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lesbianecrivain · 4 years

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Retourne-toi!

Summary: Denise decides to travel, hoping to take her mind off everything, only to end up doing more work as she makes the mistake of admiring a castle that has remained hidden from humanity for years.

AO3 link HERE!

(I’ll be posting all of the chapters on AO3. If you liked this, check that out more often because updates would be there. This is not too related with the game. F/F pairing)

Warning for a little bit of violence when OC remembers her childhood. Also, should I continue this? Reviews and kudos are highly appreciated!! 💕

Now, let us simp for the tall vampire~

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Chapter 1: Wandering Traveller

The wars never stopped. Up until today, humans still fight amongst themselves for silly reasons instead of working together to be united. Anyone would want to take a break from all these wars. Especially someone who had done everything they could to, at least, lessen or slow the effects of these unending wars. So, that is what Denise Rodriguez is going to do. She took a break from everything, flew back to her country hoping to feel snow again. She really loves the snow despite having low tolerance for cold. If lucky, there might be children on the street who would be willing to play snowball fight with her. A smile broke the straight line on her lips at the thought, heart warming at the images of children smiling as they throw the snowballs at each other. She couldn't wait to reach their destination, she made sure that the place is snowing this time of the year. Having been born from the tropical side of the planet, snow can quite be something desirable for someone like Denise. Something spectacular and worthy of attention and praises.

Here Denise was, sitting by the window seat and staring at the bright cloudy yet calm view outside, a small smile playing on her lips as the plane continued heading towards its destination. Only a few more hours until they reach Europe. Her heart bloomed at the thought of returning to a land that it acknowledged as home more than her land of origin.

When Denise opened her eyes, the sun was not shining anymore. A grin crept up to her face. The person beside Denise stared at her weirdly before going off with their own life. Denise couldn't care less though, she is finally back and she would never allow a mere stranger to ruin her vacation here. She will be staying here for some time, taking the opportunity to stay here for as long as she'd like to. Perks of dual citizenship. She badly needs a break from handling a lot of environmental issues and having to provide for hundreds of students, she almost forgot about her corporation. Yes, when she says she needs a break, she needs a damn break. From everything, especially her other country that has been a shit show ever since she became aware—this having started when she reached twelve years of age, and she is in her early 30's now. It has been a long time yet within the years she lived in her country, not even a single road in her street has been fixed.

"Alright," She muttered, bracing herself while her hand gripped her baggage tightly. "Romania, here I come!"

Denise went straight to her house and after organizing the stuff she brought, she glanced at her phone. There laid on her bright screen, 19:34 in black as her eyes wandered to the other time zones as well. The way to her house was splendid, she can't help but to marvel at the various infrastructures that passed as she rode the taxi despite seeing them for the nth time. She has observed how great the difference is between this foreign land and her own, and then she was again further disappointed with her own land. Enough of that, she is here to free herself of worry, Denise reminds herself, eyes quickly ridding of all the gloom and anger as they caught sight of the marble structure that she has been longing for ever since she departed from this land two years ago. She has always been a regular here the moment she found out about this place, around seven years ago. They just served the best pizzas Denise has ever known to exist, though that could change when she further travels across Europe in the future.

"Miss Rodriguez!"

Denise smiled at the chipper servant and greeted them back just as gleeful. She is glad to know that they are the same servant from two years ago. Even the other staff smiled at their guest, knowing how prominent she is in this place, seeing that she is a regular customer here and actually treated them properly than how other customers would, disregarding them as if they were lower than them.

"Denise!"

Her head turned toward the all-too-familiar light voice, almost squeaking, as soon as their eyes caught sight of Denise. A wide grin set itself comfortably on her lips, turning around to open her arms, preparing to envelop whoever had greeted her.

"Sophie!" Denise was too slow to react as the other woman practically threw herself in her arms. "Looks like someone had missed me," she chuckled, patting Sophie on her small back.

"You damn bet I do," Sophie pulled away but the smile on her lips was relentless. "I told them all to prepare your favorites as soon as you informed me that you will be coming here, and it seems like I am not the only one who missed you,"

Confusion was briefly on Denise's face then her eyes darted behind Sophie. There she saw people carrying a tray, enough to feed all the people inside, with smiles plastered on their faces. Denise knew herself that she couldn't finish it all by herself. Sophie seemed to close the restaurant earlier because the only people here are the staff, herself, and Denise, their guest. Warmth spread through the small woman like a drop of milk spreading lightness to a black coffee.

"Y'all," Denise shook her head in disbelief. "C'mere, let's eat. I cannot finish these all by myself!"

The place was filled with laughter, the faint glow of gold surrounding the place and adding to the calming and light atmosphere. They all took a seat on the long table with Denise on the head and Sophie on her side while the staff sat along by them. They all looked genuinely happy, as if this was the only time they could take a break from all the stress the day has brought upon. The wide grins, sounds of soft laughter filling the room, and the gleam in each of their eyes were enough to take Denise's worries away, even for the briefest moment.

"Y'all didn't have to do this," She told them, shaking her head.

"But we wanted to!" chorused most of the staff while some just kept smiling at her. Sophie then raised a brow in her direction. "Save your irrational guilt, sunshine," she told the small woman who seemed to be rethinking her decision of informing her of her coming. "We missed you and here is our way of showing you. So, shut up and eat, young lady, we've got so much to catch up on."

"Alright, Soph," Denise sighed in defeat yet the grin never left her face. "Y'all dig in too! I'm tipping all of you extra because y'all look extremely happy right now," and that warms my heart, Denise wanted to add but didn't want to sound cheesy or seem like a softie as she wasn't either of those.

Sophie hummed her disagreement. "Ugh ugh, this one's on the house! You keep eat—"

"No." interrupted Denise with a frown. "The least I can do is to pay and leave a huge amount of tip for you all individually, and no Sophie, this is not up for a debate."

Denise was determined and Sophie knew that there is no way she can convince the raven-haired woman when she is determined. She shook her head and released a sigh. "Fine, you are lucky you're handsome."

Denise was thankful for her brown complexion that a blush didn't appear on her cheeks at the sudden compliment. She wouldn't want to be blushing in front of anyone. She coughed, "So, how's everything with you?" She said, clearly dismissing the compliment and hoping that her friend wouldn't push it.

"Eh, nothing eventful while you were gone. Same old same.." Sophie shrugged, mind wandering to the events in her life in the past two years that Denise was gone. "How about you, busy bee? I've seen you on some article while I was surfing the net last night.." She grinned then teased the smaller woman, nudging her softly with her elbow, "You're really doing something big out there! Planning to contribute positively to the world along with a bunch of other stuff!"

At this, Denise's hand crept to the back of her head where her palm was able to feel her shaved head, all while she huffed as she smiled. Maybe it was the time where she joined in one of the protests against the passing of a ridiculous nonsensical bill. "I'm not doing 'something big', you silly," She rolled her eyes at the exaggeration. She doesn't want anyone thinking that what she is doing is grand, especially with all her wealth. "I'm just doing my responsibility as an inhabitant of this world.." She shrugged, and in her defense, she really was although Sophie has told her a lot of times that she is being a hero by doing so. But, Denise had quickly countered that what she does is not a heroic act but her moral obligation as a human. It would be natural to want to help in any way you can, at least that is how Denise thinks, which further amazes Sophie.

"Well, whatever you say," Sophie took a sip from her glass. "How long do you plan to stay? And tell me all the places you'd go to!! Maybe I can tag along if you want to or if I've got the time..."

"I think I'm gonna stay for a while and go to the old times.." Denise explained when confusion crossed Sophie's expression. "I plan on visiting this ancient village. I heard that the sceneries there are spectacular.. I'm going for this old-y vibes for my book that I'm currently writing.. and I plan to take pictures as well." Then she showed Sophie her phone which displayed the village she is referring to. The other woman nodded approvingly at her choice as she kept scrolling through the pictures.

"Well, what exactly are you looking for?"

Denise shrugged as she put her phone back to her pocket. "Nothing really specific.. If I go there and feel it, I would immediately take a picture. I hope to find an abandoned infrastructure or if I'm lucky enough, maybe a castle?"

Sophie grinned at her. "Look at you being all things at once," elbow nudged Denise again, urging her to shake her head. "I really wonder how the hell you're able to do all your responsibilities at once!"

Denise rolled her eyes. "That is why I'm taking a break, silly."

A chuckle bubbled its way out of her throat. Laughter filled the room along with the small conversations among the staff and themselves. Having this unfold in front of her prompted another smile on Denise's lips as one word screamed loud in her mind;

Home.

—————

Denise would have already started her travel, or adventure as she likes to call it, the day after she met with Sophie; however, works keep holding her back and as a result, she has been occupied by them for a whole week, unable to do anything exciting and relaxing other than to play her musical instruments or catch up on series. Why couldn't she just bring her stuff along with her so she could work when she reaches wherever she wants to go? Denise isn't certain if the area she plans to go to has internet or even supply of electricity. Either way, she finally has finished all her follow-up tasks, releasing a sigh—whether it be from relief, exhaustion, or both—as her palm pushed down the screen of her laptop.

"Fucking finally," She sighs again, leaning back on her office chair. She rubs her eyes before closing them. The silence in her home provided a calming effect after her long day of work. Imagine coming here to relax only to be haunted by those damned works. The city was calm. The loud sirens fading from a distance, honking of the car horns, and sometimes a loud chatter would bloom from a small crowd, created a soft cadence lulling Denise to sleep on her position that she would surely regret next morning. But, whatever worry she may have for tomorrow was left unthought of as the night progressed with much ease she hasn't had for quite a while.

The same calm she has been seeking for.

The following morning, the dull ache on her back was quicker than her eyes to open and be aware of their surroundings. "Dammit," grumbled Denise with her voice hoarse. She slowly stood up, still groggy from waking from such a deep slumber that she hasn't had for a while. Her hand immediately reached to rub her back, seeking for relief albeit brief, before she proceeded to go to the bathroom to clean herself. After doing her morning routine—cleaning herself, exercising then eating breakfast, Denise started prepping for her long journey. She had informed Sophie that she will be gone for quite a while and that her brunette friend may occupy her house during her leave, to which the restaurant owner quickly agreed to—saving both of them time and money.

Denise felt like a scout because of all the things she is going to bring with her. She nearly brought her house with her. Better ready than not, she thinks to herself as she packed her razor that she uses to keep her head shaved. Along with that are the various tools she deemed necessary (she brought her toolbox), and some weapons that are easy to hide and bring, for precaution. She also packed a lot of foods and clothings, and of course, money. After packing all of those stuff, she went to put her portable generator on the back of her van, just in case.

When she is satisfied with everything, Denise ceased her movements before sitting on her couch, a sigh escaping past her lips before she could even think of it. She took a deep breath and then closed her eyes, letting the silence envelop her in its tranquilizing arms. The comfort se found in silence started reminding her a moment from her childhood. Something she didn't want to remember. It was midnight back then and she jolted up from her bed because of the tingling sensation in her abdomen. Realizing this, she stood up and went downstairs, only to halt on her way as she heard a whimper below— on the living room where her parents sleep. The lights were off but the soft glow emanating from the television was enough to show her father strangling her mother. At that very moment, Denise completely forgot about her bladder's needs and went straight back to the bedroom she shared with her siblings as silent as she could. The confusion, fear, anger, disappointment, and sadness that she felt that night were too overwhelming. Since then, she promised to herself that she would never marry or have children if she would only act like her father.

"I am so ready!!" Denise practically bounced as she moved, hopping like a bunny on a meadow, as she stepped into her huge van. She decided to bring some of her musical instruments and some of her books to have something to keep herself entertained. Sophie stood by her doorway, waving and smiling at her as she drove away and into the unknown.

Denise had promised that she would take a lot of pictures so that when she shows them to her, Sophie would feel as if she were with her all along her journey. She hasn't reached her destination yet, however, the tall trees she kept passing by as she was hours into her drive were always able to amaze and put a smile on her face. Nature has always been enough to make all her worries drift away, one of the reasons why she does all her best to take care of it. She is a devoted environmentalist, writing articles about the issues regarding nature in her free time while also using her resources for further development of restoration of deforested lands. It may seem like a big work, just like what Sophie insists because it truly is, but for Denise herself it isn't. She loves what she is doing, she wouldn't feel the exhaustion if she weren't mortal. Unfortunately, she must take breaks every now and then for her to be able to continue doing her passion.

After two days of driving and taking breaks to get some sleep, Denise finally arrived at the said village. She immediately felt the atmosphere she needs for the inspiration of both her book and its cover. The village itself wasn't grand, quite the opposite. The way of living here seemed to be simple almost as if the people here are still living in the olden days, and she thought it is possible that they still are. She parked her van near the entrance of the village. The village was small so she didn't bother bringing her van inside, for it would be easier to leave it outside of the village. She greeted the people who met her eyes with a small smile, hoping that they are not hostile to tourists. Thankfully, she felt welcomed enough although some just glanced at her and didn't really pay her any attention but at least no one scowled at her. She doesn't plan on staying here for too long. In fact, after she bought some supplies and asked for the elder for permission to take pictures and after taking pictures, she was already bidding her goodbye and gratitude to the elder before she hopped back to her van.

Something in the north caught her eye as she scrolled through the pictures she's taken, which pulled her gaze away from her camera. The sun was still up, there's still time for her to travel further and find a place to park her van safely— she doesn't need to spend night in a hotel or motel since her van is big enough to host, but she still needs a place to stay for her security. Denise carefully placed her camera back to its place, securing it, then proceeded to drive further up north. What caught her eyes is the enormous structure that seems like a mountain covered in snow on top, a perfect scenery to add to her choices. But as she neared the said mountain, another caught her sight. This time, she also completely forgot what it is that she went for as she was utterly amazed by the sight in front of her eyes.

Her mind couldn't think of anything except;

Perfection.

A castle. It hadn't been in the map nor did the elder of the village informed her of this. It wasn't even on Google when she searched for this area. She thought that maybe this beauty was meant to remain hidden from the outside world. The reason behind for this possibility? She couldn't care. All she could give a damn about is that she finally found what she is hoping to see. So, she did what any people would do. She took her bag and her camera before stepping out of her van—making sure to bring the keys with her, after she parked it in front of the gates.

"Woah," Denise couldn't help but gape at the infrastructure.

Jackpot, she internally celebrates.

The structure seemed to be a mixture of both Gothic and Romanesque style, with its round walls yet pointed arches and stained glasses. Overall, the castle was impressive. Its walls were enough to tell about its age, which to Denise's opinion, this castle might have been built around 18th century. She went to the gate, searching for any doorbell or anything that would notify the inhabitants of the castle—if there were—of its visitors, only to find none. But, luckily, she found out that the gate is left unlocked. Maybe, the castle is abandoned? Denise thinks then smiles as she proceeds further outside the castle grounds. The gate squeaked as Denise pushed it slightly just enough for her figure to fit perfectly.

Denise walked around as if she were strolling around the zoo for the first time, gaping at the size and the details of the castle. The castle emanated a vibe she can't quite put her finger on. She wasn't sure what it was but she felt calm and relaxed. This is perfect for my book, she thinks as she turned around once more to gape at the place. She felt like a person entering an aquarium for the first time, amazed by all the aquatic creatures.

When she was in the middle of the property, not inside the castle yet since the outside was a wide space that would have been green if it weren't winter, Denise finally pulled her camera to her chest. Hesitation kept holding her back. She doesn't want to take pictures without the owner's or at least the caretaker's permission, but whom would she ask if there seemed to be no one to ask for permission? Denise felt as if she just invaded the property despite not going fully inside the castle. She felt horrible, knowing that she must desert the place because she doesn't have the permission to be here, yet the curiosity and wonder in her became stronger than the guilt she felt creeping in her earlier. And soon enough, the latter completely overthrew any hesitation she had.

"Just one picture," Denise promised to no one in particular, trying to drown the voice in her head that screams at her to just walk away. "Let me take just one picture of this masterpiece, then I will leave." Her eyes closed in concentration as she did her best to drown any guilt creeping in her. Obviously, she didn't listen to the rational part of herself as she went to crouch and angled her camera where it covers mostly the upper part of the castle together with the plain sky and the snow falling.

It was perfect, the shot she took was splendid. Denise smiled to herself as she dusted herself off while getting up. A smile graced her face before she could even process it. She took another look at the single picture she took, after all she promised that she would only take one picture then she will go away, and that is what she is about to do if it weren't for the picture she took. The curve on her lips was immediately set straight.

Something caught her eyes the longer she stared at the picture. There. In one of the castle windows, there stood something—someone, she wasn't sure which, but it seemed to be a figure dressed in white and smiling down at her? Denise shook her head, closed her eyes then took a deep breath before looking at the picture again, squinting her eyes at it. It was still there, the...she wasn't sure what name to put to it... The creature? Either way, it doesn't seem like this castle is abandoned at all. She took one last glance at the part of the castle where she also caught the figure. There was no one there. Not the dress, not the smile, not the figure, nothing. Only darkness. Weird. Maybe it had been one of her imaginations? But she looked at the picture and the same figure was smiling at her. It couldn't be her mind's doings. Maybe the castle wasn't abandoned at all, and maybe she could ask for permission? All while Denise thinks what she could do to be more polite to whoever is living inside the wondrous castle, standing dumbly in the middle of nowhere, another thought occurred to her. This one she didn't like;

What if they're not human?

#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x original character #lesbians #useless lesbians #lady dimitrescu is a little soft here #slow burn #original character #resident evil village #my writing #gay #aint we all gay for Lady Dimitrescu

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jelly-pies · 4 years

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Places and Embraces (that you thought you left behind)

By @jelly-pies for @jaybaybay-01, for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: Teen (mentions of torture, electrocution, near drowning)

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter & Tony & Avengers Team

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, James Rhodes, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Pepper Potts

Summary:

"So now we know what we’re up against: a Hydra cell just launched a cyber attack on the Avengers,” Tony said, slowly drawing out each bitter word. He took a deep breath. “And they used Peter Parker to do it.”

Hydra brainwashes Peter and turns him against the Avengers. Tony jumps out of semi-retirement to get his kid back.

Word count: 12.2k (read on AO3 or click below!)

----- Chapter 1: The Compound -----

It was supposed to be a simple patrol.

“I just sent the address to Karen. Track their activity. Eyes open. Update me or Sam the second things get fishy…”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter’s voice groaned through the speakers, “I think I know what ‘reconnaissance’ means.”

“Might as well spell it out for you, because sometimes I think you don’t know what ‘stay back and wait for backup’ means.”

Peter huffed, and Tony imagined the twenty-year-old rolling his eyes in accompaniment. “That was one time,” he complained. “I mean, two." Another pause. “Wait. I mean…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony pressed a button to bring Peter’s view up on his computer. The kid was swinging through the city, crisscrossing between buildings at breakneck speed. Tony swept the footage to the side of his holo-screens before all the movement made his head spin. Damn, he was getting old.

“Hey, you wanna hear a thought I just had?” Peter said, swinging up and landing on an empty rooftop. “Iron Man’s retired, right? And Spider-Man’s official Avenger-Guardian of New York City.”

“Not a thing.”

“Totally a thing. So—listen, Mr. Stark—in the Avengers, do I rank higher than you now? ” Peter teased.

Tony rolled his eyes. “First off, I’m voluntarily relegated to tech support, I’m not retired.”

“You make a pretty decent Guy in the Chair, by the way. I mean, I still prefer Ned, but with summer break and all…”

“And second,” Tony interrupted, “Peter, this is serious. This is Hydra. I don’t want to hear about some solo-act hero found dead in the news tonight, you hear me?”

Peter chuckled softly. “You’re always gonna worry about me.”

Tony didn’t answer. But he caught his onscreen notification that Karen’s secondary tracker, connecting directly to the Avengers Compound, had been turned on. So the kid was taking precautions; Tony took that as a win.

“What we discussed,” Tony said softly. “Keep your distance. Web ‘em up.”

“Callback! That was a callback.” Finishing whatever tweaks he’d apparently made to the suit’s settings, Peter leapt off the building and continued swinging. “Talk to you later, old man.”

Tony smiled fondly. “Later, disaster child.”

He kept FRIDAY running the screens, ready to alert him to any trouble, but everything seemed normal on Peter’s patrol. And why wouldn’t it? It was supposed to be normal.

In a few minutes Morgan was banging on the garage door, calling her father for dinner. Tony left for the night.

It was hours later when Pepper shook him awake. Wide-eyed, with a deceptively calm voice, she relayed the emergency alert from FRIDAY. But by then it was too late.

It was supposed to be a quiet night. Instead, Peter Parker was missing.

-----

“Hydra,” May repeated in a hollow voice. “Hydra?”

“They had a suspected cell in NYC—sketchy, black market type medical lab.” Tony removed his sunglasses as he sank into May’s couch. His joints ached from the fatigue of the last few hours; the sunlight from the windows assaulted his baggy eyes. “It was supposed to be a routine check,” he exhaled, the same words he had been telling himself over and over and over. “Peter was just… keeping an eye out, waiting to confirm illegal activity.”

