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lsbaird · 3 years

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The Devil’s Luck - Chapter Three Preview!

I’m a day late, it’s true, but hopefully you’ll forgive me. Today Etienne rallies to give it the old college try one more time, but he’s beginning to realize his target may not be quite so murderable as he appears...

It was the D'Grassa, in fact, that proved to be the next opportunity for dispatching Frey. In the morning Etienne dined alone, again, as Frey was tied up over his breakfast meetings, where he held court with his tenants and resolved grievances between them. There was a sticky situation involving a sheepdog and some geese, Frey had told him, and it would be quite boring for Elsa. Etienne heartily agreed. Not to mention, of course, that Elsa's presence at Chancelion was supposed to be something of a secret for a week, unofficial until her aunt had time to accept her niece's elopement, and the engagement was fixed. Or, in terms of the Order, when Frey was dead and the Lady Elsa vanished into thin air.

So Etienne made his way though another round of oatmeal and bland tea, and then retreated back to the library. Maybe he couldn't steal the D'Grassa yet, but at the very least he could read the damn thing.

But once he had settled in the window seat, Etienne opened the tome to its first illuminated page and stared at it without comprehension. His mind was not on the Binding of the Archdemon, centuries past. It was on the prevention of that same Archdemon's return. His easiest opportunity to do his sworn duty had ended in failure, but there were numerous other methods to be tried. After all, it was only the second full day of his stay.

He had no idea how long he was there, lost in thought, staring out the window. The rain had let up, but it had stripped all the autumn glory from the trees, and Chancelion's forests were skeletal frames with flecks of red and peach clinging to them. The timber hills, whose evergreen wombs birthed the hulls of Verlia's merchant vessels, were a dark-green smudge in the distance under a brilliant sky. In the stone courtyard below, past the lacy ironwork points under the windows, tatty leaves chased each other back and forth like schoolchildren let off their studies, whirling into circles and then breaking apart. The sudden sound of Frey’s voice scattered Etienne’s thoughts in a much less poetic fashion.

"I would have said my library lacked for nothing, but I see now what it most needed is here at last."

Etienne started. Frey was standing in the doorway, his eyes only for his betrothed, love lending him an added appeal that his already fine figure did not need.

"Frey!" Etienne said, even as he scolded himself for letting someone—a target, even!— sneak up on him. He hurried to rescue the book that was falling out of his lap before its fragile binding could crash to the parquet floor. "I didn't even hear you come in."

"I could not bear to disturb you, in whatever thoughts you were having." Frey smiled. "Dare I hope that I was in some small part of them?"

Etienne liked nothing better than when Elsa could be honest and full of lies all at the same time. It was so gratifying. "Why, yes, I do confess that you did feature rather prominently," he said, and neglected to elaborate. It wouldn't do to tell Frey that those lush, private fantasies had all involved Frey's murder. "Did you think I would be thinking about the lawns, or the sparrows on the roof?"

"The mystery was so much of the appeal," Frey sighed, happily. "I should have you painted just like that, tilted away from the frame, so I could always watch you daydreaming."

Etienne put the book to his mouth to hide his expression. He breathed deep the reassuring smells of old leather and parchment and felt calmer at once. "Really, my lord," he said, pleased with the teasing note he'd managed, "one would think your thoughts might be ungentlemanly."

"They are," Frey said, with a dark little smile that made him look far too much like his Great-Uncle, "entirely ungentlemanly. And if my lady insists on calling me lord, and thinking me so chivalrous, I might have to remind her that I was born a bastard, in a cattle barn, to a tavern wench."

"So long as your elusive father was not one of the cows, I'm hardly concerned," Etienne said, lightly. "After all, you are Lord Reichwyn now, are you not?"

"So everyone insists on telling me," Frey said. "And he has come to ask his betrothed if she would like to go out for a ride."

Horse-trampling, being thrown from the saddle, neck-breaking, falling down a gully, drowning in a creek, impaled on a broken branch, oh yes. All the things Etienne's dreams were made of. "I would adore the chance for some fresh air."

Frey held out both his hands. "As I hope you adore me?"

Etienne had to rush up then, and take his hands, and be scooped up into another kiss. It was an easier lie than saying yes, Etienne supposed, but he disliked how it set his lips buzzing and made his heart so loud. A dull thump from the window put Frey off his affections, but not enough to release his lady. "What was that?"

"Ah, damn!" Etienne said, with feeling. "It’s the D'Grassa. If I've broken the binding I'll never forgive myself." The book, left teetering on the edge of the window seat in Etienne's wake, had toppled over onto the floor with its pages splayed.

"Not to worry," Frey said, bending to pick it up. "It's been all right for centuries, it looks like it can take a knock or two."

"Still, I hate to abuse a book—oh!" Etienne broke off, because Frey, kneeling there over the book and looking so wonderfully vulnerable, had just given him an idea.

"Something else wrong?" Frey asked, looking at his lady in confusion.

Belatedly, Etienne clapped a hand to his ear. "Yes! Ah, I've lost one of my earrings. It was one of the pearls you had in my wardrobe for me. I hope it's not gone for good!"

Frey put the D'Grassa safely on the window seat, and as Etienne hoped, went back down on his knees. "Not to worry, it must be around here somewhere, as I saw you had it when I came in..."

Etienne hastily took out one of his earrings and chucked it away in the direction of a distant bookshelf, while Frey flipped up the edge of the carpet by the window seat, peering at the floorboards beneath. "This library eats things, I believe. Just the other day I lost one of my pen nibs, and I was rather fond of how that one laid down ink... Oh look! Here it is."

Etienne's hands froze on his collar, but Frey had only found the pen nib, not the earring. "I hope then my pearl will turn up," he said, and as Frey went back to searching, Etienne yanked a length of fine, deadly wire from the net of stiffened black lace that rose up from his collar. The handles were gilt toggles that looked like common decorations, and the wire whispered a high, thin note in Etienne's hands. What would one more red line be, among the many already lacing Frey's body?

Frey sat back a little to look under the cushions of the window seat, and then, Etienne sprung.

It was beautifully simple. The invisible wire looped around Frey's throat, drawn tight in Etienne's hands as the assassin used his entire body to leverage his force. It was quick, elegant, bloodless. With Frey's windpipe blocked, there was only a moment's silent struggle, like a fish dangling at the end of a line. Frey's grasping hands reached out blindly for aid and knocked over the ink-pot on the writing desk, upsetting a candelabra and igniting the desk papers with a breathy roar. The heat of the rising flames licked Etienne's face, relaxing the false curls of his wig. Soon the conflagration would take the entire room, and Freyton Reichwyn Landry with it, along with all the Archdemon's desires. It was a shame about the books, but it was a mission, Etienne's mission, and it must be accomplished at any cost.

...except that it wasn't.

Etienne did not, in fact, get much further than looping the wire around Frey's neck. The rest happened with glorious brevity in his imagination, until Etienne pulled the wire taut, and it snapped. The unexpected lack of murder sent him staggering backwards a step, bewildered. The finest garroting wire in Ivanis City, specially made for him by a master craftsman in the tools of death, broken in two as though it were no more than a cobweb!

Frey fell back on his heels with a surprised cough, and Etienne stuffed the broken garroting wire down into his bodice.

"My lord?" he asked, shoving his own annoyance aside to radiate mild concern instead, wondering if Frey had chanced to see the wire flickering in front of his eyes. Perhaps he'd thought it only a stray hair, one of the ones that so often escaped from his queue. "Are you all right?"

"Ah—yes, I think so," Frey said, patting his cravat in some confusion. "For a moment I thought... It must have only been this pulling tight, though."

"This?" Etienne said thinly, bracing for accusations. But Frey only pulled an object free of his waistcoat. Twirling on the end of a silk ribbon was a miniature painting of Etienne dressed as Elsa, the one that had been sent along with his letters. Ephaseus had painted it himself for the ruse.

"I put it round my neck this morning, you see, and wound it twice as the ribbon was a bit long. It must have just pulled tight when I bent over. The locket's gold, so it's quite heavy." Frey rubbed his throat, laughing ruefully. "For a moment there I thought you were trying to strangle me!"

"Aha ha ha heh!" Etienne's laugh lacked any humor at all, at least to his own ears. Surely Frey must know it was false? "But why would I do that! I haven't even gotten my ride with you yet." By the time he got to the end of his protest, Etienne had managed a decent grasp on his facade again. Still, the word ride came out in far more of a provocative tone than he planned. Frey looked startled and pleased and a little bit breathless at it, though the last was probably more from the near-strangling more than from his lady's advances. "I mean," Etienne fumbled, and looked around in desperation. "I, er—oh, look, there's my pearl!" He hurried over to retrieve the earring, and to do what he could to repair his disguise. "Would you put it back in for me? I'm afraid you startled me so that my hands are shaking. I wouldn't want it to be lost again."

"Your least wish is my highest command," Frey said, and with a deftness that belonged to the card-player more than to the manor lord, Frey slipped the gold earring wire back through Etienne's ear, and admired it there a moment. "I'm so pleased you like them, and your dresses. This is another you're wearing today, is it not? From the ones I had here for you?"

"Ah, yes," Etienne said, trying not to squirm away from the things Frey was doing to his ear. He detested being tickled. "They really are lovely. And the jewels... You are too generous."

