#the summary i posted on nano is no longer... a thing... at all

[unicorndolls]

I guess this is my little RIP to NaNoWriMo post.

★ 4 projects, 5 years, all hit 50k!

★ total NaNo wordcount is 228,302 words!

my old progress blogs are still up, you can see them if you're curious! or you can just skim this post on my art blog that I made with very short summaries of them!

Running With the Fish (2010) A Mile in Your Shoes (2011) Stealing Eden (2012/2013) Hearts Untamed (2023)

my most fond memories of NaNoWriMo was the first year, 2010. I'd just moved out of my parents' after graduating college and stayed in that town. I'd go to the campus library to write, up in the archives, and work on my mermaid story, the first thing I'd ever written that wasn't fanfiction.

and for a couple years after that, my sister and I both did our NaNos, sending each other the daily writing, and emailing back and forth line-by-line reactions, questions, and squeeing. (I HIGHLY recommend this approach to writing btw) one of those years, my sister wrote the first draft of her now-published YA novel, Instructions for Burning the World!

anyway, it's been a really good time, but until there's one major event that most people are doing at the same time again, I'm gonna continue writing now and then. I've been writing a good bit lately - haven't added it up but definitely over 15,000 words in the last month. all on Hearts Untamed stuff. I'm writing in short scenes or snippets, or longer chapters, out of order, which I've never successfully done. but I think it might be a good way to do this story that I'm p much writing just for myself anyway lol.

anyway, I owe NaNoWriMo a lot of my OCs that actually have a story around them (many of my OCs are just for drawing). it's a really nice thing to have.

art under the readmore! <3!

[audreyrosebooks]

Hi yes hello LOOK HOW PRETTY MY OUTLINE IS I tried zooming on the picture and you really can’t see a thing so no spoilers but i’ll probably take it down after i shamelessly show it to my writer pals LOOK HOW PRETTY

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Writeblr Introduction

I just realised I never did a writeblr introduction before 🤦 Better late than never, I guess.

Hello, anyone who reads this! I’m Nerissa, British, aro-ace, and my pronouns are she/her. I’ve been writing for at least ten years. My favourite genres are fantasy, science fiction, horror, and historical. This blog is a chaotic mix of my writing and anything/everything else I’m interested in, including films, C-dramas, and musicals.

My approach to writing is just “throw together all the things I like and pretend the result is coherent”. Every character is aro-ace unless otherwise stated, fantasy settings and supernatural elements are the order of the day, and watch me shoehorn in every trope I like while avoiding all the ones I don’t.

On my Wattpad, FictionPress, Royal Road and AO3 accounts you can find my WIPs of varying completeness and even more varying quality. The ones I’m currently working on are:

The Case Files of Seo Yo-han

This started out as a standalone. Now it’s a four-book series, and getting longer 😬 Short summary: Murder mysteries in an alternate history version of the early 20th century. Each book has its own intro:

The Unfortunate Moth

Silver Glass

Houses Full of Deceit

Mine Eyes Dazzle

The Power and the Glory

Very short summary: Necromancy! Zombies! Revenge! Really bad decisions! WIP introduction post here. Books one to four are finished. Book five is partially-finished and will be a future NaNo project.

Like Snow on Hungry Graves

Short summary: A man is set up for murder by his own father. A stranger offers to help him escape, and in return she wants him to help her find a sea monster. WIP introduction post here. Books 1 and 2 are finished.

Completed WIPs under the cut:

Death and the Emperor and The Brave Tin Soldiers Fall

Short summary: Originally an attempt at a gender-flipped Hades and Persephone. Turned into Alice in Wonderland meets Elisabeth das Musical meets god-knows-what-else in a Cdrama-inspired setting. No WIP introduction post for either.

Gracemeadow Manor

Short summary: What if I set a slasher movie in a haunted house? WIP introduction post here.

Totentanz

Short summary: Two enemies have to relive the same day over and over again until they stop killing each other, fix the mistakes that got them in this situation to begin with, and prevent an alien invasion. WIP introduction post here.

Death Waits for Some Men

Short summary: Two sisters plan to murder their father and stepmother. This is harder than they expect. WIP introduction post here.

[inherhouseshewaitsdreaming]

NaNo Prep Week #3 - Construct a Detailed Plot or Outline

NaNo Prep is a series of blog posts covering the NaNo Prep 101 curriculum which is a good outline of the things you want to do to get ready for NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month.

We’re into Week #3 now we’re looking at plot.

Resources

I would start here with Brandon Sanderson’s Lectures, Plot Part 1, Plot Part 2, and the Plot Q&A and Viewpoint. These effectively frame the elements of plot and plotting you want to look at. Don’t skip the section on viewpoint at the end of lecture three as its incredibly useful. With this as the starting point, the remaining sections are divided into Outlining, Plot Structures and Plot Archetypes.

Outlining

11 Steps to a Complete Cozy Mystery Plot from Jane Kalmes is a rare example of showing the outlining process in progress. I found another in a series of videos by Chris Fox called How to Plot a Novel From Scratch, but Janes has more re-usable structure. That being said, Chris seems to have another playlist that might be more structured, I just didn’t have time to watch that one too.

You can see the example outline to a Brandon Sanderson novel, Skyward, here as well as two failed attempts.

You can use any of the plot outlines as a framework for outlining your plot. Outlining is typically more than just the plot - it includes character and worldbuilding and, despite the artificial separation of these three, they actually bounce off one another a lot. The Jane Kalmes and Chris Fox examples show this.

Plot Structures

There are so many of these. Sanderson covers two of them in his lectures - the Heroes Journey and the Three Act Structure and videos on these are everywhere. Some examples: 3 Act Story Structure for Authors from Alexa Donne, 15 Beat Plot Structure from ShaelinWrites

Dan Well’s 7 point plot structure is based on the Star Trek RPG Narrator’s Guide and gets its own mention because of the RPG reference.

Katytastic’s 27 point plot structure, which is probably my favourite.

Adding to the above is the ever popular Save the Cat (which is also a three act structure). The main headings for Save the Cat appear in the Jane Kalmes video or you can google for a wealth of other material on this one. I have the book Save the Cat Writes a Novel, but you can find everything in it on Youtube.

For those who want a physical outlining method, I did like E A Deverell’s Plot Structure Zine. There is a video showing it in action on this page, as well as non-video based instructions. This gives you an 8 point story structure.

Plot Archetype

This as a concept is less spoken about and probably the main resource for this is Writing Excuses Season 11 on Elemental Genre. I did find a couple of books and an experiment where an AI ingested stories from Project Gutenberg. I also found quite a range in the number of plot archetypes from 3 to 1,462… A good summary of the 7 Story Types can be found in a this Reedsy video from Shaelin, but I didn’t find it useful for helping me plot my story in the way the Writing Excuses episodes do.

Another thing I do, that I think is similar in hindsight, is look at the website TV Tropes. Go there and look up a supertrope and you will find it broken down into sub-tropes and the myriad small tropes that make up a larger trope. These give you the building blocks of Plot Archetypes, including things that are more specific like Cosmic Horror. The website gives you lists of the component parts and, most usefully, long lists of the trope in various types of media to give you examples for further research.

How I Used Them

First I had a little crisis. In quite a few of the videos above, the authors talk about letting the plot develop in their heads over time. I’ve had the idea for the plot I am currently looking at for a grand total of 3 weeks, as opposed to the months experienced authors seemed to spend. Should I go forward with the new story or should I pick up something I’ve developed for longer?

Once I got past that, I tried a lot of different outlining methods. In the end I landed with the following:

Lots of brainstorming with no real structure giving me a very short outline of the main characters and themes. I iterated on it, writing it a couple of times. I liked the main plot, but it didn’t feel substantial enough. So I added a serial killer! It did fall logically out of the work I was doing, especially the worldbuilding. When trying to lay out the purpose of a group, it became obvious someone needed to be doing something proactive to achieve their goals. The killer is trying to prevent a terrible outcome by killing the people who would make it happen.

I then ran all the major plot threads through different approaches and found the ones I liked best.

Using Dan Well’s approach, at least in terms of order, was incredibly useful. I am so glad the Star Trek RPG references made me watch those videos. It gave me a very broad overview which I didn’t feel was enough to be my end product, but it really helped shape that end product.

I then wrote a plot outline much like the Brandon Sanderson approach, but with the following modifications:

Each major/side character had a listed set of “state transitions of Beginning, Middle and End, taken from the 7 point outline I had used.

I had a mapping underneath the plot bullet points that used the 27 point story structure from Katytastic against the main plot threads. This created a nice grid showing me where different things happened in the story. I numbered the plot bullets and referenced them in this grid too.

What I didn’t have time to do (because its barely Sunday when I write this, and I do try to post on Sundays) was to explore the plot archetypes more and I will do this over the next week. I’d like to look at each major thread, decide what its archetype is and look at those archetypes to see if there is anything I should add. For example, Sanderson mentions that a buddy cop plot is essentially a romance and since my lead characters are going to have that storyline, I want to see if I can learn anything from the archetype to enrich it.

[zentherainbowunicorn]

hey, bet you've got a whole bunch of asks just floating in out of your inbox like this already, buuut do you think you'll ever finish everlasting party? or even just do writing for the fandom again? your writing pieces were all so captivating and so beautifully characterized and JUST INCREDIBLE. even if you decide not to get back into writing it mind maybe giving some hints on how you planned for the story to go BECAUSE IM LITERALLY DYING TO KNOW. binge read the whole thing in one night and can't get over it!

You know, you’ve given me a great excuse to finally write a post about this anon, ‘cause I have a surprising amount to say on the topic ^^ But first, thank you so much for your kind words! I do look back fondly at the things I wrote for the Mystic Messenger fandom and I’m really glad you’ve enjoyed reading them as well.

So, here’s a Q&A-style answer to things I get asked about Everlasting Party and what I’m doing in the MysMe fandom nowadays (after the cut):

Why did you stop writing Everlasting Party?

At the time I believe I’d gotten rather overwhelmed with school work and decided to put off writing the next chapter until I felt like I had things better under control. Weeks turned into months, and because I hadn’t played Mystic Messenger in a while I started to doubt my ability to even finish the story I’d intended to tell. It became easier to just leave it “until I felt like coming back”.

But don’t worry too much about me - I’m doing pretty great nowadays, and I’ve even done a bunch of writing again in the last couple years (just not for MysMe, sadly).

Are you still in the MysMe fandom?

Yes, I am! I don’t post on here so much, but if you’ve been following my Mysterious Messenger posts at all (see the pinned post on this blog) you’ll know that I’ve been working on a Mystic Messenger-style engine since 2018. I tended to work on it in bursts throughout 2018 and early 2019 but for most of 2020 and all of 2021 I’ve been making daily updates to it adding new features, fixing bugs, and maintaining the code. It’s even got a novel-length wiki to go with it lol. I’m also collaborating with a group of people working on a free fangame that will use the engine.

Are you going to come back to Everlasting Party?

All right so this is actually a couple of questions in one. First, do I want to come back to EP? The answer is yes. It haunts me that I’ve left it unfinished and I sometimes get messages or comments about it and I want very dearly to have it finished so I don’t have this loose thread dangling about ^^;;

Will I come back to finish EP? I don’t have a concrete answer for this one because I hate making promises I can’t keep, but I’ll give you some information on my process for this:

I keep telling myself if I remake all the chatrooms for EP with my program (mentioned above), I have to finish writing EP.

I feel like I need to replay the games to re-familiarize myself with canon to properly write the characters again, but don’t really have the same drive to go through all the chats

It’s been a while and my writing style has actually evolved quite a bit (but for the better, I hope!). If I finish EP, there are earlier chapters I’d like to expand upon and potentially modify to flow better. I do worry though that earlier readers might not like the way I change it, but also, I have no idea how many of those people would come back to read the ending, really, anyway.

The good news, though:

I actually wrote 25k on EP during Camp NaNo in July 2020

This is EP’s current word count in my drafts (unedited):

EP is also no longer constrained by my ability (and patience) to make chatrooms at all anymore since I can generate them in mere minutes with my program rather than painstakingly editing them frame-by-frame in Photoshop

I would really like the satisfaction of finishing this story :P

So in summary anon: I am cautiously optimistic about the fate of Everlasting Party. And I actually adore messages like this that let me know people have enjoyed it and would be willing to come back if it was completed! ♥ The odds of me finishing it do, in fact, increase with each person who tells me this, ‘cause part of my worry is that it would be pointless anyway since it’s been several years and what if it doesn’t live up to what people imagined it would be...

Basically, even though I’ve written several additional unposted chapters of EP, I really want to have the whole story complete before uploading again so I don’t get anyone’s hopes up. That said, it’s also pointless to sit on another 25k+ of words if I don’t finish it, so... well, how’s this: if I don’t finish EP by 2022, then I’ll upload what I have written and write a note on my plans so people like you can have some closure.

Thank you again for this message! And if anyone reading this has read Everlasting Party and is also interested in the ending, I’d love if you’d send a message or comment my way with your thoughts ♥

[ellenembee]

Writing wrap-up and goals for the new year

2021 in Review

January through August of 2021, I did quite a bit of writing on both my original fiction projects and fanfics, but I had no way to really account for what I'd written. When a friend shared that they'd been tracking their daily writing through a spreadsheet, I thought... why not? I wanted to try to build writing into a daily habit, and this was a method I hadn't tried. So, in September, I started tracking. I specifically didn't create any goals beyond "do writing things" - editing, worldbuilding, and any other writing activity on ANY WIP - because I wanted this to be about the habit, not the result.

Four months in, it's worked better than I ever could've hoped. A side benefit is that I get to see how much I actually write. I only had 12 days out of the past four months where I didn't do some sort of writing activity, and my wordcount totals (including NaNo) are satisfying:

A big discovery for me was that hopping between fics - both original and fanfics - was necessary for me to keep my daily momentum. NaNoWriMo, though giving me a big bump in my original fiction wordcount, was draining in a way the months before it hadn't been. I actually wrote *more* words in October than I did in November, but the lack of switching up WIPs in November made writing feel like a chore by the end of the month. In December, I went back to my method and am much happier for it, even if it means finishing a single WIP will take longer.

I'm glad I tried NaNoWriMo at least once, but it's not for me. And that's ok!

2022 goals

Keep up my writing habit. As noted above, I finished 2021 strong, and I think I've found a sustainable method to carry me through 2022.

Finish Truths Half Told Beget Lives Half Lived - As part of my new method, I managed to get back to writing my Captain Rylen x OC romance in the Dragon Age fandom. I posted the first chapter of that fic on Dec. 25, 2016, so it's past time I finished it!

Complete the first draft of the first book in my original fiction fantasy/adventure series. I'm currently at 72k words (of expected 120-150k), and things are moving along!

Begin the second book of my fantasy/adventure series.

Begin writing a new original WIP. I'm considering my sci-fi/adventure/romance series, my Victorian swashbuckling ladies series, my urban fantasy/romance novel, or my stand-alone romance novel. We'll see which one wins out when I'm ready to start on a new writing project.

Write out the the Jaws of Hakkon arc for my long, long fic, The Revelation of All Things. You may have noticed in the image above there was some tiny progress on that this year. May 2022 bring much more and maybe even posting, too!

Work on any lingering fanfics. I have a couple of other lingering series/fics (including my Harry x Ryder fic), that I'd like to spend time on in 2022.

Allow room for inspiration to strike. Having too-rigid guidelines has always tripped me up in the past, so I want to go into 2022 being open to throwing all these goals out the window if inspiration strikes elsewhere.

I have a bunch of little things that I want to get to eventually, but these are the main things. I think I'm finally in the right head space to get through some of these (and to be okay with it if I don't).

If you see this and want to put a writing summary together OR if you already have one, feel free to tag me. I'd love to cheer you on in your writing goals!

[laedy-of-chaos]

Flames, Glitter and Everything Pink (Don't Mess With Me!)

Summary: Chaos descends when brothers are bored because to agreed upon are a truce and are no longer trying to kill each other... yet.

(Cross posted on Ao3 by me under LadyC_IsGoingSlightlyMad)

Chapter Summary: It's not a good idea to piss off your younger brother... especially when said brother is Optimus Prime. You would think Megatron would have learnt this by now.

Chapter One: The Wrath of Optimus Prime

It was just another normal day in HQ on Earth after the war between the Autobots and the Decepticons had been brought to an end via truce agreed upon by both sides, with Optimus and Megatron signing a peace treaty after becoming tired of the constant fighting and deciding there had been enough senseless death and violence, bring peace to the once war torn planet.

It was into the early cycles of the morning when everyone was suddenly awaken from their recharge by the sound of the usually calm and level-headed Prime bellowing "MEGATRROOOOOOOOON!" causing said mech to peak his helm around the doors to his quarters only to be met with this sight of his enraged younger brother barrelling towards him.

Now let it be known that the former warlord did not fear a great deal of many things in his long life, however a pissed off Optimus Prime was definitely on the list of things he does fear or at the very least worries about. And no, that was not denial on his part, they nowhere near that bloody river.

Megatron quickly ducked back into the safety of his room locking the door securely behind him before venting out a sigh, hoping that his little brother hadn't seen him. This secret hope was quickly dashed though by the sudden pounding against the door behind hind him that shock under the onslaught, the sound reverberating though both his quarters and the hallway.

"MEGATRON I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! I KNOW THIS WAS YOUR DOING, NOW UNLOCK THIS DOOR THIS INSTANT BROTHER!" Optimus bellowed at his brother, the loudness of his voice only slightly muffled by the door that stood between the two.

Everyone who had been awaken from recharge by the commotion were now looking into to the hallway and staring at their usually calm and polite leader in disbelief, as very few had ever seen him so angry before. Upon closer inspection the cause of said anger was clear; his brother had painted red flames all over his body on the previously unblemished paint work. This caused the others to try and with hold their laughter to varying degrees of success, for fear of their leader's wrath being turned upon them.

"Brother, was that an order just heard?" Megatron questioned. "You know I don't take well to being given orders," he added teasingly chuckling to himself when he heard a low threatening growl emanating from the other side of the door. Deciding to finally open up the door after a few nano-kliks had passed least he increase his brothers rage to greater proportions and said brother decides knocking down the door to the best course of action.

"Yes brother, what is it," Megatron asked in mock-innocence, biting down on his lower derma in a bid to supress the laughter that so desperately wanted burst at the sight of the Prime's expression.

"YOU THINK YOURSELF TO BE FUNNY, DO YOU BROTHER?!" Optimus retorted with a question as he picked the former tyrant up by his neck cables with a single servo all the while a low growl permeated from his chassis deeper than even his normal baritone.

"Well yes actually now that you mention it... I do," Megatron attempted to say lightly, though his reply came out sounding slightly strained as he endeavoured to pull the servo pinning him away from his neck cables. However all this served to do was piss off the already enraged Prime more and the deadly gaze of his narrowed optics deepen to the point where one would think he were about to commit the rather unprimely and admittedly undignified act of fratricide.

"Brother, please if you would simply calm down and let go of me, I would gladly tell you why," the sliver war-frame begrudgingly pleaded to his brother's better nature. This too however had rather the opposite and unintentional effect that had been hoping for, as Optimus only tightened his grip further.

It was at times likesthese that Megatron internally cursed his unfounded ability as the elder brother to annoy the younger to the point of Optimus willingly inciting a physical altercation.

He fortunately, or unfortunately for some, spared from an untimely demise by Elita-One , who hot on the tails of her Conjunx Endurae noticed Megatron failing as the humans would say 'breath'. Elita laid a servo over her mate's spark resting behind armoured chest plates and gently turned his helm to face her with the other. After a klik or two of the pair gazing into each other's optics, communicating non-verbally via their sparkbond Optimus relinquished his hold, setting his older brother down with a sort of passive-aggressive gentleness.

Megatron massaged his sore neck cables with the digits of his left servo, and deceived to give his explanation, even if it wasn't wanted. "Well little brother when I called you a 'Flame Brat' you always object, say I can't call you that because you don't have flames," he said with a slight mocking-sarcastic lilt in his tone. "Well... Now you do," Megatron stated matter-of-factly sounding awfully proud of his self.

The sound of Megatron no longer being able to contain his laughter caused Optimus who had turned his back to walk away with his sparkmate to halt in his tracks. In a move so fast that no one realised what had happened until it was to late, Optimus gracefully turned on his pedes and no holds barred punched Megatron full tilt in the face plates.

"You had better keep your guard up brother, because... And I promise you this; I will get you back for this... And you will regret... Ever. Coming. Up. With. This... idea." the Prime hissed venomously. "Do I make myself clear brother?" Optimus asked in a surprisingly calmer manner than before, that sent chills down the back struts of everyone present, which was something they thought only Megatron himself was capable of.

Upon receiving a nod of confirmation, Optimus swiftly turned back around and left with Elita to parts of the base unknown.

Meanwhile Megatron stood in stunned silence, along with everyone else, with a black shocked expression covering his faces plates as they watch the two sparkmates walk away.

[bardic-inspo]

Fic Writer Interview

Thank you for the tag @deacons-wig!! :)

Tagging in turn: @pchberrytea, @diredigression, @gingerbreton, @tanaleth, @valkyriejack if you’d like! No pressure if you don’t! Name: Megh

Fandoms: I really only write for Fallout, but casually partake in other fandoms (like Crit Role, Mass Effect, DA). 

Where you post: AO3, which you can find right here. I don’t post full fics on Tumblr, but do include links to them on AO3. Any WIP memes like WIP Wednesday or similar deals are posted on my Tumblr. 

Most Popular One-shot: No Rest For the Wicked - a sort of pining thing about Deacon showing up to MacCready and Natasha’s place after the fall of the Institute and some sleepy encounters putting Deacon in close proximity with the pair he’s maybe sort of secretly in like with. Overtures of future polyamory and all that. Your gateway drug into my favorite OT3.

Most Popular Multichap: Bring the Gasoline - my multichapter, in-progress slow-burn MacCready x Sole Survivor fic. Here’s a summary for you:

“Six months, huh? How much fast talking did you do to get here?” “Enough to keep me alive.”

“Really? Cause you don’t act like that’s your goal half the time. Hell, you throw yourself at everything like you’re jumping off a cliff.”

Sole survivor Natasha Sokolova is burning through friends faster than she can make them. Robert Joseph MacCready needs all the caps he can get. Problem is, the smooth-talking woman with a pistol and a job offer turns out to be more trouble than he’s counting on. They’re a match made in hell, but their little partnership might be the only thing that can see them through it.

Favorite story you’ve written so far: Bring the Gasoline is my baby, but so far I think I’ve had the most fun writing No Rest for the Wicked. It was the first thing I posted, nobody really knew I was working on it, and there were zero expectations about it. It was something I wrote purely because I wanted to and no other reason. It was also a huge sigh of relief for me to even hint at what the endgame of Bring the Gasoline is like because I’d been hermit drafting for a year while keeping my trap shut about most of what happens.

Fic you were nervous to post: All of them, every single one.  I was a bit nervous about In the Name of Love because it’s sort of an awkward situation. My goal was to balance the awkwardness with tenderness and show a sort of realistic moment where the OT3 have a little hiccup getting used to each other, but they’re helping each other through it. Not everybody’s cup of tea, but I do like how it turned out.

I was also super nervous about We Never Go Anywhere Nice because I’ve never done a gift fic before, and I was kind of trying to do a lot within one oneshot. Naturally, it turned out to be far longer than I initially envisioned, but I’m happy I tried my hand at it.

How do you choose your titles: Whatever strikes me. I try to do something thematic. For my BtG chapter titles, I try to play to themes or something a character says that sort of embodies the idea of that chapter. For my one shots, I’m okay going a little cheesier. 

Do you outline: Yes, I do, but I’m sort of ass backwards about it. I have three different outlines going on within each other like some sort of 3D chess operation. I have a pre-outline, which is the outline before I draft the chapter, usually broad or tentative plans with some specifics but not a ton. Then I have my working copy, which is literally in brackets within the document I’m typing the chapter in, and then I delete it out as I progress pass those plot points. And then, when I’m doing revisions, I bullet point every single little detail into a document called “Actual Outline”. I do this specifically in between drafts as a way for me to find plot holes and fill gaps, or see where things maybe need to be changed. Sounds a little backwards, I know, but it has really, really helped my editing process. There’s color-coding for who’s POV it is, and a scene-by-scene breakdown.

Complete: I have two complete one shots, and a third completed three-chapter “one shot”. But, the series those are nested in is ongoing and has no definitive end. It’s just sort of as I feel like it right now.

In progress: Bring the Gasoline is the only major fic I have in progress. I do one shots as they sprout in my brain, but I don’t have any in progress right now. My main focus is getting edited ahead one chapter on BtG so posting comes a little easier in the future.

Coming soon/not yet started: BtG chapter five is about halfway through a new draft, though I’ll want a new draft of chapter six before posting it. I’m making steady headway there. I have a very smutty WIP in mind for the OT3 with a special focus on Nat/Deacon. The prompt is that the two of them are spending a weekend away together, but MacCready has left some specific instructions as to how he wants them to spend some of that time. Like I said, it’s smutty, but I also want it to be sort of emotionally smutty. I wanted to write the OT3s first time together before writing any other smutty one shots for them, but realistically, I need to finish BtG before that could really happen, because spoilers, so it’s this domino effect waiting game. Which...makes me want to just go ahead and write the smutty one shot anyway. So, maybe. We’ll see. 👀 I also have another idea (also smutty) that might be a one-shot or a scene in a future fic. Basically, Nat and Mac and trying to have some intimacy but Deacon is staying with them which makes things tricky. So they seize the opportunity when he’s stepped out for a sec...but, maybe he’s not gone so long as they were thinking.

Prompts?: I sometimes use prompts as a springboard of inspiration, but I’ve found I’m no good with requests. I have a hard time writing something that I’m not personally excited about.

Upcoming work you’re most excited about: I am really excited about the Gunners plotline for Bring the Gasoline. It’s my first real foray into canon divergence, and the arc I finished for NaNoWriMo last year, so it’s sort of near and dear to me. And it’s right around the corner - not so far as readers might think!  👀 

This is so, so far away, but I also have tentative plans that are starting to have some framework for a multi-chapter fic on how the OT3 get together after Bring the Gasoline. I have a secret wish that this could be my NaNo project next year, but that would involve getting a lot done with BtG, so we’ll see.

[a-walk-in-silence]

Coffee To Go

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary: There’s a war looming over head, and with 0 new notifications from Steve, you might just be stuck dealing with the situation with a newfound friend.

Warnings: Infinity War, cursing, mentions of wounds (not very descriptive), character death, crying, abandonment

A/N: Welcome to the sequel that I've promised for over a year! I suck, ik, but at least it's here now! Yay!

Previous Part | Masterlist

You were in the middle of your daily morning routine, humming peacefully to yourself as you prepped breakfast, the gentle smell of coffee wafting through the air. This was your usual routine, only ever broken when Steve would somehow manage to sneak his way into your New York apartment once every 3 months. But it had now been 5 months, and you weren't sure if you'd see him again. Something was brewing. It all felt… wrong. Maybe it was the nerves, but it had been around 2 years since the Avengers split, and there wasn't anything world ending in that time. Sure, there had been that thing with Spider-Man and the Vulture in Queens, but overall, it had been really quiet.

You hated when it was quiet.

Call it nerves, but you now always had a fight bag packed, ready for action. Tony had helped you prepare the bag during his free time in between international affairs and being the mentor to a plucky upstart superhero with a knack for ending up in dangerous situations. But, overall, the two of you had managed to make a DoomsDay bag that would put the military to shame. It was ready for anything, with a custom suit that could withstand space built in. You were ready for whatever was coming. Just not for how it would come about.

A yellow ring started to appear in your dining room, drawing your attention away from the berries you had been cutting. Inside the ring formed some kind of portal to another room where you could very clearly see a ruined staircase and a few people standing around. One of them was very obviously Tony, and you could have sworn that one of them was Bruce. But Bruce has been off planet for 3 years. The other two were people you had never known, but you were certain that they had been included in one of Fury's debrief emails that he sent you whenever something went down.

Tony and the taller of the two strangers turned to look at you. Tony looked agitated, like he had just been rubbed the wrong way. But he still forced a smile and beckoned you to join them. "We need that brain of yours, Americana. Apparently that thing we've spent years prepping for? It's happening."