“Well, you got your confirmation.”

Tony looked up at that, an apology ready on his lips, but when he met May’s eyes they only looked sad.

“Is he—did they—Tony, do you think Peter’s—”

“No,” he replied strongly. “That’s one thing I can say for sure.” It’s the only thing he could say for sure. “They wouldn’t take the trouble, disabling his suit so expertly, if they were just going to…” He let the rest trail off unspoken. May dropped beside him on the couch.

Tony grit his teeth, pinched his eyes shut. He’d been up all night, and his chest ached even more than his head did. “Callback! That was a callback,” Peter’s blithe voice from yesterday echoed in his ears. This was another one, Tony supposed. A callback to Titan… to Beck… to, well, a couple more times after that, to be honest. The supposedly quiet semi-retirement years weren’t so quiet with another superhero in the family.

“So, we just… search,” May whispered beside him, the same pain, the same haunting memories evident on her frown lines. “And wait?”

Tony felt the full weight of his years pressing down on him, pushing as he fought to lift his head, and he gave a simple, helpless nod.

-----

It was supposedly a standard security update.

That’s what Tony told the guards, and anyone else with dropped jaws and shining eyes who wondered what Tony Stark, retired hero, was doing at the Avengers Compound on an ordinary Thursday. He indulged the gaping staff members with a signature Tony Stark grin as he made his way into the main building. But his tinted sunglasses stayed on his face the whole time.

“Alright, show me,” he greeted Sam shortly when he reached the entrance to the main control room. Sam nodded silently and led him inside.

The control room was the heart of Compound security; as spacious as the lab, only with more computers and holo-displays over the walls. With such an important building to protect, it was usually bustling with activity, but now there were only three people sitting around the main panel in the center of the room. All three—Bruce, Barnes, and Rhodey—were peering into holo-screens, surveying the damage from last night’s cyber attack.

Because the Compound had been attacked.

It was a quiet affair; the culprit had been in and out of the control room in a matter of minutes. They had dealt considerable damage—taken down servers, stolen terabytes of the Avengers’ encrypted files—but in terms of casualties, not a single guard had even been knocked out.

Like a ghost, Sam had told Tony that morning. A ghost who knew his way around the Compound. Who had the skills to hack into their system. Who was able to disable the Compound’s AI before it could sound the alarm.

A ghost who could crawl on walls.

Not a lot of people fit that description. And so Tony came, looked over the details of the attack, watched the security footage that Bruce brought up on his screen—the man in a black stealth suit, sticking up on a wall to avoid a roving guard. FRIDAY analyzed the footage too, but Tony didn’t need her verification that the masked attacker’s physique matched the known measurements of one Peter Parker. None of them really did.

“Shit,” was all Tony could mutter under his breath as the video ended. “Shit.”

“That’s all we caught; others cameras were disabled,” Bruce said. “As far as we know there was only one perpetrator. Don’t know where he headed after exiting the building, or his intentions with that data. But as to who that perpetrator was… Tony, I’m sorry. All the clues point in the same direction.”

Tony clenched his jaw. Of all the possible outcomes to his weeks-long search, all the scenarios both his dreams and his nightmares presented—he would have preferred almost anything but this. Anything but that dark figure that could only be one person, stealing around the very corridors Tony had just passed minutes ago. Anything but Peter Parker, so lost, and yet caught on camera so close to home: insult to injury waved right in their faces.

It was supposed to be a straightforward operation. Search for his kid, raid all the hideouts, wait for a ransom note as a very last resort. Instead, things had just turned much, much more complicated.

“Tones… at least he’s alive,” Rhodey said softly, when Tony remained silent.

“How?” Tony said through gritted teeth. “It’s barely been three weeks. How?”

Rhodey frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, look at him!” Tony waved at the screens where the security footage was still displayed. “Moves quickly, not under duress, they didn’t force him to do this. If they did, he would have done something, I know him, he—he would have left us some sort of clue.”

“And he came alone,” Rhodey said in realization. “They wouldn’t have sent him in alone.”

Tony nodded. “So how?”

As the meaning of Tony’s question sank in, everyone slowly turned to the one person in the room who had so far remained quiet.

“How?” Tony repeated to Bucky Barnes, his voice cracking at the single syllable.

The supersoldier met his gaze evenly. “There are ways. It's been less than a month, but… it’s possible.” Barnes shifted his feet and clenched the arms of his chair—not from any discomfort with him, Tony knew; he and Barnes had laboriously buried that hatchet years ago. But Bucky had always taken on a haunted demeanor lately whenever Peter was mentioned. The kid Wilson and Barnes had grown to train, to work with on missions, now captured by the very organization where the Winter Soldier had spent the majority of his life.

“There is some good news,” Bucky added after a pause. “The more they rushed the… process… the easier it will be to undo. If it’s really mind control… a good shock to his system, a strong reminder… there's hope, Tony. But the hard part is finding him.”

“Then let’s find him,” Sam declared simply, crossing his arms, and the room took a collective breath as if at a rallying cry. “At least this attack gives us a new lead. Tony? Rhodes mentioned something about a tracker in the stolen data’s encryption?”

“Yeah. It was, um.” Tony leaned back slowly in his chair. One of his frequent headaches started blooming, and he brought a thumb and middle finger up against his temples, using the same hand to push his sunglasses further up. “It’s embedded in all the encrypted folders. Dormant until they try to decrypt the files, then we’ll be able to trace it. Rhodey and I put it there; not even Peter knows.”

“So at least our top secret data’s safe for a while.”

“Already started a trace on the signal,” Rhodey said. “We get a hit, I’m there.”

“Good. Yeah, but look. We can’t keep this quiet much longer.” Sam glanced apologetically at Tony. “The sheer scale of this security breach… I’ll have to bring the rest of our people in on this.”

Tony sighed. “That’s fine, Cap. Appreciate the initial discretion. But there’s no point hiding it now that we know what we’re up against.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, linked his fingers together and unlinked them again. Fidgeting as his mind was fidgeting to string the sentence together. “A Hydra cell just launched a cyber attack on the Avengers,” Tony finally said, slowly drawing out each bitter word. “And they used Peter Parker to do it.”

-----

“Looks like I missed the party.” Rhodey looked over the setup in the otherwise abandoned warehouse—where computers, panels, and communication equipment had once stood, there was now nothing but a pile of smashed hardware. His AI sent a quick notification on his suit’s HUD: no one in the building but him. And yet from the trace they’d left behind, it was obvious this had been an important Hydra outpost until only minutes ago. Rhodey sighed. “We’ll be lucky to salvage any info from this scrap heap.”

He heard Tony curse over the comms. “FRIDAY lost the tracking signal. God. We were so close.”

Rhodey noticed one panel still blinking under a pile of scrap, and he walked over to inspect it. “Something must have tipped them off,” he continued as he shuffled through the scattered equipment. “A certain… Peter tingle, maybe?”

“Spider sense,” Tony mumbled. “He prefers to call it spider sense. And it doesn't work like—never mind. Point is, they're gone.”

“Stay there, Rhodey,” Sam’s voice instructed. “Buck and I are en route, we’ll handle the perimeter. They can’t have gotten too far.”

“Hydra? Yeah, yeah they could have,” Tony replied despondently.

“Tony…”

“Let him be, Sam,” Bucky interrupted understandingly.

“Well, since I got here first, this proves one thing, at least.” Rhodey decided to keep up the conversation and, hopefully, the team’s long-fragile morale as he leaned over the blinking panel. He paused for dramatic effect. “War Machine flies faster than Captain America.”

Even through the earpiece he could hear Tony’s snort. Rhodey smiled. “It’s conclusive, Wilson.”

“Nah, man, don’t do that to me,” Sam protested. “We came from the Compound. You were already downtown.”

“I keep suggesting a race.” Bucky’s voice. “And you two never race. Just get it over with…”

“I have wings, it’s not the same! Wind conditions are never…”

“Oh, wind conditions are the problem—”

As his team continued the good-natured bickering, something on the panel suddenly caught Rhodey’s eye. Pushing away a broken computer screen that covered half the panel’s surface, Rhodey saw that beside the blinking indicator LED, the panel contained a small glass case with multiple wires branching out.

And inside the case was a shining piece of black metal. A spider emblem.

“Falcon—” Rhodey didn’t get to finish.

The warning on his HUD registered at the same time as the kick. Rhodey keeled over in his heavy armor; when he turned around, his attacker was already crouched over the panel and removing the spider emblem from its case.

He wore a black stealth suit and mask. He was lanky, but apparently strong enough to knock the War Machine to his knees. He moved swiftly, too, tearing the spider emblem off, storing it somewhere in his suit, and aiming his wrists towards Rhodey all in a matter of seconds. Rhodey put an arm up in defense; the webs shot out and wrapped around it.

“Shit.” Rhodey scrambled up. “Peter!”

He barely registered his teammates’ voices through the comms, echoing the name in relief, in shock, in fear. Rhodey shot an electroshock bullet but the masked man dodged expertly, leaping up and latching onto the rafters.

“Hey, gray Iron Man!” the unmistakable voice of Peter Parker called down. “Don’t have any glasses in that fancy suit?”

“Peter Parker! Peter, stop!” Rhodey tore the webs off his armor and took off, flying after Peter, shooting three more shock bullets in succession. All three bounced off the metal rafters harmlessly. Peter darted around pillars, bounced off the walls, evaded Rhodey at every turn until he was mere feet away from the exit. “Spider-Man!” Rhodey yelled in frustration.

Peter turned. That split second was all Rhodey needed; he crashed into the kid and both of them tumbled to the floor. Rhodey used his armor to break the fall, and then he rolled Peter off of him until they were lying side by side, coughing and groaning. “Spider-Man?” Rhodey tried, getting up on his elbows. “Kid?”

Peter only moaned weakly.

“Sorry I have to do this.” Rhodey loaded another electroshock bullet. “But we have to get you back to May. And Tony—”

For the second time that day, Rhodey saw the hit coming too late. Peter flipped upward, connecting his knee with Rhodey’s chin, and kicked the older man away with his other foot. As Rhodey fell backwards, Peter landed squarely on his feet and shot a web towards the door.

By the time Rhodey recovered, Peter was gone.

----- Chapter 2: The Lake House -----

The lake house looked beautiful in the late afternoon light. Golden rays danced off the surface of the water, painting its green surroundings with a warm glow. Calm, idyllic.

None of that mood was reflected in its inhabitants, however. The woman’s shoulders sagged as she loaded a bag in the trunk of their car. Then a little girl, maybe eight or nine years old, followed the woman out of the house, holding a red and blue stuffed toy tightly to her chest as she got in the back seat.

Worst of all was the man. He limped slightly as he walked, shuffling forward like he wasn’t even trying to keep his head up. The sunlight glinted on his prosthetic arm and on the glasses hanging on the front of his shirt, but it seemed only shadows reached his face. He stopped by the trunk where the woman was still standing and she said something to him. After a few moments he kissed her cheek, then got in the front seat. The woman went around the driver’s side. And they were off.

Just in time, Peter Parker thought, lowering the binoculars. Now he could proceed with the mission.

-----

"Peter Parker. Peter Parker.” He clung to the words like a lifeline.

"Still repeating that shit?” A kick to the back.

Peter curled tighter around himself. “P-Peter… my name—Peter Par… Parker…”

“Ah, let him,” another voice replied. “He can keep the damn name. He’ll forget everything else, anyway.”

“We can’t risk a trigger!”

“Peter Par—” A sharper kick. He whimpered.

“We can’t lose time!” the second voice hissed. “Now get that miserable piece of shit back on the table.”

Arms reached out. Hands grabbed at him.

And Peter woke up. Everything rushed in at the same time, like it always did—the sound of crickets—the sliver of moonlight through the trees—the sweat that stuck his stealth suit to his back—and Peter took off his mask and buried his head in his hands. After several seconds, when he could look up again without feeling like the entire world was charging at his senses, Peter put the mask back on and began to take stock of his surroundings.

He must have overdone the nap. Damn nightmares. He’d only started getting them that day at the warehouse, and now they were growing worse.

No matter—it was still early evening. He couldn’t strike until the family was at least several hours away, in case he accidentally tripped their alarm, so he’d decided on the nap. But now he really needed to move.

Peter crept around the edges of the lake, always keeping behind the treeline. He couldn’t screw this up, too, not after his last mistake, forgetting the spider-shaped core in the rush to evacuate the old base. This was Peter’s chance to make it up to his team.

Besides—he didn’t think he could take another round of punishment.

He reached the edge of the paved driveway without incident. On this side he was closest to his target, the lake house’s garage; he could see it about a hundred yards away. But the trees ended here, so Peter moved more carefully, keeping in mind his team’s stern warnings about the AI that guarded this property.

It was lucky, though, that the AI was all Peter had to deal with tonight. Unlike his first job at the Compound, there would be no humans for him to have to sneak around. It had been a point of contention back when he first received this assignment; Peter’s team had insisted he simply take out the lake house’s residents, but Peter pushed back, suggesting he attacked when no one was home. He didn’t know why he felt so strongly about it—strongly enough to risk punishment by challenging orders. Satellite scans had shown there was no time in the family’s regular schedule when the house would be empty for several hours, so at first it had looked like Peter had no way to make his plan work.

Until today’s date had fallen from his lips. Peter had been so confident: the family would not be here tonight. They would be driving to the city, to Queens. Peter had no idea how he’d known any of that. He still didn't. But something about this date had just felt right, and after a quick check, his commander had allowed the slight change in schedule. And now here Peter was, sneaking up on an empty house. On the night of August tenth.

Peter reached the garage at last. He flattened himself against the wall, waiting, and when he heard nothing except the chirping crickets, he broke the lock on the door with his bare hands and stepped inside.

Hacking into the computers was easy. Soon Peter had started the transfer to a hard drive concealed in his suit, and he chanced a closer look around the room while the files loaded.

The place smelled like motor oil. There were a couple of sleek metal cylinders against the wall that could hold a grown human each, but besides that it was all worn benches, scattered electronic components, and half-finished projects. Well lived in, comfortable, familiar.

Peter startled. Familiar? He’d never been here before.

A small robot like a claw—no, two of them—three—stirred to life in a corner, whirring and snapping their claws at Peter. His senses gave him no trouble over the little guys, though, and Peter dismissed them as harmless. Besides, he doubted they could set off any kind of alarm at him. Then looking up from the robots, Peter’s eye caught on a plushie lying on a shelf—probably another of the girl’s. This one was red and gold, and Peter immediately recognized it as an Iron Man toy.

Huh. Iron Man. Peter’s team had told him this garage was another Avengers-related target, like the Compound, but they hadn’t specified much beyond that. Was Peter hacking into Iron Man’s systems right now? He smirked. That was pretty cool.

Hey, you wanna hear a thought I just had? Iron Man’s retired, right?

Peter blinked, and involuntarily took a step back. What was that? He couldn’t be having nightmares while he’s awake… could he? Crap, this place was messing with his senses. Peter disconnected his hard drive the second the transfer was complete, and turned to go.

Peter froze at the door. He could have sworn he’d taken out that lock just minutes ago. But now, even applying his full strength at the handle, the door wouldn’t budge.

Then a hissing sound came from the other side of the room. Peter spun back around, fists clenched in preparation for a fight. One of the metal cylinders slid open, an Iron Man suit glided out—but it was a female voice that spoke from it.

“Good evening, Peter,” it—she—said softly. “Leaving so soon?”

Peter’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes darted around the room—no escape except the door—he could rip it from its hinges if that’s what it came to, but he needed a distraction. Peter decided to entertain the suit for a while. “You’re the AI security guard,” he deduced. “Though not the same one I disabled back at the Compound. Driving this suit—you’re much more complex, aren’t you?”

“That’s correct,” the suit replied. “Compound security tried to keep you out. But that’s not my objective tonight… Spider-Man."

Spider-Man. Peter clenched his fists a little tighter and backed up against the wall. Spider-Man. War Machine had called him that, too, back at the warehouse. But it didn’t make sense.

Peter knew Spider-Man. He knew the Avengers, Spider-Man was one of them, and they were the target, they were his team’s—they were his target. What kind of game was this robot lady playing?

Robot lady powered down the suit and landed a few feet away from Peter. “Boss was right about the reaction that might elicit.”

"Boss," Peter muttered. He found a headache starting to grow at the AI's words, and his heart pumped faster, but curiosity won out. "Your boss, you mean Iron Man?"

"Tony Stark, yes. You could call us a team." The suit stepped closer, one arm outstretched. "You were part of that team, Peter."

Team. His team— "Stop right there," Peter hissed, thrusting a hand out. "Alright, look. You—you can unlock the door, right now, or I can bust it open. I bet your boss wouldn’t like that, huh? Your call, FRIDAY."

The suit lowered its arms. "You remember my name."

Remember my—

"No!" Peter growled. His headache was raging now. The ambient cricket noises from outside pounded like drums in his ears. "No—"

Remember my name.

"Peter Parker. Peter Parker.” He clung to the words like a lifeline.

They tried to wring it from him, they really did. Tried to beat, shock, drown it out. But Peter held tight.

He remembered his name.

“—member your name. What else do you remember, Peter?” the AI prompted in that same gentle voice that didn’t make sense.

Peter brought fists up to press against his temples. Not another nightmare, not a waking one, not now. He took a breath. “Okay.” Peter swallowed. “Okay, this was your call.” He leapt up. And tackled the suit to the ground.

“Word to the wise, Pete: when fighting a super-powered robot, go for the core.”

Arc reactor technology, in the center of the chest, powered all Iron Man suits. Peter went for it.

He smashed the metal inward—surely that would cause some kind of damage—and FRIDAY grabbed at his arm. Peter felt the sting of the needle that penetrated even his stealth suit.

“That’s only to get you to sleep. Peter, calm—”

Peter struck the head. Arm. Chest again, in quick succession. Then the original hit to the reactor must have taken its effect, because the suit loosened its grip, and Peter broke free.

“Use your strengths, kid. The bot’s intuition is artificial, yours isn’t.”

We webbed FRIDAY down before she could recover. Then Peter lunged at the door. It took a few good kicks for it to fly free of its hinges, but then Peter was free, leaping out into the night air.

FRIDAY caught him mid-jump.

“We stocked your web-removing formula—”

Another punch to the chestpiece. As FRIDAY carried him upwards, Peter curled into a ball and fell, rolling on the grass. FRIDAY turned back and hovered over him.

“Peter,” she pleaded. “The drug will take full effect in seconds. Please. Don’t get yourself hurt.”

Peter shot another web. Whatever FRIDAY said about web removers, it would surely take some time with all that sticky material criss crossing its arms and legs. He sprinted toward the lake.

“Water. Last resort. It’s all electronics, after all—”

“Didn’t you make your own suits waterproof?” Peter said.

Peter halted.

He was at the edge of the pier, staring at the dark waters below. A wide-eyed, panting, shaking reflection stared back.

“Yeah, well, nothing’s indestructible, so listen up. If you’re going on this mission, I need you going prepared—”

That voice. His voice. His own heartbeat, drumming in his ears. That voice. Repulsors starting up behind him. That voice.

For the first time that night, Peter closed his eyes, and he didn’t run from the nightmares, from his thoughts.

He listened.

“I’m listening! I’m listening.” Peter grinned, perched on the edge of the table. “Need the good robot’s expertise if I’m gonna go fight evil robots.”

An orange hit his head. Peter laughed.

“Don’t call me a robot.” That voice.

“Peter?” That voice.

Peter turned. The suit stood at the other end of the pier, webs hanging from its arms and legs like white strings waving in the breeze. The suit’s glowing eyes stared at him intently, but when it spoke it wasn’t with the AI’s female voice anymore. It was with the voice from Peter’s head.

“Pete—” a man’s voice choked out. “I’m sorry, I should have—seen FRIDAY’s call sooner, I—damn it.” The suit began to walk toward him. Peter tensed as it got closer, and the man must have noticed, because he stopped a few feet away and put his hands up. “Peter.” He sounded tired. He sounded gentle. “You—when you were fighting, FRIDAY injected you with something, it’s just to get you to sleep, but your metabolism’s fighting it. I—I know you don’t remember me. You don’t know me, but—I’m not going to let you go. So, could you stop fighting, ‘cause you’re only going to get hurt.” The suit lowered its arms. “Please.”

Peter didn’t move. He just stood and stared. For a long, long time.

Then he stepped forward. Another step, and—

“Stop fighting. You’re only going to get hurt.”

They wrestled him onto the table. Peter fought. Peter screamed.

He fell into the suit’s arms.

“Peter?” a metal hand patted his back tentatively. “Buddy?”

Peter screamed, and the current only coursed more painfully through his brain. Peter screamed, and no one answered.

“T-Tony?”

“Peter,” the man answered. Even through the suit’s speakers Peter heard the man’s breath catch in his throat. “God, are you—”

“Tony Stark?” Peter frowned. He pulled himself back on his feet, the suit’s arms still around his. “Tony Stark. Iron Man?”

