#Like right as GUN arrests him to put him in the helicopter he tries this first

[fluffyk97]

Sonic at the start of Adventure 2

[bexorok]

Poorly written Sonic movie 3 pitch/outline pt. 3

Sonic is arrested, plot points introduced, introduction to Shadow, I am very tired, enjoy.

Exterior: Station Square

The Cyclone can be seen flying over the city. The sun has almost completely set at this point. Team Sonic finds the government building from the news and lands nearby. G.U.N agents are conversed around the building. Sonic and co. approach them.

Tails: excuse me? Sorry to intrude, but we wanted to know if you had any information on the break-in. We’ve worked together to take down eggman before, and we need to know if this could have been his doing.

The GUN agents look surprised to see them.

Agent 1: Sonic?

Sonic: Yeah, that's me. Don’t get too starstruck now.

Agent 2: Put your hands behind your back.

Sonic: Sorry, what?

Agent 2: You’re under arrest for suspicion of government conspiracy and robbery.

The three’s eyes widen in shock.

Tails: Hold on! We just got here! Why do you have the authority to arrest him?

Agent 1: Because we have video evidence that Sonic is the one who broke into this building.

Knuckles: That is preposterous! Sonic has been with us all day! Us and his family can attest to that.

Agent 2: Sorry kid, but we got orders to arrest Sonic as soon as possible. Luckily you guys saved us the trouble of finding him.

Knuckles: Outrageous!

Tails: Wait, you can’t do this!

Sonic: Yeah! I’m on your side!

Agent 1: GUN was formed to protect humanity against extraterrestrials like you. You are most certainly not on our side.

Sonic does as he’s told, in a state of shock. He is handcuffed and escorted to a nearby helicopter.

Tails: Sonic! What do we do?

Sonic: I don’t know! But call Tom before he finds out from these guys!

He is loaded onto the helicopter, the agents getting on with him. The helicopter takes off.

Tails: this can’t be happening.

Knuckles: No, fox, it most certainly can’t. Sonic is not skilled enough to break into anything undetected.

Tails: that's besides the point.

He looks down and takes out his phone, dialing Tom on facetime.

We cut to the Wachowski household. Tom and Randal are putting away chairs while the girls throw away any trash that's around. Tom’s phone suddenly goes off, and he puts down the chair he’s holding to answer.

Tom: Hey buddy, is everything going okay?

Tails: (laughing nervously) About that. I don’t know how to tell you this, but we got to Station Square… and… um..-

Knuckles: Tom! Sonic has been arrested!

Tom: What?! What do you mean he’s been arrested?

Tails: We landed and there were GUN agents everywhere! When we tried to talk to them they said that Sonic was under arrest for conspiracy and said they had evidence that he’s the one behind the break in!

Tom: That's impossible!

Knuckles: That is what we tried telling them, but they took him anyway! They put him on a flying machine and took off!

Tom: Okay, okay, you guys just stay right there. If anyone, and I mean anyone tries taking you guys in too, plead the 5th and say that I’m on my way to sort this all out.

Knuckles: Hurry, father. We have no time to waste.

Tom hangs up the phone, and runs to Maddie.

Maddie: Done with chairs already?

Tom: Sonic’s been arrested!

Maddie: Excuse me, what?

Tom: I don’t know what the heck is going on. Tails just said they have video or something and they think he’s the one that broke into that building.

Maddie: This doesn’t make any sense, he’s been with us all day!

Tom: I know. I’m going to go over there and try to sort this all out. There’s gotta be some sort of misunderstanding. You stay here. Knuckles would freak out if we left the emerald with no one keeping an eye on it.

Maddie: Alright, I’ll let Rachel know. You better be careful, babe.

Tom: Don’t worry, I’ll bring our boys home.

He runs off to his car, Rachel looking from the driveway where the trash cans are placed.

Maddie: (sighs) Here we go.

She walks over to her before the camera cuts away.

Exterior: Station square

We see the helicopter that took Sonic flying overhead. Inside, Sonic is sat between two agents.

Sonic: There’s gotta be some kind of mistake. I’m an honest Hedgehog, really!

Pilot over the intercom: We currently have the suspect. We are heading to headquarters now.

Sonic: You guys won’t even listen to what I have to say?

The agents are all completely silent.

Sonic: I’ll take that as a no.

