#savioriiisms

“Hmm, so you’re Kara Olsen, the reporter who’s supposed t be interviewing National City’s newest playboy?” Jackson said his eyes roaming up and down the reporter’s body taking in every inch before smirking. “Well, then how about you come on in.” He said opening the door to his penthouse and standing aside gesturing for Kara to enter.

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“Look, Pete, I don’t want to tell you how to live your life or anything but this death threat was written in three separate languages spread out across two galaxies and at least one of these languages is from a group of people that shouldn’t exist. Come on handsome, how do you manage to piss off so many in such a short amount of time huh?”

Jimmy asked all this while Pete was in his bar. Since it was Star Lord, and yes he called him Pete even if Peter asked him not too, he made sure they were alone so that nobody would try to shoot at them while he was deciphering things for the space traveler he had a not so secret crush on.

Tony had gotten over the initial shock of going from pushing his mind forties to not even being able to order alcohol legally rather quickly. Of course there was more tests to do, figure out what exactly had happened but very quickly Tony was starting to enjoy the benefits of being a far younger version of himself without even a hint of grey hair or a wrinkle in sight. He still had all his memories and knowledge as an adult, but with all the wonders of youth that came along with it. Even if Rogers was scolding him constantly to try and reverse this as soon as possible, which only gave Tony more incentive to hang onto this youth as much as possible.

Speaking of incentives, Tony had been in his private workshop for the most of the day just tinkering away with his ACDC music blasting and enjoying some alone time when F.R.I.D.A.Y. came over the speaks and informed him that ‘Mister Parker’ had arrived. Tony’s eyes immediately lit up, a knowing smile filling his face and abandoned his project. He wasn’t exactly dressed to impress, wearing a black tank top and shirt that was left open giving he was supposed to be having some alone tinkering time; but he had a feeling his prodigy in the making wouldn’t mind one little bit. 

Heading up from the basement workshop, hands slowly sliding into his pockets as he made it to the pent house living area and caught eyes of the young vigilante. Tony had indeed had inappropriate thoughts about the teenager before, never daring to act on them with their age difference to say the least. But now? Well, teenager Tony Stark did not have the same level of control. “”I figured Rogers would tell you eventually and you’d want to see for yourself, before you ask I’m fine” He reassured, eyes on Peter and a twitch of a smirk on his lips. “Well, what do you think?”

If the demon didn’t know any better, he’d believe their claims; that as the stalwart vision hovered above, he truly was the Man of Steel—big and mighty and majestic. An irony most delectable, really; from a glance alone it was easy to say that he, indeed, reeked of heroism and nobility. Of majesty. Of justice… of purity. Liam had to hide his smile at that—of the notion of someone untainted dared to face him all while looking like that. Oh yes. As the hero was clearly someone he had to face—he himself gave out that tip anonymously to the cops after all—and it was all the more reason to drink the image of the hero in; from his resolute and stern expression sculpted into both beauty and strength… to the thick cords of his neck… his tapered form… arms bulging even bigger than his head despite being relaxed… such thick thighs… such a form that his suit can’t hide—almost as if a tease. And as the command of that sigil was clearly into view, the demon was more keen on those round slabs of sensuous pecs that just called onto him. It was practically the first thing anyone sees, really… and it was with those hefty man breasts that the demon knew he would want his plan to begin.

“…um…” Liam hummed though the voice was still audible enough, eyes narrowing in a twitch feigned with caution. “I was merely borrowing the trinket…” he nodded on as he tried to slip the jewel into his pocket—an act enough to make his own muscles ripple through his shirt. “…can’t you let me slip just this once?”

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“Yeah no, it’s just that I’m really the worst kept secret in the construction industry is all. I’m surprised you weren’t out to see me like three months ago when that building collapsed in on itself?” Dave was currently holding a hook in one hand that turned his arms to metal (and parts of his chest but you couldn’t see that) and was railing on a steel beam that was sticking out of place like a sore thumb. 

“Of course, we only found that out after. We were actually lucky that the building had gone down during that Superman fight. Lot of people would’ve been hurt otherwise,” Dave mused to Clark as he worked.

Stiles wasn’t always the most popular in the superhero community, well mostly because he wasn’t really a superhero at all. Some would say vigilante, anti-hero and quite a lot would just call him a criminal. He did the jobs nobody else could or would, putting people down who needed to be put down and while the rest of the world might judge him for it Stiles wasn’t looking for their approval. He’d seen first hand what happened when you tried to take the moral high ground with people like this and he wasn’t about to let that mistake happen again. But the more his work got results, the bigger the target he became not just for the criminals he put a stop and an end to but the superheroes who saw him as a threat, a danger and need to be held accountable for what he had done. He’d known for a while they’d send someone once they tracked him down but he was rather flattered in just what a big deal they’d sent to try and deal with him and take him in.

“Feeling comfortable back there Cap?” Stiles called over his shoulder, eyes on the large monitor as he typed away and finished decryption the information he’d need for his next target. Turning around in his swivel chair, an amused twitch of a smile on his lips and eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of Captain America himself, suit and everything, on his back on a large metal like table with his hands before his head and chained, along with his legs and a sophisticated looking collar around his throat with some kind of glowing gems tracing the material - his own invention and specially designed to repress those physical improvements the Captain had gained from the serum; he might look as powerful as ever but with that collar on he was as weak as a kitten. “I’m kind of amazed how easy it was to capture you, the great Captain America himself...” He trailed off as he moved from his chair and to stand next to the bound and helpless hero. His fingers tracing over his suit covered body slowly, head tilted a little bit as he admired. “This is a good look for you Cap, maybe you should flex a little for me and really show off.”

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“That was pretty cool,” Puck noted as he watched the guy in red and black spandex do a perfect three point blackflip down onto the concrete. He sipped at his Slurpee, making sure not a drop got on his tank top which was very well fitting. “Once you’re done with the asshole in black, going my way?”