#but if it’s peppered amongst their letters that’s their business

[emry-stars-art]

↖️ Andrew needs some way to make the spurned and eavesdropping nearby noble even more angry, and if he can do it by being sweet with his guard/consort? What a shame 👀

So Abram returns the favor in a slightly different manner ↘️

Find the royal au masterpost here 💕

[beautifulbuckys]

Speakeasy (Steve Rogers x Reader)

“I’m not villainizing your peers because they like to get drunk on the weekend, Mr. Rogers, I’m villainizing you and your peers because you use illegal practices to keep yourself in business.

“You better chose your next few words very carefully, sweets,” 

Summary: When Tony Stark insists on hosting a themed party, you find yourself in the shoes of a 1920′s role with all the other Avengers. But what happens when you spot the Avenger you’d been harboring a crush on?

Warnings: Some swearing, intense conversations, some sexual moments but nothing smutty (just spicy!) 

A/N: I refuse to write and read mafia fics, but I still somehow came up with this. Enjoy!

Tony Stark lived for dramatics. 

Nobody who’s been in a 5-mile radius of the man is surprised. The list goes on with his over-the-top Iron Man suits, excentric galas, and Avengers-themed Pop-Tarts hitting the shelves. The Stark parties hosted what felt like every other week topped the list. More than once, without fail, he found an excuse to host parties. Infiltrated a Hydra base? It sounds like a party needs to be hosted! Bucky’s 106th birthday? The balloons are already inflated! Did Peter get an A on his AP Lang test? A cake has already been ordered. 

Tony’s newest fascination has been themed parties. He’s only hosted one, yet it managed to be more extreme than Morgan’s last birthday party; you could’ve sworn you saw a real unicorn. As he put it, the theme was ‘Football’ themed, hosted in a timely fashion for the Super Bowl. It was the grandest Super Bowl party you’d ever attended. Tony insisted everyone wore team colors, much to many people’s dismay. Although it may come as a shock, Bruce and Peter weren’t the most enthused to attend a party about football. 

Now, as the summer is winding down, he is planning another. The theme, you ask? He proudly announced it to be Roarin’ 20’s! 

“Ladies and gents, I know you’re all so excited! I can see the passion behind Bucky’s cold, dead eyes!” Tony announced in front of the team. You were all seated around the orange curved couch Pepper purchased for the compound, 

The silence amongst the team spoke volumes. 

“I’m gonna vamp it up a bit! By tonight, Morgan should have dropped off individual letters to each of your rooms. You have 1 week to read the said letter and follow instructions varying on what you received. This party isn’t going to be the only thing modeled around the ’20s,” Tony winked.

After Tony’s small speech, you couldn’t help but feel a little curious. The personalized letter, delivered by Morgan? He must have gone above and beyond on these invitations. A lot of the team got up, leaving to go resume their business. Others stayed back. Sam was already sitting on the couch with Natasha, unpausing the cheesy romcom they started earlier. Steve hung back too, coincidentally he had just finished his workout when Tony called a team meeting. God did he look good!

“Are none of you curious about this personalized letter stuff?” Natasha shook her head, her red waves dancing as she did so. Sam also shook his head, eyes immediately returning to the flatscreen.

Steve sighed, lifting himself from the couch. “You know Tony and his insane theatrics,” 

When you got your letter, you were overjoyed. As promised, Morgan knocked on the door. She was dressed in a bright yellow Princess Belle dress and pink fairy wings. Her bright smile shone like a thousand suns when she handed a metallic gold envelope with your name on it. 

The second you shut the door, you ripped open the envelope. Inside, was a black piece of cardstock decorated with gold lines and other crazy details. Gold lettering described the overall setting of the party. Nothing you hadn’t been exposed to already. However, on the bottom, there was writing instructing you to look on the back. Curious, you turned the invitation around and began reading the small paragraphs on the back. 

This party was also a role-play? We all had characters. 

You? You were the “Hollywood Bombshell’, as Tony so kindly put it. The invite had a small paragraph explaining your character for the night. She loved playing hard to get, was extremely confident, and adored attention. She’d do anything in the world for it. Wonderful! In smaller writing, Tony noted that he’d be providing our wardrobe.

And provide he did. 

The long, scarlet dress that just barely dragged on the floor was gorgeous. It was pure silk, with a large slit running up the left leg until your mid-thigh. The bodice was loose. 3-finger wide straps hung off your shoulders, creating a purposeful sag right where a small bit of cleevage appeared. All in all, it was gorgeous. Tony provided accessories, a matching set of gloves and pearl earrings accompanied the stunning silk. With the whold get up on, you felt like a hollywood bombshell. Natasha insisted on assisting you with hair in makeup under the ruse of ‘girls time’.

“I bet you’re hoping Steve will be the leading actor to your actress,” Natasha winked, helping create a beautiful red makeup look to match with your outfit. She was wearing a figure hugging black sequin gown. Her ruby colored hair was paired with a small black headband. 

You playfully slap her on the shoulder, “And what are you, Cupid? I don’t think he wears a sexy black dress, Natasha,”

Natasha chuckles, grabbing your chin gently and tugging your face closer to hers. She was incredibly concentrated on finishing your pencil eyeliner. “You’re no expert on Cupid, then. Sexy sequins are in. Maybe Steve will be wearing a red tie to match yours! That would be so adorable,” Her smooth voice teased.

“With all this talk about Steve I’m starting to think you’re the one with a crush on him,” 

The redhead giggled. “I have my own tall glass of super solider, sweetheart. I can barely handle Barnes. Blondie is all yours,” She commented while resting her hands. “All done. Go look in the mirror, let me know what you think. Hopefully you love it because Tony wants us downstairs in 10.” 

You stand up, heading to the bathroom that is conjoined with your bedroom. “What is Bucky anyways?” Tony instructed everyone to not share their roles. Some people respecting the request. Those were the party poopers. Known as Sam, Steve, Pepper, and Wanda. 

“He’s a speakeasy owner. Tony put him in a sexy stripey suit,”

You twirl in the mirror, admiring Natasha’s work. “Well Miss Jazz Singer, I guess we better get downstairs so I can see this suit for myself,” The two of you linked arms, leaving your room in it’s modern day glory and stepping into the elevator. Now? You’re no longer in modern times. You’re in the roaring 20’s! A few of the Avengers teased Tony for his commitment and dedication to the theme. You appreciated it. Sure, it was cheesy. Good thing you like cheese. 

The main area of the compound was decked out. Sitting on an ivory colored table next to the bar was a gigantic champagne tower. It was nearly taller than Bucky and Steve stacked on top of each other. Gold and black were scattered around the large room, black chairs with gold cushions; golden bartop decorated with black roses. You make a mental note to ask Tony where on Earth he found black roses. Wanda was sitting at the bar with Bruce. The Sokovian was wearing a knee-length flapper dress. It was purple with small silver details scattered throughout the fabric. She also sported a pair of small black pumps and black fishnets. Overall, she looked good. Bruce had a simple white undershirt, which was stained. Suspenders accompanied the shirt, holding up his army green trousers. 

“Well hello gorgeous,” You shouted, walking towards Wanda. Her attention switched from the martini glass in front of her to you. Her eyes glowed and a smile struck her face. Bruce turned around too, looking you up and down with wide eyes. 

“Says you! You look gorgeous, what are you? A model? Because you look like one!” Wanda laughed as she spun around on the bar stool. 

You smiled, seating yourself at the open stool next to Bruce. “As Tony put it, I’m a ‘hollywood bombshell’,” You used hand quotes to emphasize the exact role you were given. “Tony made me look like a million bucks, I’ll give him that. 

You felt a hand on the back of your shoulder from behind the bar. “Ladies, ladies, I know we’re not straying away from our roles; are we?” Tony’s familiar playful tone spoke over the suddenly loud 1920’s music. You winced, realizing that was the task you were given. Simply follow your role. Do some improv. Have some fun!

“Of course not, Mr. Stark,” Bruce spoke up. Now that you were closer to him, you noticed more of his outfit. The weird stains on his tee shirt were oil stains. He was a mechanic. Wanda was a flapper. What the hell was Tony?

“That’s President Stark to you, commoner,” That answered your question right there. You laughed, excusing yourself from the bar. The room had filled up, many of the Avengers staff joined the team for these parties. The medical staff from the medical wing were here, as well as the secrataries Tony hired to answer PR emails. 

As you scanned the room, you saw Natasha and Bucky tucked away in a dark corner. As Natasha promised, Bucky was wearing a brown suit with thin white vertical stripes. His long hair was gelled back, the white lights from the ceiling comically shining off of it. Scott was sitting with Cassie and Morgan, who were also dressed up. They were playing dolls, the only modern-ish looking things around the room. On the couch, Steve and Sam were sitting and passionately talking. Steve was waving his hands around while Sam laughed. However, Sam’s strong laughter stopped once he made eye contact with you. Taking it as a cue, you strutted up to the men. 

“Hi boys,” You winked. 

Sam winked back, dramatically raising his eyebrow. “Hello there gorgeous,” He had a small business card poking out of his simple brown jacket pocked. Gracefully, you bend down to retrieve a card. Sam Wilson, New York stock broker. How cute. 

“Stock broker,” You say flirtasiously.

“Model?” Sam questioned. 

“Actress,” Sam knodding approvingly, the corner of his lips lifting into a small charming smirk. 

Steve was uncharacteristically silent. Usually during these events, he was chatting someones ear off. He insisted he wasn’t the biggest fan of the parties; yet he thought it was only polite to try to enjoy himself when they happed. You’d be a liar if you said Steve didn’t look sexy. His plain black suit jacket hugged his biceps generously. The tight mathcing pants didn’t leave much to the imagination. Steve’s pink lips were set in an intimidating frown. Like hell you’d let that scare you.

“Mind if I sit, gentlemen?” You asked.

“Feel free,” Sam stated. 

Confidently, and before you could convince yourself otherwise, you plopped yourself into Steve’s lap. His face was etched with shock, but almost immediately fell back into his serious gaze. Sam nearly spit out the water he had been sipping on. Somehow, he stopped himself. 

“I hope I’m not interuptting any business,” You combed your fingers through Steve’s hair. Like Bucky’s it also had gel. Not nearly as much, though. A few strands sat on his forehead, framing his beautiful face. Gently, you tug and twist on a few of the strands. “I’d hate to find myself in the middle of an important conversation,” 

“Hardly,” Steve finally broke his silence. “We were just finishing up,” 

“And what do you do, Mr. Rogers?” You take your hand and rest it underneath his chin, lifting it up so he is looking up at you. His striking blue eyes locked with yours in an instant. 

He cleared his throat, “I run a few businesses,” His hand found the small of your back, thumb rubbing up and down the area gently.

“Define businesses. Mr. Banner down at the bar runs a car repair shop. Gorgeous Natasha over there is a jazz singer. Entertainment is big right now, I should know. Her date Mr. Barnes runs a speakeasy. Lots of sketchy characters there,”

“I’m very familiar with Mr. Barnes’ speakeasy,” Steve growled. His large hand came resting on your thigh. Agressively, he played with the flesh. Before you knew it, there were red marks where his hand had rested mere moments before. “I’m one of the sketchy characters you’re speakin’ about, sweets,”

Despite your characters confident facade, you struggled to keep up with it. Your overwhelming crush on Steve was making this interaction incredibly difficult. You could feel the raging heat on your cheeks. You couldn’t mistake the fluttery butterflies that occupied your stomach. Tony had been roaming around the party, waiting for people to break character. Like hell you were going to be caught. Who knows, maybe this could be your shot! Maybe this is the chance you’ve been waiting for to make a move on Steve. You’ve found yourself shy nearly every other opportunity you’ve gotten. Normally, you got cold feet and ran out of the room. The amount of times Natasha has had to cover for you is getting embarrassing.

“And sketchy you are. Those damn bars are illegal, now isn’t the time to be fumbling with the law,”

Steve chucked darkly, “Oh don’t act like you’re all pure and innocent. Hollywood runs rampit with anything illegal. Your folks love that stuff,” 

“My folks?” You urged him to continue. 

“You heard me the first time, doll. Nobody in that industry is the Virgin Mary. Everyone has that one thing they’d do anything for. Don’t villainize my peers because they like a taste of scotch every once in a while,”

“I’m not villainizing your peers because they like to get drunk on the weekend, Mr. Rogers,” You find your hand back in his blonde locks, twisting and tugging as you spoke. With this leverage, you pulled his hair to twist his head, exposing Steve’s ear. You decide to whisper, making the moment more intimate. “I’m villainizing you and your peers because you use illegal practices to keep yourself in business.

“You better chose your next few words very carefully, sweets,” 

Steve Rogers was a mafia man. Golden boy, America’s solider, was a crime lord. And right now? You don’t mind. 

“You’re gonna need to try harder than that if you want to shut me up,” The words spilled out of your mouth like milk out of a jug. The words were spoken as your confident, sexy actress character. Yet they hard truth to you. Not this false self someone else spun for you. Not the person gifted the silk red dress. You. You were speaking the truth you had held in for the longest time. The confession, though veiled by flirtatious banter, was transparent. 

And Steve Rogers did exactly that. He leaned forward into your lips. His hands found their place on your hips, as yours found a place in his hair. Passionately, he kissed you. His lips violated yours sinfully, in a way that Jeuss Christ himself would need to turn his back from. But you didn’t care. 

Breaking the kiss, Steve Rogers only said one thing.

“The only illegal things I’m doing tonight are the things I’m going to do to you,” 

And you’d be damned if you stopped him.

[neonovember]

A lovers Morning ~ b.barnes

bucky x fem!reader

summary : you and bucky enjoy a morning together basking in the warmth that is your love. 

warning : hints of nsfw/ smut if you squint, otherwise pure and utter fluff (srsly enough to stuff a grown man) pls tell me if i’ve missed anything!

notes : first fic! equal parts excited and equal parts terrified lol. kind of a first instalment? hints of fics within this fic so ask away if you want them! Probably not qualified to call myself a “writer” but who cares, enjoy darlings x

Mornings were never my thing, always sore from sleeping positions, always irritated to be woken from my eternal slumber. I never truly understood the essence of mornings, the culture of rising with the sun, when instead one could sleep until the moons of the day, only woken by the bustling nonsense of taxis being hauled and disgruntled pedestrians murmuring amongst themselves. Truly, the sea of people, of life, instead was what woke me. I was content in the way I had lived my life like this, sticking to routine, finding comfort in the way in which my mornings and afternoons, gliding into each other.

That was until I had met him. My brunette lover. In some wicked way, the universe had dealt the cards of my destiny, and in that he was the man I would lie with. The beginning had begun, with our mails being mixed, my large boxed packages of makeup, clothes, folder notes filled with work I'd procrastinated while his were handwritten letters and books tied with string.

 A pamphlet for a Thai restaurant had accidentally found its way into my apartment, picking it up with the thought of passing it to him was long forgotten after ordering Pad Thai one drunken afternoon. Mail fraud was a criminal offense but right then, it felt like a blessing of fortitude. After moments of this mix up, however, it only seemed natural for the impromptu invite into my apartment, tired of only seeing his stubble grazed jaw and mordecai eyes whilst delivering his mail. The conversations now inside my rugged apartment instead of the litted hallway. 

I remember till this day, the way his eyes slid over the contents of my abode, quirking at the mandala tapestry attached to my ceiling, smiling at the long bookshelf fitted to the corner, eyes crinkling at the emerald plush sofa that was covered with rainbow popcorn. He hesitantly walked in, keenly aware of the stomps of his black timberland boots on the saccharin floors. Quickly taking them off, placing them next to the fluffy pink slippers.

Conversations turned to coffees at the quaint bakery at the edge of Smithen’s street, which continued on for months until Bucky was tired of just loving you over croissants and chestnut coffee steams. He asked you to dinner a Thursday afternoon, taking you to the Thai restaurant you had stolen from his mail. Giggling behind an encrusted menu as you remembered your drunken moment. You pretended to mull over the options, as if you didn't already know exactly what you wanted; Gaeng massaman, and him.

As you remember this moment, it’s almost funny, the way his combat boots looked compared to your leisure wear, the way it almost fit inappropriately. See, the universe works that way, fitting things within things that weren't supposed to fit. The shoes were an omen to the life we live now. Husky, timberlands next to pink slippers, his cologne next to my rosemary spray, his shaving cream next to my waxing strips. Which I had promptly hid from him after seeing him with the peppered scruff that appeared in times he'd forget to shave, too busy swept in life and the mornings of our love.

The journey of my lover and me where now, in the bristling, dew mornings in winter and the warm syrupy sunrises in summer.

Brunette mop of curls pulled behind his ears, shown auburn in the silkin rays of the sun shining through the white linen curtains strung to the side of the window of the room we shared. Waking up against his flexed muscles, an arm wrapped tightly around my waist rubbing smooth circles around the pecan hued skin that curved to my hip. The duvet was half strung across our conjoined bodies, estranged in a way that only covered our legs. 

It was horrifying really, how god damn lovesick moments like this felt. How strange it was to just exist with someone else, be a part of someone else. To have a routine that fucking had someone else. 

Checking, kissing him after brushing teeth, brushing his hair back while holding him after making coffee. It was strange at first to not just exist with myself, relying on someone else, holding someone else, loving someone else.

Turning into his side, I crouched into the smoothed skin of his pecs, taut with knots and clenched as he slept. Pressing my fingertips into the tight skin, I focused on massaging the contorts as he hummed in content. After relieving the worst of them, I snuggled into his chest, head resting to hear the slowed beating of his heart as his subconscious embraced me holding me caged between his toned abdomen and his muscular arms. 

I never awoke early in the morning, but for him, it was natural, for my lover and I felt closest in the times in which the city was asleep. Both in times of pure saccharin pleasure during the depths of 4am, and during the rise of the sun, as we cuddled and whispered sweet nothings before we were whisked away with the duties of adulthood.

Bucky hummed softly into my ear, chuckling as he realized I had become a masseuse during his slumber.

“Sweetheart” He whispered, planting sweet kisses near the curve of my earlobe. Too consumed with satisfying his insatiable need of touching me to realize I had already begun waking.

“Bucky, you're awake?” I smirked finally full as he awoke.

“No thanks to your fingers” He chucked, giving a pointed look towards my index finger softly grazing scarred pinked skin near his belly button.

“How could I resist, with my boyfriend shirtless and all” I spoke with ignition towards his almost naked body separated only by a pair of black boxers I had bought him during a Target run. 

He hmphed as he grabbed me, pulling me impossibly closer as I straddled his toned abdomen. Squeaking with a laugh I tugged as his brunette locks, causing him to let out a strangled whine.

“You know I have to leave for work, why must you make me use my sick days, darling?” He huskily whispered, voice deepen with sleep.

“I’m insatiable Bucky, you know this” I whisper back 

“Only for me?” Bucky replied in question, he already knew the answer but loved to hear it come from the silken syrupy voice you had only in the mornings.

“Only for you” I said, kissing his closed eyelids

The opened window to the side of the master bedroom breathed in hints of toasted coffee beans and traces of hazelnut.

Stomach grumbling, Bucky laughed, stomach shaking as I straddled him, slowly he raised from the humid sheets whilst holding me.

“Breakfast I assume” He says smiling down

“Of course, It's Thursday” I smiled looking at his crinkled eyes staring down at me.

During Thursday mornings, me and Bucky would wake up extra early,  spending a few moments cuddling and then cooking breakfast together. Working in a comfortable silence, stopping a few moments to kiss one another and embrace, before continuing our designated tasks for breakfast. What you didn't know at first was that Bucky was a phenomenal cook. Spending his days in Bucharest going through countless cookbooks he had bought at a market.

It wasn't until you had gotten sick one day, not answering his messages as he grew more and more anxious at your silence. It was early in the weeks of dating each other and Bucky was sick with the thought of you suddenly not liking him, leaving him ghosted with feelings he knew he had not felt in a long time.

 Unbeknownst to him you were lying on your couch, feverish and sickly, sweat on your forehead as you hid under your favorite blanket, shivering with the bug that was going around your workplace.

 You never dealt with pain, or nausea well, which was why you had attempted to not reply to Bucky. You didn't want to scare him with the nauseous groans you let out dealing with this shit, no less than a couple weeks after you both started dating.

Then, as Bucky walked to your apartment to drop off some mail and heard your groaned moans. He was suddenly on high alert, aware of your pained presence. You sounded like you were fucking dying and it scared Bucky shitless. Breaking into the door as he called your name in desperation, ready to fucking murder whoever put their hands on his baby. 

After he found you under the blanket sweating profusely when you called his name in shock, he grabbed you, hugging you close to his chest. During that moment he knew, he knew he had fallen so fucking hard he was practically cemented. Bucky loved you, and it was then his heart started to slow down. Waving off your protests he seated you back on the couch before announcing his new mission. Nursing you back to health.

 When you tried to argue that he would get sick, he simply replied that he was a Super soldier, he never got sick. You huffed out as you lied back down defeated, Bucky was always a good debater. After some clanking in the kitchen he presented a chicken noodle soup. It smelt amazing, almost as good as your mothers, and all thought of not keeping anything down was thrown out the window as you greedily sipped on the soup.

 Moaning in pleasure, he laughed looking down at your ragged state, coils and curls stuck to your forehead, framing your face. You were still so utterly beautiful.

The apartment both you and Bucky lived in was the perfect representation of the both of you. Bookshelves lining the walls, an emerald couch Bucky had begged you not to sell from your old apartment in the middle of the living room, adorned with cushions and throw blankets.

 A piano lay in the corner of the living room, pressed up against the wall. Bucky loved antiques, it was a way for him to keep something from the past, try and remember how it was, how he felt it was, feigning connection with his heart, and his mind.

Lamps with braided covers on the edges of both bedside tables, a grandfather clock in the hallway of your front door, all hinted at the decades Bucky missed. 

The kitchen however, was completely vehemently you. The cabinets were an emerald green, hints of white and was sleekly modern if it wasn't for the encrusted lines running along the edges that gave it an rich old English essence.

Spices were arranged neatly on top of the emerald hued granite, the large windows near the sink brought in light, and plants were strung along the kitchen giving it an Earthy, homey feel. Bucky secretly adorned the kitchen, loving the way it comforted the both of you, and gave the birth of intimate moments like this you both shared whilst the world was asleep.

As the food was plated on the wooden table nearing the large paned windows, Bucky sat whilst you rested between his legs. Eggs, bacon, salad, Romania bread he always had in the fridge, and fruits covered the antique.

 A steaming cup of coffee was placed next to Bucky, the ceramic cup moulding to accompany the heat, changing colors of porcelain to mahogany. Bucky took his coffee with cream and sugar, much to the expectation of straight black due to his macho, husky appearance. You loved coffee with sugar and hints of almond, and the steaming cup smelt of just that. You smiled as you realised he had made a cup for the both of you, sharing a drink between lovers. 

You both hummed lowly as a vinyl softly played Marvin Gaye, a gift Bucky had received from Sam, which at first he dismissed before falling in love with the smooth jazz sounds of How Sweet It Is To Be Loved By You, encapsulated in the feeling of not just Marvin’s voice, but the gift he felt of loving you. Now, Marvin and Nina Simone were frequented during lazy Sunday mornings and Thursdays. He never told Sam though, never giving him the benefit of being right, just a secret between you two.

Eating pieces of fruit and bacon, before taking periodic sips of Bucky and your’s coffee, you sighed pleasantly in content against your lover's back. How long you were able to live life without him was a wonder, because now, it seemed impossible. Loving him was so easy, it almost hurt, you couldn't even bear the thought of waking up without his imprinted body sinking into the mattress, or the smell of Romanian dinners and fresh bread, it was simply just a part of you. He was a part of you.

Rubbing small circles across your waist, Bucky sensed you were in deep thought, your dazed eyes glossed over, he was good at those things.

“What's on your mind doll?” He spoke, pressing his face into your neck.

“How much I love you…how lucky I am to love you, how lucky i am to be loved by you” You say back, running a hand through his curls.

“Hm…, that's funny,'' He said, pressing kisses to your golden syruped skin, pushing your dark curls behind your ear.

“Yeah?” You questioned smiling

“Yeah, because I was just thinking about how I want to spend the day, and since you've fallen in love with me I guess I have to take the day off, no?” He said against my skin.

You laugh at first, by Bucky’s cockiness,but then you registered what he had actually said.

“What! Bucky no!” I say knowing how important his presence is to his job

“Yes” he said smirking

“But Steve, Sam, they need you” I whisper chewing on my bottom lip,  it wasn't always that Bucky took off work, he loved it, it made him who he was, made it one of the reasons why you loved him.

“Yes, they do, but they can deal with a day without me. I think I'm needed more urgently somewhere else, serving.. Someone else. In fact today is a new mission” He said gleefully.

“What do you mean?” I said laughing, smiling at the thought of spending the day with Bucky, hands itching to reach for the phone to call up the University. Leaving my students with a substitute wasn't particularly fair, but Bucky and love made it so hard to say no.

“I mean..i’m going to spend the day, showing you how much I adore you doll, and when I mean the whole day,” Bucky lifted my chin to look into my deep brown eyes, blown out in both lust and love for him,

“I mean the whole day” he spoke in that same husky tone from this morning.  His eyes transforming from the crescent cerulean blue to a dark prussian, almost black colour. Growing with lust.

“I’ll hold you to that, James'” You choked out in a staggered breath, looking up at him, nervousness taking over your frame as you got ready to be drilled into the mattress, the living room couch, the kitchen island, the balcony window, everywhere.

Bucky let out a shuddered breath at the mention of his first name, something you only ever called him in times of ecstasy and pure oblivion, body arched as you called for him.

“I’m sure you will.. now you better enjoy the dishes because I did them yesterday” He looked down, smirking, eyes still a dark blown out black, but slowly turning back into the blue of cerulean. Never missing a moment to tease you, even if he was just about ready to press you against the table.

You huffed out in annoyance, you absolutely hated dishes, time spent being in a Restaurant back room taught you enough of that.

“You better christen every room in this house James” You said in a daze still in between lust and love.

All he did was laugh gingerly, as you peeled yourself off of his tall brooding frame, grabbing plates along the way.

“You know I don’t fall out of a promise, princess,” Bucky called. Your back was turned, heading into the kitchen but you could feel the smirk on his face, already thinking up ways to split you in two, again and again and again. 

Surrendering would be fruitful now, there was no stopping Bucky when he was on a mission. You knew this, all too damn well.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch7: Eight Letters, Three Words, One Meaning

Summary: Katie and Steve’s relationship is blossoming, but they’ve still not come out to the rest of the team. Well, not yet anyway…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language, spiders (yeah, okay, I need a warning for those eight legged freaks) Smut (NSFW, 18+)

A/N: More credit to my edit partner, @angrybirdcr​

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 6

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

June 2013

Katie was trying to listen, she really was, but the warmth of the June sun was lulling her to sleep, despite the fact she had only gotten up two hours or so ago. She was trying to focus on the intelligence that had come out of the Department of Damage Control, that a Warehouse in Columbia was housing a load of the alien based weapons for sale on the black market.

Maybe if she just closed her eyes….

She found herself daydreaming. About her favourite thing to day dream about. Steve. It was now five weeks since they had started dating and two weeks since they had been caught by Tony. Since then they’d spent pretty much every other evening wrapped around one another post making out. Sometimes it would just be a bit of heavy kissing, sometimes there would be a little more. Like when he had lain over her on the bed, kissing her neck, lips, chest, before slipping his hands into her panties for the first time as he’d coaxed her to completion that way before she’d returned the favour, wrapping her palm around him, bringing him off.

And then yesterday had been her birthday, which had brought her one hell of a present.

Katie had been on at him for as long as she could remember for a ride on his motorbike so, amongst other presents, Steve had Clint help him research the best helmet he could get and he’d bought her one, much to her excitement. She’d squealed and then squealed some more when he had revealed they were off out for the afternoon. He’d packed an evening picnic and taken her up to Rock Creek Park where they’d eaten subs, muffins and were now laid back on the blanket, her head resting on his chest.

“Your hair smells different…nice different…” He nuzzled his nose into it.

“Oh, it’s a different shampoo…” She grinned “It was in the hamper of ridiculously expensive toiletries and make-up that Tony sent me. Or should I say Pepper, as he will have had no idea about any of that stuff…”

“Smells of cookies.”

“It has oatmeal in so you’re not far off.” She smiled, looking up at the sky.

The pair of them stayed still, his hand straying into her hair before he broke the calm silence.

“You know, when I was a kid…me and Bucky used to play a game, spotting shapes in the clouds” he said

“Tony used to do that with me.” she smiled, shifting her head so that the back of it still lay across his chest but she could see upwards “See, there’s a dog…”

“Looks more like a cow to me…” He cocked his head to one side.

“A cow?” she snorted, “Where have you ever seen a cow look like that?”

The two of them stayed like that for another hour or so, playing shapes and making conversations before the sun began to stray behind the trees. Reluctantly Katie agreed it was probably time to go home.

“I’ve had,” she undid the strap on her baby blue and silver helmet, pulling it off with a flourish as she stepped off the bike outside her apartment, “the most amazing birthday, thank you…”

She reached up and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it doll.” He said gently as she reached into her back pocket for her key card. Smiling he dropped his hand to her waist as they walked to the elevator. When the doors opened, Katie tugged on his hand gently and led him in after her. Once in her apartment, he allowed just enough time for them to remove their jackets and for Katie to hang her new helmet in pride of place on the hooks before his lips crashed onto hers, the kisses growing deeper, and he hooked his hands round the back of her thighs and easily picked her up. She giggled, wrapping her legs round his waist, her nose brushing against his as he carried her up the stairs, dropping her gently on the bed. She spread her legs making room for him so he could settle his hips in between the space they made as she wrapped her arms round his neck, his hands gently running up the side of her ribs, pulling off the t-shirt she was wearing, cupping her face in his hands. He let out a soft moan as her hands started to slide down his chest and it was clear she had intentions of using her hands, if not her mouth as well, on him again but that wouldn’t do, not on her birthday.

“Uh-uh not tonight baby girl.” He said, gently grabbing her wrists.

She frowned and looked genuinely pissed off that he was stopping her. As she pouted at him, he simply smiled “It’s your birthday, after all.” He whispered into her mouth before setting her hands down on the pillow on either side of her head before turning his attention to her chest, sucking and biting through her bra, listening to the sounds she made right by his ear. He continued his affections downwards, pressing small kisses all the way down her body until his nose was skimming along the waistband of her jeans. She let out a groan of delight as he brought his hands up to undo them and started guiding them down. 

The idea of tasting her like this had been on his mind since she had first done it to him but he was utterly lost, with no idea on what to do next. He glanced up at her, swallowing slightly and instantly understanding that he needed encouragement, Katie reached down to tangle her fingers in his hair, raising her hips to help him remove the jeans and her underwear. She knew he had never done this before, but now, as she gently bent her knees to allow him access she heard him let out a soft moan of his own and watched him as he snuck one glance up at her and then set his mouth on her.

It took a while, her guiding him gently, telling him what she liked, what was working and what wasn’t but she didn’t really have to give him too much direction. What he lacked in skill he made up for with dogged determination and eventually, her breathy directions died in her throat and then she was moaning and writhing in pleasure as his mouth worked her over, one hand in his hair and the other gripping the sheets. Her sweet, salty tang on his tongue set every nerve in his body on edge and the more he tasted the more he wanted.