He looks around the helicopter, seeing a large piece of metal by the door. He smirks as he thinks of a plan.

Sonic: I guess I don’t have a choice. If you guys won’t listen to reason, I’ll just have to get out my own way.

A brief fight scene ensues as Sonic breaks from the guards hold, gets out of his handcuffs, grabs the piece of metal, and opens the door. He falls with the metal under his feet, and we see a shot of him falling toward the ground. He lands and slides on the metal going down hill, sparks flying as he picks up speed. After a moment he ditches the makeshift board and starts running. A chase scene ensues as GUN bots chase after him, while a rendition of city escape plays.

Exterior: central station

It’s now dark outside. Tom pulls up in his truck and quickly gets out, running to Knuckles and Tails.

Tom: are you boys alright?

Tails: we’re okay, but we don’t know where they took Sonic.

Knuckles: the cowards fled without so much as a word to us.

Tom: That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they make an arrest without questioning you guys?

Tails: I don’t know! This wasn’t in any of those cop movies that Sonic showed me.

Tom: usually people are questioned so they can get the full story. Of course in green hills the most intense interrogation we had was with a kindergartener who stole a pencil. I have no idea why we were even there, the teacher was just really bored.

Tails: that means they must be pretty sure of what happened.

Tom: this must be some sort of misunderstanding. Let’s go find the agents and get this all sorted out.

A sudden blur of blue comes rushing in, and Sonic slides to a stop in front of them.

Sonic: Tom! You're here! You’ve gotta help me, I’m innocent I tell ya!

Tom: hey, relax bud. If they let you go then they probably know that this was just a big mistake.

Sonic: well, they didn’t technically let me go.

Tom takes a deep breath.

Tom: what do you mean they didn’t technically let you go?

Sonic: I mean they wouldn’t listen to anything I was saying! So I kind of, you know, broke out of the helicopter and led them on a police chase through the city.

Tom: oh, great, once again we’re fugitives of the law.

Knuckles: it appears so.

Tails: Tom, you’re a cop, can’t you say something to them?

Tom: Yeah, a small town cop who’s biggest achievement is that I caught a goose that was terrorizing the park! And I’ve already been wanted federally and have punched multiple government agents. I don’t even know how I kept my job. I have absolutely no say in any choice they make.

Sonic looks worried as he paces quickly.

Tom: Let's not panic. We’ll just have to lay low for a while.

A beeping noise emits from Tails gadget in hand. On the screen is a radar with a glowing red dot.

Tails: Um, Tom? My reader is picking up something coming towards us.

The red dot on the radar gets closer and closer.

Tom: Something big?

Tails: No. Something powerful.

The dot suddenly stops. Everyone looks at each other, then they look up to the roof of a building. Standing on top is a silhouette Shadow, holding a green, glowing gem. An instrumental rendition of “I am All of Me” plays.

Sonic: Who the heck is that?

Tom: Sonic, you don’t have any brothers or relatives, right?

Sonic: None that I know of.

Tom: Well, they definitely look like you.

Shadow leaps of the building, running down the side and stopping across from them. His full figure is now visible in the light.

Sonic: He's fast like me too!

Knuckles: I see little resemblance.

Tails: it kind of looks like him, if he dyed his hair and slicked his quills up.

Shadow stares at them, holding the chaos emerald up.

Tom: Isn’t that one of the emeralds?

Tails: It is!

Shadow smirks at them.

Shadow: It all starts with this. A jewel containing the ultimate power.

Sonic: Hey, uh, stranger. You wouldn’t happen to be working with a mad scientist with a huge mustache, would you?

Shadow continues staring at them.

Sonic: Hello? Can you hear me?

Shadow scoffs in annoyance.

Knuckles: I believe he’s ignoring you.

Sonic: Say something!

Sonic starts running towards him as Tom tries to stop him.

We cut to a slow motion scene where Sonic jumps into a spindash. As he does this, a glow of green can be seen in front of him. In a flash of light, Shadow disappears just as sonic reaches the spot he was standing. The slow motion ends and Sonic stumbles in surprise.

Sonic: Wha- where?

They all look around, then turn to look at the building behind them. Shadow is standing at the top.

Knuckles: Impressive speed.

Tom: There’s no way Sonic couldn’t catch up to him! What was that?

Tails: I don’t think that was speed. I think he somehow used the emerald to teleport!

