foxxydevil - Tumblr blog

foxxydevil · 2 years ago

Text

Lace & Silken Shadows

So this is a lil something something I'm cooking up because I have mega brain rot. This should be a longer fic, maybe even pretty slow burn-y.

The basic principle is that Alexia, a young destitute female college graduate, gets accepted into the Alchemax bioengineering internship under Dr Miguel O'Hara. She struggles with her abusive home life, making ends meat, and her judgmental pain in the ass lab supervisor who stirs feelings in her she can not even begin to understand and he clearly has a few secret second lives of his own.

Fem!OC/Miguel O'Hara third person dark romance + superhero shenanigans

Word count: 8.6k

Content warnings ⚠️

Past child abuse, sexual trauma, prostitution, discussed current sexual abuse, mild injuries due to abuse, abuse denial, age gap, mentor/student relationship, BDSM

The Boomtown Rats droned a particularly fitting chorus in Alexia’s ear as she took the 9 train, shooting through the dim green pre dawn expanses interrupted by the bright concrete and glass structures of Nueva York.

Tell me why?

I don't like Mondays

Tell me why?

I don't like Mondays

I want to shoot

The whole day down

Grim, she thought and yawned into her hand, a wrist looped through one of the few loops hanging from the ceiling to anchor oneself with. And still, fitting. Nerves coil in her stomach, twisting her guts onto a winch with rhythmic efficiency. It wasn’t hard to feel like she was making the wrong choice, again, as hunger roiled in her stomach and she could almost feel the disgusting rubberized anti-slip flooring of the train through the thinning soles of her shoes.

Accepting the scholarships to go to college had been stupid, even if it had covered some living expenses, but an unpaid post graduate internship?

Alexia's mom's screams of how selfish she was still stung in her ears.

Her heavily pregnant sister-in-law's sneer burned into the backs of her eyes.

Somehow the bruises on her back and the way her shoulder ached as she held onto the wrist strap didn’t seem nearly as bad as the words that had bloomed just as deep on repeat in her mind when her brother had shoved her into the doorframe.

“Selfish little princess.”

“So you're just going to let us all starve for your useless BS?”

“I have done nothing but care for you under this roof since dad died. All you do is take and think you're so much better than us.”

Those memories of screaming and shoving from the last few weeks since she had told them the news about being accepted into the internship program crowded her mind, distracting her from the other morning commuters.

Their own little girl

Sweet 16 ain't so peachy keen

No, it ain't so neat to admit defeat

They can see no reasons

'Cause there are no reasons

What reason do you need?

I can give you at least 3 good reasons, Bob Geldof, she thought as the band launched into the repeating chorus once more and the train drove into a tunnel, transforming the window into a dim mirror.

Fuck, were the bags under her eyes always that obvious? And were the windows smudged or did her bun really have that many drab colored flyaways.

At least she was running a comfortable - more like overly anxious - hour early for the first day of her Alchemax internship. She could probably fix herself up a little nicer in a Starbucks bathroom if they didn't require a purchase. She couldn't afford the dollar menu for breakfast much less a 5$ coffee that would only turn her empty stomach gurgling into agonizing cramps.

And daddy doesn't understand it

He always said she was as good as gold

And he can see no reasons

'Cause there are no reasons

What reason do you need to be shown?

Sorry daddy, it's been a couple of years. You probably wouldn’t recognize me anymore. I had to sell all my gold to keep the house.

It was a bittersweet feeling thinking of her dad today. He may not recognize her, but she hoped he would understand what she had to do, that she had to do it for both of their dreams to come true.

Growing up, before she could even walk on her own, her dad had taken Alexia to work with him, boasting about how she was a junior engineer, and someday, she'll work there too.

And today was that day.

As she stepped off the train, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. She glances up at the towering building that houses Alchemax and couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of starting her internship finally, after all the work she had done to stand there.

Of course it wasn't the first time she had stood in this very spot. Aside from the interviews for the internship, her father had been one of their top engineers. He'd even run his own lab.

Alexia grinned to herself as she walked across the plaza to the crowded chain coffee shop. A line snaked out of the building despite the early hour but she wasn't there to order. She walked to the front counter.

"Bathroom code?" Alexia asked the already tired looking barista and coiled the kinked white plastic headphone cord around her ancient, barely working, mp3 player before shoving it into her ancient canvas backpack.

He gave her a blank stare before reluctantly rattling off the code. Alexia thanked him and quickly made her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She washed her face with cold water and tried to tidy her hair as best she could. She looked in the mirror and took a deep breath. You can do this, she told herself. You can succeed.

She grimaced at the too small, too off white, button up shirt she wore, the very last button hole secured with a safety pin. One of her brother's friends had popped the plastic button off the other night while tearing at the cheap yellowing fabric with an urgency that still flashed through her mind accompanied with a surge of fear that made her want to heave her empty stomach into the sink.

Her skirt wasn't in much better condition. Despite being black originally it had a gray-ish worn out tinge from being washed a few too many times, having outlived its destined fast fashion lifespan. She knew she should have been wearing sheer tights under it, the expected clean look of a Nueva York business woman, but she hadn't owned an intact pair in years.

Alexia sighed and splashed some more water on her face, as if she could wash away the negative thoughts. She had spent too long letting her circumstances define her, elegant sheer tights or not she was making a new life for herself.

