touched every now and again.

Which was why Tony found himself waiting at the main entrance of Columbia's Morningside Heights campus on Wednesday evening, probably looking suspicious as hell as he swept the crowd, looking for a familiar face. It was a long shot, but he new Peter had classes every afternoon and he knew at what time he was done most days. He guessed the young man would take a train at the subway station on 116th Street, so there he was, looking and waiting.

After almost two hours and no luck, Tony was ready to give up and leave when he saw him walking out, arms full of text books, a heavy looking backpack hanging from one shoulder. He was wearing reading glasses, baggy, ripped jeans, and a graphic t-shirt underneath an oversized gray hoodie and Tony realized he had never seen him like that, he was always well dressed at work and he only ever saw him in other two occasions: his dinner with Norman and at the gala.

Tony thought he looked even more beautiful like that, stripped off of all the fancy things that made him look like an expensive doll. He looked at ease and comfortable and Tony felt a weird desire to hold him. Fucking hold him. Not rip off his clothes and fuck him – well, that too – but to take him into his arms, pull him close and breathe into his his wild curls.

“Hey, Peter,” Tony called out loud enough for him to hear and as soon as his eyes made contact with the older man’s, his face turned red and his eyes widened before he dropped his gaze to the ground, picking up the pace to walk away from Tony. “Hey, hold on, kid, c’mon, I’m talking to you.” The engineer quickly followed, grabbing him by the arm and making him turn around.

“What do you want, what are you doing here?” He asked impatiently, looking around as if afraid to make a scene, there were a lot of people walking in and out of campus at that time.

“You quit Oscorps,” the older man stated, dumbly, and Peter stared at him as if he wanted to say just that. He waited to see if Tony would say anything more and he really meant to, but nothing else came out of his stupid mouth.

“Yeah, and?” He prompted, holding his books close to his chest defensively, getting ready for a fight, but Tony just shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“And now I don’t have any engineers on my team,” he offered, as kind of a joke, he thought, but again, Peter wasn’t laughing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away, but Tony held him back again. “What the hell, don’t touch me!”

“Ok, sorry, I’m sorry.” He let go of his arm and raised both of his hands in a peace offering. “I’m trying to apologize here, I’m not very good at this.”

“Clearly,” Peter snarked, and Tony nodded.

“Right. Ok. I deserve that. Look, let me just –“ He wracked his brain for something to say, he really should have thought it through. The thing was, he thought Peter would be a little more… Compliant. He didn’t expect him to still be that pissed off after almost two weeks. “Let me treat you to dinner, how about that? So we can clear the air?”

“No, thanks,” Peter answered quickly and started to walk away again, heading to the subway station. Since grabbing him and trying to stop him didn’t seem like a good idea, Tony started walking alongside him.

“Hey, c’mon, don’t be so stubborn, I’m just trying to apologize here,” he insisted, attracting Peter’s impatient gaze, as he still tried to balance all the books in his arms.

“You’re forgiven, is that what you wanna hear?” He snapped, and Tony was taken aback by the anger and hurt in his eyes. “There you go. You’re absolved! Goodbye now.” Again, he tried to leave the older man behind, but Tony didn’t let him.

“Hey, kid, don’t be so difficult, I just--”

“Tony!” Weirdly enough, after everything they’d done, that was the first time the younger man called him by his first name and even if the situation was less than ideal, it still sent a shiver down his spine. The boy stopped walking to look at him dead in the eye. “You called me a whore, now you’re asking me to dinner! What am I supposed to think here? I’m not for sale, I’m sorry if I misled you, go bother someone else.”

“Peter, I’m sincerely, honest to God, just trying to apologize here. I know I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that, nobody does, I’m sorry, I was way out of line. I just wanna take you to dinner because I think you’re a good kid, I know you enjoyed working with me and you looked up to me somehow, so I just wanna make it up to you, ok? I promise, nothing else. I just don’t want you to have the wrong impression of me. I’m a good guy, I’m just kind of an asshole sometimes.” Tony tried to convey all his honesty through his eyes, which made Peter deflate a little bit. The young man stared at him for a few seconds with a frown on his forehead, before he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“You’re very annoying,” he said, matter-of-factly, and the older man nodded.

“I’m known to be quite annoying, yeah,” he admitted, putting on his best pleading face, puppy eyes and all. “Let me make it up to you,” he insisted, and Peter rolled his eyes and sighed in resignation.

“Fine, dinner. Not tonight, though, I have work.” Tony cheered on the inside – and a little on the outside – but the younger man kept a straight face.

“Whenever you’re free.” Peter thought for a second and it almost seemed like he was regretting it already.

“Tomorrow, then. You can pick me up here. And I’ll choose the restaurant.” He stuck up his nose, defiantly, and Tony just spread his arms in surrender.

“Fair enough.”

So Tony decided to be a perfect gentleman, he put on a nice suit, he bought some flowers and took the gold “I’m sorry I was a jerk” bracelet with him when he went to pick Peter up. He was sure he would pick the most expensive restaurant in New York as payback and maybe he would order the most expensive things on the menu and, yeah, Tony knew he was really stupid if he were to comply, but, apparently, he wasn’t as smart as he once thought. And apparently he wasn’t immune to cute boys who knew how to play their cards right. So, yeah, maybe he fell right into Peter’s web in the end and maybe he wasn’t too upset about it. He could afford to spend a few dollars on him, have a good meal, smart conversations, and then move on. Because that’s what it was, right? Just him needing closure, if nothing else.

Except, when he parked his car, Peter was standing on the sidewalk in plain blue jeans and a cheap gray sweater and he looked thoroughly amused by Tony’s outfit when he got out of the car to get the door for him. He offered him the flowers and the boy was even more amused, a small chuckle leaving his lips when he read the “I’m sorry I was a jerk” card. Tony decided not to give him the bracelet after all, didn’t seem like a good idea by the looks of it.

“Where do you think we’re going?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, stopping in front of Tony before he got in the car.

“I was thinking a three-star Michellin restaurant?” The older man frowned and the boy snorted, apparently very amused.

“Yeah, and how in the hell would I afford to eat there, Mr. Stark?” He cocked his head to the side with feigned curiosity and Tony frowned.

“Afford? What – no, I’m buying! This is an ‘I’m sorry’ dinner. Besides, I invited you, it’s only polite.” He argued, but the boy quickly shook his head.

“You’ve apologized enough.” He gestured to the flowers. “Besides, I’m sorry, but I’m a little skeptical about gratuitous generosity at the moment, so we’re just gonna get some cheap pizza if that’s ok with you.” He shrugged, pointing in the general direction of the pizza place he was probably planning to go.

“What? Peter, come on. At least –“

“I only agreed to come if you let me choose the restaurant, so it’s either this or I’m heading back home.” He threatened to turn away and Tony jumped to stop him.

“No, no, sorry, you’re right. It’s your pick.” He opened the door to the passenger seat before Peter could change his mind and leave.

They got inside the car and Tony followed the young man’s instructions to the pizza joint, it wasn’t far from campus and was mostly empty when they got there. It was really not the sort of place that Tony went to anymore, but he couldn’t deny that was exactly the kind of restaurant he could afford when he was 19 at MIT. He was still a little confused by Peter’s choice of restaurant, not really sure if it was all a game, a plot to get back at him, but he seemed honest when he said he wanted to pay for his half.

“Maybe lose the jacket? And the tie?” He suggested with an amused smile from beside him when they parked the car and Tony chuckled slightly, doing just that and undoing the first three buttons of his shirt, rolling up the sleeves as well. “Much better.”

When they got inside the restaurant, Peter seemed to know the waiters, they sat at a table in the far back and ordered their drinks. They didn’t even have wine. A pizza place that didn’t serve wine, what even was that madness.

“So, you come here a lot? Everyone seems to know you around here.” Tony tried to start some amicable conversation and, surprisingly, Peter was receptive.

“I used to work here, actually. Before Oscorps.” He smiled fondly as he looked around, like he had some good memories there.

“Oh, cool.” Again, he was surprised by the boy’s story, Tony always assumed that he had an easy life. “Did I – was it because of me? The reason you quit?” He asked with a wince and Peter raised a brow, amused.

“Don’t be so self-important, it had nothing to do with you,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, so Tony thought maybe he wasn’t that mad anymore. He sure seemed a lot calmer than the last time they met. “You’re a jerk, but I’ve dealt with worse.” Tony snorted, he couldn’t even be mad, Peter was just stating facts. He was a little curious to know what led him to quit his job, if it wasn’t Tony, and suddenly remembered how upset he was when they left the party. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to ask, though, they were just getting back on good terms.

“So, what are you doing now that you quit Oscorps?” Tony cocked his head to the side and the boy shrugged, playing with his paper napkin.

“Back to waiting tables and making coffee.” He smiled, he didn’t seem upset by the turn of events, which was… unexpected? It was just so odd. Tony had this idea that Peter liked to live that expensive lifestyle he had with Osborn, wasn’t that the whole point of being with him? His confusion must have shown on his face, because Peter chuckled, furrowing his brow. “What?”

“Nothing, I just –” He shook his head and gave up in the middle of the sentence.

“What, you thought I’d find another rich dude or something?” He creased his brow, looking genuinely confused, not mad. “Wait, do you actually think I’m an escort?” He asked as an afterthought, and Tony could deny it, but he didn’t think he could make it believable anyway.

“Not exactly, but – something like that, yeah,” He admitted, scratching the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed for the first time in a long time, and braced himself for the explosion, but Peter just showed him a sad little smile.

“You thought I was with him for his money,” he stated and Tony winced, because when Peter said it out loud, when those words came out of his mouth, they sounded so wrong. Like they could never be true. “It’s okay, I guess he thought that, too, and so did everyone else. My coworkers, the press, even some of my friends,” he scoffed, folding his napkin in half just to have something to do with his hands. “I guess I’m just a stupid kid who watched way too many Disney princess movies growing up. I blame my aunt, honestly.” He tried to joke and Tony shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have judged you, it wasn’t my place. I just thought it was so odd for a guy like you to be with a guy like him.” Such a beautiful, brilliant, young man like you deserved so much better than him, was what Toy didn’t dare to say.

“I loved him,” he said and it shouldn’t have stung, it shouldn’t have made Tony’s stomach twist and turn, and his heart clench, but it did. It fucking did. “Or I thought I did. Turns out I got it all wrong. I thought we were going somewhere, but he wasn’t really serious about me, which became very clear when he decided not to take me to the gala, so.” He blushed slightly and dropped his eyes to the table, still folding the napkin until it was impossible to keep folding.

“Yeah, but you still came. Why?” Tony insisted, because he really wanted to figure him out, he needed to, because Peter wasn’t who he thought he was, he wasn’t that person Tony was so quick to judge and he needed to know who he was, after all. Because – he just needed to.

“I guess I – I just thought... He would regret it or something, you know. Once he saw me.” He gave a self-deprecatory laugh, rubbing a hand across his forehead as if trying to physically erase something from his mind. “Like… A stupid rom-com or something, you know. Like, the happy ending scene. Whatever. It’s stupid.” He ran a hand through his hair, blushing even harder. “Again, I blame my aunt, she was the one who made me watch all these stupid movies.”

Tony wanted to say it wasn’t his fault that everybody else was fucked up and couldn’t see what an amazing person he was, but the waiter chose that moment to interrupt them with their food, which was good, because Peter perked up and actually looked excited, rubbing his hands together and looking at Tony expectantly.

“Try it, tell me if it’s not the best pizza you’ve ever had in your life.” Tony smiled at his excitement and grabbed a piece of the cheap pizza. As expected, it tasted like garbage, but he wouldn’t tell Peter that, obviously.

“Sorry, kid, it’s not. But I’m forty-five and I’ve been to Italy, so don’t look so bummed.” Peter deflated slightly, grabbing a piece of his own and taking a huge bite out of it, like it was the best meal ever.

“Fine then, the best pizza in New York?” He compromised and Tony was a hundred percent sure it was most definitely not the best pizza in New York, but –

“I’ll give you that.” He conceded and Peter beamed.

“I’ll take it.”

They fell into an easy conversation about engineering and about Peter’s expectations for the future, which ended up turning into a conversation about what Tony did after college. The older man told him about all the steps he took to get where he was, working for other companies, having his ideas stolen, not getting credit for his work, quitting multiple jobs, almost going bankrupt trying to get Stark Industries off the ground and then finally being in a comfortable place in his professional life at 45 – better late than never.

“I think it’s amazing how you managed to turn your life around, you know. It’s really inspiring.” Peter seemed truly moved by Tony’s story, and the older man knew it was quite impressive, but he just shrugged it off.

“Yeah, boo-hoo, but now that you know my sob story, you have to tell me yours.” He took another bite of the terrible pizza and decided that sometime after the third slice, it became almost edible. Key-word: almost.