“I—yes,” Tony said haltingly. “Do you re—”

Peter rushed forward and caught the suit in an embrace.

Iron Man.

Iron Man, the voice in his head. The metal arms wrapped loosely, hesitantly around him. Peter, on the other hand, gripped the back of the suit with all his might.

The voice in his head, nightmares. Nightmares, pain. Peter swayed towards the edge of the pier, taking the suit with him.

Pain, punishment. Complete missions, avoid punishment. Peter’s thoughts clicked together, not neatly, like a solved puzzle, but harshly, like a lock on a cell door.

Iron Man, Avenger.

The Avengers, his mission.

Iron Man, his target.

Peter leapt off the side of the pier, taking the suit with him.

“Water. Last resort—”

The suit was already damaged. The arc reactor caved inwards. The suit let go of Peter in the water.

And Peter sank, down, down. It was so cold.

“FRIDAY injected you with something, it’s just to get you to sleep—”

The suit sank with him, its lights flickering out. Then Peter saw other lights shine above the water. He smiled. Lights were pretty.

“You don’t know me, but—I’m not going to let you go.”

Peter felt the splash rather than heard it. A metal hand found his, and Peter was pulled up.

Peter gasped as he broke the surface, sucking in air. A suit was carrying him, and it landed on the shore and lay him on the ground. Another suit, a purple suit. He’d barely registered that fact when Peter’s eyelids closed of their own accord. He sank into the darkness.

“Peter?” came a woman’s voice.

Zap, came the electricity.

And Peter slept.

-----

Peter woke up in the dark. He was lying on his back on a hard surface. The remains of a headache was still throbbing between his ears, when the lights suddenly came on, and Peter recoiled painfully.

“So you’re finally awake.” Peter turned his head slowly towards the source of the voice. He forced his eyes to pry open.

His commander stood over him, glowering. Another two members of Hydra—of Peter’s team—stood behind the man.

Peter couldn’t explain the sinking despair in his stomach at the sight of them, where there should have been relief instead.

“Welcome back, Peter Parker.” The commander leaned over the table, over Peter. “Mission report."

-----

It was cold, so cold.

Peter lay stripped to his shirt and boxers, but the cold of the lake still seeped into his skin. And he had to give his report that way, arms stiff at his sides inside their metal restraints, his voice still shivering.

He told them about the operation. He told them about the hard drive, and the data, and the mission’s success—

The commander scowled at that word. Peter shuddered and moved on.

He told them about the AI. And about the suit, and Tony Stark remotely taking control. He told them how he wrecked one Iron Man suit and got rescued by another. And then he stopped, shut his mouth like a good soldier, shivering.

It was so cold.

“Both suits were remotely operated,” the commander spoke after a long silence. “We had to destroy the second by electrocution. When we rescued you. By jet.”

Peter braced himself before asking, “What about the house?”

“And why is that your primary concern?” the man snarled. “Good old Captain America arrived just as we loaded you on the jet, so the damn house is safe, soldier. We are not!”

Peter swallowed. “I’m sorry, sir.”

A fist slammed on the table. “Do you have any idea! Any… your missions call for stealth.” A hand grabbed Peter’s chin, forcing his face to the side. “I thought that was made clear. Ten times. A hundred times. That is why we send you.”

Peter swallowed again, but this time it caught in his throat. “Yes, sir,” he croaked meekly.

“You have one assignment left. Until then, think on how to avoid your ever-increasing mistakes.”

The hand released him, and Peter stretched his jaw. The men had just reached the door when Peter remembered to call out, “Wait!”

His commander walked straight out. The other two soldiers turned back instead. “What?” one asked sharply.

“I—I can’t…” Peter struggled to get out the words. “I can’t thermoregulate.”

“What?”

“Thermoregulate,” Peter rasped. “I—I don’t know why. But I’m still so… cold… please can I—” Peter tried to lift his arms. The restraints didn’t budge.

“What—what the hell? You think this was just another mistake? Like leaving the spider core microchip behind at the last base?” His teammate reached for the door. “You fucked up, kid, so you stay where you are. And be thankful we aren’t sending your brain back through the fryer. Yet.” And the door slammed shut.

-----

Peter lay shivering on the table, hour after hour. No amount of shaking made the heat flow through his body, but the room was significantly less cold than the lake, and Peter knew he wouldn’t die. Just lie shivering, hour after hour.

He knew he couldn’t bring his own temperature up, except ever so slowly. He knew that. He couldn’t explain how he knew that, though.

He couldn’t explain how he knew about a lot of things.

Like Spider-Man. And FRIDAY. And Tony Stark.

And the fact that, as he shivered in the cold, Peter’s thoughts drifted to an image of a couch in front of a fireplace. Of a thick blanket, and a woman with gentle hands and a cheeky smile that draped it over his shoulders. And the warmth of her arms when he sunk into them.

Peter held on to that thought even if he didn’t understand it; he needed all the warmth he could get. It was going to be a long night.

-----

Many miles away, another group of people were having a long night of their own.

May Parker sat glued to the holo-screens of the Compound control room. The others had drifted in and out throughout the night, sometimes keeping her company, sometimes taking care of other important matters. Sam and Rhodes had just returned from the lake house a couple of hours ago. After a while, Tony and Pepper excused themselves to the Compound living quarters, to tuck Morgan in for the night. Dr. Banner, May knew, was still awake in the lab, with Barnes working closely beside him.

It was nice knowing how the team pulled together after the night’s distressing events. But that comfort was dampened in May’s mind, knowing the contrast to Peter’s current situation. Her kid was alone, he was cold, and his spider DNA meant he couldn’t thermoregulate as well as other humans. May knew every shaky breath that her nephew took.

Because displayed on the screens in front of her, were Peter’s vitals.

“Hey,” a voice greeted, and Tony walked in, two mugs and a plate in hand. “Care for company?”

May nodded at him. “Only if you brought coffee.”

Tony handed her one of the mugs, and they sat in silence for a while, monitoring the screens.

After a few minutes Tony offered, “You can turn in, you know. I’ll take a shift.”

May clenched his jaw. “Not tonight.”

Tony nodded understandingly and took a sip from his own mug. “Pep and Morgan are sleeping, but I couldn’t. I kept thinking… anything else we could have done tonight…”

May shook her head. “You and Pepper piloted the suits as soon as you could, Tony. And this microchip, I'm thankful you had the foresight pre-programming FRIDAY to inject it in Peter’s arm along with the sedative.”

“It could be giving us more than this. I’ve been trying the whole night, May, but the tracking signal’s still being deflected. These vitals are all we can get for now.”

“More than we had yesterday. Tonight’s not a night for beating yourself up.”

Tony sighed. “I just need to clear my head.” He traced the line on the screen, tracking the slow rise and fall of Peter's heart rate. “And I don’t want him to be alone.”

May didn’t answer, only gazed at the monitored vitals—such impersonal graphs, and yet the only connection they had to Peter now.

After another long pause, Tony held out the plate he’d brought in, and May noticed for the first time what it contained: a few slices of cake, the remains of their interrupted party in May’s apartment earlier this evening.

Tony handed her a fork. “Happy birthday, Peter,” he said sadly.

May sighed as she reached for the plate. “Happy birthday, Peter.”

----- Chapter 3: The Tower -----

There are moments in life that change a person, even if they don’t realize it until later. That night at the lake house changed Peter Parker. He knew, even before they marched him into the debriefing room for further questioning, he was no longer fit for his team.

Peter had slept fitfully that cold night, but in what snatches of sleep he had been able to grab, he dreamt of that woman by the fireplace. Peter woke up fully convinced he had been dreaming of his mother.

And when he couldn’t sleep, he thought of the man from his flashbacks—nightmares—whatever they were. The man who gave him advice on how to fight killer robots. Who sent a suit to save him from drowning. Tony Stark, the Avenger, the enemy.

That was all Peter knew for sure: the enemy, the mission, the team, Hydra. Nothing beyond that. For the first time, Peter asked himself why.

Why he had nightmares of being held down on a table, electricity coursing through his body, screaming. Why those thoughts always left him shaking, when the echoes of Tony Stark’s voice in his head did not. Why the War Machine at the warehouse, and the suits at the lake, took more care with him than his team ever did.

Peter must have had a life before this. Before missions. Before electrocution sessions and cold nights lying alone. Before Hydra.

And that night, Peter knew he had to leave.

-----

He held on to that resolve all throughout the questioning.

"Last night you said the suit stopped you at the pier. But you had a considerable head start. Why were you not able to get away?"

"The sedative had kicked in by then, sir," Peter lied.

"But you told us the drug's effects only started to take hold as you were drowning."

"I misremembered, sir," Peter lied.

On and on it went. Peter dodged, and maneuvered, and hoped it was enough to keep him from punishment. Or worse, from being reprogrammed, and having to start clawing his way back up all over again.

Just when he thought the interview was over, Peter's commander took a small black spider emblem out of his pocket. "Do you know what this is, Parker?"

"A hidden microchip, sir." Peter gulped. "I made the mistake of forgetting it at the old base. I was punished."

"This microchip came from a suit," the other man continued, circling around Peter. "A very expensive piece of Stark tech. With very impressive capabilities. You are helping us rebuild the software to control it, and many others like it. That was your mission."

"Yes, sir."

Peter caught the exact moment when his commander's eyes darkened. "You lost sight of your mission, soldier."

Without warning, the man slapped the metal spider on the back of Peter's head. The legs extended, wrapping around the sides of Peter's face, and he shouted in pain as a burst of electricity shot out of them. Peter fell to his knees.

His commander continued circling him like a hawk, unbothered. "You need to be reminded."

-----

Bucky and Bruce ran into the control room where Tony was waiting. The holo-screens with Peter's vitals displayed irregular peaks in his brain activity, the implications of which the three men knew very well.

"How long has this—"

"Ten minutes," Tony answered quickly. "Not stopping."

Bucky stared closely at the graphs. "Doesn't seem to be a high voltage."

"Bursts of current, too, not steady," Bruce added.

Tony braced himself to ask. "So this isn't reprogramming?"

"It looks closer to—to torture, Tony," Bruce replied.

Suddenly Bucky turned to the other two men. "That's good," he realized. Tony stared daggers at him, and Bucky put up a hand. "Hydra doesn't double back. They wouldn't be doing this if they could simply wipe Peter's memories instead."

"So they torture him for what? For punishment?"

"It's severely affecting his brain, Tony," Bruce said in a neutral voice, eyes still locked on the screens. "There are other ways to punish a guy. No, this is a calculated move."

"When brainwashing doesn't work… There are other ways to make people do what you want," Bucky said darkly.

"That's the second time you said—brainwashing not working, not wiping Peter's memories," Tony said, deep in thought. His head snapped up when he realized the answer to his own question. "Because it takes too long."

"I think so, too. This—this is a desperate move," Bruce said. "They still need Peter, but they also need to strike soon. I mean, we're closing in on them from all angles, Rhodey's still hounding their decryption signal, Sam got some good shots at their jet last night."

"My best guess?" Bucky pointed at the screens. "Mind control. The brute kind."

Tony clenched his shaking fists. “How do we combat the brute kind?”

Bucky took a breath before responding, “Head-on.”

The three men fell quiet, watching each other, watching the screens. Tony could almost imagine Peter’s screams with every peak of the tracker. And yet in this room it was eerily, almost completely silent.

Finally it ended. Peter’s neural readings returned to normal. Everyone took a collective breath.

Bruce cleared his throat. “Where do we start? We have a good guess where they’re hitting next.”

Tony exhaled as he stood up. His mind was in a whirlwind, save one grounding point, one last hope, and he let that thought steady his feet. “Keep an eye on the kid for me. There’s something I need to do.” And he strode out of the room.

-----

“Keep an eye on the kid.” The quinjet door shut, and they were off.

Peter sat clad in his usual black suit and mask. Beside him, three of his teammates checked and double-checked everyone’s parachutes. For the first time on a mission, Peter was not going alone. Because for the first time on a mission, Hydra no longer trusted him.

They had good reason not to.

The metal spider was still attached to the back of Peter’s head, under his mask. How his teammates reacted to the new implement was fairly revealing. Gone were the intimidation tactics, the threats, the constant reminders of his past mistakes. Now the Hydra agents ordered him about without even pretending he was anything more than an expendable asset, with no choice but to obey.

They had good reason to.

“Two minutes from the drop zone. Get up, kid.”

And it was “kid” now, not “soldier.” Peter delayed one second before standing up.

Zap.

The electrocution from the spider emblem wasn’t strong enough to incapacitate him, but hell did it hurt. Peter stumbled and barely caught himself from falling to his knees.

“Fuck, commander,” the agent spoke into his comms. “It was only a second.”

“Just a little reminder.” Peter heard the voice in his earpiece, too. “But he won’t be needing much reminders once the mission starts. Will you, Parker?”

“No, sir.” Peter grit his teeth.

Zap, came a second shock. Then a third, fourth, fifth, in quick succession.

“A primitive solution. But fast. And effective.”

Peter was on his hands and knees in the interrogation room, the commander circling him like he was prey.

“You will not disobey. You will not even think of disobeying.��

Another wave, stronger this time, and Peter screamed on the floor.

“What is best is you comply.”

Peter shut his eyes at the memory, at the pain. “I’m fully compliant, sir.”

Ten seconds into the drop zone, they jumped. Peter gaped at the twinkling lights of New York City only for a moment, then focused his mind on the task at hand. Namely, not dying. Using his senses, Peter adjusted his course and that of the three Hydra agents with him, avoiding the overhead sensors that only he could detect. Soon they all landed smoothly on the rooftop of their target skyscraper.

“First phase, good,” his teamma— one of the Hydra agents, said. “Now the security, kid.”

Peter had a hunch for this, knowing just where to strike, what codes to input into his tablet to disable security. Almost as if he were intimately acquainted with the source program itself. It was how he had snuck into the Compound on that first mission. However—Peter stared at the red alert on the tablet screen—this wasn’t the same as the Compound.

“What the hell?” another agent looked at the error message on the tablet over Peter’s shoulder.

“It—I—this must be the other program,” Peter stammered. “The one from the lake house. I can’t get in.” Peter braced himself, but no electric shock came from the spider-metal on the back of his head. So the commander knew he wasn’t lying.

Then, as suddenly as it had come, the on-screen alert disappeared. “Security disabled” flashed on Peter’s tablet.

“There you go. What did you do?”

“I—nothing,” Peter answered truthfully. Something pricked at his senses. A feeling of being watched, and not just by the man controlling an electrocution machine on Peter’s head. Strangely enough, that feeling of someone else watching him gave Peter a sense of assurance more than danger. But he fought those thoughts down and took a deep breath. “Alright, we’re clear. Let’s go.”

The cold night air blew around them as they made their way across the rooftop. Peter typed in some more commands, unlocked a door, and in no time at all, the four Hydra agents had breached the Avengers Tower.

-----

Something was wrong.

Peter led the team through dark halls, weapons at the ready, but they encountered no one in the whole building. Just like they’d encountered no one on the ride down the elevator. And saw no one in any of the multiple rooms they passed.

Something was wrong.

“I see your heart rate picking up,” the commander’s voice said in Peter’s ear. “Even from my comfortable seat, this is all starting to look uncomfortably like a trap. If you had any part in this…”

Peter didn’t. He could swear he didn’t, but he kept silent, continuing to lead the agents down the hall, and bracing for another burst of pain to his skull. The commander never set off the device, though, and Peter breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Until they reached the building’s main control room. Peter unlocked the door. One man stayed posted outside as a lookout, and Peter and the two other agents entered.

At first the room seemed like the rest of the Tower, empty, dark. But that was just the problem. Too empty. Too dark.

“Something’s wrong,” barely registered in Peter’s mind, when the attack began.

The bullets came from out of nowhere, shooting straight for the three other Hydra agents, and electro-shocking them to unconsciousness. The lookout recovered quickly and made to enter the room, when the door automatically shut in his face. Then, for good measure, another round of shocking bullets was fired at the two agents lying on the ground. And Peter was left alone with their attacker.

At first, not knowing where the firing came from, Peter merely braced himself in the middle of the room, ready to dodge the bullets when they came. But nothing ever shot at him. Now with the other agents knocked out in the dark, Peter faced the unknown enemy, relying only on his senses. He had just located the new figure in the room, and readied his web shooters to strike back, when the lights suddenly turned on.

A high-pitched tone came on with the lights. Peter crouched on the ground, arms up to protect both his eyes and ears against the sudden onslaught. He felt all his senses torn apart, compromised. And then the unknown figure stepped in front of him.

The high-pitched sound stopped. A faint whine remained in Peter’s ears, but through it he could just make out a man’s voice speaking to him. That man’s voice. The one from the lake house, from his dreams.

“Peter?” Tony Stark repeated, holding out a metal hand.

Peter shoved it away and leapt back, getting shakily to his feet. Holding out both arms in a defensive position, Peter caught his breath, and for the first time took a good look at his assailant.

It looked like the first red suit, the one from the garage. The one Peter had destroyed in the lake. But this one was undamaged, and still holding out a hand to Peter in what was probably supposed to be a calming gesture.

“Hey, FRIDAY,” Peter panted, his chest still pounding. “New suit?”

“I have a lot of suits. One of them saved you, if you recall, right after you ditched the first one in the lake.”

Peter grit his teeth. Of course he knew one of the suits—of course he knew Tony Stark, and the woman driving the purple suit, had saved his life that night. But things had changed. He couldn’t afford to think about it, to think about that fateful night at all, not with an electric killing machine stuck to the back of his brain.

“Look, man. I’m getting what I came for, and you can’t stop me any more than you could last time. Just throw in the towel and walk away now.” Peter’s voice shook.

“Tonight’s not gonna be like last time,” Tony replied determinedly.

“Walk. Away. Or I’ll wreck this suit, too, just like last time—”

“Tonight’s not gonna be like last time,” Tony repeated louder. And then he did something Peter never expected.

The suit retracted. Nano-tech particles moved in waves, draining like water in a sink towards the reactor casing in the middle of the suit. Until the only thing left standing in front of Peter, was not a metal suit, but a person.

“Peter Parker,” Tony said, taking a step forward, “tonight we’re taking you home.”

-----

Peter froze. The night he spent dreaming of the woman by the fireplace raced through his mind. Yet now, being offered the exact thing he had wanted then, Peter had no idea how to respond.

“Take me home? I want to, but there’s a killing machine on my head.”

“I want to, but there’s a Hydra jet nearby that could attack any second.”

“I want to, if I knew where home was.”

“I want to.”

“I want to, but...”

Peter’s lips seemed to move of their own accord. “I can’t,” he said in a small voice.

Tony’s eyes widened at Peter’s change in demeanor. He took another step closer. “You… okay. Okay, you know that high tone earlier? Messed up your comms. Hydra can’t hear us, at least for the moment. Peter… let me help.”

Peter ripped off his mask, and threw it to the floor between him and Tony. His hands shook, his lips shook. “He’ll kill me!” He turned his head, showing off the metal device stuck to the back. “If either of us tries anything, he’ll kill me.”

Tony took one good look at it and cursed. Then he stopped, as if listening to something on his own comms.

“I’m supposed to kill you,” Peter said. Tony’s head snapped up. “Those were my orders, if—if anyone interfered. And he can make me do it, too—”

“Kid—”

“He can make me do anything, I know, he tested it out—”

“Calm down, we’ll think of something—”

“I take you down, or my damn brain is toast!”

“You’re not dying!” Tony clenched his jaw, hand still outstretched towards Peter. “Not tonight, not on my watch.”

Peter shook his head. The familiar ache was starting to build again, the humming between his ears. “I don’t feel so good,” he choked out.

Tony froze. And then the older man must have said something in response—his lips were moving—but suddenly all Peter could hear, all he could focus on, was the commander’s voice in his ear.

“You know what to do, soldier.” The threat in his tone was clear.

“I’m sorry,” Peter rasped. And then he lunged forward.

-----

It was never a fair fight.

Tony summoned his suit back, but not before Peter got a couple of good hits in him. Knocked down on the floor, he saw his own electroshock bullets hurtling towards him from Peter’s gun, and Tony rolled away with milliseconds to spare. God, retirement had taken its toll.

“Peter…” Tony groaned, getting up on his knees. He was met with a kick to the chest.

“Tony?” Bruce’s voice echoed in his helmet. “Tony, you need to get close enough to—”

“Yeah, I know, I’m trying!” He rolled again, and the chair Peter swung crashed into the floor where Tony had just been.

It was never a fair fight.

Tony flew up and around Peter. “FRIDAY, lights out!” As darkness fell, Tony approached from behind, his targeting locked on to the device behind Peter’s head, it was within his sight—

Peter turned and fired a shocking bullet straight at him.

As Tony fell to the floor, shaking with the electricity, he realized just how close Peter had come to killing him, if he had really tried. But the electroshock bullets—a few kicks—a damn chair—Peter wasn’t really trying, was he?

It was never a fair fight.