"I'm nothing of the sort. Chancelion's fortune is your fortune, and they are yours by right. I've worked hard to bring the family wealth back here, and to provide things suitable for the lady of the house." Frey's hand slipped down to Etienne's jaw, and suddenly it was worth the pain Etienne had gone through to have his beard yanked out with hot sugar tallow before the mission. The least roughness would have been unfortunate, so close. Damn the man for being such a warm-hearted suitor. "It pleases me to see you in them."

Etienne felt a flicker of surprise. "You chose my jewels and things?"

"I did, though Tobias saw to the fitting of your rooms. He said you would be more used to extravagance, coming from the southlands."

"Ah." Gracious adoration, Elsa my girl, he told himself. You are a woman in love with a rich, handsome man, remember. "It's… so kind of him," he finished, and for once was grateful to be kissed, because it meant not having to talk. I am going to throw that accursed cherub in the duck pond when I go.

"I would give you all that and more," Frey said, when they parted again. "But first, I think it best if you try that riding habit on for fit, and meet me down in the courtyard? Say, a quarter of an hour? I'll see to some hawks for us, and mounts."

"I can think of nothing finer," Etienne breathed, kohl-darkened lashes fluttering.

"Good." Frey ran his thumb under Etienne's lower lip. "Till then, my love." He kissed Etienne's knuckles and then was out the door, whistling again, a besotted and happy man.

Etienne sprawled back in a spindly chair not meant for sprawling in, his legs splayed wide and his skirts in disarray as he allowed himself one moment of utter and complete disgust with the world.

"...Fuck."

#the devil's luck #sneak peek #queer lit #indiepub #naughtiness and rude things #fuck that cherub seriously #i know it's really a putti #but putti is specific and cherub is generic and this isn't supposed to be our universe #real writer problems

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diazevan · 5 years

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v. gunpoint

This one is pretty long (4.8k) and is easier to read on AO3. This work was inspired by an episode of the X-Files. (Monday, 6x14)

Warnings: Shooting. Temporary Major Character Death. Descriptions of a dead body.

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Tony cradled Peter in his arms, he brushed his fingers across his cold cheek and muttered soft promises as he slowly rocked back and forth. He knew he was already gone but he couldn’t let his heart go there. Peter was different. They could save him. Bring him back. They had too. He couldn’t die like this.

They’d only gone into the bank to deposit May’s paycheque that wasn’t a hard job. It’s a normal day-to-day task. A trip to the bank. You wait in line, do what you came for, and leave. It’s boring, it’s a part of life. Tony couldn’t remember how they got here. He was dazed. The world around him didn’t make any sense. The shooter’s name was Jack. He had a gun and a bomb. What he wanted was self-explanatory but it hadn’t gone according to plan. He wanted to get the money and get out before the cops arrived. Peter got in his way and paid the price for that act of heroism. Tony wasn’t quick enough. He didn’t save him. “We’re gonna be alright, kid....” He muttered softly as he brushed a hand through Peter’s curls, “You and I. We’re gonna be okay.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss against his forehead, “You’ll see.” “Stop talking.” Jack threatened, pointing his gun towards Tony. “My kid is bleeding out, Jack!” Tony bellowed, “You can’t tell me what to do.” “Yes, I can…” Jack hissed, “I’m in charge.” “You’re in charge…” Tony nodded, “So, what are you gonna do now?” “Walk out of here.” He shrugged, “They won’t shoot me.” He gestured to the bomb strapped around his front, “Not with this.” “They don’t know you have the bomb.” Tony told him, “They can’t see you! So, they don’t know.” “They do.” Jack said, through gritted teeth, “They do know.” The front door crashed open, and a team of police stormed in, guns blazing, “No!” Tony screamed, he pulled Peter closer to his chest, as Jack flipped the switch and they were enveloped in a flash of white.

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Tony burst awake, he leaned forward as he let out an exasperated sigh, he locked his hand in his hair. He was sitting in the backseat of his car. Shit, he couldn’t remember the last time he fell asleep like that, because he never did.

When he slept, if he did at all, it was either in bed with Pepper or on the couch with his kids. If he was falling asleep in the car, then he was really overdoing it. He felt someone prodding him in the arm. He looked up. Peter was the culprit. The kid was staring at him, with wide-eyes, and a mischievous grin, “You having fun?” Tony asked, raising one eyebrow. Peter snorted as he stopped poking him, “You’re so old.” “What did you just say?” Peter’s smile grew wider, “So, you’re nodding off in the car and you’re going deaf too?”

“Kid, you’re not too old to be grounded, you know?” Tony leaned forward, tapping the back of Happy’s chair, “Pull over here, please Hap. We can walk.” “Sure thing, boss.” Happy pulled the car up on the curb, Peter jumped out first, “Thanks, Happy!” “No problem, kid.” Tony playfully nudged Happy’s arm with his fist, “You’re the best, Hap.” He climbed out and closed the door. Happy sped off like there was no tomorrow. Tony turned, wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders, as they headed down the street, “Why’s he not coming with us?” Peter asked. “He’s got a date…” Tony bounced his eyebrows up, “With May, remember?” “Uh, uh.” Peter squirmed away and plugged his ears with his fingers, “Shut up, shut up, shut up! That’s so wrong.” “Wrong?” Tony scoffed, “You already call him ‘Uncle’ Happy.” “Because Morgan does!” Peter exclaimed, holding out his arms to amplify his point, “It’s not an excuse to date my aunt…” He stuck out his tongue, “Eh, gross.” “They’re happy together.” A look of betrayal etched over Peter’s face, “Why would you say that?” “Okay, I’ll stop.” Tony buried his hand in his back pocket and pulled out one of his cards, he slapped it into Peter’s palm, “Here. You pick up lunch, I’m gonna grab a paper.” “Wow.” Peter backed away, “You’re so old.” Tony narrowed his eyes, “Watch it.” Peter skipped away, chuckling as he went. Tony started to walk over toward the newspaper stand but was stopped when a firm hand wrapped around his wrist, stealing his attention, “Stark.” An unknown man muttered quietly. Tony snatched his wrist back. The man looked like he was sleeping rough, and Tony felt guilty for pulling his hand away when the poor guy probably only wanted a few dollars. However, for Tony, being defensive, was an occupational hazard. “Yes?” “You know me..” The guy stuttered, “Well, you should. Um, uh, I’m David.” He looked over his shoulder, like he was afraid of something, “You need to go home.” Tony stifled a laugh, “Pardon?” “Go home, now.” David pleaded, “Don’t go to the bank. Grab your son, and come back tomorrow instead.” Tony’s heart leapt up into his throat, “How…” The public knew about Peter, but only in a professional capacity. The world thought he was simply Tony’s intern. Tony had only recently entered a co-adoption with May, but that wasn’t being made public for another week, “How do you know about Peter?” “You adopted him.” “Yes, but that’s not public until next week.” Tony hissed, “So, I’ll ask again, how do you know that?” “Just trust me.” David didn’t falter, he stood strong in his plea, “Don’t go to the bank.” He hurried away, leaving Tony with more questions than answers. Peter walked over, holding onto a singular hot dog, he’d already scoffed his own, “Who was that?” “No idea.” Tony said, Peter held out the hot dog, “You eat it, I’m not that hungry.” “Uh...okay.” Peter turned, “Come on, I’ve gotta deposit May’s cheque before she kills me.”