Katie could hear and feel him groaning with each lick and suck he gave her. He was aroused, really aroused and surprised to find the warm feeling across his stomach was getting harder to ignore the more he worked her. When he focused his attention back on her little bundle of nerves, licking at it before closing his lips around it and sucking it into his mouth she was done. Her body convulsed, her back arched and she let out a strangled cry, his name on her lips and it made him slightly smug to hear. Steve held her down gently, one strong arm over her small waist and as her hand gripped his hair harder and she groaned brokenly once more, he felt himself go, tipping over the edge and he shuddered gently as his own release washed over him. Katie pushed her hand into his hair, having become too sensitive, gently moving his mouth away from her. Taking the hint, he obliged, kissing his way back up her body, pressing his mouth onto hers.

“Good?” He asked breathlessly, staring at her, seeking confirmation despite the fact she lay completely and utterly undone beneath him.

“God, yes.” Her voice was gruff, as she kissed him, the fact that he could still clearly taste her on his tongue meant that she would be able to too, and the fact that she didn’t care made him shudder, though that also might have something to do with the mess he’d once again made in his pants like a horny schoolboy.

As they kissed she began to trail her hand back down his chest reaching for his buckle but he stopped her again, pulling away.

“I err….” he trailed off, dropping his head slightly embarrassed. But he needn’t have been. The fact that he’d gotten off on giving Katie what was, frankly, the best orgasm she could remember having made her grin and she cocked her head to one side as she eyed him, tipping his head up to look at her.

“Best birthday present ever.” She smirked, drawing a laugh from him before he kissed her again.

“Agent Stark!” Fury barked, jerking her awake. Damned, had she actually fallen asleep in briefing? Steve was perched on the edge of Fury’s desk, and Katie could tell he was fighting to keep a smirk off his face.

“Sorry Sir, didn’t get much sleep last night.” She avoided looking at Steve as she spoke, her mouth tugged upwards at the corners.

Besides her she heard Clint give a snigger which he hastily turned into a cough. Of course he knew about the pair of them. Him, Natasha and Evans being the only people on the team that did although Katie and Steve had both admitted they didn’t really know how much longer they could keep it clandestine.

“So as I was saying,” Fury shot Katie another look as Natasha played along, patting Clint harshly on the back. “Salaad Ali.” Fury pointed at the picture of the main man responsible for the arms ring we had been tracking over the middle East . “Do we know much about him?”

“He’s a sick bastard” Clint sat up, suddenly all business. “Came across him on an op in 2009. Apparently when he was active as part of the regime under Sadam Hussein he was tasked with taking out a Kurdish fighter cell that was stockpiling munitions. He was undercover for a month. Then one night he kidnaps a guard, peels off the skin from his right hand, completely, and wore it like a glove to gain access to their stores using the biometric scanners.”

“That’s about power.” Katie took a breath as she rose from her seat. “Mocking and goading the people who he’s stealing off. Look at me, not only did I infiltrate your organisation, I maimed your security guard in the process.”

Fury invited her to take the floor and she stood up and spoke confidently. “From what I’ve read he’s obviously an organised offender.” Steve had to smile, before she had trained as a sniper after Clint had discovered she had a natural eye for a shot, she had joined STRIKE as a Mission Analyst-slash- Target Profiler. And she was good at it. “He’s sophisticated in his approach, and is a meticulous planner.”

“You have to be to pull off the sort of crimes he has, these are big jobs.” Clint said. Katie nodded as she paced slightly, the way she always did when she was thinking.

“I also believe from the other things he has allegedly done, the murders, rapes…he’s a control freak, a sadist, type of person who will always want the last word in the argument so to speak. Therefore, if he knows someone is on to him, he won’t come quietly.” She stopped by Steve and looked at Fury, then round the room at the assembled team. “We should be prepared for a fight. And they’ll be fighting to kill, not wound.”

“Can’t the air force just blow the place up?” Rumlow asked as Steve adjusted his stance slightly, his hand’s dropping to the buckle on his belt as he studied the man before his attention turned to Fury.

“If it was that simple we would have already sent in an air strike.” The Director shook his head, pushing a button to show a map. Besides him, Steve felt Kate shift a little and he stole a glance at her to see she was concentrating on the screen,  her chin resting on the closed fist of her left hand, elbow supported on her right arm which was crossed over the front of her body. Steve watched as her eyes flicked over the details and he turned to the screen as well, immediately spotting what the problem was.  

“There’s a civilian village less than five hundred yards away.” He sighed. “That place goes up so do they.”

“Exactly.” Fury nodded.

“Not to mention those weapons are really volatile.” Katie took a deep breath. “If they have as many as we suspect, then if they go up, it’s gonna leave one hell of a hole.”

“Which is why you need take the base and clear out the weapons.” Fury nodded. “And bring Ali in, I have some questions for him before we turn him over to the Authorities.”

*****

They decided to operate under the cover of darkness, to give them the element of surprise. Once they had some form of plan- a heat scan as they hovered over the building told them how many people were in the building and once they had established that they moved in. They operated as a well-organised unit, quickly and meticulously flushing out the hostiles.

It was all going too smoothly, especially as Ali was still in the building. Capturing him was surprisingly easy, even if it was Natasha that found him. In hindsight, that should have been a warning sign they probably should have spotted. As Rumlow and Natasha were leading him away, the team already having dispatched the rest of the hostiles, Steve, Clint and Katie headed deeper into the warehouse to locate the weapons themselves when, just as they found a hidden room off the main service corridor, there was a loud clicking noise and Clint stopped dead.

“Shit.” He muttered and Katie wheeled round and he held his hand up to her. “Don’t move.”

“What…” Katie followed his gaze and swallowed when she saw his foot resting over a small metal pad on the creaking floor boards of the first floor room they were in.

“Yeah…we have a problem.” Clint sighed, looking at her then to the Captain “Should have seen that one coming.”

He’s the type of guy that will want the last laugh, so if he knows someone is on to him, he aint coming quietly

Steve scanned the floor and spotted another trigger a few feet away from Katie. Pulling her to the left away from it he looked around the room.

“What’s going on?” Rumlow asked over the coms.

“The son of a bitch has the place rigged.” Clint wiped his brow “ I’ve triggered some kind of sensor pad.”

“If he’s laying traps in here then the weapons have to be nearby…” Steve said, as Katie dropped to her hands and knees, torch shining through the dirty, well-worn floorboards.

“The device has to be under here…” she said, and she began to follow the wire across the floor, keeping her eyes peeled for more booby-traps, as Steve carefully made his way into a small room off to their right avoiding another trigger as he went. His eyes scanned the various crates of the familiar shining metal weapons and he sighed.

“Found the jackpot…”

“So have I.” Katie said, stopping crawling as the wire ended. She could just about make out the metal box, a red light flashing ominously through the gaps.

“Ok, we’re coming to you.” Rumlow spoke again

“No!” Steve hastily turned and walked back into the main room. “We don’t know how many of these he has laid around the place. Wait for my instructions.”

He glanced over at Clint who was stood, motionless, his eyes focussed on his foot.

“Barton, you okay?”

“Peachy, Cap” he said, looking up “Guess my Hawk eyes let me down”

“Happens to the best of us.” Steve looked at him as Katie stood up, pointing to her foot.

“It’s under there.”

“How big is it?” Steve asked.

“It doesn’t matter how big”. She said gently “It explodes then those weapons go up…” She trailed off.

And Clint dies no matter what, and as they wouldn’t ever leave a man behind, so did they.

"We need to start evacuating civilians.” Steve took a deep breath, “Rumlow…”

“We can start clearing the village but how many we’ll clear before-“

“Do what you can.” Steve cut him off. “Romanoff, have a chat with our prisoner, see if you can get him to talk, tell us how we turn this thing off”

“Yeah, not gonna happen.” She replied, not a trace of her usual biting sarcasm in her voice. “He’s out cold. Suddenly decided he didn’t fancy being captured after all and got a bit rough on the way up. I had to take him out.”

“Shit.” Katie muttered as Steve let out a long sigh, turning to face her as she stood, thinking something over. It wasn’t a great idea, but was the only chance they really had. So she decided to roll with it.

“Can you help me get the floor boards up?”

“Won’t that disturb the bomb?” He asked, frowning a little.

“Not if you do it here.” she moved about six foot to her left. “I can get underneath, see if I can disable it.”

Steve looked at her, then to Clint before sighing. It didn’t look like they had a choice.

“Alright.”

A minute later, Vibranium shield and steel knives had worked their magic as Katie and Steve had prised a space big enough for Katie to lower herself into, head first, torch in her mouth, phone held in front of her, on her stomach. She crawled over to the bomb and looked at it.

“It’s on a fucking timer too!” she sighed, swallowing as the timer had less than 5 minutes on it.

“How long?” Steve asked.

“Long enough…” she said, deciding not to tell them. She snapped a photo before dropping the torch to the boards beneath her so that it illuminated the dark space in front of her.

“Someone patch me through to Lawson …now.” she spoke

Less than forty seconds later Lawson’s British accent hit her ear.

“Nova.” he said.

“We have a situation.” She spoke calmly, although she was anything but. She didn’t like tight spaces at the best of times and there was a huge spider sitting to her right. And she fucking hated spiders. And she was facing a bomb, now with three minutes left on the clock. Swallowing her fear she sent the photo to Lawson’s computer, her hands shaking “Hawkeye triggered this, can we disarm it?”

A moment’s pause.

“Yeah, we can. I can talk you through this…”

Steve swallowed and looked at Clint, the man seemed surprisingly calm considering, but then he was used to staying still for long periods of time on stakeouts. He gave Steve a slight shrug and the Captain looked back to the hole Katie had shimmied into.

“You’re gonna need a knife or something sharp to cut the wires”

“Got it.” Katie wriggle to free the standard issue Swiss Army Knife which contained every single gadget known to man from her thigh pocket.

“Ok so first thing is first, you’re going to need to lift it out slightly to get to the wires ok. There should be 3…blue, white and red….but this is important Stark so listen.”

“Listening”

“The blue wire has to remain intact and in contact with the sensor under Hawkeye’s foot. So don’t cut it or pull it ok?”

“Don’t pull or cut blue, right.”

“You need to gently lift it out towards you, watching that blue wire, and turn it to the side so you can see the red and white wires…”

Taking a deep breath, with trembling hands she gently reached out and slowly, carefully turned the bomb to the side, letting out a small squeak of fear as the huge black spider moved closer.

“You okay?” Steve asked, hearing her noise.

“There’s a spider in here the size of a fucking Chihuahua.” Her voice was a slightly higher pitch than normal. Steve sighed, any other time her fear of spiders would amuse him. Not now.

“It’s gonna be more scared of you than you are of it.” He tried to placate her, but as he spoke he knew that was utter bullshit.

“ Lawson…I’ve got it…what now?”

“Cut the white wire first and then the red.”

Katie took a deep breath, her hands really where shaking now, and she took a deep breath trying to focus, ignoring the timer which was now counting down from one minute thirty. She reached out with her left to hold the white still and her right clutched the knife as she went to work. The wire was tough but in 3 cuts it was severed. She moved to do the same to the red, but on the third cut the knife slipped and slashed into the palm of her left.

She let out a yell of pain. “Shit”

“Katie?” Steve dropped to his knees, trying to see into the space but all he could see was her back.

“My hand slipped, I’m okay.” She assured him. Taking another breath she took another three slashes at the wire and eventually it gave. The light on the bomb went out and the timer stopped on twenty-five seconds.

“Boom.” She exhaled, her head dropping in relief, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Nice work Nova.” Lawson let out a breath.

Katie swallowed, “Thanks Lawson…errr boys, a little help?”

Steve moved first as she shuffled backwards and managed to get one strong arm round her waist and gently she folded herself up so that he could lift her out.

“You alright?” He asked and she nodded, breathing heavily, but he could see from the tears in her eyes she wasn’t. Before he could say anything, Clint had pulled her into a hug as Steve instructed the team to move in for extraction of the weapons.

“Thanks Nova.” Clint said as she stepped back.

Steve gently moved towards her and turned her to face him, “It’s okay, Doll, you did it.”

“Guess I did.” Katie’s breathing was still deep as the magnitude of what just happened overwhelmed her. She began to shake and Steve simply wrapped her in his large arms and she pressed her face into his Kevlar clad chest and he rest his chin on her head, looking at Clint who gave him a little jerk of the head, before he wandered out into the corridor to find the team.

Steve pulled back and gently took her hand, looking at the place her knife had gashed through the leather on her palm gloves. It looked fairly superficial, the leather having protected her in the main “That doesn’t look too deep but we’ll get the medic to look at it.”

Katie couldn’t feel it. She was numb, numb from how close that bomb had been from going up.

“Seconds…” she said, swallowing “Seconds, that’s it, we were seconds away from going up.”

“Hey…” Steve moved back slightly so he could look at his girl. “That doesn’t matter now, you stopped it. Everyone’s okay.”

The blood was pounding in her ears as she looked up at his helmet clad face, his eyes warm as they locked onto hers. She was starting to lose it, and if she didn’t find a way to ground herself she knew she was going to break down into sobs, and she didn’t want that. Not on a mission. Steve watched as she reached up to undo the clasp at the side of his chin strap and before he could say anything, although he really didn’t have anything to say, she’d pulled his helmet off. She looked at him, hair tousled, bottom half of his face slightly grubby compared to the top.

“Baby,” he said quietly but his words died as she ran her non-injured hand up the side of his jaw and then leaned up, catching his lips, hand on the back of his neck. Steve was surprised, but didn’t push her away, he never could. His arms instinctively pulled her closer as he kissed her back, everything else zoning out, until they heard footsteps and a voice which was slightly amused.

“Ok, nothing to see here.” Clint spoke. Steve instantly pulled back and looked over Katie’s head at the assembled team of STRIKE agents, Rumlow, Rollins, Evans and Nat stood at the front. Rumlow’s face was a picture and Steve, despite the fact he was kind of embarrassed about being caught snogging his girl in the middle of a mission, felt a smug sense of satisfaction.

My girl, asshole.

“Told you Rumlow.” Rollins was next to speak as Katie closed her eyes and pressed her forehead into Steve’s chest, the moment of adrenaline fuelled passion ebbed away and was replaced by a sudden worry of her effectively outing them without asking him first.

“Fuck me sideways.” Rumlow muttered “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Rumlow, you’re an idiot.” Lawson’s voice hit their ears “I aint even there and even I could see that a mile off. Mate, Fury only has one eye and I bet he could see it all the way from DC.”

Steve let out an exasperated sigh, but his arms didn’t let go of his precious charge as he issued an instruction. “Alright, wrap it up. Let’s get those weapons and move it out.”

His grip on Katie released as the team bustled into the room and he stopped to pick up both their helmets, handing Katie hers.

“I’m sorry…” she stuttered. “I didn’t mean to do that, I didn’t know they’d see.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” He spoke gently, brushing her face with his gloved palm

“You’re not mad?”

“No.” He shook his head as she took her helmet off him with an air of surprise. “I mean they had to find out eventually, right. Maybe it isn’t exactly how I would have chosen to do it but…”

Katie snorted “Better or worse than being caught in the kitchen?”

He gave a small laugh “Undecided. Come on, let’s help them pack up those weapons and we can go home.”

******

The two of them were careful to keep a distance for the rest of the mission and trip home, a professional front was imperative to Steve and Katie was also keen to keep it that way too. She didn’t want anyone saying that either of them were impartial or unable to keep themselves objective. That said, on the flight home they took the inevitable teasing that naturally was always going to come their way when the team found out that its Captain and Sniper were together on the chin. It was all well natured though, and there were no smutty remarks beyond Evans asking Katie if she’d had her bed reinforced now she was sharing it with a super-soldier. In response, she hit him square in the face with a well-aimed granola bar, as Steve flushed at the back of the jet when he overheard. The Captain’s sharp eyes, however, clocked that one person who wasn’t joining in the joking and teasing was Rumlow. He looked like he’d been slapped in the face, and all Steve could do was hope he wasn’t going to be a complete prick going forward.

At the debrief Fury was pleased they had gotten a result and surprised the entire team by handing Steve a wad of notes and instructing them to go celebrate a job well done, but the wink he gave the Captain as he left the room before looking at Katie in that way he did, with a smirk on his face left them both in no uncertainty that he knew what had gone down.

The team hit their favoured bar, Loris. Katie and Steve sat together, Steve casually resting his arm round the back of the bench they sat on, as the drinks flowed, food arrived and Clint and Rumlow organised a pool tournament. Pool was one thing, along with art, that Steve had been pretty good at before he got the serum so after a bit of coaxing he joined in, eventually winning after thrashing Lawson in the final. Declining the money, he told Clint to use it to get the team another round of drinks, but they were drinks he had no intention of partaking in. He wanted to take his girl home because he could tell she was still a little shaken from the day’s events.

He wasn’t wrong. Whilst she had sat and eaten and drinking, she wasn’t really listening. The sight of that bomb timer in front of her eyes, and that fucking spider… she gave an involuntary shudder and looked up to see the tournament was now over and Steve was making his way to the table she was sat at, Natasha nodding to him as she headed to the bar.

He dropped onto the seat next to her, leaned forward and whispered “Wanna get out of here?”

She looked around, glancing over at the bar where Rumlow and Rollins were chatting up a group of girls. Clint and Natasha were sat a few seats down, in discussion with Lawson about something whilst Evans was leaning on the bar talking to a few of the other STRIKE team. She nodded. Steve stood up, took her hand and pulled her off the bench, the pair of them making their exit quickly and quietly, jumping into a perfectly timed free cab.

They sat in silence, his thumb skating over the back of her knuckles on the short ride home, his hand releasing hers only when he had to pay the driver. He caught up with her inside the lobby, just as the elevator door was opening and he stepped in behind her, her breath catching as he dropped his head, nose nuzzling into the side of her neck below her ear before he placed a single, soft kiss on her neck. Her arousal was obvious as she bit her bottom lip and let her eyes fall closed as his lips grazed her neck a bit higher. Then higher still until they placed a chaste kiss on her jawline, and that was all she could take.

She turned round, eyes dark with lust and lips met his gently at first before the kiss grew more urgent and she brought her hands up to his face, sliding them back to tangle her fingers into his hair. The way she did that set every one of his nerves on edge and he found himself pressing closer and moved quickly so that he had her pinned against the metal wall of the elevator. His left hand gripped her hip tight, his right winding its way into her hair giving a gentle tug as he pressed his lips against hers, causing the kiss to deepen, a small whimper escaping her mouth. The doors opened to the elevator, and the two of them stumbled out, lips locked, her hands clawing at his hair still, the pair groaning as they went.

His lips started to stray, kissing the corners of her mouth, dipping down to her jaw and neck but she always pulled his face back to hers, kissing him encouragingly, and he knew there and then that there was only one way this was going to end. Which right now was absolutely fine with him, but he needed to know it was with her too. He pulled away and looked down at her, his eyes bouncing between hers.

“You sure?” He whispered, wetting his lips slightly.

“Stevie…” she replied, her voice barely audible over her deep breathing. “Shut up and take me to bed.”

And he knew then he was a goner.

He surged forward again, spinning them both round, pinning her to the panel in the wall which hid the closed elevator doors with his body. His mouth trailed down to her neck, softly kissing, drawing a sigh from her at the sensation as he continued to skate his mouth gently across her collarbone which was exposed on one side due to the slouching top she was wearing. His hands reached down to her thighs and he effortlessly hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, nuzzling into his neck before kissing across his jawline and his cheek as he carried her across the apartment and up the stairs. He was aware vaguely of two small thuds as she shucked off her boots as they went, before he reached the bedroom his lips back on hers, urgently kissing her as he carried her inside, kicking the door shut before he crossed the room and gently fell forwards, depositing them both onto the bed.

His lips claimed hers again, a moan of his own escaping into her mouth and his hands strayed to the bottom of her top. She nodded eagerly, hands going to run through his hair, before she shifted and held her arms up so that he could pull the top over her head. He tossed it to the floor as she reached for his before he pulled back, allowing her to slide it up and over his head, both of them smiling into the kiss as he settled back down on top of her, his hand running up the side of her torso.

She pulled away from him this time and he watched as her eyes followed her hands downwards before she looked back up at him as her fingers gently grazed his stomach, lingering there before moving down to his jeans. He bucked at the touch as she slowly undid his belt, taking her time as she locked her eyes onto his again, lust had turned into softness as she looked at him. He stared right back at her, her eyes reminding him of emeralds, deep green, speckled with dots of brown, the slight ring of amber surrounding her pupil reminded him of the sun. Telling him of the power she exuded over him and the warmth she brought to his life.

He was aware that his breathing had quickened and he let out a low growl before he kissed her, harder and his hands moved down to her jeans, deftly undoing the button at the front. He moved, pulling them down in one go over her legs before he stood slightly, ridding himself of his, the sensation of finally being free was a God send. Katie sat up, eyes trained on him and he swallowed thickly as she undid her bra. He took a second to take her in, he loved her tits, he’d always had a thing for a good “rack” as Bucky put it, and she was a sight to behold. All soft pink curves and rose bud nipples. He was achingly hard now, and he needed to do something about it. In a flash he was on her again, mouth hungrily covered hers as his hands trailed up her legs, to her hips, up the side of her body and then onto her breasts teasing gently. She groaned, rolling her head back on the pillow at the sensation, her hips bucking upwards.

“Fuck.” He seethed out at the feeling of her grinding up against his rock hard crotch, and he nuzzled at her neck with his nose again. She dragged her fingers up his spine as he buried his face in the side of her neck working at the pulse spot beneath her ear, the little noises of pleasure she was making were music in his ear. Her hips moved again and he decided to help her out, his hand moving down and dropping below the waistband of her panties making her gasp as his fingers worked her. She was warm, wet, and he loved the fact he had this effect on her.

Her hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from her lips at the sensations lancing through her body as he nipped slightly at her neck and then moved his mouth to her chest, taking her right nipple in. Her groans were growing louder now and Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to be in her, surrounded by her, feel her. His hands both shot to the side of her panties, completely forgetting his strength and he heard them tear. He dropped his forehead onto her sternum, letting out a groan at his stupidity before he heard a laugh, his head shooting up in surprise at the fact she found it funny.

“I’m sorry…” he blurted out as she continued to giggle.

“You literally just ripped my pants off”

“Guess I forgot my own strength.” he offered as explanation, looking at her, an apologetic look on his face.

“You know they were Victoria Secrets?” She quipped, looking at him. Steve had no idea what that meant, but he assumed it was some kind of expensive lingerie shop. A sudden joke popped into his head and before he could stop himself he shot it out.

“Sucks to be Victoria then.” and this made her laugh even more.

Eventually their laughter died down, and they shared another quick glance, and then her lips were back on his, still smiling as she flipped the waistband of his boxers down, and he shimmied out of them, before settling into the space in between her hips. She moved underneath him, telling him exactly what she wanted and he was so ready to oblige. He kissed her hard, his right hand tangling into her left as she reached down with her right, grasping him in her hand causing him to hiss slightly. She guided him to where she wanted him and he gently pushed into her. The feeling caused both of them to gasp and groan, Katie leaning back against the pillows as he stretched her, his girth and length filling her completely.

“God,” Steve breathed, temporarily paralysed by the way her tightness gripped him. His arms shook and he dropped down to his elbows, the hand around hers tightening as his entire body felt coiled tight like snake ready to strike.

The stillness gave Katie time to adjust to his size, but one she had she was aching for him to move, needing to feel him. She whimpered a little, her fingers digging into his lower back urging him on. “Stevie, please?”

He started moving his hips, slowly at first, building up speed as he gained more confidence, their hips rubbing together with every thrust. With every rock into her, moans of delight and pure pleasure filled his ear as his head rest in the crook of her neck, every inch of their bodies pressed as close as they could get. When she groaned his name, Stevie, the pet name that sounded so much sweeter coming from her, it was like a hot wire to his groin and he felt the tell-tale heat striking across his lower stomach he groaned again, wanting to hold out longer, wanting to get her there first. He brought his lips back to hers plunging his tongue into her mouth and she dug the tips of her nails into his back and he was completely overwhelmed by her. Not the sex, but her.

“Katie, I’m not sure how long I’m gonna…” He began to try and explain but then groaned again as she pushed up against him, his head dropping slightly as he struggled to fight it.

“Let me see you.” she said, nudging his nose with hers, her voice ragged. “Wanna see you let go baby…”

At her words he groaned and raised his head to look at her, her eyes soft and shining. He managed a few more shallow thrusts before he lost himself, stiffening and groaning as Katie watched him, his lips slightly parted as he bit his bottom lip, and then the eyes that had been locked on hers fluttered shut before he pitched forward to bury his face into her neck.

She held him running a hand through his hair as a final shudder ran down his body, the waves of pleasure finally began to subside. Her own heart was pounding with affection for her man. She didn’t particularly care that she hadn’t gotten off, nor did she care that it hadn’t lasted very long either, but he had made her feel good. He took his time, had tenderly caressed and loved every part of her, had appreciated her in a way no one else had before.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, “You didn’t even – I’m sorry.” He said again still kicking himself.

“Steve, stop. Just enjoy the moment. Please.” She whispered, kissing his temple.

Steve sighed as dropped his head to her chest, still inside her, as she ran her hand through his hair and down his neck. He stayed still for a while before he rolled off her and onto his back, pulling her with him so she could lie her head across his chest.

“It doesn’t matter you know” she spoke again, hand running through the soft smattering of dark blond and light brown hair on his chest “It was perfect because I was with you.”

“I just wish it had lasted longer.” he said, her words like a talisman in his chest as he cradled her close.

“It didn’t need to.” she looked up at him and felt her cheeks burning. She wanted to explain to him, exactly how she felt, but wasn’t sure she could find the words. She dropped her gaze from his face and he gently reached out with his spare hand.

“What is it?” HHhe asked, gently reaching out to tilt her face up to look at him.

“Just…no one’s ever made me feel like that, like this before” she said gently, her eyes shining. “You were so soft and gentle and…well I don’t think I’ve ever felt so wanted…” she trailed off, shrugging.

The band tightened across his chest slightly, how could anyone not want her? Gently he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“I like being your first.” he said, and she smiled.

They lay still for a while, his fingers gently combing through her soft hair before an idea suddenly hit him and it made him swallow nervously.

“We err…we didn’t… you know, use any…protection?” he said, stilling and Katie turned her head up to look at him.

“I got that covered, don’t worry…”

“How?” he frowned, confusion filling his features.

“Stuff has moved on since the 40s Steve.” she said, simply.

Her head returned to its spot on his chest and she gave a soft yawn. He dropped a kiss to her head and closed his eyes, pulling her closer, relishing the feel of her skin against his as their legs tangled together, the pair of them satiated and completely at peace

****

He was aware of her moving. He had his face pressed into the back of her hair, breathing in her gorgeous smell, revelling in her warmth and softness as her bare back was pressed to his chest, his arm wrapping around her, laying just under her breasts. It was all he could do not to moan as she untangled herself and he cracked an eye open, watching her bare ass and back as she made her way into the en-suite. Smiling softly through his tiredness he rolled onto his back, one hand straying to his hair as he lay still. Eventually he heard her make her way back into the room and felt the bed dip again. He could feel her eyes on him, simply watching. And it was all he could do to keep the smirk off his face.

“You get a good look?” he mumbled, shifting slightly, voice thick from sleep, eyes still closed.

“Sorry…” she said softly and he felt her finger gently tracing his jaw. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Well he was awake now, her touch igniting that desire once more. He shifted onto his side and cracked one eye open, taking in her appearance. Her long hair was cascading in slightly tangled waves round her face, and she looked absolutely stunning.

“I can think of worse things to wake up to.” he said honestly before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She responded willingly, his hand dropping to her hip before moving to her back and pulling her closer to him, the other arm snaking under her neck and angling her head to deepen the kiss. He rolled her over onto her back, one leg positioning itself between hers and he dropped his lips to her neck, nipping at that magical spot again. She let out a soft moan before she sat up slightly, pushing on his shoulders. It was just a hard enough shove to make him understand she wanted him lay on his back, and he was more than happy to let her take control this time. As she straddled him his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her face down to kiss him and as he did so she reached down between them, taking him in her hand and stroking him into full hardness which didn’t take much. He groaned but didn’t release her mouth as she adjusted position to take him in.

Slowly she slid down onto him, groaning into the kiss as she stayed pressed against him, and she began to work herself on top of him. She was quick to find a rhythm and her mouth fell open against his lips and she let out a shaky moan before sitting up fully.

This was another first for him and the sight of her on top, illuminated by the early morning sun sneaking in through her curtains was divine. He wanted to touch her, so he did, bringing her hands up to run them up her sides until his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs running over her nipples as she let out another moan. As she picked up the pace his hands went to her hips, pulling her down onto him harder, thrusting upwards to meet her for every move she made. She continued to move, quickening, her eyes never leaving his.

“Steve…”she groaned, as he tilted his hips up harder and he let out a groan himself, increasingly determined to get her there this time. As he felt himself beginning to tip over the edge, his hand moved from her hip to stroke at that spot between her legs and that did it. He felt her tense up and tighten around him, crying out loudly and unbridled as she shook. The sight of her coming undone on top of him, her cheeks flushed, lips pink, mouth open in a now silent scream, was simply incredible and quite possibly the single most exquisite thing he had ever seen. All of that, coupled with the force of her heat tightening even more made him lose himself again.

“Fuck, Doll…” the curse fell from his lips as he thrust upwards, before he spilled himself inside her again, the wave of pleasure deeper than anything he’d felt before. Katie collapsed forward onto his chest, her tremors subsided, both of them panting. He held her close, his fingers running up and down her spine as she let out a soft “hum” of contentment and he sat up, wanting to see her face to face. Still cradling her close he pushed the hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ears and she reached up, running her hands through his, causing him to close his eyes at the sensation of her nails on his scalp.

When he opened them again and looked at her something flashed in her eyes as the slight gleam of light through the curtains caught her face. She was looking at him, features soft, almost as if she was seeing him for the first time. His breath quickened slightly and he knew then that he was head over heels in love with her. No one had come close to ever making him feel like this and as he gazed at her, seeing the adoration in her eyes, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Katie,” he said quietly, almost nervously, as he pulled her closer, his nose rubbing up against hers, “I love you.”

She didn’t hesitate to reply, she didn’t need to. If she was honest she’d loved him now way before they’d even started any of this. So without missing a single beat, she spoke in return as their noses continued their lazy dance, the words coming easily.

“I love you too, Stevie.”

Her reply lit a fire in his chest and he kissed her softly, grinning like a total idiot as she was smiling too, the kisses growing softer and shorter until she pulled away completely, her hand on his cheek, her eyelids heavy. He glanced at the clock, it was little past 6 and they could sleep in today. He had no desire to run, no desire to leave at all, so he set them both and slid a hand under her neck and pulled her to him, chest pressing into her back. He swept her hair to one side and placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck before he pulled the covers back up over them and closed his eyes.

Right there Steve would have challenged any man on the planet to prove they were happier than him.

**** O/S Phobias

Chapter 8

**Original Posting**

[tpwkjerii]

a ghost’s melody

searching for a quiet place to study, you stumble across a seemingly abandoned library and recital hall. when you discover that you’re not as alone in there as you thought and begin to fall for the mysterious boy playing the piano, you start to wish you believed in ghosts before.

pairing: ghost!pianist!taehyung x reader

warnings: character death (not main, except for tae who’s already a ghost lol), slight angst, some cursing, kinda heated makeout session, sfw (PG-13)!

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 4.3k+

listen to: claire de lune and adagio for strings

a/n: first fanfic on here lol i hope it isn’t trash & pls enjoy loves!! xx

Kim’s Library and Recital Hall

At least that’s what you thought was written on the battered storefront. The building’s exterior was aged — the faded letters were peeling, the glass windows were dusty with years of negligence, the copper door handle was rusted from the elements, and the black-painted wood was chipping at the corners.