Shadow: Unfortunately, I don’t have time for games. My master awaits.

Again, he holds up the emerald.

This time, Sonic runs at him before he commands the emerald to teleport him, going into a spin dash before knocking the emerald out of his hand.

Shadow grunts before gaining his composure. As Sonic starts running to the emerald, he is surprised when the loud sound of Shadows shoes picks up. Hesitating to turn around, Shadow swiftly speeds past him.

When he grabs the emerald, Knuckles has already climbed up to where they’re at. He tries punching the emerald out of his grasp, but Shadow is able to teleport behind him. A fight scene ensues, with Tails joining, attempting to hit him with a laser gun. When all efforts fail, they return to the ground.

Knuckles: He is a much more formidable opponent than the last hedgehog I faced.

Sonic: You mean me?

Knuckles: Yes.

The camera cuts back to Shadow, still on top of the building. Eggman's theme starts playing as the egg mobile comes into frame. Robotnik and Stone are both sitting inside.

Robotnik laughs: guess who’s back? And I see you’ve already met my new bestie, AKA the ultimate lifeform. Shadow, this is my arch nemesis, my ex bestie, and the little cub they keep around. Oh, and how could I forget, the pastry king himself!

Team Sonic all looks confused for a moment.

Sonic: eggman? You look.. um… different?

Knuckles: your current state is almost unrecognizable.

Robotnik groans in annoyance: Oh please, you try staying underground without so much as a treadmill to keep up your physique and see how it affects your body!

Tom nods in some semblance of understanding.

Stone: don’t listen to them, doctor, you're just as magnificent now as you were when I first saw you.

Robotnik again groans: thank you, Stone, but I already know that!

Sonic: (directed at Shadow) So, you are working for professor mustache. I don’t know what he’s told you, but he’s lying.

Knuckles: it is true! He took advantage of my alliship and used me! Do not be deceived!

Robotnik: oh, but I’ve only told him the truth! Crossed my heart, hoped to die, yada yada.

Shadow: master, we have no time for these foolish games.

Robotnik looks frustrated, but notices the sound of sirens approaching.

Robotnik: as much as it pains me, you're right. I would love to destroy you all right here and now, but my plans are much bigger than your pathetic little lives.

Shadow holds the chaos emerald to the sky, and the green glow emanates again.

Robotnik: latter suckers!

His laughter can be heard echoing as they are teleported away, leaving team Sonic alone in the middle of the street.

Just as they let their guard down, GUN vehicles turn the corner and surround them.

Sonic: not again!

Tails: guys, I don’t know if we can fight our way out of this one!

Knuckles: we are at a disadvantage. If they launch a counterattack Tom will not be able to defend himself.

Tom: Sorry, I guess I left my bulletproof vest at home.

GUN soldier through a megaphone: hand over the fugitive, or we will use force to capture him.

Tom: Sonic, you should run.

Sonic: Tom, no. I’m not just going to run away and let you get hurt.

Knuckles: So we fight!

Sonic: No. Not this time.

Sonic puts his hands up and slowly walks towards them.

Tails: Sonic, wait!

GUN soldier: do not move, fox! You three will not be taken in, but only if you willingly allow Sonic to come to us.

Tails frowns, but steps back.

Sonic: It's alright, buddy. I’m going to be just fine. Besides, I’m sure you're not going to just sit around at home without itching for a prison break.

He winks at him, then walks the rest of the way to the soldiers. They order him to put his hands behind his back, this time using multiple pairs of handcuffs. For good measure, they put him in a glowing blue box and hall him into the back of a van.

He looks at Tom one last time before the doors shut and the truck. The truck drives away, and one soldier approaches Tom.

Tom: Do you mind telling me what is going on here? Sonic has been with me the entire day, there’s no possible way he could have done this!

GUN Soldier: I suppose there's some explaining that needs to be done.

The soldier removes his helmet, and is revealed to be Officer Walters.

Tom: You again? How many times are you going to take in Sonic before you realize he's not a threat.

Walters: Oh, we’re perfectly aware of that.

Tom: What? Then what is the point of all this?

Walters: The public has already been made aware of Sonic and his little friends fiascos. If word got out that even more aliens have infiltrated earth, there would be mass panic. We can’t keep the security footage away from the press without raising questions, so the best course of action agreed upon was to arrest Sonic so the public can have peace of mind.