Your blood ran cold as you looked around your apartment. This was definitely not good. Nope. Bucky needed someone to take care of him. And what about Steve?

"Fuck, let me get my bag," you mumbled, rushing away from them. You slung the bag over your shoulder and walked out the front door, knocking on your neighbors door. He opened it, raising and eyebrow at you in curiosity.

"Doomsday?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing a robe, ratty tank top, and faded pj pants. He always wore this in the mornings when he would come over with his 6 year old daughter, bringing groceries that you had given him money for (as well as a little extra for him and his daughter to go out to eat whenever they wanted). He was always helpful, given the fact that she couldn't go out in a world where she was always remembered as Steve Rogers girlfriend, only good for knowing his whereabouts.

Yeah. Like he told you where he was. Ever. He hadn't even responded in the past few months. He was just gone.

"Doomsday. Can you take care of Bucky while I'm gone? I don't know how long I'll be gone or…" you trailed off, unable to say just what you were feeling. That you could not come back. "Just… here's the key to the apartment. Thank you, Bobby. Really. For everything. Tell Penny I said bye, okay?"

He looked solemn as he nodded, taking the apartment keys from your outstretched hand. "I promise."

You gave him a firm nod, complemented by a forced smile. With that, you returned to the apartment, walking into the portal where Tony was bickering with the other two men about Ben and Jerry flavors based off of the Avengers. Tony thought his flavor was great, but clearly they disagreed.

"You know, personally I'm a fan of Chocolate Garcia, no need for a reminder of the people that aren't even around," you said, grabbing the gloves that you and Tony had been making for the past few months before dropping the bag on the ground. "What's the situation?"

"Thanos," Bruce said, speaking up from where he was kind of curled up on the bottom stair, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. "He's not a good guy. Really big and purple. He beat the Hulk like it was nobody's business. He's after the stones, and we currently have two of them here, on Earth. He already has two, and he's coming here next."

You looked at Tony. You both knew this was coming. But geez. This was a mess. And neither one of you knew where any of the Avengers were. "Well then, I guess we're going to have to give him the news, Stark."

"The news about what? Your boyfriend being awol?" he snarked before raising an eyebrow. "Or that the Avengers would prefer it if he just didn't?"

"Tell him that the Earth is closed to outsiders, obviously." You gave him a smirk and he laughed in response. "Besides, how fast can he even get here?"

You really need to learn to bite your tongue sometimes. Truly. Because the moment those words left your mouth, everything started to crash outside, followed by screaming and running feet. Everyone ran outside, and you followed, grabbing your bag as you went. Outside, the streets of New York were in pure chaos. People running, crashed cars, knocked over lamp posts. Oh, and a giant doughnut in the sky.

You followed the group, running the other way from the chaos to see two aliens walking down the middle of the street: weird alien Hulk and Squidward from Spongebob. As if reading your mind, Tony spoke up.

"Hey, Squidward! Yeah, sorry, Earth is closed today. Yeah, we're not accepting outsiders at the moment, there's kind of this issue with boy bands breaking up and the world falling apart and we really just don't need this right now." You stifled a laugh as you turned away for a moment, garnering the attention of the lanky weird one.

"She smells of the space stone," he remarks, eyeing you up and down. "An old guardian, perhaps. Clearly she has failed. No less." He looks towards the tall "wizard" as Tony referred to him as. "You have something we require. We ask for you to hand it over."

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward. "Sorry, the wizard isn't in a sharing mood. Thanks for asking, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Silence your pets, holder, and speak for yourself." You glowered at Squidward's response, remaining quiet but not for much longer. So Dumbledore better speak fast.

"You can't have the stone," he said firmly.

Well, all hell broke loose at that point. The wizard got knocked out, Bruce couldn't beef up, the Spider kid showed up, and now you were on a spaceship, having just gotten rid of Squidward and saved the wizard, now known as Doctor Strange. Yep, that's why you forgot the name. Because it was his ACTUAL name and it was such a bad name. You made sure to try and remember it.

You were sitting alone in a corner, staring at the phone that had started ringing the moment you hit space. It had been Steve. You wanted to answer but the cell service died the moment it started ringing. Your heart was hurting, but luckily the nano suit covered your face for the most part. No one could see you falling apart even though you very much were. You hoped he would be safe, but you knew he was an idiot and would run head first into the fight, especially if he didn't know if you were safe or not.

Tony joined you, taking the phone from your hand. "He hasn't been around for several months. Him calling was probably because Bruce took the flip phone Steve gave me and called him. He has his own problems to deal with. Ours is to safely land wherever the hell we're going and to keep the good Doctor from handing over the stone."

You shook your head, trying to contain the laughter you felt bubbling up inside. "We both knew this was coming. I tried to reach out and tell him to prepare or to even come back with the other Avengers so we could face this thing together. And he wouldn't pick up my calls or answer my texts. But I still miss him, Tony. He's my Pepper. Or I'm his Pepper. I don't really know." You looked at your companions as Strange meditated and the Spiderling bounced all around, reenacting the moment he was deemed an Avenger in a silly way. He bounced and bounced and bounced. He reminded you of Bucky on catnip, and the time Bucky bounced so high up that he came crashing down into the coffee maker.

The coffee maker. Crap! You left it on!

Groaning, you leaned further into the wall. Tony raised an eyebrow at you, brown eyes studying your expression to see if he could understand what had you even more upset than Steve ghosting you.

"I left the coffee maker on. And I didn't even get to have coffee. This sucks." You pouted, causing Tony to laugh. Coffee had become your bloodline while the two of you worked hard on developing your suit. And Tony was the exact same. Neither one of you slept, simply staying up and tinkering, planning Doomsday. And now neither of you would have coffee for a very long time.

"Guess you had a late start today, then," he chuckled, watching the other two. "Can't blame you, of course, given the fact that I haven't even slept yet. Ended up working late last night on the kids Iron Spider suit, last minute tinkers. Stayed up all morning until Pepp forced me to go for a jog with her." He rubbed his face, the exhaustion now clearly prevalent. "I don't know how long our trip is going to be but I can't sleep, not with you and the kid on the line. The Doctor is a bit of a prick, maybe we can let him slide, but not you two."

You gave him a half hearted smile before looking back at the Spiderling. "I can watch him, and I know how to wake you up if shit goes down. I'm sure one mention of the Captain's name will wake you up in a fit of blind rage." The two of you laughed before things fell quiet again. "I've got this. And, after this all is over, we'll go back home to Pepp and Bucky and just live out the rest of our lives. You'll get married and I'll just be a miserable old bat waiting for a text back from someone who has more outlaw things to handle. It'll be fine. We'll all be fine."

Glancing back at Tony, you saw him peacefully asleep. You smiled to yourself before returning to watch the scene in front of you. Peter seemed to keep himself thoroughly entertained, and Strange seemed to be going over things in his head. It was peaceful. Well, it would have been peaceful if you weren't hurdling through space on a giant space donut.

A few hours passed until it was very clear that this ship was going to land and you had no clue how to do that. Strange wanted to stay off on his own and Peter was definitely freaking out. So you had to do the only thing you knew how.

"Tony, wake up!"

He jolted up, looking around. He took in his surroundings and what was displayed on the giant screen in front of him and was quick to react. He started barking orders as you, Peter, and Tony all tried to maneuver this flying machine to a safe landing which ended in a near wreck. The screen died as you all collapsed onto the floor, unsure what to do next.

Well, next deemed itself worthy of deciding for itself as three people- well, one person and two aliens- jumped onto the ship from the giant holes created from your shotty landing, aiming weapons and trying to fight you. They didn't look like any of the Thanos goons you had met thus far, but who knew why they were there? All you knew was that they attacked you so you had to get even.

The final shapedown of the fight ended with Peter being held by the supposed captain of this enemy group, the big buff guy being pinned down by Tony, and Strange holding the weird bug chick. And then there was you, your Star Wars-esque gun at the ready to shoot whomever moved first. You had the Spiderling to thank for the design, it has inspired Tony to make it.

"Where is Gamora?" the Captain once again yelled, prompting you to point the weapon at him.

"Yeah, I'll do you one better, who's Gamora?" Tony asked, a giant blaster canon pointed right at the big buff guy.

"Well I'll do you one better," the big buff guy said, trying to lean himself upward, "why is Gamora?"

You slowly blinked before turning to Tony. "Jesus christ, please blow up the goon before he says something even more idiotic."

"Do it!" the buff guy challenged, laughing maniacally. "I can take it!"

"No he can't!" yelled the bug chick. She fought to free herself from being held, so you turned your weapon on her to keep her from trying to move.

Tony lowered his helmet, looking the captain in the face. "Look, we don't know any Gamora. We hijacked this spaceship when Squidward stole our wizard friend because he has a shiny stone that some Thanos character wants."

The captain tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Wait so you're not Thanos' goons?"

You were about to speak but Peter piped up, his helmet disappearing. "We're the Avengers, man."

"From Terra? Hey, Quill! These are your people! These weak, pathetic flesh bags are indeed your kin!" The buff guy cackled as you pointed your blaster at him, eyes never leaving the Captain.

From behind you, you heard Tony speak up. "Again, I have the blaster pointed at you and can shoot you at any time."

"Terra? You're from Earth?" You looked at Quill in confusion. Yeah, he looked human, but he wasn't anyone you were aware of. And you were sure that there wasn't many Terrans that were running around the galaxy.

"I'm from Missouri," he spat, trying to make it seem as if he wasn't from Earth. Jesus, they were a bunch of idiots. Maybe Gamora had been the common sense of their group. It would certainly explain a lot.

You could hear the eye roll from Tony as he spoke up next. "Yeah, Missouri is on Earth dipshit."

Once everyone had calmed down and managed to talk through everything, they ventured outside to look at the barren red planet. You weren't sure just what had happened here, but you knew it wasn't good. Ancient buildings were decayed, the metal turned red due to the air. And, oddly enough, it was breathable air. Maybe all those sci-fi movies had made it seem like any alien planet would be lethal to humans, but you could definitely breath here. If anything, the air felt a little heavier than it did on Earth.

"What's wrong with your friend?" asked the bug girl, or Mantis as her friends called her. You turned to see her pointing at Strange, who was levitating and twitching erratically as he apparently used the stone to do… well, you weren't sure. It was a time stone, so maybe he was looking in the future?

Tony grabbed his shoulder, lurching him back to the ground. Stephen gasped before looking around. "What happened, doc?" you asked, walking over to the commotion.

"I was using the time stone to see into the future." Ha! You were right! "I saw 14,000,036 different endings of how this fight with Thanos will go."

He went silent, contemplating everything he had seen. You looked around, no one seemed ready to jump up asking questions, so of course you were going to do exactly that.

"Well? How many did we win in?" you asked, cutting the silence off. A few dirty looks were thrown your way, but you ignored them. "Look, if you know how we win, then let us know. I don't know about the rest of you, but I have a cat to get back to, and a friend's wedding to attend. I'm not really in the mood to stick around here and die so if the good doc would kindly share the information he's holding onto, then we can all move on with our regularly scheduled programs."

"Are all Terrans this bitchy?" Drax asked, his face perplexed.

You raised a fist, ready to punch the beefy Guardian when Tony grabbed you, pulling you away. "No fighting, children. Strange, how many endings did we win in?"

"One."

Oh for fucks sake-

"One ending? Out of 14 million, we have to get everything right? I expect answers now, then! I want to know how to win. So what's the game plan?" You tried to walk over to him, but Tony held you back. "How do we win?"

He looked pained as he glanced at Tony over your shoulder. "If I tell you, we lose."

You threw your hands up in the air, frustrated with all of this bs. "Fine, fine! Whatever! Sit there, be silent while we try and get that one ending to save this whole universe. I hope we do it right, otherwise we're all screwed, Strange, and it'll be your fault." You glowered at him before turning to look at Tony and Quill, who were standing off to the side. "What's the plan?"

And so, everyone sat in a giant circle, save Stephen, who knew he couldn't reveal the way to win. The plan was relatively simple, with Stephen helping you to teleport around since the boosters in your suit weren't anywhere near as powerful as Tony's, plus you weren't used to flying in a suit like this. So Steven was there to help you, while also doing his part in restraining Thanos. Both Peter's were supposed to be running major distractions, Mantis was supposed to stay back, and Tony was running big attacks with missiles and weaponry he had worked into his suit.

And, when Thanos finally showed up, you could agree with Bruce's assessment he had given you in New York. Angry, giant, grape man. Definitely someone with his morals all kinds of wrong. His logic was also just… wrong. Even if he got rid of half of the Universes population, the universe would be able to up the population within a hundred years. Resources wouldn't be affected, at all. Not in the long run. Why not just double them? Why kill trillions of people?

Yeah. This guy was an idiot. You definitely needed to take him out before he went after your idiot.

And the battle was… rough. Pleasantries ended when Strange refused to give up the time stone, and a battle started. The mad Titan used the stones to push your group to the limits, tossing everyone around as if they were ragdolls. And when some blue chick joined in… things got even more insane. Supposedly her name was Nebula and her dad was Thanos? Well she clearly wanted him dead, so she was chill in your book. Plus she hit him with some weird spaceship thing and it was, admittedly, very awesome.

And you guys had succeeded! You had him subdued with Mantis using some weird emotion power to keep him subdued. Peter and Tony were removing the glove, and Strange had him bound. You and Quill were each holding a giant leg in place, trying to keep him in place. But then Quill got up in his face.

"Where is Gamora?" he shouted, his fists balled up by his side. "Where is she?"

"Quill! This can wait a minute!" you snapped, trying to keep his leg in place.

"He feels pain, and sadness," Mantis said, her tiny voice carrying through the battlefield. And the wheels in your head were turning. You weren't sure, couldn't be sure, but you had a feeling that Gamora was no longer alive.

Quill looked confused until Nebula spoke up. "He went to Vormir with Gamora, and left with the stone. She… Gamora is dead."

You quickly jumped to your feet, seeing Quill reeling and ready to punch. "Don't, you can punch him later but we are so close. Please."

You reached out to stop him from moving on Thanos, but red fabric wrapped around you, pulling you away. You glanced up at Strange to see that his cloak was gone and he was no longer floating. Rather, it had wrapped around you, pulling you away from Quill. Strange shook his head, giving you a sad look before his cloak returned to him.

And then Quill punched, and punched, and he kept punching. And then he woke up. Tony and Peter were flung away, Strange was slammed into a rock, Mantis was knocked out and Quill and Drax were just gone. Nebula was fighting her father but was quickly subdued, leaving you to stare down the mad Titan.

"Your energies remind me of the space stone," he commented, watching you with interest. "It's ingrained in your DNA. Curious." He took a step towards you, so you raised your blasters in response. "Peace, human. All I ask is for the time stone, and you will be spared. You can even take your place as one of my children, saved from this. I'll teach you to take over the kingdom you will inherit from me. I can teach you the balance of the universe, how to reign the power you seem to possess. Just give me the stone, child."

You rolled your eyes at him, not impressed with his marketing campaign. "Yeah, sorry, not really interested in inheriting any thrones or anything. Also, I don't know what you mean about the powers because I'm just a human. So no thanks, not really wanting to hand over the stone that would lead to trillions upon trillions of deaths. Thanks, though." And, with that, a portal appeared under your feet, you fell through and landed on top of the flying donut wreck while Tony flew through, fighting Thanos. The fight was heating up as you watched, parts of Tony's suit disappearing as more of the nanos died from being ripped away.

But when he made a sword that Thanos snapped off, you knew you had to interfere. And so you flew down, grabbing Tony's arm and yanking him out of the way, willing your suit to disappear to create a shield to protect the two of you from the sword. But it disappeared just as quickly, and the sword dug itself into your side.

You gasped in shock, the feeling of metal inside of your body was very new. There wasn't necessarily pain, but you were sure that it was because of adrenaline. But you mostly felt… well weird but okay.

Well, until it was yanked out.

You collapsed on the ground, trying to perceive the shooting pain that was going through your body, followed by dizziness and the feeling of floating. You could feel the sticky blood as it pooled around you, unsure of just where it was coming from when everything hurt.

There were shouts and screams happening all around you as things happened, but you couldn't focus. Your vision was so blurry, and your eyes felt heavy. You wanted to fall asleep until someone slapped your face gently. A cool spray touched your side, and a bit of that lightheadedness seemed to fade, but you just couldn't focus.

"Vitals are low but stabilizing," said the voice of F.R.I.D.A.Y. in your ear. Your eyes fluttered open, seeing Tony crouched over you, checking you over.

"Tony, where… Thanos?" Your throat was raw and your head felt heavy. "The stone, he-"

"He got the time stone," he responded, not looking up from your wound. "He went after the last one in Vision's head. If he gets it… well, I don't know who's going to survive this."

Your heart dropped as Tony tried his best to keep you propped up against his chest. Tears were welling in your eyes. "He should have been here…" Tony just held you as you broke down. "They all should have been here. But they're not, and we lost. And he never answered my calls… or texts… he… he killed us all."

He didn't speak, just letting you cry it out as he tried his hardest to keep you awake. And then it happened. The people around you started to turn to dust. First Mantis, then Drax and Quill. Stephen disappeared, saying that this was the only way and that they were in the Endgame now. And then Peter. Tony held him as he cried, scared to not exist. He wanted to stay. He wanted to be there.

He was so scared.

You waited to see if something would happen. Minutes went by but the two of you, plus Nebula, remained. You were so tired, so exhausted, but you needed to get back to Earth. You needed to find a way home.

So you pushed yourself, despite the screaming in your side to just stop. You kept pushing to help them fix up Quill's ship, apparently called The Benatar. There wasn't much gas left, and maybe there would be some on this planet if you could just look…

But then your body just gave out, 20 feet outside of the Benatar. Your head spun as you tried to focus on something, anything. You could hear Tony's voice, but what it was shouting was unknown to you. You wanted to reach out, respond, do anything. But your body forced you into darkness, helplessly swimming and screaming for help.

You were lost before the ship even took off from Titan, trapped in your head and forced to try and escape the labyrinth of your own subconscious on your own.

----

Next Part

Taglist: 

@thedaydreamingwriter @hollandroos @tomhollandd

[jeranasblog]

Let your guard down

Notes: Welcome to my first Tumblr post ever. I’ve only used it for messaging before but decided to share one of my works. It’s basically 25k words of fluff and smut. Enjoy <3

A huge thanks to @twokinkybeans who encouraged me to share my work here.

Click here to read it on Ao3

Summary: Tony had long ago accepted that he had no soul mate. When a moment of weakness forced him to search for his perfect match, he found Peter Parker, a young man from Queens. Tony is horrified that the universe paired him with a boy, not even old enough to drink. Resisting could be so easy for Tony, if only Peter wasn’t so tempting. Now it was up to Peter to convince him that he deserved some happiness.

Chapter 1

 Tony Stark was a busy man. It wasn’t unusual for him to work more than twelve hours a day, his best friend Rhodey even jokingly claimed that he lived in the lab. Although it was meant as a joke, Tony needs to admit there is some truth behind it. More than once he has spent his nights on a sofa next to his workspace, going so far that he bought a sleeping couch at the end of his most elaborated project. But Tony is happy this way, at least he tried to convince himself.

 He had always been a workaholic, but after his divorce from Pepper six months ago, it had become only worse. The marriage between the two of them hadn’t worked out and the only thing Tony regrets is that he didn’t see it from the beginning. They were too different.

 Tony loved to work and travel, looking for a spontaneous partner who could keep up with him. Sometimes he would decide to fly to Europe the next day or to start a new project which takes hours of his sleep. He wanted a partner who wasn’t insecure in the relationship, who didn’t blame himself when Tony left the bed in the middle of the night only to work on another project.

 Pepper, however, was looking for a father for her children. She needed a man who was responsible and supportive. Someone willing to start a family in the next few years, and therefor Tony wasn’t the right one. Maybe, it would have worked out if they had met a few years later, but for now Tony wasn’t ready to give up his independency.

 Both had decided that they would remain friends. Although it didn’t work out, they had had a lot of fun together, and Tony was happy to call her a friend.

 He was still feeling bad about the divorce. The problem wasn’t losing Pepper, it was more about being alone. Tony had enjoyed spending time with someone, telling another person everything about his day or the progress he had made in the lab. Pepper wasn’t so much into engineering, but she was a good listener.

 Of course, Tony could start dating again. He loved meeting new people, taking them to expensive restaurants and learning about their lives. But Tony’s money made it complicated. He had met his fair share of gold-diggers only interested in his wealth or reputation. There had been a couple of young women trying to use his fame to start a model career. He had even dated a young man once who was only interested in Tony paying off his depts caused by his gambling problems.

 Sometimes Tony enjoyed such company, even though he knew they only go out with him because he was famous. It amused him to see their attempts to extract money from him. He had never paid more than the food of the evening, but they kept trying. Nevertheless, he wasn’t interested in a fling right now. He wanted to keep someone by his side and spoil him without being asked for.

 Tony sighed. Being alone sucked, but at least there was no more Pepper complaining about his hours of work in the lab. So he took the chance and locked himself in there, knowing he could work for hours without being interrupted.

  He was currently working on a new improvement for his Iron Man suit. Last time he had been on an Avengers mission, a drone had destroyed the chip that connected F.R.I.D.A.Y. to his suit and he had been unable to communicate with his AI. Although the suit had still been working, Tony preferred to rely on her when his life was at stake. Therefor he tried to connect Friday to every particle of his nano technology. It would take a lot of time, but he thought he could make it work.

 Tony turned on ACDC on a volume that would scare off any neighbours if he had any. After his divorce with Pepper, he had left their house in Malibu while he had kept the company and Stark Tower. Pepper could have insisted on a fair share of Stark Industries, but she understood that it was important for him. He still owned most of the company, while keeping her as the CEO. To be honest, she always did a better job than him.

 Tony had decided to move into the Stark Tower. It was empty anyway, except of a few Avengers who come and go as they please. He had enlarged the lab and had brought all the suits so he could work on them. He felt much more at home in the tower than he did in the Malibu house anyway.

 Five hours later Tony was still working in the lab. He hadn’t eaten all day, something Pepper had complained about very often. Sometimes she had ordered food for him so that he wouldn’t starve, but now with her gone there was no one but F.R.I.D.A.Y. to take care of him.

 That’s when he felt it for the first time. It started with a metallic taste on the back of his tongue. He was confused but kept working. When dizziness set in, Tony blamed the lack of food and ordered Thai from his favourite restaurant. Half an hour and a meal later, the nausea started and he could no longer work. He took a break and dropped onto a chair. When his vision began to fade he knew something was very, very wrong.

 Before he lost consciousness, he managed to get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to call Rhodey. After that everything went dark.

 ~*~

  When he opened his eyes again, everything was bright. He blinked and tried unsuccessfully to shut out the sun light that was burning in his eyes. It took a few seconds to get used to it, but then he began to see.

 He was in a hospital room. Everything was white and sterile and on his left side there was a huge window front. He lay in a bed that was set up in the middle of the room. It was untypically large and comfortable for a hospital bed, so he concluded that he was in a private and expensive room.

 The room was sparsely furnished with a TV, a closet and two chairs. He wasn’t alone in the room, Pepper and Rhodey sat by his side. Pepper sighed in relief when she saw that he was awake.

 “Where am I?” Tony’s voice sounded raspy, like he hadn’t used it in days.

 “Tony, I’m glad you’re awake. You’re in a hospital.” Rhodey explained and Tony had to suppress a snort. Of course, he could see that for himself. He wanted to know which hospital he was in, but there were more important questions.

 “What happened?” He didn’t really remember much. He’d tried to call Rhodey, and a second later everything went dark.

 “Oh Tony.” Pepper’s voice was shivering, and he could see she had been crying. “We don’t really know what happened. Rhodey and I were working when F.R.I.D.A.Y. called. You weren’t answering, so Rhodey asked her what was going on. She told us you were lying on the floor. Rhodey called 911 right away and then called me after. They took you to the hospital in a helicopter and here we are. Don't you remember anything?"

 Tony tried but shook his head after a few seconds. “I remember getting dizzy and then passing out, but I don’t know why.”

 Rhodey looked at him worried. “Maybe the doctors know more? We should've called them anyway, as soon as you woke up.”

 Tony nodded uncomfortably under his best friend’s gaze. He liked having attention, he didn't want to be the object of worry. Rhodey pressed a red button to call the doctor.

  A moment later, a middle-old man dressed in a white coat entered the room. He held a clipboard in his hand and approached them.

 “Mr. Stark, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

 “I’m okay, I guess.” Tony answered. “My head and my chest hurt, but I guess that’s normal, right?” He looked at the doctor who wasn’t answering his questions.

 Instead, he turned to Rhodey and Pepper. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I need to speak with Mr. Stark about his medical condition, but you're welcome to come back tomorrow.”

 Pepper and Rhodey nodded and said goodbye to Tony. Then they left the room, leaving him alone with the doctor.”

  “Well, doc. What’s up? Am I gonna be alright?” Tony was joking to cheer himself up.

 The doctor looked at him seriously. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Stark, but I think we have a problem.”

 “A problem?” Tony looked at him confused.

“I’m afraid your collapse wasn’t caused by your bad eating habits.”

 “It wasn’t?” Tony knew he sounded stupid at that moment, but he didn’t care. A bad feeling spread through his chest.

 The doctor took a deep breath. “Have you looked at your arc reactor lately?”

 Tony shook his head and slowly lowered his eyes. The blue glowing tech in the middle of his chest was familiar to him, but as soon as he became aware, he noticed the change. When he first built the arc reactor, it had emitted strong blue light. Now it glowed only weakly.

 “I never noticed it.” He really didn’t. Even though he passed a mirror every day, he never paid attention to the tech in his chest. He hated this part of his body because it reminded him of his time in Afghanistan. A time he wanted to forget.

 “Do you know what’s happening, doc?” He looked at the man, unsure how he should feel.

 “We've run some blood tests. Your body seems to reject the arc technology. If you keep wearing it, you’ll poison yourself.” The doctor sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

 Tony’s blood ran cold. He knew what it meant. “But if I don’t wear it, the metal in my chest will slowly kill me.”

 “I am really sorry, Mr. Stark. If you continue wearing the arc reactor, the plutonium will poison your blood. You need to give your body time to break down the toxin. We can cut down the amount of plutonium to stop the poisoning process, but then the magnet won’t be strong enough. The metal will start to move towards your heart again.”

 Tony swallowed, he understood. “How much time if we reduce the amount?” He sounded cold and composed, even though fear was raging inside his body.

 The doctor couldn’t look him in the eye. “A month, maybe two.”

 Tony winced and went pale. He had expected the poisoning to be severe, but one month was a very short time. He took a deep breath. “What about a surgery to remove the metal from my heart?”

 The doctor’s face was filled with pity and the billionaire couldn’t even look at him. “There is an option, but the survival rate is about five percent.”  

 His emotions threatened to surface, but he fought them off with everything he had. He didn’t want to cry in front of the man.

 Fuck, he wasn’t ready to die. He was Tony Stark, he could have anything he wanted. He had more money than he could ever spend in his whole life, his friendships with Rhodey was better than ever and he was close to coming to good terms with Pepper again. His life had been better lately, but typically for Tony it couldn’t stay like that. Something had to come up to ruin everything.

 The doctor tore him away from his ugly thoughts. “There might be a way. Have you ever heard about soulbonds?”

  Of course, Tony had heard about soul bonds before, well everybody had. He was living in a world where the universe paired each individual with a counterpart, a soul mate. Almost every adult has a name written in black ink somewhere on their body, marking them for their soulmate. It appears as soon as your partner turned twenty-one.

 They say that such a relationship is a perfect one, that soulmates are meant to be together. There is a whole bunch of crappy romance novels out there about people finding the right one and living happily ever after. They say you know you are destined for each other as soon as your mate touches your mark.

 Tony didn’t believe in that shit. He couldn’t deny the lower divorce rate of soul bonds, but there were very few people out there who actually meet their soulmates. Your other half could be living in another country and it is possible to never meet them in your whole life. If the universe really intended a soulmate to be the only one, it would at least make sure you meet your other half.