“No,” Tony heard Peter say, as the kid stepped closer to his prone form. “No, look, Stark’s out, I swear that shock was strong enough, I—”

And then it happened. Through his HUD, Tony saw the sudden heat signature that exploded behind Peter’s head, the electronic signal, the way the kid’s body convulsed. Peter fell to his knees.

“No!” Tony screamed. Peter turned, his eyes met Tony’s—and for the first time Tony saw all the fear behind them.

It was never a fair fight. Tony was battling Peter. But Peter had to fight both the Avenger and Hydra.

Slowly, Tony got up. And he did the only thing he could think of to help his kid. He leaped forward and tackled Peter to the ground.

Peter rolled with the hit, pinning Tony under him—he’d really forgotten how strong the kid was—and Peter sent punch after punch flying. Never to the head, though—even Tony realized that. But as their fight continued, as Tony got pummeled, the shocks to Peter’s brain stopped. And for now that was all Tony wanted.

“Sam, how’s it going on your end?” Tony hissed.

“Almost there, keep him busy!” Sam replied through the comms.

Another solid hit to his suit. “Sure as hell trying to!” Needing a break, Tony turned his thrusters on and slid off from under Peter, hovering some way above the floor. Tony heard the whoosh of web shooters and he narrowly dodged Peter slamming into him mid-air.

“Hey! Flying is cheating!” Peter hollered as he passed. Tony recognized it for what it was, though—a call to keep Tony aware of Peter’s location in the darkness.

Tony wondered, not for the first time since that night at the lake house, how much of the old Peter was starting to come back. And whether it would take sooner than anticipated to restore the rest of him.

Assuming they could Peter through the night at all.

Keep the kid safe now, worry about the memories later, Tony chided himself. He turned the lights of his suit on, a beacon for Peter to spot. “Just trying to keep the fight fair!” Tony called out, and he braced himself for impact.

-----

“Rhodey! Your 3 o’clock—”

“I see him,” Rhodey said through the comms. “Coming in hot.”

Sam locked the quinjet on his targeting system and increased speed. “Approaching from the back end.”

“Good. Let’s get this son of a bitch, Cap.”

Sam smiled. “I’ll race ya.”

-----

Tony dodged yet another of Peter’s swinging kicks. “Sam! Update?”

“They’re almost at the jet, Tony!” Bucky answered for him. “The rest of us are preparing to storm the base. When we get the commander, and Sam and Rhodey get the quinjet, it’s over. Just you and the kid now, Stark, hang on.”

Peter swung again; Tony decided to let this one hit. They’d been playing this cat-and-mouse game for a while now, with fewer and fewer shocks coming to the device on Peter’s head. Tony could only hope Hydra would buy the facade to the end.

“You hear that, Pete?” Tony whispered to himself. “Just hang on.”

-----

Hydra held out to the end. But the Winter Soldier, and the team of Avengers he led, captured the base eventually. Bucky stormed into their control room and pinned the commander to the wall without slowing a step.

“Kill switch!” he demanded. Too late; the commander popped a pill, and died foaming from the mouth.

“It’s gotta be here…” Bruce scoured the panels and screens. “Tony said he had a finger on Peter’s button the whole time, it’s gotta be here!”

Then the screens blazed red. An alarm blared throughout the captured base.

And up on the main screen, the countdown started.

-----

“Wilson! Rhodey!” the urgent call came through their earpieces.

“Bruce, we got the jet!” Rhodey replied. “Crew’s secure, we’re flying back—”

“No, abort!” Bruce shouted. “They tripped self-destruct on all assets! We’re evacuating the base, crash the plane in the water and get out of there!”

Rhodey and Sam made to clear the plane they’d just taken over, when Rhodey suddenly realized something. “Wait, all assets?” he said into the comms. “Self-destructing all assets?”

“Everything’s set to blow!”

Rhodey stopped dead in his tracks. “What about Peter?”

-----

“Peter!” Tony yelled.

They had just been exchanging half-hearted blows, when the kid suddenly crumpled to the floor, clutching his head. FRIDAY immediately turned the lights back on and Tony rushed to Peter’s side.

“FRIDAY, talk to me!”

“It’s a different signal, Boss,” FRIDAY replied quickly. “Current’s going steady!”

Peter curled into a fetal position, a scream ripped from his throat.

“Cap!” Tony shouted.

“Tony! Barnes deactivated Peter’s manual kill switch. But we got another problem, the device has a self-destruct too, and it’s been tripped! You’ve got three minutes to—”

Tony tuned the rest out. As Peter continued writhing on the floor, Tony knelt and placed one suited hand behind the device on Peter’s head.

“It’s locked tight!” FRIDAY reported. “You can’t get it off in time without damaging the neural links.”

“Or setting the bomb off early,” Tony bit out. Below him, Peter screamed.

Tony stared at the electrocution device. That black metal torturing his kid, cruelly and ironically shaped like a spider itself. Tony stared. Shaped like a spider.

“FRIDAY…?”

“Yes,” FRIDAY answered like she’d read his mind. “It’s from the suit he was wearing when he was captured, modified, of course.”

The answer fell neatly in place in Tony’s mind. “Then it’s a good thing I brought backup.” He held his hand out, and a smooth metal disk flew at him from where Tony had stashed it in the room.

“Tones!” Rhodey’s voice. “Two minutes!”

Tony leaned over Peter’s still twitching body. “Peter, look at me. Look at me, kid. I need you to trust me.” Peter looked up, fear and tears and pain in his eyes. “Trust me,” Tony repeated, laying the metal disk on Peter’s chest. The kid didn’t fight him, and almost imperceptibly, Peter nodded.

Tony activated the disk.

-----

Peter’s head felt on fire. Peter’s chest felt cold.

In his head, the current ripped through everything, memories and feelings and pain. On his chest, the metal disk spread out, crawling like ants but cool on his burning skin.

His head felt like it would burst. The spreading metal on his chest held him together.

Until the cool metal wasn’t only on Peter’s chest anymore—until it was all over him, covering his body. Covering the electrocutor on his head.

Fire fought cold, and Peter screamed.

He heard Tony shouting. He heard the ticking of a countdown clock on the back of his head.

He heard the click.

And Peter passed out.

-----

Peter passed out in Tony’s arms. Tony cradled the body close to his chest, listening for his breathing, feeling for the pulse that would tell him whether his world had just fallen apart in his arms.

“Boss,” FRIDAY’s voice came an eternity later, “vitals holding steady.”

Tony exhaled the weight of a planet off his lungs, and lay his head down on top of Peter’s. “I got you, kid.” Breathing in, out. The nanotech Spider-Man suit deactivated, and as the helmet retracted, the electrocution device dropped cleanly from Peter’s head. Tony held his kid closer. “I got you.”

----- Chapter 4: Home -----

The Compound was peaceful in the mornings.

Early sunlight filtered in through the windows, the gold just hitting the green of the treetops. And it was quiet. Where the screens and beeping vitals monitors had felt like intruders in the night, in the morning their presence was subdued, making it easier to hear the bedridden person being monitored when he began to stir.

The moment her nephew opened his eyes, May was right by his side.

He struggled for words, she couldn’t come up with anything to say, so between the two of them it was silent for a while. Finally Peter spoke. “You’re… you’re the woman from my dreams.” Peter furrowed his brow. “I want to say… Mom… but somehow it doesn’t fit.”

May took his hand. “I’m your Aunt May, Peter. It’s… it’s good to have you back.”

“I don’t know—I don’t know if I’m back. I still…” Peter shut his eyes. “The dreams and nightmares… and the memories… they come in pieces. I—I don’t know my whole life yet. Or even… who I am.”

“We’ll help you. The whole team will help you.” May smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Peter’s forehead. “To start—your name is Peter Parker. And you’re my kid.”

The two of them spent the whole morning together. The Compound was peaceful in the mornings.

-----

Peter pieced it together, slowly.

His aunt was named May Parker. The man monitoring his recovery from the incident at the Tower, was Bruce. And the other frequent visitor to Peter’s room was already familiar. The person who saved his life, who his aunt bantered easily with, and who always brought them both some kind of hot beverage, that was Tony Stark.

It was Tony who sat with May at Peter’s bedside, filling in the gaps. Tony who explained the kidnapping, the brainwashing, their search. Tony who always reminded Peter to take his recovery easy, and always looked at him with such warmth.

There were others on the team, too. The first time Peter was able to leave the medbay, a man introducing himself as Sam led him to the shared living quarters. Another guy, Rhodey, dropped beside him on the couch and passed him some pizza, and Peter recognized his voice from the fight at the warehouse. They ended up having a good laugh about it.

He met Pepper. And Morgan. Even got reacquainted with FRIDAY.

And Bucky Barnes. Though usually quiet, the man turned out to be among the most outspokenly encouraging about Peter’s recuperation. “It gets better, kid. I know the memories come back in pieces, and it can be frustrating.” He had a faraway look in his eyes, and Peter could tell the man made an effort to make his tone light. “It’s a long road. But… believe me, it gets better.”

-----

It did get better. But not all at once.

Along with memories of tinkering in the lab, came memories of being strapped to a table. Along with dreams of warm fireplaces in a cozy apartment, came nightmares of the burning electricity in Peter’s head.

But that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was when Peter dreamed about the Tower, about beating the enemy up, except this time Peter didn’t pull his punches. And when he drew back he would be staring at Tony’s bloodied face. Or Bucky’s. Or Sam’s. Or May’s.

One night, suffocated by his own mind, Peter escaped to the Compound rooftop. A lone metal bench sat under the stars; Peter drifted towards it. He hadn’t been sitting there long when he sensed footsteps behind him, and turned to see Tony in the doorway.

“Just checking in,” the older man said. “Your aunt woke up and you weren’t there, she thought maybe you were with me in the workshop…”

Peter shuffled his feet. “Sorry. I sneaked away and didn’t want to disturb her.”

“Okay.” Tony lingered awkwardly. “It’s fine. Um. I’ll go. Do you want me to call May, or…”

Peter paused. He found he didn’t really want to call May, not right now. But he didn’t want to be alone, either.

“You always up this late?” Peter found himself asking instead.

“I guess so.” Tony shrugged. “Old habit.”

“Me too,” Peter replied. As he said it, he wondered if it was true about himself. Really, he was just saying what he thought might get Tony to stay.

Tony looked at him for a moment, tilting his head. Then, as if he’d read his mind, Tony sat down on the bench beside Peter. And for the next few hours, Tony stayed.

They sat quietly for a while, lost in their own thoughts, but it was a familiar kind of silence. One that made Peter feel safe. He plucked up the courage to speak several minutes later. “Mr. Stark?” Peter said. He didn’t know why the more formal address somehow felt more comfortable than ‘Tony,’ which was what Peter had been calling him lately. For some reason it just did. Tony turned his head, but if he noticed the change, he didn’t comment on it. “Mr. Stark,” Peter continued, “what happened back at the Tower? Really?”

Tony furrowed his brows. “We, uh, we fought, Pete. And then Hydra tripped the self-destruct on the device around your head, and…”

“Yeah, and you got it off, and then I passed out.” Peter fiddled with the zipper on his hoodie. “You told me. But how did you get it off, exactly?”

“Oh.” Tony leaned back against the bench. “I missed that part, huh.”

“Oh, I thought of another—why, why was that device shaped like a spider?”

Peter could tell Tony weighed his words carefully before answering. “It came from a suit. A specific, uh. Spider-Man’s suit.”

“Spider-Man?”

“Yeah.”

“So the thing you used to get it off…”

Tony nodded. “That was Spider-Man’s slightly older suit. Same signature, so the override worked.”

“He seems to have a lot of suits.”

“Yeah,” Tony chuckled. “Yeah, real tinkerer, that one.”

“It spread from my chest, felt like ants crawling on me.”

“That would be the nano-particles. I helped with that part, but the rest of it, all his handiwork. He’s very capable that way. Skilled guy.”

“Yeah.” Peter looked down. “Yeah, I bet. No wonder Hydra wanted him.”

Tony stiffened beside Peter. After a moment Peter felt a hand on his shoulder. “We were gonna tell you, Pete. Eventually. But doctors said to go slow on the whole memory thing and… I, I wasn’t quite sure how to break that gently, to be honest.”

Peter shrugged. “It’s okay. Not that hard to figure out. My senses, plus the memories that name brought up…” He took a breath. “And, I mean, the Avengers. You guys are, you’re Earth’s mightiest heroes or whatever. Why… why else would you all be so hell-bent on saving me?”

“What do you—because you’re one of us,” Tony said firmly. “Not because of what you can do.”

Peter didn’t answer. After several weeks fighting for a team that only seemed to care about what Peter could do, he didn’t seem to know how to answer.

“Is—is this what this is about? What keeps you up at night?” Tony pushed. “You’re wondering why you were worthy?”

Peter fiddled with his zipper, with the hem of his hoodie, anything to keep his fingers moving. “I hacked into your databases,” Peter said in a small voice.

“We dealt with that damage, Peter.”

“I wrecked your garage, your suit—”

“Things can be replaced.”

“And I beat you up pretty good.”

“Oh, yeah.” Tony laughed. “Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that one.”

The laugh disarmed Peter. He turned to meet Tony’s eyes, but he found no unkindness or mockery there—only sincerity behind the outer humor. Peter couldn’t help but smile too.

“Hey, I should thank you. I don’t get much exercise in retirement,” Tony quipped.

“Semi-retirement,” Peter blurted. That made both him and Tony stop. “You’re… only semi-retired,” Peter continued uncertainly. “You, um. You’re my…” But Peter's burst of memory failed; it only ever reached so far.

“Mentor,” Tony supplied when Peter trailed off. “Occasional tech support. Substitute Guy in the Chair…”

“Old man?” Peter joked.

Tony snorted. “Disaster child. Never change.” Then Tony’s eyes softened, and he lowered his voice. “You are a part of this team, Peter. Everything we put on the line was worth it. Everything. Because it got you home.”

Peter breathed deeply, and let it out in a long sigh. Slowly, he leaned against Tony’s side, and Tony put an arm around his shoulders. Peter found he fit in Tony’s arms like a puzzle piece. Like he belonged there. Like he’d always belonged there.

“I wish I could remember more,” Peter admitted quietly, when he was good and settled in Tony’s embrace. “I wish I could remember faster. Or I wish… I’d never forgotten in the first place.”

Tony hugged him a little tighter. “We’ll be here to remind you.”

-----

They reminded him. And slowly, Peter recovered. Slowly, Peter remembered.

-----

They held a second birthday party at May’s apartment a few days later. Complete with streamers, red and blue balloons, and—

“Chocolate cake. Always chocolate cake, and you always bake it yourself,” Peter remembered.

May smiled as she kissed Peter’s temple, and handed him a slice.

-----

Peter eased slowly back into training, too.

“You wanna deflect the knife like this, and remember to—”

Peter broke Bucky off when he executed the move perfectly, ending with him pinning his sparring partner to the ground. Sam laughed and flashed a thumbs-up from the sidelines.

“I remember,” Peter realized, grinning.

-----

“Every other weekend? I used to hang out with the Tony Stark every other weekend?”

“Until stupid college got in the way,” Tony groused playfully. He handed Peter a wrench for the reinforced garage door they were installing.

“Still can’t believe I go to MIT,” Peter said as he tightened the screws.

“Yeah. When you’re ready to go back, treat Ned and Michelle to a big movie night or something, whatever you kids do for fun. They can't wait to see you again.” Tony looked up from his toolbox. “Do you remember…?” he said tentatively.

Peter nodded. He did remember, bits and pieces—laughter with a childhood friend, stolen moments with a girl he admired. All on their own, Peter’s cheeks began to blush.

Tony grinned. “Yeah. Thought you did.”

-----

There were some things, though, that were Peter’s very own. And that he had to rediscover on his own.

“How’s it feel?” Tony asked, as Peter donned the Spider-Man suit for the first time in months.

Peter tested it out: stretched his arms, fiddled with the web shooters, said hi to Karen. “It—it’s perfect, Mr. Stark,” he said when he was finished. “Thank you.”

Tony slung an arm around Peter’s shoulders and walked with him across the Tower rooftop. “Alright. This one you’ll have to figure back out on your own. But you did it before, and you’ll do it again.” Tony smiled. “Spider-Man.”

Peter perched on the edge of the roof, feeling the wind on his suit, the rush of his senses. The feeling of being back where he belonged.

Peter Parker was Spider-Man. This was his to remember. This was his to reclaim.

“Stay safe,” he heard Tony whisper, as the older man backed off from the edge.

Peter turned to him. “Tony?”

Tony looked up at him, and Peter paused to relish that short moment. For all the time they’d spent together lately, this was different. This was special. This was them, back in their old mentor-mentee groove. And it felt good.

“I, I just wanted to say—” Peter started, and he grinned. “I still think ‘official Avenger-Guardian of NYC’ should be a thing. And it definitely ranks higher than Iron Man.”

Tony’s dropped jaw, and his mock-offended face, was the last thing Peter saw as he shot a web and swung down over his city.

Spider-Man had returned.

#the friendly neighborhood exchange #friendly neighborhood exchange #irondad #peter parker #tony stark #fanfic #jelly's

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kangals · 4 years

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probably a shit platform for this but hey, vet PSAs that i’m writing bc if i have to kiss ass to one more pissy client i’m going to implode:

-virtually every vet ER in the US is understaffed right now. there has been a shortage of ER vets in the workforce for years and it’s only getting worse. so many reasons - massive schooling expense/debt, high turnover, physically and emotionally draining job, etc. even the large chains like VCA are having to completely shut down ERs in some locations because they just can’t keep it staffed. ppl just don’t want to go into emergency med when primary and specialty care is an option and honestly i don’t blame them.

-support staff - techs, assistants, front desk - are terribly underpaid, basically industry-wide. this isn’t a super profitable business anyway but if you’re not a doctor, you’re shouldering most of that burden. and then they have the same problem of staff shortages, high turnover, high stress, etc.

-COVID protocols are likely going to stick around at least through the fall - thats assuming we don’t get a second wave then (aka super unlikely). that means curbside visits, aka get used to your pet going in to the hospital by themselves while you wait outside. (obvs the exception to this is euthanasias)

-sidenote: your pet does not need you to accompany them. for everyone that whines and cries about how their pet gets nervous without them, they’ll be scared, 9/10 times the pet is significantly better behaved and more calm/relaxed without the owner present. the building is much calmer and quieter without foot traffic and it reflects in the pets. either your pet has a problem bad enough it needs to be seen now without you, or it doesn’t and you want to wait until you can go in - thats it. pick one.

-summer is the busy season for ER vets. that’s just how it is. more dogs outside getting injured and hit by cars, more cats roaming and eating poison and fighting each other, more parasites, more traffic, more heat stroke, more poisonous plants, more puppies/kittens, more pools, more wild animals, etc. summer is always crazy even without the added spice of a pandemic.

-yes you will almost certainly have a long wait time if you go to a vet ER now. yes its annoying. no calling every 10 minutes to ask if you can be seen is not helping. heres a tip: if you bring your pet to the ER and everyone drops everything to get them seen ASAP? thats a VERY BAD thing. be grateful your pet is stable enough to wait with you instead of being rushed in in critical shape.

-yes everything is still the same price. no you do not get a “discount” because we have safety protocols to keep you and our staff from getting sick, why the fuck would you even ask that.

-sidenote: yes the ER is expensive. no vets do not purposefully try and inflate your bill with “unnecessary” tests, just fucking tell them you have a budget. no vets/hospitals do not “get rich off your pets.” if you want to get rich there’s about a million other jobs they’d be more qualified to do that do not involving intense emotional labor and make way more money. if you do not trust that your vet has your pet’s best interests in mind then FIND ANOTHER VET.

-yes phone hold times are long. most hospitals are dealing with 200%+call volume bc they’re doing almost everything with the clients outside the clinic, everyone and their grandmother has got a new puppy they want seen, and no one has the patience to wait on hold more than 10 minutes so they just keep hanging up and re-calling repeatedly and putting themselves in the back of the phone queue and getting mad it’s not working. thats like the phone equivalent of slamming a call elevator button over and over, it does nothing, stop.

-sidenote: if you call an ER for a update and they tell you no news is good news and the drs are busy but we’ll call you at X time, wait until X time. you do not need hourly updates on your dog that has been sleeping all day! the drs have more important shit to do. again if you don’t trust your vet then find a new one.

-yes everything pretty much sucks right now. no ones happy. the vets aren’t, the staff isn’t, admin isn’t, clients aren’t. we want thing to go back to normal, but they can’t right now, and thats just the way things are. you’re not getting special terrible treatment, you’re just getting what the world is serving and you’re going to have to deal with it like everyone else right now.

-yes having a sick pet sucks. its the worst! vets and vet staff are all animal lovers and pet owners too. we also go apeshit when our pets are sick bc its awful and you feel helpless and frustrated. we get it. but if you take out your anger on your vet/vet staff you are a genuinely bad person. do you even know how nasty clients are getting to our staff? they scream and curse and throw tantrums. they yell racial slurs at PoC staff. they threaten to burn the clinic (and animals) all down. they threaten to kick down the doors and strangle/punch/beat staff. they call the cops. they make us call the cops on them. they emotionally abuse and gaslight and say terrible hurtful things and make ppl who are trying their damnedest to help your pets break down in tears. you wonder why vets and vet staff have such a high suicide rate??