Tony walked beside him, “Let’s use an ATM.” He didn’t believe David’s warning but he wanted to be cautious, “The banks gonna be rammed.” Peter tried to answer but his mouth was full, he’d demolished the hot dog like he hadn’t eaten in years. This morning, he had two stacks of pancakes that Pepper made. The kid’s metabolism was truly insane, “Don’t talk with your mouth full.” They turned the corner towards the ATM, Peter pulled the cheque out of his backpack and leaned over, pressing the side of his machine, “Eh. Out of service.” He groaned, “I thought tech would be better in 2024. Guess not.” Tony looked over his shoulder, he knew there was another machine close by, “We can see if the one around-- “ When he turned back, Peter was gone, “Kid?” “I’ll be quick!” Peter called back, he was heading up the steps, into the bank. Tony felt dread swallow him whole as he charged after him. “Peter!” He shouted, urgently, but with his voice low. Peter was waiting at the back of a queue, Tony stopped beside him, “Why are you being so weird?” Peter asked, tilting his head to his shoulder. “Weird?” Tony’s voice involuntary went high-pitched, “I’m not being weird.” “Yes, you are.” Tony cleared his throat, “I’m not.” “So just old, then.” Tony rolled his eyes, “No.” Peter squinted, “...Senile?” “Kid…” Tony was about to mock him in retaliation but Peter’s smile dropped, and the colour drained from his cheeks, as he frantically started looking around the room, “Hey, Peter, what’s wrong?” Peter looked at him, his eyes widened in alarm, “Are you okay?” Peter shook his head. “Customers, face down!” A man bellowed from beside them. He was holding a gun up, waving it around, with an inexperienced trembling hand. Some of the customers screamed, while others muttered under their breath, they all complied, getting down onto the floor, “You know what this is!” He was wearing a dark green parker, it was zipped up to the top. It was June, so it didn’t take Tony long to work out what he had hidden under there. Tony pushed Peter’s shoulder, “Get down, kid.” Peter listened, for once, he got down on his front, leaning his head to the side to watch on. Making sure he was ready to jump in if it came to it. Tony stayed on his feet, he crushed his panic button on his watch. Alarmingly, it didn’t work. It failed. That was impossible unless this shooter was ridiculously clever and had a way to jam the network. “Shit.” Tony dropped to his knees and lay down beside Peter. Peter tapped his fingers on the floor in morse code. S-P-I-D-E-R-M-A-N. Tony shook his head in response, Peter nodded. “Money, in the bags now!” The guy screamed, “No alarms!” Tony flinched as the robber’s footsteps got closer to them. From now on, Tony would always have his nanotech suit prepared. Ever since, he retired, he never brought it out. In light of celebration, he forgot that the world was still such a dark place. “Stark.” The man roared cheerfully, he reached down, grabbing hold of Tony’s shoulder in an unforgiving grip and pulling him to his feet. He reached over, pressing his fingers into Tony’s cheeks, holding his face in his hand, “I’ve hit the jack box today, haven’t I?” “Have you?” Tony mumbled. The man released his cheeks, and Tony extended his jaw to numb the sting. “You’re retired.” The man brushed down Tony’s jacket, “No suit with you, and I’ve jammed the signals.” “Yes.” Tony raised his eyebrow, “Well done, not many people can jam my tech. I’d say almost no one. Who helped you with that?” “Like I’d tell you.” Tony turned his eyes to the side, Peter hadn’t moved yet, but he knew as soon as the man made the wrong move, the teen would be up on his feet in no time, “Okay, buddy. I’ll give you whatever you want if you let everyone go first.” The man bent down and grabbed Peter’s arm, dragging him up onto his feet, “What are you doing? “He with you?” He barked. Tony knew there were two ways to play this. The man wanted to use Peter as leverage, as a bargaining chip to get what he wanted. Tears filled Tony’s eyes, as he shook his head. The guy sneered, “Liar.” He locked an arm around Peter’s chest, and pressed the barrel of his gun against Peter’s temple, Tony’s stomach flipped, and he had to bite down on his lip, “You’re gonna listen to me, or the kid gets it, you hear me?” “Okay, okay.” Tony held up his hands in surrender, “I’m listening.” Tony didn’t like how calm Peter was. He was almost emotionless. It hurt to admit that seeing his kid, straight-faced, unafraid of a literal gun held against his head, was worse than the day he’d disappeared, begging to be saved. This was either a bravado, or Peter wasn’t scared to die anymore. Peter grabbed the man’s wrist and with an effortless swing, threw him over his shoulder, down onto the ground. Tony let out a loud squeak; when Peter wasn’t in the suit, he often forgot how strong he was. “Come on, kid.” He beckoned, holding out his hand. Peter leapt over the man, who was gagging as he forced air back into his shocked lungs. Peter looked dazed like he hadn’t expected that he could do that. It was Peter’s hazed mind, that stopped him from seeing what happened next. The man grabbed his ankle, and Peter stumbled. Tony leapt forward, reaching out, ready to ball his hand around Peter’s backpack to pull him to safety. It was too late. The man pulled the trigger, and the bullet hit Peter’s chest, at close range. “Peter!” Tony slid over on his knees, catching Peter in his arms, as he crumbled to the ground. “Hey, hey.” He cried out frantically, as he brushed his fingers against Peter’s cheek. Peter didn’t speak or even mummer. His eyes were half-open, and he kept blinking, slowly. He wasn’t with it, he was lifelessly staring down, as he desperately gasped for air, “Kid?” Tony pressed his hand against the wound, his throat cracked as blood covered his palm, “Kid, look at me, please.” The man got back onto his feet, cocking his gun, holding it in Tony’s direction. Tony wanted to kill him but knew he had a duty. An oath Peter had taught him when they first met. When you can do the things that I can, but you don't...and then the bad things happen...they happen because of you. Tony had two jobs, keep Peter alive, and save everyone else in that room. He wasn’t going to do that with violence. Tony looked up, “So, what’s your name?” He asked as he stroked his fingers through Peter’s hair, “I’ve gotta call you something.” “Jack.” “Okay, Jack.” Tony spoke gently as if he was talking to a rebellious child, “He’s still alive but I’ve gotta get him out of here. You don’t wanna be a killer, do you? You just need cash.” Jack gritted his teeth, “You know nothing about needing cash.” “Perhaps not. But I can help you, if let me save my kid, please.” He pleaded, blinking tears away as he rocked forward. Jack said nothing. “Did you blip, Jack?” “Yes.” “And life is different now, isn’t it?” He asked, “Everything feels wrong. Out of place.” Jack stepped forward, shaking his gun, “You don’t know what it’s like!” “This is Peter.” Tony said hastily, as he pressed his fingers against Peter’s neck, “He’s my kid. He blipped, and I...I only just got him back. I don’t wanna lose him again.” He choked on a sob, “Have you got someone you love? Someone you can’t lose.” “My best friend.” “Best friend, hey? I’ve got two of those, James Rhodes and Happy Hogan.” He smiled falsely, to give Jack a sense of security, “They’re great. I bet your friend is great too. Would he be happy…” He trailed off, “..If he knew you were doing this?” “I’m doing this for him.” Jack spat, “He needs…” “Help. I can help him.” Tony promised, “If you let everyone go.” “No!” Jack unzipped his parker, revealing the bomb strapped around his front, “No one leaves! “Okay, okay.” Tony strained as he went back to threading his fingers through Peter’s hair. “Peter’s only seventeen, and he’s got a best friend too, Ned, who loves him very much.” He explained, “You understand that, don’t you, Jack? How much you love your best friend?” Jack jumped around, throwing a tantrum. Tony had obviously hit a nerve, “Shut up!” “Tony…” Peter choked out. An invisible weight hit Tony’s chest, stealing his breath, as he looked down at his kid, “Hey, baby. You’re alright.” A gut-wrenching gargle escaped passed Peter’s lips as Tony bounced him, back and forth, “Pete?” Peter’s eyes rolled back, and he grew limp in Tony’s grip, “Kid?” At first, Peter’s breathing was unrhythmic and violent, then his breaths grew longer, but further between. The violence quickly slipped away, replaced by two peaceful breaths, and then, there was only silence. “Peter?” Tony whimpered, he cupped his cheek, “Please don’t do this to me, bud.” He brushed his fingers through Peter’s curls, “We’re gonna be alright, kid...You and I. We’re gonna be okay.” He pressed a kiss against his forehead, “You’ll see.” “Stop talking.” Jack spat. “My kid is bleeding out, Jack! Don’t you fucking tell me what to do.” “I’m in charge!” “You’re in charge…” Tony shouted, “So, what are you gonna do now then?” “Walk out of here. They won’t shoot me.” “They don’t know you have the bomb! And you’ve jammed the signals, so they can’t call! They don’t know what your plan is!” “They do. They do know.” The front door crashed open, and a team of police stormed in, guns blazing. Jack flipped the switch, and Tony welcomed the darkness that followed.

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Tony shot awake, gasping for air. He was in the car on the way into town, with Happy and Peter. Yeah, he was seriously overdoing it lately. “Are you okay?” Peter queried, nudging Tony’s shoulder, with concern reflected in his eyes. “Yeah…” Tony nodded, “I’m fine.” Peter snorted a laugh, “You’re so….” His face crumpled, and he dotted his eyes to the floor. “What?” “Sorry…” Peter chuckled, “...That was weird.” “What was?” “I don’t know.” Peter shrugged, “Just a sense of Déjà vu.” “I get you, kid.” Happy commented, “Every time I drive you two around it’s a sense of Déjà vu.” “Very funny, Hap.” Tony said, monotone, “Pull over here, please. We can walk.” “Sure thing.” Happy pulled up onto the curb. “Thanks, Happy!” Peter leapt out of the car, Tony followed swiftly behind. Peter let out a gentle coo and skipped over to a dog that had been left tied to a lamppost outside a newsagent, “Aw, hello. What’s your name?” He asked as he knelt, the dog jumped up, greeting Peter excitedly. “Stark.” A man muttered as he tapped Tony’s shoulder. “Do I know you?” The question sounded foreign in Tony’s mouth because he did know him, he just didn’t know why. “No.” The man sighed, “Whatever you do, don’t let your son go into the bank today.” He hurried away, as quickly as he appeared, “What?” How did he know that Peter was his son? That wasn’t public knowledge yet, “Hey!” “Who was that?” Peter asked, reappearing at his side. “I don’t know.” Tony turned, and unzipped Peter’s backpack, taking out May’s cheque. “What are you doing?” Peter asked as Tony zipped the bag back up. “You go and get lunch.” Tony handed over his card, “I’ll deposit this and meet you outside.” Peter bounced back on his heel, “Cool beans.” “Cool, what now?” Tony asked as Peter skipped away, “Huh, teenagers.” Tony cautiously walked up the stairs into the bank. He didn’t know why he was on edge but something was happening, something he couldn’t explain. Peter was right, it felt like Déjà vu. Tony joined the back of the queue and his mind turned to the man outside. How did he know Peter was his son? And why didn’t he want Peter to go into the bank? Why did Tony recognize him? Nothing was making any sense. “Everyone on the floor now!” A man ordered from behind. He had a gun, he was inexperiencedly waving it around. He had a bomb too, Tony could tell by the parker he was wearing.“You know what this is!”Tony wasn’t shocked, not as much as he should be. He knew this was going to happen, how did he know that? “Shit.” Tony cursed under his breath when he realised his panic button didn’t work. “Stark?” The man sneered, he strode over, keeping the gun held up. “If I knew you were here, I wouldn’t have done this.” He gestured to the room, civilians were down on the ground, while the bankers were stood, waiting to be ordered around. “You’ve got me.” Tony told him, “Why don’t you and I get out of here? I can give you everything you want if you let all these people go.” “No.”