“Well, there’s not much to say and it’s definitely not as interesting or as successful as yours, but let’s see. My parents died when I was really young, I think I was around four – I’m ashamed to say I don’t really remember them. I still have their pictures, but I just – you know.” Peter shrugged and, yeah, Tony knew. After his mom died, he couldn’t look at pictures of her for years; at the same time that he wanted to remember her, he kind of wanted to forget. “I was raised by my aunt May and uncle Ben, but he was killed in a mugging when I was ten. Fuck, my life story is such a downer, are you sure you wanna hear it?” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, and Tony smiled softly.

“As long as you wanna tell it, kid.” Peter took a deep breath, as if considering if he actually wanted to tell that story, but finally seemed to decide to go on.

“So, my aunt May was a nurse, she struggled to make ends meet, but she was just – amazing, you know? She was like a mother to me, she never left me wanting for anything, specially when it came to my education, which was how I was able to get into college so early. Anyway, she passed away almost two years ago from a stomach cancer. So… It’s just me now. I’m the last Parker standing.” He smiled sadly, dropping his gaze to stare at the slice of uneaten pizza in his plate.

“Fuck, that’s rough, kid. But hey, if it’s any consolation, I’m also the last Stark standing. Maybe we should start a club or something,” he joked to try to lighten up the mood and the young man giggled, looking back at him with a smile.

“Like, the Parker-Stark Lonely Orphans Club?” He asked cheekily and Tony laughed. “Anyway, a year ago I got into Oscorps’s internship program, which was a dream come true, but then I screwed it up by sleeping with the boss, because I’m an idiot. The end.” He snorted and, again, Tony was a little surprised to learn that Peter got the internship before he met Norman, but at that point, it wasn’t much of a shock, he should have seen it coming.

“So, can I ask what happened? Between you and Norman? What made you quit?” Tony asked carefully. As the night went on, he felt like he and Peter were getting more comfortable with each other, more comfortable than they could ever be all those months before, when Tony made such an effort to despise him.

“Ugh, it’s… Well, it’s embarrassing.” It was barely a whisper. Peter’s cheeks were bright red and he wouldn’t meet Tony gaze.

“It’s okay, you don't have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He reassured him, feeling confident enough to place a hand on top of his on the table. Peter stared at them for a few seconds, before looking up at him.

“It’s… Something he did at the party. He kept pushing me to this guy, you know. Some business partner or whatever. And I didn’t quite understand what he was trying to accomplish, but then I went to the bathroom and this guy followed me there and he – he tried – to kiss me. And to touch me.” He blushed, gaze fixed on the table between them once again. Tony tightened his grip on his hand. “When I pushed him away he said something about Norman not knowing how to teach his whores good manners. When I tried to talk to Norman – he said I owed him.” He frowned, lifting his eyes to look at him. “For all the expensive gifts, and nice restaurants, and everything he did for me. He said it was the least I could do.” He scoffed, but his cheeks were pink, like maybe some part of him believed that – believed that while he thought he was dating someone he loved, he was actually whoring himself out to him.

“That’s why you were so upset at the party,” he whispered, realizing what a massive jerk he’d been after that. The kid must have been feeling like shit that day. Used and expendable and lost. And then Tony treated him like a fucking cheap hooker. “Peter… I’m so sorry for that night, I didn’t –“

“It’s okay, I’m fine now. Don’t get me wrong, it was a total dick move, but I already knew you were kind of a dick, so no alarms, no surprises.” He smirked, trying to lighten the mood, but nothing he could say could ever absolve Tony of what he’d done, of the harm he’d caused him that night. Fuck, if he was Peter, he would never have talked to him again, let alone agreed to dinner. His behavior the previous night suddenly made perfect sense. “I quit the next day, put his stupid gifts in a box and sent it to the tower, he can choke on them for all that I care.” He shrugged, trying to appear non-nonchalant, but Tony knew the whole thing must still fucking hurt, it had only been two weeks.

“I sincerely hope he does,” Tony offered and Peter laughed out loud, throwing his head back in delight.

When they walked to the car at the end of the night, Tony could feel that something had changed between them. He felt like all that time he knew Peter he had been missing a huge chunk of information, which made all the difference in the world. He could see Peter now, the real him. The ride to his place was taken in comfortable silence and when Tony parked his car, neither of them moved. The older man turned towards the younger one and licked his lips. He knew the answer to the question he was gonna ask, he knew he deserved it, but still –

“Can I get you number?” It wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was to apologize, show the kid a good time as a way of making it up to him for the terrible things he said and move on. Go back to work, go back to his life, but now – now he was stuck. Looking at Peter and seeing a whole new person. Someone he wanted to get to know more, but knew he didn’t deserve.

“Oh, I don’t know, do you think you can afford it?” Peter teased, and Tony actually blushed, embarrassed to remember how much of a dick he’d been.

“Ugh, I said I was sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand across his face, only to hear Peter’s delighted chuckle.

“I’m just kidding, don’t worry. But I don’t think It’s a good idea, Tony.” He bit his lower lip and Tony nodded to himself, because, yeah, he knew it wasn’t. It shouldn’t be. Because Peter deserved so much better than him. “But this was nice. Thank you for caring enough to apologize.”

“It was the least I could do.” He gave him a small smile and was taken by surprised when the young man unceremoniously leaned in and kissed him. Tony didn’t waste any time burying his hand in his hair, pulling him impossibly close as their lips brushed softly and tongues met in a sweet embrace. The young man pulled away after just a few seconds, though, and Tony didn’t even have the courage to open his eyes and acknowledge it was over. “Are you sure this isn’t a good idea? Because it sure tastes like a great fucking idea. I would know, I have great ideas all the time, ask anyone.” Tony whispered and Peter laughed, his face was still so close the older man could feel his breath on his lips.

“Goodbye, Tony. Good luck with your company,” he smiled, as he opened to door to get out of the car.

“I’ll miss you on my team.” Which was to say, I’ll miss you. Plain and simple.

“I’m sure you’ll find a replacement in no time.” I won’t, I don’t want to. I want you. “Gotta go now, I have work in the morning. Bye!” He got out and closed the door behind him, waving one last time before he walked away.

“Goodbye, Peter,” he whispered to the empty car, hands clutching the steering-wheel as he watched the boy disappear into the building.

--*--

Working at Oscorps was not the same without Peter. First, because he was actually a very good intern who helped a lot with every single task Tony assigned him. Second, because even though he hadn’t noticed it before, he always looked forward to talking to him. To learning those tiny little pieces of information the boy let escape through his lips once in a while, only to blush profusely and apologize seconds later.

Still, he kept going. Norman never bothered him, which was nice, and as the remaining months passed, Tony’s name became more and more recognizable, he closed so many deals over the course of that year, he was able to more than double his team and the office and lab they used to work got way too small for them. He started looking for some other place to go and the more he thought about it, more sense it made to move SI headquarters to California. Most of his partners were there and he would also be closer to his suppliers and many other business opportunities.

So after talking to Pepper, Nat, Rhodey, Happy and Bruce – “the original six”, as they liked to call themselves, including Tony –, he decided to move right after his contract with Oscorps was done in December. Those last few months were crazy and got crazier when B.A.R.F. was finally announced to the public. Both the product and the technology behind it sent Stark Industries to a whole other level, their stocks skyrocketed and Tony literately became the richest man in New York overnight, even richer than Norman – and that was saying something.

Which was why, when December rolled around and Osborn invited him to dinner to discuss the possibility of renewing the contract and he showed up with some supermodel hanging off his arm, he couldn’t help but think of the first time he was in that same situation. He remembered how nervous he was before the dinner, how excited he felt when they closed the deal and how gorgeous Peter looked that night. But he remembered, specially, what Osborn did to the younger man months after that. How he’d treated him, what he’d said to him.

“So, what do you say, Stark? Wanna be partners for five more years?” Osborn’s smile was kind of creepy, he hadn’t noticed it before. He offered him a hand and Tony stared at it for what felt like hours, although it was probably only a few seconds. It was great fucking deal, way better than the one he had before, but –

“You know what, Norman?” He smiled to himself and took a deep breath, wishing he was wearing his smart glasses so he could record his reaction. “Fuck you.” He beamed, standing up from his chair, admiring the expression of shock and horror on the older man’s face. He buttoned his suit jacket and, still smiling like a madman, left the restaurant like he owned the place – which he could, if he wanted.

On his last night in New York, he decided to look for Peter. He didn’t want to pressure him or anything, but they hadn’t seen each other in almost six months, so maybe something might have changed for him. Tony still couldn’t get him out of his head, each day that passed he wished he’d done things differently, so fucking differently.

He wished he’d been nicer, from day one. He wished he had lived up to his expectations, his hero worship. He wished he could have been a decent human being, a shoulder to cry on that night he was so vulnerable and broken. He wished he could have wooed him and gotten him to fall in love with him, the way he’d fallen for him.

He wanted a second chance, he really did, but when he knocked on the door of the apartment the boy used to live, the place where Tony had said goodbye to him all those months ago, some stoned college kid answered the door. When he asked about Peter, the boy just shrugged.

“He moved away a while ago, dude. Got a job somewhere or something.”

So that was it. Tony didn’t have his number and Peter wasn’t on social media – at least Jarvis couldn’t find him, and he sure as hell looked. So he gathered the last of his stuff and left New York for good, mind wandering to those few moments he’d spent with Peter, thinking how different things could have been if he hadn’t been so quick to judge.

No point crying over spilled milk.

Stark Industries flourished in L.A. All of Tony’s crazy, genius ideas were funded, so he finally finished his arc reactor project – something he’d started as a teen, but didn’t have the resources to continue – and started a line of electronics – computers, cellphones, tablets, all the good stuff. After the first couple of months, he bought a mansion in Malibu, just because he could, and finally felt like his life was heading in the right direction.

Still, it felt like there was a Peter-shaped whole in it, which was insane, they’d only known each other for a little over five months, it made no sense how much he missed him, they hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, and still there were nights he could fucking smell Peter’s scent on his sheets – sheets he’d never even laid on. Could feel his soft skin under his fingertips as he hugged his pillow close to his chest, the way he wished he’d held him that night when he stormed off, humiliated and hurt. Those nights he couldn’t sleep, could only stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out time travel, just so he could go back and fix things.

Once he was settled in California, he was invited to give lectures in universities all over the country. MIT was first, then NYU, Stanford, Yale, UCLA and, finally, Caltech in late November. His lectures were usually about the arc reactor, clean energy was in fashion, everybody was talking about it, and the fact that he figured out cold nuclear fusion was still a very hot topic.

It was still early in the evening when he finished his lecture at Caltech, a few students stayed behind to ask him questions or just talk for a bit, Tony had become sort of a celebrity for nerds, and he didn’t mind staying a little late talking to those starry-eyed kids, so it was already dark out when he was done. When he thought he was alone, he started gathering his things, thinking of somewhere he could eat in Pasadena before he headed back to Malibu, when he heard it. That sweet, unmistakable voice.

“That was a hell of a lecture.” Tony turned around slowly, almost afraid to be wrong, but there was no way he’d be. Peter was there, staring back at him, standing by the door with his arms crossed over his chest and a slight blush on his cheeks. “Hey. Long time, no see.”

“You ran away from me, kid.” He breathed out, letting his hands fall to his sides, even though they itched to touch, his legs were shaking with desire to run to the younger man, but he stood still, afraid that if he moved, the spell would be broken and he would realize that Peter was just an illusion.

“That’s a big ego you got there if you think I’d make such a dramatic life change just for you, old man.” He stepped into the room slowly, until he was standing right in front of Tony, close enough to touch, but neither of them did. “I’m getting my Masters here. I heard you were coming for a lecture.”

“So you came by to say hi?” Tony cocked his head to the side and Peter chuckled, nodding.

“Yes. Hi.” He perched himself on the desk Tony was using during his lecture and it was the older man’s turn to move to stand in front of him.

“Hi.” He smiled, stepping closer, paying attention to see if the young man was in any way uncomfortable by his actions, but he didn’t even flinch.

“So, I heard you ditched Norman.” He crossed his arms over his chest again, a small smile on his lips.

“I believe my exact words were ‘fuck you’, actually.” That made Peter laugh, throwing his head back and exposing his long throat. “I missed you kid.”

“Couldn’t find an intern to make you coffee and fawn over you while you were at Oscorps?” He jabbed a finger in his chest and Tony caught it in his hand.

“Couldn’t find you. Anywhere. And I looked.” He confessed, not letting go of his hand, not looking away from his eyes. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you and all the things I didn’t say.”

“Such as?” Peter asked coyly, biting his lower lip as he looked at Tony from under his eyelashes.

“I’ll miss you. Don’t go. Give me a chance. I’ll make this work. I’m in love with you. Things like that, you know.” He didn’t care that he was putting his heart on the line, he couldn’t choke on those words anymore, and if that was the last chance he ever got to say them, at least he could sleep peacefully at night. Peter blushed deeply, lips parted in shock, but then his face stretched in a slow, lazy smile, eyes focused on Tony’s.

“Can I buy you coffee?” He asked quietly, blinking slowly, and the older man shrugged, pretending to consider it.

“Depends. Can I buy you dinner? And don’t you dare ask if I can afford it.” He closed the distance between them as Peter laughed out loud, head thrown back in delight.