Even being 45 minutes early to her scheduled office hours she decided to head into the intimidatingly dark Alchemax building across the brick courtyard anyways. The front receptionist hadn't even laid out all the badges for new interns on the desk yet, a group of about two dozen hopeful headshots looking up at her from their plastic sleeves growing one by one in neat rows.

Alexia was the only one of the group that had the designation "bioengineering" printed in an all caps cobalt font under her portrait. While Alchemax pursued many scientific fields, none were quite as selective as bioengineering, she had earned high marks in her college courses even with her unusual work schedule to qualify for the prestigious field and stand out among all the other applicants. She grinned as she snagged up the card, a renewed sense of pride warming her chest to push out the fear and anxiety.

“Dr O’Hara already came in a few minutes ago. You can head up to the 15th floor rather than wait. I’m sure he’s not preparing a presentation for you anyways,” the receptionist said, shaking Alexia from her thoughts.

Was that a sympathetic or pained look in her eyes? Oh shit-

“Oh- yeah for sure no point in the full production for just one intern,” Alexia answered with a lopsided grin, trying to sooth her nerves with some humor, give herself more of a chance to see if the receptionist was hinting at a far less dire reason she shouldn't bother waiting.

The look the receptionist gave her was definitely sympathy, that and pity. The look one gave someone who was terminal.

Alexia laughed nervously before turning to make her way to the elevator, not having to wait for the direction to go past the center escalator in the hall and to the row of silver doors hidden behind it. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of pain in her gut again. She could only hope that she would be able to meet the expectations of her mentors and live up to her father's legacy and dreams for her. The elevator doors opened and she stepped in, her heart pounding in her chest.

While most of the other interns would be directed to a variety of conference rooms for their first day and introduction to the company, she was to go directly to the lab. Dr O'Hara, it would seem, did not have a separate office space or need for a larger room.

That sympathetic cringe the receptionist had given her set her mind spinning with worry again. She pictured a stern and intimidating figure, someone who would judge her based on her appearance and pedigree, not on her abilities and work ethic. As she walked down the hallway after a gut lurching short trip up, her footsteps echoed in the silence, the sound of her own breathing deafening as it crowded out every thought with beginnings of an anxiety attack lurking in the recesses of her mind.

A deep voice called out to her from a nearby room. "Hey- are you the new intern?"

Alexia looked over to see a dark haired man standing in the doorway, his suit neatly pressed and tie perfectly knotted. He stared at her, his eyes tired with dark bags that emphasized his already deep set eyes with thick brows hooding his narrowed eyes as if he was already over this interaction, annoyed at the inconvenience of her very existence.

"Yes! Alexia-"

"Uh," she realized her mistake almost immediately as the pause drew out just slightly too long to add her last name naturally, introducing herself by her first name alone. She narrowly avoided her legs tangling under her as she made the sharp stop and turn, walking with a confident proud stride that didn’t exactly match the restricted proper stride of most pencil skirts, the material too worn out to give her the ladylike gait.

Her hand stretched out in an offered handshake. "Alexia Gates."

The man stared at her hand for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he reached out and gripped her hand firmly, his gaze returning to hers.

"Dr O'Hara," he answered, his voice low and gravelly. "You’re early, that's something. Let's get to the lab."

His voice had a rhythmic quality, a scripted practice that hinted at a cool ego he hadn't expected him to be so- large. She never thought of herself as short. Alexia stood a respectable 5'6, neither tall nor tiny. Dr O'Hara dwarfed her, not only because he was at least a foot taller than her but because he was twice her weight, pure muscle. His face wasn’t unfamiliar of course, she had looked him up in the college library almost as soon as she had received her acceptance letter with her program details, but his presence online had been limited to a short corporate bio along with a portrait that was only a few years older than the portrait that glowered at her from the badge clipped to his chest, clearly not one for social media or media engagement in general.

She nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek. It was a bad habit, one that sometimes led to the iron tang of blood in her mouth but people rarely noticed, not paying much attention to her face in her field of work.

"Right, yes. The lab," Alexia agreed.

As they started to walk her eyes assessed her new mentor, picking up any details she could glean from his movements alone. Dr O'Hara didn’t so much as walk as he prowled, his shoulders were massive and rolled forward. It wasn't quite in the same way that most tall men seemed to have a permanently shrinked hunch to their posture, used to training themselves into a less intimidating posture, but like Atlas balancing the sky on his shoulders.

They reached the lab without another word while Alexia considered if she was supposed to say something, to make a good impression on the man that the receptionist had seemed to regard as her executioner. She thought better of it as Dr O'Hara tapped his badge to the door lock and held the door for her, gesturing for her to take a seat at his desk at the far side of the room.

She walked ahead of him, feeling his strangely red eyes burning into her back.

Not red, she told herself. A weird brown like clay, people don’t have red eyes.

She slid into the chair, crossing her legs instinctively and placing her hands, one on top of the other, on her knees. It was a defensive position, closed off and protective of her core. Her green eyes followed him as he made his way to the mesh desk chair on the other side of the wide cluttered desk, too focused on deciding if he was a threat or not to take a good look at the rest of the lab.

Of course he was a threat in her mind, look at him.

Alexia launched into the empty pleasant words she knew most men with an ego liked. If she wanted to learn and drag herself into a new life, she could stroke some egos and make pleasant sounds at self important men. If she wanted to survive this world instead of rotting away on the streets, she had to stay on her toes. She couldn't afford Starbucks coffee, much less useless pride.