The store was a perfect match amongst the other ones along the deserted street. It was so ordinarily fitting that anyone could have easily passed it. However, it happened to be exactly what you were looking for — a quiet place to study and somewhere to potentially spend the night since your roommate decided to let you know at the last minute that her and her boyfriend would be in your shared dorm for the night.

With a small shrug, you moved towards the door and attempted to push it open. After a fourth push (that was more tiring than you’d like to admit), the old door finally creaked open. Surprisingly, dust didn’t meet your eyes as you thought it would, and with a brief inspection of the interior, you noticed that it was oddly clean — a stark contrast from its outer appearance. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that someone was diligently taking care of this place.

Paying it no mind, you moved further into the old store, basking in the silence and mildly soothing aura. The music-themed decorations and portraits of deceased musicians reminded you of your brother, and the quietness was a peaceful contrast from your hectic dorm (and, somehow, your campus library).

Before choosing a desk to work on, you checked your phone for the time.

4:37 PM

Nice, you thought. You should be able to get a few hours of work in while the sun is still up. Hopefully this place still has electricity or candles laying around. You sat down at a large wooden desk close to the storefront and pulled out your textbooks and papers, slowly beginning your studying.

You studied your notes in pure silence for 15 minutes when you heard a noise, but it was too quiet for you to distinctly make out what it was. It sounded like a scuffle, almost as if someone was walking but stopped abruptly. You turned and looked around carefully — maybe this place wasn’t as abandoned as you thought.

After looking around for a few moments and not noticing anything else, you returned to your books, although you paid much more attention to the pepper spray sitting in the pocket of your bag. Once twenty minutes passed, you slightly relaxed and hoped it was just a rodent. With a heavy sigh, you stood up from the desk and stretched, figuring that you could take a break and walk around.

With your phone in hand (and pepper spray in the other), you walked away from the desk and into a random aisle of books. You explored the various titles, noting that you hardly recognized any of them. It didn’t take long for you to realize this store was probably much older than you thought, considering that the most recent titles and portraits were from the late 1800s.

As you explored more aisles, you kept thinking of your brother and how much he would love this place you found. Yoongi always loved music and he never failed to humbly show off his natural talent at it. He once tried to teach you how to play the piano; unfortunately, you were too impatient and annoyed that you didn’t get it right away to ever succeed.

You were wrapped in your thoughts as you aimlessly walked around, now only thinking about how you would love to show your older brother this place. Suddenly, you found yourself at the entrance of a hall, and you stare in awe at the large grand piano sitting at the end. Despite its old age, it looked incredibly taken care of. The black paint was flawless and shined in the low sunlight, not a single chip in sight, and the ivory keys glimmered. You were about to walk towards the enchanting instrument when you heard the floor creak.

You froze in your tracks. That creak did not sound like a mouse, and you definitely didn’t hear anyone else enter this place after you. You tore your gaze away from the piano and turned around, your hand gripping your pepper spray. Weaving through bookshelves towards the table with your belongings, you cautiously looked for the source of the noise. But just as you turn the corner, you hear a gentle melody ring through the air.

Usually, this is the time where you would run. Or, if you were the character in a horror movie, the audience would be screaming at you to leave the store to avoid a tragic death.

But you didn’t want to run. Not because you found potential death exciting or because you wanted to piss off your imaginary viewers. But because the melody that was playing was the same one your brother spent months playing over and over again to perfect. It became so familiar to you in your home that you always associated it with him.

With a rapidly beating heart, you all but ran back to the empty recital hall. The volume increased as you neared the hall, and you held your breath as you finally approached the open doors.

“Yoon-” your whisper was caught in your throat as you made eye contact with a ghostly man. His face was devoid of any emotion, eyebags dark and defined, skin tone ghostly pallor, and eyes sullen and tainted with agony. Yet, he was beautiful. He had round feline eyes, defined jaw and cheekbones, full lips, and dark hair that fell elegantly on his forehead.

You waited as he continued playing the piece, knowing exactly when the end approached due to months of listening to it courtesy of your older brother. As the mystery man hit the last note, he looked back up at you, shock evident in his features.

“You’re still here?” he asked, his deep voice throwing you off guard.

“Y-yes, I am,” you started, finding yourself extremely nervous in his presence. You awkwardly shuffled your feet as you rambled, “I’m so sorry for intruding. I thought this place was completely abandoned, and I had no idea you were here. I’ll get going, so sorry again.”

With that, you turned to run back to your bag and get out. But he moved and grabbed your wrist at an unnaturally fast pace, and you gasped at how cold his fingers were on your warm skin. Goosebumps prickled along your arm as you looked up at him in shock and confusion.

He let go of you with a sheepish apology. “It’s just… it’s been a while since anyone has come by. You don’t have to leave,” he said, hastily adding, “unless you want to, of course! I cannot force you to stay if you do not wish to.”

A soft smile spread at your lips. This man was not nearly as cold as he looked or felt. His emotionless eyes seemed hopeful and his mouth was fixed in a boxy smile. With hope that this was fate of some sort, you told him, “I would love to stay.”

“What’s your name?”

“Me?” the ghostly man pointed to himself, oddly shocked at the question.

You nodded, adding with a small laugh, “I don’t see anyone else here who could answer my question.”

He breathed out a laugh as he answered, “Taehyung. And you?”

“Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

He grinned at the way you said his name, and continued, “What brings you here, Y/N?”

“Ah,” you nodded and propped your arms up on the table you two were sitting at. “Noisy dorm halls, librarians who don’t care about enforcing quiet rules, and a horny roommate. You?”

His smile grew at your brutally honest answer. He hesitated as he answered, “I live here. I take care of everything.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

Your mouth parted. “Are you Kim Taehyung. As in a Kim of Kim’s Library and Recital Hall?” you joked, relieved that he found your reference amusing.

“Yes, I am Kim Taehyung. I’m relieved you find that interesting,” he responded. You grinned at the way he answered, his tone and diction captivatingly formal.

“Well, you’ve done an excellent job maintaining the interior. The outside though… that could use a bit of help,” you admitted honestly, to which he laughed heartily at. “Do you get much business?” you asked cautiously after he stopped laughing.

He shrugged, the same boxy smile still on his face. “Not much, but it’s alright. The silence is peaceful.”

You nodded thoughtfully, sensing there was more to his answer but deciding not to push it. “It is very peaceful here, and if you ever need some help around here, I’ve got more free time than I’d like to admit.”

Taehyung laughed again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll consider it,” he responded genuinely, his voice growing softer for a second. “I’ll have to warn that working here isn’t as great as it may seem. It’s quite boring.”

“Pfft,” you shook your head, “boring? With the piano skills you have? I could spend all day listening to you play while I dust or shit like that.”

He basked in your ability to speak freely and jokingly with him, and at that moment he gathered the courage to ask the question that was lingering on his mind ever since you made eye contact with him.

“Why didn’t you run away when you first saw me?”

Your gaze faltered for a second, but a small smile returned to your face as you answered honestly, “I was going to run, but the piece you were playing reminded me of my brother Yoongi.”

A brief flash of shock passed on his face, luckily unnoticed by you as you continued your story.

“He used to play it so much, and it felt like fate to hear it again in this place,” you paused, looking back up at Taehyung with a sheepish smile and glassy eyes. “You see, as I walked around, I kept on thinking of how much Yoongi would love this place. Books and sheet music and portraits of musicians and silence. It’s just so so perfect for him. But, as much as I want to, I can never show him this place.”

“Why?”

“Yoongi died 3 years ago.”

[you]

goodnight yoongi. sleep well! i know you’ll do great at your performance tomorrow! mom and i will be waiting for you at the end !!

p.s. seokjin is invited to dinner next week ;)

[best/worst brother ever]

goodnight Y/N. thank you :]. treat me to some lamb skewers after?

p.s. you can text him yourself

[you]

of course, anything you want !!

sleep now, it’s already 3 am

p.s. why would i when i have you? :)

[best/worst brother ever]

ok, mom

[you]

>:(

When you turned your phone off to sleep that night, you didn’t realize that would be the last conversation you would ever have with your older brother.

The house was silent when you received the phone call.

Min Yoongi died in an accident on the way to the recital hall. A drunk driver hit his car, killing him and his friend and roommate, Kim Seokjin. The doctors did everything they could, but he suffered from too much blood loss...

You felt empty. Quiet tears escaped you as you sat in the passenger seat while your mother frantically drove to the hospital. The fresh bouquet of flowers you bought early in the morning to congratulate Yoongi on another performance well done was sitting in the backseat, the bright colors mocking your misery. Labored breaths left you as you ran to his hospital room, and you struggled to breathe when you saw his still body on the bed.

The doctor's solemn words drowned in the background as you fell to your knees. Your hands clutched Yoongi’s in hopes that he would reassuringly squeeze them again and wake up to say that it was just an elaborate prank. But he never did.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Taehyung whispered, offering a hand, which you gratefully took.

You shrugged, responding while wiping your wet eyes, “It’s ok. It was 3 years ago, and there’s really nothing to be sorry about. I’m not even sure why I told you.” You spoke honestly, which was odd since you barely knew Taehyung. For some reason, you felt as if you could trust him with anything.

“So what about you?” you asked after a few moments of silence. “Tell me about you. All about Kim Taehyung,” you finished with a gentle smile, your smaller hand still in his larger one.

“Well, I am 25 years old, a pianist as you saw, I grew up on my family’s farm before I moved to the city to study music with my uncle, and I eventually inherited the place we’re currently in,” he answered, his boxy smile growing as he told you more about himself.

“Wow,” you said, shocked at how much he told you despite knowing you for a short period of time. But you technically did the same.

“How did you like growing up on a farm?” you asked curiously, your hand unconsciously tightening your grip on his.

His eyes lit up as he replied, “It was peaceful. I loved the animals and spending time with my grandmother. The village was nice, too. My friends were always a few steps away,” he paused for a moment, “but when I started to play the piano that my uncle gifted me, I found my new passion: music.”

“So you eventually moved to the city to study music?”

He nodded excitedly in confirmation. “It was hard leaving my parents and grandmother,” he added. “But I tried to go back whenever I could.”

“It’s difficult leaving your family,” you agreed, unsure of what to say next. Luckily, Taehyung expertly carried the conversation.

“So Y/N, how old are you?” he asked, his boxy smile not fading for even a second.

You grinned and responded with the same tone he had earlier. “Well, I am 20 years old, I study Literature and Biology at the National University, I grew up in a city with my mom and older brother, and I found this place by complete chance.”

“You’re more interesting than I thought, Y/N,” Taehyung grinned. “And complete chance? What does that mean?”

“Well,” you started, “I was just thinking about how much I hated my roommate and dorm floor, and I somehow stumbled upon this completely deserted street. To be honest, I don’t even know where I am right now. Yet I’m still here talking to you, is that crazy or foolish of me?”

“No.” His left hand reached up to move a strand of hair away from your face. Your breath hitched and body froze as his cool fingers met your warm skin. “It’s not crazy or foolish at all,” he finished.

You melted under his haunting gaze, and you didn’t even notice how the sun had fallen outside and how the lights automatically flickered on.

Five hours.

Or at least it felt like five hours of you and Taehyung simply talking. At this point, you were really hoping he wasn’t planning on murdering you because you honestly have never met a guy this perfect. It seemed like he didn’t have a single flaw!

With each conversation and joking remark, you found yourself moving closer and closer to him until you two were thigh to thigh. Your denim jeans met the expensive material of his trousers, and both of your warm hands were covered by his much colder ones (something you chose to chalk down to iron deficiency or other potential medical conditions).

To merely say you were growing feelings for Taehyung would be an understatement — you were falling in love.

Eventually, he offered to show you around the store, considering you only really looked at the front. His hand around yours, he led you towards the back, where there were less bookshelves and more music-oriented displays. There were encased instruments, very old photos, worn sheet music, and more portraits.

“My uncle loved collecting portraits,” Taehyung said when he caught you staring at one of Jung Hoseok. “He said it was like always having a memory of someone, even if they passed.”

“Your uncle was right. Although I think pictures and a camera may be cheaper,” you teased, unaware of the slightly pained smile on his face. You looked around some more, and your smile fell as your eyes landed on a very familiar-looking portrait.

The curve of his lips, strong jawline, uneven eyelids, defined eyebrows — it was like you were looking directly at him. Your breath hitched as you looked at the inscription below the oil painting.

Kim Taehyung / 1877 - 1902

“Taehyung…” you called. He didn’t respond.

“Taehyung,” you called again, slowly turning around, your eyes meeting his panicked ones. “You… You’re …”

“Dead.”

“What do you mean you’re dead? You’re standing right here! But the portrait. Oh my god. Is this a dream? Have I been dreaming this entire thing? Ghosts aren’t real! Are you a demon? Oh fu -”

“Y/N!” he shouted, his arms wrapping around you to calm you down, his icy skin only further reminding you that a dead man was hugging you.

“You’re so cold! Oh fuck! You’re so cold! I’m so stupid!” you continued panicking, completely unaware of how to deal with this if it really wasn’t a dream.

“Can you please give me a chance to explain?” he asked, his low voice soothing you.

Begrudgingly, you nodded, and melted into his tight grip. It was hard to believe that he was a ghost when you were physically touching him, a complete contradiction of what online conspiracy theories and horror documentaries (and your biology lectures) told you.

“I didn’t lie about anything I told you. I was born in 1877 and I died in 1902. I was poisoned by another musician who grew jealous of my success. I chose to stay in the human realm as a ghost instead of pass on.”

You remained silent, needing a moment to think. Was he telling the truth? But Taehyung didn’t have a reason to lie to you, nor did he have a reason to be honest. And why was he so insistent on explaining himself? Did he have the same feelings as y —

“I’m telling the truth,” he said abruptly, sensing your inner turmoil. “I understand if you do not trust me. It would be hard for anyone living to trust me in this situation, but I want you to know that,” he paused, looking at you with such emotion that it made you want to reach out to him and take all the pain he was feeling away. “That I am being genuine because I care about you the way you care about me.”

You gasped quietly in shock.

“The last living person to enter this place was 60 years ago, and no one ever stayed,” he began sadly. “But then today, you,” he looked down to make eye contact with you, “you came in and you stayed and we talked for hours.”

As much as you wanted to comfort him, you still remained silent.

Taehyung continued, “Even when I was alive, I never encountered anyone who spoke as passionately as you, who was refreshingly honest, or who cared about what I said as much as you do. Y/N, I hope you understand that our time together today has meant the world to me, and I would never betray your trust or presence for anything in the world.

Your eyes teared up at his confession, and you barely managed to whisper, “Today meant a lot to me too.”

Taehyung let out a relieved breath and tightened his hold on you. “I may be a dead man but my feelings for you are true. I hope that you’ll accept me as I am and -”

“Tae-” you attempted to interrupt him, but he cut you off and only tightened the hug.

“And if you do not accept me, I understand,” he finished, his voice strained as he said the last two words.

“Taehyung,” you started, but he interrupted you again.

“Please, if you wish to leave do not say anything else. I fear that I might not be able to take it if you bless me with your voice and presence again just to leave soon after,” he pleaded, his hands gently holding you to his chest as you two still remained in a fond embrace.

“Taehyung,” you started again, feeling his chest tighten as you gently spoke, “Although this is all very hard for me to understand, I do accept you.” He breathed out a sigh of relief. “But,” you said sharply, and he winced at the word, “You need to explain everything for me to truly believe in you. How am I seeing you? How does this all work?”

Begrudgingly, Taehyung released the hug, and looked at you with a cheeky and fond smile. “How are you seeing me? Easy, as a ghost I can choose when I want to be seen,” he paused, “and when I don’t.” As he uttered the last word, his body disappeared in front of your eyes, and a surprised gasp fell from you.

“You! You! What the fuck!” staring as he reappeared, his body once again covering the wall behind him.

He laughed again at your shock, also finding your blunt language endearing. “It’s something all of us ghosts can do,” he said casually while you stood in shock. He continued, “I can also feel sensations like a human when I’m in this form.”

He stepped toward you again, leaving only a few centimeters between your bodies. “For example,” he started, grasping your warm hand and bringing it up to his cheek, “I can feel the warmth of your hands and how they feel on my skin.”

He dropped your hand and bent down, his beautiful face now directly in front of you. For a moment, you two only looked at each other, his strong eyes holding your curious gaze and his cool breath sending a shiver down your body. “And,” he finally said, “I can feel chills as your breath fans across my face.”

He stood fully up again, leaving you both relieved and disappointed. “I can also feel emotions just like I used to when I was alive, although I’m sure you already know that,” he told you, the boxy smile returning to his face. Your heart still recovering from the intense eye contact only a few moments prior, you could only muster a nod in response. “Would you like me to continue?” Taehyung asked.

“No,” you admitted, shocking him as he was ready to explain more.

“No?”

“I believe you, it’s difficult to, but I believe you,” you told him, your voice quiet as you looked up at him fondly. “This is all confusing as fuck, and I really don’t know what the future would look like for us but,” you pause briefly, watching as his smile grew to meet his eyes, “I have feelings for you, and I want to try and make this work.”

Taehyung grinned and wrapped you in a tight hug, the ice cold of his skin no longer sending an unnerving chill down you. He looked down and used his finger to lift your face to look at him. Wordlessly, he closed his eyes and leaned down.

Following his motions, your lips eventually met. Taehyung kissed you with gentle passion, his full lips molding perfectly against yours. His hands moved down to the small of your back, and he pulled you in tighter to deepen the kiss.

This was better than you expected. His cold lips set a fire within you, and the way he moved his lips against yours made you feel as if your chest was going to burst at any second. The moment his lips touched yours, and yours his, you knew that you could never feel anything like it again.

A moment of adrenaline seeped into you as you parted your lips, greedy for more. At this, electricity coursed through you and you felt as if a fire was ignited between you, and as Taehyung deepened the kiss the fire grew, nearly consuming you both whole.

Your lips moved in sync with his for what seemed like an eternity before he broke the kiss, leaving you breathless. He allowed you to catch your breath before he spoke, “I’ve wanted to do that ever since I saw you enter.”

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, a teasing tone evident in your words.

“It would be rude of me to walk up to a beautiful stranger and steal a kiss from them,” he answered, his hands moving to play with your fingers.

“I suppose it would be, but I wouldn’t have minded,” you admitted, making deep eye contact with him once again.

Taehyung smiled at your words, and he waited a moment before saying, “I know someone that I think you would be happy to see again. If you feel comfortable with me, I can take you to him.”

Your eyes widened, and at that moment, you could hear the same melody he was playing earlier coming from somewhere deeper in the hall. In that moment, you remember seeing the book that Yoongi had when he first learned the song, and how the composer was named Kim Taehyung.

A tear rolled down your face as you looked up at Taehyung in shock, his confirming nod causing a choked breath to leave you. Yoongi already found this place.

With the brightest smile you’ve had on your face in years, you gently grasped Taehyung’s hand. “I’ve never felt more comfortable in my entire life.”

[lettrespromises]

#LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification. ──➤ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋!

> Kita Shinsuke sent you a letter, would you like to read it? #CC of the letter directed to : @babythotshq​.

──➤ #𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff. ─➤ #𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 : Hallmark movie marathon. ➤ #𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : none.

letter from the author :  ❝dear reader, dear @sachirou-senpai​,  this piece is my participation for the babythots winter wonderland collab and also the occasion to wish you, ellie, the merriest christmas of them all (although i’m late.) i’m hoping this letter will warm your heart, i loved writing every bit of it and couldn’t stop thinking about whether or not you were going to like it. i adore you.  sealed with a kiss,  nikki, your secret santa.❞

The table in the living room had become the metaphorical throne for all sorts of garments— amongst them, a pile of candies and other diverse kinds of sweets gained the omnipotency of the attention because, after all, what could be a movie marathon without the inexorable stack of candies which followed? It would be like breaking a silent tradition, movies (whatever the kind of movie for that matter) and snacks went hand in hand together like an unspoken rule. But just when you thought the messy pyramid of sweets on the table wasn’t enough, your glance fell on the figure of your boyfriend holding a bowl of popcorn freshly taken out of the pan where they had exploded like a myriad of fireworks just a few minutes ago. His hold was so careful, a true reflection of his own personality, after all. « Shinsuke, love, don’t you think we have enough snacks right now? » You half-questioned, your gaze flickering between the ridiculous amount of sweets on the table and the incredulous look painted on his face.

« If there is one thing I learned from the movie nights with the rest of the volleyball team, aside from knowing how to break up a fight with the twins, is that there is never enough snacks. » Touché. And he knew that he was right by the way a hint of a grin manifested itself amidst his facial features.

« I mean, when you’re putting it like that, it’s not like I can resist, right? » You half-asked, knowing this question had every characteristic of a rhetorical question. You just wanted to drown yourself in a paradise of sweets, drown by sugar, and snuggle close to your boyfriend. Whilst you were holding the TV remote in your right hand, the left one was busy patting the vacant spot next to you on the couch, explicitly inviting the salt and pepper haired man to sit next to you and find himself the victim of your ceaseless waves of love. Kita did as you told wordlessly, and took a sit next to you as you felt the cushion deepen a bit at the newly added weight, but his presence was already comforting you.

« Are you ready for the marathon? Because once we start, there’s no stopping! » The words poured from you mouth in a continuous flow of enthusiasm, your orbs moving onto his credulous expression which quickly morphed into a faded smile at the sudden realization of spending so much time with you and you only.

« You make it sound like something alarming. Should I be worried, dear? » Kita tilted his head back to face you, the grin on his face deepened to dig into his cheeks and let appear a pair of precious dimples, fine lines blooming at the corner of his eyes.

« There’s nothing to worry about as long as I’m here, just stuff your face with sweets, cuddle me and watch these good ol’ cliché movies with me. » There’s nothing he could complain about. He reckoned himself that he had neglected his time dedicated to you to invest it in volleyball-related activities, but without stating the obvious, he much preferred spending time with you rather than hear the continuous bickering of the twins.

« Right. Nothing to worry about as long as you’re here. » He repeated without any real kind of purpose, planting these words into your skin by kissing your temple as if he was sealing a promise. Like a reminder to himself, if you will.

Your fingertips soon found the right combination on the remote to find the very first movie of the marathon ahead of you, your digits moved mechanically without second thinking, as if you had practiced these moves over and over again whilst waiting for Kita to spend this night with you.

The screen of the TV was soon colored by a whole spectrum of colors gravitating around the color scheme of Christmas, an accord of red, white, green and gold. But even with the distraction and the colorful explosions on the screen, Kita had still his hazel eyes set on you, a gleam of genuine adoration dancing in the corner of his irises. And why of course, no one could truly ignore his glance, and even when he was looking at you with metaphorical hearts in his eyes, you still felt a pressure weighing on your shoulders. You looked up to him, a brow raised to emphasize wordlessly your interrogation.

« It’s nothing. » He said, having already picked up on your silent question and so your eyes darted back to the screen, « you’re insanely beautiful », he whispered to no one but himself, yet another vocal reminder of how lucky he was.

But the more the scenes arrived and went away, the more you felt your body lean on Kita. He felt the urge to adapt his hold on you to your new position, bowing his right arm so he could welcome you in the warmth emanating from his chest and thus challenge the fireplace. Your cranium was laying between his shoulder and his collarbone, a soft balance where your head fit just fine.

But regardless of the parts of his anatomy, your body parts always seemed to fit perfectly with his. The latter reminded Kita of an old tale his grandmother used to tell him and how lovers, a long time ago, used to be one. But the Gods were so jealous of their powers and love that they decided to separate them, and since their natural form had been cut in two, each one longed for its own other half for all of their life, and so they would throw their arms around each other, weaving themselves together, wanting to grow together.

Truthfully, Kita did not pay one bit attention to the movie. He memorized some of the characters, surely, but all he could think about was how well you were fitting in his arms, how poetic this embrace was, how you were molded just for him and how you were molded just for him. And whilst still thinking about this myth, he was sure that he was your soulmate in another life.

Before he could even realize it, the second movie had started, and he could’ve sworn to himself that it was the same plot… Or was it? Oh well, he was going to pay attention this time, it was a promise to both himself and you. His hold tightened a bit around you, accustoming to the way he had straightened up himself to adopt a position perfect to focus solely on the movie.

It’s safe to say that he was absorbed. He had made mental maps of who was who and how this character was linked to another, hell, he was even already guessing what was bound to happen in the rest of the movie. Kita focused so intensely that it seemed that the noise emanating from the screen had cancelled out the sound of your soft snores, after all, his heartbeats were the perfect lullaby to fall asleep.

You looked so at peace, your dreams were surely the guardians of your quietude, and he had least hoped that he was in one of them. His fingertips brushed ever so softly against the crown of your hair, each motion was calculated not to wake you up, and it’s like he fell in love with you all over again.

« Because once we start, there’s no stopping, you said. Well, my love, it looks like you met your own end. » Kita’s words were mere whispers thrown into the quietude of the reigning atmosphere.

He solely needed to move his hands behind your thighs to put you in a position which would make it easier for him to carry you, those thoughts soon became reality as he was now holding you, a forearm secured behind your thighs whilst his other hand traveled from the nape of your neck to meet his other palm. He had never been so cautious in his life, after all, your slumber was at stake. And each step he took on the stairs was as quiet as the vacuity in outer space.

Kita’s hand gained its original spot back on your neck as he began to close the distance between your asleep form and the mattress, protecting your neck just like how you’d protect the neck of a newborn to avoid any harsh movement. And there you were, in your most serene before his eyes after a poor attempt at challenging him for a hallmark movie marathon.

You woke up the next morning, the sudden feeling of hot trails left by Kita’s hold on you that night awakened at the same time as you, and although your vision was blurry from the sudden adjustment to the lightening and the intrusion of the rays of sunshine which had pierced through your curtains, you could discern a foreign presence on your nightstand amidst your distorted vision of reality.

You blinked once. Then twice. And smile at the realization.

It was a basket composed of fruits, tea bags, water and other kinds of bakeries his grandma must have surely given him. But the most drastic detail was the note he had left along with the rest, in that detailed lettering of his :

« My love, make sure you eat your breakfast properly. I am looking forward to the second half of the movie marathon tonight with you. I love you.

Signed : Kita, your boyfriend. P.S : you are safe as long as you are with me, too. »

[madasthesea]

Trope: Age Regression

The first Tony said to him when the smoke cleared was:

“My father won’t pay the ransom.”

His voice was about three octaves too high and his head a foot and a half too low.

Peter’s heart was so loud in his ears he could barely hear.

“What?” he rasped.

Tony’s dark eyes darted around the room, his chest visibly rising and falling with each frantic breath. When he spoke, his voice trembled, but he straightened his shoulders and jutted out his chin like he wasn’t afraid at all.

“My father won’t pay you to get me back. He told me.”

Suddenly Peter’s heart was pounding for a whole different reason.

“He told you?” Peter hissed. Tony flinched and Peter took a step back, taking a deep breath.

He looked around him, at the time travel device he and Tony had been working on. Peter wasn’t sure how it had gone so abysmally wrong. But the evidence was standing in front of him, fidgeting and trying not to cry.

“I didn’t kidnap you,” he said after a long moment.

Tony looked dubious at best.

“I swear I didn’t,” Peter insisted. “I was doing an experiment and it went... wrong.”

Despite himself, Tony glanced back at the device, looking curious. He hesitated, glancing back at Peter, then asked, “What kind of experiment?”

“A complicated one,” Peter hedged, crossing the room to examine the device. Half of it was still smoking slightly, the complicated wiring burned and shriveled. Peter sighed.

“Well, clearly you screwed it up,” little Tony said, crossing his arms over his thin chest with a huff. Peter raised an eyebrow.

“Clearly,” he said, unimpressed. Tony’s eyes darted away again, nervous color on his cheeks. When Peter shifted, Tony automatically flinched away, his eyes flashing to the door like he was considering running.

Peter looked at Tony a little closer. He looked exactly like he did in the pictures Peter had seen, him with his circuit board, his computer, the things he’d built at such impressively young ages. But even without those pictures, Peter would have known instantly who was standing in front of him: His eyes were exactly the same—dark, intelligent, sizing everyone and everything up within seconds.

“How old are you?” Peter asked.

Tony hesitated. “Eight,” he finally said.

Peter took a deep breath, letting his cheeks puff up as he blew it out.

“Um, FRIDAY, let Pepper know. And Bruce.”

“Of course, Peter,” FRIDAY answered, and Tony jumped, looking up at the ceiling with wide eyes.

“That’s FRIDAY,” Peter said, then bit his lip. Could he tell eight-year-old Tony about the AI he would create in thirty-five years, or would that affect the timeline of Tony’s life? Was the Tony standing in front of him a fifty-three year old turned eight? Or had Peter pulled the eight-year-old Tony out of his time and sent the adult Tony back to 1978?

He changed the subject. “Are you hungry?”

Tony shook his head, looking wary, but then his stomach audibly growled. Peter snorted.

“Come on. I make some mean grilled cheese.”

“How do we fix it?” Pepper whispered, glancing back at the child with Tony’s eyes, kicking his feet as he sat at the kitchen island eating a grilled cheese sandwich.

“I... I have a few ideas, but I don’t know for sure,” Peter hissed back, his voice high. Pepper had taken the news rather well—better than Peter, at least, who was panicking more and more with each question.

Bruce rubbed his forehead.

“I’ll take a look at the time-travel device,” Peter stammered. “See if I can reverse the polarity. That might do the trick. Maybe.” He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “This is all my fault.”

Pepper laughed a little and rubbed his back. “Sweetie, I’ve known Tony way too long to believe he wasn’t at least eighty percent responsible for this little snafu. We have three geniuses living in this building and another four on speed dial. We’ll figure it out.”

Peter gave her a small smile, then glanced back toward Tony, who had finished his sandwich and was now watching them, the hesitance in his expression slightly lessened. He smiled at Tony and got a twitchy little grin in return.

 Tony was pouting as he rubbed his arm where Bruce had drawn some blood. Peter steered him out of the medbay with a hand on his narrow shoulder, having overseen the ‘torture’ (as Tony called it, his little voice cracking a little bit when he’d seen Bruce coming toward him with a needle) since Pepper was busy taking care of Morgan and alerting the other residents of the tower about what had happened.

Peter looked down at Tony and rolled his eyes. Tony had apparently always been a drama queen. He led the kid up to the common floor, not quite sure what to do while Bruce was running a few tests, hoping to establish just which Tony they had with them.

A few of the team were there, talking quietly on the couches. Natasha was standing a few feet away, on the phone with Scott, judging by the voice coming from the other end. Tony fell a few steps back, taking in the new space. Peter let him, knowing that the kid was still skittish, unsure if he could actually trust these people.

“Steve?”

Everyone whirled to see Tony, his eyes wide with shock. Peter's heart sank. He turned back to watch as Steve saw who had addressed him, his face falling just a little bit as he looked at the boy. He stood from the couch, coming closer.

“I-I mean, Captain Rogers, sir,” Tony stammered, his hands twisting behind his back.

Steve put on his best Captain America smile.

“You must be Tony,” Steve said, crouching down and offering a hand to shake. Tony took it, his own hand dwarfed by comparison.

“How…” Tony said, looking around. There were tears in his eyes. “My… my dad will be so happy to see you, sir.”

Steve’s smile turned a little pained. “And I would love to see your dad again. But let’s get you taken care of first, ok?”

Tony nodded, still staring at Steve like he was the greatest thing he’d ever seen.

“I’ve gotten the things you listed, Peter,” Bruce said, coming into the room, and Tony’s attention quickly changed over to him. He was a little tightly-wound like that, Peter realized—anything that changed, any new noise or sight immediately attracted his attention and it wasn’t until Tony decided that it was safe that he tuned it out. “We can work on fixing the device tonight.”

“I can help,” Tony said, his young voice confident and eager.