“I was just gonna say yes,” he promised, as he placed his hands on Tony’s shoulders, allowing him to come stand in between his legs. “Which is something I regretted not saying.” He confessed. “So, coffee first?”

“Yeah, coffee first.” Tony leaned down to kiss his lips, and they tasted so familiar, so right, and he knew it was crazy, because they shouldn’t, they were together for such a short time and Tony wasn’t a fucking teenager, he was a grown man, and he didn’t know how in the fuck he fell in love so hard and so fast, but he did. “It’s so good to see you.” He stole yet another kiss from him and felt the younger man’s lips stretching in a smile under his. Suddenly, he was reminded of a conversation they’d had over a year earlier. “So, do you think this is the happy ending scene in our movie or what?” He asked a beaming Peter, who pretended to examine his face carefully, before answering with a grin.

“I guess we’ll see.”

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #sugar baby au

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wunkolo · 4 years

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Hey, this might be a weird thing to ask, but...What sort of job do you have?

It sounds like you’re somewhere in tech, which is what I was originally studying a while back before having to drop for financial reasons.

I had decided to rule out programming-related jobs due to general scumminess from the industry exposure I got (crunch, low pay, poor employee communication, companies feeling super unethical/profit focused), but it’s extremely possible I just had bad experiences and need to look around deeper or in different specialties

I’m in a weird position in life right now where I’m trying to determine a main job industry to work in, and since I’m now in a big city, I was wondering if you might have ideas/advice of more safe and comfortable areas of the tech industry to work

What sort of job do you have?

I’m not sure what the word would be for what I do right now but more generally I am working on a game engine! It mixes a lot of tech though, so lots of high performance computation and GPGPU work and graphics/rendering stuff and all that. It’s great and stimulating and is exactly in my field of interest. Has a good mix of low-level performance code and high-level concepts and mass-parallelism and lots of bleeding-edge tech. Lots of C++ and Vulkan and x86 assembly(and ARM for fun on the weekends).

My first job out of college was with a startup that was incredibly reactive to every industry buzzword and trend and would totally re-paradigm itself and lie to investors to get more money coming in. It was very volatile and very terrible. Every new potential investor meant the CEO was over-promising features as if we already had them and then forcing me to implement it in less than a week. He deferred peoples income, changed the paycycle the day before payday, lots of nastiness and dubiously legal things. I was fresh out of school and didn’t know my worth so they got me “on sale” too. Lots of scummy startups/companies will prey on new-grads to get cheap work out of a fresh unjaded mind. It was just an overall pretty bad experience fresh out of school but I had to take the job to be able to make enough steady income to move out of my parent’s place asap and it was the most immediately available stable income. A lot of people unfortunately and understandably have to bide through this kind of employment abuse sometimes due to situational financial needs and cannot afford to say No to a clearly toxic environment. If you’re in a position in your life where you can pick your work then absolutely spend the extra time to make sure you aren’t parking yourself into something toxic. Especially now, a lot of people will take what they can get and there is a whole new class of remote-work horror stories where employers will demand that everyone leave their camera on during work hours or must respond to messages within 45 seconds or less or face employment reconsiderations.

My second job ever is my current one and is much more better managed and I would use it as a good example of the total opposite on that spectrum.

I was wondering if you might have ideas/advice of more safe and comfortable areas of the tech industry to work

This is kinda difficult to answer as it’s hard to meter the entire temperament of an entire company or industry just from a job listing(Once you filter pass all the obvious 5-year-experience in 2-year-old tech sort of stuff). Some industries can be more stressful than others like game development may be a lot more “crunchy” and susceptible to mismanagement than maybe a company making inventory software or web-development. I don’t know enough about other industries to really speak for them but I suppose the more reactive industries are under more stress and mismanagement than others. Startups tend to “follow the money” and react much more to every little movement in the industry.

Regardless of industry, the interview process will usually expose you to some insight as to how the culture and temperament is at a company. When I applied to this new job, and I didn’t know exactly what I was getting into, I had two in-person interviews and a phone interview that allowed me to scope out the “culture” of the company while they were also scoping me out for a culture-fit. I spoke to the employees themselves, checked them out on glassdoor if available, researched them on reddit/twitter/etc, asked the right questions(ask about their project methodology like scrum/agile/kanban, some kind of task organization that tries to avoid crunch), reading the details of the job offer(like sneaking in little things that remove your right as a worker), knowing the labor laws of your state, and knowing when your company is trying to bend those laws. There are lots of methods to keep you safe and comfortable while employed by any industry.

I’d love if anyone else can comment on this post and provide insight on the temperament of their industry and red flags they saw during the interviewing process that just bleeds mismanagement for others to read 🙏

#hope ur okay with me posting this publically #i havent responded to asks in a while but i still do the 'ask for the question to be privated' thing on my FAQ #scorchedtulips

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tomodachimeter · 3 years

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Answering old asks

m(__)m

That is all.

Emojis aside, I really am so very sorry it’s taken me so long to get around to responding to messages since the manga ended, I’ve been extremely busy in my personal life so it was kind of all I could do to cope with the manga ending during that time too, haha. As of now even the last volume and fanbook are already out, but I’ll leave a few comments on the messages I’ve been sent as they were. I’m also grouping together messages that are more of readers’ own comments rather than questions for me and responding all at once, so please forgive me if I couldn’t get around to responding individually!

“My heart pains to seeing the end ahahhhhh ashiya and abeno parted waysI really really really hope for something to come next. it kinda feels sad for meabt this ending”

“Honestly I like the ending but I didn’t like how the author left out information about abeno’s background. For instance, what happen to his parents?, where did he come from?, how did he come meeting Ao?,etc. I really wanted to see all of that, including how ashiya told his mom and sister about sakaes death. Other then that, I REALLY LOVE THE PROPOSAL!!! What is with shouen manga/anime with these different type of propsals like, “I’ll skate infinity with you”, “ I will die so you won’t be alone”,etc. Like COME ON!!! I also want to see a adult ashiya and abeno 🙏.”

I feel the same, I love the ending in its own way but I also expected so much more and I wanted to see more of their adventures. So I respect sensei’s decision but that just means it’s a free-for-all in terms of headcanons after!!

“Now that the manga has ended, I really wish the anime hadn't screwed up with the season 2 ending, so we could have gotten a continuation... I really miss animated Fuzzy running around, Ashiya's screaming and Abeno's "Hah?" (´꒳`)♡”

I wonder what they’d do for a season 3 if it ever came to pass. There are a few ways they could go about it like kind of just continuing down the manga, or they could ignore what they animated at the end of s2 and then keep going (Ao no Exorcist style), or I don’t even know, honestly. No matter how dissatisfied I am with how they do anime, I’d still watch it though. :U

“Wow I can't believe it took me so long to realize this! Recently, I noticed that the dynamic between Hanae-Sakae-Aoi-Abeno and the plot revolving around them is very similar to what happens in the manga Switch (Kai-his dad-Hal's dad-Hal). The relationship between Kai and Hal is similar to Hanae and Abeno's. Kai's dad died and this is related to Hal's dad, who has survived thanks to the death of his friend (Kai's dad). Plus Kai manifests what seems to be his dad's personality when he's in danger.”

“So much tears! I really don't want this to end, but I knew it was too good to be true. Though, the way the way the manga ended felt like a new beginning. Hanae made a promise/vow to Itsuki that he will return, no matter how long it takes, so he hopes Itsuki will wait for him. Also, that picture of Sakae and Aoi on the counter makes me hope that Hanae and his family (plus Sakae in heaven) has peace now. I felt like crying more. Thank you for everything and I hope to see you again!”

“ok rip Abeno's past... rip yellow eyes... rip this cliffhanger ending...“

“Suddenly I see that anon ask about OPs and EDs and partings & separations in a new light... darn. (╯°Д °)╯╧╧”

Fittingly enough, Sensei mentioned in the fanbook that Mononokean has always been a story about meetings and partings too, but still...! More...!!!

“I think this ending is very fitting. Ashiya was never truly part of the youkai world, he was always taking one step in only to step out soon after, and going back and forth between loving youkai and being afraid of them. Ashiya's state of employment has always had a "temporary" feeling to it, including, for example, the fact that he never changed his clothes, and his Mononokean-crest clothes were "borrowed". UItimately, Ashiya didn't seem like he could dedicate his life to youkai, unlike Abeno. (continuing from my previous ask about "Ashiya not being part of the youkai world") It wasn't only Ashiya's feelings on the matter that kept him away from the world of youkai. Abeno contributed greatly to this, as he constantly tried to keep Ashiya away from the Underworld, from danger, from knowing too much, and from youkai themselves, even though Ashiya was technically his employee. If Abeno had tried, even a little, to pull Ashiya into his world, Ashiya would have responded to him, I'm sure. (another "Ashiya not being part of the youkai world" ask) The fact Abeno actively blocked Ashiya from his world was the greatest reason why Ashiya didn't feel like he belonged there. But he still felt connected to Abeno, at least. Rather than dedicate his life to youkai, Ashiya seemed like he might dedicate it to Abeno. Yet this feeling was also met with a wall. By the time Abeno realized how precious it was, having someone who saw the same things as him by his side, it was already too late. (last ask in the series "Ashiya not being part of the youkai world") Ironically, the Mononokean and most other youkai were more open and willing to welcome Ashiya into their world. Still, if and when Ashiya can see youkai again, I hope Abeno will have realized the opportunity he'd wasted. When these two reunite, I hope Abeno won't push Ashiya away again. That's all. I wanted to share these thoughts with you. Please let me know your opinion on the matter. Thank you for reading! :)”

I think you’re right on point with the themes you’ve pointed out and I believe that’s what Sensei was going for too, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s terribly lonely for them to be separated from each other. ___(:3 At least we’re left with a (high) possibility of them getting back together (heh) and even moreso with the fanbook extra content too, so here’s to their continued adventures.

“I am not sure if you are familiar with this anime/manga/light novel series “No. 6” because the end of the Mononokean manga series appears similar to the end of the former in terms of the bond between the two male leads if you get what I mean.”

I know of it and it’s something I’ve always meant to get around to watching, but I have not seen it yet!

“Nooo, I can't believe it's over! 😭 But you know, ever since FNM's ending was announced, I've been looking for something to fill the void this precious story would inevitably leave in my heart, and then someone said "Watch Natsume Yuujinchou, the themes are similar and it's heartwarming". So I started it and, oh boy, I've been screaming at every episode because I'm not used to people openly showing their affection! 😂 So much hugging, hand-holding, head-patting... I'm melting!! (send help pls)”

“Hello Spring! We've reached the end of this wonderful journey, it seems. It's time for a new start. Thank you so much for everything you've done for this fandom, it wouldn't have been the same without you! Seriously, thank you, from the bottom of my heart! 😌 (PS: I forgot to mention, I opened this blog on my old old laptop, with its 1280x720 resolution, and the "ON YOUR OWN, BUT NOT ALONE" strip was right there covering Ashiya's and Abeno's faces, I had such a good laugh! I'm sorry I laughed!!)”

“This ending was really beautiful and yet sad. The promise made me hope but.. it's still so angst that maybe it will take years to hanae be able to see yokais again. I wonder if wazawa-sensei is okay, like, usually when a manga is ending they advertise previously, but the news was so suddenly that made me worry about sensei's health status. I also don't think that the publisher canceled the manga. So, I still don't know if this sudden ending was planned or not.”

Haha when I first made that tumblr theme, I kind of liked the effect that the strip had in covering Ashiya and Abeno’s faces somehow, but it always moves around depending on resolution lol.

In the afterword of the last volume and the fanbook, Sensei touched lightly on their various reasons for ending the manga (which I plan to cover eventually... when I have time...) and while I don’t think we’ll ever know fully, I got the impression that sensei personally seems in good health and even expressed that they would like to make another manga in the future, so as readers and fans we don’t need to worry too much.

“The manga ended well but we are left with unanswered questions : What is Abeno's past ? / Are golden eyes and hair special ? / What about Aoi's face ? / What really happened the day Aoi came back injured ? At this time she wasn't infected but Sakae died trying to save her (something is wrong with the plot) ?! / What about Fuzzy gender and his "human form" ?”

I will just say we got answers to some of those questions in the fanbook, and some we did not. :Y Please hold on for fanbook info!

Hey there. I’ve just read through the last chapter of the Mononokean. What a story. There are still a few questions that left me wondering: (1) What is the origin of the Mononokean itself?, (2) What is the origin of the Influence that flows within specific characters of the story?, (3) If Aoi was able to provide young Ashiya with a part of Sakae’s “Influence,” could it be done again?, & (4) If Ashiya could still see Fuzzy, what do you think this means for his potential abilities?

1. We were told in the first fanbook that the Mononokean was originally a well-loved tea ceremony room, and as we know in the Mononokean universe (also generally a concept in Japanese culture/religion, you can looked up the term “tsukumogami”), things that are used/loved sometimes end up gaining a sentience of their own, and if I remember right that’s how the Mononokean came to be too. (it’s been a while since I’ve reread the first fanbook so if I’m wrong please do correct me). As for any other specifics, we only know that Aoi and Abeno have been the first and second masters respectively, I’m pretty sure.