"I appreciate the opportunity to work with you-"

"Save the pleasantries, Ms Gates. We have a lot of work to do." Dr O'Hara cut her off mid-sentence, his tone sharp and biting,

Her eyes narrowed as her mouth slowly closed, forgetting those little niceties. Ok, maybe fuck not having pride.

"It's called manners, Dr O'Hara. Some of us have them," she answered, voice clipped, before she could stop herself. She knew her greatest downfall was her inability to shut up when annoyed. Even still, she didn't apologize or show any outward signs of regretting the words.

She could already tell the man in front of her wasn't used to getting any lip back, it would probably do him some good and humble him a bit if he didn’t fire her immediately.

Miguel, the name she had gleaned from his online bio since he hadn’t given her his first name, leaned forward in his chair, his eyes boring into her, "Ms Gates, let's be clear. I am not interested in your pleasantries or your opinions. I am here to work, and I expect you to get in line in my lab and not interrupt my day. I did not request an intern, nor am I interested in putting on a kids' lab day. You will stay out of my way and entertain yourself, making yourself useful whenever possible."

A shiver ran down her spine at his direct cold statement. His words had an almost rhythmic quality, the only hint at an accent that matched his tiger eye skin. She idly wondered why everything about him seemed hard as stone from his grinding voice, to his garnet eyes that definitely had to be a normal brown in a more natural lighting.

"I am not here to be your simpering lackey. I'm here to learn hands on and earn my credits, the actual point of an internship. I expect to be respected as a graduate intern who is here on merit and not pay, not treated like a clueless brat," she pushed back, unable to help herself even though every instinct in her told her to shut up or he would lash out and do what men do, take what they desire regardless of what she needs.

Miguel's eyes narrowed as he considered her words, "I respect your determination, Ms Gates, but I will not stand for insubordination. Here’s your first lesson, don’t talk that way to the person who will decide whether or not you actually get a job in this company."

"I will be your lab intern, run any tests or data you like," she agreed, but her eyes were still hard, matching the gemstone hardness of his eyes piercing into her, still determined to lay down her boundaries and not be dismissed when she knew she was worth this internship. "- but I am not some secretary or personal assistant. I do not run around for coffee orders or your dry cleaning."

Alexia was stubborn to a fault, her foot tapping in the air to an anxious beat and flashing the worn-out bottoms of her soles, unintentionally drawing attention to her less than fashionable attire. Dr O'Hara studied her for a moment, his face the picture of exhaustion despite the day just beginning.

“Well, you actually will be doing that. That’s what an intern is. Or did you think we just hired some fresh out of school kids for the fun of it?” he scoffed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“You take on fresh out of school adults to learn in the field so we can earn a paid position. I wouldn't call an unpaid internship employment, Dr O'Hara,” Alexia countered, holding perfectly still. She would stand her ground and not give him an inch, but she wasn’t relaxed enough to put on a confident swagger.

“Call it whatever you want, chica. I call it ‘being used’. Welcome to the real world,” he answered, his voice dripping with condescension.

“Oh, I am plenty experienced with how the real world likes to use people up,” Alexia scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “I was under the impression that Alchemax cultivates brilliance, not wastes it.”

“They like the idea of cultivating brilliance. But when it comes to actually doing it- well, that’s a completely different ball game.”

“Maybe drop the bitter tone when you are the one refusing to cultivate. You have one intern, not a herd like the other departments, I'm sure there are far more useful things for me to help with than running errands,” Alexia countered, hoping a little reasoning would work on her reluctant mentor.

“You know, you’re exactly like every other intern. You think you’re so special, that you’re gonna change this place, but you’re just the same as all of the others- in over your head and going nowhere,” Dr O’Hara observed with cruelty and his latin accent became a little more noticeable as his annoyance grew, “I bet in a month’s time, your so called ‘brilliance’ won’t be worth a dime and if anyone remembers you at all it’ll just be as the office coffee girl.”

“I won't be changing this place, but my work will change the world. Not because I'm special, but because I am determined and unlike the other pedigree kids, I need this. They can drop out and cry to their parents. I need the paid offer after the internship,” Alexia spat out, vaguely aware that she shouldn’t be showing so much frustration even as she leaned forward in her chair.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, cure Huntington's disease? You think we take pity on kids who need this? You think we’re gonna hire you just because you have ‘need’ on your resume? That’s not how it works, chica.”

“There is a difference between need and want, Dr O'Hara,” Alexia said through clenched teeth. “When an animal wants, it makes big pouty eyes and begs. When an animal needs, it will chew off its own leg. Nothing stands in the way of its need. I need this and that's what sets me apart. I will do anything I need to to learn and rise above.”

“Sounds like you’ve got drive, which is more than most people,” Dr O’Hara admitted, his brows rising slightly. Was he impressed? “Maybe you’ll make something of yourself in this world after all. But if you want my advice? You’d better take that energy you’re putting into selling yourself- and put it into not pissing me off.”

‘Selling yourself’, that hit a little too close to home for Alexia and she just barely held back a wince.

“Show me an ounce of basic respect for a mentee, and I will respect you as a mentor,” she countered, hating the common demand for respect by men worth far less than the clothes on their back.

“Oh, I see. You’re one of those. You want respect? How ‘bout earn it?” he smeared, his full lips turning up into an amused grin that was closer to a snarl.