Peter and Bruce shared a glance. Tony seemed to interpret this as doubt, because he huffed and frowned, stopping just shy of sticking his bottom lip out.

“I can. I’m smart. Probably smarter than you.”

Behind Tony, Pepper and Rhodey both bit their lip to keep from laughing.

“We know, Tony, that’s not what we’re worried about,” Bruce quickly soothed. In reality, it was an insanely complicated piece of technology, and while Tony was a genius, he was still eight years old. And any small mistake could make the difference between bringing their Tony back and not. “But having you around the device might set it off, due to the rift in space-time centered around you. You’re an anomaly.”

Peter also had to bite back a smile. That was a good bit of off-the-cuff bluffing.

Tony looked slightly pacified, but his pout was still in place.

“In fact,” Peter said. “I’m not sure I should help either.” He made eye contact with Bruce, telling him to just roll with it. “Since I was in the room when it happened, I might be exposed too. Bruce, maybe Rhodes and Scott can help you and Tony and I will steer clear, so nothing goes wrong.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Bruce agreed.  

 “A planetarium?” Tony asked skeptically, looking up at the glass-plated building in front of them.

“Heck yeah!” Peter cheered, holding onto Tony’s hand—to great protestation—as pedestrians pushed passed them. He’d needed something to get Tony out of the tower while Bruce and Rhodey worked, because he kept trying to sneak down to the lab. Lucky for all of them, his babysitter also happened to be Spider-Man and was able to catch him each time. “Think about how much new stuff we’ve learned since 1978, kid.”

Curiosity lit up Tony’s eyes. “Do people live in space now?”

“Come find out,” Peter said, pulling him toward the entrance.

Despite Tony’s original protests, Tony was instantly captivated by everything in the planetarium. He and Peter jumped on the Geiger counter simulator to mimic an earthquake, and they played the little video game to try to land their rockets on the moon. Peter took a picture of Tony walking on the faux-Mars surface and sent it to Pepper to let her know they were ok.

Tony spent nearly 15 full minutes sticking his hands in the cloud synthesizer, letting the water vapor swirl around his hands as he trailed them along, a look of wonder and peace on his face. Peter watched him, wondering how Tony would react if Peter told him that when he was older, he would invent a suit that let him fly amongst the clouds, through the atmosphere and out past the stars.  

Peter hesitated when they got to the stairs leading up to the fourth floor—the one they’d added after the Invasion of New York in 2012. It was all about the discovery of extraterrestrial life and interplanetary travel. And, as the only person on Earth to have travelled through a wormhole and lived to tell the tale, Tony Stark was an important part in that era of science. Would knowing somehow mess up Tony’s life and by extension all the people he didn’t save?

Tony didn’t have any such apprehensions though. He bounded up the stairs before Peter had decided if they were going or not, and Peter was forced to follow, nearly running into Tony where he stood stock still at the top of the stairs.

Tony’s wide eyes looked around at the exhibit signs that read ”The Confirmation of Extraterrestrial Life” and “The Future of Alien-Human Contact” in bold letters.

“Aliens are real?” he asked, nearly breathless. Peter couldn’t tell if all the pictures and videos were interesting or scary to him, but he crouched down anyway so he could talk to Tony without having to speak over the crowd.

“Tony—” Peter started, only to be interrupted by the sound of jeering, pre-pubescent laughter. He turned to see a group of four boys, around 12 or 13, all with mocking expressions. They were looking at Tony.

“Aliens are real?” One mimicked in an exaggeratedly high voice.

“Were you born yesterday?” Another asked, laughing and shoving the shoulder of his friend, egging him on.

“See any family resemblance?” The first one spoke again, his voice breaking slightly as he snorted, gesturing toward a nearby picture of a Chitauri.

Tony took a step back as if in shock. His little shoulders stiffened and his eyes widened before his face set in a poorly constructed mask of indifference. He didn’t say anything, which was so different from the Tony he knew now, who made it his goal to be brasher and louder and snarkier when he was hurt.

Peter stood and even though he was shorter than most his age, he towered over these little pre-teens. He put a hand on Tony’s bony shoulder, holding him close to his side.

“Hey,” he snarled.

All four faces fell in sync, as if just seeing Peter for the first time.

“Get lost,” he snapped at them, glowering, and all four hightailed it down the stairs.

Tony’s mouth was pursed in a thin line, his eyes determinedly dry.

“Tony,” Peter said, crouching down again in front of Tony.

“I want to go,” Tony said imperiously, but his voice was too high to sound natural.

“Hey, no, we don’t have to go. We want to learn about aliens, remember.”

Tony turned his head away but Peter put a hand under his chin and guided it back.

“Don’t worry about them, ok?” Peter told Tony. “You’re smarter than all four of them put together.”

Tony looked a little surprised, then offered a fleeting smile.

“Do you want to stay?” Tony bit his lip, but nodded. When Peter started walking again, Tony stuck just a little closer to him than usual.

Peter hurried a little faster than he had on the previous floors and managed to keep Tony from reading the various quotes and informational signs. He therefore missed his own name be referenced a couple times. They played one last game, stopped off at the cloud simulator again, then stepped out into the bright sunshine, squinting.

They crossed the plaza, teeming with people and Tony looked around in curiosity.

Peter noticed Tony repeatedly glancing at a street vendor selling ice cream and cotton candy.

“Do you want some?” Peter asked. Tony immediately looked straight ahead, his ears red.

“No, sir, I’m sorry.” Peter made a face at being called sir by Tony.

“Well, too bad,” Peter said, and Tony’s shoulders drooped despite Peter’s light tone. “Because I want some, which means you have to help me eat it whether you want any or not.”

Tony perked up, looking up at Peter in surprise, a hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

It made Peter think of something Tony used to say—when he was his actual age, not eight. Anytime Peter protested to Tony buying him something, Tony would scoff and say, “Are you really going to deny me the chance to see your face light up? That’s mean, Parker.”

Peter grinned, happy to turn the tables, just for a little bit.

“Come on,” Peter urged. Tony happily trotted alongside Peter as they went and bought some blue cotton candy. They sat on the edge of the fountain, tearing off pieces with sticky hands. Peter laughed at the face Tony made with his first bite, his eyes bright with delight as the treat dissolved in his mouth.

They finished their cotton candy, Tony swinging his feet as they dangled a few inches above the ground. Peter washed his sugar coated fingers off in the fountain, and Tony followed suit.

“All right, buddy, we better head on back.”

By the time they’d gotten off the subway, Tony’s sugar high had worn off and he started lagging behind as they walked the last handful of blocks. There was a moment of terror where Peter glanced over his shoulder and couldn’t see Tony. He stopped dead, ignoring the disgruntled looks people threw at him. After a second, where Peter’s heart pounded against his ribs, Tony’s small figure became visible among the crowd. Exhaling heavily, Peter quickly grabbed Tony’s arm and tugged him up against the building.

“You scared me,” he admonished gently.

Tony blinked up at him, a befuddled mixture of confusion and exhaustion. “Sorry.”

Peter just shook his head and crouched down next to him. “Hop on.”

Tony stared at him.

“Come on, piggy back ride.”

Hesitantly, Tony clambered onto Peter’s back, letting out a small laugh as Peter quickly stood, hooking his hands under Tony’s legs.

Tony was a barely noticeable weight to Peter as he started walking again, the tower looming ahead of them. He was warm though, reassuring Peter that he hadn’t actually lost young Tony Stark in the middle of New York.

“What do you want for dinner, buddy?” Peter asked.

“I get to pick?” Tony asked, his bony chin digging into Peter’s shoulder.

“Sure,” Peter said, shrugging and making Tony yelp and grip onto him tighter. Peter smiled to himself.

“Anything I want?”

“Anything,” Peter confirmed. “As long as it isn’t too spicy. Morgan doesn’t like spicy food.”

“Who’s Morgan?” Tony asked, his voice going high with his curiosity.

Right. Peter had forgotten that Tony didn’t know Morgan, just like he didn’t know any of them. It felt so wrong.

“She’s my little sister,” he said simply.

“Oh,” Tony mumbled, then went very quiet, all excitement at the prospect of picking dinner gone.

“What’s up?” Peter asked.

More silence.

“Tony?” Peter craned his neck, looking over his shoulder only to see Tony’s dark curls.

Tony shook his head.

“Don’t make me tickle it out of you,” Peter warned. “In the middle of the street where everyone can hear you squealing.”

Tony’s head shot up. “No!”

“Alright, so tell me,” Peter commanded, bouncing on his toes to make Tony laugh and take any sting out of the order.

Tony’s little arms tightened around Peter’s shoulders.

“I wish you were my brother,” he muttered, burying his face against Peter’s back.

Peter swallowed, his chest warming. It was a little weird hearing his father figure say he wanted Peter for a big brother, but having his father figure be turned into a eight-year-old was a little weird, too. But it was nice to know that regardless of age and history and responsibility, Tony thought of Peter as his family.

“Yeah?” he asked. Tony nodded. “I’ve always wanted a little brother.”

 True to most eight-year-olds when given the chance to choose dinner, Tony asked for pizza, which they were happy to oblige him with. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he was told they were allowed to eat in the living room while watching a movie. He settled down on the couch wedged next to Peter, his hair still horribly messy from the impromptu wrestling match he’d had with Steve while they waited for dinner. Peter shared a look with Pepper, silently agreeing that he was really freaking adorable.

Peter, who had done the math with Tony’s age and realized that, in Tony’s mind, only one Star Wars movie had been released, eagerly suggested they watch the next one. Tony perked up, looking excited for a second before shrinking in on himself.

“Dad says it’s a stupid movie. Space doesn’t work like that.”

Every adult in the room frowned, but Peter did one better.

“Has your dad been to space?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Tony shook his head.

“Then what does he know?”

Tony’s jaw dropped, his eyes lighting up with impish delight at the insouciant remark.

“So, Star Wars?” Peter suggested again. Tony nodded so hard he looked like a bobble-head.

By the end of the movie, Morgan was asleep in Peter’s lap and Tony was barely conscious, leaning against Peter’s side. Pepper almost melted into a puddle when she looked over at them and dutifully snapped a picture while Peter rolled his eyes, blushing.

“I’ll take this one,” she whispered, carefully lifting Morgan into her arms while nodding at Tony, “if you take him.”

“Yeah, I’ve got him. Goodnight.”

Pepper leaned over and kissed the top of Peter’s head, then Tony’s, who stirred slightly. Then she disappeared into the hallway.

“Petey?” Tony slurred as Peter picked him up. Peter smiled a little at the nickname Tony had adopted as soon as he heard it from Morgan.

Peter took Tony to Rhodey’s currently unused room, since it was closer to him and Pepper than the usual guest rooms. When he tried to set Tony down, however, Tony clung to his t-shirt.

“Tony?” he whispered. He was shocked to see tears clinging to Tony’s dark eyelashes. He sat on the bed, settling Tony against the pillows, the boy still clutching his sleeve.

“Don’t send me back,” Tony pleaded, his words thick and heavy with sleep.

Peter’s gut twisted, his mouth parting in surprise. He’d known Tony had had a rough childhood; Tony was doing better about being honest about that, about his unhappy relationship with his father. But to want to stay here, with strangers, rather than go back to his parents and his home and everything he knew? It must have been worse than he thought.

What should he say to that? How could he tell Tony “I like you, but I want my grown up Tony back now, sorry?” Would explaining that Tony was actually meant to be fifty-three help or hurt? He didn't know.

Luckily, he was spared from having to say anything, because when he looked down again, Tony was asleep.

Sighing heavily, Peter gently pried Tony's hand from his sleeve and laid it on the bed. He pulled the covers up to Tony's chin, then left, shutting the door silently behind him. He'd deal with that later. Right now, he had a time machine to build.

 Peter woke up late, having only gone to bed at four AM when Bruce had tricked him into going and getting snacks and he’d come back to find that FRIDAY had locked him out of the lab. The machine was coming along fairly well—they assumed, considering the blood results had been unable to determine exactly which Tony they had with them right now.

Peter headed to the kitchen and grinned when he saw Tony and Morgan both already there, Morgan regaling Tony with a very longwinded and very elaborate story about the trip to the zoo she’d taken a few weeks ago. Tony seemed more interested in his pancakes than the story, but he nodded along diligently between bites.

“Peter!” Morgan cheered as he walked in, which always made him feel pretty good. Tony looked up and smiled too, perking up a little bit.

“Hey, squirt,” he said, ruffling Tony’s hair. “Good morning, Momo.” He tickled her side and she squealed in delight.

Peter piled his own plate with slightly cold pancakes from the tray left on the counter, sitting across from Tony at the table before drowning them in syrup.

“Petey, when is Daddy coming back?” Morgan asked suddenly. Peter froze, his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Back?” he repeated stupidly.

Morgan nodded, pouting. “Mommy said there was an emergency he had to fix, but shouldn’t it be fixed by now? I miss him.”

Peter glanced over at Tony, who was watching them from under his lashes, like he was pretending he wasn’t listening.

“Well, sometimes emergencies take a while to fix, M.” Peter paused, looking at Tony again, who looked back up at him, his eyebrows drawn down in a miniaturized version of Tony’s scowl. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

Tony’s mouth twisted into a frown and he suddenly jumped off his chair, leaving the room. Peter sighed, then stood too, following him out.

Tony was sitting in the living room, on the same couch he’d fallen asleep on last night. His toes barely scraped the floor.

Tony jutted his chin out when he saw Peter, his thin arms crossed over his chest.

Even at eight, Tony was a genius. He clenched his jaw, looking straight at Peter with a furious pout that didn’t quite hide the way his bottom lip trembled.

“Am I—” he started, his high voice breaking. “Morgan’s dad, that’s gone, I...”

Peter sighed, then came and sat on the coffee table in front of Tony.

“You were building a time travel device,” Tony said.

“Yeah.”

“And it went wrong.” Peter nodded.

Tony sniffed, then demanded: “Am I your dad?”

Well, not technically, Peter thought, but he wasn’t going to get into that complication with an already distressed eight-year-old.

“Yeah,” Peter said softly.

Tony hiccupped, wiped his nose with his hand.

“Do... do you like me?” He asked, quietly like he didn’t actually want Peter to hear.

Peter’s first instinct was to assure Tony that he loved him, but he remembered Tony talking about how he loved his dad almost as much as he hated him and realized that to Tony, an abused, neglected kid who had spent most of his life thinking he could never be a father, liking and loving were very, very different things.

Peter knelt on the carpet in front of Tony and smiled. “You’re my best friend,” he said honestly.

Tony’s eyes went huge, filling instantly with tears. Peter held his arms open and Tony threw himself into them, burying his face against Peter’s shoulder as his little body shook.

Peter rubbed his back until Tony calmed down, sniffling only a little bit as he sat back in Peter’s arms.

“I’m supposed to be 53?” he asked in disgust. Peter nodded with forced solemnity. Tony’s nose wrinkled. “That’s so old.”

“I know. You have gray hair and everything,” Peter agreed, wrinkling his nose to match Tony’s, making the kid giggle.

“Do I groan every time I stand up? Jarvis does that cause he’s ancient.”

“Every time,” Peter whispered, like it was a secret. “And you fall asleep watching TV.”

“No,” Tony gasped, looking so horrified Peter couldn’t help but laugh.

“Peter.” Peter turned and found Bruce watching them with an almost sad half-smile on his face. “It’s done.”

Tony’s smile dropped and he looked at Peter with wide eyes.

“It’s ok,” Peter assured him.

“Am I... am I going to remember?” Tony asked.

Peter sighed, standing and taking Tony’s hand. “I don’t know, kiddo.”

Tony paused as they passed the kitchen, where Morgan was still sitting at the table, playing with her stuffed Spider-Man toy.

“Ok.”

“Ok,” Peter echoed.

They went down to the lab, where Rhodey and Pepper were waiting. They both gave Tony a hug while Bruce set up the machine. Tony gave Peter another long hug as well, then dutifully stood where Bruce told him to.

There was a flash, some smoke, and eight-year-old Tony was gone. In his place stood the Tony Peter knew so well, with his crows feet and gray hair and reading glasses.

Tony blinked, looking around. “Pep, when did you get here? Bruce? What happened?”

Peter stepped forward and hugged him. He’d liked young Tony but he’d missed his Tony every minute. He liked being the one to bury his face in Tony’s shoulder, having Tony cup the back of his neck and hold him there.

“Kid? You ok?”

“Yeah,” Peter sighed. He could hear the others making a tactical retreat behind him, but still didn’t pull away from Tony, and Tony didn’t make him. He’d learned to appreciate Peter’s clinginess.

“Hey, are you and Pepper going to have more kids?” Peter blurted.

Tony did pull away now, a look of surprise on his face. “Where did that come from?”

Peter shrugged, tucking himself under Tony’s arm as they made their way out of the lab. “I’ve always wanted a little brother.”

Tony snorted. “I already have two absolutely terrible children, I can’t handle a third.”

“Hey.”

Tony shook his head, tightening his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “I guess you never know, kiddo. Life is full of surprises.”

Peter huffed a laugh, thinking about the last day he’d spent with a miniaturized Tony. “Don’t I know it.”

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: escape room 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: minagi tsuzuru/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 3.4k words, 3 images

𝐚𝐧: the combi of my love for this tsuzuru sr card + a certain enabler + my first time wearing handcuffs being in an escape room = the birth of this fic. it’s chaotic, but so is every escape room experience i’ve had. wtf is this fic.

One of the perks of having Tsuzuru as a boyfriend was that the two of you always found ways to have fun and go out on dates without spending a lot of money. Neither of you were big on splurging out a bunch of money anyway— not with you rather spending your allowance on necessities and Tsuzuru being the King of Part-timers™.

Watching community and college plays, having picnics, movie marathons, making dinner together, going grocery shopping, taking advantage of coupon sites, couples promos and happy hours to get great deals on things you wouldn’t normally be able to just for the ultimate discount...

It was domestic, it was homey, and it was Tsuzuru through and through; you loved every single second of it.

Which was why you were surprised when he suggested going to an escape room together.

“Those can be kind of pricey, right?” you replied, raising your voice slightly to make sure he could hear you despite the noise you were making in the kitchen. You turned the burner to high heat, scooching the veggies over to one side of the pan, melting the remaining butter in the other half.

“Oh, well, a friend gave me a 20% discount coupon. Apparently he didn’t need it anymore,” Tsuzuru’s voice was a little quiet coming from your phone’s speaker, and you quickly put down the soy sauce to adjust the volume before going back to the stove.

“I figured there was some kind of catch,” you replied with a soft chuckle as you continued stirring the veggies and sautéing the rice. “When do you wanna go? I know we’re both busy over the weekend, and that’s when we usually—“

Your hand halted its motions as soon as Tsuzuru uttered the word, “tomorrow.”

It wasn’t like you weren’t free, thankfully you only had one, albeit three hour, lecture during Tuesdays, but wasn’t he saying it a bit suddenly? It was a Monday evening, after all.

“Why tomorrow?”

Your boyfriend’s awkward laughter rang, but he remained undeterred as he explained to you his reasoning— going to an escape room would be a good way to get more writing experience, especially in terms of creating and feeling the ambience.

“Plus, not only is it cheaper if we go together, but the rates are also lower Monday to Thursday,” after a few seconds of silence on your part, he quickly added in, “and! And, we usually don’t have dates like this… so it’ll be fun, right?”

That thought process was so like Tsuzuru that you couldn’t help but smile.

Oh, the rice and veggies were already turning brown?

“You know what? I’m not even surprised,” you commented, adding and stirring in the rest of the ingredients. Ahhh, it was starting to smell heavenly, “by the way, have you had dinner yet?”

“About to. Excited to figure out what kind of curry we’re having,” a giggle escaped you upon hearing Tsuzuru’s deadpan voice, “are you almost done cooking?”

“Just about done!” after giving the rice a taste, you decided to season it with a pinch of salt and pepper, “thanks for giving me your fried rice recipe, by the way. Even though I’m the one cooking it, it feels like I’m about to eat something you made with love~”

As you were pretty much done with the kitchen, Tsuzuru’s exhale was a lot more audible to you. You could already envision the slight quiver in his tight-lipped grin and the way he would avert his eyes for a few seconds as he addressed you.

“Seriously, don’t be so cute,” he said, sounding a little exasperated, “sometimes I don’t know how to respond anymore.”

“A writer at a loss for words?” it was steadily getting difficult to keep the bubbling up amusement in check— you should probably be serving yourself dinner and accomplish your work for the night, but in the same manner it was always fun to flirt with the brunet. “When you put it that way, it makes me want to act even cuter for y—“

“Anyway!” you couldn’t hold back your laughter at his sudden interruption. Alright, that was enough for the both of you tonight.

“So are you free tomorrow?” he asked.

Well, who were you to be able to say no to that?

You completed signing the waiver the staff asked you to fill out, before turning to Tsuzuru.

“I forgot to ask, but which room are we playing? They have, like, 3 different ones here.”

Your eyes followed where Tsuzuru’s pointer finger landed— a simple but eerie poster in black and white, the three masks you could commonly see in craft stores plain and copies of one another, save for one thing. The first mask had gloved hands atop its eyeholes, the second had them covering where the ears would be, and the third had them placed over the lips.

Domain of Discernment.

“I don’t know much about it, but it’s one of the more popular ones. Apparently we’ll be held captive by some serial killer named Sire Maniac, and we’ll have one of our senses taken away,” he explained. Before he could potentially say anymore, one of the personnel went over to bring you right by the room entrance.

After giving a brief rundown of rules and some info about the room itself, she brought out an unused pair of foam earplugs and a blindfold. “Since there’s only two of you, we’ll be taking out the not being able to speak part. Both of you, choose who gets their sight or hearing removed for 50 minutes.”

You and Tsuzuru turned to look at each other, quietly discussing amongst yourselves which option would be more beneficial, coming to the conclusion that you would be the one to don the blindfold and he’d be the one with the earplugs.

“You might accidentally fall asleep if you had the blindfold,” you joked, “besides, I trust you to be able to guide me.”

Not one to be a killjoy or cheat, he plugged in the foam properly as you get your blindfold tied securely by the woman, making sure it definitely wouldn’t loosen up midway through the game.

When the both of you are within the room already, the both of you hear (well, Tsuzuru lip-reads) the woman say one more thing.

“After hand-cuffing you two and I leave the room, the timer will start. Good luck.”

… hand-cuffing?

With a sound of a click and seeing the door shutting from the distance, the both of you knew the timer would be counting down from 50 right about now.

You’re the first to speak up. You’re unsure where he’s facing right now, so you pulled your left hand knowing the pull of the metal chain would catch his attention, and you were right.

At the slight pressure on his right hand, he turned to face you with a hum leaving his mouth, and unexpectedly finding himself stupefied at the sight of you. You opened your mouth to say something, and he can excuse himself all he wanted that it was him not used to lip-reading yet, but he knew it wasn’t the truth.

He felt a little guilty, really. You both knew how flustered or embarrassed he could get around you, but how blissfully unaware you must be right now that his brain was literally mush because of your blindfolded self and how you were handcuffed to him. He, well, he never thought… no, he could never—

Time to kill that train of thought. Right now.

He should really be responding to you right now. What… what were you saying?

“You want me to describe our… surroundings?” he sighed in relief as you nodded. Okay, at least a part of him was still functioning properly. All he had to do was focus on that and not hyper focus on you.

The two of you were in a cell of sorts— barred, jail doors preventing your exit into a much larger room, which inevitably would lead to a door the both of you would escape to.

Though the jail room was significantly smaller, there were an assortment of items to sift and look through— boxes with and without locks, some papers scattered on a small desk, a lampshade that was left turned off, and a CD player were what stood out the most to him.

After relaying it to you, you pulled him again by your shared shackles as you asked him to read out what was in the papers—the first, a hint on how to figure out the number combination to unlock one of the boxes and a code decryption guide.

The second, a torn page from a “book” of either plants or poisons, based on the content and stylisation. Atropa belladonna, also known as deadly nightshade.

“Why are shade and floor highlighted though?”

Another pull on the cuffs. Another look at you— and trying not to be awkward about it as he combined his lip-reading with whatever the earplugs couldn’t block out of your voice.

“Shade? You said there was a lamp shade, right? Maybe a key or something is hidden under there?” you suggested, a pout set on your lips, “don’t know what the relevance of floor is, though.”

He didn’t have to look very far, the papers being situated on the desk beside the lampshade. It’s in his second time staring though that he realised something’s off with it. “You’re right, there’s something in the lampshade.”

When he lifted the bell-shaped cover, he’d come to find that there was no lightbulb in the first place, but a thin flashlight cleverly inserted within a vase. “If there’s a flashlight in the vase, then—“

“Shine a light on the floor!” you exclaimed, excited at the prospect of being able to move forward with the game, despite not being able to see.

Doing just that, he swished the flashlight left and right, verbally listing all the letters he could see.

“X, O, I, C, T…” you repeated, before trying to clap your hands (keyword: trying to, handcuffs say no), “the order is toxic! So the encrypt—“

“I’ll decode it ASAP,” Tsuzuru replied, immediately referring to the guide the “killer” oh so graciously left there.

“The passcode is… 420652,” he fumbled with the digits on the only 6 numbered padlocked box, before grinning, “alright, we got it!”

Another tug, and at this point he’s already aware that tug or pull on the cuff equals you having something to say.

“If they were gonna do a 420 joke, they should’ve inserted a 666 joke for the full eerie, creepy effect.”

Okay, just how was he able to lip read that perfectly? Was he just that used to the dumb jokes you made?

“I can just imagine your dream escape room— all the hints and puzzles are meme related,” the earplugs were unable to block your laugh, ringing through the room as he opened the box. A key, and a CD.

Knowing that between the two remaining boxes left, one of them needed a key so that was pretty much solved. The disc, on the other hand…

He called your name, you turning to face him based on the direction of his voice. “Since there’s a CD player and a CD, and unless I go really close I wouldn’t be able to hear anything—“

“I’ll listen carefully, no sweat!”

“I swear, if I hear the word wall another time, I will scream... and this isn’t even a horror room!”

The two of you came across your first real obstacle. Your audio just talked about poisonous vines growing on walls and other surfaces, while his box just contained another note that neither of you could decipher whatsoever. For five minutes, the two of you stood there, pondering.

Every once in a while, Tsuzuru would check the giant timer— currently displaying that 35 minutes were left.

“… honestly, just give it to me,” you suddenly spoke, Tsuzuru’s shoulders going up in shock.

“Give what?”

“The box! While we try to figure it out, I’ll use my nonexistent luck to just guess the passcode somehow,” you explained, feeling up the type of padlock it was “it’s just rolling everything around anyway until it magically opens.”

Within less than a minute, you had figured out the passcode.

“I’m—“ Tsuzuru trailed off, clearly just as shocked as you were. Your eyes probably would’ve been wide open right now.

“Eye… so this is where all my luck went,” you said, before shaking your head to refocus yourself, “okay! So inside the box is a… another key? It has buttons… car key?”

You hand the object to the brunet, who, upon taking it from you spared no second in his next actions.

“Wall,” he said out loud, pointing the car keys at the wall. With one press of a button, the wall, slowly but surely, opened to reveal another room. Though you couldn’t see it, the sound was loud enough to amaze you as well.

“Worm,” you breathed out, “pretty lit, not gonna lie.”

You wouldn’t know but the room was actually extremely dark, so not lit at all. Thank god he had a flashlight or else the handcuff + your blindfold + him not being able to lip read combo would be… particularly deadly.

The misunderstandings, he could already imagine it. Ah, well, for the writing experience.

“I don’t know what worm means, but yeah, lit.”

“Sorry,” Tsuzuru apologised as he bumped into you for the nth time.

Obstacle number two was unlike any other. It wasn’t another audio recording, neither a puzzle nor riddle.

“Ah, shit, sorry!” you shouted for the nth time, raising your voice as much as you could so Tsuzuru would be able to hear you properly.

This was getting ridiculous. You were able to figure out the meaning of an audio file after a few loops, while Tsuzuru got to work reading more clues and unlocking locks. The real problem, however, was since the room was dark and had limited space, the two of you tended to crash against one another even with what limited movement you could make.

You had to wonder— did the staff get some sort of amusement or feel any pity watching people stumble around in this room through the CCTV? It wasn’t so bad in the jail room, but this closet? storage? room gave you two a run for your money. How did other people get through this room, genuinely? Especially the bigger parties?

“… I have an idea,” Tsuzuru mentioned. You wait for him to tell you what it is, his hesitance confusing you. However, before you could have said anything, you felt his strong arms wrapped around you.

Was… was there an equivalent to a verbal keyboard smash? Even if you weren’t saying it out loud to save you the embarrassment, the fact still stood that your brain was legit going ztesxrdctijmoljhnge right now. Help—

“How does this… help?” you asked, still a little confused by his motive. He wasn’t really one for PDA, and despite the two of you being the only ones in the room the fact still stood that the escape room staff are probably required to glance at the CCTV monitors every once in a while to check up on you two.

“Since we’re… handcuffed, and there’s barely any space it’d be better to just stay together,” he explained as nonchalantly as possible, “sorry, it’s just for this room. We’ll go back to normal when we get to the last room.”

See, if your brain was working right now, you’d be able to think of a counter or a better solution— actually, if you could see right now maybe you could point out something about Tsuzuru’s face that screamed he was lying, but something about escape rooms just made your logic go brrr.

That, or you were just a simp for your own boyfriend.

… not gonna lie, the chances of it being both were pretty high.

“Makes sense. Can’t bump into each other when you’re already stuck together,” you said, already convincing yourself.

Sorry to whoever’s manning the CCTV monitor, it was their fault for handcuffing the two of you anyway.

Well, this set up wasn’t that bad. Other than, you know, getting to hug Tsuzuru, you were able to still keep doing your task while he did—

You heard the padlock unlock after your fingers pressed a certain combination of numbers. Pushing the device upwards, the cabinet doors opened as you removed the lock.

“It’s a digit push combination padlock! How are you doing this? Blindfolded?”

“I… I have guessing powers. For locks.”

“I’m considering robbing a bank or business with you now.”

“Awww, cute couple’s date idea!”

After two or three minutes of Tsuzuru doing some last minute riddle solving, the sound of jingling keys and him letting go of you let you know of one thing— you two were almost out.

With a writer compromising one half of the team, and an exceptional guesser and context clue figure-outer as the other half, you weren’t gonna lie— the last room was kind of anti-climatic to go through.

…

SIKE!

Every time the two of you ever accomplished anything, be it decrypting a message, unlocking something, or finding a hidden item the two of you still reacted to it— Tsuzuru being more on the shookt side and you being on the hype side.

With fifteen minutes to spare, only one thing was left to do— finding who Sire Maniac’s real name, and then decoding that name into number form so you could use it on the exit’s number pad lock. It was pretty obvious to you that you had to use the number equivalents of the name, but first… you needed to know the name.

“You sure you don’t want to try your luck?” Tsuzuru teased, procuring a huff out of you.

There were only two clues. The first was a letter to an A. R. Nicolas, detailing something about being thankful for a book.

Initially, the two of you thought that that A. R. Nicolas would be his real name, but clearly it was some sort of pen name based on the second clue— several torn pages from a book penned by the very same A. R. Nicolas the letter was addressed to.

It was clear— Sire Maniac and A. R. Nicolas were the same person, but what was his third identity? His real identity?

“What are the poisons on the torn pages again? Those usually have something to do with the answer,” you asked Tsuzuru. The sound of shuffling of paper entered your ears as he began listing them off.

“Ricin, amatoxin, tetradotoxin, chloropicrin, batrachotoxin… and arsenic.”

“Huh… arsenic is the only one that ends differently, lol,” you pointed out with a laugh, before it quickly died as the realisation dawned on you, “no fucking way.”