2. This was answered in the fanbook, which I’d like to summarize eventually! But Influence seems to be a natural power that develops in babies who have been in close contact with yokai before they were born, and golden hair and eyes are also a sign of that.

3. The partial Sakae Influence (lol wording) that Aoi gave to Ashiya as a baby was what Ashiya returned to Aoi to save them. I suppose since they’ve already done it before it’s technically possible, but that’d defeat the whole purpose of what they tried to do already haha.

4. I think it’s as Abeno theorizes, that Ashiya always did have a bit of ability to sense yokai on his own as well!

“I was looking for more FnM content and found out about your fanfictions on Ao3, so I read them all and oh my Lord! They were *so* good!! And I was very surprised and very glad to find out you ship Ashiya x Abeno, I'm especially happy because you ship them in that order, since I was so sure everybody would be shipping them in reverse order! Thank you so much for sharing your works!! (≧▽≦) ♡”

Thank you for your kind comments, I’m always so happy to hear someone loves my fic! I do love writing them even though I haven’t done it for a while and I have so many ideas and WIPs that I’ve still never gotten around to completely, but I swear I will do them someday... While I do think the reverse order is more popular in general, there’s a decent AshiItsu (the Japanese term for the ship haha) fandom thriving on Twitter!

Again thank you so much everyone! Look forward to fanbook info I’d like to get around to posting about soon!

#fukigen na mononokean #the morose mononokean #ask

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felikatze · 3 years

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Broken Contract Transcripts: E Alev

[Screenshots]

[Masterpost]

Alev: Oh, you’re here.

Lord: I’m sorry I’m late, Alev.

Alev: Don’t worry. Canceled contracts are a part of everyday life for a mercenary.

Lord: No, I wasn’t trying to cancel the contract. It’s embarrassing to say, but I came to try and renew the contract.

Alev: Is that so...? The band of mercenaries I lead, the Emerald Lions, has a rule. “Check all conditions of a contract thouroughly and completely before signing.”

Lord: I’ve heard that before.

Alev: Mercenaries don’t work for charity.We make a living selling our services as fighters, and we’re sent into dangerous situations almost constantly. Knowing the ins and outs of a contract can make the difference between life and death for us.

Alev: We consider a contract’s terms to be absolute; they are the law by which we must abide. If the terms are not in line with our standards, we don’t take the contract in the first place.

Alev: However, after agreeing to a contract we’ve double- and triple-checked, we keep our end of the deal no matter what.

Lord: You said before that’s the mercenary’s code, right?

Alev: Yes. My contract with you was the same. You may remember Article 1, Clause 6. “Should the contract be broken on account of Avillon’s negligence, a payment of crystals may be offered to renew said contract.”

Lord: I remember, and I will gladly pay that price right now.

Alev: If I may be honest, the fee is not a big issue. What I wanted to point out is that you can break this contract at any time on even the smallest whim.

Lord: ...

Alev: And yet, despite the terms of the contract being highly irrational, the Emerald Lions and I decided to accept it anyway.

Lord: Why was that?

Alev: Finding a good employer makes life much easier for mercenaries. I believed your proposal was a rare opportunity that may never come again.

Lord: Rare enough that you would even accept a few irrational terms...

Alev: Yes. We could see Avillon’s- and your- hidden potential. And on a personal note, I have never had an employer such as yourself.

Alev: However, when two parties exchange pledges, it isn’t uncommon for one side to be more committed. If you don’t think we are worth your time, maybe it’s the best to end the contract right now.

Lord: Err, that’s not...

Alev: Your contract was very appealing to us, to the point where we rejected all other offers we received. And because of that, my fellow mercenaries and I take your action or inaction very seriously... is what I’ve been trying to say.

Lord: ...I’m not trying to purchase your services for money here. I definitely don’t mean to come off as arrogant, nor do I want us to have the relationship of an employer and employee.

Lord: I want to build a relationship of trust with you and your mercenaries. I want to become a leader to you that can protect you from outside dangers. And I want you to become a knight, an advisor, and a friend to me.

Alev: ... I’ve never thought our relationship could develop in that way.

Lord: ...

Alev: Perhaps I should start thinking of you like a mercenary leader...

Lord: I suppose there are some similarities... Regardless, it is my fault the contract was breached. Do you think you could give me another chance? I understand better now how you view contracts. I promise not to disappoint you or the Emerald Lions again.

Alev: ...It feels strange for your [sic] to put yourself in a position of vulnerability. You’re the monarch of a nation, and a great victor in battle.

Lord: I was speaking to you person to person.

Alev: Oh... Then you needn’t worry. I have great faith that our contract will be fulfilled.

Lord: Thank you, Alev.

Alev: They’re definitely not a normal monarch...

#broken contract dialogue #lord of heroes #finally putting these up lmao. had it forever #links to be added i changed my url i'm making a new masterpost #cat time. yeah #also lord flirting again #e alev my beloved #my main guardian <3

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cancerbiophd · 4 years

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How I landed an industry job straight out of my life sciences PhD, without doing a post-doc

In less than 7 weeks I’ll be defending my dissertation as a final step in my PhD in Cancer Biology, and yesterday I accepted a Scientist position at a local biotechnology company. And best part: I didn’t have to do the dreaded post-doc first! Which is pretty rare for our field (but I hope it’ll be more and more common for PhD’s going into industry).

I promised I would talk about the process here, and I hope that anyone who’s aiming for the same path can walk away with some tips or at least with a familiarity of the process.

The main points I want to get across:

Network network network. You can probably just stop reading here, because this job came about all through networking. I was basically head-hunted--someone in my network (a program alumnus) contacted me on LinkedIn to ask if I wanted to apply for a position on the team she directs. So set up your LinkedIn account, keep it up to date, and use it to actively network. At the very least you should connect with the alumni in your program as you all have something in common already, and since they’re out and about in the field they would be great resources for informational interviews and job referrals.

My expertise and career goals matched the position. No brainer, of course. Even if I wasn’t contacted by the company, I would only be applying to companies I qualified for (so companies dealing with cancer since I’m my PhD is in Cancer Bio). My lab mate, for example, was finishing up his PhD in Nutritional Sciences but was applying to cancer companies with no result, because it just wasn’t the candidate those companies were looking for. My expertise was also probably what got that director’s attention in the first place and the reason she reached out. She was basically willing to wait 7 months for me (from job posting to my final start-date) because I was her ideal candidate, and not just based off my expertise alone, but our personalities matched too. She told me “we communicate well” aka our work personalities match. I know you can’t change who you are obviously, but getting along with your manager goes a long way.

That being said, employers/PIs are flexible with start dates for PhD candidates. I applied to this position 6 months before I had my defense date set and when I only knew a ballpark of “sometime in the summer”. And then during my interview process I had to keep pushing that potential start-date back and back and back. But the company understood this. So as a PhD candidate you could start applying 6 months before your expected end-date (even if it’s still a moving target), or even months earlier for post-docs (which are much more flexible than industry positions). In general, you should start looking 1 year before your finish date to see what’s out there.

It was also good luck/timing. If I had graduated earlier than the job posting, then I never would’ve had this opportunity. I also only added her to my LinkedIn network because I went to a lunch seminar where she gave a talk about working in industry. So small things that ultimately made a huge difference. Some you can’t control, but some (like going to that lunch) are definitely opportunities to seize.

I was low “flight risk”. Companies are always afraid their employees will leave the company/city for greener pastures, and that’s more common in “less popular” places to live, like the southwest desert where I’m located. But I’m from here, my grad school is here, my family’s here--so the company is making the assumption I’m not going to just up and go any time soon. You obviously can’t control where your family chooses to settle down, but you may be able to strategically choose your grad school based off of its proximity to potential companies.

And lastly, in my experience, PhD’s with no post-doc in biotech industry should expect an annual salary somewhere between $75-95k (depending on the company and cost of living), with benefits.

Ok, my full story under cut if you’d like to know more about the process I went through:

It all started when a program alumnus (or alumna, if you’re picky about your latin) named RF talked at a lunch seminar to students in my program in Feb 2019. I was really interested in her company and knew she would be a great network to have, so I emailed her later to thank her, and then added her on LinkedIn.

Fast forward to January of this year (2020) when RF messaged me on LinkedIn out of the blue asking me how close I was to graduating and if I would be interested in a position at her company. I think she wanted someone asap (so not me, I thought), but we talked more about my project, and she said she’d keep in touch. In February, she messaged me again saying a position opened up on her team and she wanted to see if I would like to apply. I said heck yes (or the more formal version), and sent in my application, with the expectation that I would be defending sometime in the summer. I also put her as my job referral and messaged her afterwards to let her know my application went through (with the hopes that maybe she could fast-track it through HR, which I think she did).

In the meantime, I messaged (also on LinkedIn) another program alumnus I knew (our time overlapped a few years) who currently works with RF and we chatted on the phone about what he does at work, how he likes it there, etc. Basically an informational interview (and also to catch up as colleagues). I was also hoping he’d put in a good word for me with RF and can attest I’m a decent human being and all that.

2 weeks later, I had a phone interview with RF, and I was super nervous going into it. I even practiced pages and pages of answers of common interview questions for a week straight. But to my surprise she opened the call with “I already know a lot about you from your CV, LinkedIn profile, and also your PhD training because we’re from the same program, so this is your chance to ask me questions!” And I was like, uhhhh awesome! The only thing she wanted to know about me was when I could start, and at that moment in time I was gunning for a July/Aug defense date.

(I also emailed her and HR afterwards to ask them whether they could match my salary expectation, which I had researched well beforehand for what was common in the field for my position and experience, and they said they could.)

We then set up the next round of interviews for April with a colleague of RF’s who used to be in the same team but now directs her own, and RF’s boss (these would have normally been on-site, but I did them over the phone bc Covid). I again messaged my friend at the company asking if he had any tips.

And then disaster struck! The company’s HR called me a week before those scheduled interviews to tell me the company had ordered a hiring freeze due to Covid and the effect it was having on the economy. Absolute bummer :( :( :(

So I then applied for a few more positions here and there, including some post-docs (which I really didn’t want to do). I got 2 rounds of interviews for a Scientist position at another local company, and as of today I still haven’t heard anything from them. oh well.

Then in June I finally heard back from RF’s company saying the hiring freeze has been lifted and whether I’m still interested? Uh, heck yes! So we continued with those 2 phone interviews I had originally scheduled back in April. They both went really well. But I still continued to apply to other positions in the meantime because I wanted to have as many options as I could.

Then 2 weeks ago (July 7) I got THE call: they wanted to offer me the position! :D

Only problem was, we needed to settle on a start-date. They of course wanted me to start like, yesterday, but my PI wanted to push back my original defense date of Aug 28 one more week to Sept 4, and also wanted me to focus on any dissertation edits for 2 weeks after that. So my earliest start-date would be Sept 21. If you remember, my defense date shifted from “sometime in the summer” to “July/August” to now September, so I was really worried the company wouldn’t accept this. I nervously waited 2 weeks for someone to call me back, and in my head I kept thinking, “I blew it I blew it”. I even sent in a job application to another company in that time.

But RF finally called me and said hey, no problem, we can do that! She told me she was willing to wait because I really was her perfect candidate (I had all the experience she wanted, and she said we communicated well aka our work-personalities matched). She had also just recently hired another graduate from our program, who is also a friend of mine, so she knew we would all mesh together very nicely.

And that’s the story folks! I’ll be starting the position remotely until it’s safe to return to the building again. They’re also working with my husband to see if he’s a good candidate for some of their other open positions (we’re both in the biotech field). We’re both super excited about this new chapter in our lives.

All this because I attended the lunch seminar RF talked at all last year and then added her on LinkedIn. When people talk about opportunities lurking behind every corner, they really did mean that.

#job advice #gradblr #sciblr #m

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duskodair · 3 years

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further Noel lore, by popular demand (with the old bc why not)

The one constant in her life has always been him. One of them was born first, but they're not sure which. Names don't stick to them. Dozens of monikers have come and passed them by. They barely use names for one another, so it doesn't matter. They know vaguely which order the children they might have once been were born and named, but neither of them actually know to which of them each name belongs.

They come to the orphanage as a pair of red headed infants, identical and inseparable. Among the other children, they are easily lost in the muddle. They grow up holding hands and answer to both names. They come to answer to others as well, as staff members forget and rename them from the pool of other children.

The orphanage is a loveless place. They learn of the distant love of a God who has forsaken them from nuns who have no time for them. They learn to walk holding hands and make their own language to whisper the secrets they learn from watching places that the convent do not want them to see.

The nuns can't keep the right names pinned to the right child and by the time they leave the orphanage, their papers are muddled and merged, inseparable in their scarcity. At fourteen, they do honest work for a few months, pulling in a pitiful wage between them. They answer to the names that the nuns told them they were given as decide that it's not for them.