“I’m offering you...anything you want,” Tony said. The man didn’t react, “What’s your name?”

“Jack.” “Okay, Jack. What do you want?” Jack raised his eyebrows, and grinned, “I think you know.” “Money? Of course.” Tony clapped his hands together, “Let everyone go, and we can talk.” Jack stepped back, “What is that?” He gestured to Tony’s prosthetic arm with his gun. “This.” Tony pulled the sleeve down. Jack recoiled. Tony knew why, the arm was painted the same colour as the Iron Man armour, it would look pretty intimidating to a criminal. “Take it off!” Jack barked. “I can’t. It’s not part of a suit. It’s a prosthetic arm.” Tony explained, “I lost it in the final battle. Do you know that? And my kid’s designed it, that’s why it looks like this. It’s harmless.”

“Take--” The door swung open, and Peter walked in, holding a paper bag with their lunch in. He had his earplugs in, he used them to drown out sounds when he was experiencing sensory overload. It meant that his fight or flight reflect was dampened, he hadn’t sensed the danger when he entered. Tony leapt forward in an attempt to disarm Jack, but he was too late. Jack pulled the trigger. Tony heard Peter’s lifeless body hit the floor before he turned to see, “Peter…” Peter was curled up on the floor, his lifeless eyes stared forward. Blood poured from underneath his head. Tony pressed his arm to his mouth as he retched, “Peter!” Jack turned back, wide-eyed, “What?” Tony stumbled over to where Peter lay. “No.” Tony looked over his shoulder as Jack unzipped his jacket to reveal the bomb underneath. “He’s got a bomb..” Tony muttered like a mantra, “He’s got a bomb, he’s got a bomb.” Jack flipped the switch.

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

Tony jumped awake. He was safe, in the back of his car, with Happy and Peter, “Woah, Mr. Stark.” Peter held out his hand grabbing his shoulder, “You okay? You fell asleep. You know, like an old man.” “Yeah, I guess I did.” He rubbed his temple, “Wow, I’m overdoing it.” He tapped the back of Happy’s chair, “Pull over here, Hap. We can walk.” “Okay, Boss.” Happy pulled over. Peter opened the door, and bounced out, “Thanks, Happy! See you later.” “See you, kid.” Tony jumped out, he stopped Peter by placing a hand on his shoulder. He quickly unzipped Peter’s backpack and took out May’s cheque. Peter turned around, with a raised eyebrow, “I’ll take this to the bank. You go and save us a table at McDonald's.” “...Alright.” Peter turned and hurried away. Tony headed over towards the bank, a man reached out, grabbing his arm, “Stark.” “It’s you.” Why did he say that? He’d never met this man before, or had he? The man’s jaw dropped, “You know me?” “I…” Tony trailed off, “...Think so. Don’t know why though.” “I’m David.” He introduced as he released Tony’s arm “We do know each other, we’ve spoken every day, for the past four-hundred-and-thirty-six days.” He explained, “This day. Today. It’s never tomorrow. It’s always today.” He pointed over to the bank, “You and Peter go into the bank every time, and you both die. My best friend, Jack, he kills you. Every time. No matter what I say. Sometimes you listen, but you go in anyway. Play hero. Other times, you’ve told me to beat it.” Tony’s forehead creased, “How can I trust you? You could be making this all up.” “But you know me.” David told him, “It’s getting inside your head like it’s in mine.” “I need proof.” “Your son.” David sighed, “Did he bring his suit with him? It’s in his backpack, right?” Tony stepped back in horror, “What?” “It’s taken me so long to figure it out.” He admitted, “Why would you adopt some random kid from Queens? I worked it out, he’s Spider-Man. You met because you’re both heroes.” Tony’s blood boiled, “If you ever lay…” He couldn’t tell if this man was truly trying to help him, or if he was threatening Peter. He knew who Peter was, that made him dangerous, right? “I won’t.” David interrupted, “I just want this to be over.” He pointed to a car parked on the sidewalk, “I’m going to get in my car, if you want to know more, just ask.” Tony watched him walk away. Curiosity twisted its spindly fingers around his wrist, and pulled him away, into the bank. He hovered in the doorway taking in the scene. He noticed a man, hunched over the desk, scribbling down on a piece of paper. Tony didn’t know why he knew but that was Jack. “He’s got a bomb, he’s got a bomb, he’s got a bomb,” Tony muttered. Faint outlines of memories Tony shouldn’t have crossed his mind, and he hurried back outside, scrambling for his phone. “Tony? What’s up?” Peter answered with his usual exuberance “Listen to me, kid.” Tony said, urgently, “This isn’t gonna make any sense but I need you to put your suit on." “What, why?” “Just listen, please. Put the suit on. On the road Happy dropped us off on, there’s an old car...a Volvo, I think. It’s rusty, looks like it’s falling apart. There’s a guy in there, grab him, and bring him to the bank with you.” “I don’t…” Peter blurted, “...understand.” “Just do it, okay?” Tony pleaded, “He’ll know what it’s about.” “Okay, I’ll be there as quick as I can.” He heard Peter hurrying around, “Love you.” “Love you too.” Tony hung up and skipped back into the bank. He cautiously walked over to where Jack was stood, he placed his hand on the desk, and Jack flinched, looking up at him with piercing eyes, “Jack, right? You know who I am, and I know who you are.” He started, “I don’t want anyone in here to get hurt.” He gestured to the door, “If you walk out of that door, right now, I won’t come after you. You have my word. Change your mind, you’re better than this.” “I am this.” Tony shook his head, “You don’t have to be.” “There is no other way.” Jack turned, holding up his gun, “Everybody down! Now! You know what this is!” Everyone screamed, and threw themselves to the ground, doing what he said. Tony heard the door creak open. Peter rushed in, hidden behind the Spider-Man costume, with David by his side. “Jack!” Tony called, “Ask him!” He gestured to David, “What does he think?” “David.” Jack breathed, shocked, “Get out of here, now!” “You’re hurting him, you know?” Tony barked, “Everything you’re doing. He’s lived this day, over and over again. We all have. Hundreds of times, and we all die. If you loved him...you wouldn’t keep doing this.” “Shut up.” Jack spat, “Stop...talking…” Peter shot out a web, and it attached to Jack's wrist, he tugged on him. Jack was quick, unzipping his parker to reveal the bomb. Tony held out a cautious hand, “Spider-Man, stand down.” Jack pulled on the web, dragging Peter closer, “What are you gonna do now, Spidey?” He asked, “We don’t need people like you anymore! This city needs people like me! Who fight for the people we love.” “You don’t love me, Jack…” David sighed, tears swimming in his eyes, “If you do this. You say we’re like brothers but Stark’s right...You’ve made Stark watched his kid die hundreds of times!” Peter turned, Tony couldn’t see his face past the mask, but he could imagine the horror in his eyes, “This isn’t you.” “I’m doing this for you!” Jack screamed. David shook his head, “I don’t want you too.” “Tough…” Jack turned his gun in Tony’s direction and pulled the trigger. David leapt in front, the bullet hit his chest and he fell to the ground, boneless. Tony hurried to his side, as Jack fell to his knees, dropping his gun. Peter webbed his hands behind his back, as Tony rolled David over, “Hey.” “This never happened before.” David choked out, his eyes rolled back, and his body stilled. Tony looked up at Peter, with teary-eyes, because he remembered. He knew he shouldn’t but he did. Every day, every hour, every second. He watched his kid die over five hundred times and that's enough to drive anyone insane.

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

Tony found Peter, out of his suit, sat on a wall, a few streets down from where everything happened. “Hey, kid.” He tugged on his shoulders dragging him into a hug. He rubbed circles against his back, “How are you doing?” “Okay.” Peter squeaked, Tony, leaned back to look him in the eye, “You?” “I’m okay too.” He hopped up onto the wall, Peter leaned against his side, holding his arm. “So, we were in a time loop?” “Yes.” Peter brushed away tears with the back of his hand, “And you figured it out?” “I think we all did….” Tony sighed, “In a way.” “Yeah, something felt off.” Peter agreed, “How long were we in it?” “About a year and a half.” “Wow.” Peter sighed, in disbelief, “How did he do it? David. How did he turn back time?” “He was inhuman.” Tony dipped his chin to his chest, “He just didn’t know it. The loop broke when he died.” “It’s not your fault, you know?” Peter squeezed his arm as he tucked his head against his collarbone. “I know,” Tony sniffled, “You... died.” “Not really.” Peter reassured him, “I’m still here, aren’t I?” “Yeah.” Tony pressed a kiss against Peter's hair, “Let’s keep it that way, hey?”

You can follow this month of scheduled Iron Dad Angst on AO3

#liberty's writing #whumptober2019 #no.5 #gunpoint #irondad & spideyson #tony stark #peter parker #happy hogan #irondad fanfiction #iron dad fanfiction #irondad #iron dad #spidey son #spideyson #tony lives au #endgame au #tw temporary major character death #tw dead body #tw shooting

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uruhaxrukifanfics · 5 years

Note

please give me something so angsty it will make me come back here just to say "i can't believe you've done that to me!!"