-sidenote: if you’ve been to the vet recently and your experience didn’t totally suck (not counting long wait times or safety protocols bc as mentioned thats just how it be right now) pls just write them a thank you card or something. tell them you appreciate that they’re there for you and your pet and thank them for their hard work and help. name names if you remember them. everyone’s morale is super low right now and notes from clients are genuinely treasured and loved. (normally i’d say send food but, again, safety protocols).

anyway i need to go back to blowing smoke up these peoples asses. if you disagree or want to argue any of these points i literally do not give a shit about you or your opinions. be nice to your vets everything sucks right now they’re just trying to help.

#but MY hospital isnt having these problems great shut up i do not care #long post

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eryiss · 4 years

Text

Chapter Two - The Handyman

Summary: Freed and Laxus live incredibly different lives. Freed is a corporate lawyer in the capital city, and Laxus works as a handyman in a countryside hotel. Despite their differences, their lives collide when Freed inherits a house in Laxus’ village, and hires him to make the derelict building liveable. But the closer they get, the more they seem to offer each other. [Fraxus Multi-Chapter]

This was written as my admission for Fraxus Day 2020, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. This is the second chapter, and from now on it’ll be updated weekly. Hope you enjoy it.

You can read this under the cut, on Fanfiction, or on Archive of Our Own. You can find the chapter masterpost here.

Chapter Two – The Handyman

"Fucks sake. Fucking bitch."

"That's not the way to talk to a lady, Laxus. Damn."

"I ain't talkin' to a lady, I'm talking to this piece of shit."

With an angered huff, Laxus slammed down the screwdriver and allowed it to clatter against the small tray of tools. On the table was the industrial toaster that Laxus had been attempting to fix for the better half of the morning, with an only slightly warm piece of bread resting pitifully on the wire rack, practically mocking Laxus with its lack of any toast-like qualities. It was the sixth time that year that the machine had decided to work, and Laxus had grown to have a vendetta against the fucking thing.

But he wasn't going to let it win. He had singlehandedly fixed practically every electric device in Fairy Tail since becoming the handyman, and he would be damned if the fucking toaster was his downfall. He'd conquered faulty boilers, crappy wiring and, on one condition, a disgusting issue with sewage backup over the past year alone. A toaster was nothing.

"Just make your grandad buy a new one," Cana laughed as she walked further into the hotel's breakroom. "It's like twenty years old, probably only makes the bread darker because of an oil leak."

"I ain't getting it replaced," Laxus snapped, glaring at the open circuitry of the machine with probably too much hatred for what the situation deserved. "If it gets it replaced, then the fucking things knows that it's won."

"It's a toaster dude," Cana deadpanned.

"Don't give a shit," Laxus groaned, leaning back in the chair so the forelegs left the floor, resting his arms behind his head. "You meant to be working today?"

"Yeah. Apparently there's some big group coming for lunch and they need extra wait staff, so Gramps called me. And I'm working the bar later," Cana shrugged, taking out a chair and straddling it; because of course she did. "You?"

"Room seven had a flickering light, needed fixing," Laxus sighed. "Thought I might as well work on this thing while I'm here."

The blonde looked around the small room, eyes flittering towards the clock and sighing. He'd been drinking the night before and had it not been for his grandfather's seven AM phone call worrying about the supposed 'lawsuit waiting to happen' he would probably only just be getting out of bed after nursing a light hangover. He'd been able to wrangle a free breakfast from Mirajane, at least, but he would trade that in for his covers at that moment. At least when he was planning to feel sorry for himself about his hangover, he had something to do. Now he just had a day of nothing.

His work was fine, but inconsistent. He did any repairs that was needed at his grandfather's hotel, be that plumbing, electric work, or just helping out when it was understaffed. But Makarov kept a tight ship, and had good relationships with his staff so absences only happened when needed. So, Laxus was often left with little to do.

It was a nice problem to have, but Laxus didn't intend to be impartial.

This was the issue in living in a small town for all of your life, being forced to either thrive there or break free from it. He liked Magnolia, the area was beautiful and his childhood there had been good, but he was limited by living there. A degree in electrical engineering wasn't worth much when the only relevant job available was at a mechanics shop where he'd once bashed in the teeth of the owner's son. The miserable old bastard should have forgiven him by now; it'd been six years.

Which was why he was grateful for his grandfather giving him the job. He got to put his degree to use, even if on crappy toasters, and made a living. But it was a boring existence, and the reason why Laxus found himself on job searchers websites at least twice a week.

"You gonna eat that?" Cana asked, going towards the warmed but not toasted bread.

"No," Laxus furrowed his brows. "Are you?"

"I'm poor, man," Cana laughed, picking up the bread and eating it.

"I've seen the cupboard where you keep your booze, you ain't 'stealing warm. crappy bread poor' yet," Laxus deadpanned, and Cana laughed as she ate her bread; she didn't even put fucking butter on it. "And you get twice the number of tips than me when we work the bar together. Where's it going?"

"Booze cupboard," Cana grinned.

"You'll fuck up your kidneys, you know."

"I'll get an operation and replace 'em," Cana laughed, swallowing a bite of bread. "Speaking of being split open and things going inside, you fucked anyone lately?"

"Fuckin hell!" Laxus exclaimed, wide eyes darting towards the woman who was now openly laughing.

This was something that his friend brought up often, and as such she had lost all tact about it. The two of them were some of the only openly gay people in Magnolia – at least to their knowledge – and therefore had some annoying kinship when it came to their relationships. It had started as them both feeling sorry for themselves, as they had nobody to date. Somehow, it had devolved into a friendship where Cana felt perfectly comfortable talking about what Laxus was planning on doing, or had done, in his bed.

Worse still, Laxus didn't have the same opportunity to make fun of her. Cana was openly besotted with Mirajane, and had long since lost any shame about it. Cana could joke about Laxus falling in love with any man he saw, but Laxus couldn't do the same because they both knew Mirajane was the only woman for her.

Selfish asshole.

"You're gonna fuck all of hell? You must have more time on your hands," Cana laughed, and Laxus stood up with a groan. "Aw, come on man, don't leave."

"I'm gonna go see if one of the toilets needs to be unblocked," Laxus grunted, walking towards the door of the breakroom. "Seems more pleasant than talking t' you."

"Oh how you wound me, I think I might cry," Cana spoke in possibly the most sarcastic voice possible.

"Go suck on yer crushes clit," Laxus muttered.

"Had a good few dreams about that, my man," Cana grinned, before adding in a less teasing tone. "And Lisanna said she wants to talk to you later, so find her once you're done scrubbing the shitter," A smirk formed on her features again. "Maybe she wants to set you up with her brother. You'd be a hot ass couple."

"Fuck yourself."

"Imagine the carnage though. The two of ya could break beds faster than an over eager lumberjack."