Knowing their letters, at least, gets them into interesting places. Gossip slips by them. They come home with stories and whispers of crimes committed in distant towns. There's nothing truly behind it, but it intrigues them.

They leave the town they were raised in with the collection money for the convent's charity children. They never saw any of it whilst they were there, so they reckon it's theirs to take.

They do it sensible, though, no grand heist and sudden exit. One day two nobodies walk the streets and the next they are gone, notice properly given and a forwarding address passed along to those it may concern. Perhaps they go where they say they are going, perhaps they do not. The convent only realises the theft far later than it could be solved. And by that point, they are dust on the plains.

'New town, new names' is their policy. It gives them something to do on their journeys. Their childhood gives them a wealth of options as they work their way through the Good Book. She chars for a family as Leah, subtly learning to mimic the habits of those born into money as she beats dust out of the curtains. As Mary she is a gentle lady, down on her luck, willing to watch the children.

She never does a con without him. It starts with petty theft, enough to tide them over. But they grow confident as the years pass, and still the sheriffs fail to put out a bounty for names they've left behind.

Both of them claim to do the most work in their enterprise. She scoffs and says he's far too distracted by pretty stable boys and saloon lasses for his case to be true. He argues that she's too busy staring at her own reflection in things to possibly be doing the most work.

She kicks him, out of principle, before grinning. They're nearly done with this town. Regretfully, they're about to have a family emergency and the gentle seamstress' assistant and the errand boy will have to leave. It will be a while before anybody notices that old Mr McCoy hasn't been seen in a while. Well, perhaps the young ladies he used to shout at might notice, but the twins don't think they'll miss him.

Noel swings out her legs one last time before depositing them in Jonah's lap. She leans back as she considers the best way for Miss Miranda DuVal to break her incoming family crisis to her employer to potentially receive offerings of sympathy. In the last town she'd received a lovely pair of hand me down boots. She's hoping to do much better here, and well, there's some lovely stuff in the Atkinsons' unpaid tab.

The breeze picks up a little. Nothing like a peaceful walk and a casual picnic to enjoy their last day in this town. She looks away from the disappointing straggle of houses that make up the town, towards her brother. He's lying down in the prairie grass, staring up at the passing clouds. She thinks he's probably thinking about a barmaid again. He's got that look on his face.

She rips up a bit of grass and tosses it at him, 'keep your raunchy thoughts off your face. I don't want to know'

He tosses the grass back at her, 'I can do what I please. It's my own bleedin face'

With that, he rises, pushing her legs from his lap.

'Now come along, sister dearest, I'm sure we are missed. I must see if Old Man Thomas needs any more of those crates lifting, and I'm sure you have embroidery to do'

She lets him read her disdain before rising and schooling her features into the amiable Miss DuVal. 'Of course, brother, shall we go, then?'

She takes his arm and they head back to finish the performance before the appointed hour of departure. They make their arrangements and say their goodbyes. Jonah receives his kisses and Noel her tea gown.

On the road they pick new names, write a new story. When she stumbles in a gopher hole, he christens her Grace. She makes a hand gesture that the nuns certainly would not have approved of and accepts the name.

Town after town they pass through, weaving their way West, across the country. Their cons become bigger and grander and their budget grows.

For all their griping, they make an excellent team, she thinks, as he combs out her hair for her next performance. Their plan is to land a quiet jackpot in the town of Danser. It's been in their sights for a while, a little passing place, irrelevant. Perfect.

They have a few weeks to go before they arrive, appearances to make along the road. They call themselves Underwood for the branch that Jonah stumbles into as he stumbles around their camp after dark. They turn the branch into a lumber business and laud their wealth to one another.

Noel laughs into the fire as she weaves stories of their loving Papa, whose only desire in life is to see his daughter married off to a reputable man. Jonah grins as he fleshes out the tragedy of their gentle mother, taken too soon.

At least, Noel thinks, she won't have to wear the fashion of a widow too long, as Jonah will, of course, have to return her to the loving safety of her father, if there is nobody left in Danser to provide. She checks the Derringer strapped to her thigh and consigns her new life story to memory. Yes, she thinks, Noel will work as a name for a while.

______

Danser is quiet the day the Underwoods ride into town. On the surface, they bring little change, just a business deal and a wife for the wealthy Mr Tobias Lloyd. Noel rides into town as a bartering token for her family's lumber business, a symbol of an alliance sealed.

Jonah Underwood brings her into town, red hair tousled in the wind as the twins drive, laughing, down the dust scattered road. He's going to stay in Danser as she gets settled.

He'll probably stay longer than expected, loath to leave her. They've never been more than a week apart throughout their short lives. Where she goes, he follows, but this time, he cannot.

Noel is prepared, she thinks, for a husband. Her trunk is packed with all her worldly possessions and the wood of the carriage is steady under her hands.

The town spreads before her, barely a stopping point out from the city. Home, it seems, now. She's a long way from Tennessee. She's a long way from their smaller cons. Jonah meets her eyes. They're ready.

Her fingers dust over the derringer that she carries strapped to her thigh. She smiles. The plan is simple. She can do it. Jonah guides the horses forward into town, nodding to the old man on his stoop outside the general store, before heading to the Emerald Hotel.

She holds her head high as Jonah makes arrangements. The role is easy, she smiles and nods and watches. Noel is quiet and demure, but ever watchful, cataloguing her new neighbours. She plays naive, batting doe eyes at passers by, luring people in to speak with them.

They spend a day getting settled, researching, making appearances. They go to church, make nice. They start tabs and pay them off, respectable like, with the money of dead men. They find out about Mr Lloyd. He's wealthy and removed, just their type. His employees dislike him, after a few drinks, and when Jonah reports back, so does she.

She is all smiles, however, when Jonah presents her with promises of lumber money. She twirls the loose curls that soften her cheeks around a finger, and in that motion, she has him. Soon the hair around her finger becomes a ring and she becomes a wife.

Tobias Lloyd is, fundamentally, a disappointing husband. Everything he tries to teach her, she already knows, and quite frankly, he's barely competent. He tries to run her in circles but his fall short of the ones she's running around him.

Jonah rides between Danser and the city, keeping the financial side of the con running as Noel pushes her hands into the running of the household. She takes control, bringing home arsenic for cleaning and for rats.

She makes appearances with her husband in the Emerald Hotel, a doting wife out for coffee. She wears fine gowns and resists gossip, staying upstanding, but never cold. She likes to think that she's making her mark in the town, becoming known. If she is, she's doing her job properly, settling her character witnesses.

Everything is going perfectly until it isn't. Jonah slips. Noel doesn't even discover how until it is too late and the gunfight is lost and Jonah is bleeding out in her arms, his tab with God unsettled and their victory bleeding away.

She buries him in the churchyard, demure and sweet, watching the stone with the wrong name mark her brother's place. Later, she rides out and screams, hands still stained red with his blood. She remembers his unsettled tab and sets out to match it, so that one day she can join him once more.

She returns to town and puts on her gloves. Tobias loves her, she is the perfect wife, so attentive to his bouts of illness and so concerned.

Noel forms the perfect cover, she plays her part perfectly. With a little sacrifice, she covers for Jonah's slip. She helps collect funds for the new church floor, embroidering kerchiefs with dainty patterns for the pastor to sell. The new pastor admires her faith, he smiles and says one day she'll see heaven. She does her best to ensure that won't be so.

Tobias grows sicker and sicker and Noel worries more and more. At least, in public. Old Man German at the store grows tired of her asking after medicine. There is never any coming in.

Calling for the Doc is a risk, but a necessary one. Fortunately, it pays off, he patiently assures her that he's not a doctor and he cannot cure her husband. He's the best Danser has, however, and all her husband will see. She grows fond of him on his visits, another respectable alibi and connection for when she is alone.

She forges ties and prepares for widowhood. She ties her hair up neat and slips into the saloon instead of the hotel on a Friday afternoon, seeking the Doc, looking to keep herself in his mind. She's going to need a new husband soon, anyway, and it's always a good idea to plan ahead.

#chill to reblog #a town called danser #noel #jonah

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hteragram-x · 4 years

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LOCEIT writing prompts

Recently I wrote a bunch of Locei HCs. You can find them [HERE]. And here’s the first part of writing prompts I promised. (Sorry for making them so long. I’m incapable of making my thoughts brief and concise.) Most of them are for Human AUs.

---

Logan is a well known author and scientist who works mostly on developing cures for the most dangerous diseases. Janus is send by a rival company to steal some of Logan’s research by gaining his trust and observing his methods from up close. Scenario 1: Logan immediately notices that this new guy is very suspicious, but he lets him stay to see, how the situation develops, because he has no substantial proof of any wrongdoing. Until… Scenario 2: Logan is entirely oblivious and soon blinded even more by his developing feelings, but Janus is affected by that too and eventually reveals the truth himself ditching his old employer in the process.

Janus is a politician who faces a lot of harsh criticism for the way he looks, for being gay, for being snarky etc. He hires Logan to be his manager and to help him cope with the unfair media coverage (also by carefully crafting his image). Somehow they change places, because it turns out Logan is a better politician than PR employee, while Janus feels better and is more effective by controlling the events from behind the stage.

Remus and Roman constantly try to find Janus a date, but all the candidates fail to impress him. Most of them are not too smart or (even worse) think they are smarter than him. Some are not sophisticated enough for his liking. Others try way too hard to impress him when it’s clear they are pretending. Janus went on a blind date with Logan only because he lost a bet and he’s immediately sure that this is going to be a disaster. The guy is an arrogant smartass with no tact whatsoever and after five minutes he tells Janus: “You look like you don’t want to be here. Cool. I dislike you too.” Janus’ pride doesn’t allow him to go home, so he insists on staying and having fun no matter what. They somehow manage to go from mild hatred to actual warm feeling in just a few hours.

Janus is the Creativitwins single father and one day they escape in the park. After half an hour of panicking he finds both of his boys sitting with a guy who is almost losing his mind trying to communicate with these two chaotic five-year-olds and to get any information about their parents.

Continuing with the single-dad-Janus theme... he hires Logan to be a tutor for his twins and a year later he has to somehow explain to them that their private teacher is now their new dad.

Logan buys a vintage car not knowing that it’s occupied by a very frustrated ghost of Janus who died in it in an accident. He would prefer to be stuck in some cool castle or just leave this miserable Earth, so he ruins Logan’s days for fun by being a petty apparition. Finally he discovers he can communicate with the new owner by using the radio and nearly causes another car crash when he speaks for the first time.

Logan and Janus have been friends for twenty years. Their friendship started on a playground when Janus lied to Logan about having access to a magical cave which turned out to be just a small hole under a fallen tree with a few mushrooms inside. Now they sit together in Logan’s new flat, unpacking his things and reminiscing about all the times when Janus lied to Logan changing their friendship in both good and bad ways. There were some lies that Logan is learning about just now which eventually leads to the very emotional confessions and revealing a lie of omission Logan was keeping for years himself.

Janus is a very untrustworthy owner of the shop full of antiques and old furniture. Some of these items are definitely cursed and he sells them knowing full well about the potentially dreadful side effects of having them. This semi-illegal business continues until he meets a very no-nonsense man who doesn’t believe in any of his bullshit. He gives Janus a chance to turn his life around or he will expose his crimes which leads to a lot of arguments and frustration on both sides. What Janus doesn’t know (and cannot know) is that Logan has a curse on himself and Janus’ decision will affect Logan’s entire existence from now on.

Logan and Janus are on two sides of a lawsuit, because they both wrote a nearly identical book and published it on almost the same day. It turns out that there was some unexpected force making them share thoughts and come up with the same idea despite living 500km apart and never having met before. (It can be about soulmates or not.)

And one for canonverse: when Logan is tired Janus often takes his place and they both have rehearsals where they try to make Janus an expert in playing a role of his friend. One day, when they meet to practise, Logan tries to play Janus and it turns out the way he envisions him is a little bit different than what Janus expected. Not that he complains.

...

That’s all for now, however, I’ll probably write more. If you use any of them feel free to tag me. I’ll gladly read it :D. Some of them may be a little weird, but I didn’t want to use only the most common tropes that appear in the stories about them.

Also [HERE]’s a bunch of writing prompts about Cretivitwins.

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psychologyserviceannoucement · 3 years

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How do I get Therapy?

Congratulations on deciding to look into treatment. I know that can be a difficult decision to make, but you’re definitely doing the right thing. That being said, once that first step is out of the way, it can certainly be hard to know what to do next. Now that you’re ready to pursue treatment, how do you actually get it?

I will be speaking mainly from an American perspective as that is the country I am familiar with. Other countries are likely to have slight differences in how their healthcare systems work, but some of the larger ideas conveyed here should still be applicable to most. In general, mental health professionals are considered healthcare providers, the same as any other doctor. As such, they are available through many of the same means. If you’ve had to find yourself any kind of medical specialist before, this would be a similar process. Inversely, if you haven’t done so before, you can use these methods to find that kind of doctor as well.