“Ah, so you mean ‘treat me like a God or I won't treat you like a person’ when you say 'earn respect’?” Alexia leaned back in her chair again with a roll of her eyes, any hope for finding something worthwhile in the man in front of her gone.

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” the older man growled, clearly not enjoying the image she was painting of him. “If you want me to do something for you- like say, teaching you instead of letting you run and fetch- then let me see if you’re actually capable of doing things for me. You think I’m gonna tell my bosses and my colleagues that I should hire you because I feel bad for you? That’s not how things work here. So yeah, earn it.”

“Oh, I am more than ready to earn your recommendation,” Alexia said, standing up and placing her palms flat on his desk. “I am qualified for this internship, I can collect and compile data for you and make base analysis for you to review. I earned this internship by being at the top of my course. ‘Go and fetch’ unfortunately wasn't covered.”

“You know, you’ve got more spunk than any of these other interns I’ve had,” he observed, sounding near defeated or just exhausted. “Fine. Collect some data for me and write me up an analysis, and you can work with me in the field instead of doing coffee runs. You got 48 hours.”

Alexia nodded, a little self satisfied and victorious smile pulling at the corners of her lips. She felt proud for standing up to herself and, from all appearances, gaining an ounce of Dr O'Hara's respect.

Despite herself she felt a growing need for more than him simply relenting to her stubbornness. She felt a desire to make him proud of her as well. She wanted to be more than just an annoying student to him. Alexia wanted him to see her as a peer. As these thoughts swirled in her mind, she barely noticed Dr O'Hara walked around his desk and approached her.

"Now, let's get started on your training, Ms Gates."

She straightened her back as he walked up to her, feeling a tinge of nervousness at his approach. Standing straighter didn't exactly help all that much.

"What would you have me do, Dr O'Hara?" she asked, falling into the comfortable familiarity of referring to him just as she had her professors before graduating college. While she was now 23, it was hard to peg down exactly how old Miguel O'Hara was, though it was safe to say he had at least a decade on her. She couldn't help but feel intimidated by his height and presence, but she did her best not to let it show. Miguel looked at her, his eyes piercing and intense.

"Follow me, Ms Gates. I have something I need to discuss with you." He led her through the lab, his lack of hesitation showing his confidence that she would follow his orders.

Alexia did all but scramble after him, gritting her teeth in annoyance with his tendency to leave her behind and expect her to chase after him already. Within a few steps, she had caught up to him, so that she walked only a step behind him, glaring at the middle of his back, the pure white expanse of his lab coat annoying her.

As they walked through the lab, she could hear the sound of his leather shoes against the tiled floor, the sound echoing through the lab. Suddenly, he stopped and turned to her, his face unreadable.

"Ms Gates, I want you to lift your skirt." He said, his voice calm and collected, as if he hadn’t just made a demand so out of the blue, Alexia swore she heard a phantom record scratch. Maybe it was just the blade of disappointment that sliced through her mind, destroying the small inkling of hope that had warmed her only for a moment.

"What?!"

She had to skid to a stop, stumbling back a few steps. She realized they had gone around a corner, no longer visible from the only entrance in the lab. Her eyes burned with fury, her assumptions of him clear as day. She saw him as just another horny man who thought he could take from her.

But he pointed to a yellowed bruise on the inside of her thigh that was just barely visible under her skirt.

"I want you to show me the bruises on your body," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I need to know if they are a result of consensual... interactions, or if they are something else. As your mentor I have a vested interest in ensuring my employees are in a safe environment."

Alexia's face burned. Not just mortified but ashamed of how quickly he'd noticed, how careless she'd been. She was not about to admit to this intimidating stranger, a man she wanted to respect her, that there were many more and they had absolutely not been her choice. The absolute absurdity of this sudden shift sent her mind spinning.

"I think this is highly inappropriate, Dr O'Hara," she fumed, hoping her anger portrayed her as a woman who was embarrassed, not guilty of his assumptions. "I think what the state of my body is is none of your business."

Miguel eyed her as he considered her words. "Ms Gates, I am your employer, and I expect a certain level of professionalism and trust from you. I will not stand for insubordination or dishonesty." He stepped closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"And I will not be exposing myself at my workplace," she hissed between clenched teeth, her fists balling at her sides and refusing to back down even a single inch.

"You will not touch me, Dr O'Hara," she sneered, assuming his approach was to force her compliance. "You will not touch me, do you understand?"

He cocked his head, his nostrils flaring and it was as if her words were a physical strike that he flinched back from.

"Ms Gates, I understand a situation like this could be misinterpreted, but I do not intend to touch you. I assure you that when you show me these bruises, I will respect your boundaries."

To Alexia's surprise he clearly seemed offended, possibly hurt, at the accusation she had thrown her way.

Her face heated as she looked down, her eyes burning into his chest without actually seeing him.

"That bruise is the only one, a clumsy accident," she tried to explain, blatantly lying through her teeth and hoping he would just back off even if she had to portray herself as a clutz. "I'm fine, really. You don't need to worry about it."

Miguel crossed his arms over his chest, his face pulled into hard lines of barely controlled restraint. "Ms Gates, this is a non-negotiable for my employment. That was the last time you will ever lie to me," he paused, and Alexia could hear the unspoken threat hanging between his words. “Tell me you understand. If you wish to be taught by me, I need you to show me these bruises, otherwise you can leave."