The bed was big and comfy, could still barely fit six people, but for just Kouyou - or Kouyou and Takanori both - there was more than enough room to keep anything from getting weird, probably. He’d managed to pull himself up into sitting by the time Takanori knocked from outside the hotel room door, calling him in and reminding him to make sure the door was locked behind him.

“There you are.” He mused with a lazy smile.

An impressed whistle filtered from his puckered lips as he revealed himself fully, arching an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you get around like this,” Takanori greeted with a teasing quirk of a smile, leaning against the wall beside him as he folded his arms across his chest and eyeing Kouyou from where he shifted his weight to his left hip. “Anything else you wanna fill me in on, Shima?”

Kouyou snorted. “My clients get around like this,” he corrected. “I work in hotels. Being nice to the housekeepers is the best way to get decent service. Now, get your tiny ass in here. Order something off the room menu to soak up all those shots I heard you drink. You’ll appreciate me in the morning.” Kouyou didn’t care that it was overpriced and ridiculous when he wasn’t the one who had a credit card on the tab. It was common knowledge when you bought a room for a rent boy you were going to lose at least a hefty price on the tab. They might get bent out of shape over it, but between the lot of them they could certainly pay it. “Let me see your wrist.” His high was already wearing off again – coke always wore off so quickly – so it made him reach out for Takanori all languid and slow, lazy.

Takanori scoffed, a small pout managing to steal its way to the forefront as he sucked his teeth. “You didn’t hear anything,” he mumbled, pushing himself off the wall nice and easy so that he could make his way over just as told. His bag was what he tossed aside and left by the nightstand, standing close and looking for the menu Kouyou spoke of. When he found it, he grabbed for it and tucked a leg underneath himself when sitting on the edge of the bed with Kouyou’s guiding hands reaching for him after he removed his shoes.

“You shouldn’t have hit him–”

Takanori huffed, defensive. “I know–”

“–but I bet you didn’t leave a mark like this.” Kouyou pointed out with a frown as he took in the bruise encircling the other’s slender wrist that bloomed purplish-red., ever so gentle and careful even as he turned Takanori’s arm in his hold. It wasn’t right. Takanori deserved someone better. Would he leave his husband if Kouyou told him the truth? Maybe, but where would he go? What would he do? What would Kouyou do? It was too much to consider, and once again he found himself deciding that he just couldn’t.

These days it felt like he kept having to make that decision every time he saw him.Takanori shook his head. In the end, to him, it didn’t matter how bad it was. His bruise would heal and fade, and… what happened will try to be amended for. He didn’t need forgiveness, but at least he would be the first to admit to what he shouldn’t have done. And for that, he would be apologetic for. They’ll work it out tomorrow, if his husband would spare him the time to talk. Internally, he sighed. If he went ignored tomorrow, he’d understand. “It’s stupid, don’t worry about it,” Takanori assured absently. “It didn’t look so bad earlier, I promise.” His eyes languidly roamed the selections of food he could order in via the telephone on the nightstand, but it was Kouyou’s silence that made his hooded, slightly red eyes glance over at him. “How’re you feeling?” “Hmmm.” Kouyou didn’t give him much of an answer except a noncommittal hum, because while Takanori and he were trying this ‘open’ thing, when it came to information about his job at least, he probably didn’t need to hear details about the client he was hired for. Takanori didn’t push for an answer, and Kouyou was grateful. He didn’t want to talk about it. Just like Takanori seemed to not want to talk about his own bruises, so he let him be, only nodding in agreement as if it were some unsaid queue. But what silence gave to Takanori created a bit more awareness in his alcohol-muddled mind to the fact that Kouyou, upon further inspection, also had bruises. Bruises that marked the hands that handled his bruised wrist, arms, even more on his hips and thighs, but the boxers and t-shirt he wore mostly hid them well. They were marks Kouyou made people pay extra for, he knew, but it was something he fuzzily recalled his old childhood friend not liking so much. Turning his wrist carefully in Kouyou’s grasp, he used the leverage he had to catch ahold of Kouyou’s hand before he could retract it and he didn’t stop, didn’t pause to catch his gaze as he brought it close for his viewing. His hands mimicked the kind, careful treatment Kouyou had given to him, near-permanent-bedroom eyes so intent to see the bruises that he knew hadn’t been there the last time he saw him. A palm steadily scaled up the underside of Kouyou’s arm to outstretch the limb more comfortably and, once scooting up closer on the bed’s edge so he wasn’t leaning from an awkward distance, he dipped his head to press the softest kiss he could muster to a bruise at his arm, leaving in its wake a print of his lipstick. Kouyou’s breath hitched in his throat a little.Oh.It was a thoughtless action. An action running on the fumes of care and wanting to cover what marked him. It was a temporary fix, but Takanori found the action satisfying all the same and he did it again, took his sweet time; as if he had all the time in the world. Another bruise, another patch-up in the form of dusky red lipstick that, whenever he pulled back to marvel at his own work, he erased with his thumb to smear it away. Gone, but still there in traces. When he reached the inner side of Kouyou’s wrist, he let Kouyou’s palm cup his cheek and leaned into it, holding it in place for a moment before turning just enough to press his lips deeper and linger, with no intention to clear it away like he had done the rest. His eyes swept over it with satisfaction before leaning back into Kouyou’s palm, and then, only then, he glanced up at Kouyou under the fan of his eyelashes; inky locks spilling over a shoulder.It had been far too long since Kouyou wanted to sleep with someone. Sure, he got attractive clients sometimes that he didn’t mind, but if they’d approached him in a bar, or weren’t paying him, he still wouldn’t have wanted to. Sex wasn’t something he wanted all that often. Despite his job, he didn’t exactly do anything casual. Without the involvement of feelings, it was just work. Why would he work if he wasn’t getting paid, right? But watching Takanori made him want. He didn’t even know if he could get off right now, between his previous client and the bump of coke left as a tip with his payment, but that wasn’t really what he cared about. What he wanted was to push Takanori back, lay him out, make him moan–“Want to lay down with me after I eat?” Takanori asked in a low murmur with a soft, short-lived quirk of an eyebrow and a tiny smile that cut into Kouyou’s reverie. It was a question Kouyou could give him a verbal answer to, this time. “Help me undress?”“…Yeah.” Kouyou still hadn’t moved his hand from his cheek, hadn’t realized he’d been stroking the skin with his thumb until Takanori turned away to shed off his blazer and unbuckle his belt. He needed to get himself together.That was hard to do when Takanori moved his hair aside so Kouyou could unfasten his necklace while the other fiddled with the buttons of his shirt. He almost managed to control himself, unfastening the hook and leaning over to place aside the necklace on the nightstand by the phone, fingers hovering near the bottom of Takanori’s spine, just before the curve of his arse. But almost didn’t win him any prizes, because when Taknaori’s shirt slacked down his shoulder to expose skin to the air conditioner’s chilly air, Kouyou couldn’t help but slowly slide his hand along the warm skin shown to him. His fingers splayed atop the scatter of tiny moles and faint freckles, eyes soaking them in like constellations painted across a night sky, before descending his mouth to press wet heat to the juncture where shoulder and neck met, lingering there. Takanori’s breath hitched audibly in surprise, a soft, wordless, tiny noise around the part of his lips it slackened around as his eyelashes fluttered, and it seemed as if he thought nothing of it to tilt his head and expose the length of his neck just a little more, his hand blindly finding the back of Kouyou’s neck to hold him there and shiver. He used Kouyou for balance by leaning a bit of his weight against him after discarding his shirt, shimming his hips free a bit to let his slacks pool around his ankles once slipping over his legs.

This was a bad idea. But now that Kouyou was having it he couldn’t stop. He didn’t know what had come over him, other than that he wanted to. He so rarely got to do anything he wanted. If Takanori had pulled away from him or told him off he would have stopped in a heartbeat; it would have broken the weird spell he was under, no matter how out of it he was, but Takanori didn’t. He held him, sought out for his hand that wasn’t plastered to his back and guided it close to press a lingering kiss at his palm before resting it gently at his throat once his head lulled back atop of Kouyou’s shoulder, plastering his back to his chest. And with it, he took away whatever worries Kouyou had, gone so easily and tossed to the wind.“Taka,” Kouyou breathed his name like a prayer, slowly kissing and sucking on the spot of skin his mouth claimed until it was red under his ministrations and then moving to another, biting down carefully whilst tracing Takanori’s bared throat and giving a slight squeeze before trailing feather light down his chest, down down down, and stopping just above the squirm of hips when his fingertips brushed the line of discovered panties– Panties. Kouyou felt dizzy.“Fuck,” He nearly growled, his other hand gripping Taknaori’s hip and squeezing, dragging him in a little closer so that he had Takanori plastering his back up against his chest; coaxing a soft moan right out of him. “Taka.” He nearly begged, moving up and breathing his name wrapped around an unvoiced plea in his ear, needing that permission. He would never do anything Takanori wouldn’t want, but if he let him, he’d do anything.