 On top of that, there are many happy people in other relationships. Your soulmate may be a perfect match, but there are other good matches out there, other possibilities of happiness.

 Over the years Tony had received many letters from people claiming to be his soulmate. He had paid no attention to them; they were fake anyway. Because Tony Stark didn’t have a soulmate.

  When he was younger, he had hoped that one day a name would appear on his body, showing him his other half. Close to his twenty-first birthday he had spent days in front of the mirror hoping his body would reveal the name of his soulmate. But it never did.

 When he turned thirty, the first doubts came. Still no sign had appeared on his body, his soulmate had to be at least nine years younger than him. Now, just over ten years later, Tony was convinced there was no other half for him. There were a bunch of people who didn’t have a soulmate, or the mate had died before his twenty-first birthday.

 Knowing that he was not sharing a bond with anyone, his hope faded.

  “I don’t have a soulmate.” Tony said dryly. “There is no tattoo on my body. There never was.”

 The doctor remained silent as his fingers tapped against his clipboard. After several minutes he started to talk again. “It might be possible that your soulmate died, but it is also possible that he is not yet twenty-one.”

 Tony looked at him in disbelief as anger seethed in his chest. It was the first moment he was unable to conceal his emotions. “Excuse me, I’m over forty. How could my soulmate be younger than twenty-one?”

 The man tried to calm him down. “There have been cases where-“

 Tony interrupted him. “I don’t care about that. I won’t molest someone not even old enough to drink.”

 “So you prefer to die?”

 Suddenly all the anger disappeared. What remained was a feeling of emptiness. It took him a couple of minutes to think about his situation.

 “You see, Mr. Stark. Having a soulmate beside you will increase the chances of survival. The human heart is weak. It’s no problem to remove the metal in your chest, but your heart may be too weak to withstand the strain Having your soul mate by your side would give your body strength to endure the surgery.”

 Tony suppressed a snort. That sounded more like a shitty romcom or advice from a horoscope, but he didn’t want to die. He pulled himself together and looked the doctor in the eye. “All right, I'll give it a shot. Just tell me what I have to do to find out if I have a soul mate.”

 The doctor smiled, appreciating his decision to fight. “There is a possibility to find out the name of your potential match without him being twenty-one.”

 Tony raised his eyebrows.

 “It’s all about magic.”

 Tony groaned, he hated magic. He’s sick of all the sparkling magic shit. He is a man of science, always trying to solve a problem using knowledge that people can understand. But he had learned firsthand from Doctor Strange that sometimes it takes more to survive. He swallowed his stubbornness and looked at the doctor again. “All right, I need another sample of your blood. I know a magician who can help you with that, but it won’t be cheap.”

 Tony shrugged; money wasn’t important. “How long will it take?”

 The doctor smiled. “For you? One days.”

 After he took a sample of Tony’s blood, the doctor left his room. Suddenly Tony started to feel alone. He tried to hold on to the hope that there might be a soulmate for him out there. Still, as soon as he closed his eyes, he began to cry. He wasn't ready to die yet. He decided he wanted to fight.

  ~*~

 When Pepper first heard about the possibility that he might die, she started to cry. She was sitting on a chair next to his hospital bed when he told her what the doctor had said.

 “But there's a five percent chance, isn't there?” She asked between ugly sobs. “And maybe you do have a soulmate.”

 Tony who had been crying all night, felt drained. There were no tears left for him, but he still felt the full fear. He sighed. “Yes, Pep. But five percent is very low.”

 “But your soulmate-“ She tried to protest, but Tony cut her short.

 “I’m forty-two years old. What are the odds I have a soulmate who isn’t even allowed to drink?” It hurt, but he needed her to focus on the situation. There was no more room for hope, he had to decide what to do.

 “Pepper, I need you to promise me one thing.” He looked at her forcefully.

 She replied immediately. “Anything.”

 “Take care of the company in case I die, okay?”

 She started crying harder and shook her head. “You’re not gonna die.” She didn’t sound sure.

 Tony sighed. “It’s possible I’ll survive, but I have to make sure SI is in safe hands in case I don’t make it.”

 “Let’s wait for the stupid magician.” He decided. “If he doesn’t give a name, I’ll sign the company over to you.”

 Pepper accepted, even though she was still trying to convince herself he would be fine.

  She was still there, when his doctor entered the room followed by a tall, skinny man who was covered in black tattoos. Tony assumed he was the magician, what a cliché. He hated the man instantly.

 “Hello, Mr. Stark.” His doctor greeted him. “I'd like you to meet Mr. Lewis. He’s the magician I told you about.”

 Tony hid his distaste for anyone involved in magic and nodded at the man.

 “If you want the result to remain private, I have to ask your friend to leave now.” The doctor pointed at Pepper, but Tony shook his head.

 “It’s fine. She can stay if she wants to. I’d tell her anyway.” His trust made Pepper smile.

 “All right, Mr. Lewis. You can start now. Mr. Stark, I’m recording your vitals during the test.”

 The magician who had been quiet, turned to Tony after the request.

 “Good afternoon, Mr. Stark.” His voice was soft and friendly. “Let me tell you briefly what I intend to do. Your doctor gave me a sample of your blood yesterday. I will perform a small ritual to reveal the name of your soulmate. It won’t hurt much.”

 The billionaire tried to be hopeful, though he doubted he had a match. With a deep breath he dispelled the bad thoughts. “Is it a common to test for a match with magic?” Tony was proud of himself, there was no sign of sarcasm in his voice.

 “Of course not, Mr. Stark.” His doctor replied. “It’s only allowed when someone is facing death. On top of that, not everyone can to afford it.”

 Tony sighed. “Can we get it over with?”

 The tattooed man nodded and asked Tony to give him his wrist. Then he drew a symbol on the inside of his arm. He was disgusted to discover that the colour was a mixture consisting of his own blood.

 The feeling that flowed through him was strange. It was like a hundred tiny pinpricks on his skin. He shivered, not really hurt but uncomfortable. Slowly a part of his right forearm turned black, revealing a name written in intricate writing: Peter Parker.

  Tony was shocked and stared incredulously at his forearm. He had never expected to really have a soulmate. Fuck, he was bound to a child who wasn’t even allowed to drink. All those years, he had wished a name would appear on his body. Now, when he was forty-two years old, he found out that he actually had a soul mate long after he had accepted that he didn't have a partner. He waited for it to turn out to be a joke, but when he looked up he saw three bewildered faces.

 The doctor was the first to get a grip and he smiled at Tony. "Wonderful news, Mr Stark. Your chances of survival have increased dramatically in the last few minutes. Congratulations."

 Tony still couldn’t believe it and looked to Pepper for help. She understood right away. “Gentleman, would you be so kind as to leave us alone for a moment?” It was her business voice.

 Tony breathed a sigh of relief when the two man had left the room. “I really have a match.” He allowed himself a first glimmer of hope. “What am I going to do now?”

 Pepper grinned at him widely. “Tony, that’s great news. Be happy first.”

 He smiled carefully. Although he didn’t really want a soulmate who could be his son, he was relieved to know he had a better chance of survival.

 He pondered for a second before turning to Pepper. “Did I have anything with me when they brought me here? Anything that might have access to F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

 “I brought your watch. Would that work?”

 Tony smiled relieved and nodded while Pepper rummaged through her purse. After a couple of seconds, she took out his gold watch.

 “F.R.I.D.A.Y. look for a boy called Peter Parker. Limit the matches to possible soulmates.” Tony demanded. “Leave out everyone above the age of twenty-one and if there are more than one hits left, look for the one most likely to be my match.”

 “There is one Peter Parker who matches your description, Sir.” The familiar voice of his KI answered.

 “Great, give me information on him. Age, family, friends, profession.”

 Tony prayed that the boy was at least eighteen years old. It would be a scandal anyway, he could not hide his tattoo forever, but he did not want to be accused of child abuse.

 “Peter Parker is twenty years old.” Tony felt the tension of the last days taken away from him. When he looked at Pepper, she showed signs of relief in equal measure. At least his match was an adult. “He lives with his aunt in New York, Queens. His parents died when he was younger. Peter is currently pursuing a PhD in biochemical engineering at NYU.”

 Tony looked impressed. However bad the soulshit is, his soulmate and he seemed to share the same interest. That was something he could work with.

 “Anything else I should know about him?”

 It was a short pause before F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded. “Peter Parker is going to start an internship at Stark Industries next Monday.”

 Tony suppressed the urge to hit his head against the wall. Fuck, he was the boss of his soulmate.

  ~*~

   Peter Parker wore Anthony Stark’s name for everyone visible on his left wrist since his birth. Normally nobody was interested in a soulmark tattoo, it was a common occurrence that people have the black ink on body parts that everyone can see. Peter on the other hand tried to hide his mark as well as possible.

 The first time he had been bullied because of the tattoo was even before he had been in primary school. Not only was it unusual for a small child to have a soul mark on him (his partner had been over 21 when he still needed diapers), but the name on his wrist was Anthony Stark, billionaire and tech genius. Everyone thought Peter’s family had tattooed it there to marry him off wealthy.

 It wasn’t uncommon for parents to fake soul marks. There had been a couple of celebrity scandals where fans younger than twenty-one claimed to be the soulmate of the famous person. It turned out to be a lie when the celebrities touched the soulmarks without feeling a spark and they discovered it was just a normal tattoo. That leads to rich and famous people being more careful about soul propositions, usually waiting until their match turned twenty-one.

 Peter knew it, so he didn’t even try to contact the billionaire, he wouldn’t believe him anyway. Instead, he ignored all the stupid comments of his peers and got accustomed to wear a watch every day to cover his left wrist. The only three people who knew the truth about his tattoo were his aunt May and his best friends Ned and MJ.

 Although Peter had never met Tony Stark before, he already knew they had something in common. The love of science. While the billionaire was a successful owner of the tech company Stark Industries, Peter was studied biochemical engineering at NYU. He was almost finished, which is why he applied for a Stark Industries internship. Peter had hesitated in the beginning, afraid to work for his soulmate, but in the end it was what he really wanted. He would never meet Tony Stark anyway. Well, maybe after his twenty-first birthday.

  “Peter.” His aunt interrupted him from his thoughts. “You’ll never guess what I just got.” Peter who was sitting in the middle of his bed shrugged when she shouted from the kitchen. He hadn’t even noticed that she had come home from work.

 “What happened?” He asked as he sat down at the kitchen table with her.

 With a broad grin May, took out a letter. It was plain white, but in the upper left corner was the logo of Stark Industries.

 “Gimme.” Peter ordered and saw that she hadn’t opened it yet.

 May laughed and pushed the letter closer to him. Peter had no patience, so he tore it open.

 “Read out loud.” His aunt commanded.

 He cleared his throat playfully. “Dear Mr. Parker, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

 May only started to groan. “Peter, stop the Harry Potter references. You’re such a nerd.”

 “All right, all right.” Peter giggled before he got serious again. “Dear Mr. Parker, Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted for an Internship at Stark Industries starting Monday, the…” Peter looked at the words twice. “May, it starts in five days.”

 “Well, that’s great I guess.” She starred at him questioningly. “Monday’s not gonna be a problem for you, is it?”

 Peter thought for a second but then shook his head. “No, the semester is almost over. Won’t be a problem for me.”

 May stood up, walked around the table, and gave him a big hug. “Peter, I’m so proud of you.”

 He felt happiness bubbling in his chest. He was proud of himself, too. Knowing that one day Tony Stark will find out that he was his soulmate he wanted to achieve his goals before the billionaire did. He couldn’t stand people accusing him of being successful solely because the universe had matched him with Tony Stark. He wanted to show everyone, including the billionaire, what he was capable off.

 Maybe an internship at Stark Industries was not a symbol of independence from his soul mate, but Tony could not know anything about him yet. The tattoo of his name will be revealed on his twenty-first birthday, which was three months away. No, Peter had been accepted because of his abilities and qualifications. It was a satisfying thought.

  "Let's celebrate." May made a spontaneous decision, even though it was Thursday night and she had to work early the next morning. "How do you feel about pizza? You can call Ned and MJ and ask them over. How does a Harry Potter marathon sound?"

 Peter looked at her with big eyes. "But, May, you have to work tomorrow."

 She laughed and waved his hand off. "Don't worry about me. I'll leave you alone after the second movie so I can get some sleep."

 It didn’t take him twenty minutes to prepare for his friends’ arrival. The pizza was ordered, the couch was transformed into a blanket fort and the stack of his Harry Potter DVD’s was draped in front of the TV. The movie night could come.

Chapter 2

 When Monday came around, Tony was restless. He had been discharged from the hospital last Friday and had spent the whole weekend in the lab. Although his chances of survival were increased because of Peter Parker, there was still the risk that the surgery could go wrong. Therefor he had prepared everything necessary in case he died.

 First of all, he had instructed Pepper to destroy all his Iron Man suits in case he didn’t make it. He didn’t want the government to use them as weapons. Then he had documented his projects for Stark Industries in such a way that his company's engineers could continue his work even if he couldn't do it himself. On Sunday night he had called his lawyer to amend the will he had written a few years ago.

 During the weekend he had kept himself busy, but on Monday morning nervousness returned. He needed to talk to Peter Parker and put his future in the hands of a stranger. Death or trust. He didn't want either one.

  His mood was terrible when he started his working day. His employees avoided him; Pepper had probably warned them beforehand. He’s obnoxious when he’s having a bad day and she knew it. He carried an extra-large espresso while he went looking for her.

 Tony felt guilty and that was his biggest problem. He was never very good at dealing with guilt. He still blamed himself for selling his father’s weapons all those years and he thought he was responsible for everyone he couldn’t save during an Iron Man mission. On top of that, the divorce from Pepper was on him. Of course, they hadn’t worked out together, and there are always two people in a relationship, but it was his unwillingness to change that had led to an end. At least Pepper had tried to cope with him.

 And now, he was looking for his soulmate, who was practically a minor, just to save his own life. Tony didn’t want to involve more people in his mess and definitely not in Peter-college-student-Parker who wasn’t even allowed to drink. There was no other choice, but he swore to himself that he would keep his hands of the boy until he was twenty-one. He was convinced that it couldn’t be so hard to keep it in his pants.

  Trying to keep himself together, Tony knocked on Pepper’s office door. It used to be his office before he made her CEO.

 “Hi, Peps.” He greeted her with a fake smile on his face. “How’s the plan for today?”

 Pepper sat behind her metal desk and looked up from a pile of documents as he opened the door. “Tony, good to see you. You’re not even late. Everything ok?”

 “Never better.” Tony lied and sprawled himself on a chair opposite her. He took a big sip of his extra-large espresso and enjoyed the triple shot caffeine. Closing his eyes to savour the taste Tony put his legs up on her desk. She looked at him reproachfully but didn’t say a word.

 “Are you even allowed to drink that much caffeine? Not that it worsens your… condition.” She sounded truly worried.

 Tony snorted. It was an unspoken order not to mention his health and mostly Pepper and Rhodey complied with his request. Seemed that he couldn’t always be so lucky.

 “Peps, dear.” Even Pepper understood that his cheerily voice was fake. “I’m dying of plutonium poisoning, not caffeine.”

 She slapped her hand on her desk and the sudden sound made him jump. “You are not going to die.”

 Tony raised his hands defensively to calm her down. “Ok, ok. Just kidding. I’m not gonna die.”

 She looked at him, anger written on her face. “This is not a subject for jokes.” A few seconds later she started crying, rage completely forgotten. “I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t want to lose my temper. I’m just worried, all right?”

 Tony got up, walked around the table and took her in his arms. She clung to him as if he would vanish in the next few seconds. “I care for you, Peps. And I’m not planning on dying anytime soon, all right?”

 She nodded, took a deep breath and composed herself. “Tony, Peter will be arriving any moment for his internship. I will head him off and bring him to one of the conference rooms. You can just wait for him there.”

 The mention of the boy soured his mood a bit, but he knew he couldn’t avoid Peter. “All right. Thanks for your help, I appreciate it.”

 Pepper smiled encouragingly before she left him alone with his thoughts.

  Waiting for Peter Parker turned out to be one of the most uncomfortable situations of his life. If there was one thing Tony was afraid of, it was his thoughts, and when he was alone in the room, he had plenty of time to give in to them. He started to go crazy until a knock tore him from his thoughts.

 “Come in.”

 The door opened to reveal a vision of a boy stumbling into the room. Tony had seen many beautiful people in his life. He had dated a whole line of up-and-coming models. You'd think he'd seen everything, but nothing could have prepared him for Peter Parker.

 The photo of Peter on his driver's license that Tony had seen because of F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn’t do him justice. The boy was gorgeous. Milky white skin, high cheekbones and plump lips people would murder for. His brown hair was curly, and his brown eyes looked as if he was a reincarnation of Bambi himself. Tony was enchanted.

 The boy was wearing fitting dress pants and a white shirt, suitably dressed for an internship. Tony unconsciously licked his lips. The shirt emphasized Peter’s slim waist and broad shoulders and the pants did nothing to hide his muscular tights. To the billionaire, he looked like a boy straight out of his wet dreams. Shit, so much for keeping out the inappropriate thoughts until his soul mate turns twenty-one. Just great.

 “Good morning, I’m Tony Stark. Pleased to meet you.” Tony couldn’t smother the flirtatious undertone. He moved a few steps closer to the boy and hold out his hand.

 Peter stared at him somewhat confused and did not move for an uncomfortable period of time. His innocent eyes were huge, taking in Tony’s appearance. Luckily, the billionaire wore one of his best tailored suits. He couldn’t stop the warm feeling spreading inside him when the boy looked him over.

 After a few heartbeats Peter realized that he was supposed to shake the outstretched hand and he started to blush. Tony grinned smugly; the boy was wonderful.

 “I’m sorry M-Mister Stark, Sir. My name is Peter Parker.” His voice was trembling, and he squeezed Tony’s hand slightly.

 Nobody could have prepared the billionaire for this innocent touch. As soon as his fingers brushed against Peters, he felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine and his hand started to tingle. On top of that, he noticed a faint spark of arousal that startled him a little. How could a simple touch cause such feelings in him? Tony could tell by Peter’s hazy eyes that the boy felt the same.

 Tony quickly pulled back his hand, taking a deep breath to get a grip on himself. He remembered the boy’s age and the upcoming surgery. It was no time for him to lust after Peter.

 “Mr. Parker, nice to meet you. Mrs. Potts picked you up in the lobby?”

 Peter nodded, still with a confused look on his face.

 “And did she tell you why I wanted to talk to you?” Tony prayed she had already told the boy part of it, but according to Peter’s questioning face, she hadn’t.

 “No, Sir.” The boy replied overwhelmed.

 Tony took off his suit coat leaving Peter with mixed feelings of confusion and arousal. He saw Peter’s gaze linger on his chest where his shirt was stretched across his muscles. The marvellous starring made it difficult for Tony to focus on the conversation.

 Tony fixed his gaze on Peter while he was rolling up his sleeves, revealing his tattoo to the younger man. He could see how shocked Peter was as his eyes moved across his exposed forearm.

 “How is this possible.” Peter asked confused. “I’m not twenty-one yet. You shouldn’t be able to see it.”

 The boy came closer, slightly tracking his name with his fingers. Tony shuddered and clenched his hands into fists. Every touch of his soulmate set of a wave of arousal running straight to his neglected cock. The billionaire felt it stir in his pants and he bit his tongue to regain his control.

 The boy seemed to share his feelings, Tony could see his dilated pupils, drowning his brown eyes in black. He pulled his arm back abruptly. When Peter realized what he’d done, he blushed a deep red and stumbled an apology.

 Tony tried to distract himself from the sexual tension by focusing on explaining his tattoo. “Have you ever heard about magicians revealing soul marks?”

 The boy watched him expectantly. “Yes, it’s possible, but really expensive.”

 Tony nodded affirmative. “Well, there was an incident that forced me to look for a potential soulmate.”

 “An incident?”

 Tony cleared his throat. He didn’t want to tell the boy everything about his dizzy spell, but he had no choice. He leaned against conference desk and crossed his arms as a barrier between the boy and himself.

 “A few days ago, I passed out in my lab. Turned out I have a few problems with my arch reactor.” He unconsciously touched the middle of his chest. “Well, there’s no other way but surgery to remove the metal from my body that’s wandering towards my heart. Unfortunately, the chances of survival are slim unless I have a soulmate who’ll keep me company during the surgery.”

 Peter was at a loss for words. He was gaping at Tony like a fish and if Tony wasn’t so afraid of rejection, he would have called it cute. “Does that mean you could die?”

 Tony shrugged. “Possible, but unlikely when you stick by my side.” The billionaire sighed, swallowing his pride. “Peter, I’m really sorry to ask this of you, but there is no other choice.”

 Peters eyes widen before his face turned determined. He threw himself into Tony’s arm, clinging to him like an octopus. None of them noticed that a hug between them might be weird, considering they haven’t even met before today. “Of course, I’ll help you. I've waited all my life for this. Your tattoo was on my skin since birth.”

 Tony flinched at the words, reminded how young the boy was, but soon his emotions were taken over by relief. He relaxed in the embrace and began unconsciously stroking the boy's back. With Peter's help, his survival would be very likely.

 Tony rested his chin on Peter’s head, the gesture way too familiar for two people who had just met, but none of them cared. Tony felt as if gravity was pulling him towards Peter. He buried his nose in Peter’s curly hair, enjoying the sweet smell of the younger man. It made him dizzy with want.

 The boy pulled back a few inches from the hug and tried not to look at Tony. “I’m sorry, Mister Stark. I shouldn’t hug you like this. I just can’t control myself around you.” Shame was written all over his face.

 Though Tony knew he should leave it at that, he grabbed the boy’s chin forcing Pete to look into his eyes. “Shh, Pete. I guess, you feel it too. No need to run from me, my sweet boy.”

 Peters eyelid fluttered due to the pet name and a small moan escaped his pink lips. Tony couldn’t resist glaring at them. They looked pink and luscious and Tony lifted a hand caressing the lower lip with his thumps. They felt wet, probably from Peter licking his lips because of his nervousness. His cock twitched from the delicious sight.

 Slowly he pressed his fingertip into the wet heat, causing the boy to whimper his name. “Mr. Stark, please.” The boy didn’t even know what he was pleading for.

 Tony growled and lost his patience. He buried his other hand into the boy’s curls, tugging him closer until the smaller body touched his. Then he forced Peter’s head back and pressed his lips against the younger ones.

 He couldn’t stop the deep moan at the contact, swallowed by the boy’s mouth. Tony hadn’t believed in the soul shit before, making fun of all the shitty romance novels and the descriptions of the loss of control. But here he was, kissing a barely legal boy, unable to think about anything else than the wet hot mouth. His body was no longer listening to his command.

 Tony intensified the kiss greedily, sucking and nipping on Peter’s plumb lips until the boy moaned. When the boy’s lips parted, Tony sneaked a tongue inside. He explored Peter’s mouth inch by inch, caressing the boy’s tongue and encouraging him to kiss back.

 Peter wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck, leaning into the older man for support. He started to move his lips, kissing the billionaire back. Tony enjoyed all the small noises the boy made. He whimpered when Tony moved his lips and moan when their tongues touched. Peter was a vision straight out of Tony’s wet dreams, a responsive little minx.

 Tony wanted to bend the boy over the conference table, rip of his pants and burry himself in that tight little ass. He imagined how wrecked the boy would look, how he would take Tony’s cock and suck him in, clenching when he reached his climax. He had never felt so out of control, barely able to stop himself from fucking the boy in a room that wasn’t even locked.

 Tony pulled back from the kiss, lips wandering lower to suck bruises on the boy’s neck. He felt a possessive urge building up inside him, wanting to see more of his marks on the boy’s body additionally to his tattoo. Peter moaned as he sucked and offered his throat to him. It was tempting to lose himself inside the boy, getting Peter to call him daddy when he split him open with his cock.

  At first Tony didn’t notice when Peter started to move. He was too busy marking his skin to pay attention to the rest of the boy’s body. But when something hard was pressed against his legs, he saw Peter rubbing himself all over him. The boy was marvellous trapped in his arousal, his shyness long forgotten. The boy only listened to his instincts and soothed the pain in his middle by seeking friction from him.

 Tony pressed his leg against Peter’s clothed dick, giving him more room to satisfy his needs. He felt his own cock hardening in his jeans. Peter’s head had fallen back, his throat bared to invite Tony to leave more marks. He couldn’t resist.

 As the boy’s breath quickened up, he knew Peter was getting close. Although he enjoyed their little encounter, he was way too old to come from a little bit of friction. As alluring as Peter was, year of experience helped him to hold himself together.

 Peter, however, didn’t seem to heave much stamina. Tony needed to admit that he liked that his baby boy could come from rubbing against his leg. His effect on the boy was flattering. Peter’s movements became more and more uncoordinated as he came closer to the end and Tony grabbed his hips to prevent the boy from falling.

 After a long stroke, Peter cried out, his whole body tensed. He shook uncontrollably, slumping against Tony’s body with a content smile on his face. Tony watched the boy falling apart under his hands, looking perfect while he came. His cheeks were red, eyes blissfully closed, and his mouth formed a perfect o. He wanted to keep him in his bed forever.

 When the boy had clamed down, the billionaire kissed him on his forehead and helped him to sit down on a chair. His own erection hurt, but he ignored it. Peter grimaced when he felt how sticky his pants were.

 There was silence between them, only disturbed by Peter’s fast breathing. As the boy came down from his height, Tony’s remorse returned. Fuck, not only had he made out like a teenager at work, he had even taken advantage of his barely legal soulmate. Pepper would kill him.

 He felt the guilt returning, consuming him as it always did. The familar panic rose in him, leaving him with a sudden urge to leave. What had he done to Peter, to the sweet innocent boy? Only the fact that he hadn’t come or bend the boy over made it a little bit better. At least he hadn’t crossed the last line.

 He could not look Peter in the eye during his next words. “Mister Parker, I’m deeply sorry for my behaviour.” He saw the boy flinched out of the corner of his eye.

 “I’m really sorry, but I have to go. Work.” His voice sounded cheerful although he felt like crying. The excuse was horrible. “I’ll contact you about the surgery.”

 And then Tony left the room, still struggling with a hard one, and leaving a hurt boy behind. He really was a monster.

  ~*~

  His day had actually started quiet well before everything went south. May had woken him with a large cup of coffee, nothing better to start the day with. He had woken up early so there was plenty of time left to get ready unhurriedly.

 The subway had been on time, and twenty minutes early Peter had entered the Stark tower. The letter told him to report to the reception when he arrived. The secretary had called someone, leaving Peter to wait on a comfortable couch in the lobby.

 Ten minutes later, a beautiful blonde woman had approached him, and he had recognized her as Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries and Tony Stark’s ex-wife. He had unconsciously straightened his back. Surely, she wasn’t here to pick him up, that would be highly uncommon for someone in a position like hers, but she had walked over to him and had hold out her hand. She had told him something about a meeting that had left him deeply confused and had ordered him to follow her.

 Peter had been completely overwhelmed, following her like a biddy until they had reached a double wing door. Then she had knocked and left him alone, standing in an unknown building without a clue about what was going on.

 When an oddly familiar voice had told him to enter, he had stumbled into the room, greeted by the sight of Tony Stark, billionaire, sexgod and his soulmate. He had gaped like a fish, unable to form words and overwhelmed with attraction for the man.

 Before he knew it, he was confronted with Mr. Stark’s potential death and his own mind breaking arousal. His personal highlight of embarrassment had been him rubbing himself all over the billionaire until he had come in his own pants, leaving them sticky with his release. And then Mister Stark had left him alone in the room, probably disgusted by his slutty behaviour.

  Here he was now, sitting in an empty conference room with ruined pants and no clue how to get back to the lobby. He couldn’t stop the tears spilling from his eyes and he sniffled slightly. How could a day start so well and end so horrible?

 He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on them feeling like a small child. The only thing he wanted right now was going back to his bed, but he was trapped here on the first day of his internship.

  A knock on the door ripped him out of his thoughts. He looked up just in time to see Mrs. Potts opening the door.

 “Tony, Mr. Parker?” She asked, entering the room and her gaze fell on the lonely boy crouched on the chair.