It was unexpected for her, the mere option of refusing his demand. Of course, she would lose her dream if she did not comply, but he wasn't going to force her. He was giving her a choice.

"I understand," she gritted out, feeling so much more like a chastised child than a grown woman being told to expose herself, and somehow, as absurd as it seemed, it helped. It made her feel like he genuinely wasn't just trying to leer at her, but was a protective figure trying to gauge her situation to see if she was safe.

"What are you worried about?" Dr O'Hara asked, his voice kept low but it was impossible to tell if he was trying to be soothing or if he was holding back rage, maybe both.

"You, Dr O'Hara- you worry me."

"Elaborate, Ms Gates," he continued to push at her, making her open her thoughts to him.

“You’re smart and strict like my previous professors, you clearly have the qualifications and experience to be a fantastic mentor in this program, but you have the approach and temperament of a barbaric di-” she suddenly cut herself off, realizing she was letting her own temper get her into more potential trouble.

“Language is permissible in my lab, Ms Gates,” he allowed, apparently not considering her words a sign of disrespect this time. “As long as it’s used constructively.”

She narrows her eyes right back. “I was going to say dickhead, but I’m not sure if that's entirely constructive.”

“Give me an example of my alleged behavior, and I’ll decide.”

"You just hauled me around to a private corner and told me to lift my skirt with no explanation or warning beforehand. Asking about the bruise first would have been the least you could do," she snapped, fidgeting with the stretched hem of her skirt with her fingers.

“This is just an examination, for your own good. Nothing inappropriate," he insisted instead, his sheer mass uncompromising. “I’m waiting.”

She starts lifting the hem of her shirt up to uncover her torso, just below her breasts so he could see the band of her black bra but nothing more. Around her hips, only a few days ago, there were more bruises, clear marks of a painful grip but they had faded, he couldn't see anything.

"See, nothing." She said, her voice strained as she tried to keep it together. "I'm fine."

He lowered himself into a squat, his gaze traveling over Alexia's torso, the low waistband of her skirt, then dropping to the knee-length hem. “Now raise your skirt.”

His bent position puts him eye-level with her pelvis, despite his hulking size, and she was momentarily distracted by the soft curls of his dark brown hair, as if her mind was trying to slip away from this dangerous situation rather than experience it.

Physically, he was in an unusual position for a man in her experience. He was lower than her, his face below her waist. More vulnerable, right? She tried to reason in her own mind. Yet he was still trying to take in a way. Alexia could knee him in the nose and run. But the need or want wasn't quite rising up the way she expected it to.

Alexia bunched her skirt up with both fists, lifting it only three inches above her knees, stubbornly refusing to expose herself any more as she kept her gaze lowered, not meeting his eyes.

"Ms Gates, please. This is not an interrogation. I just need to know if there are any other marks on your body that should not be there."

His voice whispered roughly into the foot of space separating his face and her thighs. His hands were there, too, dangling between them, close enough to grab her between the legs if that was his plan. A slight tremble twitched through his fingers, and her shoulders tightened. She shook her head after hesitating, a clear lie but she couldn't voice it. She'd promised herself she wouldn't show weakness.

"Alexia," Miguel said, his tone becoming more stern, as he took in her discomfort. "Keep lifting your skirt."

Alexia took a deep, shaky breath, forcing herself to look down at him. She tried her best to focus past her humiliation.

She lifted her skirt more, until the worn out blackish gray fabric was just barely concealing the purple cotton of her panties.

“Widen your stance.”

She slid her feet out, wobbling with the effort just to keep breathing.

“Just like that,” he breathed, his voice as low as sin. “Good girl.”

His praise wrapped around her like a warm hug. Alexia couldn't remember the last time someone embraced her without hurting her, but if Dr O'Hara spent the next nine months calling her a good girl, she might never need a hug again. The sensation of fear and comfort was dizzying. Who was this man, and why was she not running?

He dipped his head, angling closer. “I’m looking for marks on your inner thighs.”

There were in fact more bruises, some more obvious in their origin than others. Some teeth and some hands. Others were just angry splotches of sickly color.

Alexia's face stayed carefully blank, not revealing the nature of the marks on her skin as she digested her own whirlwind of emotions.

Miguel's eyes scanned her body, his expression remaining as unreadable as her own.

"Alexia," he said, his voice low and commanding. Was that the first time he said her first name? No, he said it before too. She was again distracted, this time by the sound of her name on his lips. "I'll remind you that I need you to be completely honest with me, at all times."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, fighting to focus.

"Ok, Dr O'Hara," she answered, her voice stiff, only robotic as she stood in front of him, her thighs completely exposed, staring him down with her steely green eyes. "I understand."

Miguel nodded, his eyes back on hers, the impossible dark red hue seeming to boil with some heat she could not place with confidence.

"I need to know if these bruises are a result of consensual interactions, or if they are something else."

"I wasn't raped," Alexia said firmly, defensively even as if she was insulting her for even insinuating that 'weakness'. Everything in her face said she believed that she was being honest. But the lack of elaboration was concerning. She hadn't said no. She hadn't fought back. She had allowed it to happen. She had allowed it to happen again and again.

Miguel's expression darkened, his eyes never leaving hers. "You don't need to be defensive, Alexia. I just want the truth."

She pulled her skirt back down, preferring the anger that boiled in her stomach to the uncertainty of not understanding his motives and the feelings his words stirred in her.