Tom: That’s insane! You already know Sonic is innocent and you’re taking him in anyway, all because you're too afraid to admit that there’s more than one alien hedgehog?

Walters: Try to understand where we’re coming from. You should be glad that we’re not taking in the rest of you. As long as you stay quiet, we assure you Sonic’s wellbeing, as well as the rest of your family.

Tails: But what about Shadow?

Walters' eyes grow wide.

Walters: What did you just say?

Tails: Sha-

Tails hesitates. The look on Walter’s face tells him that they already know too much.

Tails: I mean, the other hedgehog we saw had black fur, so Sonic nicknamed him Shadow.

Walters appears to relax.

Walters: Well, we assure you that we’re already investigating that. Once we find the real culprit, Sonic can go home. He’ll have to stay hidden, of course, the public needs to think that he's still in prison.

Knuckles: Sonic has already spent 10 years hiding! He is finally free to interact with everyone, make new friends and allies, and you are just going to take that away from him?

Walters: This is the only way. Trust me on that.

Tom: So, what now? We just go home and wait for you all to get off your lazy a-

Tails cuts him off.

Tails: Please, just find that other hedgehog.

Walters glares at Tails.

Walters: We will. Now, you all just run along now, there's no need to make a scene.

Tom: Says the general who brought out swat vans to arrest an alien.

Walters gives them one last glare before returning to his van. He gets in the passenger's side and drives off.

Tails: He’s hiding something. Did you see his face when I said “Shadow”?

Knuckles: Very suspicious indeed. Perhaps they know more than they let on.

Tails: Something tells me Shadow is more than just some random alien. But why would they know about him already?

Tom: Look, either way, we should get home.

Tails: That's it? We can’t just let them do this!

Tom: I know, Tails, but right now we can’t do anything. We should make a game plan when we get home.

Tails looks disappointed, but he can’t argue.

Tails: We’ll meet you there. Or do you want a ride in the Cyclone?

Tom: Tempting, but I’ve already lost pretty much every car I’ve owned in the last 2 years, I don’t want to lose another one.

Knuckles: Make haste, Tom.

Tom: Will do.

He runs to his car while Tails and Knuckles get in the Cyclone. They take off just as Tom starts up the car. We get a zoom out of station square as the main theme plays.

[companionjones]

What’s In A Name?

Fandom: Kingsman (Movies)

Pairings: Merlin x Reader, BestFriend!Eggsy x Reader

Summary: After a more than troubled past, you work as a free agent, helping good people whenever you can. In your travels, you come across members of a secret service called Kingsman. You help them, but do not trust them. Will anyone be able to change your mind?

Warnings: Canon level cursing and perhaps above canon level violence (it may get dark), torture

Author’s Note: This takes place in a timeline where Harry, Merlin, and Roxie are all alive. Harry is King Arthur, Eggsy is Galahad, and Roxie is Lancelot. Roxie only gets a mention in this one, but I still wanted to bring her back. I hate that she died in the movies. Also, spoiler alert but it has to do with gender identity, Reader eventually gets the codename Morgana. It is traditionally a feminine name, but Roxy does get the codename Lancelot in the movies, so I figured anyone with any gender identity can get any codename.

Please take some time to sign some BLM petitions! Please remember not to give any money to change.org because the money would go to the website, not the cause.

*******

    “Identify yourself immediately, or else your chopper will be gunned down.” The hard Scottish voice threatened you for the fifth time since you had entered the air space of a mansion in a helicopter you had stolen.

    You rolled your eyes. “Calm down. I found a friend of yours. He’s not doing too hot. I’m returning him to you. I’m not looking for a fight.”

    The young man next to you slouched forward to press the button to speak. “I’m here, Merlin. I’ll vouch for them.”

    The mystery voice, apparently named Merlin, went quiet.

    When you landed on the mansion, a med team carried away the extremely injured man you had picked up. When you got out of the helicopter, however, several military-grade weapons were aimed at your head. You put your hands up in surrender, and tried to bite back a smile. You were already planning your strategy to fight your way out of there.

    “Don’t shoot!” a barely-conscious voice called out. It was the man you had rescued. “Let them go. They saved my life.”

    Maybe you wouldn’t have to fight your way out.

    “And why should we trust that you won’t come back?” That was the same voice from before. Merlin.