 She sighed and closed her eyes at the sight of him, taking a deep breath before her face was filled with pity. “Mr. Parker, can I call you Peter?”

 He could only nod.

 “Let me guess, the conversation with Tony wasn’t that good.” She handled the situation as if it wasn’t the first of it’s kind. “He was an idiot, right?”

 Peter looked at her with wide eyes, but he relaxed a bit. “Well, yeah.” His voice was hoarse from crying.

 “Don’t take everything the man tells you serious, Peter. Tony has a good heart, but he makes terrible decision. Did he explain you the situation with your soulmarks?”

 Peter starred at her in surprise. He didn’t expect her to know about the shared tattoos but being the CEO of his company and his ex-wife, she was probably informed about what was going on.

 “I’m glad he has a soulmate, even though you’re much younger than he is. Aside from the surgery, he deserves to be happy. But I could hit his head seeing him fucking it up again.” She looked him straight in the eye. "Peter, Tony is a complicated man, he's consumed with guilt. He doesn't like that you're so young, but it's not about you, it's about your age. You understand that?"

 He raised his head and smiled at her, relieved that Tony’s doubts weren’t about his behaviour. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “I understand Mrs. Potts. Don’t worry, I’ll help with the surgery. I also understand that I’m very young compared to him which is one reason why I’ve never reached out with my tattoo. I’m willing to keep up with him, but I’m also a human being. I don’t want to deal with rejection. Apart from the surgery, he can contact me when he feels ready.”

 She smiled at him after his words. “Peter, you seem like a good young man with a lot of patience. Maybe you’re exactly what he needs. You can go home today if you want. Your internship can start tomorrow. And besides, call me Pepper.”

 “Thank you, Pepper. I’d really like to go back home.”

 She smiled and walked him back to the lobby. She even called a cab so he didn’t have to take the subway.

  ~*~

 After a shower to clean the mess in his pants, Peter was restless and didn’t know what to do. He flipped onto his bed trying to get work done for his PhD, but he couldn’t focus on the equations. His mind seemed to wander back to the events of the day. Although he knew now that Mr. Stark’s behaviour was caused by his own guilt, he was still a little embarrassed by his own behaviour.

 He had jumped the man as soon as possible, couldn’t resist the temptation. The feelings had been intense, way stronger than anything he had felt when experimenting with a couple of college boys. Mr. Stark hadn’t even touched him under his clothes, and he had already messed up his boxers. He blushed at the memory and felt the familiar feeling of arousal rising, but he gripped the base of his cock, willing the erection down. Although his body didn’t seem to listen to him, he was still hurt from the man’s rejection and didn’t want to give in to the pleasant feelings.

 Instead, he picked up his phone and called MJ and Ned via video chat. He could at least get rid of all the anger by talking about it with his best friends.

  They both picked up after the second ringing.

 “Hey Pete, what’s up?” Ned answered first, laying on his bed just like Peter. His phone was on his desk, showing Ned’s bed and his wall, which was full of the familiar Iron Man posters. Today, it made Peter cringe.

 “Shouldn’t you be at your internship?” MJ was sitting at her favourite coffeeshop, phone probably leaning against an empty cup. She had her headphones plugged in.

 “Well, Pepper Potts send me home.” Peter answered casually.

 There was a second of silence before his best friends started talking at the same time. “She did what?” MJ shouted, while Ned responded dreamily. “You met Pepper Potts, like the real Pepper Potts?”

 “OMG, Ned. I can’t believe it.” MJ sounded angry and in the background of her video, Peter saw a costumer in the coffee shop turning his head towards her. MJ didn’t care about the angry looks. “She is his soulmate’s ex-wife. Don’t worship her.”

 “But she’s hot.” Ned answered defensively which made MJ groan.

 “Ned, she is like a hundred years older than you.” Now all the heads in the coffee shop were turned to MJ.

 “She can still be hot, though.” Ned whined. “Besides. Tony Stark is older than her and you don’t complain about the age difference between Peter and him, either.”

 MJ took a deep breath, clearly calming herself. “First of all, Ned, he is Peter’s soulmate. That’s something else. And second, Peter is at least not fantasizing about him.”

 “About that.” Peter interrupted their bickering. “I might have made out with him today.”

 Ned gasped loudly while MJ slammed her head on the table.

 “You can't just drop something like that casually.” MJ complained. “I need details, like now.”

 Peter needed a second, not sure how to explain the mess of today. “Pepper Potts picked me up in the lobby today and walked me to a conference room. Mr. Stark was waiting for me. He had my tattoo on his forearm.”

 His best friends looked at him confused. “How is that possible.” Ned asked. “You’re not twenty-one yet.”

 Peter swallowed. “Have you ever heard about magicians revealing soulmarks?”

 He looked at his friends expectantly, but both shook their head. The concept wasn’t very common. “Under certain circumstances a magician is legally permitted to reveal a tattoo earlier.”

 “Which circumstances?” She seemed to have a hunch about the situation, looking at Peter as if she wouldn’t like the answer.

 “Death.” Peter answered shortly. “He needs a surgery to remove the metal from his chest. Something about his arc tech not functioning properly anymore. And without a soulmate who strengthen his condition, he might die.”

 His friends were unusual silent after he revealed everything and looked at him concerned. “But he’l make it with your help, won’t he?” Ned asked.

 Peter shrugged. “I think so, but we haven’t talked about it much.”

 “Busy with something else?” MJ scoffed, smiling at him filthy.

 Peter blushed violently and hid his face in his pillow. Why are his friends so embarrassing? “I wasn’t like that.” He explained himself before he really thought about the situation. “Well, okay. I was, but that's not why we didn't talk to each other.” It sounded like a lame excuse.

 “Of course, Pete.” MJ talked to him like a child, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Tell me, how far did you go?”

 “I might have creamed my pants.” Peter admitted quietly.

 MJ were laughing so hard that tears were streaming from her eyes. Peter heard someone asking her to be a little bit quieter, but she ignored the man, too captured in mocking Peter. Ned, on the other hand, looked slightly nauseous.

 “Pete, please.” He groaned. “Don’t tell me about this.”

 “Stop being such a prude.” MJ bickered. “You’re no better with Pepper Potts.”

 “I didn’t bang her, though.” Ned looked outraged, but Peter knew it was just for show. He was used to that kind of behaviour from his friends.

 “Only because you couldn’t.” MJ was joking. Even though Ned tried to keep up the façade, after a few seconds he stated smiling too.

 “You still didn’t tell us why you didn’t talk with him.” Ned asked curiously.

  Peters mood sank. His friends were good at cheering him up and he clearly needed advice from them on how to handle the situation, but Mr. Stark’s actions had hurt him. His friends could tell something was wrong because they were quiet once.

 “He might have left immediately after I’ve rubbed myself all over him.” Peter confessed quietly.

 “He did what?” MJ fumed.

 “After I…, well you know… Let’s say when I was done, he apologized and left. Some lame excuse about work. He didn’t explain anything, didn’t tell me how to contact him, he didn’t even look at me. He just left me sitting alone in an empty conference room. He hadn't even come yet.”

 In the end, his voice became more and more quiet. He could no longer look at his phone, busy drawing patterns with his fingers on his bed to keep his emotions in check. He fought against the tears which threatened to fall.

 “Pete, I’m sorry.” MJ said softly. “Do you know why he left?”

 Peter sniffed. “I talked to Pepper afterwards. She said Tony felt guilty about me being so young. He wouldn’t have contacted me if his life wasn’t on the line.” He took a short break to get his thoughts in order. “It’s just…, I don’t care that much about the soulstuff myself. I don’t want him to marry me or change his whole life. It was just… so intense. All I want is to get to know him and not being tolerated to save his life.”

 “I understand you. It sucks.” Ned had never been very good in cheering up. Still, Peter smiled a little.

 MJ seemed to be thinking about something, tapping her fingers on the coffee table and choosing her words carefully. “Peter, I’ll only tell you this once, before I continue insulting Tony Stark. It’s obvious his life hadn’t been easy and someone must force the man to be happy. Wait for the surgery to be over, wait until he's no longer afraid for his life. And then fight.”

 Peter looked at her confused. “You think so?”

 She sighed, took a big sip of her coffee and started to explain again. “Let him first think you're angry with him, prove to him you don't worship him like the rest of the world. After that, show him what he’s missing. And when you have him trapped in his feelings, force him to talk. Explain your feelings but let him explain his too. Just don’t give up your one perfect match only because he’s an ass.”

 Peter was silent. MJ was rarely so serious and her words had reached him. Was Tony Stark worth it? Of course, the man was intelligent and handsome, but was it enough? Was he willing to find out if it would be enough?

 “I’m not sure I want to fight.” Peter confessed. He wasn’t sure if he and Mr. Stark were a perfect match, they were living in different worlds.

 Unusually, it was Ned who finished the discussion. “I guess it’s on you to find that out.”

  ~*~

  A few hours later, when Peter tried to fall asleep, he decided that it would be worth it. It might go wrong, but he would always regret not having tried. His uncle's death had taught him one thing: Never miss an opportunity.

Chapter 3

 A week later, Peter was sitting in a private jet on his way to Switzerland. He had never left the country before, and it was the first time he had ever travelled by plane. His uncle Ben had died a few years ago and even before that, they hadn’t had enough money for vacation. He’d always thought his first flight would go to Mexico after he got his PhD and saved some money. He would have bought a cheap economy seat and would have probably been seated next to a family with children crying the whole time.

 What he hadn’t expected was him flying with Tony Stark’s private jet to a hospital in Switzerland before his twenty-first birthday. Pepper had told him that the best surgeons in the world were working in Europe and that they would therefore have to leave the country. She accompanied him during the flight, while Tony had already left a few days earlier. He had to be prepared for the surgery.

 Peter hadn’t seen Mr. Stark since the incident in the conference room, and he really tried not to get upset about it. The billionaire was avoiding him, but it was the wrong time to call him out on it. Peter promised himself to keep his emotion in check until after surgery.

 Pepper, on the other hand, had spent a lot of time with him. She had called him into her office almost everyday after the internship to talk about Tony. She had explained his actions once again, told Peter everything about the upcoming surgery and tried to get to know him better. She had asked him about his intentions with Mr. Stark, and he had told her all about his decision to fight.

 “I’m glad to hear that, Peter.” She had said smiling. “He deserves to be happy, although he’ll do anything to sabotage himself. Not many people in his life have tried to fight for him. Prepare yourself for a draining battle.”

 He had just nodded and promised to be as patient as possible.

  “What are you thinking about?” Pepper Potts, object of his thoughts interrupted him from those.

 He blinked and looked at her. “Just thinking about all the luxury.” He lied. “I’m not used to it; it makes me feel uncomfortable.” It's true he wasn't very fond of the display of money, but he was more concerned about the situation with Mr Stark.

 Yes, Tony had been a dick, but he was still Peter’s soulmate. Additionally, he was also a superhero who had saved a million lives, not only as Iron Man, but also with his clean energy. It was Peter's duty to save him and he was afraid that his presence would not be enough. There was still a small chance that he would die.

 Pepper had no clue what he was really thinking about. “Peter, you need to get used to the luxury. If he ever opens up to you, he'll spoil you terribly. Tony's way of showing his love is money and gifts.”

 Peter just shrugged at the thought. Having grown up without much money, he was uncomfortable with expensive gifts. “But to start everything with a flight to Europe, my first flight by the way, where I know nothing more about Tony than that he is in mortal danger is a bit much, don't you think?”

 Pepper only laughed. “With Tony Stark everything will be much. Sometimes you won’t know whether to punch him or hug him.”

 Peter grinned too and banished the bad thoughts from his mind. Maybe he should just enjoy the luxury and be optimistic.

  They arrived late in the afternoon, and a limousine picked him and Pepper up. They drove to an expensive-looking hotel, five stars of course. The lobby was designed in a marble look, with black curtains next to the windows. The stuff was dressed in shiny suits and even the guests wore fancy clothes. Peter felt uncomfortable in his plaid shirt and his worn out converse. He certainly stood out.

 Pepper smiled encouragingly at him and led him to the reception. A minute later he was holding a black card in his hands, probably the key to his room. She walked ahead and led him to the other end of the lobby towards the elevators.  

 “Guten Tag, darf ich Ihnen ihr Gepäck abnehmen?“ A pageboy approached them halfway and said something in German. Peter didn’t understand a word.

 “I am sorry, Sir. May I take your bags?” The man repeated and Peter gave him his suitcase with a grateful smile. He thanked him and Pepper tipped the pageboy. He’d never been to a hotel where he didn’t have to carry his own luggage. To be fair, he had never been in a hotel before, except for a school trip a few years ago.

 After the elevator door closed behind them, Pepper picked up a conversation. “Peter, the surgery is tomorrow morning. Happy will pick you up at seven am to drive you to the hospital.” Peter confirmed with a nod that he understood. “Do you want to eat dinner together?”

 He thought about it but shook his head after a few seconds. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Potts, but I’d like to go to bed early. Can I order something up to my room?” He was tired from the long flight, and the only thing he wanted to do before he went to bed was call MJ and Ned and tell them everything.

 “Of course.” Pepper replied. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” She smiled at him the last time before she left the elevator on her floor.

 When Peter entered his room, a big and fancy one of course, he couldn’t really appreciate it. Even though the bathroom looked like the cover of an interior design magazine, and the television was twenty times bigger than the one May had at home, the only thing he was interested in at the moment was the bed. He managed a quick call to MJ, Ned and May, but he fell asleep before he could call the room service.

  ~*~

 Peter felt anxious when he entered the hospital the next morning. It didn’t look like any hospitals he’d ever been to before. Everything looked more expensive, but also more comfortable. Instead of the typical white walls, the halls were painted in a warm beige and plants made it look livelier. The smell, however, was the same.

 He didn't even have time to look around properly until a man in a white coat approached him.

  “Good morning, Mr. Parker. I’m Mr. Stark’s personal doctor. If you would be so kind as to follow me.”

 Peter didn't have time to answer anything or he wouldn't have been able to keep up with the doctor. As they left the lobby and turned into a less crowded corridor, the man slowed down.

 He smiled warmly at Peter. “I apologize for the hectic greeting. Mr. Stark asked me to keep his condition under wraps. I didn't want to risk having other patients listen to us.”

 It made sense, of course. Even though Peter wasn’t very interested in business, he knew what a life-threatening illness of Mr. Stark could do to SI’s stock prices. On top of that, the billionaire probably didn’t want to deal with the media.

 “It’s all right.” He assured the doctor. “Can you tell me what I can do today?”

 The man turned right at the end of the corridor and instructed Peter to follow him through a door. They entered an office and the doctor offered him a seat. In the middle of the room there was a big wooden desk and when the doctor took a seat behind it, Peter felt as if he was back in school talking to the principal about his absence in class. He had skipped school a few times after Ben had died.

 “Peter, I need to tell you something about Mr. Stark’s condition. Are you familiar with arc technology?” Peter nodded, he had heard a lot about it during his studies, though he had never had enough money for plutonium to build one himself. “Tony has metal splitter in his chest that are wandering to his heart. The arc reactor works like an electromagnet, holding the metal in place. Unfortunately, the plutonium is poisoning his blood and we have to remove the arc reactor.”

 Peter was shocked. He knew Mr. Stark’s life depended on the tech in his chest, but he hadn’t known anything about plutonium poisoning his blood. He knew from his studies how dangerous the substance can be. Additionally, switching off the electromagnet would kill the man too. “But then the metal will wander to his heart again.” He concluded, fear in his voice.

 “That is correct, which is why we must perform the operation. We want to finally remove the metal. We're going to cut open his chest under an electromagnet and remove the shards. But the operation will be exhausting for his body. And that's where you come in. A side effect of soulbonds is the power one soulmate can give to another. You can imagine that not only Tony's soul, but your soul bound him to life.” The doctor remained calm when he explained the problem to Peter and he was grateful for the professionalism. Peter had to stay focused, he needed to understand what he could do for Mr. Stark and he was on the verge of losing it.

 Even though Peter wasn’t very fond of magic, the doctor’s explanations made sense, well, at least a little bit. He hated not understanding things and magic was definitely part of that. But binding Mr. Stark to live, well, that was something he was truly grateful for. Everyone knew what the billionaire had been through in Afghanistan and what he sacrificed for being Iron Man, Peter just wanted to give something back.

 "If a person's life can be bound to two souls, why can soulmates die when the other is still alive".

 It took the doctor a second to answer. "First of all, if someone is really dead, no soul-bound being in the world can bring him back or stop death. You can only give the body a little bit of strength to endure strain longer. If someone is stabbed or a disease kills him, a soul mate cannot do anything. And if soulmates have never met before, even their presence cannot save the other. There must be a connection between the two".

 Peter felt himself getting cold. Shit, there needs to be a bond? But Tony and he didn’t have a bond! He felt the fear rising in him. “You need to stop the surgery.” Peter pleaded. “We didn’t initiate a bond.”

 The doctor laughed, reached out and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “Peter, can you show me your tattoo?” Peter was confused for a second, what did his tattoo had to do with this? But he still nodded and exposed his wrist to the man’s touch. “Do you notice any differences?”

 Peter stared intently at his tattoo. It was familiar to him, a part of him that he had worn since birth. But once he paid attention, he noticed that the lines of the name were thicker than before.

 “It’s thicker, isn’t it?” The doctor asked. “A bond is formed when soulmates touch each other. It can be a sexual touch, or a friendly one. t's the intention of the couple that counts. If they truly want each other, a bond is formed. It doesn’t matter if the feeling is sexual or loving.”

 Peter blushed. He remembered how much he had wanted Mr. Stark, his fingers on his body, his lips everywhere. His thoughts stopped for a second. If the bond was formed successfully, Mr. Stark must have wanted him too.

 “Can a soulbond c-create…” He stammered shamefully. “Can a soulbond cause a-arousal?”

 The doctor knowingly laughed and winked at him. “It can increase the pleasure, but it cannot create feeling that weren’t there before.”

 Peter swallowed, relieved that Mr. Stark seemed to find him arousing, but also ashamed by his own behaviour. The had blamed the bond for his shamelessness, but apparently it was on him.

 He tried to change the topic. “What happens after a bond is formed?”

 The doctor looked at him forcefully. “Peter don’t be afraid. I know how Mr. Star is. If one of you decides to stay away from the other, it won’t be painful. There are other people out there, other good matches. It's just never gonna be as perfect as the soul bond.”

 Peter took a deep breath. He wanted to fight for Mr. Stark, wanted to fight for the privilege of keeping him happy. But if the billionaire truly didn’t want him, he could stay away.

 The doctor took one look on his watch and stood up. “I’m sorry, Peter. I have to cut the conversation short. It’s time. If you would be so kind as to follow me?”

 Peter's nervousness came back with a vengeance. Now it was time to fight for Tony Stark's life.

  ~*~

  The second time Tony woke up in a hospital, he was not alone again. This time only Pepper was sitting next to his bed and it wasn’t bright but dark outside. The felt a dull arch in his chest and tried to touch it gently. A heavy bandage was wrapped around his torso, making it difficult to breath. He assumed he was on heavy painkillers because he didn’t feel as if he had been cut open just before.

 Tony didn’t remember much about the day. The doctors had knocked him out in the morning and after that everything was black except for a faint memory of a beautiful boy. Had he dreamed about Peter?

 “Tony, you’re awake.” Pepper shone at him. “I’m so happy everything’s fine. You’re going to be okay, no need to give me Stark Industries.”

 He sighed in relieve. He’ll be okay, he’ll live, and the first time in years he didn’t have to worry about the metal in his body. The only unsolved problem was Peter.

 “Have I been awake before?” He asked curiously and Pepper nodded. “I remember Peter sitting next to me and holding my hand. Was it a dream?”

 Pepper looked pitifully at him and took his hand. “Oh Tony, yes, he was here when you first woke up. Guess you don't remember much since you were still recovering from the anaesthetic."

 He swallowed heavily. Hopefully, he didn’t say anything he’ll regret now. “Did I… did I say anything to him?”

 “No, Tony, you didn’t. You didn’t talk at all. Yet Peter is out there, waiting for you to wake up. Give him a chance and let him talk to you. Let him see you’re fine.” She pulled the chair closer to his bed and looked at him vividly. “You’ll like the boy. He is not only handsome but intelligent. You have so much in common. Don’t let yourself be unhappy again.”

 Tony couldn’t look at her. How could he give the boy a chance? There are a million better man out there, better matches for Peter. He didn’t want to tie the boy to an old man like him. “Pepper, he isn’t ever allowed to drink.”

 “Then wait for him.” Her voice got frustrated. “He’ll be twenty-one in three months.”

 He closed his eyes, guilt and desire battling inside him. He wanted to get to know the boy, but he didn’t want to load all his problems on someone else’s shoulders.

 “He is so young Pepper.” His last doubts were coming to the surface.

 “Peter is young but clever, Tony.” Pepper replied fiercely. “He is a gentle soul who wouldn’t even take your money. He wanted to pay for his own hotel, a small one near the hospital.” She laughed bitterly. “Tony, he wanted nothing in return for saving your life. Yes, you’ve made mistakes in the past, but it’s time to let go. Just try to be happy for once, okay? Peter is perfect for you.”

 Tony pondered, knowing he would be gone on the boy if he decided to let him in. Peter was so innocent but beautiful. He wanted to challenge the young man, see if he could keep up with him in the lab. He wanted to hold him, protect him from life. And he wanted to bend him over his work desk and fuck him until he screamed Tony’s name.

 You know what, fuck it. Fuck anyone who’d think Peter is too young, fuck the media and the moralists. He wanted to be happy, he didn’t want to be alone anymore. He promised himself to protect the boy and to spoil him rotten. He would keep him in his arms and buy him everything he would ever want. He will listen to the soulshit for once, maybe Peter really was the right one for him.

 “Okay, let him in.” His voice was hoarse but determined.

 Pepper smiled brightly and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “I’m so happy, Tony. You won’t regret it.”

 Then she left the room to call the boy and leave them alone.

   Peter looked insecure, almost scared, when he entered the room. He was even more beautiful than Tony remembered. Although he looked tired as if he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before, Tony had never seen someone more beautiful, more tempting.

 Peter stopped in the middle on the room, unsure if he could sit down of if the billionaire would throw him out soon. Tony winced at the sight, he had really fucked up.

 “Peter, you can sit down if you want.” Tony soothed the boy and pointed to the chair next to his bed. Peter smiled carefully and took the seat. He was closer to Tony than the billionaire would have liked, it was just so difficult to concentrate while he was near the boy. He smelled the faint vanilla note of Peter’s scent and the only thing preventing him from getting aroused again was the slight pain in his chest.

 “Mr Stark, how are you?” The boy asked cheerfully. Tony could see that the boy was happy about him being awake and well.

 “I’m fine. My chest still hurts a little, but I’m sure it’ll heal.”

 The boy smiled at him so brightly that Tony felt as if he was looking at the sun. Being happy, Peter looked like a vision. Tony didn’t have much brightness in his life, and he was determined to hold on tight.

 “Peter.” Tony looked intensely at the boy and took his hand, making sure he was listening. “I am truly sorry for our first encounter. I didn’t mean to throw myself at you. You are so young, it’s better if we keep our distance for a while.”

 The moment he saw Peter’s hurt face, he knew he’d chosen the wrong words. The boy pulled back his hand, attempting to get up and leave the room. “It’s alright, Mr. Stark.” The boy tried to get a grip on himself, but Tony could see the first tears falling. “I get it, I’m just happy you’re fine.”

 Peter’s sadness broke Tony’s heart and he grabbed his arm before he could walk away. “Wait, Pete.” He pleaded. “I’ve said it all wrong. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you or get in your pants, but I want to get to know you better. Let’s just try to keep our pants on.”

 Peter starred at him with a mixture of relief and frustration on his face. “You mean as friends?”

 Tony laughed bitterly. “God Peter, no. Even if I tried, I couldn’t stop myself. You're so alluring, every second I see you, I want to fuck you senseless.” The boy blushed under his blatant words. “I just want to get to know you better first, is that all right? I want to wait for your birthday.”

 The hesitation on Peter’s face vanished and his beautiful smile returned. Tony felt his tension subside when the boy stopped crying. He became too attached to the boy far too soon. He would already do anything for the boy, how would he act after he’d got to know the boy better? Tony pushed aside his fear, it would only lead to him running away, but this time he wanted to do it right.

 “Tony, can I kiss you?” The billionaire shrugged after the unexpected question. He knew he shouldn’t do it, he knew how hard it would be to resist the temptation once he touched Peter’s lips, but he was a weak man. So he nodded, allowing the boy to get close.

 The attraction was the same when their lips touched the second time. Tony felt the boy shaking, arching into the kiss. The angle was awkward, Peter bent over him, carefully so as not to touch his chest. Tony was uncomfortable, his neck stretched to reach the boy’s lips.

 He growled in frustration, wanting to feel the boys weight pressing against him during the kiss. He wanted to touch the boy everywhere, but his stupid bandage was in the way. Peter climbed over him, settled on his lap and kept his hands away from Tony’s chest. He supported his weight with his arms and pressed another kiss on his lips.

 Tony opened his mouth, allowing the boy’s tongue to enter him for a second before taking control and pushing it back. One hand got tangled up in the boy’s soft curls, the other slipped under his t-shirt. He caressed the soft skin of Peter’s back, drawing patterns on his skin. He boy shivered under his touch and started to squirm. His ass was pressed against Tony’s clothed cock and he got hard under Peter’s movement.

 The boy was a vision, losing control from a simple kiss alone. His cheeks were rosy, the blush spreading across his neck. Tony wanted to undress him to know how far down the blush went. He wanted to pinch his nipples, kissing them, biting them, while the boy was riding his cock.

 “Fuck, sweet boy. So good for me.” Peter was so responsive to his touch, he moaned when Tony stroked the waistband of his jeans, slipping a finger under it. He couldn’t reach his ass properly, but Peter arched his back as if Tony had already pressed a finger in his tight little hole.

 Tony felt that he was losing control. He knew he was going too far. Not only were they in a hospital, and Pepper was waiting outside his room, he had also promised to keep his hands to himself until the boy turned twenty-one. But he was too far gone to stop now.

 Tony brought his hands to the front of the boy’s jeans while his tongue was thrusting in the boy’s mouth. He imagined what it would feel like to have Peter spread out under him, licking into his tight little heat and luring every sound out of the boy’s pretty pink mouth. He imagined how Peter would moan and cry, how he would beg him to feed him his cock.

 When he pressed his palm against Peter’s clothed cock, the boy bucked into his touch. Even though Tony would normally appreciate the responsiveness, the boy’s groin pressed against his chest for a short time and a sharp pain ran through his whole body.

 Tony groaned, but not out of arousal this time. It took Peter a second to realize Tony’s pain, but then he backed off immediately. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark.” He apologized while he climbed back into his chair.

 Tony smiled painfully. “It’s all right, sweet boy. I guess it’s better this way or we would have gone too far. I didn’t mean to touch you before your birthday, I just couldn’t stop myself.” He realised once again that he had no control over his urges when he touched the boy. He closed his eyes, willing his erection away which was leaking in the sweatpants he was wearing.

 It was difficult to regain control, and according to his heavy breathing, Peter felt the same way. The boy’s lips were swollen, and his hair dishevelled, he looked just so fuckable right now that he wanted the boy back on his lap. He concentrated on the dull pain in his chest to get a grip on himself.

 “Seems the only thing we can do is jump on each other.” Tony joked and Peter blushed with embarrassment. “You know what boy, when we get back home, I’m gonna take you out. Won’t be possible to strip you when we’re eating in a restaurant, right?”

 Tony knew his decision was right when the boy’s face lit up after the suggestion of a date. “I would like that Mr. Stark.” He answered and smiled so brightly at the billionaire that all those unwanted feelings came back. Tony groaned and fought his arousal once again. Will this go on forever now? He would die of frustration while he was close to the boy.

 “Tell me about yourself.” Tony tried to distract himself from his leaking cock.

 Peter looked at him thoughtfully. “What do you want to know?”

 Anything, Tony thought. Anything to distract me from the urge to fuck you senseless in a hospital room. “Tell me about your studies. You’re getting your PhD right?”