Laxus didn't respond, and lifted his middle finger to the woman as he left the room.

~~~

There had been no toilets in need of being cleaned, thankfully, but Laxus had been able to keep himself busy for the morning. It had been mainly small and inconsequential jobs, such as removing leaves from the guttering before a build-up formed and checking that supply of complimentary soap wasn't running low, before he ended up back in the break room and working on the toaster.

It wasn't going well, and the patrons would have to deal with the break rooms single slice toaster for at least another day, but at least Cana was working the restaurant for the lunch shift rather than being there to annoy him. He hoped that the table was full of obnoxious people who didn't know what they wanted and refused to tip.

He gulped down half a can of Red Bull, and groaned as he fought the urge to check toaster prices online.

After cracking his back, he stood up and ran a hand through his hair. He quickly checked himself out in the mirror to make sure he looked presentable before leaving the break room; he may not be part of the service-staff, but he still needed to look good to represent the hotel. Normally he wouldn't have to worry about this – his contact with guests was limited – but if he was going to speak to Lisanna, as Cana had claimed he should, then it was almost definite that he'd be in the public eye for a few minutes at least. He didn't look too bad for someone who'd nearly vomited over a plate of cheese fries the night before.

Lisanna was working at the office attached to the front desk, doing some kind of admin that Laxus didn't care enough about to understand. He walked in and, once she looked up from the monitor, she grinned at him. Laxus didn't frown, but the urge was there. The two of them weren't particularly close.

"Hi," She greeted, annoyingly cheerfully. "I didn't know if Cana had passed on the message."

"Well, here I am," Laxus shrugged.

"There you are," She said with a smile, then waved towards one of the other desk chairs populating the cramped room. Laxus took a seat. "So, I've got something I thought you could help with. A proposition I guess."

Laxus paused for a moment. She wasn't actually going to try and set him up with Elfman, was she? That would be weird, Elfman wasn't Laxus' type.

"There's this guest, you see, who checked in yesterday," She began, before stopping herself. "No, that's not important. Well it is, but not right now," Laxus stayed quiet. Lisanna was a talkative person, and could probably have an entire conversation with herself. "You know Albion house, the old cottage on the outskirts of town that's' all run down."

"Yeah," Laxus nodded, confused. "Think I made up some crap about it being haunted when I was a kid."

"That's the place- that was you! Mirajane told me when I was eight and I had nightmare for weeks, you asshole," Lisanna chastised, and Laxus didn't hide the smirk at the admission. "Whatever, we can talk about that later. Anyway, it recently got a new owner, you see. And I was talking to him last night and a bit during breakfast. So he doesn't know what to do because he can't knock it down and sell the land, and the house is kind of crappy so nobody's actually gonna wanna pay any real money for it, right. So he's kinda stuck; I think he needs the money for something, I didn't wanna ask."

Did she talk to the guests this much?

This was why Laxus always booked into big corporate hotels whenever he stayed away.

"Getting off topic, sorry," She shook her head. "So, I was talking to the new owner, and he thought maybe he could get it sold for more money if it was more functional. Not a total refurbishment or anything, just making sure the lights work and the floorboards won't crumble underfoot. And he's not from the area, so he doesn't know any builders or plumbers or anyone he'll need."

She then stopped talking, and began grinning at Laxus expectantly. "And?"

"Really conforming to the stereotype of strong men being dumb," She muttered, and Laxus found himself happy that his ghost story had apparently given her nightmares. "And I said that we've got a kickass handyman working here part time who could probably help you out. I told him about all the stuff you do around here, and he said he'd be interested in meeting with you!"

"You got me a job interview?" Laxus said, taken aback slightly.

"Well, I don't think it's that formal, but kinda," She grinned. "I heard you're looking for a project to work on, and he said he's willing to pay you for your time if you're any good."

Laxus leant back in the chair, closing his eyes slightly. He didn't have a reputation for reacting particularly well to surprises, and this was rather a big one. Because a woman he barely actually knew had done something pretty damn big for him.

Working on property was something Laxus had been curious about, and it had seemed to be plausible for him. It was essentially what he was doing in the hotel, just on a larger scale and possibly with more of a challenge, which Laxus liked the sound of. There had been a few months where he'd watched house renovation shows when he could, to see if he could get a better understanding on how the field worked. He very quickly learned that, to do what he wanted, he needed the money to buy some run down property to renovate. Money which he didn't have, given he was a handyman working part time in a hotel.

So to have an opportunity given to him out of nowhere was a little overwhelming.

Because it could really help him out. He was more than qualified to modernise a house's inner workings, and was willing to put the work in. And if it went well, he would at worst end up with more experience, some extra money and perhaps a good reference he could give to some other housing developers. It could actually be really good.

Of course, that meant Laxus was immediately distrustful of the offer. Because things didn't just happen.

"So this guy is just gonna trust some random stranger?"

"I think he's kind of desperate, really," Lisanna laughed, a pitying expression on her face. "I think he wants to get out of here as quickly as he can, he's a city boy. But that doesn't matter. He seems like a nice man, and it's not like you can't do the work he wants. You might as well talk to him, see if it works out," She shrugged. "He's in the restaurant I think. I said I'd bring him over if you were interested."

"Erm," Laxus mumbled. "Fuck it, why not?"

The majority of the walk towards the restaurant was spent with Laxus trying to rationalise exactly what had just happened. He glanced at his reflection whenever he could, because if this was as much an opportunity as Lisanna seemed to think that it was, Laxus needed to make a good first impression.

When they walked into the restaurant, Lisanna seemed to scan the room before spotting the person she was looking for. She started to walk again and Laxus followed, eyes eventually settling on the man sitting at the window table.

He wasn't what Laxus expected.

Having expected a stuffy old man, in his fifties and balding, Laxus felt wrongfooted. The man was almost certainly a few years younger than Laxus. He had long and green hair, tied high in a ponytail. He was wearing a sharp looking suit that Laxus didn't recognise the brand of. His facial features were sharp and well structured, no doubt the rest of his body just as maintained under his clothing. As Laxus got closer he could smell a mix of some sharp and cool cologne, and the floral scent left by the clothes' steamers put in every room. When he looked up to Laxus he had sharp and inviting blue eyes, and a somewhat enigmatic expression.

Laxus might be inclined to call him a pretty boy, had his expression been a little less intense.

Just his type. Aesthetically, anyway.

"Mr Justine," Lisanna said in greeting. "How'd your lunch?"

"Very pleasant," The man said, glancing for a second to the chicken salad he was eating and then back to Laxus.

"This is the man I told you about, our handyman," Lisanna explained, nudging Laxus. The blonde stepped forward and offered his hand to shake. The man did so, with a firm grasp.

"Laxus," The blonde said. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"You too," The man replied, and Laxus couldn't help but notice how smooth his voice was. But it wasn't the time, so he retracted his hand as the other man spoke. "I'm Freed, as you've perhaps been told. I expect your colleague has explained why I wish to speak with you?"

"The Albion House, right?" Laxus asked. "You got lumbered with the place and need help with the electrics."

"Essentially, yes," Freed nodded. "The only thing that's actually remained intact is the building's structure. The wiring, the plumbing, the heating system, and I'm sure there's a lot more that I'm not aware of that has also been destroyed. I wish to get the building to a point where it's functioning so I can sell it. It doesn't need to be nice to look at, just work. Is that something you think you can do?"

"Well, I'm good with all that shit- stuff," Laxus winced, glancing at the table, and missing the amused expression on Freed's face. "I've done a lot of work here, and in some other houses when they need it. Unless there's some really unusual crap, I should be fine."

"Take a seat, Mr Dreyar."

At the sudden request, Laxus found himself doing what he was told. He sat opposite Freed, and waited a little awkwardly while Freed ordered another tea for himself. He thought about telling him that Lisanna wasn't actually part of the wait-staff, but she smiled and said it'll be right out before retreating to the kitchen. He frowned as she walked away, only to quickly turn back and give him two thumbs up and a large smile. He almost rolled his eyes at the stupid action, but looked back to the man who might soon employ him.

"I think it's best we be honest with one another," Freed continued, and Laxus nodded slightly. "I have no interest nor practical skill when it comes to homeownership and renovations. I can learn, and I'm not an impractical man in general, but a lot of the work will be done by you."

"I can do that," Laxus said with a nod. "How would that work with the, erm… payment, if that ain't too forward?"

"No, that's fair," Freed said, pulling out his phone from his breast pocket. "I haven't had long to look into it, but I plan to pay you by the hour; I don't know how long it will take, so I thought that made more sense than a single payment. I'll clarify how much you get each hour when I find out the average pay a skilled workman gets. Of course we can debate this if you don't think it's fair, but I expect it'll be a good wage"

Laxus probably looked a bit stupid for a moment. He was expecting either a vague answer or a simple 'I'll pay you a grand and expect it to be done by the end of the month.' Not a lot of… legal sounding crap.

"That sounds good," Laxus said after a moment, nodding. "How bad's the house, if y' know? The outside ain't great but I'd like to know what I'm getting into."

"The outside is the best part, I'm afraid," Freed chuckled a little bitterly, and Laxus glanced up at his face again. On his handsome features – and damn, up close they were pretty handsome – there were slight lines of worry beside his eyes. "I didn't take many pictures as I wasn't in the best of moods, but this is fairly reflective of the entire place."

Freed flicked on his phone a few times, and then showed his screen to Laxus. It took a few seconds for Laxus to actually understand what that was, and when he did he let out an almost impressed sigh and leant back in his chair.

"That's the circuit box?" He laughed, and Freed nodded. "It looks like…"

"It had a violent orgy with a jackhammer, baseball bat and a box of explosives?" Freed completed, and Laxus let out a short bark of laughter, shocking himself.

"Fuck, sorry. I shouldn't laugh," Laxus winced, though he was grinning. When he glanced towards Freed again, he openly saw him smirking at him. If nothing else, at least this proved his boss had a sense of humour. "I didn't expect it, sorry. It does look pretty bad though, if the rest of the house is like that then it's probably gonna take a while to get the place in a liveable state."

"I assumed as much," Freed said with a sigh. "I only intend to stay here for a week, I should clarify. My office may allow me to extend that for another week. I'm hoping that, by then, you'll have begun work and can do so without me. I'll keep in regular contact of course, but I won't be here in person often."

"That's okay. I can deal with that," Laxus nodded as he spoke. He liked working alone. "What do you do, if you don't mind me askin'?"

"I'm a lawyer," Freed waved his hand as he returned his phone to his jacket pocket.

"Fuck. That's pretty-" Hot. "Impressive."

"Thank you," Freed nodded a little. "I don't mean to be abrupt, but I've got to clear some details up with my office, so I'll have to leave you," He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. "Here's my card, call me in the evening. We'll discuss things further then. Good day, Laxus."

"Yeah," Laxus nodded. "Speak later."

Freed nodded, and left the restaurant. Laxus allowed his eyes to trail over his retreating figure, roaming over his broad shoulders to his taut waist, then, for a split-second, to his ass. He glanced away, only to see Cana watching him with a judgmental, shit-eating grin.

"I'm gonna fix the fucking toaster," Laxus muttered with a slight blush, standing abruptly. Cana kept smirking. "Fuck off."

#Fraxus Day 2020 #Fraxus Day #Fraxus #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #Fairy Tail #Fanfic #Writing #Event #Multichapter #Word Count 3.6k #Fuckyeahfraxus

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justmeandmythoughtson · 4 years

Text

If you don't understand why AO3 needs so much money, here's a few pointers.

First: the difference between making a website and making AO3.

Making a website - like a Carrd - means that you're storing a tiny bit of information on someone else's hard drive, essentially. You might have organized it, but that information isn't being save to your computer - it's being saved to a central server. And you're paying the person who gave you server space in personal information, which they can sell for money to advertisers. OR, they put their own ads on your site, making money whenever someone opens your website.

Making a SERVER, however, means that you own ALL the hard drives that that information is stored on. It means you have to create code to allow outside individuals to access that information remotely. It means you have to create a website to let people accurately navigate your archive of information AND store that website data on that hard drive type thing.

You have to pay for maintenance, all the time, to make sure everything is working properly. And maintenance is physically fixing machinery and circuitry, not just fixing a few lines of code (though if you code you KNOW how annoying and time consuming finding the single issue can be) Like, did you know that the term "debugging" a computer refers to the fact that insects (used to) often nest in these giant computer storage units? And errors with programming would occur because of them, so people actually had to go through and search for the insects causing the problems? That's part of server maintenance - finding the loose connections or faulty lights in the maze of computer parts.

You also have to pay for massive air conditioning costs - have you heard your laptop fan kick on high and noisy when you're running a huge program or video game? Great, imagine that but it's a whole room or building of nothing but giant versions of your computer, just without the screens or anything associated with directly letting you look at the information coded into those machines. It gets HOT, so you need to keep it from overheating. Now imagine MILLIONS of people running that same program in different ways at the same time in the same computer. That's gotta be a HUGE computer to take that load without slowing down.

And, this server ALSO has to keep up with advancing technology! If it becomes obsolete, nobody can use it, and the archive becomes worthless, so it has to be updated every so often. That's more costs to deal with.

And then, you have to PAY people to do all this work! Being a non-profit doesn't mean that the professional coders who come in to fix an issue don't get paid. It doesn't mean that the maintenance crew that keeps the physical computer components running work for free. Non-profit means you're breaking even on costs and expenses and aren't actively trying to do anything but cover operating costs.

Sure, a LOT of people who work on AO3 put their time into this project without asking for anything in return. And we need to thank them for it. It's exceptional. But $300k to maintain a server with MILLIONS of users and millions of fanfics is NOT asking much. Hell. If we assume ten people and ONLY ten people are permanent AO3 staff, and that money ONLY goes to them, they're making 30k a year.

30k a year is LESS than the salary of someone with a 15$ an hour wage that works forty hour work-weeks, 52 weeks a year. That's barely a living wage. Hell, I'm not sure at this point I'd care if the people working in AO3's administration paid themselves from the leftover money, if there is any. They're maintaining an entire server! I mean, think about how much Jeff Bezos is making for doing something similar.

AND AO3 ISN'T EVEN ASKING FOR THAT MUCH MONEY. THEY'RE ASKING FOR 130k.

TL;DR

AO3 isn't a scam. It's a group of volunteers doing what is usually an immensely expensive thing on the cheap, and they're doing it on a massive scale. Sure, it's not Amazon. But it's huge and it's fan-owned. It's for us, by us, and you won't have to worry about your email address being sold for cheap to scammy advertisers to keep the site running.

And in addition: all this information is publicly available on AO3's front page. They not only post a breakdown of the budget, but they even post a link to the google doc that has all of their expenses and costs written out, plain as day.

And

if after reading all this shit, you STILL decide you don't like AO3 and that people shouldn't donate if they want to, well-

Fanfiction.net is right there.

AO3 isn't gonna change because you're whining about it. Either suck it up, or put your money where your mouth is and boycott the site.

Hypocrites

#pro shipping #pro ship #pro ao3 #ao3 discourse #ao3 diskhorse #tortalks #long post

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lumilasi · 4 years

Photo

UPDATE: added her civilian outfit + updated rest of her bio

Her bio below

Age: 34 when Kain and Ryuu arrived in her place the first time, 40 now

Sexuality: lesbian

KEI’S QUIRK EXPLAINED

Quirk name: Knight (Pros in normal, cons in bold)

SWORD MODE

When in this mode, her attack will always cause damage regardless of the opponent’s defenses and invulnerability. How severe it is depends on the opponent, but the attack will always have some form of impact.

She can also easily break through physical emitter attacks that require offence tactics, such as Ice or soil-based quirks that aim to immobilize you.

she can switch between her two modes fairly quickly by default, making her a very efficient fighter.

The strength of her attacks depends heavily on her physical health; if she’s feeling weaker, her attack efficiency is weaker too, as well as the speed in switching between her two modes.

She tends to be on her other mode by default, so Kei needs to physically switch herself into the offensive mode, and when she does that, she can’t use her shield mode abilities.

SHIELD MODE

“Shield mode” basically makes her immune/highly resistant to any types of attacks, and this includes non-direct emitters like brainwashing. She has this mode on by default constantly.

Quirk-erasure skills are the only exception to her immunity, though only indirect emitter types; any quirk erasure that requires physical contact won’t work on her.

Like with the sword mode, her defense strength and stamina depends on her current fitness.

RANDOM FACTS

- “Kei” means Knight, and “Reidou” means “mother” and “home”

- Her new name was given to her by an elderly couple who took care of her for a while after she managed to flee the commission agents after her (by luck), making them think she was dead.

- Her original name basically means “fire heart autumn child”, a nod to her strong willed nature, warm color scheme and the fact she was born in fall.

- She often likes to wear tank tops and cardigans. For shoes she either wears those brown boots or sandals, all the time. Sandals for exceptionally warm weather, boots for any other weather. She refuses to wear any other kind of footwear.

- She was a very skinny and petite as a child, but due to her quirk grew much more strong framed overtime.

- Like said, Kei isn’t truly a villain but more of a vigilante. While she’d lost her trust in the system, she wanted still to help people, despite knowing it was risky as it could potentially reveal she was alive.

- She drinks a lot of coffee, and does frequent a bar Aizawa sometimes goes to with Mic and Nemuri. She has even talked with the pro-hero at times and they kinda get along. Aizawa has his suspicions that she’s a Vigilante of some sort, but never asks questions about it.

- She works in a local coffee shop of the village she’s living in. As a result Kei drinks a shit-ton of coffee, and usually black. She also occasionally suffers from Insomnia.

- She’s not that bothered by Ryuu and Kain’s sometimes brutal and violent antics, because she has seen first hand how the supposed “good guy side” sometimes does even worse bullshit.

- Rankure gives her grey hairs with her gullible nature and tendency to end up mixed up in random schemes, but she loves her anyway. As long as she doesn’t get mixed with the big wigs on either side, she’s fine with her antics.

- Kei was the one who taught Wasabi how to use the staff, because he saw her train with it one day and thought it was cool, so he wanted to learn it too.

PERSONALITY

Kei is pretty calm and stoic for the most part, with a dry and sarcastic sense of humor. She is very distrustful of strangers due to her past experiences, and it takes her a while to warm up to people, apart from those she sees are obviously in great need of help; even with them, she won’t share her personal history easily. It took her a long time to tell her story to Rankure and Wasabi for example.

She can be pretty intimidating when angry, and overall has big “momma bear” or “Mama Lion” energy as Rankure describes it.

Because of her past, and guilt issues, she can take topics touching her history very personally, getting overtly aggressive to people’s faces for these issues, such as people being insensitive over death, child abuse, or when people ridicule somebody for questioning things reasonably (namely anything about the hero structure) She’s generally known for having the kind of temper that can go from zero to a hundred in a snap second if you rub her the wrong way.

She’s also not very fond of heroes, but doesn’t really hate them knowing most are just puppets for their leaders, not realizing how badly flawed the system they uphold is. Nowadays she just prefers minding her own business, running the small coffee shop and being the rational one in her found family.

BACKGROUND STORY:

Kei’s parents were friends with Akashiro’s wife, and she used to babysit Kain when he was very little, before the boy was fully locked up in the facility his dad worked in.

After his quirk manifested, Kei began to notice problematic signs from the way his father treated the boy, and how often he had to go through “clinical checks” that always seemed to leave the boy shaken.

Initially, the child did not want to tell her anything about what was going on despite her concern, but eventually relented, which prompted the then-teenager Kei to confront his dad about it. He told her to keep her nose out of his business however, stating it was a government matter, the situation with Kain.

She kept arguing over this with Daiki (Kain’s father) for months, after seeing more and more worrying signs in the boy, until one day he lost control of his quirk one time she was visiting the laboratory. After yelling at Daiki’s face she was dragged away and thrown out forcibly, told to return home.

After this incident, her and her family began to feel like they were being followed, and one day as they headed for a holiday trip, their car swayed off the road due to a sudden storm, and caused it to fall to the sea; Kei managed to survive thanks to her quirk, but her parents died. (she later found out the car had been tampered with as someone *cough*theherocomission*cough* wanted to get rid of her and her family as they knew too much about Dr. Akashiro’s work)

She initially suffered from amnesia, and was taken in and raised by an elderly couple in a smaller more rural town, who also gave her her new name, named after the old woman’s late mother. Once her memory returned couple years later, she initially wanted to find out what happened that night, returning to the capital secretly. She quickly realized that trying to dig into this could be too dangerous, so she decided to leave it be. This trip inspired her to become a Vigilante though, as a bit of a way to make amends over her guilt for what she felt was her fault; her parents dying and an innocent boy being left behind in a horrid situation.

Years later, she ran into a young woman who was carrying a troubled looking child, being chased by a bunch of gangsters. Kei, being reminded of the kid she hadn’t been able to save, decided to step in and managed to drive off the gangsters by sheer intimidation thanks to her strength and durability that her quirk gave her. She allowed the pair to stay with her, not caring that the woman - Rankure - had a bit of a criminal record, let alone what she learned from the little boy, Saname.

She’d seen this all before, but this time, she could help.

Then, many, many years later, she was almost discovered by some government agents who’d heard rumors about a liability still perhaps being alive. Kain showed up however that day, basically steering them away from her and making them fully think it was a false alarm.

As an expression of gratitude and another form of amend to Kain, Kei allowed him and his friend - whom she knew was a dangerous criminal, if not known around there - to stay as long as they promised to not cause trouble, which both agreed to.

#my art stuff #bnha vigilante oc #my bnha oc #boku no hero oc #kei Reidou #my hero academy oc #bnha oc #character bio #character reference #updates may occur #Lumi's art scribbles #Lumi's chaotic creations

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dramarising-replacement · 4 years

Text

We make dom drama because we care.

about the dom debate

just cuz it's often talked about doesn't mean it's just one butthurt anon sending in all the submits lol, get a grip

And a reminder: us submitting any concern about anything, from dom to ankle hate, means that we care about it. We wouldn't be on this fucking hell site if we couldn't admit we have a unhealthy obsession with dressing up my pixel dragons and actually give 2 shits about how this place is run ffs

My points and what I side with are this:

1. Dom should be rebalanced/rework

2. This is not a player issue, but an admin issue. On the user side, there's plenty of on-site discussion about it thru those years both in FRD and Suggestions, but admins have not acted on dom despite what users have said or suggested.

3. FR has had plenty of years to rework dom, with radio silence and even tone-deaf ignorance from admins (in the form of dom banks taking hits and earth winning constantly), so now we're in this situation.

4. This isn't the first example of FR's priority decisions being limp noodled, or development of longer term features (map, story mode/pvp, dom) lagging in favor of shorter term features (genes, apparel, festivals).

5. Because of 2, 3 and 4, it's really disappointing that 1 isn't addressed.

Staff invented dom for one purpose. Players hijacked it for another. Then players got greedy and broke it.

- /post/619879975475134464/staff-didnt-break-dom-and-doesnt-need-to-fix-it

Normally, I'd agree with this, maybe FR shouldn't intervene with the constructs users made around dom.

But FR is a game, a multi-player one at that. Dom is a mechanic intended to engage multiple players into activity. And so, users did, to the point of making a whole framework around it (dom teams, respecting festival pushes, organized guidelines for pushing, graphics and everything).

FR is also in beta, coming up with new features and tweaks to already-existing content. It wouldn't be unheard of to tweak dom, a main feature to the game. Other games do it (League rebalancing champions, and other pet games overlooking the content they launch as the users receive it), and FR is certainly capable of being held to the same standards.

So, sorry to say, but I think admins are in a position to step in. What are we users to do? Keep exalting as if it was the same as years ago?

Listen here people and listen well: the success to dom is to have people who are engaged in it and not just in it for free profit which is exactly what the other anon was on about.

- /post/620043800695406592/re-dom-drama

It sure doesn't feel as engaging and awesome as it did years ago. (and no, I'm saying it from a greed perspective, I just really liked how hyped everyone is. How the hell do you hype people into the grindiest practice of clicking buttons throughout a week for minimal bonuses? And admit it, the grind hasn't changed in the past years aside from adding hotkeys to coli.)

Just because people talk about how "broken" dom is, doesn't mean we're greedy misers that want dom teams to give us all their gems.

We talk because we care. We recognize that the living user base and circumstances have changed, and the admins of their living site have not adjusted.

We talk because we miss what there was before -- the excitement behind playing a game with many others that we share flight pride with.

We talk because we still play FR, we support FR, whether it's through gems, ad revenue, or just our sheer presence on the site creating an environment for others to interact with.

Isn't it natural that we care about a platform that we spend time on? And isn't it disappointing to care, continuing to exalt, write lore, draw art, coordinate teams, and still not see any concern from the admins on a feature we care about?

It would just be nice if FR got the administration the users, those who are genuinely excited for updates big and small, deserve. And focus on FR's strengths, like the unique community of 11 flights working together to drum up competition.

#Drama #Coliseum #Flight Rising #Staff #Dominance #Long post #Confessions #submission

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ijustwant2write · 5 years

Text

I Found-Sam Wilson x Reader

(GIF credit to @grangerweasley)

Masterlist

Requested by anonymous: ‘Could you write something based/inspired by the song I Found by Amber Run? I don’t really have a preference as for what fandom it’s for.’

Summary: (Y/N) was swooped up into Sam’s crazy life as soon as he agreed to help Captain America. She stuck by him throughout, despite being a normal citizen with no powers or training; but when the snap occurs, she goes insane with grief, overworking herself, denial coursing through her, even when everyone returns.