“Okay what the hell, I think you’re on to something,” Tsuzuru replied hastily, “because A. R. Nicolas, as in A. R. Nic. Arsenic.”

“Tsuzuru. Tsuzuru. Tsuzuru—“ you chanted, before laying out one last game-changer, “Sire Maniac. Is a fucking anagram. For I am Arsenic.”

With a speedy enter of the number 2773642, the two of you had achieved freedom.

“Not gonna lie, some parts of it were a little cliche, but… I had fun,” you told him, the two of you walking home together, “I felt simultaneously dumb and a genius at the same time.”

“Same to both, honestly,” Tsuzuru replied, before looking down at your hand linked with his. “Huh, haven’t you had enough of being stuck with me?”

You rolled your eyes. “I could say the same to you— didn’t you totally take advantage of us being handcuffed together? Or me being blindfolded?”

It was just a joke, but Tsuzuru’s sudden sputtering caught you off guard. Did… aha, no way, did he actually enjoy that gimmick?

“Tsu~ zu~ ru~”

“Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not it—“

“Are you sure? Because—“

“You’re misunderstanding something.”

“I’m just saying, it’s better to be honest~”

As the stoplight turned red, the two of you finally found the time to take a good look at each other. The laughter that erupted was instantaneous.

“Thanks for going out with me today,” Tsuzuru said softly, the blooming smile on his face impossible for you to not mirror.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you replied, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

After a few seconds, the stoplight turned green, and the two of you continue making your way back home.

want to order again?

𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬: ⤷ curium fairway (the person who sent arsenic the letter) is an anagram for “i am currywaifu”.

⤷ the “reader is good at guessing part” is just based off of me. being really good at guessing padlock combinations.  ⤷ the hugging part was based on my two irl friends (who are dating) hugging in front of the cctv

⤷ the “one sense gets removed” and “being handcuffed to someone” part is based on two different escape rooms i played

⤷ i wasn’t supposed to make a whole concept for the escape room with media and riddles... but i decided to finally make use of all the research i did before on poison. am i on a watchlist?

[anonwriter27]

Trust in Me Ch2

Y/N didn’t really understand the hype surrounding the arrival of the Gods.  She had been there the day the avengers had received a letter from Asgard, informing them of Loki’s mind control at the hands of Thanos. Apparently with his brother’s trust and a never-ending interrogation, Loki finally cracked and revealed what happened the day he fell from the Bifrost.  

At the time, everyone seemed to accept the letter as truth (Clint less so) and went about their business.

 Apparently seeing Loki in person had provoked another reaction entirely. Everyone seemed stiff, their backs straight and a scowl etched on their faces. Y/N didn’t like the tension, so she hung back, only peaking slightly from behind the doorway.

 Y/N had seen Thor before and found him to be pleasant enough, though he was slightly wary of her. Y/N’s family on her father’s side had a history dating back to the Vikings and sadly their brutality hadn’t softened in time. Thor didn’t particularly care for them; so when he saw the signature Tatum look in Y/N’s appearance, he was put slightly on edge.

 Over the years he had grown a little more accustomed to her presence, but Y/N did not wish to push on his discomfort and kept a respectable distance from the thunder God.

 Thor walked into the living space, heavy boots stomping against the hard wood floors and Tony’s yells of “I don’t think so,” bouncing off the walls. Thor was always a magnificent presence when he entered the room, he wasn’t imposing, just striking; so striking that, had there not been so much commotion about it, one might miss the shadow of another figure lurking behind the mighty God.

   The team were waiting for one of his snide remarks, a spiteful comment or cruel jibe. But Loki just stood there, allowing his brother to speak on his behalf in that booming, bellowing voice.

 Loki hated being spoken for, but it was necessary. With Odin’s demand for him to serve time on Midgard, Loki could not risk messing up the Allfather’s dynastic plan, lest he be sent to the Jotunheim.

 “I know of your grievances with my brother dear friends, but this is a new beginning for Loki. Allow your righteousness and goodness to spread forth onto him.” Thor proclaimed, lifting his fist in the air for dramatic effect.

Loki couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling at his brother’s pathetic attempts to rally the avengers to their side. He looked at each member of the heroic team, most of which were familiar faces. There were some new ones though that looked less angry but more apprehensive to see him.

 He noted the witch first, he could sense her juvenile attempt to tap into his mind. ‘That’s going to get annoying’ he thought.

 An odd-looking man with an unmistakable infinity stone in his head. ‘That could be worth investigating,’ Loki decided.

 The two men surrounding the soldier held the same posture as their captain. Loki assumed them to be soldiers too.

 Then there was the child. Although Asgard had no qualms with sending young boys off to battle he had thought it to be illegal on Midgard. Oddly though Loki found he didn’t mind this new recruit too much, he was the only one smiling directly at Loki.

 “So you want us to take him in?” Nat asked, bringing Loki back to the conversation at hand.

 “No.” Tony and Clint firmly stated at the same time as Thor grinned and yelled “Yes!”

 “Tony, we don’t have much of a say in this.” Pepper said, reading carefully through the letter sent from Odin.

 “Pepper’s right, besides this has already been signed by government officials.” Bruce agreed, taking off his glasses, “It’s a done deal.”

 “It’s not a done deal, I am undoing this deal, the deal is undone!” Tony was losing ground and he knew it.

 “But Mr. Loki was mind controlled Mr. Stark, maybe we can get to know him better.” The child said with pleading dark brown eyes.

 Loki decided he liked the young avenger, and that he liked being called Mr. Loki.

 After much deliberation and numerous bottles of scotch, the avengers begrudgingly agreed to Thor’s request and Odin’s demand. Thor then took it upon himself to re-introduce Loki to his friends. Many of the older members of the group sat in their chairs, sipping their dinks, silently contemplating the events of the evening.

 Clint had left as soon as Loki had walked further into the room. Those who had known Loki from New York nodded their heads in acknowledgment of his presence, but that was by no means an indication that they were accepting of his presence.

 “…and this is the spiderling!” Thor bellowed.

 Loki quirked an eyebrow at his brother, confused by the name.

 “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Loki! I’m Peter… or spiderman. But you can’t tell anyone… I mean everyone hear knows…I’m not saying you’re a gossip, it’s just a secret…is all…” Peter rambled, clearly dumbstruck in the presence of Gods.

 Loki merely smirked, “A pleasure.” Was all he said, but it was enough to put Peter at ease.

 Loki didn’t mind his brother’s insistence on these introductions, what bothered him was how comfortable Thor was amongst this band of heroes. He was so relaxed and composed, like he belonged. Loki knew he could never feel that way here, nor would he ever want to, but it would be so much easier if he did.

 As they made their way through the room, Loki noticed his brother’s demeanour change. Thor seemed a bit more restrained, less boisterous, and the source of this change appeared to be peaking behind the door.

 Loki didn’t recognise this avenger either. A pretty little thing, but apparently shy; she all but flinched when Thor looked her way.

 Thor cleared his throat, “Ah lady Y/N, this is my brother Loki.”

 The young girl made her way over to the brothers followed closely by Natasha who, upon seeing the interaction, thought Y/N might feel more comfortable with her there.

 “Hello.” She said meekly.

 She could barely look him in the eye. Since Loki had not recognised her signature Tatum looks, he thought she may be afraid of him; but something told Loki that was not the case.

    Y/N knew she was being rude, but her anxiety with introductions was all consuming, and with Thor’s unease around her, Y/N assumed Loki would be equally unimpressed.

 The God of mischief opened his mouth to speak but was swiftly interrupted.

 “That’s close enough reindeer games.” Tony said, walking quickly over to the group.

 “My brother means her no harm Stark.” Thor assured.

 “Problem?” Loki sneered.

 Tony squared his shoulders, “Problem no. Pain in my ass, sure…excruciating migraine that will only by numbed by the sweet nectar I like to call whisky…”

 “Tony, please.” Pepper spoke, with extra emphasis on the please.

 “This is gonna be fun to live with.” Nat muttered into her drink earning a chuckle from Bruce.

 “I have been here less than ten minutes Stark, what grievances could you have possibly procured against me so soon?” Loki spoke with venom.

 Before Tony could respond, Thor stepped in.

 “Y/N here is Tony’s niece, he is within his rights to be protective, brother.”

That made Loki pause, his withering stare directed at Tony softened as it moved towards Y/N. His piercing gaze seemed to knock the air out of her lungs.

 No one had really looked at Y/N this intently. Normally people avoided looking at her at all costs, no one had ever tried to read her before.

 His attention confused her, but it sparked a curiosity of her own.

   ‘Stark’s niece, how intriguing.’ Loki thought.

 He looked at her in that moment, noting no significant family resemblance between the two. There was a clear fondness by the way in which the young woman relaxed in her uncle’s company, but nothing notably similar.

 What a strange creature she seemed, to be amongst a band of heroes and be so scared.

 Loki gave her a dazzling smile, lifted her hand to his lips, and after a quick kiss declared, “What a pleasure this is.”

 It was the last thing he said before a blast of energy knocked him through the wall.

[writerfromtheshore]

MorbuVir-04: A Bionicle Coronavirus Story

Brander picked through the remaining pieces of his forge. He realistically knew he wouldn’t find much, but a part of him hoped for anything salvageable within the wreck. He was going to have to start over— but to have some pile of tools, scraps, anything really would help him better set up anew.

Around him, other Ta-Matoran dug through other parts of the building, looking for anything salvageable underneath the tons of protodermic bricks and rubble. Kapura picked tediously, while Keahi and a few others dug through other points of the collapsed building.

“Time to move on,” said the Matoran heading the scavenging party. Picking themselves up off the rubble, they climbed to the ground to regroup. A salvage cart stood nearby, a small pile of things they had found resting within it. The remnants of his previous Ta-Metru forge had completely collapsed in on itself. Brander thought they would have come up with more, but the damage to the old forge was considerable.

“This is not bad,” said Keahi to Brander as they walked. The director of the scavengers lead back to their work center, hoping to get back before the changing of the shift.

“I would still like more,” Brander replied. “It is going to be hard to know what I still need to set up anew.”

“Toa Lhikan will defeat the Morbuzahk soon,” assured Keahi. “and you will be back in a forge before you know it, and it will be like this never happened.”

“Let’s hustle!” said the head Matoran. The two broke off their conversation there and marched forward with him, back to the heart of Ta-Metru.

However the sounds of scavenging still rang from the pile. Junk slipped and fell, bricks shifted. The director looked around in annoyance. “I thought I said let’s—“ he began to bark. His voice died in his throat though. His eyes lit up in horror at what he saw.

The rest of the Matoran turned to see what was paralyzing the head scavenger, only to wish they hadn’t. The pile of rubble was shifting, giving way as something from below pushed through. The pile fell wayside as something slithered out of it. Small bits of metal and brick caught onto it and dropped to the ground as one, two, up to half a dozen dark green and brown tentacles emerged from the ground.

“Morbuzahk!” called Keahi. “Run!”

Even though they had no audio receptors, the vines seemed to snap at the sound of their name. They shot in the direction of the Matoran, reaching for the little legs of the foragers as they tried to run away.

Blasts of energy cut the vines short. Vahki Nuurahk swept down from the skies, launching a steady stream of energy bolts from their staffs and Kanoka blasts. The vines recoiled upon being struck with the energy, and writhed as multiple Kanoka powers rippled through its form. The squad of Vahki enforcers had been waiting on the outskirts of the ruins to overwatch the Matoran as they worked, and waited silently for something to happen. Now this was their chance to hop into action.

The vines writhed in the air before slamming themselves down on the pavement. The mini bioquakes the tremors produced shook the group of Matoran, throwing them on their backs. Picking themselves up, they continued to run.

The ground began to crack around them. The Ta-Matoran yelled in horror as they saw more vines burst out of the ground. Readying their Kanoka launchers, Brander and the others fired discs of their own. However, they misfired, and the vines, sensing their prey, dodged the discs and made a straight shot for the scavengers.

Brander found himself pinned, the vine having wrapped itself around him like a Doom Viper. Like his brothers around him, he struggled and squirmed as the Morbuzahk dragged them away from the Vahki. The enforcers had noticed the second group of vines, but were too busy fighting the group by the ruins of Brander’s forge to be any help. Brander look around, straining his muscles as he fought to free himself…

The vine went limp, and suddenly he was running again. Another Nuurahk had sliced down on the vine, severing it from its other limbs. More Vahki had done the same for the other Ta-Matoran, and were now peppering either party of vines relentlessly with bouts of energy. Brander, Keahi, Kapura and the rest watched the battle with a mix of fear and awe.

It took some time, but soon the vines were either severed or retreating. The area grew still with the threat defeated. Brander and the others breathed a sigh of relief for a moment, grateful for the breath in their lungs. That moment was quickly gone however, as the Vahki all swarmed upon the Ta-Matoran, taking scans and chirping amongst themselves.

Brander looked down as the light of the Nuurahk scanned his body. His arm was damaged, he saw. The Morbuzahk had squeezed him so tightly that it had collapsed the armor. More than that, the muscle was exposed and swollen, and there was something on there that he could not identify. Not dirt, but some green-blue spore seemed to be spotting all over the exposed muscle. Worry began to flood him as he began to look for other damages in his armor. First his forge gone, now his arm busted! How could Mata Nui send him through such punishment?

Apparently he was the only one whom had received such damage. The Nuurahk led the others back their homes in Ta-Metru, while one picked him up and began to fly him elsewhere.

***

The scope of the Ga-Matoran’s Akaku looked over the muscle in his arm. Brander waited impatiently as she carved various notes on the tablet she carried, sharing none of them with the Ta-Matoran. The dented armor and injured forearm was something Brander could easily repair himself; the spores on his arm however were something that needed to be answered, and the sooner the better.

“What are they?” he finally said.

“The Morbuzahk has touched you, hasn’t it,” said the doctor. Brander nodded.

“I have seen several cases of this,” said the doctor. “These vines that are creeping through the city… every Matoran they have touched have come to me with these spores. We are still studying what it is and what the effects are, but the vines have left these spores on every Matoran they have come in contact with.”

“What do the spores do?” asked Brander, nervousness running through his system.

“Nothing fatal,” said the doctor, giving a smile. “Rest assured that this will not kill you. However, it will plague you a bit. Some have reported a burning. Some have reported the need to scratch our muscular tissues… I believe the term for it is ‘itching’.”

“Neither of those sound good,” Brander said. “I need to get rid of this, sister. Doctor. Please.”

“Cold seems to be an effective way to combat this,” said the Ga-Matoran. “What I want you to do is go to a private bath here in Ga-Metru. The Vahki Bordahk have set up a station in the northeast sector for just this purpose. Show them the insignia I will give you and they will see to it that you have a cleansing bath. Other than that, try not to itch and take it easy on the arm. If you work the arm too much it will inflame these spores.”

Brander looked at her. Not use his arms, his hands? He needed to get a forge back up and running. He needed to get back to his duty. How could he not do his job?

***

Brander fumbled as he strapped on his tool belt with a struggle. Even though he could still use the isolator cast equipment— which he and many of the Ta-Matoran were calling an “ice” cast— it was about as maneuverable as a Po-Matoran carving field.

Brander was so occupied with the securing of his tool belt that he did not notice the Vahki standing outside of his door until he bumped right into it. “Oh! G-Good morning, Vahki Nuurahk!” he cried. “I swore I was running on time, I am heading to work, it’s just this belt won’t go on—“

“Matoran unit designation ‘Brander’,” said the Vahki. This enforcer, a delegation model, had specifically been given speech protocols. Two backup Vahki stood behind it. Brander swallowed as he acknowledged his designation. “Your recent travel logs have shown your visits to Ga-Matoran doctors. There you have been diagnosed with recent Morbuzahk infection.”

The Vahki said nothing more, simply handing him a tablet.

Citizen Brander,

You have been recently diagnosed with a new infection. This infection’s origins, the Morbuzahk, are a largely unstudied case. The recent spread of spore infections from Morbuzahk plant life have cause alarm in your district.

Due to the spread of this Morbuzahk spore infection, we are requiring all documented infected cases to quarantine for a minimum of two weeks. This is to isolate the infection and prevent further spread of sickness within your district. We apologize for the inconvenience, but it is for the safety of the Metru.

Thank you for your compliance

Yours in Duty,

Turaga Dume and health board of Metru Nui.

Quarantine.

The word jumped from the letter out at the Ta-Matoran. His plans for the day, his work…

“I am in discussions about acquiring a new forge!” he protested to the Vahki. “I can’t miss an appointment I have today! I am not feeling sick, I am fine! I promise!”

The Vahki he addressed shook its head, while the backups glowered menacingly. One of the backup’s Staff of Command crackled to life.

“You have made your point,” Brander agreed. “I can stay home for a few days.”

***

The day went. Brander watched it from the behind the window looking out from his home. He had sent a messenger to alert any future appointments of his condition, and now he was sitting in his home ridden with anxiety. The city of Ta-Metru, and the larger Metru Nui, was a rapid pace environment. If you missed a day of work, you missed a lot of what was going on. Because he could not make the appointment to secure a new forge, the land could be instead developed into a factory outpost, a warehouse… a number of things. He would have to accept his losses, but it would take some time to process.

Brander looked around at his home. He could do some work here— draft designs for tools and send messages— but that was about it. Most of what he needed was at his forge…that he did not have anymore.

He frowned as he looked around his hut. This was going to be a long two weeks.

***

Thrill coursed through Brander’s mind as he walked the streets of Ta-Metru for the first time in a fortnight. He walked through the sights of the factories, the smell of smoke and metal, feeling the heat of the district around him… he must have looked like a tourist, but he did not care. He was just glad to be outside of the four walls of his home. He had spent days in there, awaiting the day he could get back to furthering his work. He was ready to get out there and back into the business of the Metru.

And yet… Ta-Metru did not seem that busy. There were carts and airships on their way to places, yes, and the sound of clanging metal came from some of nearby forges… but silence hung heavy in the long moments between those sounds. It seemed as if the district were emptier. This was how he imagined another district might feel— maybe Po-Metru or one of the industrial sections of Ga-Metru— but not the heart of the Ta-Metru forge district.

“Long time no see, hammer head,” came a voice. Brander whirled to see Keahi strolling down the street. Brander smiled, offering his fist to clank with Keahi. The Ta-Matoran grimaced, simply nodding.

“No offense, but I don’t think that is a good idea,” Keahi told him. Brander frowned, confused. “You have clearly missed a lot during your quarantine.”

“I am headed to a follow up appointment at a Ga-Metru doctor,” said Brander. “Fill me in on the way to the chute station?”

Brander reeled as he thought about what Keahi had told him. The Morbuzahk was gone, but this virus it had spread was turning into something far worse. From the sound of it more Matoran were going into quarantine by the day. Brander had sent out messages in his isolation, but there were many Matoran whose houses were dark and had not been heard from. To add to that, Toa Lhikan had gone missing, there were rumors of Dark Hunters being spotted in the city…

“If you want some good news though,” Keahi said, trying to make light of the scenario. “Vakama hasn’t been heard or seen lately— last anyone heard of him he was on urgent business weeks ago to Ga-Metru. His forge has been vacant. I am sure that the Vahki wouldn’t mind if you started working from there.”

Brander’s eyebrows raised. He liked the sound of that. Vakama had a state-of-the-art mask making forge. While Brander was not as learned in all of the tools the premier mask maker might have, he was sure he could make his way around.

***

“It hasn’t spread,” said Brander as doctor inspected his arm. “The itching stopped.”

The doctor nodded. “But it hasn’t gone away.”

“It hasn’t spread either though,” Brander reminded the Ga-Matoran. She said nothing for a moment, then peeked again at the flesh under his armor.

“I am approving you for work release,” the doctor said. “You can go back to forging, but I would like you to apply ice to it every morning before work, and every evening after you arrive home.”

Brander thanked the doctor for her time, already thinking of Vakama’s forge calling his name.

***

A few weeks later

The mask of Turaga Dume appeared on displays all over the city. Matoran paused in their work, Brander included, to pay attention to what their leader had to say.

“Matoran of Metru Nui. You are required to gather at the Coliseum,” Dume’s voice boomed through every telescreen. His voice echoed throughout every Metru. He smiled for a moment before the broadcast ended and the screen went blank.

Brander stood with his hammer in hand in what once was Vakama’s forge, having paused to listen to the city-wide message. The Turaga’s words echoed in his mind. This was an executive order, a message to all of the Matoran in Metru Nui. But was it safe to gather together, the Ta-Matoran wondered, even with this virus spreading so easily amongst them?

The knock of the Vahki on the door answered that question. Setting his hammer down, Brander turned low the flame on the forge and went to meet the Turaga’s summons.

Masses of Ta-Matoran filled the streets as they seemingly obediently made their way towards the Coliseum. Brander followed the crowd filing towards the city’s center, keeping his doubts of the safety of this to himself.

Vahki stood posted along the walkways near the entrance of the Coliseum, their audio receptors eavesdropping on the Matoran whom made their way through. Some chatted innocently to each other, catching up with their seldom seen friends, while others murmured about their concerns.

“Something’s going on,” one Matoran insisted. Others nodded in agreement. Why else would the Turaga ask them to gather so hastily? they supposed.

“What could it be though?” asked another worker. Had the Dark Hunters been caught? Or was it something else happening in the city that had caused the summons?

One of the robotic guardians chirped, its staff crackling menacingly with energy. Any further speculation would have to wait, the Matoran knew, until they were seated in the stands and safe from the Vahki.

Although there were still large groups of Matoran filing in, Brander could not help but think that the stadium seating of the Coliseum felt empty. Many Matoran were reported to have been taken by the Morbuzahk, its vines having grabbed citizens in the streets and dragged them off to the unknown places.

Brander had thought that the rumors had been exaggerated… but looking at the gaps in the upper levels of the stadium seating, he was beginning to wonder if word spread were actually true.

Brander’s attention was diverted to the floor of the arena, where swarms of vehicles crawled into view. Vahki were seen in the pilot seats, with a few Matoran accomplices guiding them on the arena floor. These vehicles had been seen throughout the city in recent weeks, but no details had come out about what they really were. The Ta-Matoran supposed that this was the big reveal.

“Faithful citizens,” rang the voice of Dume from atop his position on the Coliseum tower. He had clearly not brought the Matoran together for an akinili match. “Our city has been plagued with misfortune for a number of months now. We have experienced the disappearance of our beloved Toa Lhikan and the rest of the Toa Mangai. We have been plagued by the the Morbuzahk and its disease spread amongst you, our citizens. We have been harassed by the six imposters calling themselves Toa, but battling our Vahki in disastrous battles that have damaged our streets.”

The events have caused tensions in each of your neighborhood. They have caused battle and destruction in your streets. They have brought fear into your recent history.”

Agreement in the form of murmurs waved through the crowd of the gathered Metruans.

“However, we gather to rejoice!” exclaimed the Turaga of Fire from his position on the Coliseum tower. “For today will be a momentous climax to your history.”

The numerous vehicles had filled the hexagonal tiled floor of the Coliseum. Vahki pilots and Matoran assistants were now bringing out silver pods from the vehicles, placing them on the ground. Many of the crowd patrons recognized them— just like the vehicles, these odd spheres had been sighted around the city without any explanation as to what they were or what they did.

“The Vahki enforcers have worked strong and hard to protect you,” Dume continued. “The scientists of our esteemed staff, your neighbors and friends, have been working tirelessly in labs and foundries helping combat this virus the Morbuzahk has brought upon our city. Today I gather you all to announce that a cure has been found!”

Applause rippled through the stadium, Brander himself clapping in celebration. Around him, others were on their feet, shouting with joy. Had it really happened? He wanted to hear more of what the Turaga had to say.

Once the hollering and celebrating calmed down, Dume resumed his speech, going into details about the cure. The entire population of Metru Nui would receive it today, and in two week’s time, this virus plaguing the city would be just a memory.

The telescreens cut away from Turaga Dume, refocusing on a group of Matoran at  the floor of the Coliseum. One of the spheres was in the frame with them, a door opened on it. Several diagrams cut in to the presentation as the Matoran explained how the spheres work and what they would do. A Vahki would open one and the door would slide down. The citizens would climb into the pods and close the door, they explained, and the Matoran would go into a brief stasis for a few days. The mechanics in the pod would emit a wavelength ray that would course through the Matoran occupants, which would nullify the virus if it were within their system. After that, the Matoran would be in stasis for a few days while their body absorbed the medicine that was being called the cure.

As the presentation concluded, Dume thanked the Matoran orators, as well as some of the scientists whom had developed the cure. While he did so, the thunderous cheer that had gone through the crowd earlier subsided into murmurs as some of the skeptics—mostly claustrophobic Le-Matoran— questioning this. If they were all in stasis, Metru Nui would grind to a halt for a time. Who would work the city in their absence? What would happen to the Great Spirit Mata Nui if they were all under and away from their stations?

“Test subjects have undergone this procedure, and they will be waking up within the day to resume their work,” Dume reassured those questioning. “With the assistance of the Vahki the city will be maintained while you are undergoing treatment.”

Most of the skeptics had been swayed at this point, and it was time to get the Matoran into the stadium center. Vahki appeared amongst the crowd of Matoran, beginning to usher the citizens in an orderly towards the pods.

“It is important that you cooperate with the Vahki enforcers,” Dume’s voice rolled over the crowd.

Brander found himself going along with the crowd, watching the endless stream of fellow Matoran ahead as they made their way into the arena. Many people within earshot could be heard chattering away at how excited they were for this, at how much of a relief it was. Brander said nothing aloud, merely thinking to himself as he went along in line.

A cure had been found! He should be ecstatic.

Then why didn’t he? Having already experienced the virus, he thought his body might be partially immune now. What would this cure do if he had already been through the virus? Would it work and make him stronger because of what he had been through, or would it take away all that his body had experienced? He comprehended everything that the Matoran presenters had explained but at the end of the day he was a crafter. He did not understand this.

It still didn’t stop him from worrying.  

After an eternity of thinking about it, Brander found himself at the front of the crowd. The silver spheres were ahead. Beyond them, the stadium seats almost glowed white in their emptiness, and the tower of the Coliseum reached higher above than he could fathom. Brander observed the Matoran assistants helping their brothers and sisters into the pods and then closing the door. One watching could see the pod shut, and through the little window on the door the occupant’s eyes go dark as they went into stasis-like sleep. Two Vahki came to load the pod onto one of their vehicles, while another two came to set a pod down for the next Matoran.

He wondered what would happen if he could refuse going in the pods, but Vahki monitoring on the far edge of the crowd made him feel as if he was better off not asking.

Maybe after a few days his worries would wash away, and he could return to crafting without the concerns of the virus taking up his mind. After all, it was only a few days of this stasis.

He climbed into the pod, taking the assistance of the Matoran helper. It was small in the pod. The sphere was barely big enough for him to stand in without his mask touching the ceiling. Brander had enough room to wiggle around, but he could not spread himself like he could on his sleeping pallet at home.  

The Matoran assistant nodded to him as they grabbed the latch and hoisted the door up. Brander breathed in deeply and took one look at the crowd of Matoran still waiting in line before he closed his eyes. Sleep overcame him.

As he relaxed, he began to drift off into what would be not a few days stasis but an endless slumber. His worries, and the rest of his memories, were from then on no more.

____________________

It never really made sense why the Matoran so willingly got into the capsule balls in Legends of Metru Nui. Plus there was never really any fallout with the Morbuzahk and the Matoran population-- it was just a bad guy for the Toa Metru to defeat. Plants in the real world such as poison ivy infect humans who touch it, so why can't the Morbuzahk give something to the Matoran? I took two problems and figured what I thought was a solution.

I could have written more about the life of a quarantined Matoran, but honestly I didn't want or care to. I was more concerned with overlapping the main beat, so sorry if this seems a little bare bones.

Last note: Not trying to make any vaccination agendas or anti vax or any political statement of any kind. I just wanted to write a piece that creatively blended real life with fantasy.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch 7: 8 Letters, 3 Words, 1 Meaning

Summary: Katie and Steve’s relationship is blossoming, but they’ve still not come out to the rest of the team. Well, not yet anyway...

Pairing: Steve Rogers x O/C

Warnings: Bad language, Smut, Spiders (yeah, ok I need a warning for those 8 legged freaks) NSFW no under 18s.

June 2013

Katie was trying to listen, she really was, but the warmth of the June sun was lulling her to sleep, despite the fact she had only gotten up 2 hours or so ago. She was trying to focus on the intelligence that had come out of the Department of Damage Control, a joint venture set up between Stark Industries and the Ministry of Defence to clean up post Chitauri invasions, that a Warehouse in Columbia was housing a load of the alien based weapons for sale on the black market.

Maybe if she just closed her eyes….

She found herself daydreaming. About her favourite thing to day dream about. Steve. It was now 5 weeks since they had started dating and 2 weeks since they had been caught by Tony. Since then they’d spent pretty much every other evening wrapped around one another post a heavy make out session. Sometimes it would just be a bit of heavy kissing, sometimes there would be a little more. Like when he had lain over her on the bed, kissing her neck, lips, chest, feeling her arousal on his fingers for the first time as he’d coaxed her to completion that way, almost blowing his load himself at the feeling of her clenching around his fingers, and then she’d returned the favour, wrapping her palm around him, bringing him off. And then yesterday had been her birthday, which had brought her one hell of a present.

She’d been on at him for as long as she could remember for a ride on his motorbike so, amongst other presents, Steve had Clint help him research the best helmet he could get and he’d bought her one, much to her excitement. She’d squealed and then squealed some more when he had revealed they were off out for the afternoon. He’d packed an evening picnic and taken her up to Rock Creek Park where they’d eaten subs, muffins and were now laid back on the blanket, her head resting on his chest.

“Your hair smells different…nice different…” he said, nuzzling his nose into it.

“Oh, it’s a different shampoo…” she grinned “It was in the hamper of ridiculously expensive toiletries and make-up that Tony sent me. Or should I say Pepper, as he will have had no idea about any of that stuff…”

“Smells of cookies…”

“It has oatmeal in so you’re not far off.” she smiled, looking up at the sky.

The pair of them stayed still, his hand straying into her hair before he broke the calm silence.

“You know, when I was a kid…me and Bucky used to play a game, spotting shapes in the clouds” he said

“Tony used to do that with me.” she smiled, shifting her head so that the back of it still lay across his chest but she could see upwards “See, there’s a dog…”

“Looks more like a cow to me…” he cocked his head to one side.

“A cow?” she snorted, “Where have you ever seen a cow look like that?”

The two of them stayed like that for another hour or so, playing shapes and making conversations before the sun began to stray behind the trees. Reluctantly Katie agreed it was probably time to go home.

“I’ve had…” she undid the strap on her baby blue and silver helmet, pulling it off with a flourish as she stepped off the bike outside her apartment “…the most amazing birthday, thank you…”

She reached up and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it doll…” he said gently as she reached into her back pocket for her key card. Smiling he dropped his hand to her waist as they walked to the elevator. When the doors opened, Katie tugged on his hand gently and led him in after her. Once in her apartment, he allowed just enough time for them to remove their jackets and for Katie to hang her new helmet in pride of place on the hooks before his lips crashed onto hers, the kisses growing deeper, and he hooked his hands round the back of her thighs and easily picked her up. She giggled, wrapping her legs round his waist, her nose brushing against his as he carried her up the stairs, dropping her gently on the bed. She spread her legs making room for him so he could settle his hips in between the space they made as she wrapped her arms round his neck, his hands gently running up the side of her ribs, pulling off the t-shirt she was wearing, cupping her face in his hands. He let out a soft moan as her hands started to slide down his chest and it was clear she had intentions of using her hands, if not her mouth as well, on him again but that wouldn't do, not on her birthday.

