the devil wears tom ford :: t.s. x reader

i

"You're all fucking terrible people!"

There was no telling them that they were wrong. Hell, even if someone else wanted to, it wasn't like they'd listen. There was no chance for anyone to make their case, as a "red flag" dashed out the door. They needed answers, and they needed them now.

3 Months Ago

No one knew true fear like Casey Wellomes, especially Casey Wellomes approximately 5 minutes late to class. On any other day, they would be moderately peeved at themselves for being late, but today - the day that a very special guest would be attending - a guest that literally no one, not even the teacher knew who it was - it meant that surely, these minutes would be holding the opportunity of a lifetime. To think one(who was usually quite early) might be missing out, was worth nothing short of a panic attack.

They'd been thankful they pre-packed and planned their day the night before, from which blouse to wear down to how overzealous their sock pattern should be. With their well-worn trench coat and oxfords, there wasn't much distinguishing Casey from half the academics. Besides, of course, the unkempt short hair and brightly painted nails. It was the details, Casey's mom had told them, that made the person.

So. Fucking.. Close... Pretty much imitating a cartoon character as they braked themselves outside the lab door, Casey gathered themselves as best they could, before pushing the door open and subsequently feeling their heart stop in their chest.

Tony Stark, the Tony Stark, stood at the front of the lab, several new gadgets standing at either side. They could've easily eaten up the school's entire budget. But they really, really didn't care about the robots, chirping and clicking as the teacher closely examined one. Casey was only looking at Tony.

Tony. Should Casey call him Tony, even if it was just in their mind? It felt almost too casual. Every other benefactor of the university had always addressed the students with such quips as "Please, call me Mr." with last names that sounded worth their weight in gold. With that, their names always sounded heavy and overbearing, much like the donors themselves. But with Stark -- Tony -- whatever worked best -- it was light and feathery. Yet still an edge of rasp.

"Tony."

There was minimal time between them saying his name, recognizing what exactly they were saying, who they were saying it in front of, and Mr. Stark turning his head to set his eyes upon Casey before they could react. When their eyes met, Casey swore it felt like they had an arc reactor in their own chest, sparking to life with unbridled enthusiasm. They wondered, if only for a mere moment, if it was the same for Tony.

Then, it seemed, that encapsulated moment concluded. Time returned to its normal pace.

"That's my name. That...is my name, right?" The response elicited a chuckle from their classmates, some of whom seemed shocked at the fact that someone as lowly as a university student would decide to utter his name, as if it were a sacred phrase.

Although Casey silently took a seat at their designated station, keeping their head down, there was a burning feeling at their cheeks. Not of shame, or disappointment, but rather something else. There was the feeling of being watched, too -- whether by straggling students or whomever else felt the need to look at them. It was mere moments after settling in and trying to push down those sparks within that the teacher spoke up again.

"Well students, if you've remembered - you've all brought in your works from the previous months. I hope in the presence of such a pioneer in the industry, and for that matter, world peace, you'd remember to bring something worthwhile." Just like that, Casey's stomach promptly knotted. Shit.

They were no slacker - they'd definitely done...something. But there were 2 problems.

What they'd been working on was nothing short of mediocre - it would barely get them a B, if that, at the pace they'd been working on it.

They'd managed to leave that mediocre albeit functioning piece of... "Technology" at their dorm.

That little moment with Stark, if one could call it a moment, was useless if Casey had nothing to show for. A sheepish pout could only get them so far, especially in front of a billionaire. It wasn't like he was going to scoop them out of student debt - even if they had brought their meager little invention. It was one of those moments where a normally frustrating slapdash of events was turning into a tornado of mortifying emotions.

There was no way in hell Casey was going to stand in front of Stark and tell him..what? "My dog ate my homework?" As they dashed out the door and headed down to the washroom, anticipating the ache their legs would endure after being curled up in the washroom for an hour, telling themselves over and over that it would be one of the many forgotten memories of yesterday.

But even as Casey tried to push away the last 15 minutes, they couldn't shake Tony's gaze. It was like a detail that, no matter what, was destined to imprint itself on whomever was so (un)lucky to receive it. The thought of what may just have gone on behind those eyes made Casey's head spin. The thought that Tony Stark knew of Casey's existence, if even for a mere second, and may have even pondered them, both delighted and terrified them. It was a lot to handle, but a quiet cry in the washroom would probably fix everything.

This time, Casey was true to their word. Hunkered down in the washroom, they let out a stifled cry, letting themselves wonder for minutes at a time, like a blurt of pure emotion, wonder. Wonder why today, of all days, everything had to fuck up so microscopically.

So microscopically, and yet, despite the teeny-tiny failures, make Casey feel so hilariously insignificant. It was pretty much laughable, their train of thought.

"Fuck..." One of the first words Casey muttered, wiping away the tears and picking up their discarded coat, remembering that yes, the bell had rung a minute ago. The coast was clear. This whole panic, hide, cry routine was fail-safe of theirs, although they had been using it a bit more as of late. Once again, with slightly more effort, Casey attempted to look put-together, although the mirrors were not quite as helpful as anticipated. Despite the setbacks, they managed to look fairly stable, but no amount of rubbing, smearing, or prodding would take away the redness around their eyes. It wasn't like a horde of paparazzi were going to be watching their every move outside the washroom, though.

(Casey will admit, after the fact, sometimes that seemed preferable.)

Still keeping their head down, still wary of their appearance, Casey had no time to peel themself out of Tony Stark's path, and the two collided. There was no other way of putting it. Collision, point blank. There was pain, not necessarily blistering, but certainly there pain - and then a crack - and then, for the longest time, a cool burst of blue light.

Light consumed. A calming essence, without warmth but also not without care - whatever that means, ensnared both of them. Time passed in a blur, but Casey felt their back hit the wall, albeit much more gently. This time, they managed to make the right assumptions in a quick and compact fashion. The shattered globe, barely the size of their palm, wisps of blue light fading out from within. Several of those blue wisps were curled around Tony's right knuckles, as several cuts and lashes mended on (what would have seemed to the far-away eye like) on their own, flesh closing over.

In a slow, elegant motion, Tony brought the hand up to examine it, the blue quickly fading away, much like his injuries. Casey was close enough now to know what what they saw in Tony's eyes was total awe. A type of shock that people would usually pay to see.

He opened his mouth to speak, before closing and putting on his glasses, seemingly composing himself, and staring down at Casey, who was in a similar state of shock. "It fucking worked."

---

Author's Note

Clarification - the MC, Casey, does use they/them pronouns. I also use they/them pronouns, and i wanted to see a bit of queer rep on here. Sue me.

I'm writing this kinda in conjunction with NaNoWriMo? I doubt i'll hit 50k, although i'd like to do a chapter a day. Or maybe every 3 days, so the chapters are longer. We'll see. Thanks for reading!

Zee