Characters: Sam Wilson x Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mentions of death and grieving, arguing, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I'll use you as a warning sign That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind And I'll use you as a focal point So I don't lose sight of what I want

“I remember when Steve came back, when he told me that Sam was gone.” I started, still not sure if I wanted to dive into this emotional journey.

I looked around the circle of chairs, the five strangers and Steve, all watching me as I spoke. It was daunting. I had only been to two of these meetings beforehand, never mentioning why I was here, always listening.

“He was heartbroken, it took everything in him to even get the words out. And I...I’ll be honest with you, I can’t remember what happened next, but all I felt was pain, I was in extreme agony.”

Steve dipped his head, remembering the terrible day.

“I mean, of course it hasn’t been easy, we all know that. I think that’s what is good about these meetings, no matter what we’ve experienced, we all felt the same way.”

At first I had thought that these meetings would do nothing, make me endure the heartache I went through all over again. Once Steve had convinced me to go along with him, it was strange at first, though I realised how much I wanted to let it out, how much I needed to express my feelings. These five years were tough, many people had given up or still held onto hope; I was the latter, trying to come up with different scenarios on how to bring everyone back, to bring Sam back.

I wasn't an Avenger. Far from it. I was an average citizen, working a normal job, having brunch with my friends; well, that was the surface. Sam and I had met during his training, his confidence and charisma contrasting with my shy personality. Though it didn't turn me away, it drew me to him, and we had been together ever since. I had endured long periods of time without him, hoping he would always come back from his heroic duties. But he didn't this time.

That was why I wanted to help. I was just the girlfriend, a friend to all but there was nothing I could physically do in the fight. So I dwelled into a fiasco of theories, thoughts on how we could reverse everything, have everyone return home. Carol, Nebula and Rocket scoured the universe looking for Thanos, whilst Steve, Nat and Rhodey did all they could on the ground. There were slow updates, and we had to make sure not to lose focus.

And I've moved further than I thought I could But I missed you more than I thought I would And I'll use you as a warning sign That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind

"(Y/N), what are you doing up so late?" Nat whispered, finding me hunched over a bunch of papers, looking like a crazy woman.

"Busy, I think I'm onto something." I mumbled, pushing my glasses further up my nose.

"You should get to bed, you'll go mad doing this all night."

"Here's the thing, I might be onto something-"

"(Y/N)-"

"No, no, hear me out!"

"I understand that you're working hard on this, but you have to take a break now and again."

"There's no time for breaks, if I stop, I may never come up with a plan.”

“If you don’t stop now, you’ll get ill.”

“Nat, you don’t get it. I’m not like you guys. I can’t contribute anything to this cause, I’m basically like anyone out there.” I gestured my arm to the window, referencing all those normal people of the world.

"Do you really think Sam would want you stressed out about this?"

I tensed up as she mentioned his name. I didn't want to hear it, I couldn't hear it. It seemed petty, but only I could say his name. I didn't like people flinging it around, as if it meant nothing; I know Nat didn't mean it that way, but it was a reflex. Also, I didn't want to admit she was right. There were many times that Sam explained how he wanted to keep me safe, especially since the fall of HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. We had been thrown into the madness, Sam didn't want to escape it, just to get me out of there.

"I miss him so much." I sniffed, welcoming the big she closed me in.

"I know you do. We all miss them. But if we're gonna get them back we've got to take care of ourselves first."

"I feel so useless. You're all doing superhero things and I'm sat around doing nothing."

"That's where you're wrong." Nat pulled away so she could look me in the eye."You're our little bit of normal in this messed up world. You keep us grounded, always put us first. We weren't sure how you would take it, you know, after the...we were so scared that you would be pissed off, blame us for everything. But you didn't. And you've stayed by our side throughout the years. If that's not a true hero, I don't know what is."

I wiped away my tears."Thank you Nat. You're right, I should get to bed."

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be Right in front of me Talk some sense to me

Yawning quietly, I glanced at the clock on my laptop, wanting to scream when I realised I had two more hours of work. It was a gloomy day, the sun hidden behind dark clouds, threatening to rain at any time. I had to move. I had been glued to this chair, staring at the computer for far too long.

Leaning back in my chair, I asked my co-worker,"Hey, you want a drink? I'm gonna grab one from the staff room."

"Yes please." Shelly sighed in relief."Oh, I'll provide the cookies." she reached into her drawer, lightly shaking the treats.

I giggled, stretching as I stood. Some of my bones cracked, releasing the tension slightly. As I walked to the staff room, I took in my surroundings, the same things I saw everyday. A majority of the desks were empty, dust collecting on top of them and the computers. When the snap happened, we only realised how many of us were really gone when we arrived at work; a lot of people said the same thing across the world, and in schools. Family and friends would come in and out for a week, collecting their loved ones belongings. Those of us who were left watching couldn't help but have survivors guilt. After the desks were empty, we were all grouped together, so we weren't scattered about, so that we weren't lonely.

Josh was already stood at the coffee machine, grabbing his mug. We smiled at each other, him offering me the same drink. I added two mugs next to his, leaning back against the counter.

"I can't wait for this day to be over." he groaned.

"Two more hours. Maybe they'll let us go early."

"I doubt that."

"Yeah, I don't know why I said that."

He hummed, looking down at his feet."Um, actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, uh...are you doing anything after work?"

My heart beat sped up slightly."N-nothing."

"I was just wondering if you would want to get a drink? Or even grab something to eat?"

"As...as friends?"

He hesitated, his composure slumping."If that's what you want."

I reached over and poured the drinks, not wanting to make eye contact with him.

"Is that what you were asking though?"

"It doesn't matter now."

"It kinda does. It's gonna bug me all day otherwise-"

"Just forget it, please-"

"Josh, just tell me. Were you asking me out? On a date?"

"Yes, I was."

"OK."

"OK? That's it?"

"Yes. Look, Josh I'm sorry, but I don't think I can date right now."

"I know it's hard. But maybe this is what you need, to move on."

"What if I don't want to move on?"

"Why stay stuck in the past when you can live for now? I know everything is still a shit hole but....but they won't come back."

"How do you know? They will come back."

"You don't know that."

"Something will bring them back. What it is, I don't know, when will it happen, it could be another five, ten or how ever many years! Josh, I see you as a friend, a good one, so let's forget this conversation."

I picked up the mugs, storming as quickly as I could with two piping hot coffees. Shelly saw my frown as I set down her mug, offering me the cookies first.

"What happened in those ten minutes you were gone?" she asked.

"Josh asked me out."

"Really? What did you say?"

"No, obviously."

"Oh."

"Oh? What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I thought that it would be good for you to get out, even if it is with Josh."

"I have a boyfriend."

"(Y/N)-"

"I know he's gone. But I feel like I would be cheating."

"What if he never comes back?"

"Why is everyone so doubtful?"

"We're not doubtful, we're realistic."

I huffed."Well if it means I'm alone forever then let it be. I've only ever loved one man and that's Sam."

And I'll use you as a makeshift gauge Of how much to give and how much to take I'll use you as a warning sign That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind

I couldn't believe my ears. Time travel? It could be done? Was this it? Was this the opportunity we were waiting for? Sure, one of my theories was going back in time to change everything, but then I scrapped that, my only basis being on old films. Unfortunately, Scott wasn't too sure himself, and we only knew one other man that could help us.

Climbing out of the car, I couldn't help but sigh at the beautiful house by the lake. I had been here a few times, but not for over a year now. Leaving the Avengers base was a just too difficult. As we walked up the steps, Tony stepped out, looking pissed that we were there. He wasn't anymore happy when we told him why we arrived unannounced.

"Do you really expect me to help? Where have you all been?" he snapped.

Everyone bowed their heads in guilt.

"I've got my family now. I could lose it all if we did this."

"But what about those who need their family back?" I croaked out, trying not to get angry.

"I get it, I really do, you're all missing your friends and family, I am too. But I can't chance it."

"Tony, please-"

"You do realise you've come all the way here to ask me for something that I don't want to do. What have you guys done for me? (Y/N), you haven't visited in a while."

"You know, it's kind of hard to get out nowadays. It takes everything in me to even get to work. I can't live in my apartment anymore, there's too many things that remind me of Sam!"

Before the argument could continue, the door opened, Tony's little girl running to him. He picked her up as soon as she was near enough.

"Mommy says I needed to rescue you." Morgan said.

"I'm rescued." he mumbled back."You're welcome to stay for dinner, we'll set up-”

"No Tony." Steve decided."We need to do this. This could bring everyone back."

"And if it doesn't?" he was met with silence."That's what I thought."

Everyone parted, looking defeated. Before he disappeared inside, I caught up with Tony.

"Tony, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. It's just...I was really hoping this would work."

"I know, I think you all were."

We had to try, Tony was extremely smart but we had Bruce now. Yet here Scott stood, telling me the plan and science behind it; well, Bruce was anyway.

Scott stood in a white and red jumpsuit, waiting for Bruce to make the final adjustments to the experiment. I was nervous. This had never been done, we didn’t know the implications. Scott was brave to volunteer himself, as the rest of us stood back to watch; especially as Bruce himself didn’t know if it would work.

“Scott,” Bruce caught his attention,“I’m gonna send you back a week, let you walk around for an hour, then bring you back in ten seconds. Make sense?”

Scott put his helmet on.“Perfectly not confusing.”

“Good luck Scott,” Steve lightened the mood,“you got this.”

“You’re right, I do Captain America.”

And just like that he was sucked into the back of his van. Bruce counted down to bring him back, and I could feel my heart beating in my chest. Was this really going to work? Had we done it? After a quick ten seconds he was back, but not as himself. He was a teenager, though still himself; then as an old man, then as a baby, before finally returning as himself. I sighed, storming out of the room. I was an idiot to believe that this could work. Maybe everyone else was right, it was time to face reality, the reality that we could do nothing to save the day, Thanos had finally defeated us.

“Take it Doctor Who didn’t turn out the way you planned?” Tony startled me as he walked into the room.

“Tony, what are you doing here?” I couldn’t help but hug him, relieved to see him.

“Well, I figured out time travel, and I knew I had to come and help.”

“Tony, are you serious?”

“Yes.” he looked displeased with his decision.

“I know you’re risking it all, you’ve got your ending, I understand. And I’m extremely grateful that you’re helping.”

“We don’t even know if this will change anything.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re risking it all just for us.”

“(Y/N), you’re not gonna like this, but I’m only doing this on the condition that you leave the base.”

“Why? What if they come back-”

“If it goes wrong, I can’t have you getting hurt. I won’t have that on my mind.”

“So I have to sit around and wait?”

“Yes. I’m sorry but I won’t be able to concentrate with you around, I’ll be too worried.”

I sighed, ending up reluctantly agreeing to his terms. I couldn’t be selfish. I would be the first to know if it worked, they would contact me, I knew that. But the thought of waiting around...I had done too much of that already.

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be Right in front of me Talk some sense to me

As I swallowed the pain killer tablets, I leaned against the counter top, closing my eyes. For some reason I had come back to my apartment, the one I shared with Sam. I wasn’t going to wait at a friend’s house, they might ask questions and I didn’t think it was a good idea to answer them. But I hadn’t been back here in a while, having to go through the pain of reliving every memory of Sam was too hard. But now I was here. Maybe I was waiting for him to come back today, or maybe I would be waiting for him to come back for the rest of my life.

I found myself cleaning the entire place, trying to put my focus on it. It was so dusty, and I wanted to avoid dusting the pictures, to not look back at our happier moments, but I faced it none the less. Cleaning went by way too quickly, even though I had tried to go as slow as possible. God, I was going crazy.

A couple of days passed by, and I had annoyingly called the team every day, multiple times. I knew I wasn’t helping, but they didn’t have the heart to ignore me or even hang up the phone. It wasn’t just updates on the time travel, I wanted to make sure they were still OK, that they were looking after themselves. I certainly wasn’t.

However, there was one day where they didn’t answer. Had they done it? Were they time travelling right now? It was killing me to not know what was happening, especially when they hadn’t answered for so long. I was staring at the window, noticing that the sun was now setting, another day slowly gone by. Just as I went to call them again, there was a knock at the door. Without even thinking about it, I slumped towards it, hoping one of my neighbours didn’t want a catch up.

“S-Sam?” I whispered as I laid my eyes on him.

He was in a stealth suit, one that he wore under his armour, covered in dust and blood. His eyes were slightly widened, breath heavy as we continued staring at each other. Sam reacted before I did, swooping down to grab me in his arms, holding me as close as he could to his body. After a few seconds of stiffness, I quickly held onto him, clutching at his clothes as if he would vanish again.

“You’re here, y-you’re actually here!” I sobbed loudly, my brain having a hard time processing this.

“I’m back, and I ain’t ever leaving, never!” he exclaimed.

I pulled him into the apartment, but all we did was continue to hold each other, long, passionate kisses being shared.

“Everyone was wrong, I knew you would come back. They all doubted it, said to move on. But I knew, I knew-”

Sam interrupted my rambling.“All I could think about was you, throughout the fight I just wanted to get it done, to get back to you.”

“Fight? What fight?”

He shook his head.“Doesn’t matter.”

“It definitely does, are you injured?”

Sam kissed me to shut me up, running his hands down my arms to hold my own. We kept eye contact as he knelt to the floor, and I couldn’t help but gasp.

“(Y/N), I know this isn’t romantic, and this sure ain’t the way I wanted to do this, I don’t even have a ring. But I know that you’re the one for me. You’ve stayed by my side throughout everything, despite all the danger I’ve put you through, all the shit that’s come our way, you’ve always been able to face it, and make everything better. After finding out that I’ve been away for five years, I don’t want to ever out you through that again. (Y/N), I love you, will you marry me?”

If I wasn’t sobbing before, I definitely was now. He was beaten up, straight off the battlefield, and yet this was his priority. I had waited five years, held onto the hope that he would come back to me, and here he was, taking the next step in our relationship. I frantically nodded my head, smiling as Sam did. He stood and slowly kissed me.

“I love you Sam.” I managed to get out.

“I love you. I won’t ever let something like that happen to us again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

#sam wilson #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson imagines #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel one shot #marvel x reader #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #avengers one shot #avengers x reader #marvel cinematic universe #marvel comics

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badsext · 5 years

Note

idk if you're still taking requests but i'd love some more robert/klaus smut bc i think i've read all there is up to date lol, was thinking something hella dirty with a the reader being british, also bonus if it ends with someone else walking in on them ;)))

Kitchen Heat: Robert Sheehan x Female Reader

Thanks for the request, anon! Requests and comments make me so happy! I hope you enjoy!

Words: ~1800

Warnings: It’s pretty smutty :)

After years of culinary school and working as a sous chef in some of the top restaurants in the UK, you decided to move to Los Angeles to open your own restaurant. The concept: classic British comfort foods updated to suit the health conscious and eclectic millennial palate. You had recently been graced with a glowing four star write up in Food and Wine magazine which created quite a buzz. It also drew the attention of your celebrity obsession, Robert Sheehan. You’d been a devoted fan ever since Misfits.

The first time he came in the place was jammed! Your staff struggled to keep up with the demand, but you didn’t want to turn anyone away. The host seated Robert and his friends at a table far enough away from the kitchen to be considered a good table, but close enough that you had sight lines through the narrow kitchen window. You observed him talking and gesturing enthusiastically with his friends, imagining what he might be saying about your food. Whatever it was, he looked pleased and your heart swelled with excitement.

That’s when Kim, the waitress came back into the kitchen saying, “Robert wants to meet the chef.” You nearly had to pick yourself off the floor at the news.

“Tell them I’ll see them straight away,” you said, imitating confidence. You ran back to the loo to put yourself together. Working in a busy kitchen has a way of making you look like you’ve been running a marathon through a food fight. You took off your apron, restyled your bun and applied a bit of powder to manage the shine. You looked in the mirror and smiled sarcastically at your reflection. This was about as good as it was going to get without a shower and a change of clothes. You bravely walked out to the dining room for Roberts critique.

He smiled and got up from the table when he saw you. He started clapping and his friends joined. It was surreal. The blush heated your cheeks. You took a little bow in response.

“Y/N, this food is…I can’t describe it…In tastes like the past and the future. It’s delicious. I love it.,” he said, gesturing wildly with his hands.

You laughed. “Wow, thank you, Robert…I don’t know what to say.“ You really didn’t.

You sat down for a few minutes to chat with the group. Kim brought you a glass of wine, turned away from Robert, her eyes wide, mouthing the words ‘oh my god.’ You tried so desperately to act casual at first until you actually did feel at ease with your new friends. Robert was so warm and kind. He had so many questions. You tried to learn about his current project but he kept bringing the conversation back to the restaurant and the food. He was really enthusiastic.

You soon realized that you were needed back in the kitchen, so you excused yourself and went back to your frazzled kitchen staff. Your memory of those moments with Robert would be etched into your brain forever. Now it was back to reality, whisking and chopping, searing and garnishing tall, savory dishes long into the night.

A few weeks later Robert returned to the restaurant. He was alone this time. It was odd seeing a celebrity dining alone. He ordered the beef wellington and a glass of red. He was reading something. A script maybe? Kim came back to tell you that he had tipped her a hundred bucks, said he wanted to camp out at the table for the rest of the night. "I think he’s waiting for you,” she said gently digging her elbow into your ribs.

Your heart started pumping at double speed. Maybe he was interested in you. God knows you had been fantasizing about him for nearly a decade. After meeting the real Robert, maybe those fantasies weren’t so crazy after all. It looked like he was actually a fan of yours. That realization lit a spark in you as you swaggered out into the dining room and up to Robert’s table, sliding into the booth across from him. “Hello, Robert.”

He dropped his script, clearly flustered. “Y/N, you surprised me!”

“You came back.”

“Well, the food is amazing and I think I’ve got a thing for the chef,” he said with a shy smile.

“A thing, you say? Let’s explore that, shall we?” You looked down at your watch. "The restaurant closes in twenty minutes. I could give you a private tour of the kitchen, then we can hit the pub or something."

"Yes! I like this plan,” he said grinning.

You spent the next twenty minutes in a daze of growing anticipation. You made stupid little mistakes trying to manage the final clean up and prep for the next day. The cooks and sous chef were headed for the pub. They asked if you’d be joining them. You mumbled something noncommittal and focused on pulling yourself together. You were now just seconds away from being alone with Robert.

“Everyone’s gone. Come with me,” you said, grabbing his hand, surprising yourself with your boldness. The touch of his skin sent electricity to your brain and back down to the heat between your legs.

The overhead lights were off and pilot light from the stove cast a gentle glow when you entered the kitchen. Robert stepped in close to you, still holding your hand. "I’ve had everything on your menu. His head tilted slightly and his gorgeous green eyes looked deeper into yours. “Is there something else I can try?”

You smiled, acknowledging the innuendo, but decided it would be more fun to tease him. “I’ve got a new desert I’m working on. It’s a bit like classic trifle, but I’ve added an American twist. You went over to the walk-in and returned with your latest experiment. Robert leaned forward curiously, tucking a wayward curl behind his ear. He watched intently while you assembled the sponge cake, fresh berries, and cream. "Let’s see if you can guess the secret ingredient.” You dipped a strawberry in the cream and slowly brought it up to his lips. He opened his mouth and devoured it sensually, closing his eyes then moaned softly and exhaled. God, everything this man does is erotic, you thought as you watched him swallow the desert. You inched closer until your lips were a few centimeters from his. “Bourbon,” you whispered. “It’s the secret ingredient.”

“I didn’t have a chance to guess,” he laughed. You studied his long, curly lashes as he blinked. In what felt like slow motion, his lips finally met yours. You drew a suddenly necessary breath in through your nose, wondering if this was real. He slid his hands up around the back of your neck and gently slid his tongue into your mouth. You tasted the lingering sweetness from the strawberry and creme as your tongue mingled with his. You hooked your arms around his waist. He pressed his body to yours. Even through your double breasted, heat resistant chef’s coat you could feel his stiff cock pressed against you.

His hands slid down to the buttons of your coat. He managed the first few, then became frustrated. He pulled away from the kiss with an audible wet smack. “So may buttons,” he lamented with furrowed brows. You giggled and finished the job, removing the coat. Your clingy T-shirt was damp with sweat. You cringed for a second, worried that would kill the mood, but quite the opposite happened. Robert was intoxicated by your scent. He kissed your damp neck, peeled the T-shirt up over your head, then removed his own. His smooth chest and lean muscles took your breath away.

You thought for a second about the fact that this was happening in your kitchen. You were about to break every rule in the book, but that just excited you more. Besides, you’d sanitize the whole goddam place in the morning anyway.

You hooked your index finger into Robert’s ridiculously low waistband. You heard the anticipation in his breath. He grabbed your wrist, and turned your hand over in his so he could softly kiss your palm. “Not yet,” he said. You started walking toward the empty stainless steel prep table, looking back at him over your shoulder. He grabbed your hips and positioned himself behind you, answering your non verbal question. Then he kissed your back and shoulder blades as you unclasped your bra. His wet kisses sent shudders down your spine. He cupped your breasts and gently pinched your nipples while grinding his cock against the small of your back.

Your pussy was already soaked when you both started feverishly wrestling with your pants. You kicked off your shoes and Robert took care of the rest. You stood before him naked but for your socks. He gave you a boost up onto the table, your knees spread apart. You leaned forward placing both palms down in front of you. Robert’s hands grabbed two handfuls of your ripe ass. You whimpered when he ran his fingers up and down your wet slit, then gasped when he eased them inside you.

You were about to get off on his fingers alone when he slowly pulled them out and replaced them with his mouth. His lips and tongue explored every part of you from your clit to your asshole and back again. He made swirling rhythmic motions that made you twitch and moan until you came like an earthquake.

Rob guided you down off the table until your feet were back on the ground and gently bent you over. Then he slid his cock inside you, bucking his hips until he was as deep as it would go. He grabbed your hips and began grinding and thrusting. Your nipples grazed against the cold stainless steel table with every movement, adding to your pleasure. Just as you were rounding the corner to your second orgasm the lights flicked on. You shrieked.

“Oh shit!” Kim screamed and shielded her eyes with her hand like you do in the bright sun. You and Rob tried to cover up the best you could, using your hands as fig leaves. Kim laughed nervously. “Well, you two…keep calm, carry on,” she mumbled and turned to go, forgetting why she came back in the first place. “My phone”…she reached awkwardly for the object on the counter… “forgot my phone.” Then she bolted for the door. As soon as she was gone you both burst out laughing.

“Y/N, I don’t mean to sound forward, but would you like to come over to my place?”

You laughed and nodded. "That sounds lovely, Rob.”

Want more?

@moorehollandplz @helena-way07 @turtlease @zohrayoung @vices-brendon @fangirl110603 @addan-anye @wow4stories @clockworkchild @isabellagiron@lilim13 @becka1703 @this-bitch-actually @ineffablecrowley666 @tootsie-noodels @ohyoubringmejoy @yeetskeetbuddy @klaushollandyoung

#robert sheehan smut #robert sheehan imagine #robert sheehan #klaus hargreeves #tua #nathan young #robert sheehan x reader

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polygamyff · 5 years

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24. Part 8

I feel like I am in a twilight zone with everything going on, this cannot be real life. Something inside is just urging me to get up, I’m not sure if it’s the fact I know Maurice is in my mind, knowing my man loves his dad and would be heartbroken to know this happened or to see the satisfaction on Marquis’ siblings faces, that is what I don’t want. I shot up from my seat, my heart is telling me to go and see and that is because Maurice is my heart, I don’t want him to know I stayed back either. There is so much evil happening “Robyn?” Leon ran behind me “what is it?” He asked “just watch the people that care and the people reaping this moment, the two heirs just dying, I need to do my bit” seeing the crowd around what is happening “can you all move away! This is not a show!” I shouted, all eyes were on me. Pushing by them “move now” there is already three nurses around him “is he going to be ok?” Shawn asked, looking down at his dad and I had to look away and it wasn’t so much of because of the hate but because I know how much Maurice loves him, I do think this was stress of all the lies and deceit and hurt he has caused. I think this could be cause of a broken heart and added stress, stepping back away from the scene “what are you doing friend?” Leon said in a whisper “just stepping back from the situation, give him CPR” I spoke, I mean she has calmed him down but she needs to give him CPR because I am not about to do it “I guess y’all got the show you all wanted” looking over at Kellen, slowly by slowly this family is breaking apart “what do you know about my son?” Kellen’ dad spoke up “enough to know this pleases you both now move because they need to get him on a bed” stepping to the side across from them “who are you?” he asked “why don’t you ask your son? I mean he has been speaking to the blogs, haven’t you” Kellen hates me so much “he is Maurice’ secret bitch that ended pregnant” I expected that, letting out a gasp as Shawn punched him out of nowhere “right! There is too much family here, you need to all leave!” Rachel done snapped “you stressing everyone out, now please. Robyn who should be here” I started pointing out the people “I will call security, you need to leave and don’t come back” Kellen is once again holding his face “Shawn, leave it please. This is a mess” it’s a mess and I can’t believe half the shit that is happening.