That could have been their window to place an end to this before it got out of hand. It should have made Takanori pause and think – actually think – and stop, the ring on the fourth finger of his left hand said he had a husband, probably waiting for him to come back no matter how out of hand their argument had gotten. A husband that was inconsistent, hardly home, and hadn’t touched him like this since…“Yeah,” Takanori breathed with a nod of his head, a thrill tickling the base of his spine. “Yes–” He just needed to get his hands on him, starved enough to need Kouyou’s hands on him, and that was what pushed him to turn so he could crawl his way into Kouyou’s lap and straddle him, cupping his face in his hands and finally meeting his gaze. “Do it,” he edged on in a whisper as he brushed their lips together, his tone husked in arousal and want. “Take them off me.”That was all the consent Kouyou needed to make whatever sense of control he had over himself, any thoughts that he shouldn’t be doing this, snap. He gripped Takanori’s hips and squeezed carefully again, rolling his hips up against him and pressing in for a deep kiss, smothering anything else Takanori had in mind to say. He didn’t have to say anything more. His pupils were so wide they were overtaking the rest of his iris, breath hitching already, and he nodded in agreement as if it were an afterthought. His hands hooked under Takanori’s legs and turned them on the bed big enough that he could just roll right on top of him, flipping Takanori’s world askew. Takanori would have used that same momentum to push and turn them himself, but being spread open and held in place did things to a man that had him seeing stars. Takanori, under any and every means necessary, was no exception to it.Settling between the spread of Takanori’s legs that his hands kept parted, Kouyou shivered. “Baby, look at you,” He murmured low and husky in awe under his breath, kissing and nipping his way slowly down Takanori’s neck. “You’re gorgeous.”

Takanori’s head tilted back into the mattress with an unintelligible noise and heart aflutter, his fingers burying in Kouyou’s hair after finally, finally, getting a chance to feel the shaved, faded undercut so intimately; arching into the onslaught of kisses Kouyou heatedly planted on his skin in his slow endeavor down his neck to reach his chest, mouth lingering on his stomach. His stomach and hips softly trembled under the mercy of Kouyou’s lingering ministrations, and when Kouyou’s teeth dragged the lacy garment down far enough to free his heavy arousal he made sure to lift his head and catch every sight of it. He didn’t want to forget this – he prayed he wouldn’t forget in the morning how Kouyou looked sucking a mark right at the juncture of his hip and leaving a matching bruise on the inside of his thought before–“Jesus– holy shit,” he swore in a colorful streak – that Kouyou grinned at – through a deep moan the moment Kouyou’s mouth found him, his head thumping back onto the mattress with desperate fingers curling in the other’s hair as if would help him. He couldn’t stop the way his left thigh gave a strong jolt underneath the palm of Kouyou’s hand as he was held in place, or how his hips automatically shifted to slowly rock into the moist heat of Kouyou’s mouth that felt too overwhelmingly good; helplessly, blankly, staring up at the ceiling in a heap of agape dusky red lips and flushed pink from the highs of his cheeks to the length of his neck. Kouyou thought he looked stunning, trying to keep his eyes open and whispering little pleas for Kouyou to keep looking at him the way he did. Keep looking at me just like that, please– He nodded, of course. Gave him exactly what he wanted and sucked him down to the very hilt, his hands moving from holding Takanori’s legs spread to settling on his hips where he did not hold him down but encouraged him to rock up and use him. He could listen to Takanori moan under him for the rest of his life. It was so different; he hadn’t had sex for fun since the divorce with Yuu, and he hadn’t realized how sad that was until now. That it was with his married friend was something he’d have to deal with later, but for now he wanted to make Takanori feel good, make him come.

The back of Kouyou’s throat was enough to bring a man to his knees if Takanori was standing up as clipped sounds of pleasure twisted around the wet, lascivious sounds from fucking into his mouth without holding himself back whilst holding Kouyou’s head close. And when Takanori came, he came gasping helpless moans high for the heavens, toes curling– grinding trembling hips up against Kouyou’s face as his head thumped back into the mattress; eyes screwing shut and unable to keep their gaze locked. Kouyou’s mouth lingering to swallow him and chuckle around his mouthful only made his entire body flinch in oversensitivity, a breathy whine pulled from him as he shook his head and pushed weakly at Kouyou’s shoulder with a huffed laugh caught between a moan bubbling richly from out of him, hips squirming a twist in Kouyou’s hands whilst Kouyou slipped off of him with a lewd, little wet pop.That didn’t mean he wanted Kouyou to take his hands off him, no matter how sensitive he felt.“Oh, fuck,” Takanori sighed dreamily after a moment of trying to gather his thoughts together to form a coherently structured response. No set of words in any vocabulary could explain how floaty he felt, dazed and… shit. Holy shit, it had been one of the best orgasms he’s had outside his collection of toys and he laughed and laughed until his eyes grew teary and the zoo in his stomach dared to whisk him away if he didn’t get his hands on Kouyou any sooner. His hands needed to be on him now without an inch of his t-shirt stopping him from skin-on-skin contact, to feel Kouyou atop of him. And when he did have him, immediately settling right between the spread of his legs after discarding his shirt when he somehow found the strength to slip a leg out of his lacy panties simply so it could hang off his left ankle, he cupped Kouyou’s face in his hands and gazed at him with heavily lidded eyes. His thumb traced over his lips in a slow brush after taking the time to pepper kisses up and down the column of his neck and the sharp structure of his jawline.Despite the fact that it was Takanori, Kouyou was still surprised by the gentle caresses, the soft kisses that left little red smudges over his face. Even with the boyfriend experience included in his work, it was a softness he didn’t encourage, let alone receive, often. He didn’t realize how badly he wanted it… For a sex worker, he was positively touch starved. But when Takanori kissed him, it was the best part. Not an ounce of hesitation in sight. He nearly purred, squeezing Takanori’s hips and kissing back deeply, needy. He rolled his hips against his lazily, delighted to find that he was so hard, it almost hurt. Still, he didn’t rush, kissing Takanori languid and slow. He knew he would never get this again, but he was going to make it count."I want to lay you out,” He murmured between their shared kisses, voice low and thrumming. “Make you come again, and again, with my fingers,” kiss. “my mouth,” a deeper kiss, drawing back a smidgen just to breathe a whisper that would curl along the roof of Takanori’s mouth: “my cock.” Takanori’s mouth slacked in need, anticipation trickling hot down his spine and making him dizzy. “I think I can, what about you? Hmm? Maybe take you out onto the balcony and press you up against the glass, give some of the people in the upper floors across the way a show. You look so fucking good.“