 Peter’s face lit up with the question. “Yes, I’m currently working on a project of prosthetic arms. My supervising professor knows some soldiers who lost their arms in the war. A couple of them have simple metal ones, but I’m working on better arms that can be controlled by their minds.”

 Tony was enchanted. The boy talked with a passion that made the billionaire thrilled. He gesticulated wildly while his eyes were sparkling with excitement. Tony wanted to know more about the project.

 “How far have you progressed?” He asked interested, forgetting the pain and his burning arousal for the first time.

 Peter shifted on his chair, tugging his legs under him to sit comfortably. Then he took out his old phone, opened an app and gave it to Tony. The billionaire scrolled through the app, seeing everything Peter had already done. He saw blueprints of arm prothesis, equations calculating the right amount of the component parts and a thousand measurement values. He saw Peter’s progress on the screen, his own mind racing with ideas to improve the project.

 At the end of Peter’s notations was a black question mark. “What’s this about?” Tony ask, pointing at the end of the document.

 Peter shrugged. “Well, I’d like to start the testing phase with a few people, but there’s still one problem left I couldn’t fix.”

 Tony was interested. “Which problem?”

 Peter took his old phone back, and Tony planned to buy him a new one, a better one. Probably he’ll give him a Stark phone. The boy showed him a video.

 Tony could see a man in a lab, probably at NYU, wearing an arm prothesis while sleeping in a bed. The setting of the room indicated that it was a test experiment Peter had conducted. In the upper left corner, the vitals of the man were on display. As time continued, Tony could see that the pulse was changing. The man was probably in REM sleep. Suddenly, his arm prothesis started to twitch, moving in a ridiculous way while the man was still sleeping. After a few seconds, someone entered the lab, waking the man up and the movements of the prothesis stopped.

 “What happened?” Tony asked curiously. He already had a presumption, but he wanted Peter to confirm it.

 “The prothesis is controlled by the subject’s thoughts and intentions, thus driven by electric impulses of the brain. During dreaming, electrical impulses are emitted that set the human body in motion. When dreams trigger strong emotions such as fear or excitement, the prosthesis reacts with unpredictable movements.”

 “Like when you lash out in a dream and then it happens in reality?” Tony asked him. “But doesn't that also happen with the normal body?”

 Peter smiled at the question, visibly enjoying talking about his project. “Kind of.” He answered. “But the reactions are stronger. When someone feels distressed in their sleep, they usually just toss and turn in bed. The simple feeling of a normal nightmare is enough for the prosthesis to react like soldiers with PTSD. You can imagine what a person who feels anxious would do at night.”

 Tony swallowed. He knew first hand how it was like to live with PTSD, how draining nightmares could be. He also knew what could happen when mind-controlled tech reacts to the dreams. He had similar problems with his Iron Man Suits once.

 “Peter, do you mind if we look at your prosthesis in my lab when we get back home?” Peter looked at him buzzled. Tony wanted a chance to get to know the boy better anyway and combining it with his favourite pastime sounded great. “I once had a similar problem with my Iron Man suits, maybe we can work on a solution together.”

 Peter beamed at him and tried to jump at him for joy. Tony liked the impulsive character of his soul mate, he always preferred partners who show their feelings. In bed and out of bed. He wanted to make the boy happy all the time, showering him with gifts and seeing the smile every day.

 Sadly, Peter held back before he could touch the billionaire. After losing control through the kiss earlier, it would be wise to keep their distance until his chest had healed. To top it off, the boy was still not twenty-one.

 “Peter, lets limit the time spent together to lab work until your birthday, all right?” Tony suggested. “We can talk, we can work, and on your birthday, I’ll take you out. I’ve promised you I’d take you on a date afterwards.”

 The boy didn’t look happy, but nodded anyway. “Fine.” He replied. “But don’t push me away afterwards.”

 “I won’t.” Tony promised. He won’t be able to keep his hands of the boy much longer anyway. “Let’s call it a day.” The billionaire suggested. “I’m tired from the surgery and your flight will leave tomorrow morning. I need to stay a few days longer to make sure everything is healing. I’ll be back at work next Monday. Can I pick you up Monday at five in the intern lab?”

 “Of course, Mr. Stark.” Peter replied happily. “Guess I’ll see you Monday.”

 He hugged Tony carefully before he left the room. Even one hour later, Tony imagined he could still feel the boy’s weight in his arms and the faint smell of vanilla in the air. Monday couldn’t come fast enough.

  Chapter 4

 After his first two weeks, Peter had almost settled into a routine at Stark Industries. In the morning he always went to the kitchen on the second floor first, brewing himself a cup of coffee. He needed his daily dose of caffeine to start the day, and although he preferred the perfectly brewed cappuccino from the bakery across the street, making his own was much cheaper. He brought his own mug and took it with him to his working space.

 Then that he went to the intern lab, a large room with a dozen workbenches. He shared the room with eleven other interns, all university or PhD students like himself. They got paid for their work, which is why they were included in SI projects. Everyone had to sign a confidentiality agreement to keep the company’s secrets safe.

 Peter and one other intern named Flash worked on a new Stark phone, assisting a couple of engineers to improve the older model. They were still having problems with the camera, it wasn’t as good as Tony Stark expected it to be and SI was known to bringing out only the best products.

 Peter hadn’t seen Pepper all week. She was relieved the matter with Tony and him was settled and that the billionaire was getting better after the surgery, but she had spent a lot of time worrying about him and now she had to get work done. Peter thought it was a pity. He was amazingly fond of her, even though she was Tony’s ex-wife. He felt her friendly love for his soulmate, and he was happy Tony had such an amazing woman in his life.

 All in all, his internship was the dream he’d hoped for, except for one thing: his lab-partner Flash. Flash was older than him, twenty-five by now, and he hadn’t finished his studies yet. Although that wasn’t a big deal, Flash was envious of him already doing his PhD, and every day he showed Peter how little he thought about him.

 It had started with a few comments. Parker, what is a kid like you doing in a grown-up world. Parker, how many dicks did you suck to get this internship? Parker, how many did you pay to get your PhD? But it just kept getting worse and worse.

 One day, Flash had destroyed a laptop, claiming it was Peter’s fault. He told their supervisor Peter had thrown it on the floor only to frame him. Peter denied it, but Flash had been working for SI for two years now and they all trusted him.

 Peter tried to ignore Flash, he didn’t answer, didn’t report anything, because his supervisor wouldn’t believe him anyway. But it only got worse. Flash had stolen his phone while he was going to the toilet, it was a mistake not to take it with him. He had read a pop-up message from MJ, telling him her hot new neighbour is exactly his type. As soon as Flash knew he was gay, he started calling him Penis-Parker, slapping his butt as he walked by and accusing Peter to try to gay him up too.

 It was a nightmare, but Peter didn’t say anything, too afraid that no one would belief him. On Monday, when Tony came back to work, things escalated.

  He had been late for work because a subway train had had an accident, blocking the station where he was waiting. Without a coffee, he entered the lab after his supervisor had glared angrily at him. Flash snickered, clearly enjoying his distress.

 The lab was empty except for Flash and him, all the other inters were either on vacation or attending a congress where a new SI product was to be launched today. But Flash and he had to stay in the lab because the new Stark phone would be launched soon, and the camera still wasn’t perfect.

 “Why are you late, Parker?” Flash sneered. “Busy dropping your pants for all the gay men on the streets?”

 Peter took a deep breath and tried to ignore him. Flash wasn’t worth the trouble, he wasn’t even worth the anger Peter was feeling, but the words hurt anyway. Yes, he was gay, so what? They were living in the twenty first century, nobody should care about sexual orientation anymore.

 His silence seemed to make Flash even angrier. “Penis Parker, I’m talking to you. Are not only a faggot but deaf, too?”

 Peter could feel anger bubbling up inside him, threatening to surface, but he fought it off. He was better than that, he wouldn’t start an argument about any of this. It would only come back to him, his supervisor wouldn’t belief him anyway.

 “You’re so pathetic, Parker.” Flash snarled and grabbed his forearm tight. Peter flinched; Flash had never touched him before. He could handle mean comments and insults about his sexuality, but he couldn’t stand violence. But Flash was bigger than him, stronger than him, and although he tried, Peter couldn’t get his arm free.

 “Please, let me go.” He begged, struggling against the grip on his forearm, but Flash only cackled.

 “Look at you, Penis Parker. One touch and you almost cry. I thought you like being touched by men, don’t you? Never had a real man touching you before?”

 Peters anger turned to fear. He’d been convinced Flash wouldn’t do anything serious to him, that he’d only let out his anger through words, but right now he wasn’t sure anymore. He struggled harder against the grip, afraid what the other man would do to him.

 When he heard the fabric tear, he was unaware of the seriousness of the situation for a few seconds. Flash stopped insulting him and that should have been the first warning sign. Still, it took him a little longer to understand why Flash was quiet.

 His wrist was turned upwards, the tattoo clearly visible. Normally, Peter wore a watch to cover it, but he had forgotten it in the morning, thinking the tight sleeves of his shirt would stop anyone from noticing. They had, though, but his shirt had ripped while he had been struggling against Flash’s grip. And now what he wanted to avoid at all costs had happened. Someone else had seen his mark.

 “Omg, you are really pathetic, Parker.” Flash said stunned. His scornful voice had turned to hideous. “How can you be so dumb to tattoo Tony Starks name on your arm.”

 Peter was finally able to pull his wrist back and hid the tattoo against his chest. His eyes prickled and he fought the tears with everything he had. He wouldn’t cry in front of Flash; he couldn’t stand the satisfaction that would be visible on the other’s face afterwards.

 “You are disgusting Peter Parker, do you really thing you can turn the Tony Stark gay with your little tricks?” Flash came even closer, grabbing his hips so tightly that he couldn’t escape. “Someone like him would never even look at you, faggot. I’m gonna show you what happens to arrogant kids like you, Parker. Guess you only got accepted for the internship because you had sucked a million dicks, hoping that one day Tony Stark would fuck your mouth. I tell you something Peter, that will never happen.”

  “Enough.” An icy voice interrupted them, and Flash jumped back startled. In the doorway of the lab stood Tony Stark, and Peter sighed with relief.

 “What do you think you’re doing there?” The billionaire asked Flash, rage all over his face. Peter could see that he was clenching his hands into fists, so his ankles turned white.

 “Mr. Stark, good thing you’re here.” Flash smiled at the man in awe. “I just had to teach the faggot here a lesson, he had your name tattooed on his wrist. He thought he could turn you gay by pretending to be your soulmate.” Flash’s loud laughter echoed across the room.

 Tony’s control snapped. He burst into the room, grabbed Flash by the throat and slammed him into the nearest wall. Peter could see that Tony was wearing a part of his Iron Man suit so there was no way for Flash break free. Tony’s face was full of hatred when he looked at the intern, Peter had never seen him like that before.

 “I’m gonna say this once, and only once.” The billionaire threatened. “No one has the right to attack anyone, even if they’re lying, even if they have tattooed my name over all of their body. Do you understand that?”

 Flash looked at him in fear, paralyzed and unable to answer because Tony clasped his throat tightly.

 The billionaire loosened his grip, he didn’t mean to kill him, only threatening him a bit.

 “Did I make myself clear?” He repeated, slowly this time.

 Flash couldn’t nod fast enough, and Tony let him go. He slumped to the ground, touching his neck, and looking like a little kid scolded by a father.

 “Although it’s none of your business, I want to show you something.” Tony grinned evil and rolled up his sleeve to reveal his soulmark, Peter’s name. Flash looked at it paralyzed.

 “If you ever bully my soulmate again, if you so much as look at him wrong or, god bless, touch him, I will kill you. And don’t you doubt I wouldn’t even go to jail for that. I have enough money so everyone will belief you attacked me first. Peter is mine.” Tony growled.

 Peter swallowed. Although the threat was directed at Flash, he could feel the billionaire’s anger anyway. He was so dominant, protecting Peter in a way no one had ever done before, and a warm feeling spread in his chest. That was everything he had ever wanted, someone to loved him, to take care of him and protect him if necessary.  

 Flash didn’t talk anymore, he sat on the floor, looking miserable and frightened, but Tony showed no pity. “Leave now.” He ordered. “Leave, and don’t think you could ever come back here again. Your resignation will be sent to you by mail.”

 Flash didn’t look up when he left the room and avoided Peter’s gaze. He looked like a kicked puppy, but Peter didn’t feel pity either. He could deal with comments, with harassment, he was used to it by now, but he couldn’t accept any form of violence. When Flash was gone, Tony turned to him.

 “Are you all right, Peter?” He asked, reached out and pulled him into an embrace. Peter hid his face in Tony’s thousand-dollar shirt, felling safe for the first time that day. Tony smelled good, save, like home and he let himself be held. When his tension dropped, he started to cry. Tony soothed him, kept him in his arms and stroked his back. He was waiting patiently until everything was out.

 After some time had passed, Peter’s sobbing slowed down, until he was breathing heavily, protected by Tony’s arms. “Shh, Pete. You’re safe, my sweet little boy. Come with me to my lab. I don’t want you to work with the other interns anymore.”

  Peter nodded and let himself be led into Tony’s workspace. He didn’t remember how they got there, he didn’t even notice that they weren’t seen by anyone else. The only thing he felt was Tony's grip around his hips and his voice telling him that everything would be okay.

 When they entered the lab, Tony sat down onto his couch, pulling Peter in his lap. Neither could let go of the other. Instead, Peter clung to Tony like an octopus, his face back into Tony's collar.

 After a minute of silence, Tony picked up a discussion. “Peter, I want you to work with me in my lab. Not only because you’re my soulmate, but also because you’re the most intelligent person I know. I don’t want you wasting your time on a phone, I want you to work on your project.”

 Peter looked up, smiling for the first time. “Really?”

 Tony smiled back. “Really. You are brilliant, Peter, and on top of that I want to keep you close to me.”

 Peter grinned, pressing his lips to Tony’s once more. The familiar heat, mixed with arousal, bubbled in his chest and he smiled in the kiss. Everything with Tony felt so perfect.

 After a couple of minutes, the billionaire pulled back. His lips were swollen, and he looked at Peter with hunger in his eyes. Peter wanted to go further. He wanted to thank Tony by blowing him, getting down on his knees in front of the billionaire and putting his cock into his mouth. He wanted to be bent over the couch, he wanted his daddy to fuck him until he screamed.

 Peter froze for a second. Had he called Tony Daddy in his mind? Fuck, what was wrong with him? He was glad, he didn’t say it out loud. What would his soulmate think of him? He didn’t see Tony as a father, he didn’t want to be parented by him, but he wanted to be protected like a boy. It was hard for him to admit to himself that the thought of the billionaire as his provider, his protector, turned him on even more.

 “Everything all right, boy?” Tony asked, sensing his discomfort.

 Peter smiled and answered cocky. “Everything is fine. I just thought about blowing you right now.”

 Tony groaned and gently pushed him off his lap. “Peter, please. Don’t try my patience. How can you tempt me when you were crying just a few minutes ago?"

 Peter laughed loudly, licked his lips and enjoyed the effect he had on his soulmate. “I don’t know. I constantly think about you fucking me.”

 Tony’s moans were flattering. He was so happy to be allowed to work in the billionaire’s lab and he was making plans. He wanted to work on his project, but he also wanted to work on the billionaire. Let’s see if Mr. Stark could wait for his birthday or if he would go crazy with arousal. Peter smiled to himself. For the time being he would let it go, sit on the couch next to Tony and stay away from his lap, but he would make the billionaire's next few weeks difficult.

 They both needed time to calm down, getting a grip of their arousal. Peter kept cuddling Tony and pressed himself against his side, but the smell of his soulmate made it difficult to think about anything else than getting fucked. Nevertheless, he held himself back.

 “Why were you in the lab?” Peter asked after a long time of silence and turned his head to look at the billionaire’s face. “You even had a piece of your Iron Man Suit with you.”

 Tony smiled at him and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “I felt your distress.” He confessed. “It didn't feel like the feeling was coming from me. It was in the back of my head and I knew it belonged to you.”

 Peter looked at him stunned. “Do you think it’s because of the bond?”

 The billionaire chuckled and pressed him closer to his side. “Maybe. If we have time, we could look into it more closely. Do some research.”

 Peter beamed at the thought of recherche, of knowledge, and it was the moment he realised that maybe the thing between them wasn't just a chemical reaction or a mission for him to make Tony happy. Maybe they really were a perfect match.

  ~*~

  When Tony was allowed to leave the hospital, he felt nothing but relieved. He had been going crazy in there, never any good with patience and he felt restless when he was separated from his lab for too long. Pepper and Peter had left days ago. Pepper had a company to run and Peter continued his internship. Tony had kept him away enough lately, but he missed his boy. He didn’t know if it was because of the bond, but he suspected it might be caused by the kid’s awesomeness, too. Everything he had already seen of the boy was perfect. Shit, if he wasn’t careful, he would become a sap.

 Lab work with Peter turned out to be great. Tony had known he was clever, after all he had seen the blueprints of Peter’s project but watching the boy work was something else. Tony could see Peter had never worked with good equipment before. He’d always feel bad, when an idea didn’t work out and material was wasted, even tough failure was a part of engineering. But after some time had passed, Peter got used to the unlimited amount of resources and it was inspiring to work with the boy.

 The only thing worrying Tony was the pull towards Peter that he felt. Working with him, seeing his intelligence every day, was slowly killing Tony. He was almost constantly turned on, watching the boy’s fingers when he worked. He imagined how it would feel when the boy wrapped them around his cock and Tony couldn’t suppress a shiver. He watched Peter’s ass, saw the muscles flex when he walked and the only thing stopping him from bending the boy over was his stubbornness. On top of that, Peter was almost constantly chewing on something, a pen or a screwdriver, and it was tempting as hell to see the pink lips stretching around something.

 Tony didn’t know if Peter was doing it on purpose, but he couldn’t imagine that such an innocent boy could even try to seduce him. He blamed himself instead, believing that his sick mind was making things up. Only four weeks after they started working together, Tony snapped.

  When he entered the lab this morning, Peter was already there, bending over a workbench to screw a metal piece to the fifth prototype of his prothesis. Immediately, the billionaire’s gaze was glued to the firm little ass, watching it flex in the boy’s jeans. He didn’t announce his arrival to get more time to admire the view. As Peter shifted his weight from one leg to another, Tony could see his cheeks wiggle and he closed his eyes, imagining how they would bounce when he slapped them, when he would split the boy open with his cock.

 Tony would love to strap Peter down to the desk, keeping him there for hours. He would enter him over and over, filling him with his load until it leaked out of him. He would claim his boy so thoroughly that everyone could see who Peter belonged to. Tony knew his thoughts were wrong, that Peter couldn’t possibly want the things he did, but his mind keep wandering even though he tried to fight it.

 “Mister Stark, you’re here. Why didn’t you say something?” Peter ripped him out of his thoughts, looking at him with his innocent Bambi-eyes.

 Tony cleared his throat before answering. “I’m just watching you work. It’s interesting how far you’ve come with your project.” His voice was rough, and even in his own ears it sounded like an excuse, but Peter just smiled.

 “Great, Mr Stark. Would you mind lending me a hand?” Oh, Tony would love to. He would help undress the boy, stuff him full of his fingers and wrap the other hand around Peters cock. But that’s not what the boy was talking about, Tony remembered. He was talking about the prosthetic.

 “Sure.” He replied, struggling to keep his voice neutral.

 “Perfect.” Peter beamed. “Can you walk around the desk and keep the prothesis still? I want to open it and see why it couldn’t react as fast as I want it to.”

 Tony only nodded, disappointed that he couldn't watch his ass any longer, but he could at least see Peter’s face properly now. He held the prosthesis in place and gave the boy enough room to work.

 What he didn’t expect was the boy’s facial expression while he was concentrated. Peter’s mouth fell open and his tongue darted out. He licked his lips, focused on his project. Tony couldn’t tear his gaze from the boy’s lips. They were wet, glistening with salvia and Tony wanted them stretched around his cock. He could see that they were swollen, Peter had probably bitten them, too focused on his project.

 Tony’s thoughts weren’t nice. He didn’t just want to push in, he wanted to choke Peter on it, seeing the boy cry from his cock when he split open his throat. Tony knew his cock wasn’t small, many of his past lover struggled with it, but he’d never wanted to wreck someone so thoroughly as he wanted to wreck Peter.

 When Peter’s mouth opened a bit wider, Tony was done. He let go of the prothesis and jumped back a step as if he had been burned. Peter looked at him confused.

 “Mister Stark, is something wrong?” He asked innocently.

 Tony shock his head, struggling to find the right words. “No, no. Everything is fine Peter. I’m just craving coffee. I want to go to the coffee shop across the street. Shall I get you a coffee too?”

 “Yes, please.” Peter smiled. “I love their cappuccino, it’s amazing.”

 You’re amazing, Tony thought, already halfway out the door. He had to put space between them. It was only a little over a month away from Peter's birthday, and he’ll manage it. The attraction between them was almost unbearable, he had never felt anything like this before, but he couldn’t sleep with Peter until he was twenty-one. His fantasies were so filthy, so wrong that he couldn’t act them out with a kid.

  Twenty minutes later, Tony came back with two coffees in his hand. He felt calmer. For a second, he had thought about relieving himself in the bathroom, but he had quickly dismissed the idea. He was no longer a teenager, so he wouldn’t act like one.

 Peter dumped his work when Tony offered him the cappuccino. “Omg, thank you, Mister Stark. The taste is amazing.“ He moaned during his first sip and Tony closed his eyes, feeling aroused. Again. What the fuck was wrong with him.

 A little bit of foam was still on Peter’s bottom lip and the boy licked it up seductively. Tony’s eyes were on the boy’s lips once again. It had taken the billionaire twenty minutes to calm down, only to be back on the edge of his control after a few seconds. Great, just great.

 Things only got worse. Peter arched his back as he was bend over the workbench once again, his legs were spread to stand securely. He was occasionally sipping his coffee, moaning each time and declaring his love to the coffee shop across the street. When Peter whimpered after his last sip of coffee, Tony snapped.

 He pressed his groin against the boy’s ass, moaning in his ear. His left arm hold Peter securely on the table, making it impossible for Peter to move. “Stop that, sweet boy.” Tony pleaded desperately, knowing he would regret his next words. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me when you offer yourself like that. You’re acting like a slut for me.”

 He had never expected the reaction of Peter to his words. The boy cried out, arching his back even further and rubbing his ass against Tony’s groin. “Please, daddy. Please let me be your slut. I’ve worked so hard to break your patience.”

 The minute the boy called him Daddy, Tony was lost. He growled like an animal, all doubts vanished from his thoughts as if they’d never been there. He gripped Peter’s wrist, holding them firmly behind the boy’s back. His cock was pulsing in his jeans, uncomfortably so, and he thrusted against Peter’s backside. It wasn’t enough.

 “You wanted it, sweet boy? Acting like a slut for me, presenting your lips and your ass, trying to seduce me?” His voice was deep, he didn’t even recognize himself anymore.

 “Yes, please, daddy.” Peter cried. Tony had never seen anyone so beautiful. The boy belonged here, beneath him, crying for his daddy to ravish him. “I’ve tried so hard, Daddy. I bend over every time you looked at me, I bit my lips raw for you. Just please, do something. I need it.”

 Tony growled. His boy was everything he had ever wanted, his soulmate, perfect for him in bed and out of it. He couldn’t hold back anymore. Tony used his free hand to undo his belt and pulled out his cock. He moaned in relief when he was out of his prison.

 “I want you to pull your jeans and boxer down. Don’t take them off completely. Just enough so I can see your milky ass. Can you do that for me, Pete?” Tony could have done it himself, but he wanted the boy to decide whether he was ready or not. “You won’t come today, my sweet boy. I can’t reward you for your slutty behaviour. I won’t fuck you and I won’t even let you blow me until your birthday. I will stroke myself until I’ll come on you pretty cheeks, rub it into your skin to show you that you are mine.” He growled, squeezing Peter’s ass once. “If you want to leave now or want to wait for your birthday, that’s fine, but if you want to stay, it's on my terms.”

 Peter didn’t even have to think. “Please, come all over me, Daddy.” He begged, already tugging down his pants. He revealed the most gorgeous little ass Tony had ever seen. It was milky white, plum and round, inviting him to slap the skin to watch it wiggle. Tony couldn’t resist, he spread the cheeks to get a good look at the tight little pucker between. He wouldn’t touch today, but a look wouldn’t hurt.

 He groaned when he saw the pink muscle. Peter was gorgeous down there, smooth, hairless skin and so responsive. The boy cried out as the billionaire revealed his entrance to the air, and the urge to touch was stronger than ever. But Tony hold back, just one more month.

 Instead, he gripped his cock and started stroking it. He knew he wouldn’t last long; he was already too riled up from the boy’s seduction. His gaze was focused on Peter while he pleasured himself. He enjoyed all the little noises Peter made and watched the ass wiggle when the boy twitched.

 His orgasm came fast, sweeping over him like a train. He trembled, fighting to keep the control of his body. It was white hot pleasure, as intense as he had never experienced before.

 Tony saw his seed splashing on Peter’s backside, covering him and marking him up. He felt pride when the boy surrendered himself to his grip and he felt satisfaction that was deeper than just sexual. He rubbed his release into the boy’s skin, before helping the boy up from the desk. Tony massaged the boy's stiff wrists to stimulate blood circulation and tucked Peter’s pants up, without cleaning his mess. He wanted the boy to feel him a little longer.

 After that, he hugged the boy close, sitting down on the sleeping couch in his lab. He draped Peter on his lap, his arms wrapped around his boy to keep him close. The boy was still hard, but he relaxed into the embrace with a content smile on his face.

 Tony soothed him, unwilling to let the boy go. They sat in contented silence for a few minutes until Tony raised his voice.

 “Pete, I think we need to talk about a few things. Don’t worry, nothing bad.” The boy nodded, still uncertainty in his eyes.

 “Peter, I really like you.” Tony confessed and Peter beamed at his as if it was Christmas.

 “I like you, too Mr. Stark.”

 A warm feeling spread through Tony’s chest. Although he already suspected the boy was developing feelings for him, it was different hearing it from him.

 “Peter, I’m not a good man. In a relationship and in bed.” Tony sighed. “I take too much control and I find it hard to be considerate. I mean, everyone knows, my divorce with Pepper was all over the media.” He swallowed, afraid to lose the boy with his demands in bed or with his carelessness.”

 “Tony.” Peter spoke up for the first time. His voice was steady and calm, all shyness gone. “You are a good man. You look out for others, risk your life for strangers and care about all your friends. What makes you think that's not enough? I really like you. In time, I'll probably love you too.”

 The words were like fire in Tony’s veins, but for once not due to arousal. Even though he tried to be tough, to be fine on his own, it was beautiful to hear that such a perfect young man could think so well of him. He glowed with affection for the boy and it was the first time he believed, given time, he could love Peter too. How could he not? The boy was perfection.

 Still, a little disbelief remains. Tony lowered his head and could no longer look Peter in the eye. “The thing with Pepper, I really tried. I cut back the hours in the lab, tried to be on point for all the social events, I even started to care more about the company. Still, it wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.”

 Peter put a finger under his chin and gently lifted his head. “And what did she say about why she left?”

 Tony shrugged. “That it didn’t work out between us?”

 “Exactly.” Peter smiled warmly at him. “That it didn’t work out between you, not because of you. She wasn’t the right one and that’s fine. You don’t have to cut back the hours in the lab if that’s what you love. Of course, relationships are about compromises, but not about losing yourself. If you have to change for things to work, you’ll be miserable. Tony, Pepper loves you as a friend, I’ve seen that much these past few weeks. You two didn’t work out. But maybe we will. Give us a chance.” Peter started to feel desperate.

 Tony was still not completely convinced. “Pete, how is it right that lust for you as much as I do? You’re more than twenty-years younger than me. I can’t be good for you. The things I wanna do to you, that cannot be normal.”

 Peter smiled at him and brushed through his hair. “Tony, if you think it's wrong for you to feel this way, then my feeling would be wrong too. I love it when you take control and I want to submit to you. Even that means I can't come.” Peter grimaced looking at his neglected dick. “I want this, you want this. That’s all that should matter.”