"None of this is any of your concern, Dr O'Hara," she repeated, emphasizing his name to put distance between them when he had slipped into using her first name. "I can handle my own probleMsms."

Miguel took a step towards her, his eyes still locked on hers. "Alexia, you can't handle this on your own. You need help, and I'm here to give it to you."

"I am here to intern in your lab," she shot back, teeth bared like a snarling wolf. "I would appreciate it if we could refocus this orientation on your work in the lab and not my personal life."

Miguel's eyes narrowed, his words turning cold once more, "Don't try to change the subject, Alexia. I won't allow it." He takes another step towards her, his body tense as if ready to fight.

"You don't have a choice in what is or isn't allowed," she answered, standing firm but crossing her arms under her chest, feeling cornered despite having the option to turn and run. "I am just an intern here, Dr O'Hara. I don't have to submit to your demands."

Miguel's eyes flash with anger, but he quickly regains his composure.

"On the contrary, Ms Gates. This is my lab, and you are my intern. You will submit to questions and my interest in your safety, or you will no longer be my intern."

Alexia bit her lip, her eyes darting around the room as she contemplated her options.

"Fine," she snapped, her eyes meeting his again. He wanted to ask questions? He could ask questions. It wouldn't be her fault if the answers made him uncomfortable.

"I wasn't assaulted. I allowed it to happen. I allowed it to happen again and again," her voice was cold and detached, as if she was recounting a grocery list rather than speaking about something so personal.

"Unfortunately I don't take coworkers or supervisors as clients, so you're out of luck," she sneered, needing the biting edge to sooth her own insecurity, bring her back from the dark pool of dissociation that drew her in with a different kind of comforting embrace.

Miguel's eyes widened slightly, his composure broken for the moment.

"That's not what I asked, Alexia," he said, his voice calm but with a hint of warning. "I asked you to be honest with me, and I expect nothing less."

"I am being honest. Are you fishing for proof? Trying to see how open I'd be to you toying with me?" Her question sounded like a taunt, another jab to get him to back off, but something in her eyes said that was truely what she thought of him.

Miguel shook his head, his expression softening slightly. "No, Alexia. I'm not fishing for proof. I simply want to know what happened so that I can better help you." He stepped closer to her again, his eyes locked on hers.

This time she did step back. His tenderness seemed to scare her more than his harsh words. Anger was easy and predictable, his kindness screamed of tempting manipulation. A facet of masculinity she did not see often and trusted less.

"Fuck off, Dr O'Hara." She spat, turning to leave.

Miguel caught her arm, his grip firm but gentle.

"Alexia, please. Let me help you." He pleaded, his voice low and earnest. "I care about you, and I want to make sure that you are safe."

She huffed, indignant, and turned to leave.

A man she barely knew, caring for her? BS

Miguel held her arm, his grip firm but gentle, stopping her from leaving. "Don't walk away from me, Alexia."

She whipped around to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. His strength was overwhelming, even just his arm on hers wouldn't budge an inch as she tried to yank away. Still, this was much more comfortable.

"Don't enjoy the view?" She sneered. "You should focus on your work, Dr O'Hara. I don't need your protection."

Miguel's grip on her arm tightened, his fingers digging into her skin as he leaned in close, his eyes intense and focused on her.

"Here’s today's lesson," he erased the distance between them leaning into her space. "Don’t question me. Don’t lie to me. And never look away from me." He straightens. "Sit down."

He pulled one of the lab chairs towards them, angling it for Alexia to sit. They were ridiculous demands and yet she found herself sitting.

"If you slip up, I will punish you," he promised, his voice low and dangerous. "I do not accept excuses or sniveling. Any distractions, any problems in your life affect our lab work and I will leave my own welts on your pretty ass." He punctuated his words with an intensity and confidence that shocked her, had he really just said that?

Alexia swallowed hard, feeling a mix of fear and arousal. She hated being bossed around, but she also found herself drawn to the power in Miguel's words.

Her pupils expanded as she looked up at him. Approval shone in his face at whatever he saw in hers. He smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Good girl," he said again, the two words sparking through her veins. His voice had softened again as he released her. "Now, let's get back to work." He turned as if to go somewhere, but paused to look back over his shoulder. "And make sure you wear a damn damn lab coat."

It was far from the first time she had been referred to as a good girl. Generally the words felt demeaning, more insulting than genuine. The warm tension in her stomach, the tension that shot further down, made her crave those words in a maddening confusing way.

She shook her head, trying to shake off the feeling like a mutt shaking of the rain rain.

"I- I don't have a lab coat," she said, flushing with embarrassment.

"I didn't say you had to have one, you have to wear one," he said, his eyes holding on to her with a raised brow, not quite grasping what the issue was.

She felt the fire in her stomach lessen, but she still felt flushed.

"I don't have one-" she repeated.

"Get one," he interrupted her as if she answer was obvious and she was simply dull.

"Can it wait until the beginning of the month? I don't have the cash right now..." she clenched her jaw, muscles tightening. She'd been hoping to get a new pair of shoes now that she'd be on her feet all day again. Well, not new, just newer. She'd get lucky if she found a lab coat at goodwill with it not being Halloween.

Miguel sighed, his expression softening slightly but annoyance at this petty inconvenience pulled at his face, irking Alexia.

"Alright, I'll cover it for now," he said, pulling out his wallet. "But you have to manage your finances better. We can't have our brightest minds distracted by trivial matters."