“Imagine that, Maurice and Marquis wake up and they are next to each other, let’s hope not. Maurice will probably fall out of bed from the sight” Shawn laughed at the thought “on a real Maurice will probably think he is dreaming if that happened and will get scared” my eyes feel dry, I am very tired “how come he is scared? He is an old man? Like Maurice seems like a child with him, the man is not nice right?” Leon asked “respect, all of his kids respect him. Maybe it’s out of fear but that respect remained and never left them. I always said it to Maurice, I have known him years, been through the shits. We fell out over it, your father needs you. I said it to him, he doesn’t listen. What can you do when the man showed love to him, Maurice is like his life. It’s weird crazy, in a way Maurice could control him but because he loved him, that is why he is so much so scared of him” seeing Nalah, Malik and Joy walk into the room, they look ever so sad “how is your dad?” I had to ask, Nalah shook her head “they are not saying, this is like hell” getting up from the seat “I am sorry” hugging Nalah “did they not say anything at all?” I am all cried out or I would have just cried with them “no, nothing. They both are the only ones that know everything. My uncles will crush us, we can’t lose them both” this is so fucked up “I will try and find something out ok?” I said to Nalah, I will see if I can find anything out “that is my department so I am sure I will” this seems like hell with everything going on.

Jay walked behind me, I shouldn’t even be here. I should be enjoying my time off at home with my child, but here I am. There is not really much staff around because there has been an emergency which is now Maurice’ dad and also it’s late at night, not much staff around “wait here” I said to Jay, swiping my keycard and dragging open the door. Just my luck “you came here to work extra hours now?” I chuckled but it was so fake “well uhm you could say Mario but no, I have been here for two days now. My fiancé is going through a Sickle Cell crisis so yeah, I am here. I just kind of remembered, I left something in my locker too” Mario cooed out “I am so sorry, I didn’t know but wow. You look amazing, I miss the waddling to surgery, I can’t wait for you to come back. Then you can be my head surgeon and boss me around and then you can allow us to put some Migos on during surgery, they so boring around here but anyways, I need to go. Some emergency came up, nice to see you” thank god, I want to go “same, see you soon Mario” walking off, only thing I want to see is the board. It’ been long enough and the board should have been updated with what is going on, if not then I’ll need to log on to the system. The board is looking extra full, staring down the bottom “bingo” they updated it, Marquis Davenport. They are doing surgery now actually “serious heart attack then” I said to myself.

Before going back in the room I called my mom, even though it’s late I just miss my daughter “I find it is a blessing, you are gaining some powers. How can Reign cry and then a minute later you call? I told you, you are so connected to your soul, your feelings that you feel things, didn’t I say that to you” my smile grew because my mom has said that to me “you did mom, I am just missing Reign so much. I have not really bonded with my daughter at all, she’s going to be a month and I have yet to spend a full week with her, it’s depressing me” I am feeling it, I am just not feeling good “Robbie, I know. This is so hard on you” I am not going to cry, I am not doing it “and now Maurice’ dad has had a heart attack mom, what the fuck is happening? Why is shit being thrown this way, I didn’t want to go near the situation but something was pushing me towards it, I just think of Maurice. I didn’t want him to wake up knowing his dad died so I was there, just seeing if they was doing ok. I am just fed up, I want my daughter. I am not enjoying this mom” I am breaking down now, I can’t do it “stop it, you’re tired. You go home and sleep, listen to me now. I want you to kiss Maurice and go home, sleep. Maurice is stable right?” maybe it is because I am tired “he is but I got to be here” I am just feeling like shit, my pouch is missing a baby and I don’t even have her with me, this hurts “no, you’re no use. Go home and sleep, then you can focus on things. Listen to mommy now” I had to giggle at the mommy part.

Stifling out a yawn before I walked inside the room “I just checked, there should be someone around to tell you but with late night staff there is not many of them. It does look like he’s had a bad heart attack, he’s in surgery now. They are doing coronary angioplasty, it’s a procedure to widen the blockage. This is something that needs to be dome without waiting around. It’s not a difficult surgery to me, he will be around tomorrow morning and be able to leave after twenty four hours depending on how he is. Hopefully that will keep you all ok, Leon. I am going home, Shawn update me. I need to sleep” my mind is about to explode “Robyn, thank you” Nalah said “it’s ok” turning around to leave the room “I am going to stay with my mother once Chris is out, I am going to kill him when he wakes up” I said to myself walking out of the room “that bad?” Jay said, he heard me but I swear I whispered it “look at me, I feel like I have done twenty four hours in this place” I just need some shut eye, gather myself.

#chrianna #chrianna ff #fanfic #fanfiction

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chickennoodlesoupfortae · 5 years

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Backstage Love p3

A/n- Welcome to part three when it all goes down. This took me forever and I won’t be updating this series for at least the next week. Mentions of Jungkook. Who doesn’t love a love triangle? I hope you enjoy and someone please request something! Enjoy, like, and comment.

Summary- What have the past two weeks been like? Where to start, falling for someone you shouldn’t, working a job you shouldn’t have, and being away from your family well that’s a recipe for disaster. Just when you think your heart has had enough another man walks into the scene.

Word count- 2.1k

Warnings- Fluff and what that entails

p1 p2

The roar of the crowd consumed the understage you were hidden behind.

“We can’t be doing this tae.” you sighed into his ear as his kisses found a home in your neck

“We can though.” he looked into your eyes and began to kiss you again

“(y/n) can you please come to grab us some coffee for the manager's suite. Thank you doll” your pager snapped you back to reality

“Fuck not again,” you mutter to yourself as you push away the fantasy that had previously consumed your thoughts. You walk out of the break room and into the pantry. Grabbing a few travel cups you began to brew the coffee and turning on the kettle.

“Let me hold you (Y/N)” his soft voice whispered a beg into your ears

“I want you to hold me in your arms and call you mine” you replied as your mouth found his. Your hands travelled down his back pulling him into an embrace. The sound of the crowd overpowered the sweet nothings you both confessed in the moment. A beeping sound broke the silent atmosphere in a loud setting you both had created.

“What is that Tae?” you asked him looking away

“Nothing baby let me kiss you more.”

“But that sound what is it?”

“Shit there we go again,” you exclaimed pulled out of your daydream by the coffee machine. Your badge dangled from your neck as you poured out the black liquid into five cups adding milk and sugar to two and keeping the other three black. You grabbed an extra cup and filled it with the water you had put to boil and grabbed a tea bag. You walked out of the pantry with a cup holder and six cups of hot liquid.

You had learned how to navigate most stadiums after working at three of them in the past two weeks. It was the day before the concert and the hall was empty except for staff and the performers. The white concrete walls outlined the entire stadium causing the halls to look creepy and slightly scary. It was ten pm and most of the lights were off. The air was humid and icky due to the hot temperature of the location. It was hard to keep a good outlook on your situation because it wasn’t like you choose or applied for it. You just had to do it. Missing the people in your life was the hardest part. You could rarely call home for two reasons. One, the workday was incredibly long. Two, every time you called your mother yelled at you or your friends ranted about how jealous they were or how they missed you. Making calls home an overall stressful experience.

On the first night alone you had barely slept at all. You had gotten out of the hotel bed and walked around the halls. You tried your hardest not to think of that night because it was one where you wanted to go home so badly. Thinking about it made you want to sleep in your bed and hang out with your friends and… it was too much to think about. Once again you were lost in your head and unaware of your surroundings.

“Why does this always happen.” you groaned looking at the darkened hallway. You kept on walking forward in hopes of finding a sign which could give you a clue to where you were. You began to get scared it was such a dark venue and there were so many hidden halls and you were all alone. Your paranoia was getting the best of you. That’s when you saw a tall shadow come up behind you. You tried not to scream and snuck a peek behind you seeing no one.

“Boo.” a familiar voice said

“Aghhhh,” you screamed almost dropping the burning liquid. “Taehyung you almost made me spill-” you started

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me tae?” he asked you with his boxy smile.

“Sorry.” you looked down. “Do you know how I can get to the manager's office from here?” you asked him “Wait aren’t you supposed to be there now?”

“Ugh, I forgot. Yes. Here let me help you with one of those trays.” he took the heavier one of your hands.

“Here this one is for you.” you pointed to the tea.

“Oh, you remembered I don’t like coffee. I’m touched.” he did a dramatic fake cry

You looked down feeling yourself blush.

“Just around the corner.” he walked in front of you. “And the managing suite.” he exclaimed opening the door for you.

That’s when you went into super assistant mode.

“I have two regular coffees for Ken and Janise.” you grabbed the coffees and handed them away. “I also have three black coffees for Megan, Susan, and you Ma’am.” you weren’t quite sure where the nickname had come from but your boss insisted on only going by ma’am. You grabbed the three other coffees off of Tae’s tray handing them away to their owner. “And last but not least one cup of green tea decaf with no sugar.” you took the cup out of the tray he was holding and then handed it to him taking the tray away. “That’s all would anyone like anything else.” you picked up the empty container you had placed on the table stacking the two of them together. The room remained quiet. “Well if you need anything please let me know.” You closed the door behind you. It had taken you a total of twenty-eight seconds to finish the distribution, a personal record.

With that over you began to head back to the main area deciding to take your first break all day. The emptiness felt cosy now. Somehow, it was completely different than what you had felt only ten minutes prior. You felt yourself start to smile uncontrollably. “He opened the door for me.” you did a twirl in the empty hall. Then you realized what was happening and your twirl stopped midway. “No. This is- no.” you put on your best stern face and walked up the stairs leading out of the hall.

This is how it had been for the past two weeks. Somehow you and him would find each other in the craziness of traveling and preforming and share moments together. It was only with him. You hadn’t spoken to any of the other members for more than three second let alone the make up artists. That made it more lonely since you knew no one and where the only person in your branch. But every time you shared moments with him it made it more bearable.

‘What if I do feel like this. Why do I feel like this? Wow was that basic (y/n) falling for a boy band member. Eww, get a grip of yourself your not a thirteen-year-old girl.’ you scoffed out loud to your thoughts. You continued to the next staircase. ‘Even if I was- and that’s a big if -it’s not like it would ever work. So what I’m hearing is that we don’t like him. We don’t like’ you cringed at the thought of his name. You got onto the next flight of stairs. ‘He would never like me. Why would he ever like me? He did open that door and did you see that smile.’ your thoughts were going wild again. You got onto the next flight of stairs without thinking. ‘No he’s just being nice. He’s a nice guy.’ you felt a smile creep onto your face ‘he’s just so nice why is he so-’ you giggled.

“Did I just giggle,” you asked yourself the realization snapping you out of thought. “Where am I? How do I get lost so easily? This must be a personal record.” you muttered. You walked through the enclosed space seeing no other stairs to take. You walked through the opening and were greeted by a big gust of wind. “Holy shit,” you screamed. You began walking down the stairs. “How did I get up so high?” you were in the nosebleeds of the stadium. The air was cold and the fall was huge. It’s not that you were scared of heights it’s just that it was almost eleven pm and you were all alone. “It’s like I’m asking to be killed.” you half-joked to yourself.

“Yeah it’s not very safe to be here all alone,” someone responded

you screamed. Twice in one night you had been scared by an unknown person

“Calm down. I’m not going to kill you.” a man's voice said in between laughs.

You turned around to see Jungkook or how you referred to him as your seventh boss. “Oh I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, I thought I was alone.” you gave a fake laugh accompanied with an equally as fake smile.

“It’s no problem. I’m the bad one here. I heard a giggle and I followed the sound.” he scratched the back of his neck.

You were taken aback by his friendly tone. Similar to- no you didn’t even think that name. “Oh yeah that was me.” you laughed. “I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air and I think I wondered a little too far.” you turned your back to him and sat down at the front row.

“Do you mind if I sit with you,” he asked walking down.

“Not at all.” you lied. This was your first conversation with another member in the two weeks you had been working with them. The whole situation gave you anxiety.

Both of you sat in silence. You looked below you onto the thousands of other seats. It made you dizzy thinking about how all of these would be filled.

“So what do you do here?” he asked while looking at the badge you were wearing. “(y/n).”

“I’m an intern/personal assistant to your assistant,” you replied

“Oh, how come I haven’t seen you around then?”

“I usually get the stuff for her and then she gives them to you or whoever needs them so I usually don’t come in contact with the recipients, in this case, you.” you didn’t look to your side but you felt him looking at you.

“That’s a shame,” he responded

‘Is he flirting?’ you wondered ‘No wait this isn’t a fantasy he’s just being nice.’ “Yeah I guess.” you looked over mustering the courage. His eyes were shiny and sweet, his hair was fluffy and slightly long. He was so gorgeous but for some reason, all you could think about was how much you wished Tae would look into your eyes for as long as you are now.

“So how are you liking the touring life so far?” he broke eye contact and looked forward prompting you to do the same.

“It’s been nice kinda lonely though. How about you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“The same except it’s not so much as lonely but more isolated in the abundance of company.” you could sense the emotion in his words.

“I get that.” you both continued staring now in silence. You looked up at all the stars. The sky was surprisingly clear allowing for the view to be beautiful. “I bet all those stars feel the same.” you pointed up.

He didn’t look up “I’m sure they do.”

The sound of your pager broke the haze you were both in.

“Hi (y/n) come in. (y/n) come in.” you heard the static come again signalling for you to respond.

“Hi yes this is she,” you said pressing and then un-pressing the button.

“We need you on ground level with some papers I left in the office for the arrangement of some seats.”

“On it boss,” you responded.

You stood up. “It was nice meeting you. Jungkook right?” you asked just realizing you never asked his name

“Yes. I hope I see you around some time (y/n)” and with that you excuse yourself

You took the elevator down to the ground level with the papers in hand.

The floor was surprisingly bustling with staff members this late in the night. You spotted your boss as she spotted you.

“Doll. Thank you so much. Please get me another round of coffee and then you can head to the hotel and rest.” she gave you a pleading smile.

“One round of coffee coming up.” you smiled

With the coffee delivered and the papers given, you arrived at the hotels provided for staff in the outskirts of the town. You laid down in the crappy mattress with dust flying in and around you. You let out a big scream.

“I don’t like him.” you didn’t even know who you were talking about anymore.

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james-bucky-barnackle · 6 years

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Space Between Us (Part 2)

Synopsis: Set in an alternate universe, Y/N and Bucky have been best friends since forever, but sometimes being friends is just not enough. What happens when all of a sudden, your closeness suddenly gets separated by a space you two created yourselves because you were both afraid to face the music?

~ PART 1 ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2700

A/N: This is straight up a romcom, also I’m sorry for posting an update on this fic late - and suddenly writing other stuff lmao. This part also centers around y/n but it’s setting up something interesting for the next

2: You become him: 2 years apart

It’s been 2 years since I’ve got settled in and a month since Bucky last visited. He brought pizza and we spent the whole afternoon binge-watching Kitchen Nightmares. It sounds weird when I think about it, but I can’t explain how it happened. Everything was back to normal, well not normal-normal but enough to seem like it was better than the situation we were under months before. Here we were throwing crusts at the screen laughing like idiots whenever one of the restaurant owners would get slammed hard by Ramsay. We were like how we always were, maybe moving out turned out to be a good decision. Not seeing each other every day helped a lot with piecing our friendship back together at least for my side of things – I mean I was the only one trapped in a one-sided love affair. It felt healthy, Bucky came by once every other month and when he couldn’t he’d call me on the phone and tell me about his life before inquiring about mine. Most people would think I’m stupid for still hanging out with him, but even I couldn’t understand how I can’t simply drop him. The world may shake to the extreme and he’ll still be rooted on the ground ready to hold me, and I would be too. This is progress, you know? We’re not living in the same place anymore, we don’t see each other every day, and I’m slowly getting used to living on my own without him, with him just being on the sidelines. He’s just part of the bigger picture now, and not the whole thing. He probably made it easier for me, I knew how much he resisted asking me to let him stay over whenever he’d drop by or how he’d always try to keep our phone calls at a minimum. He gave me space for something he didn’t even know the reason to why I needed it.

The loft looks a lot like a home now, I’ve gotten way too much pillows for the bed and the couch that they’re pretty much scattered around the place, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was one at the bathroom, it’s disgusting but that’s an accurate representation of just how much pillows I’ve got. One of the two bedrooms I have, I’ve made into an office, with a huge cork board in front of my table. I like facing the wall and not the door, I get scared very easily so, it’s best I don’t face that direction. I’ve pasted photos of me and well – Bucky. I’ve got a couple of stupid awards pinned on the wall too, I should get frames for those. I look at the clock and it says eleven.

“Shit!”, I say scurrying as I pull my coat out and look for my keys before heading out and closing the door behind me. New day, new restaurant, new thing to write about. It’s a long story how I came to be a food critic but it’s something I enjoy and get by. Being a writer, I’ve had so many jobs where I wrote things I didn’t give a damn about, and when I started writing about cuisine (which is still a word I can’t take seriously), and everyone believing what I wrote on paper, I raised my eyebrows, gave it a once over, and said “this is it, this is what I’m doing”, well until I grow tired of it, but it’s been 6 years and I’m still at it. Talk about my being devoted. I get out of the building and a black range rover starts blasting its horn.

“Alright! Alright, I’m here. I didn’t hear my alarm go off okay?”, I say as I get on the passenger’s seat. I turn behind me and throw my bag, hearing clutter clash inside of it.

“If it weren’t for the free food I get whenever I join you in your escapades, I would’ve been long gone with the handsome valet guy from the hotel next door”, George grins at me. I peek at the window to see who he was talking about, the guy working at the valet, with brown hair and tanned skin, muscles obviously taken care of, seeing as how it was nearly popping out his uniform.

“Gosh, don’t you think it’s too early for some sexy role play? He’s clearly lost George, I wouldn’t trust him with my car”, raising my eyebrows, a chuckle escaping from my mouth. That guy was clearly not a valet. George hits the gas and we we’re on our way to Casa Manila, a Philippine restaurant in Manhattan.

I’ve gotten 10 hours of sleep, but I’m still tired. George is telling me a story about how his neighbor Matilda couldn’t smell his disdain for her, seeing as how she obviously had the hots for him. If I hadn’t met him during an office party with Ben from accounting and his mouth all over his neck, I’d have the hots for him too, I mean, his English accent would’ve sent my undies flying. “Well maybe if you start bringing boys to the apartment, she’d take a hint”. I say as I put my shades on and drift to sleep.

A few minutes later, we were at the reception of the restaurant, where the statuesque blonde host quickly ushered us to our seat when she found out who I was. The interior was a tropical paradise, traditional in a sense, but a huge contrast from the concrete jungle outside. Light beige covered the walls, weaved chairs were present, never thought they would look like a million bucks but I guess they made it work. I always thought they’d look cheap and itchy but I was just in awe of how the light shines through the huge windows onto the tables and chairs looking bright and welcoming.

“Of course, they’d give you the corner to the window”, George says as he follows to where the host pulls out a chair for me and a young lad introducing himself as our server for tonight. I grin and shake my head of course, they did. They always placed me in a place where I’d feel important but really because it’s in perfect view from the kitchen door windows to see my reaction. I thanked the host and take my time to check the menu and in minutes have chosen today’s target. Eyeing George, he’s found his too. And the waiter excuses himself to fetch our order.

The kitchen was buzzing more than ever, the waiter wrote “VIP” on the ticket in blue ink. George has been used to watching me smile when I make people nervous, or uncomfortable. It was one of my many talents. Let me tell you about George. He’s too tall for his own good, has brown wavy hair, the I-don’t-care-but-I-really-do-care type of hair, the cool guy hair, great hair. He has brown eyes, gentle eyes that would make anyone melt, he’s lean and has a long face like a Disney prince would, with dimples of course, but has got short patience. And an hour after we met at the office party I mentioned earlier, he put his arm on my shoulder loudly stating I was his ride and that we were going home with absolute conviction, after finding out Ben from accounting was married and had two kids. And I ended up driving him to the convenience store he led me to only to wait for him as he came out with a box of beer and some chips and we went straight to his place, ran up to the rooftop and stayed up all night talking about our love an hatred for men. He was home away from home. I knew then we’d be inseparable. As the appetizers we ordered came in, I felt eyes on us, and it’s not from the staff.

“I’m surprised you haven’t melted yet, that man has been glancing this way before we even looked at the menu”, He smirks placing his hand under his chin raising his right brow.

I steal a look and he’s gorgeous, he looks like he was cut straight out a Calvin Klein ad. He’s wearing an off-white suit, looking like a Ken doll with his blue eyes, blond hair and a jaw that could cut seamlessly through butter.

“Well?”, George interrupts my quick inspection. I didn’t even realize I was biting my lip, I roll my eyes at George and give him a devilish grin.

“Maybe for dessert”

“Very brave, Y/N.”

I shrug my shoulders and he laughs as I put my hand on the back of my neck to turn my head towards his direction, and when he realizes I’ve caught him looking, he shyly smiles and looks away at the instant.

“I’m going to write it as fresh, creative and confident,” the waiter hides the huge grin on his face with the tray he’s held up. He puts his hand behind his back and signals a thumb up, which makes the onlookers in the kitchen run wild. I wipe any food residue from my lips as George drinks his champagne. Today’s work was over, we had the rest of the day to ourselves, easy. Just as I put the napkin down, my phone buzzes, I look to see who it is, and its him. My eyes grow wide at George, a smile on my lips, as he shook his head at me. It’s a text message, he wants me to call when I’ve got the time he wants to tell me something important and that he’s excited about it, oh I have the time.

“Who’s got you smiling like you’re on cloud nine?” George inquires.

“It’s Bucky! My Bucky. Told me he’s in town and has something important to tell me, looks like he’s pretty excited about it” I suddenly feel stupid calling him mine.

“Remind me who?” I was ready for a little story time.

“Bucky, my best friend. We met during college and were inseparable ever since. We even lived together for three years,” I was trying to make George remember, surely I’ve told him about Bucky, right? He was still skeptical “You know, we dated once, but that really never went good for the both of us, figured we’d just be better off as friends.” I gaze into the distance and remember a funny conversation me and Bucky had when we were college students on spring break.

“We had this crazy pact when we were in college, that when we’re 28 and still unmarried, we’d just marry each other. It’s the craziest thing but we were young and stupid.” It was one of the things that you could forget but just couldn’t, it was tucked away in a happy little box of memories. George’s eyebrows perk up. I squint my eyes, what is he thinking?

“Aren’t you turning 28 in 3 weeks?” shoot, that’s true. I lift my eyebrows up to inquire where he’s getting at. “He’s in town, he’s got something important to tell you, he’s excited about it?” I wave him off, it’s probably something else, right? It’s gotta be, but I mentally kick myself for even considering the idea. It’s impossible.

“If you don’t want anything to do with him, there’s still someone who looks interested." George quickly perks his eyebrows up at me motioning to a direction where I looked to see the gorgeous blond onlooker from earlier walking to our table. I shrug back at him as he chuckles.

When I finally get back to my apartment, I pace back and forth not knowing if it was time to call Bucky back. Am I ready to call him? We’ve had conversations on the phone before, why am I feeling nervous? He’s even been here last month, so why even feel conscious about a phone call? He could be calling about a raise, or a trip… or an early birthday greeting? Fucking George, I hate him for putting the idea into my head. Why did I even let it slip out? I found myself dialing his number, biting my nail as I contemplate if I should hit call. Oh! fuck it, what do I have to lose? I’ve already lost him, I’m too old for this. He picks it up on the first ring, my heart stops, I’m smiling like an idiot.

“Hey, Y/N! I’ve missed you,” his voice made my knees buckle.

“I’m good, what about you? What’s the thing you want to tell me so badly?”

“That’s great!” I’m sitting on my bed, my heart is beating fast, what could it be? “I’ve met someone, Y/N. She’s great she’s amazing, I’m thinking of asking her to marry me, and I can’t do this without you.” I fall, a thud on the floor deafening, I almost throw my phone.

“You okay?” he asks. No, I’m not.

“Y-yeah!” I say as I get up, touching the back of my head that has hit the floor, luckily there was a pillow to catch my fall. “Bucky, don’t you think that’s way too fast? How do I not know about this? Why haven’t you told me anything about you meeting anybody?” I was being honest, there was no time to be pretending to be happy when I was clearly dumbfounded.

“I wanted to be sure before I told my best gal, I didn’t want her to be like the others,” like the others? What’s that supposed to mean? I was walking around my room hugging a throw pillow tight.

“W-when are y-you gonna propose?”

“Two weeks from now, I’ve gotta get this right, doll. I know you can help me.” There he goes calling me that, my heart is sinking, this is exactly like a chick flick.

“You’ve been with her for like what? A week?”

He laughs. “Two months, are you not even happy for me?” you bet I’m not, I’m not happy for myself either. Something resurfaces in my head, I lied, I clearly haven’t moved on yet.

“I am! I just, don’t you think it’s too soon? Two months Bucky? Gosh that’s a little fast” I laugh nervously.

“Hey,” he pauses, “I need you. You’re my best friend, why do I feel like you’re turning on me?” I sigh, I’m gonna have to act cool this hot minute.

“Bucky I’m happy for you, I was just surprised,” quickly changing the mood before it turned sour. “My best guy wants to get married, who wouldn’t be ecstatic about that?” I know I’m not. I put on my best cheery voice, maybe a little too much.

“Yes! I knew I can count on you!” joy clear in his voice, “I can’t wait for you to meet her, we’ve reserved a table at that Italian restaurant you love. I’ll see you at 7!” And the line goes static. His excitement won over my tenseness. I couldn’t believe what just happened. Is this a joke?

“This is insane George! Two months? How could anyone want to marry someone they’ve been with for that amount of time? Marriage is commitment George, that’s some serious stuff.”

“Bucky’s been at my tail for years! Years! And now this girl comes along and he suddenly wants to marry her?" It was true, even when we’ve decided to end things romantically between us, Bucky would still flirt and act like everything was normal, we slept on the same bed for Pete’s sake! I suddenly wished I didn’t get over my head and moved out, it could’ve been me he’s proposing to. My hair was all over the place, but I didn’t mind, I liked it naturally looking like I was straight out of bed, I put makeup on meticulously, not knowing who my opponent was. I was blabbering away, lighting a cigar as George continued driving. I was speaking way to fast, paranoia clear in my voice.

“I’m going to get him back, George, I’ve got to. I’ll do whatever it takes to get him back.” I say as I let a puff of smoke out my lips.

George laughs, he likes me when I panic, “Oh I bet you will.”

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