Before we start looking around for services, it is worth clarifying what exactly you are looking for. Individual talk therapy is the most commonly known kind of mental health treatment, but there are many others. If you haven’t considered other options before, you can look at our guide here to learn more about them. That being said, you are not expected to know automatically what is best for you. If you’re not sure, then it’s best to start with an individual therapist and they can advise from there. If you do have something else in mind, make sure to specify where you need to in order to avoid being sent to providers that do not have the service you’re looking for.

Insurance

Health insurance is a service that theoretically assists with the cost of treatment. In reality, it doesn’t tend to be as helpful as it really should, but the validity of health insurance policies is a discussion for another day. If you have an insurance policy and would like to use it to cover your mental health treatment, you’ll want to make sure the provider you seek services from is in network with your insurance company. Being in network with an insurance company means that your insurance policy’s coverages will apply to that provider, whatever those coverages may be. Some insurance policies will also cover services gotten from out-of-network providers, but to a lesser extent. The easiest way to find providers that your insurance might cover, is simply to ask your insurance. Most companies have a referral line you can call or an online provider finder. The information might be listed on your insurance card or you can look it up online. Although, beware that these databases tend to over-tag their providers so you might get a lot of places that don’t offer what you’re looking for.

Doctor’s Office

Another way to find a provider is to ask another provider. General health practices will usually have a good amount of referrals to specialists since they help people with a wide range of problems. Moreover, your physician may be more familiar with the people they refer to on a professional level and recommend them for having good experiences working with them before. They may go so far as to send a referral packet and help you coordinate care.

Hospitals and other Large Facilities

Hospitals, rehabs, psychiatric hospitals, and other notable large treatment centers typically house a variety of professionals that work in all sorts of different fields. You can call them or look online to see if they have any mental health professionals. If so, ask if they are open to the public or reserved just for hospital patients and how you can contact them.

School

A majority of academic institutions from elementary schools up to universities have some sort of counseling office. Typically there will be a social worker and/or a psychologist. If you’re not familiar with your school’s resources you might be able to find more information online or ask a staff member about it. Usually each student is allowed a few free sessions to use at their discretion. After that point, once they understand the issue, they will likely refer you out to a more long-term provider. Some may even continue to case manage and assist you until they’ve ensured that you receive care.

Your job

If you work in a position that offers any kind of benefits, that may include mental health resources. You can talk to your boss (if you are comfortable with it) or your HR department about that possibility. Mental health conditions are legally considered health conditions like any other, so you cannot be fired simply for being sick. You can be fired for the effects your sickness may have on your job, such as showing up late, but many employers are very supportive and would prefer you get help than fire you. That being said, you also have a legal right to privacy, so you do not have to specify what you are receiving treatment for if you do not want to. Usually what will happen is that they will pair you up with an Employee Assistance Program (EAP), a third party company that will give you a case manager to work with you and help you to find a provider. You may even get your first few sessions free.

Online Research

The internet has plenty of information on it. I don’t have to tell you how to look things up. In addition to typical search engines, there are a variety of websites that operate provider finders. Moreover, there are some providers that are only accessible online such as those who operate digitally instead of in-person.

After you’ve collected a good bunch of potential providers you can look into them in more detail and see if they’re a good fit. Do they offer the service you’re looking for? Are they accepting new patients? Is the cost covered/manageable? Do your schedules align? Are you able to get to and from your appointments? Are they of the demographic that you are looking for? And so on. Researching providers will take a good amount of time and it will probably end up knocking out a lot of potentials for one reason or another. While it’s always good to know what you want, keep in mind that you may not find a perfect provider who fits all the criteria you have in mind. There are only so many providers in one area, so you might have to make concessions and go back through your list a second time.

Once you find someone that works, it should be as simple as calling them up and scheduling an appointment. Unfortunately though, it’s not usually quite as easy. I’m not going to mince words. The process of getting signed up with a provider is going to be a huge pain in the ass. And that doesn’t mean it’s not going to get done. I’m sure if you’re looking into treatment, you’ve already been through a lot. It’s probably better that you get into treatment sooner as opposed to later. Adding additional steps isn’t making the process easier, especially if it was already difficult to start. I’m sorry that things are going to be a bit difficult, but you still can and should and will get treatment, one way or another. The nature of scheduling an appointment with a new doctor is just that it’s going to take a lot of coordination and a lot of phone calls. There’s a lot to be said about whether that should be the case or not, but for the most part, it can’t be avoided. Things are going to happen. Problems are going to pop up. Places might be scheduled out for a long time in the future. Appointments might get cancelled or rescheduled. You might be asked for referrals or medical records that will take time to get. You might have to corral your insurance into doing what it’s supposed to. The first person you talk to might be a bad fit and send you back to the drawing board. I don’t know what it will be for you, but it will be something. So just understand and internalize that this will be a process and that it won’t get done immediately. If you have people in your life who want to support you, this might be the part to let them help with (just mind the confidentiality laws as you do). It’s ok to get frustrated and upset. You can take breaks or settle if you need, but make sure that you keep moving forward. Don’t give up on it. Even if it’s hard at times, you’re doing the right thing and it will be worth it in the end, I promise.

For more information on mental health topics, check out our Index

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i-will-physically-fight-you · 4 years

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The Icing On the Cake Part 2

Title: A Sweet Reprise

Summary: Maybe things aren’t as hopeless as Virgil has first presumed.

Pairings: platonic moxiety (background platonic analogical)

Word-Count: 764

Warnings: anxiety, self-deprecation, I think that’s it?? it ends happy.

Part 1

This is a part of my Follower Milestone Celebration, requested by @lonelyanxiousbean. This is a conclusion of a ficlet I wrote a year ago. Tbh, I’ve always meant to do a follow-up. The original fic was a bit of a ventfic and now that I’m where I am at today, in a job I’m pretty happy to have, I finally feel comfortable writing a happy conclusion to this :)

“Hiya, this is Patton from Patty-Cakes! I’m calling in regards to the online application you sent in over a week ago. If you’re still interested, feel free to come in for an interview anytime Monday through Thursday, alright? Ok, bye, I hope your day’s going well either way!”

The words from the voicemail rang in Virgil’s mind. Again and again on an endless loop as his sneakers took him to the front steps of Patty-Cakes. The owner Patton had called him yesterday. He couldn’t believe it. The employer being the one to call him first? And not the other way around?

With that disbelief came a different concoction of fears and trepidations. He’d already showed his face. How could he explain not introducing himself? That he was too chicken to do it? Yeah, that’d go over well to a potential employer. He’d probably reject him right then and there.

“I think you may be jumping to a conclusion,” Logan told him over the phone, “You do not know if Patton will react that way. He might be understanding of how nerve-inducing job hunting is.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then you accept it and move onto the next potential job opportunity.” Logan responded, saying so matter-of-factly. Virgil wished he’d possessed even just an ounce of Logan’s cool, calm rationality. In theory, he understood Logan’s words. But in practice, it was much easier to fall into the pitfalls of anxiety.

Logan couldn’t come with him today. He was not likely to be available until Thursday. Virgil couldn’t put it off until then. Not when the dread and doubts inside of him would continue to fester and grow to gigantic proportions. He had to come in today. He needed to know for certain the outcome of this job interview.

A cute little bell jingled as he pulled open the door. There was an employee helping out a customer with a cake order. No Patton in sight. Okay, okay, okay cool. He stuck his hands in his jean pockets, scanning the cake displays listlessly. He’d just wait to tell the employee why he was here. This was fine.

He fought the itch to hide behind his phone screen. Worse yet, just walking out of the store and never showing his face ever again. The door behind the counter swung open but Virgil was hardly paying attention. He stared at a frog-themed birthday cake display. Have A Hopping Good Birthday!

“Oh hi!”

Virgil’s head jerked up, meeting the crinkly blue eyes of one Patton Baker. “You came in yesterday, right? Was the cake okay? Was it too your sweetisfaction?”

Whoa, okay, way too many questions. It takes his mind a second to process it all, including the pun at the end. He let out a startled laugh.

“Um, yeah, the cake was good,” Virgil said. He had it for breakfast, figuring it was just as bad consuming donuts. “But uh, I came for a different reason…”

He trailed off, his throat feeling incredibly dry as if he swallowed a sack of flour. Patton gave a small nod, a gentle smile gracing his features. He didn’t seem annoyed, but Virgil couldn’t tell if again, that was just an act. Surely he was groaning internally that Virgil, a frustratingly incoherent customer, had showed up again.

“My name is—I’m Virgil, I’m here about the job interview?” Virgil asked, his voice cracking like an egg, “I actually came by yesterday to introduce myself but I, um, kinda got nervous?”

Virgil held his breath, his hands curling into fists inside his hoodie packet. He wanted to flip his hoodie over his face like a turtle yanking itself into its shell. He forced himself to keep his head up and his eyes free of tears.

Patton blinked behind his glasses. “Oh, oh. No wonder you looked so nervous! I promise you, kiddo, I’m all bake and no bite!”

“R-really?” He couldn’t be serious, right?

“Of course!” Patton beamed, stepping to unlatch the small gate door that separated the employee space from the customers area, “Now, if you follow me, we’ll do the interview in the back, alright?”

Patton was serious. He still wanted to conduct an interview with Virgil, who hadn’t expected to get this far, wow. What the fudge was he supposed to do? Was he really about to possibly get a job?

“Okay,” Virgil said, ignoring the way his insides jiggled like jelly. As he took a step closer, a weird warmth fell over him. For the first time in a long while, Virgil felt confident things would turn out favorably for him.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #patton sanders #virgil sanders #moxiety #kat writes

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yandere-society · 5 years

Note

Yandere!CEO!Taehyung who is either obsessed with his assistant who is going to work for another Yandere!Ceo (Like Jungkook) or a coffee store owner where he gets his coffee from but the store is moving to a new town

I got lost in the sauce bc I recently watched The Devil Wears Prada and I saw ‘assistant’ and ‘ceo’ and I went off. Hope you don’t mind :)

Admin/Writer- Chinkbihh

Words- 6.7k

Trigger Warnings- Sadism, verbal abuse, yandere Taehyung

Actually, The Devil Wears Gucci

You had always thought that ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ was an over exaggeration of what a boss/assistant relationship could be.

Until you met Mr. Kim.

Meryl Streep as a boss would’ve been an angel compared to the monster who signed your paychecks now.

You had moved to the city with the assumption that jobs would be readily available for your plucking, however not even Mcdonalds was willing to call back for an interview. After living three weeks in the city without a job, you told yourself that you would apply to anything and everything you came across before resorting to less admirable means of getting money. So when you came across a job position for being an assistant to some company, you had half-heartedly sent an application- no expectations for getting any response.

Apparently, this place was more desperate than you for it took exactly two hours before some nice lady was calling you and begging for an interview. This should have been the first red flag, for what kind of office job was more eager than a fast food chain? However the pay was nice and you weren’t in any position to shrug off potential employers, thus you agreed to come in.

The following day you arrived at the company and sat down with the woman from over the phone, answering her questions with as much integrity as you could muster. You were answering the stream of questions with ease until one odd one came up.

“Are you fast?” She asked not once looking up from her little clipboard. The question threw you off guard.

“I-I’m sorry, what are you referencing?” Your confident mask faltered for a second due to your inability to understand what the fuck she meant.

“You’re going to be asked to make runs to the most random places throughout the city under harsh time crunches, do you think you could do that?” She seemed sympathetic as she said this, as if she really didn’t want to put you through that.

This should have been another red flag, but all that popped into your head was coffee runs.

You just nodded, sure you could do some running around to get some wealthy people a couple cappuccinos for their ‘productive’ meetings.

“Are you sensitive?”

Your eyebrow rose on its’ own accord and before your mouth could open to ask for more context, the interviewer interjected by saying;

“Our CEO is a very…um, blunt man. Some people don’t like that personality type so we rather avoid employing someone who will crumble under that pressure.” This was yet another red flag.

One that you didn’t bother looking at as you just smiled and told her, “I promise to keep my emotions out of the professional scene here.”

–

‘Blunt’ turned out to be a really watered down version for what the CEO actually was; a heartless bastard with no concept of empathy. You later felt backstabbed by the interviewer (Irene was her name) for downplaying such a demon. But you could understand her incentive to not scare you off, how else would they get any employees if everyone knew about the CEO’s true behavior?

After your brief interview, Irene declared you more than adequate enough for the position. She decided to show you around before your first day the following week.

The office was modern and chic with everyone seated at different sections depending on their department. You got the sense that it was an elaborate operation given the high-rise location of the office floor and the expensive furniture. Even the fucking coffee maker at the cafeteria was more costly than your rent. Despite the modern and voguish environment, all the employees Irene introduced you to seemed amicable and kind enough. You did however notice the slight eye widen whenever Irene told them that you were going to be “Mr. Kim’s new assistant.”

There was something that no one was telling you, but everyone knew.

You didn’t discover what it was until Irene walked you over to a door and told you that it was time to meet the man you’d be working for.

“It’s very important that you knock everytime. Walking in without warning will make him furious.” Irene gently told you as she raised her hand to knock on the mahogany door.