Her pride choked her off, but not only her pride. In her life, there was only one reason a man did kind things, and that was to put a woman into debt to him so he could demand from her body.

"So kind of you," she said, sarcastically. "But I don't rely on charity, Dr O'Hara. I will keep your brilliant financial advice in mind."

Miguel narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening again.

"I don't give charity, Alexia. I expect something in return." He stepped forward, his body inches from hers. "And if you don't deliver, we will have a problem."

This time she did lean back, her hackles raised.

"That is exactly what I was worried about. I have no interest in delivering on any of your disgusting demands," she snapped back. It was maybe presumptuous of her to imagine his expected payment as lewd but that was her experience with life, the evidence of that were in the bruises under her clothes that he had seen. She couldn't afford to be naive.

Miguel's expression darkened, his jaw clenching with anger. "You have no idea what you're dealing with, Alexia," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"I think we both know that I have a very good idea of what I'm dealing with, Miguel," she shot back, matching his tone. If he was going to insist on using her first name then he would get the same, regardless of his preferences. "I will not be put in the position of being indebted to a man who thinks he can take what doesn't belong to him."

Miguel's eyes narrowed, his expression cold. "I will make you an offer, Alexia," he said, his voice low and calculated.

"Enlighten me," she ground out, too curious not to hear his offer though it was clear from the tension in her shoulders that she already planned to reject it.

Miguel took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly. "I will give you a clean slate," he said. "No more debts, no more bruises. I will help you rise above your circumstances and become the successful woman I know you can be." He paused, his eyes holding hers.

"I will be doing that regardless of your help," she answered stubbornly. It was a tempting offer, as Alchemax's top bioengineer Alexia had no doubt he was living comfortably. "What would you require for your generous offer?"

Miguel smiled, his expression confident. "Simple," he said. "A little obedience, a little respect. I will train you to become the best version of yourself." He stepped closer, his body inches from hers.

"Bullshit," she answered, standing her ground and squaring her shoulders. "You would require that regardless. Why would you give me a 'clean slate' for something that's already expected?"

Miguel shook his head, his eyes holding hers. "Because I know your potential, Alexia. I see it in your eyes when you talk about your work. And I want to help you realize that potential," he said, his voice earnest. "And I won't take anything that doesn't belong to me."

Alexia's sharp green eyes considered him for a moment. She still deeply distrusted him, had no reason to trust any man, but the offer was so tempting. She knew she was worth it, that she had things to offer this lab and the world as a whole that only she would be able to accomplish. She had no doubts about her abilities, only the chances of her surviving long enough to realize her potential.

"And what exactly does a clean slate entail?" she asked, the hesitation in her voice already giving away that she would cave and agree. She still believed Dr O'Hara would take advantage of her body, but what difference would it make if it was him or some guy off the street? She needed a chance to prove herself, and this seemed to be her best option.

Miguel smiled, his expression smug as he saw her stubbornness start to give.

"It means a new beginning, Alexia," he said, his tone condescending. "A chance to start over and achieve your goals. It means becoming the best you can be, free from any distractions." He stepped closer, his body inches from hers.

"I know what you're trying to sell," she retorted, annoyed. He sounded like a car salesman, raving about the features of the car when you asked for the price.

At least that's what she imagined a car salesman would do, she had never bought a car before.

"What are you giving? Clean slate? I'm not going to magically be able to pay my bills and be 'distraction free' just because you said so with an unpaid internship. If I had better options for a job I would have taken them."

He stepped even closer, his face only inches from hers. "You will work for me three nights a week, in exchange for room and board," he said.

"You want me to abandon my family to the streets so I can be an in-house prostitute?" She sneered, his assumptions about this 'work' he was offering clear.

Miguel's expression darkened. "Do not insult me, Alexia," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I have offered you a chance to change your life for the better. And you will not turn it down."

"I do not need your help. All I am here for is this internship under you. I will sort the rest out myself," she decided, stubbornly.

Refusing his offer was hard but she was far too proud to give in to the one person who's respect she wanted. All she could see now was that he was just like every other man, ignoring her true potential for a chance at her body.

Miguel shook his head, his expression twisting with disappointment.

"I warned you, Alexia," he said, his voice cold. "If you don't accept my offer, you will be nothing more than a used up, forgotten whore for the rest of your life."

Alexia's shoulders rolled back, stretching to her full height that was nothing compared to his. Despite her confidence and strength of will she was still small. She knew she should back down, but couldn't.

"That's where you're wrong, Dr O'Hara. My name will go down in history. I will far surpass any measly legacy you leave behind with your step stone findings or as my mentor," she answered, her eyes alight with that passion, a confident promise her father had whispered in her ear before he died. "My name will be in every textbook for the next 150 years."

Miguel's eyes narrowed, his expression a mix of annoyance and admiration.

"You are one stubborn woman," he said, his voice a mere mutter of frustration at her words. "But I admire your determination. I will give you one more chance to reconsider my offer."

"I am not interested in being your free use slut in exchange for a place to live. I don't need you to take care of me. I can take care of myself."

Miguel's e eyes filled with a dangerous intensity. "What is giving you the idea that I want you to prostitute yourself to me? Is that how you make money now?" he asked, his voice a low growl. He had assumed that she had an abusive boyfriend or something similar. Her immediate assumption of sex in exchange for his help opened up other possibilities.