    You turned around to find a tell, bald man with glasses. You answered his query by shrugging, “Cause I won’t. And you don’t have to worry about that human trafficking ring. I don’t know if you heard, but it’s all over the news. All of the victims have been sent home with a healthy pension, and every guilty party from the bottom to the top has been arrested by the proper authorities. I have a feeling they’ll stay in prison this time since all of their bank accounts have mysteriously emptied. I do wonder where all that money went.”

    The bald man stared you down for a moment. “I’ve spent the last ten minutes trying to find information on you. It wasn’t much time, but I’m good at my job. If there was anything to find, I would’ve found it. I didn’t find anything. Why is that?”

    “What? Like I’m gonna tell you?” you smiled after a moment. “Look, you’re gonna have to trust me. I’m guessing this is a secret service of some sort, right? Well, my personal opinion on organizations like this isn’t very high. I won’t be coming back. Just let me get back in the helicopter. I’ll fly away, and you’ll never see me again.”

    Merlin took a moment to survey you, then stated, “That better be true. Stand down, agents,” Merlin ordered his people.

    “Thank you!” Your smile grew as you turned back to the stolen aircraft. “See you never!” You took your place in the pilot’s seat, and flashed Merlin one more grin before you took off.

    In the months following your first interaction with the secret service, you ran into it’s members several more times. The agent you developed the most rapport with was the young man you had saved. You were supposed to know him as Galahad, but he had let it slip to you a few times that his real name was Eggsy. You also guessed that wasn’t his real real name. It was just a nickname he preferred to be called. But in all honesty, you didn’t care if you knew his real name, Eggsy was good enough for you.

    Despite the life-threatening conditions the two of you met under, you and Eggsy would end up telling each other about the most normal aspects of your lives. Eggsy mentioned his mom and sister a few times, but he mainly talked about his family at Kingsman, as he eventually named the agency. The leader of the service went by the codename King Arthur. Eggsy looked at Arthur as a father figure, you noticed. Eggsy had a bestfriend there, too. Her codename was Lancelot. She and Eggsy had joined Kingsman at the same time.

    Then, there was Merlin. You would never admit it to Eggsy; hell, you wouldn’t even admit it to yourself, but you liked most to hear about Kingsman’s tech expert. You had been told that Merlin was a very serious man. You could’ve guessed that much. Contrastingly, Eggsy seemed to be part of the select few that Merlin showed his more human side. Eggsy was very proud whenever he was able to get Merlin to crack a smile at one of his jokes, and you could tell that by how often Eggsy brought up those few instances. You laughed when Eggsy jokingly cursed out the voice in his ear, because Merlin was trying to get him to focus on the task at hand.

    In spite of the fact that Eggsy let his own name slip so easily, he made a conscious effort to make sure you would only know his friends by their codenames. You respected that. You also found it funny when you came to realize that even Eggsy didn’t seem to know Merlin’s real name. Eggsy tried to hide it, but you had been doing what you were good at long enough that you could read people too well.

    Speaking of yourself, compared to Eggsy, you talked about your life a lot less. That was on purpose. The most personal you ever got was talking about your interests, like your favorite movies and TV shows. You actually had a couple in common with Eggsy.

    You wondered if you had any in common with Merlin. It wasn’t like you could speak with him, but you knew he was always on Eggsy’s comms. You made a point to say hi to Merlin whenever you ran into the younger Kingsman agent. You wondered how much Merlin really listened to your conversations with Eggsy, and when you weren’t thinking about that, you were berating yourself for thinking so much about some random man you had met once on a mansion’s rooftop.

    Did Merlin have favorite TV shows too? What was his real name? Was he thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him?

    All those thoughts were running through your mind as you snuck up on a gunfight. You usually avoided those types of situations, but as you were passing by, you saw that Eggsy was caught in the middle of it all. Once you got involved, the fight didn’t last much longer. You only worked with your hands. You knocked some people out, and cut off the air supply for others long enough that they would be unconscious for a long enough while for you and Eggsy to get away.

    “Come on.” You offered a hand to Eggsy. “I called the police. These guys’ll be out ‘til they get they get here, but we should still probably go.”

    Once he saw you, Eggsy took a few breaths to process what had just happened. “...That was ruddy awesome! I haven’t seen violence that impressive since Arthur took down a whole church full of people! I gotta ask though, why didn’t you use a gun? I know you have...several.”