However before her small fist could make contact with it, the door was ripped open from the other side and a girl rushed out in such speed you could barely catch her face.

The one thing you did catch though was the blotched mess it was with tear streaks running down it. You heard her sobs sound behind you and get further and further away as she ran out of the office. You thought you heard a muttered; “insensitive jerk” as she passed by.

Irene side-glanced you and gave you an awkward smile. It was obvious that she didn’t even know what to do. “Um…sorry about that. R-Rose has always been a bit of a crybaby.”

She was a bad liar.

Irene leaned forward in the now open doorway and called out,

“Mr. Kim? Is it alright if I come in?” A grunt was heard but this was all the confirmation she needed before taking your hand and leading you inside.

The office was large with the outer wall being all glass, revealing the sky-line of the other tall skyscraper buildings in the city. The walls were white but every piece of furniture was black, from the tiny lounge sofa pushed to the side to the very frames the abstract paintings were held in. In the center of such room was a large grey granite desk that held a golden name plate that clearly read; Kim Taehyung (CEO).

Behind the desk stood your new boss as he ruffled his hair in frustration.

His messy strands were icy blue that contrasted the copper shade of his complexion, the sun having seemingly adored his skin but the top of his head favoring the cold. (Or hair dye, but that’s none of your business.) He was tall with a broad torso, yet he was slender. His olympian body was clad in a suit that you dared not ponder the price of, knowing it could only end with you in tears. His intense and dark brows were pinched forward in annoyance, below them were his egyptian-like eyes that held raven colored orbs ignited with a fire you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of. His face was slender but his features were anything but. His nose being fleshy but straight and his lips being plushy and berry-red. Spotted on his face were tiny beauty marks that were spaced enough to form a miniature constellation.

He looked up at Irene and scowled, “I told her to get Park Jimin for a meeting and the dumbass calls Park Chanyeol on accident. Now I have to deal with this dumbo eared giant in the lobby who can’t take a fucking hint that I’m not selling any of his shitty products on my line.” He grumbled with a surprisingly gravely voice that was so deep it sounded like the devil.

You connected the dots with the poor girl who ran out of the room only seconds prior, assuming he fired her or at least yelled at her very brutally. He huffed once more and sat down in his velvet chair by the desk and finally bothered to give you a glance, just now noticing the person next to Irene.

“Whose this? Don’t tell me it’s another brainless bimbo.”

He spoke of you like you weren’t in the room, which caused your brow to tick in annoyance.

Irene nervously cleared her throat and said, “This is Y/n, she is your new personal assistant.”

His face was unreadable and stony as he gave you a scrutinizing gaze, looking up and down your form to drink you in.

You wanted to shift nervously under his piercing eyes, but you didn’t want to be another ‘Rose’ for him to berate so you kept your calm. Something just told you that he fed off fear.

Then he spoke, “Go to Starbucks and get me a caramel macchiato.”

He didn’t look away from you, clearly addressing you.

Irene bristled beside you, “S-sir, she doesn’t start until-”

You cut her off with a grin as you stared right back Mr. Kim, “I’ll get right on that. Hot or iced and what size?” -

Kim Taehyung was a monster.

His source of nutrition?

The souls, hope and energy of those mere mortals around him.

In a way it was awe inducing how brilliant that man was. As much hatred people may have for him, one could not deny Taehyung his respect. It took a lot of hard work to get to where he had gotten at the young age of 23. But that did not shake the asshole regime his employees had to suffer through.

He wanted what he wanted, when he wanted it and exactly how he wanted it. And if you couldn’t deliver upon such demands? Then off with your head and pray you never cross Kim Taehyung ever again.

Taehyung was not a boss who would pull one aside and quietly break the news that your services aren’t needed anymore. No. He’ll scream it infront of everyone in the middle of a conference meeting and throw in a list of reasons why you should reevaluate your life for good measure.

People bent so easily to him, submitted without question. What was once a quiet and calm scene of friendly employees will swiftly change into a frenzied mess at a drop of a hat whenever Mr. Kim walked by.

Panic would cause people to make copies of copies in fear that they’ll forget the important documents they needed to give him. People would leave elevators once Mr. Kim entered, always granting him his own ride to the top floor no matter how late they were running. People only spoke when spoken to during meetings and when a deadline wasn’t met, they simply didn’t show up to work anymore due to the fear of facing the CEO.

However there was a special infereno for the role of his personal assistant, one that you suffered everyday.

You caught on quick that he enjoyed giving you nearly impossible tasks, and he cared not about how stressful or absurd the demands were.

“Coffee and bagel on my desk in 10 minutes or you’re fired.”

“Go downtown and get me those dumplings I like, be back in fifteen.”

“Go pick up my dry-cleaning and set up an appointment for a message at that one sauna in the west side.”

“Get me the new Gucci robe or don’t bother coming in to work tomorrow.”

“I got an urge to have a dog, go get one for me by 4’oclock.”

“The dog you got me threw up in my living room, here’s the spare key so you can clean it up. Clean the rest of the place while you’re at it too.”

“I want a private jet…figure that out.”

“The tire popped off on my car on the way here. Go pop it back on, it’s two blocks down.”

“Call Jung Hoseok and cancel our dinner plans, tell him he’s an asshole and his mother is a whore.”

The last request was something he asked often of you, he particularly liked you sending over really vulgar messages to people.

One time he caught you trying to sugar coat something over the phone and called you into his office to have a ‘talk.’

“Y/n, I believe I told you to to tell Mr. Lee that he could call back when he’s done with his head being up his ass.”

He menacingly glared at you as you tried your best to keep a straight face. “What did you say instead?”

“I-I told Mr. Lee that you would further communicate with him once you deem him more aware and intelligent.”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Funny, that sounds a lot different that ‘get your head out of your ass’.”

It was silent for a moment and you really wondered if you were going to lose your job just because you didn’t tell someone to shove it up where the sun don’t shine.

Mr. Kim sat back in his seat and barked out, “When I tell you to curse at someone, you do it. I don’t care who it is. It can be the fucking queen of England and you’ll call her a cunt if I order you to. Now get out of my office and make yourself useful by fetching me a coffee.”

Now you didn’t flinch when you called other wealthy business people with cursing insults in hand.

–

A month had passed and you had slowly become the longest working personal assistant for Kim Taehyung.

Other employees informed you that the longest run before you was three weeks and two days and the girl ended with a mental breakdown in the bathroom.

When they asked you how you managed to tolerate all of Mr. Kim’s demands whilst not getting landed on your ass with him firing you, you tried your best to explain your strategy.

You weren’t getting paid to give your opinions.

So whenever he ordered you to get him something under nearly impossible time limits, you just kept your mouth shut and ran off to compete that insane task.

It was hard given he never gave you establishment names of the places he wanted stuff from, it was always given in terms of “that out place in the east side.” “That one restaurant I like.” “That one gallery I visited last time with Jin.”

And you always only had a short time frame to figure out where he is talking about, go there and get what he wanted, and return back before his timer went off. Sprinting down the busy sidewalks of the city had become a daily thing that was required of you.

You would go out on these runs 3-4 times a day and do ridiculous calls about 5-6 times a day. Sometimes Mr. Kim would have this look on his face as he told you of your newest assignment, as if he anticipated your objection because even he knew how absurd his demands were.

But you never gave him that satisfaction, knowing that he will get the upper hand and possibly fire you if you interjected in any way.

So you would just always smile and tell him that you were right on it.

–

Kim Taehyung rather enjoyed studying you.

When he first caught sight of you, he couldn’t help but think you were very attractive. Yet this didn’t cause his heart to grow fond of you at all. In fact it was almost a negative given all the pretty assistants he had in the past turned out to be dumbest.

Yet in a matter of a few weeks, you managed to prove him wrong and exceed previously set expectations.

He knew he was an ass. And he wanted his assistants to know that when they first met him, never would he want to give a first impression of being a lax or laid back boss. So maybe he went out of his way to make things a tad more…stressful for you.

Taehyung couldn’t deny the slight surprise every time you simply responded with that cute grin of yours and pulled off every task that he even doubted was possible.

After a few weeks of this, Taehyung was forced to acknowledge the fact that you were here to stay as you have proven yourself more than capable.

But that didn’t mean he stopped fucking with you.

No, if anything he did it even more.

He found it so adorable to view that expression of yours when you were faced with yet another idiotic obstacle he set up for you. The slight incoming blush as your face reddened with a frustration that you dared not utter. The pursing of your lips as if you were forcing yourself not to object. The delightful eye widen when he told you to make vulgar calls. That funny little eyebrow twitch you did when he gave you an especially difficult command. And your pathetic little attempt to mask your displeasure by plastering on an innocent smile and chirping, “Sure, I’ll get right on that.”

It was better than any comedy Taehyung could’ve paid to watch.

Taehyung was well aware of his own sadistic tendencies, therefore it made sense that he would have an odd sense of satisfaction from pestering you.

However the endgame most sadists had never came true in this case; you never broke. He witnessed many assistants crumble under him; whether it be by crying, screaming at him or just plain storming out.

He always won in the end, his trophy being their crack in sanity and composure. But you were stubborn.

You refused to let him get to you. Maybe that’s why he found himself slightly dumbfounded by you. You swallowed your pride and did his bidding with a dog-like obedience that you obviously faked. Yet you never cracked and humored him with a spontaneous rebellion to his dictatorship, you followed along but masked yourself just enough to have him thirsty to hear your actual thoughts and feelings.

He didn’t realize just how far his fascination went until he found himself at a club on a Saturday night, sat in the VIP lounge with Kim Namjoon to his left and Kim Seokjin to his right.

They were sat at a U-shaped booth that was dimly lit and above the chaotic dancefloor that sounded below, their elevated position giving them a glamorous view of the most famous club in the city.

“Let me get this straight, your plan is to blackmail your cousin into signing off on this deal?” Namjoon clarified while pouring the trio drinks.

Taehyung shrugged and raised the glass that was handed to him up to his mouth, sniffing the over-priced alcohol before taking a chug of it. “Why not? Business isn’t meant to be all clean and squeaky.”

“Still, you’re out of your mind if you think your uncle isn’t going to get you after this.” Jin retorted from Taehyung’s other side.

“Jin, don’t think that I don’t know how you avoided giving your tax statements to the IRS.” Taehyung bit back, not liking the hypocritical behavior of his comrades.

All the men at that particular booth were wealthy ceos who ran as kings in this particular city. Taehyung wasn’t sure if he liked the term ‘friends’ but at the very least he considered Namjoon and Seokjin as allies in the cruel world of business. He tolerated the two more than he did most.

The discussion went on for another hour of so, drinks fading Taehyung’s mind as the man’s speech became increasingly more and more slurred with every topic they covered. These topics ranging from the current market to interesting endeavors they have faced lately in their line of work. The drinks continued to pour, the bottles were bottomless for such rich men. His inhibitions were lowered as well as his morals (what little there was left for him).

He didn’t quite know how or when she ended up in his lap, but he did nothing to push her off.

All the molasses covered words she purred into his ear seemed all too appealing.

Her hold on him was instantaneous, something about her screamed a comfortable sense of familiarity that he couldn’t deny for the life of him.

The rest of the night was blurry, but a clear conclusion formed when Taehyung woke up the next morning with a stranger in his bed.

–

She looked like you.

Alot.

The resemblance was striking and uncanny.

From her (color) hair, to her docile little features, to the figure shape and even the height.

If you had a twin sister, Taehyung was positive that he just fucked her into oblivion.

Taehyung had awoken the next morning with a feeling of arms around his waist and another body sharing his satin sheets. This was not necessarily a new sensation given he had his own fair share of one night stands. But he was not prepared for what he saw when he rolled around to see which nameless woman it was this time.

For a moment, his groggy mind couldn’t comprehend that it was not you, for his brain simply matched up the looks very easily and deduced it as such.

However after a moment of closer inspection, he noticed that it was a doppelganger but not the real you. The alikeness only took up his mind for a brief moment before he was forced to spot something else while studying the intruder.

She had bruises.

Hand marks around her neck, blotchiness of getting spanked on her ass, love bites that were borderline black littered her body and those ruby stained lips were swollen and cracked from assault of the mouth.

Taehyung was taken aback by the sight of such brutal violence that marked her otherwise smooth and unbothered skin.

If he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed that this girl was the victim of abuse. Yet the fact that she was in his bed had lead to the conclusion that he himself must’ve been responsible for such injuries.

He always knew that he was rough in bed, but he never went as far as he clearly did last night with this woman.

It was jaw dropping and a twinge of guilt even glimmered in his otherwise dead heart.

He must’ve put this girl through hell itself last night just to satisfy his sick primal needs. And later when he made his way to his kitchen (after telling his maid to wake the girl up and kick her out) an alarming thought bestowed upon him that was too spot-on and shameless for it not to be true.

It was no coincidence that the one girl he slept whom held so much resemblance to you lead to the wildest night that unleashed his true sadism like it never had been before.

His intoxicated self had connected the dots for him to face when he sobered up.

He wanted to leave those marks and bruises on you…not her.

–

Your body was failing you.