 Tony looked into the boy's eyes, searching for anything to tell him it was a lie, but Peter’s face was full of honesty. “You really want this?” He asked, sounding more like a child than a grown-up dominant man.

 “I want this.” Peter confirmed. “But only if you try to open up to me. I want you to tell me about your doubts, to give me the chance to help with your guilt. You’re not the only one that has to accept his desires. I almost died of embarrassment when I called you Daddy earlier.”

 Tony swallowed and pressed the boy closer to his chest. “I love it when you call me that, Peter. Don’t be ashamed.” He whispered in his boy’s ear.

 “Then try not to feel guilty about your urges too, Tony.” Peter replied, settling against his chest. “I want you, all of you, maybe the soulshit isn’t as bad as I thought. Maybe we really are a perfect match.”

 Tony buried his face in Peter’s neck. Maybe, Peter was right. There was no other explanation why Peter was so perfect for him otherwise. He wanted to keep the boy and not to fuck it up like he had a million times before.

 “I’ll try, Peter.” He promised, leaning back so he could look the boy in the eye again. “I’ll try, but it won’t always work. There will be times when it will be hard for you to like me.”

 “I just want you to try.” Peter reassured him. “Even when it will be hard.”

 And then Peter kissed him, not a heated kiss, but a sweet one. And Tony let go, gave himself to Peter, knowing if there was anyone he could trust, it was his boy.

Chapter 5

Five weeks later

  Tony Stark was leaning against the passenger door of his new black Tesla. He had parked on the side of a ragged street in Queens, his car obviously not fitting in. The apartment building he was waiting in front of was grey and dirty, but it looked slightly better than the other houses he was surrounded by. Although it was already getting dark, the street was still busy. Children were running around, adults were carrying groceries home and a group of young people were chatting in a corner.

 Everyone was looking at him, of course they were. He stood out with his flashy car and the fancy suit, carrying a bouquet of 21 roses in his arms. More than half the people probably recognized him, wondering why the fuck Tony Stark, billionaire and genius, was standing in a ragged street in Queens on a Friday evening. He didn’t care, used to that kind of attention.

 Tony was waiting for Peter outside his house. He wanted to pick up the boy and take him to a restaurant because today was Peter’s birthday. Finally. Tony couldn’t wait any longer. He wanted to show the boy off to the world, everyone had to know that Peter was his, and his alone. In the past, he’d tried to keep his flings to himself as long as possible. He hated the media and their interest in his lovelife, but with Peter, his soulmate, it was different. He intended to tell everyone that the beautiful boy belonged to him, he would shout it from the rooftop if necessary, and taking Peter out in public would be the first step.

 On top of that, Tony’s control was almost broken. He couldn’t resist anymore; he didn’t want to wait any longer. All his guilt had slowly disappeared over the lasts weeks and it was getting harder and harder every day to keep his hands off his boy. And he didn’t want to hold back anymore, he planned to devour the boy, to show him everything he could do to his body. Resisting had only been more difficult after he’d known that the boy wanted him as much.

 Before his thoughts went too far, Tony concentrated on the plans he had made for the evening and the flowers in his hands. They were beautiful red roses and he had paid a small fortune for them, but he didn’t care. Peter deserved everything and Tony was wealthy enough to provide for his boy.

 When Peter stepped out of the door, Tony smiled at him. The boy looked amazing, even more than usual. He was dressed in a plain shirt and dress pants with a soft grey coat on top. Tony was speechless. The clothes fitted perfectly, and he smiled smugly after seeing the boy in the grey coat that Tony had bought him a week ago. Peter looked like his and that made the primitive part of his brain pleased.

 “Happy birthday, my boy.” Tony greeted him with a hug, burying his head in the boy’s curls and inhaling Peter’s sweet smell. The bouquet of flowers was forgotten in his hand. He had never been so happy in his life, being surrounded by his soulmate and seeing Peter’s beautiful smile almost every day.

 “Hey, Mister Stark.” Peter said mischievously, knowing exactly what he was doing to Tony with these words. The billionaire groaned. He had asked the boy weeks ago to call him Tony, and mostly he did, but Peter had discovered the effect of calling him Mr. Stark after a long day in the lab. To summarize, it had been another unsatisfactory evening.

 Tony enjoyed the hug, savouring Peters smell and the warmth of his body, but the boy tensed up after a few seconds. “You’re all right?” The billionaire asked concerned, overwhelmed by the urge to protect his soulmate.

 Peter blushed, eyes lowered on the ground and the primitive part of Tony’s brain cooed because of his innocence. “They’re all watching.”

 Across the street a group of people were staring at them with open mouths. Tony chuckled. “You have to get used to this. You’ll soon officially be my soulmate, people will be staring all the time.”

 Peter paled, looking at him with huge innocent eyes and Tony purred. His boy was the sweetest. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will protect you.” He couldn’t smoother his smug smile, protecting Peter satisfied something dark inside him. God, he felt like an animal. “I bought you some roses, do you want to put them in a vase before we go?”

 Peter smiled at him and nodded. While he was quickly running upstairs, Tony opened the door of his car, waiting for his boy to return. The billionaire had planned the whole day and he was a bit nervous, everything had to be perfect.

 “Thanks for the flowers, Tony.” Peter said as he got into the car, and Tony didn't know whether he was happy or not to be called by his first name again. Since he was still planning to take his boy to a restaurant, it was probably for the best.

  The drive didn’t take long, Tony made sure Peter didn’t have to spend his birthday in a car, and they arrived in front of an Italian Restaurant in the middle of New York. It wasn’t the fanciest one because Tony knew Peter wouldn’t be comfortable, but he insisted to spoil his boy on his special day, so it would be way above Peter’s budget. Tony parked the car, opened the door for Peter und lead him into the restaurant.

 All heads turned as they entered. Some people looked at them with disgust, probably because of the age-gab, others were jealous, and Tony enjoyed the attention of the other guests. He wanted everyone to know that Peter was his.

 “Mister Stark, I would like to show you your table.” A waiter approached them before they had a chance to ask for themselves. Tony smiled, helping Peter out of his coat and gave a servant both of their jackets. He couldn’t stop himself from placing his hand on Peter’s lower back, and he felt the boy shivering under the touch.

 They were led to a table next to the window with a beautiful view of the central park. Tony could see that Peter was smiling and seeing his boy happy helped him to settle. He would make sure Peter got everything he could ever wish for.

 “Do you like it?” He asked the boy, unable to completely supress the nervousness from his voice.

 “It’s amazing.” Peter beamed at him. “I love Italian. How did you know?”

 “Intuition.” Tony lied. The truth is, he had asked Pepper, bugged her for a whole week until she caved and promised to subtly ask Peter what his favourite food was. Tony still owed her a bottle of wine for the troubles, especially since Peter had apparently not noticed the interrogation.

 “I’m so happy, it’s my birthday at last.” Peter whined. “I swear, I nearly died of blue balls.”

 It was the first time Tony blushed. Fuck, how could his boy say something like this in a restaurant? Peter had been so shy and innocent when they met and now, he was starting to express his own desires. Even though he was still pliant and sweet when Tony showed a little dominance.

 “Don’t say things like this.” Tony groaned. “Or I'm not gonna hold back and fuck you right here on this table.”

 Peter just grinned smugly. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

 Before Tony had a chance to devour his boy or be embarrassed further, the waiter interrupted their flirt. “Would you like something to drink yet?” He asked and offered them the menus. Tony ordered a white wine and Peter a coke.

 When the waiter left their table, Peter looked at him overwhelmed. “The menu is in Italian.” He complained. “I don’t understand anything.”

 Tony took his hand and stroked it with his thumb. “Don’t worry, sweet boy. Do you want me to translate or should I order for you?” He pleaded silently that the boy would let him order, trust him to pick something he liked.

 “You can order.” The boy answered, blushing again and Tony suppressed a growl. The boy was literally his dream.

 Tony chose Spaghetti with chanterelle for himself and Pizza with shrimp for his boy. Of course, he had asked Pepper to find out what Peter liked, to make a good impression in case Peter allowed him to order. And according to Peter’s face when the food arrived, Tony picked well and he was rewarded with a bright smile.

 The conversation during the meal was comfortable between them, had spent enough time together in the laboratory to get to know the other. They had already skipped the awkwardness that usually goes along with dating.

 Tony took the opportunity to watch his boy thoroughly, his gestures when he talked about his project and his sparkling eyes when he told him all about the last family day with May. While Peter was chatting about his last conversation with Pepper, Tony felt a sudden urge to hold the boy close. Pepper was very important to him, and when he heard his soul mate talk so nicely about his ex-wife, happiness gushed in his chest. Instead of being jealous, Peter not only accepted Pepper into Tony's life, but also tried to make friends with her.

 Feelings Tony had never felt before, grew inside him. “I love you, Peter.” Tony blurted out, interrupting Peter mid-sentence.

 Peter gaped at him like a fish, completely silent. Doubts arose in Tony, accompanied by a sudden urge to leave the situation, but he fought to sit still. He wouldn’t run away, not now, not when the boy in front of him was so perfect. Tony’s hands started to sweat, and he lowered his gaze, unable to look Peter the eye anymore. His whole life was either running away from uncomfortable feelings or trying to change for his partner. But with Peter everything was different, with Peter he allowed himself to be vulnerable, even if he gave power to someone else who would be capable to destroy him.

 “Omg, Tony.” Peter cried out, his voice trembling and Tony raised his head, afraid he’d said something wrong. On Peter’s face was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on the other man, reminding Tony of an angle. Not that he had ever seen an angle before, but that’s how he imagined them to look. Peter took his hand across the table, squeezing it lightly and beamed at him. “I love you, too.”

 Tony felt a smile spreading across his face. He was happier than he'd ever been in his life. This beautiful stunning boy loved him too and belonged to him. He grabbed the boy’s neck, pulling him closer across the desk to press a sweet kiss on his lips. Peter melted under his touch, leaning his forehead against Tony’s and panting even minutes after they separated.

 Tony cleared his throat, still overwhelmed by his own feelings. He had been so caught up in the kiss, in Peter, that he hadn’t noticed that other guests were taking pictures of them. It would be all over the media the next day anyway, but Tony didn’t care. Peter was an adult, and it was his own decision who he wanted to date.

 “I have a present for you.” Tony declared. “Do you want to open it now or later at home?”

 “I don’t want to wait.” Peter’s eyes sparkled and he grinned smugly. “But I don’t want to open it here either. Let’s leave.” The boy licked his lips seductively and Tony let out a groan. One gesture from Peter and he started to lose his control again. Maybe it was time he took what he craved.

 “Check, please.” He waved at the waiter, his eyes not once leaving Peter’s lips.

  ~*~

  In retrospect, Tony couldn’t remember how they left the restaurant. The only thing he recalled was his tongue in Peter’s mouth and how the little ass wiggled when he grabbed him firmly. He hoped that no reporters were lingering in front of the restaurant or he would be able to see a detailed picture of him ravaging Peter in every gossip rag tomorrow.

 It was one of the hardest things Tony had ever done when he released his boy from his grip to get in the car. He would much rather hold him close, keeping him in his arms forever, but unless they wanted to be arrested for public indecency, they had to drive home now. Tony was almost at the point of no return and if he didn’t get a grip on himself right now, it would be too late.

 During the drive, Peter couldn’t sit still. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony watched him shifting on his seat, spreading his legs as wide as possible and when his boy pressed his palm against the bulge in his trousers, Tony growled. “Stop that, boy. Or you won’t come today at all.”

 Peter winced; eyes fluttering shut and lips slightly open, inviting the billionaire to slip his cock right in. Tony’s finger clasped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white and he forced his eyes back on the road. Fortunately, Peter listed to him and removed his hand from his crotch.

  It felt like hours until Tony opened the door to his apartment, although it probably took about ten minutes. He had been waiting for his boy for months and now, so close to his goal, he was about to lose himself.

 As soon as the door slammed shut, Tony pressed Peter against it, hands tucking at his hair to bare the boy’s throat. Peter moaned from the sharp pain, surrendering to him and Tony felt his cock harden from the trusting gesture. He pressed his lips on the boy’s jaw, sucking and marking him up, watching the skin bruise under his assault. Peter melted in the touch and tilted his head even further, giving Tony access to his delicate throat. Having Peter at his mercy, the primal part of his brain preened, knowing the boy was his, and his alone.

 Tony had had many lovers before. Some a little more dominant, some submissive, but never before had anyone given himself so completely in his hands, trusting him with his pleasure and he noticed what he had been missing all these years. Nobody was as close to being perfect as Peter.

 A sudden urge to kiss the boy, to hold him close, overcame him and he pressed his lips tenderly on Peter’s. “I love you.” Tony whispered in his mouth, enjoying the boy’s taste on his tongue. His feelings were so overwhelming that it took him a second to deal with them. “Mine.” He said softly, nibbling at Peter’s lower lip, demanding entrance to his mouth.

 Peter moaned again, opening his lips slightly so that Tony could slip his tongue in. He explored every inch of the boy’s mouth, trying to memorize the taste of him, unwilling to ever let go of Peter’s lips. But the boy had other plans. He pressed his body against Tony’s, rubbing his clothed cock against his leg and whimpered like he would die if Tony stopped. Tony had always loved it when his partners showed him their pleasure and Peter was a needy little thing, moaning and panting exactly how Tony liked it.

 “Mr. Stark, please.” Peter begged, sparking off a fire in Tony’s body with his words. “I need you, I need your cock. Please, let me suck it. Please.” Peter’s voice was trembling, his eyes huge and filled with tears. Never before had anyone begged so sweetly for his cock and Tony couldn’t refuse him.

 He lifted the boy into his arms, carrying him to the sofa in his living room. He sat down, dropping his boy gently between his legs. Peter shifted until he kneeled comfortably, his pink lips close to the billionaire’s clothed cock. He tried to press his face against Tony’s thigh, but Tony stopped him with a firm grip in his hair. Peter cried out in frustration.

 “Behave yourself, boy.” Tony growled, his fingers pressing against the boy’s neck. “I want you to earn Daddy’s cock. I want you crawling in front of me, while you beg me to fuck your mouth. How does that sound, baby boy?”

 Tony felt the boy shivering under his touch, lost in his arousal and he watched Peter, pleased with himself. His boy was a vision, sitting between his legs and waiting for his cock, his lips slightly parted and his tongue darting out. Peter relaxed in front of him, pliant and waiting for the next order. Tony could sit like this for hours, watching Peter on his knees in front of him, begging for his cock.

 Tony’s control snapped after a few seconds and he unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock. Peter’s gaze was fixed on him, watching as Tony stroked himself to full hardness. The boy’s eyes sparkled at the sight and Tony felt his ego burst at the covetous look on Peter’s face. He knew his cock was bigger than average, but when he saw that the boy liked his treat, it clearly inflated his ego.

 “I want you to tab twice against my knees if it’s too much, you understand me, sweet boy?” Tony said forcefully, making sure the boy had understood him as he nodded.  

  “May I, please Mr. Stark?” Peter begged and Tony smirked at the desperation in the boy’s voice. He gestured him to come closer and took his own cock in his right hand, smearing his precome all over Peter’s face.

 “Look at you, so desperate for me. You can’t wait for my cock filling your mouth, can you, boy?”

 Peter whimpered and opened his mouth wider, trying to coax the billionaire to fed him his cock. But Tony took his time, touching his cheeks and his lips with the tip of his cock without giving Peter what he wanted. Peter’s lips looked gorgeous coated with his precome.

 Only when Peter was almost crying with desire did Tony show mercy and pressed the tip of his cock into Peter’s mouth. Tony was ready to burst. The warm wet heat made him go crazy and he closed his eyes, fighting against the urge to thrust deeply. Peter tentatively licked across his slit, tasting the salty precome and Tony felt himself twitching in Peter’s mouth, his tip bumped against Peter’s throat.

 He had always loved getting head from his partner, he loved the rush of control when he buried his hands in his partner’s hair, owning his mouth and controlling his breathing. But Peter was something else. He was so beautiful on his knees in front of Tony like he belonged there, like he was made for sucking Tony’s cock. It had never felt as intense as it did today and his whole body was tingling with the rush of power.

 Greedily, Peter tried to get more of the man into his mouth, but Tony stopped him effectively by grabbing his hair. “We have time, Peter.” He scolded the boy. “Take it slowly.” Patience would make everything so much better.

 Peter whined, but Tony stood firm, pulling his cock out of Peter’s mouth. “Behave boy, or you’ll get nothing.”

 Peter stopped struggling immediately and became pliant once again. He craved to get the billionaire back inside and Tony could see Peter’s hard cock was straining inside his jeans, but the boy kept quiet, waiting for anything the man was willing to give him.

 Tony only lasted a minute until he pressed back in, giving the boy more of his cock this time. Peter moaned; the vibrations around him felt like heaven and Tony groaned loudly. Gone was the slow rhythm. He started to thrust into the boy’s mouth, feeding him more and more every time he dived back in. Peter was taking him like a champ, sucking him, pleasing him, doing everything he demanded of the boy.

 Peter had started to rub his cock against Tony’s leg and the billionaire could see the look in the boy’s eyes, could see how far gone he was. He was deeply trapped in his submission for him and Tony promised himself to take care of the boy, to show him pleasure he had never experienced before. If he commanded Peter to come in his pants now, Peter would probably, spilling over Tony’s legs like a dog in heat.

 “You are made for this, made to be my little cock slut. I just need to feed you my cock and you are ready to burst, rubbing all over me like a bitch in heat.”

 Peter groaned and Tony used the opportunity to press deeper. The boy’s throat convulsed around his heavy flesh and he started to gag, but Tony showed no mercy. He fucked Peters throat however he wanted, only drawing back when the boy needed to breath. He loved the tight heat surrounding his tip, loved that Peter didn’t complain but took him like he was made for it. Nothing had ever felt better than Peter’s throat convulsing around his tip and he lost himself in the moment with his boy.  

  When Tony sensed he was getting close, he pulled back, resting his tip on the boy’s tongue. He didn’t want to come too soon, he wanted to bend the boy over later, burying himself in that plump little ass. Peter whined at the loss, begging with his innocent eyes for his cock once more, but he didn’t move. Tony was proud of him.

 “I want to take you to the bedroom and fuck you.” Tony growled, gripping the base of his cock to stop himself from spilling. “Is that okay with you?” He watched his boy closely, making sure he didn't do anything Peter didn't want to do.

 “Please, Mr. Stark.” Peter was already begging, shifting on his knees, unable to get any friction on his neglected cock.

 Tony closed his eyes and pulled himself together so as not to lose his patience. “I want you to go to the bedroom now. Undress yourself and get comfortable on the bed. I’ll be right there.”

 “Yes, Daddy.” Peter replied, sending a jolt of arousal through Tony’s body. The billionaire composed himself, needing a second to get the feelings under control. He was almost relieved when the boy left him alone, afraid he would come too soon if he didn’t get a second to calm down. He no longer young, and it would end too quickly if he followed right away.

  Still, he couldn't stand it for five minutes until he went into the bedroom, getting lube and a condom from the bathroom first. The view that greeted him was breath-taking. Peter had taken off all his clothes and folded them neatly beside the bed. He was lying on his stomach, shoulders pressed into the bed while his ass was lifted into the air. The boy had spread his legs like he was presenting for Tony, his milky white cheeks on display.

 “Baby, you’re beautiful.” Tony gasped in wonder, carefully stroking his fingers across the white globes. He couldn’t resist spreading Peter’s cheeks with his hands, revealing the tight pink hole in between. Peter whimpered.

 He had been dreaming about that ass ever since he had spilled over Peter’s back. He’d imagined what it would feel like to thrust into the tight little pucker, glistening with lube and puffy from Tony fingering it open. He had fought the urge for month, always holding back and now that he was allowed to touch, it felt like his dream would come true. He gently tabbed his middle finger against the pucker, testing how the skin would feel.

 Peter cried under the touch, squirming on the bed and trying to press his ass closer to Tony.

 “Shh, sweet boy.” Tony cooed, gently caressing Peter’s back. “We have time. Don’t try to suck my finger down your greedy little hole without lube, okay?” Peter answered with a whine, sounding like a kicked puppy and Tony couldn’t stop himself from thinking how cute his boy was.

 “Daddy, please. I can’t wait any longer. Give me a finger, now.”

 Tony slapped his ass a response, watching the flesh wiggle afterwards. He loved his boy’s eagerness, but he couldn’t let such demanding behaviour slide. “Patience, boy.” He growled. “Patience or you will get nothing.”

 Tony loved how Peter reacted to the threat, how pliant and good he became, how he fought against himself to be his best for Tony but holding back was as straining for the billionaire as it was for his boy. So, he flipped the cap of the lube open and poured a huge amount directly onto Peter’s lower back, letting it dribble down in Peter’s crack. Peter flinched from the cold and a sadistic part of Tony enjoyed it immensely.

 “I’m gonna spread you open.” Tony promised. “Make you ready and gaping for my cock. I’ll fuck you with my fingers until you’re begging for more.”

 “Please, please. I’ll do anything.” The begging went straight to Tony’s cock, his baby was marvellous when he was losing his mind.

 Tony coated his fingers in the clear fluid, one hand wrapped around his own cock without moving it, the other one moving lower to Peter’s entrance. His right index finger tipped against Peter’s hole teasingly, and Tony watched with smug satisfaction how it twitched. The boy’s breath quickened and strained muscles showed how difficult it was for Peter not to move.

 “Shh, you’re doing fine, my boy. So beautiful, so perfect. Relax, open up for me, Pete. Let me in.” Tony started to mumble, helping his boy to relax under his words, while his finger still played with the tight pink pucker. He had never seen anything more beautiful than Peter in at the moment, lying there so trustingly and obediently, moaning occasionally under Tony’s hands. He didn’t want to wait any longer.

 Much less carefully than he had originally planned, Tony thrusted his finger in, forcing the wet heat to open up. Both moaned simultaneously. Peter was warm and soft inside, wet from the huge amount of lube, and Tony couldn’t wait to split him open on his cock. But he could seriously hurt Peter if he went too fast, so he was content to add another finger.

 Peter’s discipline broke when Tony spread both fingers to prepare him for the billionaire’s cock. “Daddy, p-please more. I can take more. Please, I want it to burn a l-little.” He moved his hips back, impaling himself on Tony’s fingers. He was a responsive little thing, already moaning like he was fucked thoroughly.

 And who was Tony do deny his beautiful boy such a lovely request? He lubed up a third finger, pressing it in the tight little hole next to the other two. It was too fast, the stretch must burn like hell, but Peter took it like a champ, rocking his hips back and forth, already moaning for another one.

 Tony starred at him in wonder, his own cock painfully hard in his grip, barely holding back. “Almost there, baby. Just a few more seconds.”

 Tony withdraw his finger, making Peter whine about the loss, opened a condom and pulled it over his leaking cock. He reached for the lube bottle again, purring more on his length and dropped it open onto the sheets. He didn’t care about the mess he was making, too focused on the vision in front of him.

 “Can you turn around for me, boy?” Tony requested, helping Peter to get into the desired position. His boy way laying on his back and Tony could see the cute blush on his face, his eyes sparkling with lust.

 He gripped Peter’s legs, forcing them wide open to make room for himself. He lined his cock, the tip pressed against the stretched hole, but not quiet bracing it. Peter was lost in his pleasure, squirming on the bed, his neglected cock pulsing and leaking onto his stomach.

 “Please, Mr. Stark. I can’t wait anymore.” Tony wasn’t sure if he could ever get enough from his boy’s begging, loving how lost and open Peter was in bed. He didn’t play his arousal, he was truly losing himself in Tony’s arms. Savouring the closeness to his soulmate, Tony pressed in.

  It was like coming home and Tony let out a loud moan. The boy’s hole slowly opened up for him, letting his cock in inch by inch. Peter was tight, tighter than anyone Tony had ever fucked before and he gripped him so good he was almost afraid of shooting early. He couldn’t compare it to anything he had ever felt, his whole body was tingling, buzzing from the pleasure and his mind shut down. He no longer thought about work, about his lab or his problems, the only thing on his mind was Peter, nothing matters but giving Peter the same pleasure he was feeling.

 When Tony had bottomed out, he paused for a second, giving Peter time to adjust to his girth. He loved holding Peter down, choking him on his cock, but he didn’t want to hurt him seriously. His boy, on the other hand, didn’t care about the pain that much. He bucked backwards, impaling himself further on Tony’s cock, moaning like a slut for him.

 “Fuck, sweet boy. You need it bad, don’t you?” Tony teased, catching the boy’s hips to stop him from moving. “Such a slut for Daddy’s cock.”

 Peter cried out, arms wrapping around Tony’s neck and his hole twitching around the thick girth. Tony could see the frustration in Peter’s eyes, tears running down his cheeks. Out of pity, perhaps because he couldn't wait any longer either, the billionaire started to move, his hips pistoling his length in Peter’s body.

 “Look at you, boy.” Tony gasped. “You’re usually so shy, but once you get dicked down properly, you’re whimpering like a slut. Is that all you need to relax? A fat hard cock in your ass, filling you up?”

 “Yes, Daddy.” Peter cried, shame long forgotten. “B-but only yours, Daddy. Need only your cock.”

 Tony snarled possessively, his cock twitching at the possibility of owning this lovely boy.

  They did not have time to take things slowly, they had done slow in the last months. Tony forced himself into Peter’s body again and again, watching the pink pucker where they were joint, and he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He shifted slightly, aiming for Peter’s prostate and a loud cry confirmed he had found it.

 “So good for me, baby boy.” Tony was panting. “You look so beautiful spread around my cock. You were made for me, made to be my little slut, weren’t you?”

 “Yes, Daddy. Yes, please. Made for you, only for you.” Peter was really a sweet little thing.

 Peter’s untouched cock was angry red, bouncing between them and Tony loved the desperate picture. He didn’t touch it, gripping his boy’s hips tighter instead, thrusting into Peter’s hole like his life depended on it.

 The boy was about to lose himself, his moans getting louder and louder, his hips twitching on the sheets with such force that Tony was unable to hold them still. Tony’s pleasure kept rising and he knew he would come soon, so he fumbled between their bodies to touch Peters cock.

 “Daddy, T-Tony, I’m coming.” Peter screamed. “Please, I’m so close.”

 “Then come for me.” Tony said, adoration in his voice. “Come for me, now.”

 As soon as he touched the tip of Peter’s cock, his boy was coming. He convulsed, his hole squeezing around Tony while his back lifted off the bed. The boy’s eyes rolled back in his head and Tony watched in awe as Peter was consumed by his orgasm. He was so beautiful, Tony felt warmth spreading in his chest.

 He was close, too, keeping up the thrusts to search for his own orgasm. He continued fucking Peter, watching his boy riding the height of his pleasure, never slowing down. Peter’s face was twisted from overstimulation, but Tony showed no mercy.

 He felt himself getting close, the familiar tingle starting in his spine and he picked up his pace. White hot pleasure rushed through his body, amplified by Peter’s still twitching hole. Tony came, his hips stuttering while he buried himself as deep in the boy as possible. It was overwhelming, waves and waves of pleasure were crashing down on him, and his cock was spilling inside of the condom. He came longer than he ever did before, needing minutes to catch his breath.

  When Tony felt like moving again, he pulled out carefully, earning a wince from his boy. He stripped off the condom, fastened it with a knot and dropped it on the floor. Then, he picked up some handkerchiefs from the bedside table, cleaning Peter sporadically, before pulling him into his arms.

 “I love you.” Tony mumbled, pressing a kiss on Peter’s forehead and listening to their fast beating hearts.

 “I love you too.” His boy shifted, until Tony was laying on his back, Peter’s head resting on his chest.

 “Tony, it was… wow.” Peter said, making the billionaire smile, and wondering how he had ever earned such luck.

 “Yes, it was.” Tony replied, stroking Peter’s bare back as he lost himself in the moment.

 Being close to Peter was all he could ever want. He wanted to fuck his boy, spend time with his boy and cuddle him to death. He wanted him as a partner more than he had ever wanted Pepper. Peter was perfect for him, and with the boy b his side, Tony knew he could face everything.