    “I don’t like killing people,” you simply responded, turning to lead the Kingsman agent away from the scene.

    “Well, that’s always good...but sometimes it’s just easier, y’know? And these guys are bad people anyway--”

    Abruptly, you stopped and turned around to repeat. “I just don’t like killing people.” You saw that you had clearly taken him off guard, and you sighed and turned back around to continue your trek. “I’ve done enough harm in my life.”

    There was a bit of silence after that. Before he started following you, Eggsy griped, “Well, what the fuck is that supposed to me--”

    A gunshot rang through the air.

    You had turned back around when Eggsy started talking again. At first you had been annoyed at Eggsy, but then you saw that one of the people you thought Eggsy had gunned down was still alive by a small margin. He had aimed his gun at your friend. You had pushed Eggsy out of the way. Seconds later, Eggsy had shot your gunman directly through the head, and blood was spilling from your stomach.

    “Fuck!” Eggsy caught you when your legs gave out. “Hey, hey! Don’t die! Don’t die because of me. Please!”

    The last thing you heard before you lost consciousness was Eggsy’s voice. “Calm down, Merlin! You know where we are, right?” He addressed you, “They’ll be here in ten minutes, okay?” Eggsy looked away from you again, presumably talking to Merlin. “Of course I’m keeping pressure on it. This jacket is bright red now. Just tell them to hurry.”

    You smiled when you thought of Merlin.

    When your eyes opened again, the light was so bright you thought you were somewhere you shouldn’t have been. Turns out you weren’t in heaven, but you were still some place you should not have been.

    “Hello there,” an older man greeted you with a warm smile. He looked to be about the same age as Merlin, and his suit looked a lot like Eggsy’s.

    Suddenly, you realized you were inside Kingsman’s home base. “What the fuck.”

    “You have a fantastic first impression,” the man complimented with good-natured humor shining in his eyes.

    “I need to leave,” you stated, and tried to sit up in the hospital bed in which they had you.

    The man quirked an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to leave? You were injured badly protecting one of my men. Thank you for that, by the way.”

    “You’re King Arthur,” you realized.

    He nodded. “That is my codename, yes. But I believe your character is one I would be comfortable with sharing my real name. Harry Hart. It’s the name I prefer, anyway.”

    “Harry Hart. It’s nice to finally meet you. Eggsy talks about you a lot.” It did make you pause to be trusted so easily by someone. It was something you weren’t used to at all. You shook your head clear, however. “I have to leave, though. It’s not that bad anyway.”

    “Oh, yes it is.” That wasn’t Harry. Merlin had entered the room. He locked eyes with you. “You broke your promise.”

    “Literally none of this is my fault,” you protested dryly.

    Merlin raised his brow. “Is that right? Because that was a Kingsman mission--not a random person off the street mission.”

    You rolled your eyes, and let your head fall back on the pillow.

    “I’m going to take my leave, and let the two of you have the room.” You almost missed the look Harry gave Merlin before Harry left.

    As if it was nothing, Merlin walked over to your IV machine to check your vitals. “Are you okay?” he quietly asked.

    “I’m fine,” you stated.

    “I am serious, you know. You really shouldn’t have done that. Galahad had the mission under control.”

    You sighed, “If I didn’t show up, Eggsy could’ve ended up where I am, or worse. And he lets me call him Eggsy.”

    “I am aware.” Merlin was reading over a tablet he had in his hands.

    Your face lit up. “I knew you were listening in on us!”

    Although it was quick, Merlin spared you a sideways glance. He changed the subject. “The bullet tore through your large and small intestine alike, but you’ll live. However, you’re confined to that bed for the next month and a half.”

    “Goddammit.” You fell back onto your pillow again. “I’m going to kill Eggsy.”

    Merlin sighed, “I say spare the boy. You should see him. He blames himself for everything. Even cried during the surgery, of which I did not approve.”

    “He watched my surgery?” you asked, a little distracted. Your gaze had fallen to Merlin’s tablet, and you were decoding the effects of your injury.

    “We both did.”

    Your eyes snapped back up to Merlin’s, though he wasn’t watching you then. He swallowed, almost like he found his next words difficult to say. “It took hours. There were many close calls.” Merlin turned to leave, then. Your wishful thinking told you he might have been preventing himself from showing any more emotion.

    Fear spilled through you when he reached the door. You were reminded precisely where you were. “Merlin, wait!” You sounded a bit more afraid than you wanted.