The moment you woke up that morning, a sense of doom was in the air as you discovered your nose was stuffed, throat sore and stomach uneasy. You were sick.

If God had granted you a nicer boss who understood the human body and the occasional decline in health, perhaps you would’ve called in for a sick day. But asking Kim Taehyung for a sick day was like asking the Devil to read a bible….you might as well have just asked for a gruesome death. Taehyung didn’t believe in sick days and you were not in the mood to begin another fruitless job search, so you decided to take some aspirin and soldier on to the office.

“Coffee, bagel…you know the drill.” Was the first words Mr. Kim greeted you with when you entered his office for the morning rundown. He seemed oddly quiet this morning and he refused to look up at you from his desk. Which was somewhat concerning given he always glared up at you whenever he barked out his demands. You simply nodded and attempted to shrug off this break in character before going off to make your first run of the day.

When you returned with the usual coffee and bagel in hand, you discovered that Taehyung was not in his office at all. You stepped out in search of him and Irene seemed to notice your struggle before telling you; “Oh, he didn’t tell you? He’s in a meeting right now with Mr. Jeon. Check the conference room.”

You quickly thanked her and made your way over to said room.

You swung the door open to see two men (one being Mr. Kim and the other being yet another handsome but youthful man in a suit) talking with hushed tones that held a underlying vibe of anger.

“Taehyung don’t fucking try me I swear to-”

“I’m not trying anything, Jungkook. I think you got a little comfortable with your position without keeping in mind how you got there.”

“Excuse me? Was this your plan all along-”The other man (who must’ve been Mr. Jeon) suddenly stopped talking as he noticed your form standing by the now ajar doorway.

This caused your boss to turn and face what took the other’s attention from the conversation at hand. Taehyung looked at you with a scowl plastered on his aristocratic face, eyes ruthless as they bored right through you.

You froze in place as your blood ran cold.

You realised too late that you had made a mistake.

You were in trouble.

“What the fuck did I say about knocking?! You worthless bitch, does your stupidity know of no bounds?” Taehyung snarled, causing your stomach to drop.

“I-I just wanted to give you the coffee and-”

He cut you off, “Details of your incompetence do not interest me.”

Maybe it was because you were sick that your emotions were a tad more sensitive than usual, but for the first time you felt your eyes sting with the incoming tears that welled up in your vision. Your body already felt beat but now your self-esteem took a plummet as well. Taehyung continued to glare at you but you tried to blink the tears away before they could fall.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered before rushing to plop his food onto the table before him and scurry out of the room.

–

Your brain was pounding as if a hammer was rutting against it with a vengeance. Your stomach was twisted in knots as your throat screamed for some type of soother for the scratchy ache it was suffering. You sniffed once more and attempted to focus on the task at hand, answering calls left for the office, but your lids kept dropping due to your drowsy state. You still were licking your wounds after what had happened earlier that morning, for the first time on this job- you fucked up.

You weren’t baffled at Mr. Kim’s reaction, in fact it was to be expected for him to lash out like that. The only cause of disappointment was in yourself. You messed up when you shouldn’t have and unknowingly let the fucker get to you. You hated the fact that he saw you near tears, you hated letting him see you in a vulnerable state. You hated that you almost cowered in fear and let him smell the fear off of you. You were no better than the girls before you. You were proud to think that he would never get under your skin and that you would continue to pull everything off.

But of course there was such thing as the ‘straw that broke the camel’s back’.

You didn’t want to face him, but after the morning progressed into the early afternoon; you were called into Mr. Kim’s office.

“I need a copy of the sales reports on my desk within the next hour. There will be a board meeting at one so I’m going to need you to sit in on that and take notes. I will be going out for lunch via the reservations you made yesterday so if you can call beforehand to double-check that would be great. Also call Kim Namjoon and raincheck drinks at Oliver’s, tell him that I’m free tomorrow night but not tonight. As for now, my brother recently had a baby so I need to send flowers, go out and get some ordered and delivered to the local hospital.” He said all of this without looking up at you once during the dialogue, eyes scanning a paper before him as his deep and cold voice filled the room.

You sniffed out of instinct that can’t be helped when one is ill, to this he looked up at you in neck-breaking speed.

You thought that perhaps he was going to comment on your obvious impaired state now that he was viewing you, but instead he quirked a brow and asked harshly, “Any questions?”

You shook your head no as you ran the mental list once more in your head.

“Then get out of my office.”

–

You waited for the elevator to ‘ding’ with it’s familiar arrival.

You needed to leave the office and get those flowers your boss had asked of you, but also you needed to be back in time for that meeting. So once again, you found yourself in yet another rush. Unfortunately, the fact that Mr. Kim’s office floor was the very top one meant that you had to factor in an elevator ride to and from the top whilst going on these errand runs.

You sighed in impatience as a few more seconds passed, time eating away more than you would have liked it to.

Finally you heard a small sound that signalled an incoming elevator, you entered it when it’s silver doors opened for you.

You leaned against the wall and awaited it’s closure, but right when it was about to shut, a pale and veiny hand stuck out to stop it.

He stepped in, his face being familiar but not enough for you to correctly place your finger on it. He looked at the buttons but he didn’t click any when he saw that you both were heading to the main floor.

The doors closed and you both quietly felt the elevator descend downwards, the two of you facing the doors.

Once again, your sickness caused your nose to sniffle and this brought the attention of the man in the closed space with you.

He turned to face you. His doe eyes studied you for a moment, before a look of realization sparked in his inky orbs.

“Are you Taehyung’s assistant?” You meekly nodded, just now noticing that this was the ‘Mr. Jeon’ that was in the meeting you had interrupted earlier that morning.

You felt his gaze run down your face (which you knew was most likely pale and sick looking with a reddened nose to top it off).

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier…my cousin has always been a jackass.” He told you gently with that high-pitched voice of his that held a light musical tone. You felt your eyes widened in slight surprise at the ‘cousin’ part, but nonetheless you kept your mouth shut. You wanted to ask how the hell this guy was related to the spawn of satan himself, Mr. Jeon having a friendly and amicable tone while Mr. Kim had stick shoved up his ass 24/7. “How long have you been working for him?”

You didn’t know why he seemed so interested in that, but given he was your superior you answered; “A little over a month now, sir.”

He snorted at the ‘sir’ part but looked at you pitifully as even he must’ve known how hellish that month must have been for you. It was silent for a moment and you both felt the elevator slow down, telling you that you were about to arrive at the lobby floor.

“This might be a little unorthodox, but my company has a paid internship program if you’re interested. It only lasts six months but if your work ethic is good, we can hire you as a full-time employee after those months are up.” He dug into his suit and pulled out a business card before handing it to you.

The doors opened and he stepped out, calling out from over his shoulder; “It’s not much, but it’s better than working for that asshole.”

–

Taehyung was…sinisterly pleased.

When you had walked in that morning without knocking, he was thrilled to finally be able to reprimand you. Sure, it was a small and silly mistake. But it was the first slip-up you had in a month, and of course he was going to pounce on that.

The image of your glassy eyes blinking furiously away at stubborn tears was too good for it to not be burned into his memory. The embarrassment that burned your face with a gorgeous crimson glow was a mouth-watering sight to behold. When your lip wobbled and voice broke as you for once showed him a side of you that he never saw before (a broken and weak one) he couldn’t deny the bliss that overtook him in that moment.

He broke you.

He won.

He wanted to see it over and over again, your watery eyes and pained face that was laced in humiliation. The experience triggering a taboo sense of arousal that had Taehyung taking care of himself under his desk minutes after the meeting finished.

How badly he wanted to be the master of any further emotions of degradation, sadness or pity.

How badly he wanted that expression to be saved for his eyes only.

How badly he wanted to push you to your limits….

It took a lot of Taehyung to not tease you when he had given you your chore list of the day. He limited eye contact and pretended to be engrossed in a stupid HR letter to maintain an image of aloofness. But, it was important that you saw him as cold and unforgiving. A sadist needed to be feared.

He awaited your return eagerly for the meeting that was to be held later that day. He wanted to see if he would have a chance to yell at you and potentially embarrass you further in front of a board of directors. But when he finally walked into that meeting with expectations set of you being there; Irene was in your spot with a notepad in hand.

“Where’s Y/n?” Taehyung whispered in the middle of the presentation to one of his most loyal employees.

In response, she nudged over a paper, still frantically jotting down information that Taehyung lost interest in long ago.

Taehyung’s hands shook in fury as he read the lines over and over again.

It was a letter of resignation.

–

(Two Months Later)

You sat in front of this old and serious man as he looked over your resume once more through his thick prescription glasses.

Your internship with Jungkook’s company did not last long. Not due to a falling out or lack of good work ethic on your part, but due to a mysterious tanking of his company as insider trading and supposed tax evasion caused the business to fail.

Although, this was the story that was released to the press. Loyal workers of the Jeon Corporation will tell you that Kim Taehyung had framed him in a effort to get rid of competition. Somehow, this story was more believable to you than the one the news reported on.

Either way, you were out of a job and desperately needed to find a way to make a living. So here you were, interviewing for some shitty saleswoman position in effort to pay your rent.

“I must say…you have a lot of nerve being here today.” The old man grumbled after looking over his notes once more. You spluttered in confusion at this rude comment. The interview had been going well…what happened?

“Excuse me?”

“We called your former employers for a reference but since your most recent employer is facing jail time, we had to call the one prior to that. CEO Kim Taehyung sent us a fax that said as a worker you have ‘problems listening to specific instructions, lazy and incompetent, and the worst mistake my company will make by hiring you for you cannot handle a shred of responsibility.’”

Your mouth went dry as you pictured the boss from hell laughing evilly as he sent this fax, most likely trying to ruin your life as some sort of sick entertainment.

“I-I can explain plea-” you attempted to speak, only to be cut off with just a look.

The old man looked at you with critical beady eyes as he pointed to the door and said, “I think you should leave.”

–

You stormed into the familiar office with a rage you had never felt before.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and your very livelihood was just fucked with. How were you supposed to pay your bills or even afford to sustain your basic needs when you had someone like Kim Taehyung telling all future employers that you were ‘the worst mistake a company could commit’?

He called you lazy and incompetent! Not once did you fail him in any regard bigger than forgetting to knock on a door one time. You waited on that man hand and foot while allowing yourself to be degraded in the process.

“Where is he?!” You growled to Irene from her usual spot at the front desk.

“Y-Y/n, calm down, okay? I know what he did bu-”

“Where!” You exploded, sick and tired of her always defending him despite all the evidence of him being a devil and ruining innocent people’s lives.

She looked in your eyes and knew that she wasn’t going to convince you to leave. Irene sighed in defeat and muttered, “In his office.”

You ran to his office and visously ripped the door open to enter his little lion’s den that so many careers have met their end in.

He was seated in his lounge area, a glass of Scotch in his large golden hand as he looked up at you in a bored yet amused stare.

You approached him and he just grinned, a whimsical delight spreading across the elegant canvas that was his face.

“Y/n, I was expecting you! Can you get me a refill babe? Ever since you’ve left I’ve had to get my own and frankly, I’m kinda tired of it.” He casually called out, shaking the glass in your direction.

Your brow ticked in annoyance and you noted that it only made him smirk even wider.

So your suspicions were true; he did take pleasure in the pain of others.

“What the fuck?! What was with that reference you gave to that company?! You know damn well that I was the best assistant that you’ve ever had, and this is how you repay me?! Why? Why do you hurt me so much?” You hoarsely yelled as your voice gave out in the end, sadness beginning to overrule anger as you realized just how little your life meant to someone as big as him.

Taehyung was quiet for a moment as a somber look shadowed his face.

Then a chuckle.

That chuckle bled into a thunderous and roaring laughter as he clutched at his stomach. After a solid minute of him laughing like a crazed person, he wiped his tears away and seriously stated;

“Because I like hurting you. And you will learn to like it too. Did you think you could leave that easily? Don’t be stupid sweetie, it’s not a good look and I know you’re better than that. You might as well come work for me given that no other employers in a hundred mile radius will hire you.”

He got up and slowly stalked towards you.

“You should know better than to try to leave someone like me. But don’t worry, I’ll clear matters up in that dumb little head of yours. You’re not just an assistant and I’m not just your boss. Your my pet and I’m your master. I don’t care if you like it or not, because you only have two options. Accept it, or never get a job and starve out in the streets. You will only ever work for and serve me. Sorry I didn’t run that past you when you were working here earlier. I wanted to slowly progress our way there but you left before I could have the chance. Now I have no choice but to push this all on you.”

He was only an inch away from your face now, beaming at your shell-shocked state before he plopped his drink into your hands.

“Now….I believe I asked for a refill.”

(oooof this was kinda trash so srry but that. It ran for longer than I wanted it to so im sorry if it’s long winded. Also spacing might be weird bc my computer is on crack cocaine so that’s fun. Anyway, for inspiration I used @mint-yooxgi‘s Baekhyun yandere CEO story but obvi hers is much better so like check that out. Lemme know what you think and this is chinkbihh signing off.)

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