"What I do outside of this lab is none of your concern," she repeated her earlier words, but there was uncertainty in her eyes. He didn't just deny her allegations, he was disgusted. If that wasn't his intent then what was? Was he really different? "I will not be in debt to you."

Miguel shook his head, his expression unreadable. "You are far too proud for your own good, Alexia," he said. "But you will learn humility under my care. You will learn to respect those who help you, and be grateful for what they give you." He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And you will earn my respect."

"And I can do all that the normal way, without you demanding to see my skin or forcing me to live where you want me to live," she stood her ground.

"You don't truly understand what I'm offering you, Alexia."

This time, Alexia finally took a step towards him, refusing to let him intimidate her.

"Then explain," she demanded, eyes cold. "Stop being vague and threatening and explain exactly what you're offering me and what you expect me to give as payment for your generosity."

Miguel took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly. "I'm not asking for anything in return, Alexia," he said, his voice calm and reasonable. "I simply want to help you get to where you want to be in life. And I can offer you the resources to do so." He gestured towards the lab around them.

Alexia looked around, her eyes gave away her thoughts. She wanted to believe him, she wanted his words to be true and to finally have a little help in the world.

"I can't trust that," she said, her voice surprisingly soft, even in her own ears. It felt like a confession more than a rejection. "Nothing is free."

"Go home, Ms Gates," Dr O’Hara ordered, but there was none of the expected rejection in his own voice.

Alexia looked up at him, her eyes wide not in confusion but fear that he was firing her, judging her not worth his time. Why did this man have to be the only one alive who's approval she sought?

"Think about what I'm offering, get yourself a lab coat, and come back tomorrow morning," her mentor listed another few orders, his voice and the sheer exhaustion in his shoulders hinting at some line of thought that Alexia couldn't begin to guess at. "8:30 am, sharp."

5 notes · View notes

foxxydevil · 2 years ago

Text

Lace & Silken Shadows

So this is a lil something something I'm cooking up because I have mega brain rot. This should be a longer fic, maybe even pretty slow burn-y.

Fem!OC/Miguel O'Hara third person dark romance + superhero shenanigans

Word count: 8.6k

Content warnings ⚠️

Past child abuse, sexual trauma, prostitution, discussed current sexual abuse, mild injuries due to abuse, abuse denial, age gap, mentor/student relationship, BDSM

Tell me why?

I don't like Mondays

Tell me why?

I don't like Mondays

I want to shoot

The whole day down

Accepting the scholarships to go to college had been stupid, even if it had covered some living expenses, but an unpaid post graduate internship?

Alexia's mom's screams of how selfish she was still stung in her ears.

Her heavily pregnant sister-in-law's sneer burned into the backs of her eyes.

“Selfish little princess.”

“So you're just going to let us all starve for your useless BS?”

“I have done nothing but care for you under this roof since dad died. All you do is take and think you're so much better than us.”

Their own little girl

Sweet 16 ain't so peachy keen

No, it ain't so neat to admit defeat

They can see no reasons

'Cause there are no reasons

What reason do you need?

I can give you at least 3 good reasons, Bob Geldof, she thought as the band launched into the repeating chorus once more and the train drove into a tunnel, transforming the window into a dim mirror.

Fuck, were the bags under her eyes always that obvious? And were the windows smudged or did her bun really have that many drab colored flyaways.

And daddy doesn't understand it

He always said she was as good as gold

And he can see no reasons

'Cause there are no reasons

What reason do you need to be shown?

Sorry daddy, it's been a couple of years. You probably wouldn’t recognize me anymore. I had to sell all my gold to keep the house.

It was a bittersweet feeling thinking of her dad today. He may not recognize her, but she hoped he would understand what she had to do, that she had to do it for both of their dreams to come true.

Growing up, before she could even walk on her own, her dad had taken Alexia to work with him, boasting about how she was a junior engineer, and someday, she'll work there too.

And today was that day.

Of course it wasn't the first time she had stood in this very spot. Aside from the interviews for the internship, her father had been one of their top engineers. He'd even run his own lab.

Was that a sympathetic or pained look in her eyes? Oh shit-

The look the receptionist gave her was definitely sympathy, that and pity. The look one gave someone who was terminal.

A deep voice called out to her from a nearby room. "Hey- are you the new intern?"

"Yes! Alexia-"

Her hand stretched out in an offered handshake. "Alexia Gates."

The man stared at her hand for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he reached out and gripped her hand firmly, his gaze returning to hers.

"Dr O'Hara," he answered, his voice low and gravelly. "You’re early, that's something. Let's get to the lab."

"Right, yes. The lab," Alexia agreed.

She walked ahead of him, feeling his strangely red eyes burning into her back.

Not red, she told herself. A weird brown like clay, people don’t have red eyes.

Of course he was a threat in her mind, look at him.

"I appreciate the opportunity to work with you-"

"Save the pleasantries, Ms Gates. We have a lot of work to do." Dr O'Hara cut her off mid-sentence, his tone sharp and biting,

Her eyes narrowed as her mouth slowly closed, forgetting those little niceties. Ok, maybe fuck not having pride.

She could already tell the man in front of her wasn't used to getting any lip back, it would probably do him some good and humble him a bit if he didn’t fire her immediately.

“Well, you actually will be doing that. That’s what an intern is. Or did you think we just hired some fresh out of school kids for the fun of it?�� he scoffed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.