“Uh-uh not tonight baby girl…” he said, gently grabbing her wrists.

She frowned and looked genuinely pissed off that he was stopping her. As she pouted at him, he simply smiled "It's your birthday, after all...." He whispered into her mouth before setting her hands down on the pillow on either side of her head before turning his attention to her chest, sucking and biting through her bra, listening to the sounds she made right by his ear. He continued his affections downwards, pressing small kisses all the way down her body until his nose was skimming along the waistband of her jeans. She let out a groan of delight as he brought his hands up to undo them and started guiding them down. 

The idea of tasting her like this had been on his mind since she had first done it to him but he was utterly lost, with no idea on what to do next. He glanced up at her, swallowing slightly and instantly understanding that he needed encouragement, Katie reached down to tangle her fingers in his hair, raising her hips to help him remove the jeans and her underwear. She knew he had never done this before, but now, as she gently bent her knees to allow him access she heard him let out a soft moan of his own and watched him as he snuck one glance up at her and then set his mouth on her.

It took a while, her guiding him gently, telling him what she liked, what was working and what wasn’t but she didn’t really have to give him too much direction. What he lacked in skill he made up for with dogged determination and eventually, her breathy directions died in her throat and then she was moaning and writhing in pleasure as his mouth worked her over, one hand in his hair and the other gripping the sheets. Her sweet, salty tang on his tongue set every nerve in his body on edge and the more he tasted the more he wanted.

Katie could hear and feel him groaning with each lick and suck he gave her. He was aroused, really aroused and surprised to find the warm feeling across his stomach was getting harder to ignore the more he worked her. When he focused his attention back on her little bundle of nerves, licking at it before closing his lips around it and sucking it into his mouth she was done. Her body convulsed, her back arched and she let out a strangled cry, his name on her lips and it made him slightly smug to hear. Steve held her down gently, one strong arm over her small waist and as her hand gripped his hair harder and she groaned brokenly once more, he felt himself go, tipping over the edge and he shuddered gently as his own release washed over him. Katie pushed her hand into his hair, having become too sensitive, gently moving his mouth away from her. Taking the hint, he obliged, kissing his way back up her body, pressing his mouth onto hers.

“Good?” he asked breathlessly, staring at her, seeking confirmation despite the fact she lay completely and utterly undone beneath him.

“God, yes…” her voice was gruff, as she kissed him, the fact that he could still clearly taste her on his tongue meant that she would be able to too, and the fact that she didn’t care made him shudder, though that also might have something to do with the mess he'd once again made in his pants like a horny schoolboy.

As they kissed she began to trail her hand back down his chest reaching for his buckle but he stopped her again, pulling away.

"I err...." he trailed off, dropping his head slightly embarrassed. But he needn’t have been. The fact that he’d gotten off on giving Katie what was, frankly, the best orgasm she could remember having made her grin and she cocked her head to one side as she eyed him, tipping his head up to look at her.

“Best birthday present ever…” she smirked, drawing a laugh from him before he kissed her again.

“Agent Stark!” Fury barked, jerking her awake. Damned, had she actually fallen asleep in briefing? Steve was perched on the edge of Fury’s desk, and Katie could tell he was fighting to keep a smirk off his face.

“Sorry Sir, didn’t get much sleep last night.” she said, avoiding looking at Steve as her mouth tugged upwards at the corners.

Besides her she heard Clint give a snigger which he hastily turned into a cough. Of course he knew about the pair of them. Him, Natasha and Evans being the only people on the team that did although Katie and Steve had both admitted they didn’t really know how much longer they could keep it clandestine.

“So as I was saying….” Fury shot Katie another look as Natasha played along, patting Clint harshly on the back. “Salaad Ali…” Fury pointed at the picture of the main man responsible for the arms ring we had been tracking over the middle East . “Do we know much about him?”

“He’s a sick bastard” Clint said, suddenly all business. “Came across him on an op in 2009. Apparently when he was active as part of the regime under Sadam Hussein he was tasked with taking out a Kurdish fighter cell that was stockpiling munitions. He was undercover for a month. Then one night he kidnaps a guard, peels off the skin from his right hand, completely, and wore it like a glove to gain access to their stores using the biometric scanners.”

“That’s about power.” Katie said, taking a breath, “Mocking and goading the people who he’s stealing off. Look at me, not only did I infiltrate your organisation, I maimed your security guard in the process.”

Fury invited her to take the floor and she stood up and spoke confidently. “From what I’ve read he’s obviously an organised offender.” Steve had to smile, before she had trained as a sniper after Clint had discovered she had a natural eye for a shot, she had joined STRIKE as a Mission Analyst-slash- Target Profiler. And she was good at it. “He’s sophisticated in his approach, and is a meticulous planner.”

“You have to be to pull off the sort of crimes he has, these are big jobs.” Clint said. Katie nodded.

“I also believe from the other things he has allegedly done, the murders, rapes…he’s a control freak, a sadist, type of person who will always want the last word in the argument so to speak. Therefore, if he knows someone is on to him, he won’t come quietly.” she looked at Steve, then Fury then round the room at the assembled team “We should be prepared for a fight. And they’ll be fighting to kill, not wound.”

“Can’t the air force just blow the place up?” Rumlow asked.

“If it was that simple we would have already sent in an air strike.” Fury said, pushing a button to show a map “There’s a civilian village less than a 500 yards away. That place goes up so do they.”

“Not to mention those weapons are really volatile Brock.” Katie looked at him. “If they have as many as we suspect, then if they go up, it’s gonna leave one hell of a hole.”

“Nova is right, you need to get in, take the base and clear out the weapons.” Fury said “And bring Ali in, I have some questions for him before we turn him over to the Authorities.”

*****

They decided to operate under the cover of darkness, to give them the element of surprise. Once they had some form of plan- a heat scan as they hovered over the building told them how many people were in the building and once they had established that they moved in. They operated as a a well-organised unit, quickly and meticulously flushing out the hostiles.

It was all going too smoothly, especially as Ali was still in the building. Capturing him was surprisingly easy, even if it was Natasha that found him. In hindsight, that should have been a warning sign they probably should have spotted. As Rumlow and Natasha were leading him away, the team already having dispatched the rest of the hostiles, Steve, Clint and Katie headed deeper into the warehouse to locate the weapons themselves when, just as they found a hidden room off the main service corridor, there was a loud clicking noise and Clint stopped dead.

“Shit…” he said and Katie wheeled round and he held his hand up to her. “Don’t move.”

“What…” Katie followed his gaze and swallowed when she saw his foot resting over a small metal pad on the creaking floor boards of the 1st floor room they were in.

“Yeah…we have a problem.” Clint sighed, looking at her then to the Captain “Should have seen that one coming.”

He’s the type of guy that will want the last laugh, so if he knows someone is on to him, he aint coming quietly

Steve scanned the floor and spotted another trigger a few feet away from Katie. Pulling her to the left away from it he looked around the room.

“What’s going on?” Rumlow asked over the comms.

“The son of a bitch has the place rigged.” Clint said, wiping his brow “ I’ve triggered some kind of sensor pad.”

“If he’s laying traps in here then the weapons have to be nearby…” Steve said, as Katie dropped to her hands and knees, torch shining through the dirty, well-worn floorboards.

“The device has to be under here…” she said, and she began to follow the wire across the floor, keeping her eyes peeled for more booby-traps, as Steve carefully made his way into a small room off to their right avoiding another trigger as he went. His eyes scanned the various crates of the familiar shining metal weapons and he sighed.

“Found the jackpot…”

“So have I.” Katie said, stopping crawling as the wire ended. She could just about make out the metal box, a red light flashing ominously through the gaps.

“Ok, we’re coming to you..” Rumlow spoke again

“No!” Steve said, hastily turning and walking back into the main room “We don’t know how many of these he has laid around the place. Wait for my instructions.”

He glanced over at Clint who was stood, motionless, his eyes focussed on his foot.

“Barton, you ok?”

“Peachy cap…” he said, looking up “Guess my Hawk eyes let me down”

“Happens to the best of us.” Steve looked at him as Katie stood up, pointing to her foot. “It’s under there…”

"How big is it?" Steve asked.

"It doesn’t matter how big”. she said gently “It explodes then those weapons go up…”

She trailed off. Clint dies no matter what and as they wouldn’t ever leave a man behind, so did they.

"We need to start evacuating civilians." Steve said, “Rumlow…”

“We can start clearing the village but…”

“Do what you can.” Steve said, “Romanoff, have a chat with our prisoner, see if you can get him to talk, tell us how we turn this thing off”

“Yeah, not gonna happen…” She said back, not a trace of her usual biting sarcasm in her voice. “He’s out cold. Suddenly decided he didn’t fancy being captured after all and got a bit rough on the way up. I had to take him out.”

“Shit.” Katie muttered as Steve let out a long sigh, turning to face her as she stood, thinking something over. It wasn’t a great idea, but was the only chance they really had. So she decided to roll with it.

“Can you help me get the floor boards up?” she said, looking at Steve.

“Well, yeah.” he said, “But won’t that disturb the bomb?”

“Not if you do it here.” she said, moving about 6 foot to her left. “I can get underneath, see if I can disable it.”

Steve looked at her, then to Clint before sighing. It didn’t look like they had a choice.

“Alright…”

A minute later, Vibranium and steel knives had worked their magic as Katie and Steve had prised a space big enough for Katie to lower herself into, head first, torch in her mouth, phone held in front of her, on her stomach. She crawled over to the bomb and looked at it.

“It’s on a fucking timer too!” she sighed, swallowing as the timer had less than 5 minutes on it.

“How long?” Steve asked.

“Long enough…” she said, deciding not to tell them. She snapped a photo before dropping the torch to the boards beneath her so that it illuminated the dark space in front of her.

“Someone patch me through to Lawson …now.” she spoke

Less than 40 seconds later Lawson’s British accent hit her ear.

“Nova.” he said.

“We have a situation…” she spoke calmly, although she was anything but. She didn’t like tight spaces at the best of times and there was a huge spider sitting to her right. And she fucking hated spiders. And she was facing a bomb, now with 3 minutes left on the clock. Swallowing her fear she sent the photo to Lawson’s computer, her hands shaking “Hawkeye triggered this, can we disarm it?”

A moment’s pause.

“Yeah, we can. I can talk you through this…”

Steve swallowed and looked at Clint, the man seemed surprisingly calm considering, but then he was used to staying still for long periods of time on stakeouts. He gave Steve a slight shrug and the Captain looked back to the hole Katie had shimmied into.

“Ok…” Lawson spoke “You’re gonna need a knife or something sharp to cut the wires”

“Got it…” Katie wriggle to free the standard issue Swiss Army Knife which contained every single gadget known to man from her thigh pocket.

“Ok so first thing is first, you’re going to need to lift it out slightly to get to the wires ok. There should be 3…blue, white and red….but this is important Stark so listen.”

“Listening”

“The blue wire has to remain intact and in contact with the sensor under Hawkeye’s foot. So don’t cut it or pull it ok?”

“Don’t pull or cut blue. Got it….”

“Alright, so you need to gently lift it out towards you, watching that blue wire, and turn it to the side so you can see the red and white wires…”

Taking a deep breath, with trembling hands she gently reached out and slowly, carefully turned the bomb to the side, letting out a small squeak of fear as the huge black spider moved closer.

“You ok?” Steve asked, hearing her noise.

“There’s a spider in here the size of a fucking Chihuahua.” she said, her voice slightly higher than normal. Steve sighed, any other time her fear of spiders would amuse him. Not now.

“It’s gonna be more scared of you than you are of it…” Steve said, but as he spoke he knew that was utter bullshit.

“Yeah, anyway, Lawson…I’ve got it…what now?”

“Cut the white wire first and then the red.”

Katie took a deep breath, her hands really where shaking now, and she took a deep breath trying to focus, ignoring the timer which was now counting down from 1 minute 30. She reached out with her left to hold the white still and her right clutched the knife as she went to work. The wire was tough but in 3 cuts it was severed. She moved to do the same to the red, but on the 3rd cut the knife slipped and slashed into the palm of her left.

She let out a yell of pain. “Shit”

“Katie?” Steve dropped to his knees, trying to see into the space but all he could see was her back.

“My hand slipped…I’m ok.” she said. Taking another breath she took another 3 slashes at the wire and eventually it gave. The light on the bomb went out and the timer stopped on 25 seconds.

“Boom…” she said.

“Nice work Nova…” Lawson let out a breath.

Katie swallowed, “Thanks Lawson��errr boys, a little help…”

Steve moved first as she shuffled backwards and managed to get one strong arm round her waist and gently she folded herself up so that he could lift her out.

“You alright?” he asked and she nodded, breathing heavily, but he could see from the tears in her eyes she wasn’t. Before he could say anything, Clint had pulled her into a hug as Steve instructed the team to move in for extraction of the weapons.

“Thanks Nova…” Clint said as she stepped back.

Steve gently moved towards her and turned her to face him, “It’s ok doll, you did it…”

“Guess I did.” Katie said, still breathing deep as the magnitude of what just happened overwhelmed her. She began to shake and Steve simply wrapped her in his large arms and she pressed her face into his Kevlar clad chest and he rest his chin on her head, looking at Clint.

“I got her…” he mouthed, and Clint nodded, heading into the corridor to find the team.

He pulled back and gently took her hand, looking at the place her knife had gashed through the leather on her palm gloves. It looked fairly superficial, the leather having protected her in the main “That doesn’t look too deep but we’ll get the medic to look at it.”

Katie couldn’t feel it. She was numb, numb from how close that bomb had been from going up.

“25 seconds…” she said, swallowing “25 seconds…that’s it, we were less than half a minute from going up.”

“Hey…” Steve moved back slightly so he could look at his girl. “That doesn’t matter now, you stopped it. Everyone’s ok.”

The blood was pounding in her ears as she looked up at his helmet clad face, his eyes warm as they locked onto hers. She was starting to lose it, and if she didn’t find a way to ground herself she knew she was going to break down into sobs, and she didn’t want that. Not on a mission. Steve watched as she reached up to undo the clasp at the side of his chin strap and before he could say anything, although he really didn’t have anything to say, she’d pulled his helmet off. She looked at him, hair tousled, bottom half of his face slightly grubby compared to the top.

“Baby…” he said quietly but his words died as she ran her non-injured hand up the side of his jaw and then leaned up, catching his lips, hand on the back of his neck. Steve was surprised, but didn’t push her away, he never could. His arms instinctively pulled her closer as he kissed her back, everything else zoning out, until they heard footsteps and a voice which was slightly amused.

“Ok, nothing to see here…” Clint was saying. Steve looked over Katie’s head at the assembled team of STRIKE agents. Rumlow, Rollins, Evans and Nat stood at the front. Rumlow’s face was a picture and Steve, despite the fact he was kind of embarrassed about being caught snogging his girl in the middle of a job, felt a smug sense of satisfaction.

My girl, ass hole.

“Told you Rumlow…” Rollins was next to speak as Katie closed her eyes and pressed her forehead into Steve’s chest, the moment of adrenaline fuelled passion ebbed away and was replaced by a sudden worry of her effectively outing them without asking him first.

“Fuck me sideways.” Rumlow muttered “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Rumlow, you’re an idiot.” Lawson’s voice hit their ears “I aint even there and even I could see that a mile off. Man, Fury only has one eye and I bet he could see it all the way from DC.”

Steve let out an exasperated sigh, but his arms didn’t let go of his precious charge as he issued an instruction. “Alright, wrap it up. Let’s get those weapons and move it out.”

His grip on Katie released as the team bustled into the room and he stopped to pick up both their helmets, handing Katie hers with a small smile.

“Sorry…” she stuttered “I just…”

“Sweetheart, its ok.” he said gently, brushing her face with his gloved palm

“You’re not mad?” she asked, looking up at him, green eyes wide.

“No.” he said as she took her helmet off him with an air of surprise. “I mean they had to find out eventually. Not exactly how I would have chosen to do it but…”

Katie snorted “Better or worse than being caught in the kitchen?”

He gave a small laugh “Undecided, come on, let’s help them pack up those weapons and we can go home.”

******

The two of them were careful to keep a distance for the rest of the mission and trip home, a professional front was imperative to Steve and Katie was also keen to keep it that way too. She didn’t want anyone saying that either of them were impartial or unable to keep themselves objective. That said, on the flight home they took the inevitable teasing that naturally was always going to come their way when the team found out that its Captain and Sniper were together on the chin. To be fair, it was all well natured and there were no smutty remarks beyond Evans asking Katie if she’d have to get her bed reinforced now she was sharing it with a super-soldier, which resulted in her hitting him square in the face with a granola bar, as Steve flushed at the back of the jet when he overheard. Steve’s sharp eyes however clocked that one person who wasn’t joining in the joking and teasing was Rumlow. He looked like he’d been slapped in the face, and all Steve could do was hope he wasn’t going to be a complete prick going forward.

At the debrief Fury was pleased they had gotten a result and surprised the entire team by handing Steve a wad of notes and instructing them to go celebrate a job well done, but the wink he gave the Captain as he left the room before looking at Katie in that way he did, with a smirk on his face left them both in no uncertainty that he knew what had gone down.

The team hit their favoured bar, Loris. Katie and Steve sat together, Steve casually resting his arm round the back of the bench they sat on, as the drinks flowed, food arrived and Clint and Rumlow organised a pool tournament. Pool was one thing, along with art, that Steve had been pretty good at before he got the serum so after a bit of coaxing he joined in, eventually winning after thrashing Lawson in the final. Declining the money, he told Clint to use it to get the team another round of drinks, but they were drinks he had no intention of partaking in. He wanted to take his girl home because he could tell she was still a little shaken from the days events.

He wasn’t wrong. Whilst she had sat and eaten and drinking, she wasn’t really listening. The sight of that bomb timer in front of her eyes, and that fucking spider… she gave an involuntary shudder and looked up to see the tournament was now over and Steve was making his way to the table she was sat at, Natasha nodding to him as she headed to the bar.

He dropped onto the seat next to her, leaned forward and whispered “Wanna get out of here?”

She looked around, glancing over at the bar where Rumlow and Rollins were chatting up a group of girls. Clint and Natasha were sat a few seats down, in discussion with Lawson about something whilst Evans was leaning on the bar talking to a few of the other STRIKE team. She nodded. Steve stood up, took her hand and pulled her off the bench, the pair of them making their exit quickly and quietly, jumping into a perfectly timed free cab.

They sat in silence, his thumb skating over the back of her knuckles on the short ride home, his hand releasing hers only when he had to pay the driver. He caught up with her inside the lobby, just as the elevator door was opening and he stepped in behind her, her breath catching as he dropped his head, nose nuzzling into the side of her neck below her ear before he placed a single, soft kiss on her neck. Her arousal was obvious as she bit her bottom lip and let her eyes fall closed as his lips grazed her neck a bit higher. Then higher still until they placed a chaste kiss on her jawline, and that was all she could take.

She turned round, eyes dark with lust and lips met his gently at first before the kiss grew more urgent and she brought her hands up to his face, sliding them back to tangle her fingers into his hair. The way she did that set every one of his nerves on edge and he found himself pressing closer and moved quickly so that he had her pinned against the metal wall of the elevator. His left hand gripped her hip tight, his right winding its way into her hair giving a gentle tug as he pressed his lips against hers, causing the kiss to deepen, a small whimper escaping her mouth. The doors opened to the elevator, and the two of them stumbled out, lips locked, her hands clawing at his hair still, the pair groaning as they went.

His lips started to stray, kissing the corners of her mouth, dipping down to her jaw and neck but she always pulled his face back to hers, kissing him encouragingly, and he knew there and then that there was only one way this was going to end. Which right now was absolutely fine with him, but he needed to know it was with her too. He pulled away and looked down at her, his eyes bouncing between hers.

“You sure?” He whispered, wetting his lips slightly.

“Stevie…” she replied, her voice barely audible over her deep breathing. “Shut up and take me to bed.”

And he knew then he was a gonner “Whatever you want baby girl…”

He surged forward again, spinning them both round, pinning her to the panel in the wall which hid the closed elevator doors with his body. His mouth trailed down to her neck, softly kissing, drawing a sigh from her at the sensation as he continued to skate his mouth gently across her collarbone which was exposed on one side due to the slouching top she was wearing. His hands reached down to her thighs and he effortlessly hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, nuzzling into his neck before kissing across his jawline and his cheek as he carried her across the apartment and up the stairs. He was aware vaguely of 2 small thuds as she shucked off her boots as they went, before he reached the bedroom his lips back on hers, urgently kissing her as he carried her inside, kicking the door shut before he crossed the room and gently fell forwards, depositing them both onto the bed.

His lips claimed hers again, a moan of his own escaping into her mouth and his hands strayed to the bottom of her top. She nodded eagerly, hands going to run through his hair, before she shifted and held her arms up so that he could pull the top over her head. He tossed it to the floor as she reached for his before he pulled back, allowing her to slide it up and over his head, both of them smiling into the kiss as he settled back down on top of her, his hand running up the side of her torso.

She pulled away from him this time and he watched as her eyes followed her hands downwards before she looked back up at him as her fingers gently grazed his stomach, lingering there before moving down to his jeans. He bucked at the touch as she slowly undid his belt, taking her time as she locked her eyes onto his again, lust had turned into softness as she looked at him. He stared right back at her, her eyes reminding him of emeralds, deep green, speckled with dots of brown, the slight ring of amber surrounding her pupil reminded him of the sun. Telling him of the power she exuded over him and the warmth she brought to his life. He was aware that his breathing had quickened and he let out a low growl before he kissed her, harder and his hands moved down to her jeans, deftly undoing the button at the front. He moved, pulling them down in one go over her legs before he stood slightly, ridding himself of his, the sensation of finally being free was a God send. Katie sat up, eyes trained on him and he swallowed thickly as she undid her bra. He took a second to take her in, he loved her tits, he’d always had a thing for a good “rack” as Bucky put it, and she was a sight to behold. All soft pink curves and rose bud nipples. He was achingly hard now, and he needed to do something about it. In a flash he was on her again, mouth hungrily covered hers as his hands trailed up her legs, to her hips, up the side of her body and then onto her breasts teasing gently. She groaned, rolling her head back on the pillow at the sensation, her hips bucking upwards.

"Fuck." he seethed out at the feeling of her grinding up against his rock hard crotch, and he nuzzled at her neck with his nose again. She dragged her fingers up his spine as he buried his face in the side of her neck working at the pulse spot beneath her ear, the little noises of pleasure she was making were music in his ear. Her hips moved again and he decided to help her out, his hand moving down and dropping below the waistband of her panties making her gasp as his fingers worked her. She was warm, wet, and he loved the fact he had this effect on her. Her hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from her lips at the sensation as he nipped slightly at her neck and then moved his mouth to her chest, taking her right nipple in. Her groans were growing louder now and Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to be in her, surrounded by her, feel her. His hands both shot to the side of her panties, completely forgetting his strength and he heard them tear. He dropped his forehead onto her sternum, letting out a groan at his stupidity before he heard a laugh, his head shooting up in surprise at the fact she found it funny.

“I’m sorry…” he blurted out as she continued to giggle.

“You literally just ripped my pants off” she snorted out and he felt himself begin to chuckle too.

“Guess I forgot my own strength.” he offered as explanation, looking at her.

“You know they were Victoria Secrets?” She quipped, looking at him. He had no idea what that meant, but he assumed it was some kind of expensive lingerie shop. A sudden joke popped into his head and before he could stop himself he shot it out.

“Sucks to be Victoria then.” and this made her laugh even more.

Eventually their laughter died down, and they shared another quick glance, and then her lips were back on his, still smiling as she flipped the waistband of his boxers down, and he shimmied out of them, before settling into the space in between her hips. She moved underneath him, telling him exactly what she wanted and he was so ready to oblige. He kissed her hard, his right hand tangling into her left as she reached down with her right, grasping him in her hand causing him to hiss slightly. She guided him to where she wanted him and he gently pushed into her. The sensation caused both of them to groan, Katie leaning back against the pillows as he stretched her, his girth and length filling her completely.

"God," Steve breathed, temporarily paralysed by the way her tightness gripped him His arms shook and he dropped down to his elbows the hand within hers tightening, as his entire body felt coiled tight like snake ready to strike.

The stillness gave Katie time to adjust to his size, but one she had she was aching for him to move, needing to feel him, She groaned, fingers digging into his lower back urging him on. "Stevie, please?"

He started moving his hips, slowly at first, building up speed as he gained more confidence, their hips rubbing together with every thrust. With every rock into her, moans of delight and pure pleasure filled his ear as his head rest in the crook of her neck, every inch of their bodies pressed as close as they could get. When she groaned his name, Stevie, the pet name that sounded so much sweeter coming from her, it was like a hot wire to his groin and he felt the tell-tale heat striking across his lower stomach he groaned again, wanting to hold out longer, wanting to get her there first. He brought his lips back to hers plunging his tongue into her mouth and she dug the tips of her nails into his back and he was completely overwhelmed by her. Not the sex, but her.

“Katie…I’m not sure how long I’m gonna…” he began to try and explain but then groaned again as she pushed up against him, his head dropping slightly as he struggled to fight it.

“Let me see you.” she said, nudging his nose with hers, her voice ragged. “Wanna see you let go baby…”

At her words he groaned and raised his head to look at her, her eyes soft and shining. He managed a few more shallow thrusts before he lost himself, stiffening and groaning as Katie watched him, his lips slightly parted as he bit his bottom lip, and then the eyes that had been locked on hers fluttered shut before he pitched forward to bury his face into her neck.

She held him running a hand through his hair as a final shudder ran down his body, the waves of pleasure finally began to subside. Her own heart was pounding with affection for her man. She didn’t particularly care that she hadn’t gotten off, nor did she care that it hadn’t lasted very long either, but he had made her feel good. He took his time, had tenderly caressed and loved every part of her, had appreciated her in a way no one else had before.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out before he could stop himself, "You didn't even – I'm sorry." He said again still kicking himself.

"Steve, stop…." She said soothingly. “Just enjoy the moment. Please”

Steve sighed as dropped his head to her chest, still inside her, as she ran her hand through his hair and down his neck. He stayed still for a while before he rolled off her and onto his back, pulling her with him so she could lie her head across his chest.

“It doesn’t matter you know” she spoke again, hand running through the soft smattering of dark blond and light brown hair on his chest “It was perfect because I was with you.”

“I just wish it had lasted longer.” he said, her words like a talisman in his chest as he cradled her close.

“It didn’t need to.” she looked up at him and felt her cheeks burning. She wanted to explain to him, exactly how she felt, but wasn’t sure she could find the words. She dropped her gaze from his face and he gently reached out with his spare hand.

“What is it?” he asked, gently reaching out to tilt her face up to look at him.

“Just…no one’s ever made me feel like that, like this before” she said gently, her eyes shining. “You were so soft and gentle and…well I don’t think I’ve ever felt so wanted…” she trailed off, shrugging.

The band tightened across his chest slightly, how could anyone not want her? Gently he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“I like being your first.” he said, and she smiled.

They lay still for a while, his fingers gently combing through her soft hair before an idea suddenly hit him and it made him swallow nervously.

“We err…we didn’t… you know, use any…protection?” he said, stilling and Katie turned her head up to look at him.

“I got that covered, don’t worry…”

“How?” he frowned, confusion filling his features.

“Stuff has moved on since the 40s Steve.” she said, simply.

Her head returned to its spot on his chest and she gave a soft yawn. He dropped a kiss to her head and closed his eyes, pulling her closer, relishing the feel of her skin against his as their legs tangled together, the pair of them satiated and completely at peace

****

He was aware of her moving. He had his face pressed into the back of her hair, breathing in her gorgeous smell, revelling in her warmth and softness as her bare back was pressed to his chest, his arm wrapping around her, laying just under her breasts. It was all he could do not to moan as she untangled herself and he cracked an eye open, watching her bare ass and back as she made her way into the en-suite. Smiling softly through his tiredness he rolled onto his back, one hand straying to his hair as he lay still. Eventually he heard her make her way back into the room and felt the bed dip again. He could feel her eyes on him, simply watching. And it was all he could do to keep the smirk off his face.

“You get a good look?” he mumbled, shifting slightly, voice thick from sleep, eyes still closed.

“Sorry…” she said softly and he felt her finger gently tracing his jaw. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Well he was awake now, her touch igniting that desire once more. He shifted onto his side and cracked one eye open, taking in her appearance. Her long hair was cascading in slightly tangled waves round her face, and she looked absolutely stunning.

“I can think of worse things to wake up to.” he said honestly before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She responded willingly, his hand dropping to her hip before moving to her back and pulling her closer to him, the other arm snaking under her neck and angling her head to deepen the kiss. He rolled her over onto her back, one leg positioning itself between hers and he dropped his lips to her neck, nipping at that magical spot again. She let out a soft moan before she sat up slightly, pushing on his shoulders. It was just a hard enough shove to make him understand she wanted him lay on his back, and he was more than happy to let her take control this time. As she straddled him his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her face down to kiss him and as he did so she reached down between them, taking him in her hand and stroking him into full hardness which didn’t take much. He groaned but didn’t release her mouth as she adjusted position to take him in.

Slowly she slid down onto him, groaning into the kiss as she stayed pressed against him, and she began to work herself on top of him. She was quick to find a rhythm and her mouth fell open against his lips and she let out a shaky moan before sitting up fully.

This was another first for him and the sight of her on top, illuminated by the early morning sun sneaking in through her curtains was divine. He wanted to touch her, so he did, bringing her hands up to run them up her sides until his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs running over her nipples as she let out another moan. As she picked up the pace his hands went to her hips, pulling her down onto him harder, thrusting upwards to meet her for every move she made. She continued to move, quickening, her eyes never leaving his.

“Steve…”she groaned, as he tilted his hips up harder and he let out a groan himself, increasingly determined to get her there this time. As he felt himself beginning to tip over the edge, his hand moved from her hip to stroke at that spot between her legs and that did it. He felt her tense up and tighten around him, crying out loudly and unbridled as she shook. The sight of her coming undone on top of him, her cheeks flushed, lips pink, mouth open in a now silent scream, was simply incredible and quite possibly the single most exquisite thing he had ever seen. All of that, coupled with the force of her heat tightening even more made him lose himself again.

“Fuck, Doll…” the curse fell from his lips as he thrust upwards, before he spilled himself inside her again, the wave of pleasure deeper than anything he’d felt before. Katie collapsed forward onto his chest, her tremors subsided, both of them panting. He held her close, his fingers running up and down her spine as she let out a soft “hum” of contentment and he sat up, wanting to see her face to face. Still cradling her close he pushed the hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ears and she reached up, running her hands through his, causing him to close his eyes at the sensation of her nails on his scalp.

When he opened them again and looked at her something flashed in her eyes as the slight gleam of light through the curtains caught her face. She was looking at him, features soft, almost as if she was seeing him for the first time. His breath quickened slightly and he knew then that he was head over heels in love with her. No one had come close to ever making him feel like this and as he gazed at her, seeing the adoration in her eyes, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Katie…” he said quietly, almost nervously, as he pulled her closer, his nose rubbing up against hers “You know…I love you.”

She didn’t hesitate to reply, she didn’t need to. If she was honest she’d loved him now way before they’d even started any of this. So without missing a single beat, she spoke in return as their noses continued their lazy dance, the words coming easily.

"I love you too.”

Her reply lit a fire in his chest and he kissed her softly, grinning like a total idiot as she was smiling too, the kisses growing softer and shorter until she pulled away completely, her hand on his cheek, her eyelids heavy. He glanced at the clock, it was little past 6 and they could sleep in today. He had no desire to run, no desire to leave at all, so he set them both and slid a hand under her neck and pulled her to him, chest pressing into her back. He swept her hair to one side and placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck before he pulled the covers back up over them and closed his eyes.