    When Merlin turned around, concern in his eyes.

    “Um...Listen, I-I know we barely know each other, but you and Eggsy are the only two people I know here. I just...I know it sounds childish, but, um--”

    “I’ll stay with you.” Merlin left the door, and pulled up a chair beside your bed.

    His kindness took you off guard. It took you a moment to breathe out, “Thank you.”

    “So, do you want to tell me your name?” Merlin then asked a little too nonchalant.

    It caused a smile to peak out on your lips. “Need help finding info on me? I thought you were good at your job.”

    The Kingsman agent stabbed back. “I would be kinder to the man who controls your morphine.”

    Merlin stayed with you the entirety of that night. The next day, Eggsy came back from a mission he’d been on, and he was ecstatic to find you awake. After you assured him that your bullet wound wasn’t his fault and that you were okay, he barely left your side for a week. When Harry and Merlin finally forced him to go out on another mission, Merlin was back at your bedside. That became the norm. Merlin did most of his work in your room, and on the rare occasion the tech expert was otherwise busy, you had Eggsy to keep you company.

    On one such day, Eggsy and you were enjoying your favorite sit-com. You were nearing the end of your month and a half of healing. If you were being honest with yourself, you could’ve left by then if you really wanted. The thing was, you didn’t want to leave. You looked over to Eggsy, who was still watching TV, and realized that you felt like you had a family at Kingsman. You had gotten closer to Harry and Roxy (she’d told you her name) during your month and a half. Merlin, too. You were practically attached at the hip to the tech expert, and you weren’t complaining at all.

    Speaking of your favorite Kingsman agent, he entered the room then. He wore a more serious look than usual, which was saying something.

    It didn’t bother you though. “Hey, you,” you smiled.

    Eggsy was smiling, too, and he was about to greet Merlin as well.

    Before he could, however, Merlin ordered, “Galahad, give us the room.”

    The younger agent was confused, but he did as he was told.

    “Jeez, if you wanted to be alone with me, you could’ve been a little nicer--” you were teasing, but you were interrupted.

    “Y/n L/n.”

    Two words. They were all it took to make your blood run cold. It was suddenly taking all the power in you not to start crying on the spot. “...How do you know my name?”

    “I’m good at my job.” Words that used to be almost an inside joke between you and Merlin were suddenly stabbing you in the heart. “How many organizations have you worked for? CIA, Mossad, I get an alert for another one almost every hour. All of them are looking for you.”

    “What did you do?” Your own voice didn’t even sound like you anymore.

    Merlin raised his eyebrows. “You’re seriously asking me that right now? What did you do, Y/n?!”

    “Don’t call me that! Dammit, did you call someone, Merlin?” You started undoing your IV and sitting up in bed.

    He called after you as you exited the room, “Oh, so you can call me by my name?”

    “It’s not your real name!” you shouted back.

    In hindsight, you should’ve realized Merlin not stopping you from leaving was a warning sign. MI6 was waiting for you outside the Kingsman mansion.

    “No!” you screamed, but they surprised you from behind as well. “No! Let me go! Please! Let me go, please!”

    As you were being dragged away, you saw Merlin at the door of the mansion, watching you go. He seemed taken off guard at seeing you so scared.

    But you couldn’t think about that then. You were too busy kicking and screaming and trying to get away from the type of people you hated most in the world.

    MI6 was the fifth organization you were ever involved with. That was back when you still thought governments had the people’s best interests at heart.

    Over the years, however, you learned that you couldn’t have been more wrong. No matter what country you moved to and no matter what excuses they had for what they asked you to do, you always found eventually that they were only interested in power and winning an imaginary game they had all convinced each other they were playing.

    You played that game for years before you realized there was no winner. To those people, it didn’t matter whose side you sued to work for. It only mattered who’s bidding you were doing in the present. And you did so many unspeakable things for them. Your deeds were what got to your conscience first. After that, you realized it didn’t matter who was giving you orders. All it would always result in were more dead bodies and more money being given to the rich.

    And you were back under the roof of one of the institutions you despised so much.

    The agents that took you injected something in you to knock you out, and you woke up in a white room that was all too familiar. Each of the groups you hated had one. In that room, you knew that you would be brainwashed and tortured over the next few weeks until you were ready to comply.