 On the bedside drawer was Peters present, still wrapped up. Tony had booked a trip through Europe, planning to show Peter more than just the hospital in Switzerland, but he couldn't bring himself to get up so quickly to give Peter his present.

 His eyes drifted shut, satisfied with the good sex and Tony knew he had never been happier in his life. It didn't matter what he would read about them in the media the next day, he could bear anything if only his soul mate was by his side.

[shakespeareanqueer]

Welcome to Josie’s Diner (Avengers Library for the Study of Enhanced Persons and Heroes, Chapter 7)

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Series summary: When you wake up with no memories in the Avengers compound, Tony takes you under his wing and gives you a job as Librarian and Archivist for the Avengers. What is this alpha, beta, omega stuff, and why does Bucky Barnes so good?

Chapter summary: You meet Bucky at the diner for a date, but someone else gets there first

Word count: 1,112 words

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Contents: Omegaverse. Mutual pining. Jealous reader. Uncomfortable Bucky. Blunt and slightly crude omega stranger. Fluff. 

A/N: Sorry it’s been so long since my last update! Classes starting up has really thrown off my groove. Working to get back into a routine, so I’ll hopefully be posting more often, though not as often as I was over break. Anywho, enjoy this little filler chapter!

Tags for this series, Bucky fics, or all my fics are all open! Shoot me an ask!

Photo by Lee Cartledge on Unsplash

You walked into the diner, leaving your helmet up to scan around the crowd. Sometimes you had sensory processing difficulties and your brain wouldn’t always alert you when your eyes landed on what you were looking for, so your AI system, MARVIN, helped. You had him installed in glasses too, but as long as you had the helmet up, why not use it?

You vaguely clocked the waitress passing the door with a tray in her hand saying in a chipper voice, “Welcome to Josie’s Diner!” and gave her a small wave in return.

When the figure you were searching for showed up in your view, your helmet dinged in your ear. There he was at at the counter, just where he said he’d be waiting for you. His back was turned to you, though. And he wasn’t alone.

There was a girl hanging off Bucky’s arm. She was batting her eyelashes and stroking his arm and something in your chest tightened. Of course, he wasn’t bound to you in any way. You were the one insisting things go slowly. He had every right to flirt with anyone he wanted, even if he was convinced you were his True Mate.

Just to torture yourself, you turned the receiver up higher on the headphone of your suit, making it so you could pick up the sound over there from your place right inside the door. You felt less guilty about it knowing that he took advantage of his enhanced hearing sometimes too.

“I can smell your rut coming on, and I’m sure you can smell my pre-heat on me…” The girl, who was apparently an omega, was attempting a sultry drawl. Bucky turned his head slightly your way but angled at the floor. He still didn’t see you.

You could see the redness in his cheeks, and you weren’t sure if it was from the impropriety of what she was saying rubbing against his 1940s sensibilities, or if he was intrigued and aroused by the prospect of her… implication.

An implication which she then stated outright. “What do you say we help each other out?”

To your relief, he shook his head firmly. “Sorry, but no.”

He didn’t call her ‘doll’ or any of those pet-names he used for you which you assumed he used for everyone. Nonetheless, the omega didn’t let up on her touchy-feely-ness, invading Bucky’s personal space.

The skin-tight nano-tech iron-suit you had on allowed for pheromones to travel in to reach your nose but not to travel out, so as not to reveal your location. You didn’t understand the technology behind it; you were a librarian, not a scientist.

You didn’t understand the biology behind the whole scent and pheromones thing in the first place, but you could smell the anxiety on Bucky. His distinct scent hitting you was able to be parsed out from the smell of everyone else in the joint, only the strawberries smelt rotten. And hell if that didn’t send the omega in you into overdrive. The scent of your an alpha in distress activated something within you, and you could no longer remain the passive observer at the door.

You finally let the helmet melt away on your suit, which released your scent gland to the air and let your pheromones wash over towards Bucky. As soon as it they hit his nose, he perked up and swiveled towards the door, his smile bright when he made eye contact with you.

As you approached you kept your eyes on Bucky, but you couldn’t help but notice in your periphery the omega’s eyes narrowing at you. You let the rest of the suit melt into the arc reactor pendant around your neck, revealing your simple but classy date outfit: a floral skirt with a lace hem and elastic waist, a yellow t-shirt under a men’s suit vest and leather jacket, and heeled military booties on your feet.

“Sorry I’m late!” You wrapped your arms around Bucky, which forced the omega to remove her hand from his arm so he could wrap them around your waist. You probably wouldn’t have greeted him this way—in this friendly and touchy a manner—if it wouldn’t have accomplished that goal, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Traffic was a bitch so I just hopped out of the car and flew the rest of the way here. Poor Happy is still stuck out there; we’ll be lucky if he makes it to us in time to drive us home.”

Only after your entire spiel did you twist out of Bucky’s embrace, keeping one arm over his shoulder as you turned to face the omega. Likewise, he kept one arm around your waist. You put on a shocked face, like you were just noticing the stranger so close to you and your date.

“Oh sorry! Did you want an autograph or something?” you asked, lacing your voice with as much innocence as you could feign.

She ignored you. “Is this why you don’t want to knot with me?”

Geez was she blunt.

You could smell distress leaking into Bucky’s scent again. You knew how much he hated confrontation. On some instinct, you leaned back slightly, exposing more of your neck to him. With his eyes, he asked for permission, which you granted with a small nod. He dipped his nose into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, inhaling your calming scent, and his pheromones began to balance out, relaxing you both.

“I’m sorry why would he be knotting you?” you asked. It was difficult to focus on your little innocence charade with Bucky’s breath hot on your neck but you managed.

“Because a good alpha doesn’t leave an omega vulnerable!” She put her hands on her hips to seem more dominant, but her voice was whiny.

You looked at her in confusion. “You’re a grown woman; it’s not ‘leaving you vulnerable’ to reject your advances.” You held your hands up in air quotes, one of which was on the other side of Bucky’s head since your arm was still around his shoulder. “It’s not like he’s leaving you naked, covered in meat and in the path of a hungry lion. If he said no to your come-ons, move on. Doesn’t matter if it’s to do with me or just ‘cause he doesn’t want to. He’s an adult who can make his own decisions about who to knot with.”

The omega departed with an audible huff but no verbal response.

You turned to Bucky and gave an apologetic sigh. His gaze up at you communicated his gratitude and you smiled. “Lunch?”

ALSEPH Tag List

@wxstedhexrt​ @misplacedorphan​ @yennewolf

[thoseindarkness]

DtD News Nov 2020

Thank you to anyone who came back for this nonsense. For brevity I have an announcement that I want to make up front. I didn't have room for it last month so I pushed it back, but I can't anymore. I had to make one major revision to the published story. I want people to know about it.

This is the TLDR version. I tell a more in-depth story at the end.

ANNOUNCEMENT

The summary: I had a bad outline walking into writing Mistrust Goes Both Ways. I ran into a problem mid-story. Instead of stopping and taking the time I needed, I challenged myself to creatively solve my way out of my problems. I re-started with about half of what I'd written, published Mistrust Goes Both Ways, and restarting my outline with high hopes.  I was proud of myself for rising to the challenge.

Despite my best efforts, it didn't work out. In the end, I had to scrap my outline. I was able to structure the end I was going for and spent the end of 2019 trying to link the first two stories to the ending I wanted. It wasn't working. Then TRoS. Then COVID. Here we are. In June, I started experimenting with scrapping Mistrust and restarting from Read Between.

Mistrust Goes Both Ways will not be part of the finished story when I'm done. I know some of you love it. I love it. I have no intention of taking it down. I might, for a short time, when I'm posting the final story. I'll let you know if that happens and it will go back up afterward. I don't have specifics as there's no point planning for it now.

For right now, nothing is changing on my AO3 account. Feel free to read and comment to your hearts content. I promise it will stay up forever to remind me that some mistakes are worth sharing with others. I learned good lessons from this mistake. It stays.

That being said I think I owe you an actual update on the progress of this story.

WHAT THE HELL I DID THIS MONTH

After my first update I needed to re-integrate with Reylo friends. Funnily enough, that pulled me into another fic. I've been working on that between following this election. Now that it's called I can get back to writing. I tried a couple of times since I voted on Oct 30th, but I knew it wasn't what I wanted to be thinking about.

Thankfully, I've also begun doing more social/political essays lately. I'm not sure what overall form or shape those may take and I haven't published any. Still, I was creative and I did plenty of writing. Interestingly, all this political focus is good for Deceive the Deceiver. Spinning and listening to conspiracy theories is a big part of weaving a world like this one. A great deal comes from my thoughts and perceptions of the real world.

WHERE DTD IS

As of right now I am in the process of first drafting the entire story with Read Between as the starting point. That is, every one of the short stories in the series. What I'm doing is somewhere between a history, an outline and random scene writing. All of these elements are currently strung together in one long, continuous, chronological, first draft. It's everything from the history before Read Between (which starts in the 1930's), all the way to the final scene of DtD.

I'm taking all the good ideas I've created in the last couple of years and re-organizing them into a first pass. It's the skeleton and some of the meat now. I'm slowly building out now that I have a blank-er slate. It's about choosing what works and what doesn't.

I call it accordion writing. It just gets bigger and bigger. This outline will later level up into the first full story drafts for each part. I've got so much history when I finish this I might… I'm getting ahead of myself. Don't want to give too many clues away.

Another interesting thing that's happened recently is I've started pulling bits of other fic ideas that I’m just not gonna finish. A big chuck of the history I stole from a modern/academia AU where Ben and Rey are history students specializing in the ancient Jedi religion. Another was a complication between characters came from a canon story where I wanted to paint the relationship with a new layer. We'll see if I can pull that off.

I spent a lot of time prior to this year focusing on the heroes but my villains hadn't gotten much love. Filling in the history has given me a chance to flesh out the villains. All their moves and countermoves, woven through the bits I already have, are spinning a pretty tapestry. Oh, the villains are so much fun to write!

This other fic came together in the same sort of accordion fashion and it's been fun working through the kinks in the process now that I've seen some of the weak points on a scale like DtD. I think I've mentioned, but this is a writing experiment for me and I'm most invested now in improving my process and clue-threading with DtD. This other fic is helping me test it on a smaller scale.

Not that this needs to get any longer, I'm just going to throw pretense out the window and go with complete vanity. If you don't give a wet shit about my life (and I don't blame you) you have reached the end of your journey. I hope to see you next month. If not, then I leave you with this parting:

May we meet again in our next fandom, through mutes and not as rival shippers.

The following is the ridiculous story of my ups and downs with Deceive the Deceiver. I figure if I explain to you how much I'm invested in this story some of you will stop worrying that I'm going to abandon it. Trust me. I'm not.

This tale stretches from NANOWRIMO 2018 and the prompt that started it, through the ups and downs of 2019 and 2020, to the writing of last month's letter. Buckle up. I love bumpy rides.

DtD: from NANO '17 to COVID-19

This story truly starts in December 2017 when I drenched the seat beneath me during Last Jedi. I'm a TLJ shipper. I got caught on the thirst train. It hit a time when writing was becoming a really big part of my life. I've been writing since I was a kid. I stopped for a while and came back to it. It's a long story. Ultimately, I'd started writing a lot a few years earlier. A mix of fic and originals but I was running into problems so I start reading a bunch of books to get better. TLJ lit the fires. NO joke TLJ came out on the 15th. I have pages of writing from the 20th.

2018 was Reylo year! I was already on Tumblr for my previous fandom (Batman comics). I found Reylo AU week which is in August. I submitted a story for that. It was the first fic I published for Reylo. Fast-forward August to November. I'm in the Writing Den on Discord and someone throws out this spy prompt. People start running with. Throwing ideas around. One of those was the snuggie in Mistrust! I have that conversation saved and story spots for each crazy thing they threw out. Finally, I said I'd do it!

Mind you, this is November 2nd. Nano has just started and the event is about "turning off your internal editor." This prompt consumed me. I was trying to keep up with SpaceWaffleHouseTM that first year. I did, btw. We both crested 100,000. It was my first Nano. Word count is not my problem. Organizing my crazy ambitious ideas is my problem. Some of that 100k was other stories, like Custard which I wrote half of in November and the other half Jan/Feb 2019. Most of it… probably 80k of it… was DtD.

Read Between the Lies is currently 33,710. I wrote at least 20k of that during that first Nano, as well as outlines and scenes for what I thought would be the starting point. I remember wanting to write Read Between to "get into their headspace" by writing their first meeting. I didn't think it would become a whole story. I was just going with it then. Any idea that came to mind.

I took December 2019 off for a few reasons. Some personal. Some burnout. I'm one of those people that can use writing to relieve stress, but I was so exhausted from that month-long writing sprint. By the last week I was dragging to get the final four or five thousand words to hit 100k.

Also, what I had by the end (no internal editor) was a bird nest of ideas that had too many beginnings, not enough middles, and endings to go around. I knew one thing right away: I knew I had more than one story. There were so many fun ideas. I figured, what the hell. I knew another thing right away: the prompt was at the end of the story. Like, the very end. Like, the last short story. Or the second to last short story, at the earliest. That hasn't changed. Ever. That's just where it ended up.

Between January and April of 2019 I touched DtD a few times. I kept coming back to it, reading through it, trying to untangle it. I made new notes on the stories. Expanded ideas. Tried to structure it. I figured out a bunch of good notes, but no real substance. The hardest thing was figuring out where to start! Did I:

(1) Start shortly before the prompt with Ben/Rey's relationship established and fill the story with the history?

(2) Start a lot earlier and build Ben/Rey's relationship from the beginning I'd written in Read Between?

If I'm being honest, Read Between was a lot better than I thought it would be and I didn't want to get rid of it. For a while I was thinking of publishing it last as a "prequel" if people liked the series.

Funny enough, the turning point happened May fourth weekend 2019…

In the week leading up, I was struggling through another story and decided to take a break for the weekend. I'd start writing again on Sunday when I met with my writing group. I met them through Nano. We used to meet at Panera. Now they meet on Discord. They mostly sprint though and I'm not a sprinter. I miss Panera. Anyway.

May 4th was a Sunday (look it up). I gave myself a writing break for the weekend and marathoned Star fucking Wars. It was nerd weekend. I was going to nerd out. I wore exclusively SW gear all weekend. I remember it well. It was the start of something fucking magical in my life.

Have I mentioned recently I really love this story. Trust me I will fucking finish it. Oh my god the demons won't leave until I do. Get them out of my head…

I had a pretty rockstar weekend. I believe the reason I skipped the PT that weekend was because I'd watched it the month before or so. Right after finishing the Clone Wars animated series (which is awesome and I strongly recommend both it and Rebels). I skipped them and SOLO.

Starting with R1, I went through in chronological order. I stopped at RotJ. I was with my family on Saturday and they were playing RotJ in the living room during the party. We talked about my marathon. My mom came over to my apartment after. We watched RoTJ properly. Then Force Awakens. It was too late by then to watch TLJ. I know I went straight to bed after my mom left on Saturday night.

Somewhere during or right after TFA I started thinking about Deceive the Deceiver. I don't remember what sparked it. I went to bed thinking about DtD. I know this with 100% certainty because I woke up thinking about again on Sunday and I thought it was quite odd.

I dream about this story in a way I have only dreamt about a precious few. Technicolor folks. It keeps me up at night.

I went to my writing group with (a) no plan for what to write, (b) a gordian knot that I had yet to untangle, (c) a sudden urge to re-read it. I opened my notes and read DtD through all our sprints. I read most of it during that writing session. We go about three hours.

That night I had Game of Thrones at my parent's. It was the (spoiler alert) episode where Arya kills the Night King. I remember because two minutes into the episode my brother's car broken down a few blocks from our apartment and we had to go help him. Derailed the whole night (this is foreshadowing).

Side note: I live with my younger brother and he's the best roommate I've ever had in my 35 years of life. Love you, Mo!

The episode was recording so we ran out. Had to leave the car in a parking lot. Someone had already helped him push it out of a puddle but my brother was soaked to mid-calf and the engine was shot. We dropped him off at home and I rode back to my Momma's crib to watch GoT. It was only the beginning of a wild night.

I went to bed late. I had to get up a few hours early to deal with the car before work started for either of us. I guess we were both hoping to avoid taking the day off. That wasn't going to happen. I drove home but I couldn't sleep. That crazy episode and the fact that my brain was already on fire with DtD.

I spent the wee hours finishing my re-read through the rough draft of Read Between the Lies. It saw my starting place. I started writing. I wrote through waiting in a parking lot, for the tow truck, in my car, at 6 am, with no sleep. I did a voice recording as I drove from the parking lot to the mechanic where the driver was taking my brother's car. I thought about it the whole way back. I sat on the sofa a wrote some more when we got home. I went to bed at 11 am and I'd written 10k more words for Read Between the Lies.

Somewhere between the chaos of May 5th and the official publish date on June 5th, Read Between got written. I know it didn't take too long. I remember sending it off to beta (by my amazing beta team on 1 & 2: Em, Jen, and Sai) and immediately pivoting to my outline. I slapped that together far too hastily and kept moving. I was going on holiday in the UK (I'm American and I'm ashamed) in early August so I planned on trying to publish Part 2 when I got back. At the very least I wanted it ready for beta.

Also some to admit, around the middle of 2019 I was fatigued with the fandom. We were hitting a lull. I was psyching myself up for the end and the exit. I was trying to clean house. I wanted to push out unfinished fics. To make them work. There was a lot of that mood from me in 2019. I was trying to make everything work. It's why Read Between came out, and that was a good thing. It's also why Mistrust came out, and that was a bad thing.

With that mentality looming, tough outline in hand, I started writing Mistrust before the end of May. I hit my snag sometime during the period I was publishing Read Between because by the time it was all done I knew I wasn't going to have a finished story by the time I left for London. I would figure it out when I got back. I picked up another project to distracted me from my problems for a little while. That is going to be an original if it's anything. One day…

At some point after I got back I started focusing heavily on problem solving. I had two stories already and a number of plot threads I had to resolve. I have heavy, heavy, heavy notes from September to December of 2019. Lots of possible ways to run this story. It sucks that a lot of that stuff isn't going to make it, but I'm recycling shit every day and I learned so much about the characters/story in that four month period. It really shaped the finished product in an important way.

This period is where I started to look at the bigger structure and how I was going to solve specific plot problems in each short story to bring the whole together. That focus on the different parts is important because it was the last thing on my mind when TRoS happened.

December 20th (the release date) is my birthday. My ass drove up to one of those Reylo-only screenings and I was surrounded by amazing people as I watched a movie that ruined my 35th birthday. Thankfully, I spent it in incomparable company. Thank you to all the hosts and super special thanks to Jen. Not only was she a DtD beta on both, she invited me. Thank you love! You are the reason I still remember that trip with joy.

Side note: I no longer hate TRoS. I've made my peace with it. I'm a far happier person now.

Needless to say, the only Reyloing I did in January of this year was venting frustration. Then I took a few weeks away from the fandom. I'd done my purging into the void. I knew other people still needed the space to vent but I had to get away. Once the toxin is out I couldn't let it back in.

What occurred starting in February of 2020 was a series of situations in which, every time I logged into Twitter I was faced with the kind of vitriol in the fandom that I don't need in my life. Some of it was still TRoS stuff, even as late as May. I'm not judging, I'm just saying, with the world on fire (literally), I didn't need it.

I don't think I have to explain why I've avoided social media like the plague since early this year. I live in America. If you heard anything about our recent President I don't have to explain any further what this year has been like. That has been par for course all over the world.

So here's my secret to happiness. I don't fux with the trolls. Do not engage. Sometimes that means radio silence. I'm breaking that silence because I want you to know 2020 has not destroyed DtD. It's only leveled shit up.

I have pretty much been working on this story consistently since March of this year. I go back and forth with reading, history, documentaries. I'm learning to wield many new weapons. They take time to settle in. DtD is the de-stressor I go to in between the real shit.

Sometime in June I was screwing around with the order of the parts. I had worked out the end but I was trying to bridge the gap between the ending I was certain I needed to get to and the two beginning stories I'd already published. I couldn't bridge the gap. It had been a year since I published Read Between and it wasn't working. Then I had an epiphany.

What if I got rid of Mistrust? Read Between is a pretty blank slate. I didn't want to re-write it and I still don't. I have no intention of getting rid of Part 1. I may clean it up and add some stuff at the very last minute, but it will be right before the new stuff drops as a pre-cursor to the flood of subsequent stories. I may add a few new clues or alter a scene or two, but I have plenty of room to move with it exactly the way it is.

What does that mean for Mistrust Goes Both Ways? To make a long story short, there was no good way for me to continue with what I'd published and still write the story in my head. I'm sure there are cool places to take the existing story, but that's not what I'm trying to do. In truth, I should have left 1 and not published 2 when I hit a snag. Lesson learned.

In June I basically threw Mistrust out and asked myself, "Now what?" I have months of great ideas rife for reshuffling and no restrictions on how to bridge the gap from 1 to the ending I wanted. But the end had shifted.

That brings us up to speed. The last thing I did before taking a much needed break was get through 90% of the history in my accordion outline/draft. I poured the foundation that was missing. I walked away in early October and let it set. I'm going to button up this other fic I'm working on and then go back to DtD and check the foundation I laid.

I'm very confident that not only will it hold, but that with fresh eyes and the fun side stories I've had the chance to lay to rest, I will finally be able to start building the finished products on top of it.

IN CONCLUSION

I'm still as excited as I've ever been for this story. It frustrates me all the time, but that means the medicine for my soul is working its magic. Change it painful, but pain is transformative. I've embrace changed. That ache is just a sign the muscles are getting stronger. Growing pains. As I learn to live with them in my family, my country, and my job, I find that life's lesson's often end up reflecting in every place in our life if we but open our eyes to look.

Growing pains exist in my writing process too. They are as transformative in this corner of my life as they are in every other. They have revealed as much about me as a person in my writing as they have in my politics. They have taught me how to compromise with my family as I learn to compromise with my characters. As I consider how people treat each other I am reminded that struggles in understanding our fictional counterparts may shine a light on our struggles to understand our truer selves.

Take care of yourselves. Once you've got that covered, if you can, take care of each other. Feel free to poke me and say hi. If not, until next month.

Fari.

[inherhouseshewaitsdreaming]

NaNo Prep Week #4 - Build a Strong World

NaNo Prep is a series of blog posts covering the NaNo Prep 101 curriculum which is a good outline of the things you want to do to get ready for NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month.

In week 4 we are looking at worldbuilding. For some this might conjure up the construction of fantastic worlds but the truth is you need worldbuilding in almost every book. Even if you are basing your story in reality, you need to think about what aspects of the world you are going to draw on and how they would affect your character. Their backstory is filled with experiences that made them who they are and those are important to consider. That being said, the closer you are to reality, the less worldbuilding you need to do.

Resources

Brandon Sanderson has a trio of lectures on this as well - Part 1, Part 2 and the Q&A. The first lecture covering “Sanderson’s Laws��� is really useful because those rules also apply to plot and character and are useful to think about. If you have time, watch the rest, but the the key points I took away were:

Worldbuilding should always be in service of the plot.

Worldbuilding should be as minimal as you can get away with both in terms of time you spend (your time is better spent writing) and information you put in your book (readers need less than you think).

Jenna Moreci’s video, Common Worldbuilding Mistakes and 10 Tips for Strong Worldbuilding from Shaelin via Reedsy were good summary videos if you want something shorter.

I enjoyed the video 4 Amazing Stories with Soft Worldbuilding [Lovecraft | Hollow Knight | Nier | Dark Souls] from Hello Future Me (Timothy Hickson) and his idea of ‘soft’ worldbuilding. I think because I particularly like these kinds of stories. I have read or played or watched being played all of the examples discussed. NieR: Automata in particular I found very impactful. The story, the music and the world combined to create something very beautiful and very sad that stood out for me above many other games.

How I used them

My current story is based on (not in) reality. For that reason I can skip quite a bit of the world building process and focus on the following:

Where is my story taking place?

What aspects of the world have impacted my characters?

How does my world differ from reality?

For the first one, I had a bit of back and forth. I had two settings in mind that I felt I could write in - the USA and the UK. Given the amount of time available to me, I didn’t want to pick a location I had no real experience of. Each country offered me something different. In the UK, I could focus on the ancient nature of the factions in my story and how they were integrated into the structure of power and class. After reading up on cults, I felt there were some particular themes I could explore in the USA - particularly around the ideas of individuality, freedom, the American Dream and American Exceptionalism, all strong themes in American history and political ideologies. In the end the latter felt a better fit.

Given I had already considered how the world impacted on my characters as a part of the character development, I then focused on how my world differed from reality and it does so in two key ways:

The magic system

The presence of two warring factions as part of a secret history

I did a quick piece on the second focusing on where they are now. The longer history isn’t really part of this story. I then spent some time thinking about the first difference. My magic system is based on dreams and the altering of perceptions of reality. I’d like to do some further research, if I have time, on beliefs around dreams from across the world, but for the purpose of expediency I focused on what I needed it to be for my story. How would my protagonist experience it and how would my antagonist use it. This helped me flesh out my antagonist a great deal. It also helped me come up with some key scenes as my protagonist experiences the magic system for the first time.

[leggyre]

bun isnt showing up on my dash, smh tumblr, I can see the post on your blog but its not showing up in my feed (also I was talking about ur oc nano... their old and new stuff :0)

[cough] delayed one day because i started feeling sleepy LOL

uuuh honestly nano-cen hasn’t changed much since the last time ive looked at him mostly because i ditched him for yu and he deserves it 

I don’t really remember how much I shared last time I was asked about him though so *checking papers* lemme see

uuuh i guess it takes me longer to explain nano usually because he’s very attached to the concept of the world he’s in. Sure I can just say “there is this bunny and he is a medium and his family is all about that spirituality stuff” but it’s not the same if i don’t add “and that’s pretty normal for most part because in the world he comes from the gap between the living and the dead is very small and they are actually able to contact each other so talking to deceased ancestors is a pretty normal thing though it still requires training and not everyone is able to do it but in the end their whole culture is based on the connection they have with the ‘other side’” *takes deep breah* because then it’s hard to explain why the modernization of society is killing that culture in a way that makes his family be despised by the youngest generations

...Still with me? Well, okay.

Basically people handling the culture badly in order to make a profit is a thing that happens in a massive scale, even to the point where places considered “official” sanctuaries have been caught on the lie. There’s a lot of factors that come into play but I’m gonna spare you from the details of the downfall of bunny culture.

Nano’s family, though, they’re the real deal. And they’ve been for generations. The problem is, no matter how legit you are -- if there’s a scandal nearby, you’re doomed to be a victim of it.

And now, if I’m gonna be honest, the real protagonist when I’m talking about Nano is actually his mother. He is really just the product of her hard work and I think I should finally start saying that LMAO Aeruii, she’s a troubled woman. She’s gotta deal with a broken marriage, a very fragile child, and people who are unreasonably angry at her every now and then. And a lot of other stuff, but the big thing is: she is always busy or tired, and never really has the time for the only joy in her world, her son. She’s never there, not even when the his chronic illness eventually kills him. And that’s what changed everything. Her world stopped moving the way it used to. After years stubbornly clinging to her heritage -- to everything she grew up with  -- she finally gives it all up. She leaves. Changes her name. Finds a new home. Starts a new life.

But ultimately, Aeruii breaks down at the thought that the one who deserved a second chance wasn’t her.