Right there Steve would have challenged any man on the planet to prove they were happier than him.

*********

Thanks for reading so far!!

Tags

@the-omni-princess​

@momobaby227​

[overwatch-headcannons]

NSFW Alphabet - Tracer (Lena Oxton)

A=Aftercare - What they do/act like after sex.

- Once you two finish she’ll surprisingly be pooped out, too tired to move, but she’ll turn to face you, face still flushed pink and tell you how awesome you are and how great the both of you did. She’ll tease you by saying “Looks like I’ve got some work to do, to beat you!” along with a wink that’ll leave you red-faced, she’ll laugh and pepper your face with kisses.

B=Bondage - Are they into BDSM, and how far they’ll go if they have a green light.

-  Perhaps very light bondage, like tying the arms and legs, a blindfold, and cuffs. She herself doesn’t like it all that much but she’s willing to try if it means it’ll please her partner.

C=Cum - pretty self explanatory.

- If the partner is Female: Lick it off of her finger’s and lips after going down/eating you out and she’ll make sure to keep eye-contact and tell you how wonderful you taste. (audible wink) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- If the partner is Male: On her face and breasts, she’ll giggle and tell you what a naughty boy you are. 

D=Dom - Are they dominant, submissive, a switch?

- A solid switch.

E=Edgeplay - Similar to ‘Kinks’ except it’s a lot riskier than usual kinks (knifeplay, breathplay, etc.).

- No no no no nononononoooooo! Immediate turn-off, she doesn’t want to run the risk of getting herself hurt or hurt you, she’ll never forgive herself if she allowed it. You cannot convince her otherwise.

F=Fantasy - A fantasy of theirs (ex: a teacher/student fantasy).

- I feel like she would have a light commander/pilot kink, after all, before her accident she was a pilot and she absolutely loved to follow rules and be told what to do by her superiors in order to rank high and shine bright amongst her peers. So, you telling her what to do with an authoritative voice is all that she needs to get the water-gates-a-flowin’.

G=Got Caught - How they react when they get caught having sex.

- Red-faced and a shriek of surprise as she blinks to the door and slams it shut on the intruder, sputtering out an “I’m s-sorry l-luv!”, she blinks back to you and you see that her hair is a complete mess, eyes like saucers, and tomato-red cheeks. You’ll laugh and pull her back in, telling her that it doesn’t matter if they saw anything, that they’ll never know how good she is, and how much you adore her. She’ll quickly gain back the confidence to go back in it again but will make a mental note to lock the door next time.

H=Hot Spots - A place that drives them crazy when stimulated (EX: neck).

- Inner thigh, breasts, neck, back, her arms, and stomach.

I=Intimacy - How romantic they are, or can be, before, during, or after sex.

- Before sex: She’ll take you to the most romantic places around town and treat you to dinner and movies, she’s already memorized the places you love and will make sure you enjoy it to the max.

- During Sex: Make’s sure to hit all of your sensitive spots during foreplay and get you ready for “the main attraction” as she likes to put it. A very careful and considerate girl, makes sure you’re well taken care of by her.

- After Sex: Kisses, lots of kisses...Oh! and cuddling! She’ll wrap the two of you up in the blankets and pull out the remote and put a movie on, something that you both like, after that, it’s straight to the bath, helping you up and taking you there. “Lena, babe, what are you doing?” she giggles “Goin’ in with you luv!”.

J=Journey - Their ideal way of leading up to sex.

- Romantic as all hell, yes she’s cheezy, and she knows you love it.

K=Kinks - I’ll list a few of their kinks, be they the normalized ones or kinkier kinks.

- Praise, body worship, roleplay, light hair pulling, light bondage, blindfolds, cuffs.

L=Location -  Where they like to have sex at, do they like risky locations, etc.

- At home, she doesn’t want to get the two of you caught. She’ll get embarrassed and put off at the idea of public, semi-public, or risky sex.

M=Masturbation - How they are when they get themselves off, what they get themselves off to.

- Dildos and vibrators galore! She’s got eight different kinds of each! 

N=NO - A few things that they will absolutely, under no circumstances, ever do.

- NO public, semi-public, or risky sex. along with NO dangerous sexual activities during intercourse. She’ll get turned off fairly quick.

O=On’s - Their top turn on’s that they have (things that’ll get them super horny super quickly).

-  When she’s alone, if you get behind her without her noticing and start kissing her neck, maybe cup her breasts and let your fingers wander down below and holy shit, she’s on fire.

P=Position -  Their favourite position to have sex in.

Female Partner- 69, Tisted scissor, all tied up, reverse face-sitting, elevated missionary with strap on, doggy style with strap on, girl on girl.

Male partner- Missionary, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, butterfly, face to face, from behind, in a chair.

Q=Quickie - Do they like it, do they prefer quickies over actual sex, etc.

- If she’s not busy with work, sure why not! otherwise, she doesn’t want to, mostly because she feels that in quickies she isn’t appreciating you enough and wants to show all of her love to you during passionate sex.

R=Rough - How rough they are, or get, when in bed.

- Not that rough but also not that soft, she wants to show you that she’s capable of being flexable, just tell her what you want and as long as she’s 100% sure she’s not hurting you, she’ll be a bit rough.

S=Stamina - How long they can go before they tap out.

- Three rounds max when very pent up, but after a long hard day of work I’d say one or two. 

T=Toys - Do use toys, do they own them, what kind, etc.

- Dildos and vibrators for her and her female/male S/O.

U=Unfair - How much they tease you, how they tease you, etc.

- a fair teaser, if she knows tha she’s aggitating you she’ll stop, but if she wants to see you beg she will definetly tease you to heaven and back.

V=Volume - How loud they get when having sex, things they might say, etc.

- Very loud, please keep the door locked, thanks!

W=Wild Card - a random letter for the character of your choice.

- She enjoys teasing you during sex, she’ll kiss and bite here and there, drive you ‘up the wall’ and make you beg for more. Absolutely adores the sound of your voice.

X=X-Ray - How they look with their clothes off.

- Well toned! Works out often to keep up with her peers at overwatch.

Y=Yearning - How often they need to have sex.

- Twice to three times a week.

Z=ZZZ - How quickly they fall asleep after having sex.

- Not immediately but when all is quiet and you’re both warm and snug like bugs in a rug? oh hell yeah, nap time mode engaged.

[visionsofus]

Field Trips, Infinity Stones, and oh mY GOD IS THAT SPIDER-MAN?

CH1  | CH2  | CH3  | CH4  | CH5

| CHAPTER 6 ~ sudden surprises and sombre sentiments |

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter unveils the last gift that Mr Stark left him along with an emotional message that he isn’t quite ready to hear. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter tried to avoid his classmates' gaze as he slowly made his way over to the CEO of Stark Industries. He had been looking forward to catching up with Pepper, Morgan and Happy but it seemed she had other plans. Peter wasn't entirely sure what he'd done to earn such a cold reaction from her but he had an inkling it might have something to do with him sneaking the iron spider suit into SI earlier that morning. Not that Peter bringing his Spidey suit to work had ever been a problem before.

"Peter!" A little voice cried and the sound of small shoes could be heard tapping against the polished floor of the lab. As Peter slowly rounded the group of students and interns he came face to face with Morgan Stark.

"Oh hey!" Peter said immediately breaking into a smile and dropping to his knees to hug Morgan once she reached him. "How you doing kiddo?"

"Good." Morgan replied sweetly, hugging Peter back.

Growing up Peter had never had the experience of having a younger sibling, or even cousins, given that May had never had kids. Though he had only met Morgan a few times, Peter already doted on her like an older brother. The first time they had met at the funeral, Peter hadn't been able to keep himself together knowing that Morgan was going to have to grow up without her dad. Peter had gone through that first hand and knew how difficult it was and he was determined to be there to help if Morgan needed him.

"Morgan." Pepper said sighing, her poker face dropping immediately in favour of fond exasperation. Peter looked up at the CEO again and took in her all black attire, a clear mark of the tragedy she was still recovering from. Peter couldn't help noticing the faint bags under her eyes and the red that rimmed her eyelids. It seemed the last month hadn’t treated her well. Knowing that Pepper was here at SI helping the rest of the world get back on its feet even though she had just lost a core part of her worldfilled Peter with endless admiration.

A couple of quiet 'aww's had broken out amongst Peter's classmates as Morgan took his hand in her small one and dragged him over to her Mom.

"Sweetie, Mommy said to wait outside with Happy." Pepper said taking Morgan's other hand once the two had reached her.

"But Happy said I could come in and see Peter." Morgan said beaming up at Peter.

"Of course he did," Pepper said shaking her head, "Abigail, Mr Harrington, please excuse Peter until lunch, I have a few things to discuss with him regarding his internship.

Peter glanced at his teacher whose eyes were flicking between Peter and the CEO, betraying the confusion he was obviously experiencing. "Of course, we'll see him again at lunch time then…" Mr Harrington said trailing off.

Deciding that the adults had finished their business, Morgan took the lead and pulled Pepper and Peter behind her as they left the lab.

"Sorry if I was a bit cold back there Peter," Pepper said once they were clear of the lab, she let go of Morgan's hand and pulled Peter in for a warm hug.

"Oh it's no worries at all." Peter said returning the hug with one arm, given that his other hand was still held in Morgan's tight grip.

Pepper drew back again, "I got Friday to keep an eye on you and it seemed that you were having a few issueswith some of your classmates. Particularly, after that run in with Dr Banner, Ms Maximoff and the Princess of Wakanda, I don't know why they had to stop at that floor, they should have just come straight up to the lab… Anyway," Pepper sighed, "I figured me coming in and acting all friendly wouldn't really help things if you're still trying to fly under the radar re the whole Spider-Man thing. But little Morgan had other ideas." Pepper said taking her daughter's hand again and squeezing it.

Before Peter could reply he was clapped on the back by the strong hand of Happy Hogan.

"Happy!" Peter said, not realising how relieved he was to see his 'babysitter' again, though it had been little more than a month.

"It's good to see you kid." Happy admitted with a smile, quite unlike the unbothered front he used to put up around Peter.

"Let's head up to my office and we can talk more there." Pepper said calling an elevator down. It arrived within seconds and the four of them got on.

"I'm hungry." Morgan said rubbing at her eyes.

"There's food up in Mommy's office, we'll get you something tasty." Pepper assured, smoothing Morgan's hair down and tucking it behind the little girl's ear.

"So how you been kid?" Happy said turning to Peter and leaning casually against the glass interior of the elevator.

"Oh you know." Peter said shrugging, "I'm getting by, trying to do homework again, thinking about the future and where I am going for college. Those sort of things." He knew that Happy was probably trying for a deeper answer to his question but didn't seem inclined to push Peter any further. "What about you?"

"Eh," Happy said shrugging. "Helping out where I can, sometimes I'm at SI, sometimes I'm babysitting squirt here," he said looking fondly at Morgan, "other times I'm doing recon with the Avengers. It's all Pepper though."

"You're very helpful Happy." Pepper said smiling.

"I feel like I should be doing more…" Peter said looking at his feet. "But after everything that's happened I just haven't been able to bring myself to…" He didn't like how quickly he was ready to fall apart as he let the sentence die off and tried to breath slowly.

"You did so much, Peter." Pepper said smiling sorrowfully and taking a deep breath. "We're all just trying to do our best, sometimes that's all we can manage."

Peter swallowed and nodded, looking down at his feet once more. He wasn't sure how much Morgan understood of their conversation but she seemed to feel the sorrow that was now emanating from them. To fill the silence she started to chatter, telling Peter about one of her toys that she had pulled apart and put back together again. There was definitely a large part of Tony in her.

Eventually the elevator reached Pepper's office on the top floor of the building and the four of them got out.

"I hope you don’t mind me pulling you out of the tour, I figured you've probably heard and seen a lot of what they were talking about anyway." Pepper said walking across the open plan office space towards her desk which looked out over a stunning view of New York City. Happy took Morgan off to the kitchenette in search of the food she had been promised.

"Oh no it's completely fine." Peter replied following Pepper. "This gives me a break from some of the uncomfortable questions I've been getting today too." He'd no doubt have more once he returned though.

"From what I saw on the feed they were more like accusations." Pepper mused, shifting a few files on her desk as she searched for something. "I saw what Wanda Maximoff did to one of your classmates, I only hope that he doesn't make it into a problem."

He deserved it though. Peter had to bite his tongue from saying that out loud, he really didn't want to say anything that would disappoint Ms Potts. Implying that a weak and defenceless human like Flash deserved an ass kicking from the Scarlet Witch, no matter how much Peter would have paid to see it, wasn't right. Right?

"He won't cause any problems, he's probably too embarrassed about it anyway." Peter assured her.

"Let's hope so." Pepper said absentmindedly as she continued to search through the papers on her desk before picking up a faded envelope with scrawled writing on the front.

"Is this about what you mentioned in your email?" Peter asked, his curiosity besting him.

"It is." Pepper said extending the envelope to him.

Peter took it in both hands, it was too heavy to just hold paper but from the outside it didn't seem to be anything more than an ordinary envelope. There was one thing about the envelope that Peter noticed as he held it in his hands. It was old. The corners were slightly worn as though it had been handled a fair bit. The writing on the front, Peter's name and address, was slightly faded as though it had been written a long time ago.

"What is this?" Peter asked, shadowing Pepper's movements as she walked over to the window and turned her gaze out to the overcast skyline. The clouds had hung over New York for the last three days though it seemed that there was finally a bit of sun starting to creep through the dense, grey cover.

"A gift," Pepper said quietly, folding her hands before her, "from Tony. He meant to give it to you for your 19th birthday but then the Snap happened and… well he never got the chance."

Peter looked down at the envelope and turned it over in his hands, feeling the frayed corners. It seemed uncharacteristic of Mr Stark to write a letter so Peter wondered what on earth the envelope could contain, it had to be important for them to have kept it for five years.

"Go ahead and open it." Pepper prompted.

Peter did so, slipping a finger under the flap in the corner and tugging the paper apart gently. It tore easily and Peter carefully shook the contents out onto his palm. A thin, shimmery card, a slip of paper and a SI hard drive tumbled out.

"A clearance card…?" Peter said in confusion, picking up the first item that drew his attention.  "But Mr Stark gave me a Platinum X card for my 18th birthday."

"This one is different, specially made, it's one of a kind."

Peter held the card up to the light and admired it. It was indeed different from his current clearance card. There were no details embellished on it, no ID number or clearance level. There was however, the Spider-Man logo on one side of the card and it shifted depending on how you tilted it, making the spider seem almost holographic. Peter flipped the card over and sighed sorrowfully. The Avengers logo took up the back of it with a glittery red and blue finish.

"There was a letter with it as well, but Tony burnt it after the Decimation." Pepper said quietly. "He almost snapped the card too but I don't think he could bring himself to."

"I don't understand." Peter said, his voice thick, he hadn't realised he'd been getting emotional. "This? What is this? What does it open?"

"Check the piece of paper." Pepper said indicating the slip of paper that had fallen out of the envelope but not answering any of Peter's questions.

Peter picked it up and turned it over.  The date '21 April 2023' followed by 'level 27' was written messily, as though it had been done in a hurry.

Peter turned his attention to the third and heaviest item. The hard drive. It was a simple black but had a piece of paper stuck on its back with sticky tape that read 'PETER PARKER' in capital letters. Peter frowned in confusion and bit his lip.

"Still don't understand?" Pepper said smiling in sad amusement.

"Not quite." Peter said looking back at the piece of paper. The 21st of April was just over a month ago but what was so significant about that date? Level 27? Peter wasn't sure he had ever had any reason to go to level 27.

"He wanted to show you round himself but since that's not possible now I'm guessing that there is some sort of explanation for you saved under that date." Pepper explained turning away from the window. "Head down to 27. The key card is designed specifically for your use on that level and at the moment none of the other employees have been granted access."

Peter remained standing by the window and looking at the dated piece of paper a moment longer. "Tony was confusing at times but I know he would have wanted you to have this no matter what. Go down to 27, have a look around and then we can talk later about your future at Stark Industries and potentially your future role in the Avengers too." Pepper told him.

"And the hard drive?" Peter asked holding the object up in his hand and turning it over.

"You'll understand everything down there." Pepper said shepherding Peter towards the lift.

"Ok…" Peter said quietly, walking with her. He turned his attention to the key card again and flipping it over a few times, marvelling at how the light danced on it's shimmery red and blue surface.

"Have a look around 27 and when you're ready head back down to get some food, we'll see you again later at the memorial." Pepper said pressing the button for the elevator. Peter craned his neck to try and catch a glimpse of Happy and Morgan before he left. "Don't worry, they'll both be there this evening." Pepper assured him warmly.

"Alright, thank you." He said looking up at Pepper one last time before he go into the elevator.

"Oh and try not to blow anything up while you're down there ok? We'll need to run through all the safety protocols as well, if you decide to start working with us." Pepper said cryptically.

"Umm ok." Peter said nervously, his voice cracking slightly. What on earth was there to blow up on floor 27?

The elevator doors slid shut and a bot spoke up from the receiver to his right, "Please input level."

Peter looked down at the slip of paper that he had clasped in his hand and shrugged. "27?"

"Please scan the appropriate clearance card." The panel on the side of the elevator lit up, indicating where Peter should scan his card.

Out of habit Peter immediately retrieved his Platinum X card from his pocket and scanned it. The panel flashed red, denying the access card. Peter frowned, that had never happened before… unless…

Peter waved the new Avengers x Spider-Man card in front of the scanner and this time it flashed an affirming green.

"What the heck." He mumbled, returning both key cards to his pocket. He then thought better of it and put them in the back pocket of his backpack for safe keeping, alongside his phone and wallet. Ned was going to lose his absolute mind when Peter told him all about this later.

Peter felt the unpleasant feeling of his stomach dropping as the elevator went down.  He bounced on the balls of his feet nervously as he watched the screen above the door counting, 33….32…. There were only six levels that it had to go and soon the elevator came to a stop at level 27.

"Welcome Spider-Man." The elevator bot said as the doors opened. Peter jumped in surprise, that had definitelynever happened before.

"Hello?" He asked hesitantly, looking at the corridor that now stretched out in front of him, the only way in or out of the elevator.

Naturally there was no answer. Feeling that he had no other choice and slightly overwhelmed with curiosity, Peter stepped into the corridor and strode quietly towards the door situated at the end, his sneakers whispering against the white floors. He thought about retrieving his ear piece so that he could talk to Karen but decided he was being a baby and didn't need the comfort that the AI probably would have provided. Besides, she was no doubt observing what was happening from the security cameras positioned in the corners of the hallway.

"Please state your full name." A bot asked when he tried to open the imposing stainless steel door.

"Peter Parker?" Peter said thinking how MJ probably would have teased him for the way he managed to make his own name sound like it were a question.

Slowly, and somewhat ominously, the door slid open. Peter breathed in deeply, noticing how the air felt different behind the door. It seemed old and undisturbed and he could almost smell the thick dust already. Whatever stretched beyond the doorway was somewhat difficult to tell. Even with his enhanced sight the room extended so far and faded into such deep darkness that Peter struggled to make out anything past the first 7 feet.

Peter stood up to the threshold and strained his ears, listening for any sign that the room was otherwise occupied. He relaxed a little after a few seconds, finding relief in the fact that he was truly alone. He loved being around his friends and May but there was definitely a part of him that had missed having some alone time to think this last month. He'd always gotten that little bit of solitude through being Spider-Man and watching over the city at night when he did his rounds. But that was before and this was now. Peter turned his attention to the situation at hand.

As he stepped over the threshold he triggered a censor above the doorway that resulted in all the lights being turned on. Peter heard the hum of energy in the walls as it coursed towards the overhead lights. He quickly raised a hand to shield his eyes from the bright light above that made the corridor behind him seem positively dark in comparison.

Peter expected to be met with the same, insistent ringing sound of the fluorescent lighting strips that he was all too familiar with at SI. Instead the lighting was somehow softer, and while he could still hear the electricity thrumming through the room, it was a lot easier to sound out. For some reason the type of lights in this room were different to the rest of SI.

As Peter tried to take in the room before him he felt his stomach drop to the floor.

The entire left wing of level 27 appeared to be open plan, Peter could see it stretching around the corner of the wall he was standing in front of. The space was wide and open unlike the rest of Stark Industries that was divided into labs and corridors and conference spaces. Peter ran his eyes from the wall all the way on his left over to the window to ceiling windows, currently shielded by thick black-out blinds. The main feature of the room he was looking at was the work space, defined by the rubbery black mat it was built around, reminding Peter of Mr Stark's lab which he had got to work in a few times. The black mat always made Peter feel like he was bouncing when he walked but it was actually so that the floor beneath didn't get damaged, the bouncing was an added perk though. Though Mr Stark hadn't been exactly pleased with Peter jumping around the testing area. Dotted around and on the work space were long metal benches and holo-tables, covered with dusty plastic sheeting as though they had never been used. Over to Peter's right was a sort of living space with two long couches, a coffee table and a huge flat screen television, again, all of it was covered up to protect it from the dust.

One part of the space drew Peter's attention above all else and he strode over to the back of the room. Against the wall stood three large cases that reminded Peter of the one's he had seen Mr Stark keep the Iron Man marks in. Peter reached up hesitantly, glancing around though he knew that there was no one else in the room with him. Peter grabbed a corner of the plastic sheet covering the third case and tugged firmly, sending it cascading to the ground along with what seemed to be a years worth of dust. Peter coughed and waved a hand before his face so he didn't inhale anymore than he had to. Peter tried not to gape at what the case was holding. It was entirely black, combat looking suit with two eyes on the headgear. Peter tilted his head, there was no arachnid that marked the suit as a Spider-Man suit but those eyes were definitely-

"File name: 21st April 2023." A disembodied voice said from built in speakers in the roof above Peter's head, cutting off his train of thought.

Peter spun around to see that a large holo-table, at least two times the size of the ones the interns used, was lit up with a blue file waiting to be opened. Peter walked around to the other side of the table and set his backpack down at its foot. Glancing down at the piece of paper he was still holding he confirmed that the date was indeed the same, 21 April 2023. Hesitantly, Peter extended a hand and opened the file.

Peter yelled in surprise and jumped back, falling to the grown as the hologram burst to life.

Tony Stark leant casually against the holo-table.

"Mr Stark?" Peter said, his voice cracking with emotion as he slowly picked himself up. Hologram Tony wasn't moving but was looking down at his hands folded before him.

"Hey kid…. Hey Peter." Tony began after a few seconds and looked up to somewhere past Peter's head. "I don't know if you'll ever get to see this."

Tony paused thoughtfully and then shook his head, "Hell, I don't even know why I'm filming this video… I'm probably just being paranoid." Tony rubbed at his eyes with the palm of his hand and sighed. "What do I even say?"

Peter scrunched his hands into fists to keep them from shaking as he hung onto everyone word that the recording of Tony said.

"Its been five years… things are very different now. I'm so sorry kid. I - I never thought that it would end this way, I never meant for-" Tony broke off abruptly and looked down at his hands again, seemingly collecting his thoughts before speaking again. He sighed loudly and pushed himself off the holo-table.

"What am I talking about right now…. Yes right, the Lab. This whole space was supposed to be for you. Surprise?" Tony said gesturing behind him with little enthusiasm.

Peter's resolve was beginning to crack and he could feel his eyes pricking as tears threatened to spill over.

"I was going to ask you to come work here at SI, at least part time while you were at college, maybe we'd get you in on the whole avengers gig too? And that hard drive? All of my work since 09 is stored on it so look after it and don't go showing it off to your friend… Nick? Niall?" He waved a hand, "Buttttt…. If you're watching this video it means that something happened to me which is why I can't be hear to show you round myself- who am I kidding… everything is going to be fine." Tony said, more to himself than the camera that was recording the message. He nodded firmly to himself.

Peter gave up and let the tears trickle down his cheeks, one hand pressed against his mouth to silence sobs.

"We’re gonna try something crazy kid… I don't know if it's going to work and I gotta be honest with you… I'm scared."

Tony was quiet for a moment and looked down at the floor before speaking again. "You know that photo we took together for the internship? Well I picked it up again a few days ago and it all sort of hit me. I've been so, so lucky these last five years. Looking at that photo… it just made me realise that I have a responsibility to do whatever I can to bring you back, if we have a chance, even a tiny change to bring everyone back then we have to try. Whatever it takes."

"Mr Stark." Peter said wiping at his cheeks and hiccupping slightly. "You should've just stayed with you family, now they're all here but you're not and Morgan is going to have to grow up without you and-"

Peter was interrupted as the recording proceeded. "The thing is… even though I have my family here I know that there are plenty out there that are divided and broken. Hell, even though you could be a real pain in the ass sometimes you were a really great kid Peter. Oh god here I am getting all sentimental, who would've thought." Tony said frowning. "Point is… we have to do this. We have to try. And I'm probably over thinking this all and it'll all turn out well and we'll bring everyone back and I'll delete this stupid recording and be able to show you the lab myself. You'll be able to meet Morgan, god she'd really like you." Tony mused, resting his chin on his hand and smiling to himself.

Peter's resolve had well and truly broken and he was now sobbing quietly, his breathing hiccupping here and there. He crossed his arms in front of his chest in a weak attempt to contain the sound. The crying won out and he let out a heaving sob as his breathing hiccuped irruglarly. God… he hadn't cried like this since the day it happened.

"But… you know just in case I don't- if something goes wrong or- if I'm not there… I want you to know that what you're doing… it's all enough. My dad never told me that, and I really needed to here it, so hell maybe you do to." Tony paused after that and stared at the ground thoughtfully before looking up again. When he did, Peter, though his view was significantly obscured by tears, felt as though his mentor's eyes were looking directly at him and it only made him cry more.

It wasn't fair. Why had everyone else gotten their loved ones back but Tony wasn't here to see it. Peter's heart ached for Morgan and Pepper and Colonel Rhodes and Happy and Harley.

"You're good enough, kid." Tony said simply shrugging.

Peter's heart ached for every single person that had needed Tony Stark in their life, including himself. He cried because he'd never get to see Tony again. He'd never be able to go to Tony with dumb questions about science or slightly more serious moral dilemmas about being a superhero. Peter had lost the one person who truly understood him, both his brain and his alter ego. He'd lost the one person he'd wanted to make proud above all others, not just as Peter Parker but as Spider-Man.

"I know I could be harsh on you. But you've always been enough, I hope you know that kid. I know this super-hero thing can be a lot but no matter what, you areready to be an Avenger… I feel it, " Tony tapped at his heart earnestly.

"But I'm not.' Peter said through tears. He tilted his head back, trying to force his sobbing to stop. He was so sick of being sad and wanting to cry all the time. Peter hated being in this weird limbo of happy and sad where he could laugh easily at a joke but then feel so hopeless a moment later. He'd give anything to go back to life five years ago, hell he'd probably even rather go back to life before the Avengers, before he met Tony and before that damned spider bit him.

"I'm sure things aren't ideal right now but know that whatever life throws at you, you have the strength to get through it all, no matter what I know you-"

Peter lunged forward and paused the video not able to hear any more. They were the words of a dead man talking to Peter's past. Things were different now.

Peter took a few deep breaths and bit at his lip so hard that he wondered if he had drawn blood. The tears had stopped but they had only been replaced by a deep ache that made him want to lie down and go to sleep.

Peter looked back at the holo-table and sighed. He shut the video down and turned the table off , retrieving his backpack from the side. He was angry. He hadn't felt angry like this in a long time. But he couldn’t help it. He didn't need any of those fancy words, as comforting as they were… he just needed Tony here to tell him in person that everything was going to be alright.

Peter didn't want to be in the lab any longer. It wasn't his. Not now. He didn't want… or deserve it.

He turned away from the holo-table and made to walk for the exit but stopped as he felt the weight of his bag bumping against his back.

With a burst of irrationality, Peter stalked over to the glass cases he had been looking at and pressed the touch pad on one of the empty ones. He pushed the open button and it hissed slightly as the glass slid back. Peter tore at the zip on his bag, lucky he didn't carelessly tear it off, and pulled the iron spider suit out.

He wasn't sure what he was doing anymore. Everything was so confusing at the moment and he had no idea what direction his life was going in. Before the Snap he had had all these amazing plans and different paths he could choose, but now he wasn't sure what to do. It was all too confusing and overwhelming and carrying this suit in his bag just made him feel like a fraud. Why had he even brought it with him today?

Peter pushed the suit onto a similar metal stand as the one that supported the black suit to his left and somehow the contraption locked the suit in with a click. Peter let go and watched as the suit unfurled into its full form and the glass hissed shut in front of it.

"Peter…" Karen's voice said through the speakers, it seemed she had been observing what had been happening in the lab. "Peter, listen-"

"I'm sorry Karen but please just leave me alone." Peter said tiredly, righting his bag on his back and stomping towards the exit. "I really don't want to be lectured right now."

"As you wish." He heard her say as he left the lab, the door sliding shut firmly behind him.

"Hey Peter, what floor can I take you to?" Friday asked, surprising him once he had made it into the elevator and scanned his Platinum X card.

"7." He said flatly. He might as well get lunch now.

"Sure thing."

Peter sighed and let his body fall against the side of the elevator. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and tried to get a grip. Why was he letting himself fall apart like this? He'd been keeping it together for a month and one stupid video was all it took for him to break.

"What am I doing?" He said to himself, his voice thick from all the crying. Peter closed his eyes and pressing his head against the cold glass of the elevator wall.

"Can I be of service?" Friday asked in response.

"No that's ok, just talking to myself." Peter said shaking his head and opening his eyes again, they were no doubt puffy and red now.

"Anything you need Peter, just let me know."  

"Thanks Friday." Peter said getting out at floor 7 and looking down the corridor to where the communal lunch area was for SI. He really didn't feel like facing anyone at the moment. He just wanted to go home, sleep for a bit, maybe watch Star Wars with Ned, maybe ask MJ to lunch… just normal things. He could do normal, he'd been so good at normal. Just look how normal he'd been in the last month!

Peter gathered his thoughts and headed reluctantly for the cafeteria. He was really starting to feel tired now, as though all the energy had been drained from him. He was well and truly exhausted, at least in the emotional sense.

Peter reached to open the door to the cafeteria and jumped when it was pushed outwards by someone leaving.

"What the heck." Flash said almost walking into Peter. "What's up Parker, finished getting fired from your internship?"

"Not right now Flash." Peter said quietly, not bothering to come up with a retort. What shitty timing, of course Flash was leaving just in time for Peter to bump into him as he arrived.

"Oh get off your high horse-" Flash began and then caught sight of Peter's face, which must have looked a good deal worse than Peter had thought. "Oh…. Um are you ok?" Flash asked uncomfortably.

"I'm fine." Peter snapped turning his eyes away.

"Are you sure? Do you need me to-" Flash began, his tone so reluctant that it somehow made Peter feel bad, even though he had no reason to.

"I said I'm fine." Peter said angrily and pushed past Flash into the cafeteria.

He just had to get through the rest of this day. Get through this damn tour and the memorial tonight and then he could rest.