Let him count the ways… How many times could Kouyou make him come in a single night? Could Kouyou keep up? Could he? Hell, he didn’t even know, but it seemed like it was a challenge waiting to be taken to find out. “You better make promise on taking me on the balcony later,” Takanori husked, running his fingers through Kouyou’s hair as he cupped the nape of his neck with his other hand. “I want them to see how good you make me feel when you fuck me.”Kouyou wouldn’t brag or anything, but he was good at sex. Sure, most people thought they were, but Kouyou was a professional. It was what he did for a living. But this? This wasn’t work. This was a delight, how insatiable Takanori was under him, around him, over him. He felt like he was eighteen all over again, young and easy and chasing the ocean’s waves that always returned to crash along the shore no matter how many times it strayed away, and not thirty. Every time he thought they were finished Takanori would shift or move or make a sweet sound that had him rearing to go all over again, all over the hotel room. The bed, the floor, the bathtub, the bathroom countertop.The balcony.Another orgasm wasn’t possible, Takanori said. No matter how full he wanted to be of Kouyou, again, no matter how much hearing him call him baby set him off – and other names of endearment that never failed to get home going throughout the night – he just… it was too much as Kouyou rolled his hips to fuck him slowly just as he wanted. But the pleasure was there, thrumming under his skin and coiling tight in his groin with a sob of pleasure. Kouyou just needed Takanori to keen his name when he came one more time, for the rising sun to bare witness just as the moon had and hear how he successfully coaxed it out of him, eyes wet and painted fingernails dragging across his back for the umpteenth time as he trembled in Kouyou’s hold; it would see reason why Kouyou’s chest fluttered as they panted heavily, clinging to one another and daring to never let go.Takanori was perfect. Kouyou had touched all of him, tasted him, listened to him keen and cry in pleasure, and he was sure of it. There wasn’t a single person in the world more perfect than Takanori Matsumoto and he didn’t want to let go of him, didn’t want to move away or out of him right away, so he didn’t. He rested atop of him, trying desperately to catch his breath in stuttering little gasps that found safety on Takanori’s chest and the comforting hand passing through wet locks; the scatter of little kisses pressed close to his forehead his eyes closed against as they found stability together in each other’s arms. He was all fucked out, had expended more energy with Takanori than he had on his client before him, and between the lot he was pretty sure he was going to sleep until tomorrow. Never mind that later entailed everything would come crashing down on them and they would have to talk. But, later was later and sleep was needed, and the pair ended up passing out in a matter of minutes after shifting to do so. At least for a few hours. Takanori stirred from his sleep only when Kouyou carefully shifted out of him, and to soothe the near-automatic sensation of being empty he gripped onto Kouyou, drowsily mumbling for him to come back so he could cradle his head back to his chest, where it belonged; oblivious to the rising sun and the early morning that bled into the afternoon.When either of them stirred, Kouyou was the first to wake. Simply because he was starving, and his head was throbbing. They’d drank all those little alcohol shooters last night – including more than a few body shots – but a bump of coke and alcohol didn’t mix. Not the next morning, at least. His tired body shifted and he rubbed his face against the pillow under him with a low groan. There was the feeling of a body next to him, but that wasn’t too uncommon, so it took him a while before he carefully wiggled out of the loose grip around his waist and sat up, rubbing his head. He felt like he’d been hit by a train – or fucked by one – with how much his entire body ached and betrayed him.He finally forced his eyes open, looking down at the sleeping soundly beside him and… he froze. Takanori. He’d thought… Well, admittedly, he’d thought it was a dream. That Takanori had drunk-dialed him around the time he’d finished working, that he’d come here, that they'd– fuck. Fuck. Last night had been… ridiculous. And amazing. Absolutely amazing. He’d forgotten how much fun it was to have sex for… well, fun. Until now.Had he just ruined everything?Kouyou worried his lip. Had almost reached out to brush some of Takanori’s hair away from his face. Almost, started to even, before he caught himself and pulled back. Would he be upset with him? Maybe he wouldn’t care – maybe he and his husband had some open-relationship agreement or something and he just hadn’t realized it. He almost wished that was the case, because then he could feel a little better about Takanori’s husband hiring him, if that were the case… But he had a feeling it wasn’t.He didn’t regret sleeping with Takanori, not like he did sleeping with his husband, but if he lost Takanori because of it, it would be even worse.“…Taka?”The sound of his name earned a groggy little noise out of him, hellbent to keep his eyes closed. Takanori was dimly aware of the faint-nausea waiting for him to sit up all too fast and the brightness of the day being too much for his eyes that would feel like there was a little too much pressure behind them. “Kouyou,” Takanori echoed back after a moment, careful and slow. He peeked open an eye just to be sure of his surroundings. Kouyou’s heart felt as if it was lodged in his throat when their gazes met. He didn’t… look angry, despite the deep sigh he slowly exhaled with a slight shake of his head. Not that he could really tell, with how exhausted they both were. “Lay back down. I’m not talking about this while sitting up. I don’t have the strength to.” Kouyou managed a weak, exhausted chuckle, sliding back down to lay out next to Takanori again – not wrapped around each other like they were before – but Takanori’s fingers itched to trace his fingertips over Kouyou’s brow, down the slope of his nose and over his cupid’s bow like he had when they found themselves in the bathtub hours ago. Instead, his fingertips twitching softly against the pillow caught Kouyou’s attention. “…We were both– Pretty fucked up last night.” “To say the least,” Takanori agreed, joining in with his own weak, exhausted chuckle, rubbing the remaining sleep out of his eye with another deep sigh. His smile eased the small ache in Kouyou’s chest a little bit as they simply gazed at each other in the lulled silence they shared, tracing over a lone dusky patch of freckles on his cheek once his smile simmered down to just a faint yet soft tilt. “I won’t… say I regret it. I won’t say sorry. It isn’t a regret to me.” He reached out to rest his smaller hand atop of Kouyou’s, as if to further assure him as he shrugged a bare shoulder. Kouyou didn’t know why he expected Takanori to freak out. Having him admit that much was was more than he’d expected to get, but Takanori always surprised him. No matter how he insisted they couldn’t ever do this again was–No, that was fair. Perhaps sad, but fair. Of course they couldn’t. Takanori was married. Married to someone that was cheating on him, but–He wanted to tell him. He should tell him. Right now. Before things got more out of hand. “Taka-“ Kouyou started–“But I can’t do this again. Last night was amazing, but I just…” –but he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, because he hadn’t known what he was going to say. He couldn’t tell him. He just couldn’t. “…Yeah.” It really had been amazing. Really, really amazing. It was a memory Kouyou was going to hold onto forever. “I get it.” He added gently, because he understood. Of course this couldn’t happen again. No matter how much the feeling of something sinking to the bottom in his gut wanted it to.Now that he knew he did… he didn’t know how he was going to function around Takanori. Knowing what he felt like, what he tasted like. How on earth was he going to go back to just being friends?Takanori worried his lip, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. “…If it makes anything difficult and awkward, I’ll understand. If you wanted to stop being friends.” Just saying it made Takanori’s throat constrict on itself, making the effort to swallow around it a touch difficult. Kouyou’s short answers were a little worrisome, and he didn’t even know if it was okay to touch him after everything, didn’t know what was fine and what wasn’t anymore. It would hurt a hell of a lot if Kouyou left, but he could live with it. It wouldn’t be anything he hasn’t picked himself up from before, after all, but this was different. The circumstances were so much more… complicated. “No,” Kouyou immediately argued, reaching for Takanori when Takanori started to retract his hand and carefully grabbed for his arm before thinking better of it and letting go. Touching wasn’t a good idea. They were both still naked and sticky and curled in just a little too close, even with how spacious the bed wazs. It was dangerous. If he said the wrong thing here, it would fuck him over. “God, no. I don’t want to stop being friends with you because we had amazing sex. That’s crazy.” He insisted, shaking his head and immediately regretting it. “I’m just– fuck, Taka. I’m so hung over. I think I’m dying.” He admitted, even if he knew that wasn’t really all of it. It was enough. He could shove down the rest, the ache in his chest, the want, the longing. The urge to curl back up around him, to tell him to remove the ring from around his finger and stay here, with him. And for what? He was a sex worker riding the line of an addict. Kouyou wasn’t a good boyfriend, an alright friend.He was a great one time, mad-at-your-husband-fuck. That was all he was good for. The last thing he needed was for Takanori to realize that.But he was rewarded a bubble of soft laughter when he just didn’t have the right words to say, and Kouyou relaxed under the blanket of Takanori’s warmth that draped over him as the back of Takanori’s hand brushed against his between them. “That makes the two of us.” Takanori quietly murmured with an amused smile, and Kouyou returned it with his very own.Once they stepped out of this room, it would be the end. They wouldn’t speak of it and never mention it to each other again. It was the best option for them both. Nothing could become anything more by default, so there was no need for him nor Kouyou to think otherwise. Not that Takanori thought he would, mind. He wasn’t that foolish to believe that Kouyou would want anything more, even if the circumstances were different. Besides, what else could Kouyou possibly say between the agreement on brunch and a shared bath? I haven’t had sex for fun since my divorce? Nope, too pathetic. You were perfect and your husband doesn’t deserve you? Also, a no. I think I’m in love with you?Hard. Fucking. No.And it probably wasn’t true, anyways. Sex did that, hormones and adrenaline having a track history of making the brain wonky. So what if he’d been feeling this warm ache in his chest long before they slept together? Long ago running from no one that chased them with laughter on their lips and snowflakes in their lungs; first love epiphanies under streetlights and missing heartbeats with a whispered goodnight tucked into the softest kiss he’d ever experienced outside of Takanori’s home doorstep after walking him home. That wasn’t for someone like him. Not anymore. He’d been foolish to think he could have it with Yuu; he would be even more of a fool to think he could have it with Takanori.But Kouyou could agree to food and a hot bath, to making Takanori laugh and flush all in the same breath when they mutually observed their collateral damage made last night to compare hickeys and marks and whistle at the scratch marks on Kouyou’s back that stung when he soaked in the hot bath. Perhaps it was because they wouldn’t ever sleep together again that it meant something nice. After all, Takanori certainly wasn’t trying to flatter him because he wanted to have sex again. He was the one who said they couldn’t. If Takanori wanted to, he would. Awful, he knew. But he’d always had a hard time saying no to him.They ate their respective breakfast into a comfortable lull of silence until they stretched out in a relaxed soak. It was exactly what their sore muscles needed. Once they were finished with their bath, Takanori stepped out first to retrieve towels and toss one Kouyou’s way after securing one around his waist and using another to dry his hair. Staying another night wasn’t an option on the table for him to take, despite Kouyou staying to rest. It wasn’t meant to be there in the first place. But if Kouyou had asked him to stay? If Kouyou stopped him in the middle of getting dressed, or further drying his hair, or from trying to find his goddamn panties – he found them on the balcony draped on the railing; Kouyou laughed until his sides hurt – and so much as suggested he stay another night?

He didn’t know. He truly didn’t knowIt never came. Even when he asked Kouyou to fasten his necklace around his neck.

“I’ll text you the moment I get home and my phone’s charged,” Takanori promised as he adjusted his shoe whilst making his way to the door. The damn thing had died in the middle of the night and he’d had to see about taking a taxi back home. He didn’t mind it, though. Kouyou paid for his ride last night, and he wouldn’t let him do it again.“Alright. Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of your ride?” Kouyou asked curiously, shifting off the bed adorned in one of the hotel’s white, fluffy robes to see Takanori off. He’d kept a considerable distance while he looked for his things until he was completely dressed, but now that he was and it was obvious he was leaving he could approach him, walk him to the door at least.

Takanori shook his head and mustered up a small smile as he looked up at Kouyou and paused in the doorway. After this, he was closing the book and he didn’t plan on reopening it. But… he could leave something to seal it closed, couldn’t he? Something that was nice and itching insistently at his gut.

Before he thought too much about it, he reached to rest his hand at the crook of Kouyou’s neck and pushed up to meet the gentle, downward pull he coaxed Kouyou to lower in halfway into hugging him goodbye, and pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, leaving behind a kiss print in its wake when he pulled back slowly. Gentle. Like flowers kept forever, tucked away in an old book.

“Take care, Shima,” He murmured close to his skin, absently stroking his thumb across the nape of his neck.