SO HERE’S WHERE NANO 2: THE UPRISING STARTS

uuuh i dont like to get into details because its extremely cliche satanic ritual kinda stuff but yeah she does that bc she wants to give nano everything she never could and sure it requires some hard work and sacrifices lmaaaooo

so heres the deets nano before all of this: -good boy -best friends with yu and thats all he needs -shy -likes doodling some flowers he sees -he doodles them anywhere and sometimes its not even a flower its something that looks like a flower -”check out this weird flower!” ”nano that is a cabbage” -very good at the “talking with ghosts” thing except for the part where he’s supposed to learn a whole ass language to properly do it

nano after all of this: -BITCH -doesn’t talk to anyone unless addressed first but its not bc hes shy he just doesnt CARE -ok its not really like that hes just ‘meh’ most of the time but Aeruii never really noticed the difference between his shy personality and his dead boring personality because of sad reasons -hes a little bit like a zombie? until you talk to him. hes kinda always zoning out not thinking of anything but can act like a normal person when necessary -obsessive about one person, though, will do anything for them only(and its not his mother!). says its love but its a zombie instinct kinda -saw yu once, might have attempted murder. i swear it was a very circumstantial situation and not any deep hatred

and basically that was all just aeruii’s story but nano’s story goes like this -some kids like him enough to keep him around -he gets a bit obsessive over one of them -wants to be the only one in that person’s life -mild yandere shit -they find out about him being a creepy bastard & kick him outta the group -he freaks the fuck out -violent yandere shit -the original version of this story included some deaths but worry not present be is rated E for Everyone

i wanted this to be a brief summary but that can never be true when its about nano-cen. so many fucking factors. why the hell are these bunnies so complicated

anyway, *clears throat*

ⁿᵃⁿᵒ ᶜʳᵉᶻᶦᵒ⁻ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳᵒ ᵛᵃᵐⁿᵈᵉ ⁿᵉʳᵒʰᶦ.

ᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ

[raendown]

With NaNo going on I am utterly terrible about remembering to post updates! 

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 5367 Chapter: 5/9 Rated: T+ Summary: When his brother disappears coming home from town Madara goes looking for him only for both to end up taken prisoner in a castle hidden by magic generations ago. The candelabras talk, the furniture sleeps, and a great white beast hides himself away in the eastern wing. As he uncovers the story behind this place and gets to know the last small group of ‘survivors’ Madara gradually makes a new home here in the least likely of places.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 5

“You did not!”

“It was a common pastime when I was young, is it not so anymore? In fact I believe I was the only child in my age group who did not enjoy rolling a hoop with a stick. However, that was mostly due to the fact that I much preferred to sequester myself in the library reading books far above my expected level.” Tobirama’s chest puffed out ever so slightly with pride and Madara laughed again.

“So all the other kids were boring losers playing with sticks and a hoop but you were a nerd. Awesome.” Anticipating the frown of disapproval, Madara hustled a few steps ahead and pretended to inspect an admittedly beautiful vase on a random table, hiding his laughter in admiration for the intricate designs.

Once they finally got past the awkwardness of actually speaking after ignoring each other for several weeks Madara was pleasantly surprised to find an amusing companion in Tobirama. Their first true bonding exercise was avoiding Hashirama together and working as a team to distract and evade, neither wanting to stay and listen to the idiot sobbing melted wax for hours at a time. It took a while to convince Izuna he wasn’t crazy for making friends with the one that trapped them here but after a few days Madara could safely say that he did not regret their burgeoning new friendship. Tobirama was interesting.

“Forgive me if this offends but I am unaware of the current educational standards. Do you or your brother know how to read?”

“We can, yeah. Izuna would rather do other things, although a lot of the time he doesn’t have much choice. There’s not much else to do when you’re lying in bed all day except maybe knit. I like to read though. I was one of the library’s only patrons in our village.” Now it was his turn to fluff up like a peacock. A lot of the villagers never bothered with any education besides caring for their land. Some had no one to teach them, some had no interest. Madara considered himself and his brother lucky that their parents had deigned to pass on a little education to their children. The story had been that the skill was passed down through their family because they were descended from noble stock, something he’d never believed until Kagami oh so casually revealed that it was actually true.

“Shall we visit the library?” Tobirama asked.

“You have a library? Hashirama took me on so many tours around this mountain of a place and not once did I see a library!”

The other shook his head. “My brother was ever bored by reading. His pursuits were more of the physical realm. We were a well-balanced pair in our day, he and I.” His voice took on a melancholy tinge as he trailed off and Madara hopped on the chance to distract. Today was not a day he wanted either of them to start moping.

“Right then, show the way!”

His mock-cheer seemed to draw Tobirama out of whatever cloud he’d been about to shroud himself in and the atmosphere between them remained fairly mellow, the path of their aimless wandering turned aside with purpose to head for the southern wing. When he first explored the castle with Hashirama Madara remembered thinking the southern wing was oddly smaller than the others but now he realized it wasn’t. They had just spent less time exploring those parts because Hashirama didn’t care for them, the sneaky idiot.

Getting anywhere took forever here since the entire building was roughly the size of a village center at its base and several stories tall so the two of them made idle conversation about what games they both played as children to see if there was any commonalities between the changing generations. As it turned out there were a few things they could both recall doing and, ironically enough, they were all the games they’d had to be forced to play along with like hopscotch and spinning tops.

“Ah, here we are,” Tobirama interrupted himself in the middle of a sentence to indicate a set of massive wooden doors that had once been painted a very soft green, though the paint had faded and peeled with no one taking the time to rejuvenate it over the years. They were also several times taller than either of them.

“How in the hell are we supposed to get in there?” Madara demanded. “Either one of those doors probably weighs more than I can move without some kind of pulley system!”

“Yes, very likely, but that is why this is here.”

With that Tobirama reached over and took hold of a secondary handle in the left door that had been cleverly hidden by the old paint job, even move indistinguishable with so much peeling paint drawing the eye everywhere else. As casually as if he opened secret portals all the time Tobirama pulled open a smaller door out of the massive one and turned back to Madara with a smirk that said he knew very well he’d just blown the human’s mind.

Madara had every intention of snapping back with some kind of sassy retort but the moment he stepped through the door his mind was empty of almost everything but awe. He thought back to the library in his village, how he’d always been so proud of himself for reading almost half of the books, and could not help the hysterical bubble of laughter that escaped for believing himself well-read. Every book he’d ever consumed in his life would not have filled a single shelf. The room itself was massive, the number of shelves lining each wall mind-boggling, and the number of trees it would have taken to fill so many books would probably have outnumbered the very forest this castle was surrounded by. For a wild moment he felt somehow unqualified to be in here.

“That is…a lot of books.”

“And that is a respectable understatement.”

“Shut up! This is amazing!” Madara stood close to the entrance for another minute just to admire the sight of so much human knowledge all in one place.

Then he turned and sprinted for the closest spine he could get his hands on, tracing the high quality leather and greedily admiring the gold embossed lettering decorating several of them in a row. Dust coated everything in thick layers but underneath the books were thick and sturdy looking with no signs of deterioration or damp. Just the thought of how much knowledge might be contained within this one room was enough to stagger him, almost enough to make him salivate, so without making himself wait any longer he reached up to pull the closest book out and admire the front.

“An interesting choice to start with,” Tobirama noted, stepping up behind him.

“Why, what is it?”

“That is a genealogy register; this particular section is a record of my family history going back more generations that I’m sure anyone has cared about for at least half of those generations. What you have there is a volume dating somewhat near to one hundred years before my birth.”

Madara lifted one eyebrow and looked down at the book in his hands with disappointment. “Oh. Boring. I’ll look at something else then. Where does the family photo album section end?”

He followed Tobirama’s clawed finger to where it pointed at the far wall and had to shake his head first because that was way too many books just to keep track of how many people had been part of one family. Then he hurried across the dusty maw of the open floor to snatch the first book that drew his eye. Once upon a time the leather had been dyed a gorgeous emerald green. From the condition of the page edges it looked as though this tome had been ancient even before it was stopped in time, practically ready to crumble between his fingers. As carefully as possible and with gentle movements Madara opened the book to a random page.

Then frowned.

“What the hell language is this?” he asked.

“The same language we are speaking now,” Tobirama replied with slight confusion. “Perhaps a bit more formal but it is the same language. Is there a problem?”

“No way is this the same, I’ve never even heard some of these words before. Thouest? Hitherto fore? Seemest thine? What kind of witchcraft spell book did I just pick up?” Turning the book side to side and flipping it around did nothing to make the sentences any clearer.

“I assure you that the recipes therein are not witchcraft.”

Madara looked up at his companion with a frown and then back down at the book, squinting. “These are recipes? I honestly cannot follow a single sentence. Why are all the letters so stupidly curly?”

“That is the way of scribes, I suppose.” Tobirama offered a disinterested shrug.

Disappointed again, Madara snapped the book shut and very carefully slid it back in to place. He stepped back and craned his neck to look way up to where a balcony had been built around the perimeter of the room, breaking up the wall close to where the second story would begin. So many books and they were all so stupidly fancy he couldn’t read any of them? That hurt.

“Are there any books that have anything interesting to say?” he grumbled.

“Plenty of them, yes.”

“Hmph. Suppose it doesn’t matter anyway if I can’t bloody decipher them. I shouldn’t have to learn half another language just to read a few books!”

Tobirama, the bastard, was laughing at him. He could tell. No smile appeared but there was a certain tilt to his head that Madara was used to seeing on the villagers that always thought themselves better than him, though oddly enough Tobirama didn’t strike him as quite that stuck up despite his royal upbringing. Either he was naturally blessed with a little humility or the years alone had smothered his pride. Whatever the case he was still laughing.

Just to be clear on how little he appreciated that Madara made sure to shove his nose so far in the air he almost couldn’t see where he was going as he stormed away from the library he’d thought he might be able to lose himself in. He had no illusions about his own skill, he would never pretend to call himself a scholar or a true intellectual of any kind, but he did enjoy the hours he was able to sink in to stories of the past and just thinking of how much rich history there must be here burned him. To be so close to so many treasures and unable to appreciate them, it was torture.

“If words have failed you then would perhaps you would like to see the armory instead?”

“What?” Madara's head jerked down and he stopped in his tracks. “You have an armory? More stuff Hashirama did not mention!”

“It’s a bit of a walk but yes but considering the location I am not surprised my brother was unable to show you this as well. Allow me to escort you.”

This time Madara hustled to match Tobirama’s long strides a little better, twice as excited. “My favorite books to read were always the history books on war. There was the one about a battle that took place only a few miles from our village; when I first read it I was still pretty young and I ditched chores for the day to hike out and play soldier in the field I thought the book was talking about.”

“Pray tell me you wore a pot for a helmet?” Tobirama teased.

After sticking out his tongue Madara had to sheepishly admit, “I may have brought along an apple basket to wear. And a broomstick to use as a sword because I knew a stick from the forest would break if I hit anything with it.”

“How precious. When I was learning swordsmanship my father had crafted for me a wooden sword but I insisted upon carrying a genuine shield.” His heavy nose wrinkled ever so slightly. “It was much too large for my small frame and I needed both hands just to lift it.”

“Now that is precious. Wait, are you any good with a sword?”

“Of course. All members of the royal line were taught to defend themselves in times of emergency. I daresay I was quite skilled, though I never quite reached my brothers’ level of proficiency.” As he spoke his eyes grew distant and Madara huffed. Distant was not what he wanted. Half the point of getting to know Tobirama was helping him get his mood out of the dark clouds he had all but permanently stapled to his own head.

“I’ve always wanted to learn,” Madara admitted. “Maybe you could teach me?”

Looking down at him, a little of the darkness lifted in favor of curiosity. “Teach you?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not like we’ve got anything better to do with our time, you know?”

Tobirama didn’t answer but he did look thoughtful and that was a hell of a lot better than letting him stew in whatever black hole he’d been about to spiral down. Learning to cross blades with someone a few good feet taller with roughly three times as much muscle was actually a little worrisome to consider when Madara thought about it further, wondering if he’d just signed his own death warrant.

Since it was too late to take the words back now he kept his silence and both of them disappeared in to their own thoughts as they made the trek back over to the far side of the castle where the stables were kept. It made sense, he supposed, to keep the armory and the mounts so close together. He just wished he’d known it was there earlier. All this time he could have been escaping Hashirama's endless babble to go relive his childhood playing soldier with real helmets and a sword that wouldn’t break no matter how many times he tripped over his own feet and smacked it in to a nearby tree.

What he was picturing in his mind was a small room with swords in neat rows and shields hung on the walls, perhaps a small selection of polearms to train with. Surely most knights must have owned their own personal weaponry and kept such things in their quarters. The outside of the building Tobirama led him to was rather unassuming looking, constructed with the same dim brick as the rest of the castle, completely devoid of any artistry or embellishment. Even the door was simple plain wood. When it was pushed open the inside was nothing but shadows and Madara stood blinking in to the darkness as his companion trundled inwards to find candles to light. When he found none Madara could hear him grumbling irritably, stomping over to throw open a window instead, midday light spilling inside to reveal the treasures within.

And what treasures indeed. The swords he had imagined were bigger and more impressive than he could have dreamed. Rather than hanging along the walls they were displayed on wooden racks, some of which also held pikes and halberds and naginata, but above them there were katana with intricate hilts he could hardly believe. Rows upon rows of daggers and poniards, a full display of tessen fans both parchment and metal, and on the opposite wall hung shields of every size and shape. At the end of the room there stood an open archway that he could only assume led to another room with just as many discoveries waiting for him to gush over like an excited child.

Flustered by so many incredible findings and unable to decide what he wanted to explore first, Madara could only spin in a circle letting his eyes roam over the dull blades and imagining how much more unbelievably impressive this collection would have been when there had existed a full staff of servants to care for each item properly.

He had very nearly spun all the way around in a full circle when he spotted a massive curved sickle not unlike the ones his fellow villagers used to sow wheat in the fields. This one topped a much shorter handle to be wielded single-handedly and was attached by a thick chain to an identical blade. With glee spreading across his face in an excited grin he made to step over to the sickles and heft them, to feel their weight, when he spotted it at last. The perfect grail.

“Is that a gunbai?” he breathed, approaching the weapon with reverence in his steps. Tobirama watched from where he remained by the window.

“A rather unorthodox one. If memory serves my grandfather commissioned that for ceremonial use. The man who crafted it sought my grandfather’s favor and so in place of a simple ceremonial piece of artistry he gifted to our family a battle-worthy gunbai as tall as himself.”

“It’s incredible!”

Taller than Madara himself, the massive war fan was constructed of steel and wood, painted with a repeating pattern around the edges to distract from the way they had been deliberately sharpened to a deadly point. When he very carefully wrapped his fingers around the handle and lifted the weapon it was so much heavier than he anticipated that he very nearly went crashing sideways trying to balance himself again.

“Do you know how to wield it?” Tobirama asked.

“Not a clue,” Madara admitted. “But I’ve read about them and I’ve always wanted to see one for myself.”

“Would you like to learn?”

Several nearby weapons rattled ominously as Madara spun around in shock and crashed the edge of the gunbai against a rack of throwing stars. “Are you serious!?”

“I fail to see why not when I had already planned to teach you the art of the sword. What harm is there in choosing a different weapon to better suit your tastes?” Tobirama shrugged in that haughty way of his as though he were offering nothing more momentous than afternoon tea.

“Then yeah! Yes! Oh man, Izuna is going to be so jealous!”

Hefting it again, Madara turned for the door and scurried out of the armory before Tobirama had a chance to call him back. Both halves of the buildings made a right angle that, together with the stables, created a box shape with one open side. When he made his way around he found himself in what must have once been a sparring ring or a practice field. Several wooden targets stood along one side of the square and a collection of straw dummies strapped to wooden poles lined another. Madara headed straight for the dummies and hefted his new weapon.

Only to realize that this would perhaps be a little more difficult to pick up than he had imagined with his swords made of broomsticks. The gunbai was heavy. Madara had never been a farmer for all that he lived in a small farming village, he’d never had quite the muscles that others built up after years of pulling plows and carrying massive bales of hay.

Tobirama came around the corner with an indulgent expression already hovering around the smile twitching his lips and Madara scowled at him before he even had a chance to open his mouth.

“As I was about to say before you dashed off oh so eagerly, it would perhaps be better to learn a set of strengthening exercises first before you injure yourself with such a large weapon that you are so unfamiliar with.” The bastard even had the gall to lift one eyebrow mockingly.

“Uggghhh that sounds like it’s going to be so much more effort than just learning how to swing this right.”

“Indeed. Much more work.”

“What use is magic if you can’t use it for cool stuff? I mean, screw immortality and shape-shifting. Why can’t some witch just pop over for tea and make me in to a battle master in one afternoon?” Madara slumped and stared mournfully down at the gunbai in his hands, picturing how cool he would look if he were able to dance across the field cutting down opponents with one hand. He would probably look even more impressive if he could use something like that sickle in his other hand.

Tobirama snorted and brought him back out of his daydreams. “Are all the youths of your generation so lazy?”

“Oh, youth am I? I’ll bet I’m older than you! Just because you’ve lived longer that doesn’t make you older!” Madara paused and frowned as he thought that through again. When he noticed the judgment in his companion’s face he scowled. “Shut up! I know what I meant!”

“Regardless, the question remains: would you care to learn a few strengthening exercises or not?”

Not wanting to embarrass himself any farther, Madara very reluctantly toted the gunbai back in to the armory where he placed it very carefully back where it came from. Then he followed Tobirama back out in to the training ring and listened with rapture to the new exercise regimen they would apparently be taking up daily from now on. Since most of his physical labor back home had involved mucking out stalls and carrying buckets of oats he’d never given much thought to how very average his muscle mass was and, honestly, he’d never had much motivation to do anything about it. It wasn’t as though he’d ever had anyone to impress.

Getting a bit of exercise every day was better than just sitting around in the kitchen watching Hashirama try to come up with ways to hug his wife without setting her on fire, though, and it wasn’t like he ever had any pressing duties to attend to. So long as he made sure Izuna was fed and had taken his medicine the rest of his days were generally filled with quite a lot of loafing about. If this new regimen happened to come with the added benefit of Tobirama’s face lighting up with true interest as he nattered on about lesson plans he was apparently already composing in his head then that could only be considered an additional bonus.

By the time they returned to the castle Madara was covered in sweat from head to toe and yet he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in such high spirits. As he trained Tobirama had regaled him with stories of the few minor battles he’d been involved in during his youth when they’d been at war with one of the neighboring kingdoms and small forces had stupidly attempted an assault on the royal palace itself. Madara had been just as thrilled to discover they had something in common as he had been to listen to the story itself. If he couldn’t read the history books in the library then listening to a live retelling was just as good – better even. Listening to Tobirama meant he could interrupt with a dozen questions if he could catch his breath enough to ask them and enjoy all the small details historians never bothered to record.

“They did not!”

“I tell no lies. They watched us set up a vat of boiling oil in plain sight, set their ladders straight underneath it, and attempted to climb them as though somehow expecting us not to use whatever means necessary to repel them from our walls. I have never in my life heard a more startled scream.” Tobirama chuckled with sadistic amusement and Madara admired the glint of his misshapen grin.

“Maybe people really were just stupider in your time,” he teased. “I think Hashirama could be used as evidence for that.”

From around the corner a tinny voice could be heard shouting, “There’s no need to be cruel!”

Tobirama was already smiling but at the sight of his metal-bound sibling hopping around the corner with despair etched in to the shape of his face he began to laugh unrepentantly and Madara realized they had a second thing in common. They both enjoyed teasing Hashirama and watching the dramatics unfold. Nothing made for better entertainment than winding Hashirama up and then abandoning him to sob all over his wife, although that usually ended with having to deal with her death glare and leaving himself to the mercy of her cooking when mealtime came around again.

After letting his friend cry himself out over how mean they were being Madara made it up to him by letting Hashirama hop in to his hands and carrying him with them as they travelled the halls.

“Mito and I were concerned when you failed to arrive for dinner; I was coming to see where you might have gotten off to. Why is all of your clothing so damp?”

“We were training!” Madara told him excitedly.

“How exciting! Ah, what were you training?” Hashirama listened with rapt attention while Madara extolled upon the beauties of all the incredible finds revealed to him inside the armory and moaned wistfully when told about Tobirama’s promise to teach him the art of battle. “Oh to hold a blade in my hand again, to hear the singing of steel and the rush of battle.”

Tobirama snorted above them. “Do not pretend you are not a pacifist for all that I never managed to best you on the field.”

“Sparring was ever different from true battle. I would give anything to feel the ache in my limbs after hours of training or the drip of sweat upon my brow. As the years turn I find that I…I quite forget what it was to feel the burn of the sun in my eyes or the kiss of the wind.” Hashirama drooped momentarily and Madara stared at the candelabra in his hands.

It wasn’t often his friend opened up in such a way about how much he missed being human. Beyond the daily mourning of his inability to hold Mito close he generally avoided the subject and even then his yearnings were so overdone Madara realized he had started to treat them as jokes. A quick glance up told him that Tobirama was just as floored by the open admittance, though surprise quickly turned to heavy guilt and he looked away. When Madara looked back down he noted Hashirama following his line of sight only for his own face to crumple with remorse.

“Forgive me little brother, I did not mean to be so maudlin.”

“You should not censor your speech for my sake,” Tobirama forced out. “If you will excuse me, I do believe the mood will improve if I am not present.”

Before either of them could say a word to convince him otherwise he had already turned to storm off in the opposite direction with his long loping stride, too fast for Madara to catch up with unless he broke in to a run. They watched him go until he turned a corner in the hallway and then Madara looked down to the friend he carried between his hands.

“And I had just gotten him in to a better mood,” he sighed, much to Hashirama's obvious chagrin.

“Oh my. I may have, as you say, messed up.”

“Just a little. He’ll forgive you though.”

“But will he forgive himself?”

Madara twisted his mouth to one side and looked back in the direction where Tobirama had disappeared. That was a good question. After spending a day together finally he felt much closer to the other, could see how they might actually become great friends, and with every interaction he found himself more and more determined to help Hashirama with the quest to remind Tobirama of his own humanity. That the actions he believed had made him a monster were truly the only choice he’d had, something anyone in his position would have had to do. They may have lost many lives in the plague but from the story he’d been told Madara would bet that Tobirama’s quick and decisive actions had saved many more.

And he would be willing to bet that the idiot hadn’t let anyone say that to him in a long time.

“Where’s Kagami?” he asked. Hashirama perked up.

“I do believe he was heading to royal apartments when I left the study. What excellent timing! My brother has ever found solace in his young student. As much as I have never doubted his love for me I understand why it is often difficult for him to face me. There is simply too much guilt in him.”

“And in you,” Madara pointed out.

His friend nodded sadly. “We make for quite a morose pair.”

“Well, while Kagami distracts his royal grumpiness I don’t suppose I can convince you to tell me the story of how this all happened again? I want to get the details straight. I think it’s about time someone yelled in his face that he’s being stupid.”

Hashirama gaped at him.

“You would not possibly be so insensitive!”

“Oh yes I would,” Madara grunted. “He’s being mopey and dumb and that’s the whole reason this mess started. I get it, he feels really shitty about what happened. But if it were anyone else they would have gotten over themselves by now. He needs a wakeup call and I am just the rude asshole to do it.”

He continued to stump along the halls on his way to the kitchen where he knew Mito would be hard at work in the middle of her dinner preparations. For a woman without hands or limbs she was able to whip up some rather incredible creations. He should really start saying thank you more often. It took several hallways of walking in silence for Hashirama to shift in his hands, crossing both arms with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“I cannot say I agree with your methods but what passes between the two of you in conversation is simply not my business,” he concluded. “You have requested the tale and I will tell you. What you do with that information is out of my control.” Madara offered him a grin.

“That’s the spirit.”

“Perhaps this could wait until after dinner, however? I would not wish to upset my wife.”

“Whatever you want, big guy. Were you big? I saw a portrait of you and your brothers but I never asked which one was you and it’s hard to judge height from a portrait.”

Finally a shadow of cheer returned to Hashirama's engraved countenance as he replied with a sly undertone, “Taller than you, my friend. If you have more questions along that nature I would be more than happy to extoll upon my own beauty as you sate your hunger!”

“Ugh, don’t make it sound so gross!”

The two of them bickered good-naturedly all the way in to the kitchen where Mito was putting the finishing touches on a gorgeous spread of some western dish known as shepherd’s pie. Madara was more than happy to let the good mood rest for a little longer before the conversation returned to somber topics, allowing himself to be pulled in to some lighter reminiscing about the good old days. Yet even as Hashirama spent ten minutes alone trying to find the perfect comparison for the exact red shade that Mito’s hair had been he found his thoughts drifting away to another part of the castle.

Somewhere in the bowels of this oversized stone bucket Tobirama was beating himself up for something that happened countless years before and hadn’t even been his fault, wrapping himself in misery while the rest of them allowed themselves a moment of jocularity. If he were honest with himself Madara understood that a large part of his motivation for helping Tobirama was the selfish desire for his life to go back to the way it had been, for the ability to leave this castle and return to the life he’d been stolen away from. And yet the more time he spent here the more he had begun to wonder with each new day.

Was leaving truly what he still desired?

[haloud]

Fanfic Writer Asks

tagged by @chasingshhadows and @alexanderlightweight ^-^

Author Name:

haloud on ao3, but anyone who wants to can just call me hal :)

Fandoms You Write For:

Roswell, New Mexico right now! But in the past I’ve written for some anime (that i’ve all but completely lost interest in) and some video games (that I still love but don’t have much drive to fic for rn)

Where You Post:

Ao3 and Tumblr. I’m really bad at crossposting. I don’t crosspost E-rated fic to Tumblr (anymore) because I worry that properly tagging it could incur the wrath of the nsfw ban (even though it shouldnt but when has tumblr ever worked properly). Anything shorter than 1k doesn’t usually get posted to Ao3.

Most Popular Oneshot:

Keeping it to RNM, that would either be tuck my hair behind my ears and touch my soul, the first mylex fic I wrote, or getting all bothered and hot for something not in a series.

Most Popular Multi Chapter Story:

The 5+1 dancing fic, take a chance and don’t ever look back. With my only other multi chapter fic being a WIP and an AU, it’s not surprising!

Favorite Story You Wrote:

It’s honestly reeeeeally hard for me to pick a favorite. I think I’d have to say that I enjoy my own writing the most when I’m leaning into poetic prose, so my favorite fics would be a sky full of lights and none of them stars and peregrine, cormorant, starling

I also really love the mythology au heather, hawthorn, and steel, and I hope to continue it sometime but probably won’t commit to it until after Victorian AU is done.

My favorite non-RNM writing would probably be the things I wrote for Octopath Traveler, especially the olberic/erhardt one-shot the light of our armistice day

Story You Were Nervous to Post:

Honestly, I...don’t get nervous to post stories. I get anxious about whether or not they’ll get ignored...I worry that I’m annoying people by advertising my writing on my own blog or by posting too many stories too often...but I don’t think I’ve ever written anything where I was nervous that the reaction would be negative.

I still get a little self-conscious writing smut, though, haha. Though sorting my own stuff by kudos to find the most popular did show me that smut does numbers lololololol

How Do You Pick Your Titles:

I usually have a song lyric in mind for the title by the time the fic is done. Sometimes a non-lyric title comes to me by divine providence, and that’s always fun haha. Sometimes I have a particular model for a title and I find something that fits it--like with the original Victorian AU, i knew I wanted to model it off of titles of actual Victorian smut pamphlets, which is why it’s so long, haha. So that didn’t get a title until it was done, because it’s almost a summary in itself.

Yeah, titles don’t bother me. It’s summaries that kick my ass.

Do You Outline:

I do for longer stories--which I don’t write often, so it’s an underdeveloped skill. And I’m terrible at sticking to them. But even if, like me, you have a pretty freeform approach to writing, it’s always good to have benchmarks and an end goal in mind when you go into a story.

How Many of Your Stories are Complete:

Oh gosh, almost all of them. as the marigold to the sun’s eye is my only currently-publishing WIP.

In-Progress:

Also a lot!

Mylex (open up my eager eyes) is always in progress

marigold chapter 4

A new series about the childhoods of the main cast and the adults in their lives

that malex and echo epic fic I pitched a while back will hopefully be given life for NaNo this year!!!!!

a Michael and Rosa conversation piece that i’ve been working on for months .-.

an Alex character study in a similar vein to a sky full of lights that i’ve also been kicking around for a while

Im probably forgetting some stuff tbh haha

Coming Soon:

The first in the childhood series should be the next thing I post.

Do You Accept Prompts:

I do, but I reserve the right to veto if I feel like I’ve got too much on my plate.

Upcoming Story You’re the Most Excited For:

Very excited and nervous to start NaNo.

Tag Five Fanfic Authors to Answer These Questions

I don’t like tagging people, but I have so many great writers following me that should consider this as me tagging them if they want to do this!!