[wendibird]

A Witch with a Sandwich on a Sandy Picnic

Summary:   Rowena decided a picnic was in order, and a certain exclusive golf course had a beautiful patch of sand just perfect for the occasion. Of course, ulterior motives were at play, and she and her Road Trip buddy, Charlie, were up to some mischief, but what does one expect from two fiery red-heads like them? Characters: Rowena & AU Charlie, (Sam mentioned) Ships: None explicitly stated (though if you DO ship Rowena/Charlie, it doesn’t outright deny it) Word Count:  1536 Cross-posted to AO3 at: https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/14961677   Author's Note: This is actually my response to the GISH puzzle challenge titled "We Put a Spell On You" where we were supposed to find any creative way we wanted to depict the answer to the riddle. The answer itself is the title of my piece, and what you see here is the result of me picturing a certain red-headed witch eating a sandwich at a picnic someplace sandy. It went through a few variations, (originally, it was MUCH more bloody, but, I figured present-day Rowena is trying to turn over a new leaf and all,) and I hope people enjoy it for the fun piece it's meant to be. (I also hope the PTB at GISH will accept this as my artistic rendering, since I kind of suck at drawing anything other than trees and rocks. *LOL*)

Also, this takes place sometime between the end of episode 13X22 and most of what happens in 13X23.

The sun which beat down with unrelenting intensity was reflected back up again by the bright sand and would have proven horribly uncomfortable for the ginger-haired witch if it weren't for the large, colorfully striped beach umbrella under which she lounged on a blanket. Just next to her was a little wooden table on which perched a cocktail, the glass beading with condensation as well as a small plate with tiny cucumber sandwiches, all de-crusted and cut into dainty triangles. 

She languidly selected one from the plate, her nails, the deep red of scabs, complimented the plum-colored dress she wore, and took a bite, savoring the cream-cheese spread used, seasoned with dill and a hint of roasted red-pepper. "Och, Peter, I must say, your chefs here are quite up to par." She then laughed a little at the unintended pun as Peter, a tall, tanned, dark-haired young man smiled in a manner that could only be considered solicitous.

"We all strive to do our best, Miss Rowena," he responded, bowing his head a little, the earpiece that had formerly been in his left ear now dangling from where it emerged from under his shirt collar. He had also loosened the straps on his utility vest which had SECURITY in large, white, block letters emblazoned across the back.

On Rowena's other side another man in security clothing waved a large fan towards the witch while a third man wearing the clothes of a golf caddy was busy peeling a small bowl of grapes.

A few others in various clothing ranging from security personal to caddies to waiters all seemed engaged in some task or another for the red-head.  Some fetched food, one was plumping a pillow behind her, and a middle-aged, somewhat plump man who was wearing expensive golfing clothes was quite busy giving her a foot massage.

From further off, yet another security man cautiously approached the sand trap on which Rowena had set up her little picnic, the brilliant green grass of the golf-course contrasting sharply with his black attire. He tilted his head a little as something apparently came to him over his earpiece. "Negative," he responded in a low tone, "still no indication as to why Jones and the others haven't apprehended the... security risk," he finished, not seeming too sure of what to call her exactly. "Moving in now."

As he drew a bit closer he paused, a look of confusion blooming on his face as he got a better look at the scene before him. "Um... the Senator has been located. He... uh... he seems... er... it appears he's giving the "security risk" a foot massage." He winced a bit as a sharp response came over the earpiece. "No, I am NOT making this up!" he loud-whispered. "Everyone else is accounted for. No one appears to be injured but... no one's... well, acting right. I'll try to move in closer to see if I can make contact."

As he indeed moved closer he crossed an unseen barrier, one formed by the 5 hex-bags Rowena had placed around her little beach oasis amongst the rolling fields of green, and his eyes briefly flashed with a violet light before his entire demeanor changed. Where before he had been tightly wound, like a cat stalking its prey, he now relaxed, holstering his gun as a somewhat vague but happy smile spread over his face. When the voice on the other end of the earpiece continued squawking at him, he simply pulled it out as the others before him had done and continued walking towards the sand trap at a leisurely saunter.

Rowena looked up, lowering her sunglasses a bit to better appraise the newcomer approaching them. "Well, aren't you a tall drink o' water?" she observed of the man who flashed her a cheery grin. "Why don't ye help Julio over there with the grapes?" she suggested as she gestured towards the shorter man.

Nodding, the man hopped down into the trap and walked over to Julio who moved over just a bit to give the other guy room. Just then, the distinct tones of "Scotland the Brave" jingled from her little clutch-purse and with a world-weary sigh, Rowena retrieved her phone and answered. "Yes Charlie dear, everything's going splendid. Have ye finished with all your computer-y mumbo-jumbo yet?" She waited as the voice on the other end of the line chattered away for a few moments. "Excellent! I'll just wrap things up here and meet ye at the rendezvous in five minutes."

With that, she ended the call, dropping her phone back into her clutch purse. Seeming to know what she wanted, the Senator had already started putting her glitzy, bronze-looking sandals back on her feet, and once that was done, she beckoned Peter over who gave her a hand standing back up again. The one who'd been fanning her set about retrieving the blanket and after he and another shook the sand from it, they folded it up carefully. Julio and the newest addition to her appropriated "staff" eagerly presented her with the bowl of peeled grapes, which she happily took, along with the blanket which was draped over her other arm. Someone else had already collapsed the beach umbrella and now they handed her that too.

Seeming satisfied, she fished a 6th hex bag out of her clutch-purse and muttered an incantation. Everyone who'd been under her spell all started yawning before apparently deciding it was a great time for a nap and began laying down wherever they stood. Once everyone was down and out she dropped the hex bag and said a few more words in Latin and that one, along with the five others arrayed out around her burst into flames. She then sauntered away, heading for a gap in the fencing through which she'd entered the golf course in the first place.

Waiting just on the other side was a little yellow Prius with the hatch already popped open. After depositing the blanket and umbrella inside, she closed it and went around to the passenger side, climbing in. Extending the crystal bowl of peeled grapes to the other red-head, she removed her sunglasses and quirked an eyebrow, smiling mischievously. "Well, that went well."

Charlie giggled and happily plunked one of the grapes into her mouth before hitting the gas. "Definitely! I was able to hack into ALL of that douche-bag's tech he had with him. His phone, his tablet, his laptop. You would not BELIEVE the things he's kept on that, by the way."

Rowena sighed happily and enjoyed one of the grapes herself, leaning her head back as her co-conspirator rattled on.

"I got his passwords for his porn subscriptions, especially the VERY illegal ones, texts between him and his mistress, his account info for the rather expensive escort business he patronizes regularly, not to mention all the e-mails talking about the bribes for this, that, and the other-" Rowena made a shushing gesture as she finished chewing a grape.

"Yes, yes, I get the picture. Lots o' dirt on the filthy blighter... though, I will say he gives a good foot massage, but now what are ye goin' to do with it?"

Charlie grinned as she reached over, taking another grape herself. "Already done. While I was still connected to their server, I uploaded it to several news outlets as well as a bunch of online forums. That way if they try to trace any of it, it'll just lead back to the golf course. Which, by the way, is owned by our supreme ruler-in-chief."

Rowena just smiled as Charlie got them onto the freeway, heading for the open road. "So..." Charlie hedged a little, "Your distraction sure seemed to work. No one even noticed what I was up to. But, everyone's okay, right?"

Rowena rolled her eyes a little but nodded. "Don't be worryin' about that. None of em'll remember a thing, and no one got hurt. They're all takin a nice nap, and should be wakin up..." she took a moment to consult the gold, locket-like pendant watch hanging around her neck, "eh, in about five more minutes."

Charlie smiled with relief. "Good! Cause, they're all just-"

"Doin' their jobs." Rowena finished for her, chuckling a little herself. "I know, I know. Trust me, Samuel already gave me "the talk" before you an I left."

Charlie nodded emphatically. "So... what's next on our itinerary?"

"Ah, I don't know." Despite the attempted bored look she was affecting, mischief glinted from the witch's green eyes. "There's a certain Orange Baboon that could stand to be taken down a peg or two from what I hear."

Charlie grinned. "Oooo... Secret Service. You're actually gonna make me flex my muscles on this one."

"Practice makes perfect m'dear." Rowena sing-songed. "I have my witchery an' ye have yours. An clever witches can make strange magic happen in the world."

Charlie titled her head a bit, a contemplative look on her face. "Does this make me a technomancer?"

Since Rowena wasn't quite sure what that was, she just chuckled and popped an Enya CD into the player, and the ladies drove on towards the next destination on their extended adventure.

[freudensteins-monster]

Random MCU Crossover Idea#62973: Gilmore Girls

Saw a few Gilmore Girls posts today and my brain immediately went into crossover mode. And then I saw a post on Buzzfeed with things/storylines people hated and I was like, yeah, I hated that too. And I hated AYITL, and I can’t bring myself to rewatch the original seasons because Emily is SO awful, and I can’t remember why I liked the show so much originally, and yet...

The day Tony’s high school girlfriend, Maya, showed him the little plus sign on the cheap plastic pregnancy test his world was turned upside down, and hers was pretty much over. As Maya grew to resent him and everything about their situation, Tony comes to  the realisation that he doesn’t want the life their parents are planning for him, and the moment he holds his daughter, Darcy, in his arms he knows he doesn’t want that life for her either.

As soon as Darcy can be seperated from her mother (Maya only too happy to sign over her parental rights), Tony packs their things and takes the busted up hot rod his father had bought him for his 15th birthday (promising they’d do it up together but Howard never did find the time) and drives all night until it finally breaks down outside Angie’s Diner in Stars Hollow, run by Angie and her partner Peggy.

They take him in and talk the owner of the Independance Inn into let him stay in a small renovated shed on the grounds in return for doing repairs around the place. Whilst completely overwhelmed with the path he’s chosen, Tony does his best to build a life for his daughter, bussing tables at Angie’s and working odd jobs around town with Darcy in tow, and eventually moving into the apartment above Angie’s when she and Peggy buy a nice house on Maple Street.

He saves every penny he can and by the time Darcy’s ready to start school he has enough to get a loan from the bank (co-signed by Angie and Peggy) and buys a small garage across town. A small part of him would have loved to put his name on it but he thinks of his family name emblazoned across hospital wings and skyscrapers and decides that “Stars Hollow Auto Repairs” works just fine.

Darcy is amazing; sweet, funny, smart as a whip, and his best friend. She’s a little more reserved socially than he was at her age, even more so after puberty hit her like a truck, but he wouldn’t change a thing about her.

He used to worry about the gap in their lives where his parents and Maya should be, but every time they suffer through a holiday dinner at his parent’s mansion, or Maya blows into town for a weekend, he’s reminded that he made the right choice. And they’ve collected a pretty amazing family for themselves anyway.

Peggy and Angie are the best pseudo parents a guy could ask for. They’re semi retired now and spend a lot of the year travelling the world, leaving the diner in the mostly capable hands of Clint and Scott, a few other strays they’d taken in over the years.

Ms Natasha runs the local dance studio and has a hand in most of the art/drama events in town. She’s constantly changing her hair (favouring blood-of-her-enemies red), knows everything about everyone, and actively encourages the rumour that she’s in witness protection, on the run from the Russian mob.

Coulson, town selectman and owner of the local market, is more of a frenemy than friend. He likes things just so and is a stickler for the rules, and encourages the townspeople to uphold Star Hollows quaint and old fashioned aesthetic. He and Tony butt heads frequently, and though Coulson thinks Tony’s now gleaming hot rod, with its loud engine and flame decals, ruins the towns image, he’s still the only person Coulson would trust to work on his baby, Lola - a cherry red Corvette that totally doesn’t gel with the aesthetics iether, Tony would constantly point out, and Coulson would argue that he never drives it *in* town.

The ironically named Happy, head chef at the Independance Inn, is one of Tony’s closest friends, and he visits Happy’s kitchen at least three times a week for lunch and to generally making a nuisance of himself, much to the annoyance of inn manager, Pepper. Pepper was the first friend he made in Stars Hollow, then just a maid at the inn who followed the sounds of a baby crying to find the teenaged father struggling to get his daughter to sleep. She helped him get Darcy settled and then stayed up talking with him until he wound down enough to fall asleep himself. During those first few weeks she even went so far as to take Darcy, safetly nestled in amongst the clean towels, with her while she cleaned rooms when it was clear that Tony needed a few more hours sleep. There’s some mutual attraction there but nothing’s ever come of it. For those first few years Tony was single minded in getting his shit together and looking after Darcy, and then Pepper was dating someone, or he was. Their timing just never seemed to be right.

The day Darcy gets accepted into Shield Academy is one of the best days of their lives, until Tony sees the tuition fees. After exhausting all his options, and being laughed out of more than one bank, Tony does something he’d always promised himself he’d never do. Gathering every ounce of courage he has, and discarding his useless pride, he drives to his parents house, Darcy’s acceptance letter in hand, tail between his legs, and rings the doorbell.

"Tony? My goodness, this is a surprise. Is it Easter already?”

Darcy almost refused to go to Shield Academy, causing her and Tony’s long overdue annual arguement (usually it happens in July when it’s just too damn hot out and tempers are frayed). She’d miss her best - and only - friend, Daisy, she’d said. Though she’d be okay with getting fewer death glares from Mrs May, a strict and imposing healthy living enthusiast, who loathes technology and makes her daughter use the local library computers for her school work (but for never more than an hour a day). Darcy would hate to be there when Mrs May found out about the candy bars Daisy has stashed under the floorboards, the various parts of Daisy’s home-made computer hidden around her room, or the fact that her daughter hacks her neighbours wifi regularly and with great ease.

And then there was this boy, Steve. He was new to town, just moved from Brooklyn with his mom. He worked at Coulson’s market and was cute, and nice, and didn’t stare at her boobs, or make fun of her sweaters, or her glasses, or the books she carried everywhere. And when he smiled at her it made her want to do stupid things, like stay at her old school in case he decided to ask her out.

But she did go to Shield, and she did get to date Steve - the “perfect first boyfriend”. And after Steve there was Ms Natasha’s younger cousin, Bucky, another New York native supposedly running from the mob as well. He was dark, broody, smarter than anyone gave him credit for, and was rarely seen without his ancient leather jacket, the left sleeve seeming held together with duct tape. He’s a bit of a mess but slowly grows out of it, popping back into Darcy’s life at random intervals causing her head and heart a lot of confusion. And then in college there’s Loki. He’s smart, fun, maybe a little bit arrogant at times, but he’s from a wealthy and influential family - her grandparents adore him on that alone. Tony, not so much.

Tony’s dating history isn’t much better. There was Bruce, whose shy and awkward smile got him all twitterpated, but he was Darcy’s science teacher, which made their entire time together awkward and weird. He has an illadvised fling with Christine Everhart, one of his father’s head-of-something-or-other department and the daughter of one of his father’s former business partners. When things get even more complicated between their family’s companies and Christine tells him that she would have to sue Howard to get out of the mess she’s been dropped in, Tony surprises himself by siding with his father. And he and Pepper eventually try dating, but as usual their timing’s off and things don’t go smoothly. And through it all, his messy, on/off relationship with Darcy’s mother doesn’t make things any easier.

(Oh, and Luis is Kirk. And maybe Jane is a less bitchy, slightly less intense Paris?)

[sweetlifetownsville]

The Local Government Godzilla: Should The CCC Be Taking A Closer Look At The Money-Grubbing Activities Of The LGAQ?

But even if the CCC isnt bothered, you should be. The Magpie has a beak around to warn of actual or threatened raids on the ratepayers piggy banks with money-spinning schemes that really benefit no one but the LGAQ itself. Also, a look back down memory lane at solicitor Barry Taylors efforts to bring to Townsville a business urger who is now awaiting sentence next month for corruption connected to the Ipswich Council. And not unrelated, in a moment of clarity, The Magpie realises that this sorry episode was the catalyst for Taylors pathological hatred of the old bird, which continues to this day with a spiteful legal vendetta. The Pie will explain how it all fits. Some sobering statistics about the real Real Estate situation in Townsville, with some graphs the Bulletin is too coy to share with you. And for those who enjoy our now regular Trump gallery, A BONUS a few select pictorial comments on Britains Brexit fiasco. But first Even Buffoons Can Occasionally Be Funny (as The Magpie Knows) Theres been a lot of huffing, puffing and posturing about Clive Colonel Blimp Palmer during the week. First there was the hissy fit by some over Palmers text message saying if he gets back onto the parliamentary plush, he will move to ban such political texting as this.

The Magpie got one, and the old birds instant reaction? Roaring laughter. Lets give Ol Lardarse a couple of brownie points the text is one of the funniest, and surely intentional, jokes of the current election campaign. Unsurprisingly, there was instant babble about hypocrisy which came thick and fast from the pompous chatterati navel gazers, but the Pie will take his laughs where he can get them, and salutes whoever thought up this one for Palmers doomed campaign (possibly someone called S. Sokolova, who authorised the text for the UAP). In fact, doomed causes seem to be a recurring theme this week for Clive, who announced he was giving a dinner dance for a select few Towns-villains to celebrate Titanic ll the return of the legend. Sad when someone has to promise free food and booze to get them to just turn up. And the general feeling is whatever sort of guest selection process that was bubbling around behind the Palmer brow, if you didnt get an invite, then you were not considered of merit or value to Clive.

But when it became known amongst our movers and shakers who was in and who was out, it was a matter of do we laugh or cry was it a hot ticket, or a hot potato ticket, to be dropped immediately? Being favoured by Palmer is something many would like to be quiet about, but then, neither is being left out of a fabulous free food fight, ones ego can be buffeted by such neglect. Many would have loved an invite if for no other reason it have the unlikely option to RSVP sod off. But Bentley for one believes it will a unique experience, with special attire for dancers.

The highlight of the night for Clive will be when the adoring and grateful throng gather around him to sing what he will think is a fitting tribute to him, a rousing rendition of the Titanic hymn, Nearer My God To Thee. What Starts Out As A Good Idea Doesnt Always End Up That Way.

The Local Government Association of Queensland has been around since 1896, and for the most part, has been a valuable and necessary lobby group for all Queensland councils. Councils pay an annual fee to belong to the LGAQ (Townsville pays around $250K annually), membership is voluntary but all 77 Queensland councils are members. In total, they pay $35million annually in membership fees. The smaller outfits get value from matters such as insurance deals and other areas where the Associations clout can be brought to bear. But about 10 years ago, under the leadership of former Townsville council executive and now the Association CEO Greg Hallam, it was decided that there were more lucrative fields in which the Associations leverage with such a captive (albeit voluntary) membership could be used to build a significant commercial operation. Put simply, the organisation decided to become commercial entrepreneurs.

LGAQ CEO Greg Hallam And boy, did they ever. Figures for 2016 show there was a massive bump in revenues, jumping from $46m to $73m, a goodly chunk of this coming from their commercial procurement arm Local Buy (that includes the $35m membership revenue). In simple terms, Local Buy has screened and listed (for a fee) various businesses from across the state, all of whom can then by-pass the tender process and submit direct quotes for contracts to any of the 77 council members. On the face of it, this saves councils money in avoiding the costly procurement work of tendering and so on. But it also sounds like an invitation to corruption on a grand scale. The Pie has no evidence of or suggesting there is, such activity, but looking at the process, there doesnt seem to be a foolproof safeguard against some expensive jiggery-pokery if someone wanted a new spinnaker for the yacht. But does it save councils money? Local Buy is anything but since it opens up work to the whole of Queensland, often bypassing truly local businesses in the highly selective process which requires a fee for ticking the right boxes (literally, apparently). Local Buy takes a cut of the contract amount of the winning quote usually 10% but The Pie is told sometimes more. Of course, since this is all above board and known, what do the quoters do? They of course factor the 10% in and add it on to their quote, in many cases wiping out any significant savings for the council involved, as well in some instances, as denying many a rate paying, money-spending locals a job . This has caused a great deal of angst here in Townsville, whose mayor is a $32K plus a year LGAQ director, and whose sidekick (now on what seems permanent leave), Stephen The Screaming Midget Beckett, is reported to have had loud abusive outbursts with local business people who have complained about the situation. And to what end is all this? Theres a great deal of money flowing into the coffers of the Association, and they arent shy of shouting themselves lavish overseas jollies disguised as work studies. Why does a lobby group want to be so entreprenurial? Do they want to reduce council membership to zero on the user pays basis (yeah, right), or some witty cynic might suggest, as a lobby group, for a bribery pool? (Just a joke, Mr Hallam, put down the phone.) But there is a more troubling aspect to this arrangement, apart from freezing out local contractors and permanent local workers rather than special workforce brought in for a set amount of time before disappearing back wherever they came from.

If you care about strong local voice in Townsvilles affairs, it would well to be wary of a crowd called Propel Partnerships, who appear to be getting into bed with the LGAQ. Propels buzz-word blurbs try to disguise their activities by describing themselves as a shared services company and pepper their media releases with such euphemisms as fully integrated customer services; Propel Partnerships is simply a profit-driven, out-sourcing business. Current (or possibly former by now) chairman Jim Soorley, that old Labor stager from way back in Brissy, had his mate Carl Wulff, the then CEO of Liverpool Council in Sydney (now awaiting sentence in chokey for bribery in the Ipswich scandal) enter into an agreement that has ended up with the NSW Crime and Corruption Commission. This sort of thing can cost local jobs and introduce a totally remote, sometimes hostile letter-of-the-law approach to dealings with staff and with the local community in such areas as rates, payroll services (shades of Qld Health yikes!) and licensing. And not a chance of a face-to-face session of negotiation. This is an extension of the popular Big Brother move in business, a model that even further removes the public from reasonable (and reasonably expected) interaction with their council. To understand what happens in both these centralisation scenario, one need look further than the dear old Townsville Bulletin, which has been so savagely ravished by Ruperts money-hungry minions and sloppy reporting staff directed from Holt Street in Sydney, a paper which hilariously subbed in NZ, Mumbai, the Phillipines or Brisbane. Of course, one attraction for councils in this model is that it does away with the necessity of either engagement or accountability with the people who elected them or provided their jobs. This is the rapidly emerging tip of a massive iceberg, with Greg Hallam and his board deciding rather than try and fight off a competitor in an money-sinkhole business battle, instead join forces and share a cut of a captive pie. This is obvious when Hallam gave this ringing endorsement : The work of Propel Partnerships ensured that councils were ableto realise efficiencies in their operations while remaining in touch with the needs of their communities. Im confident that Propel has the right formula to bring success to any local government wanting to havethe best customer service, he said. This type of service clearly does no such thing as remaining in touch with the needs of their communities quite the opposite . Mr Hallams self-serving ideas of best customer service and that of the general public may widely differ laughably so. Saving money, especially public funds, is in most instances an admirable goal, but in this case, it is just another legalised rort of dubious value: and it is actually doubtful that the average ratepayer gets a single cents benefit therell always be reasons found not to lower ratesand charges. So be wary of this sort of further alienation of individual communities by the robotic, rorting remote control of more aspects of our lives. More Lessons To Be Learned From Post-Pisasale Ipswich Before we leave this subject, check this out.

Those figures are mind-boggling and it could easily happen here unless we are on our toes after all, before his downfall, Pisasale was lionized by Jenny Hill, who said she wanted Townsville to be more like his Ipswich. It probably is, but the CCC just hasnt found out about it. And this sort of lark dovetails nicely with the cold, callous restructure advocated in the Jenny Hill-0commissioned Nous Report. And boy, hasnt that Ipswich decision put Hallams panties in a bunch. The LGAQ chief seems somewhat spooked by the Ipswich scandal coming so close to home, and used Trumps favourite trope to discourage any close examination of local government in Queensland.

That mentioned head is of course Hallam, and it could be said, on the evidence of other corruption in councils, that the word pinhead could also apply to him. Maybe the CCC might start taking an interest in the LGAQ and all those tens of millions. Now that would be interesting. Historical Snapshot: Barry Taylor And One Of His Mates Yesteryear

On the left, the bloke that looks like his got the loser of a cat fight on his head, thats the Carl Wulff that was Jim Soorlys pal at Liverpool Council before Wulff headed north to Ipswich. And of greater interest to us here in the ville is the bloke on the right. Thats Wayne Myers, a seriously well-connected go-between linking corporate life to a number of movers and shakers in the Queensland ALP. Mr Myers has pleaded guilty to corruption in connection with the Ipswich council he has admitted he facilitated bribes to go to his co-offenders who have also pleaded guilty. He will be sentenced next month when well see just how well connected he is. But heres an interesting little bit of nostalgia Mr Myers is no stranger to Townsville, or to legal fee gouger Barry the Legal Foghorn Taylor.

Back in the early noughties, maybe 2004, Meyers rode into Townsville with the hope of siphoning a good chunk of public money into his community telco business, which was being driven out of non-performing mining minnow Rennison. It was a classic case of the Mates Economy. Myer recruited local Labor fundraiser and Mooney confrere Barry Taylor to corral a bunch of bizoids into his boardroom to hustle the dollars. Each chipped in $20k (including apparently Mrs Foghorn more on that in a minute) and then Myers went about trying to convince His Radiance Mayor Mooney that the ratepayers should (1) chip in an interest-free loan of $250k, (2) $20k of straight-up equity, and (3) commit to a long-term deal for all of the Councils telecommunications needs to the new company.

As things transpired, His Radiance, in his pre-meltdown years, had the good sense to have the matter properly researched by his then IT chief Anthony Wilson, who quickly nixed the deal offered by Myers and Taylor. Despite a lot of aww, cmon, mate, old buddy, pal entreaties, Mooney said no. In fact, The Pie was told that Mooney thought the whole thing a bad joke. The deal on the table was a dud. Myers model guaranteed fees to Rennison first and before anyone else; would have delivered sub-par service and cost outcomes to Council (Council could and did do much better); never budgeted for a repayment of the proposed loan; and didnt have a cent of interest for Council. Poor old Richard Spiderman Ferry had become the chairman of a local business he knew nothing about. He was left carrying the can, when the business model proved a failure. There is no information about what happened to any monies that may have been handed over, but you can bet Bazza put in a bill for any legals. What Myers (and Taylor, who mustve surely twigged to what Myers was up to if he hadfnt twigged, doesnt say much for his legal or business radar) tried to get away with was an arrangement where Rennison re-sold Optus Services to NQ Telco, and took a clip. Too many layers with too thin a set of margins doomed the activity from day one. Myers went on his way, and Bazza carried on his hosting of other southern white shoe brigaders and their dubious schemes, notably the disgraced fraudster Craig Gore (currently fled to Sweden in the hope of avoiding jail on multiple charges of financial fraud), who risibly said he would put in a canal estate in the duck pond in front of the casino. Considering what happed later with Port Hinchinbrook, Townsville really dodged a bullet there when that all fell flat, but no thanks to Mr Taylor. But All This Has Led To A Personal Revelation For The Pie The Magpie has never fully understood the seething animosity that has driven Taylor on a vendetta against him that continues in the courts to this day. Barry on several occasions over the years, had threatened to sue me, but was never able to say for what (he was drunk on two occasions). Of course, he was all hot air at that stage because Bazza was never brave enough in his bluster to take on News Ltd, for whom I worked at the time. When Peter Gleeson came to town, he was in Barrys pocket even before he arrived, with his wife pre-promised a cushy job with Enema Legal. I was puzzled that a boisterous boofhead like myself could attract such venom. At one stage, Taylor had Gleeson direct me to delete a quite harmless mention of him he had heard I was to include in the Magpie column (the comment simply said he had bought a multi-million dollar property in Noosa, and Barry said it could damage his reputation in Townsville his what, you laugh?) that was only time any editor interfered in any of my opinion columns for personal and not legal reasons. In that incidence, Taylor sent in a handwritten letter which Gleeson showed me (appalling writing and grammar) that strangely said that I was waging a campaign against his family. I didnt, and dont know his family, and quickly proved in the papers computer system that I had mentioned Taylor a total of 7 times in 8 years, none of them derogatory. I mentioned his wife in passing once when I wrote that she was the director of a company THAT HAD PUT $20k INTO A DUBIOUS TELCO BUSINESS WITH THE COUNCIL! Nothing illegal or even untoward was suggested, except that I didnt think it was a good idea. So there we have it. That must have been the start of it all, Baz not only being caught out in the subsequently failed telco venture, but that I had revealed he had inveigled his missus to whack up some cash as well (through a company of which she was a director, as I remember). Totally harmless, just a bit of local gossip, but somehow, Barry became as jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. His bluster continued down the years, including threatening to arrange a boycott of Michels restaurant if they didnt drop their advertising on this blog. (They did drop the ads, he was a valuable albeit much disliked customer, but were happy to let me keep the couple of hundred they had paid.) And so it goes on still, he talked poor old Rabieh Krayem into suing me for alleged libel, knowing full well that I have no money or assets to pay 100th of the ludicrous $300,000 claimed. Well, Baz, hatred comes at a cost, because you didnt reckon on two highly principled and incensed lawyer friends who offered to defend me because they cannot abide bullying, especially legal bullying like trying to spuriously involve my daughter on a technicality in matters that dont even remotely concern her. That alone was a clear measure of your craven behaviour and that of the ninny Venesa Gleeson (Typos wife) as a mother herself, youd think she might have some scruples, but alas, she will use the Hitler excuse I was just following orders least the Court of Appeal has chucked out that bit of vicious nonsense. Rabieh, make sure you have it in writing that Barry is doing this for nothing for you, and that it really, as a mutual friend told me, purely Barrys show. Otherwise, those Nudgee fees for your two lads may well end in up in the Taylor bank account in Noosa. The Townsville Property Market Will Be Hunky Dory In 2019, Says The Astonisher. As the Hotels Combined teddy bear says on telly Really? Dont believe everything Mr Convincing tells you.

Since the City Economist, David Lynch, seems largely silent, heres a chart showing building approvals for 2018 (December numbers not available yet). The data is from the Councils own website.

One could do some extra work and show the comparisons for the previous year, or two for that matter, but why take work away from Lynchy. To summarise: to the 11 months, in 2017 there were 641 dwelling approvals. In 2018 there were 432. For those numerically inclined thats 209 fewer or 30.2% less in number. And gee, I thought the stadium was going to be the one catalyst that would turn the whole show around. The one catalyst claim came from none other than the muppets at Enterprise House (where Mr Lynch used to work.) And to cap things off, The Pie offers these self-explanatory charts.

However, the Astonisher persists with its cheery inanities, but raises an interesting pictorial question. One of the spangled cheer leaders of this self-serving guff is this bloke

Propertyology managing director Simon Presley A propertyologist sorely in need of a psychologist and some serious sartorial advice. Seriously, are you going to believe a bloke who decides to sit in the middle of a busy Brisbane road, with an empty chair next to him to signify that no one else is that dopey. Keep it up, Mr Presley and youll soon be joining your namesake. Captain Towns May Have Been A Blackbirder But At least we have tucked his statue away in a discreet corner, but not those right-wing race-baiters up in Cairns. They have even got Captain Cook throwing a big Nazi salute.

Finally, Not One But Two Mini-Galleries On Overseas Matters The first is the Brexit hullabaloo, which is far from over, but has been a cartoonists cornucopia. Heres four of the best.

And That Leads Us Into The Week In Trumpistan What a difference a few hundred metres makes. Because of his tantrum induced government shut-down, Trump was without catering services to entertain a visiting football team. So as a man addicted to whoppers, he called in Burger King to provide the food for the boys (he couldve just as easily gone with Maccas, asking his guests You want lies with that?)

And just down the road in DC at the very same time, there was a food line of Federal employees who havent been paid that stretched around the block of this massive federal building.

So its true what they say about America being a land of contrasts. That issue continued to dominate the visual commentary of the week, but the New Yorker knew who was needed to sort out demon Donny.

And so it goes .. Thats it for this week, Nesters, and remember that comments run throughout the week, have your say, there was a very lively thread on the council getting involved in the citys mental health work (some hilarious) and theres plenty of fodder in this weeks Nest. And The Pie is loathe to say it, but times are a bit skinny in the Nest at the moment, with a few blog bills hitting the deck since Christmas, so any help with a donation would be greatly appreciated. The how to donate button is below. http://www.townsvillemagpie.com.au/the-local-government-godzilla-should-the-ccc-be-taking-a-closer-look-at-the-money-grubbing-activities-of-the-lgaq/