“I’ll see you soon,” Kouyou promised, resisting the urge to lean into that touch for a moment longer before Takanori let him go and stepped right out. The door swung close with a sound of finality and he stood there for a moment or two longer, just staring at the closed hotel door before passing a frustrated hand through his hair, helpless to the soft tremble that seeped into his deep sigh as he pressed his fingertips gingerly to his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose under the realization that he had almost turned his head to kiss him; almost asked him to stay. Asked him to stay. Not just for tonight, but longer. To make that jog out and stop him from getting into the elevator in nothing but the robe on his back and the hangover clinging to his bones and tell him to stay here, with him. Just him.“Fuck.”He was in love with Takanori. Again. That hadn’t ended well for him when he was eighteen, and it wouldn’t end well for him now.

After all, love wasn’t for people like him.

#Uruki #uruhaxruki #one-shot #I love you B I swear it #you asked for angst and I gave it to you ewjmoikdew #is it bad enough that I have 3 parts for this?#dreizehnn

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Gina Bellman as Sophie Devereaux Leverage Redemption 1x06: The Card Game Job

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Fintech Application Development - 5 Latest Trends Banks Must Pay Attention to Enrich Popularity of Mobile Apps

When you ask a millennial when they have opted for cash payment, they will be clueless. They have turned their attention more towards the online mode of payment or you can say cashless payment or digital banking solution. Do you know why? It is because the latest research has revealed that half of the people belonging to different age-groups are regular users of digital wallets, debit and credit cards.

What’s more, a recent study has suggested that by 2021, cashless payments will surpass cash at all points of sales. What does this indicate? It points towards a marketing world completely dominated by a cashless society. But be at your foot as one more technology has been disrupting the online industry and have brought significant changes in the lives of millennials in recent years. It is- mobile apps. Yeah, that’s true!

As per the experts, the mobile app industry is growing at a faster pace and has forecast that it will generate 935.2 billion US$ by 2023. So, no sign of slowing down in the future also!

Such is the power of mobile apps that it is predicted that digital wallets, as well as credit cards, will become obsolete in the next few years and the whole of the business will be dominated by mobile apps.

These apps have become powerful enough that even banking and other FinTech industries have started to take them seriously and have grabbed this opportunity with their both hands to further enhance their brand value precisely.

Nevertheless, the fruits of digital transformation will not yield good results overnight. It is a complex and time-consuming process that will require "one great idea" to add value to a successful banking solution. And this great idea comes with the incorporation of the latest technological advancements and new inventions into the business fold. That’s it!

The year 2019 was great in terms of tech progress ranging from AI to IoT and is going to remodel the mobile app development in 2020 as well. Besides, the rise of the smartphone has given banking sectors a great prospect to boost the visibility of their financial products and reap benefits from it. Henceforth, it is well said- "Future of Mobile Banking starts from now."

Let’s check out some of the newest technological trends which have the potential to create a well-suited space for

fintech app development

among tech-loving millennials not only in 2020 but also in the future.

Trend #1: Voice Recognition will be the New Norm in Mobile Banking

There has been ongoing excitement with the success of voice assistant technologies such as Alexa and Siri and have created the latest trend which has found new admirer among the banking industry: voice payment. An extension of AI technology, its future looks promising because, at present, more than 18 million US users have opted for voice payment at least once and are likely to increase 4 times in upcoming years.

However, what future holds for voice payment in the FinTech industry? It has great potential as it comes with two-way authentication to secure mobile apps for customers. Not only it eliminates the need for banking staff, it also gives complete control to them in searching for financial services in a well-protected manner via their smartphones.

Various private banking institutions have partnered with Siri/Alexa to allow their customers for bill payments, money transfers with a trusted source, report stolen cards or banking fraudulence and inquire about transactions all using voice only.

The most common use-case of voice banking is checking transaction history, account balance, and other details. Furthermore, the integration of

Fintech application

with Google Assistant has also made a mobile payment more secure and successful for users.

Therefore, considering voice recognition as a revolution for banks (or FinTech) apps is an insult to it, it is much more than that. It is a trend-setting roadmap in the FinTech industry in the year 2020 which works on the concept- ‘banking-on-the-go’ to make online transactions for the customers (especially millennials) safer and easier.

Trend #2: Cardless Transaction (or Withdrawal) is the Future of ATM

There were times when people forget their wallets in a rush and regret their foolishness as they have to stand in a queue at ATM for cash withdrawal, but this is not the case now. It is because the banks have introduced an innovative feature called Cardless ATM which has made the use of wallets outdated.

Although not a new trend, but increased adoption by banks have swelled its popularity to a great extent. It has given a valuable option to the banks for improving their customer services by enabling them to get cash by just using a mobile banking app.

Depending on the bank and which financial provider (like Apple Pay or Google Pay) has collaborated, customers can withdraw money using two ways; app-generated code and near-field communication (NFC). The first method uses the transaction of the QR code displayed on the banking app. The second method called NFC is contactless 'tap & pin' card transaction where the ATM sensor present in the phone is tapped to extract money with no involvement of card.Cardless ATM withdrawal has attracted a large number of customers into the fold of banks because of its high speed and great convenience with the beneficiary no need to have any bank account. Besides, they are known as future of ATM since it makes all transaction encryption-coated to not only make the assets of the customers safe but also reduce cloned card frauds which happen after the ATM card has tampered, a common norm today.

Trend #3: Big Data has come to Rescue Customers by Detecting Frauds with Great Efficacy

The significant growth of revenue among FinTech institutions comes at a high risk of bank fraud. The problem is so severe that it is expected that by 2020, fraud-related issues incurred on debit, credit and pre-paid cards could exceed $12 billion. Thus, fraud detection is the top-most priority in mobile banking when the additional cost of banking frauds such as phishing, identity theft, and account takeover is also taken into consideration.

Henceforth, banking experts have predicted that more banks and other financial institutions are going to leverage big data to detect the fatal flaws which are posing a great threat to mobile banking in upcoming years. With the given technology, banks can get access to the vast pool of information from customers' data through resources such as purchasing history of customers to evaluate their common pattern and develop a holistic view of each customer and thus detect irregularities associated with it.Big data is the newest form of fraud analytic technique that successfully identifies the hidden pattern of customers, integrates data from multiple resources into a model and thus avoids the customers to fall into the trap created by online intruders.

Trend #4: Blockchain Technology is Ready to Capture the Imagination of Mobile Banking Lovers

Blockchain, initially known as "public ledger", is a powerful technology that uses virtual currencies for daily transactions and has a database that is cryptographically secured. It has great potential to solve various problems associated with financial institutions and that’s the reason why 9 out of 10 FinTech sectors are showing interest in this technology.

According to research, the global blockchain market for the bank and financial industry is projected to worth US$ 4.65 billion in 2022. Banks are keen to implement this technology to reduce transaction and processing cost and thus saves billions in cash.

Let’s look at how blockchain technology is going to be a craze for a robust

FinTech app development

due to the following reasons:

I. Fraud ReductionsMost banking systems are built on a centralized database which has made them more prone to a cyberattack with 45% of the financial intermediaries such as money transfer and stock exchange services are the worst sufferers. With blockchain at the helm, FinTech institutions will get rid of cyber-attackers to get full access to their systems and steal key information.

II. Cross-Border TransactionsIn the last decade, there has been significant improvement in direct money transfers and interbank settlements, still there remain some gaps due to lack of global standards. Adopting blockchain technology will not only help in creating a competitive marketplace but also slash the remittance rate from 5-20% to 2-3% to the delight of banks involved in foreign exchange and fund transfer services in multiple currencies.

III. Improving Know your Customer (KYC) ServicesA survey has stated that an estimated $60 million to $500 million per year is spent by financial institutions on keeping KYC update to reduce money laundering and terrorist activities albeit at a high cost. With blockchain, verification details of clients can be accessed by other organizations and avoid repetition of the KYC process and thus reduced administrative costs.

IV. Trade FinanceThe financial institutions can completely transform their work by embracing blockchain technology. It is because it can equip banks with a real-time documentation review with automated payments to reduce duplication of bills and provide transparency via smart contracts and thus transmit a smooth operation for the customers.

V. PaymentsA highly transformative process, this technology will permit banks with higher security features with lower costs and also help them to get rid of intermediaries from the payment processing system.Thus, the year 2020 is going to be great for the banking industry due to the resounding impact posed to them from blockchain technology significantly.

Trend #5: Great Expansion of Mobile Banking Services via Open Banking

In the future, the growth of banking and other FinTech institutions will depend on how well they share user data with 3rd party providers using open application programming interfaces (API). If they leverage the given concept for their benefit, they can build a single platform from where the customers can access a network of financial services successfully.One question arises- “How it works in real life?” It can be explained by the fact that each person has multiple banking accounts. Consider one bank offering personal loans at low interest, others offering appealing saving schemes, and another proves free debit cards. Open banks create a centralized hub where the customers get a single dashboard to manage all services simultaneously without log-in into each bank’s account.In 2020, it will be the main tool for financial transactions for managing multiple payment methods and providing a more transparent view of finance in the most effective manner.

Wrapping UpPreviously, the banking industry was notorious for fiercely resisting changes in their working. But time has changed and with the arrival of mobile banking, innovations are constantly unfolding the banking sector. Various technologies have arrived on the scene which has acted as a bridge in maintaining cordial relationships with banks and customers.

To remain successful, FinTech industries are creating a good space for mobile banking apps to have great appeal to the millennials. In 2020, if these trends are keenly followed by banking institutes; consumers can assure themselves with personalized and effortless end-to-end banking experience at their doorstep.

Originally published at - https://bit.ly/39Cd3iW

#fintech app development #Fintech application development #fintech app development companies

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