    You were right. You didn’t know how much time had passed, you were never sure in those rooms, all you knew was you were in so much psychological pain that you couldn’t move from the corner of that white room you hated so much.

    The door opened. You couldn’t look at it. You couldn’t even speak. All you could think was that you wanted it all to end. You didn’t care how.

    “Y/n?”

    You flinched at your name. Your first thought was that you had gone mad. You shut your eyes tight and hoped he would go away.

    “Y/n...it’s me.”

    Please, just go away.

    You heard his footsteps across the floor, then Merlin kneeled down in front of you.

    “My god. What have they done to you?”

    You had your head turned to the side. Gently, Merlin tried to turn your face toward his. You fought it.

    “I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t know. Having finally learned who you are, I was able to dig deeper. I know what happened. They all tried to hide it, but it’s all there. I should’ve seen the red flags when they were trying so hard to find you while keeping the search secret. I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

    “Don’t call me that.” Even in your confused state, that name reminded you of every single bad thing you’d ever done. Your voice sounded so broken, not even you recognized it. You doubted Merlin recognized it either.

    His head dipped down as he sighed. Then, so low that you barely heard it, “Hamish Mycroft.”

    Still, you didn’t look at him, but your brow furrowed.

    Merlin continued, “That’s my real name. Hamish Mycroft. The only Kingsman agent I’ve ever told is Harry. I haven’t told anyone else in four decades.” He gingerly put his hand on one of the knees you had curled up to your chest. “But, I’m telling you because I trust you. I...I love you. I have for weeks now, I just wasn’t man enough to admit it to myself.”

    Somehow, his confession broke through your haze. You finally looked at him.

    Sadness and surprise were written all over his face. Hamish informed you, “I’m here to get you out of here, okay? Roxy and Eggsy are taking care of anyone who knows the location of the mansion. You can be safe there.”

    “Safe?” you whispered, wondering if the notion was even possible.

    Hamish nodded. “You never have to go out into the field again. If you want to, you could work with me. This is the first time I’ve been out in the field in twelve years.”

    “You came back into the field for me?” It was nice for you to hear that you could form full sentences again, even if tears were still falling.

    One of the corner of his lips twitched upward. “Of course I did. I figure you have to be pretty good with the tech side of things to get along by yourself for this long.”

    A laugh slipped through your lips. “Yeah, I’m pretty good.” You observed him for a moment. “Hamish Mycroft.” You said his name for the first time. “I like it.”

    He smiled, “I like your name, too, just so you know. I hope one day you’re able to use it again. But, until then, I was thinking Morgana.”

    “Morgana?”

    “Your Kingsman codename, if you choose to accept it.”

    You thought for a moment. “If I work for you guys, I don’t have to hurt people anymore?”

    “Never again, if you don’t want to.”

    Another moment. “I want to be able to speak out against you guys, if I see something wrong.”

    He notified, “That comes with the job. We’ve had problems with our leaders acting without our okay in the past, but not since Harry’s been in charge. And with how well I know you, I know I’ll agree with anything you’ll have to say.”

    “...Promise?”

    Hamish nodded, “From now on, I’ve always got your back. You have my word. Now let’s get out of here, yeah?”

    You nodded in return. Another smile growing on your lips.

    Hamish helped you to your feet. Full of pride, he softly proclaimed, “Welcome to Kingsman, Morgana.”

    Then ginning, you replied, “Thank you, Hamish...my love.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate the comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more Kingsman fics over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[unusual-raccoon]

Guardian Angel by Unusual_Raccoon

Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Daredevil (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationships: Matt Murdock/Peter Parker, Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson

Characters: Peter Parker, Matt Murdock, May Parker (Spider-Man), Franklin "Foggy" Nelson

Additional Tags: Spider-Man: No Way Home (Movie), Fix-It, Pre-Relationship, Trauma, Protective Matt Murdock, Canonical Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word Count: 1k+

Summary: When Peter cried out for help, he never expected anyone to answer.

Link

He’s kneeling in rubble, each breath wheezed through broken ribs and bruised lungs. His chest is on fire and his face is swollen.

His hands are shaking and he’s holding May, his whole word in his hands. Bleeding, broken…dying.

He’s choking on sobs and thinks he’s ready to die right in the spot, curled around his aunt, his family.

He can hear the swoosh of propeller blades and knows there are helicopters above, filming the tragic comedy that is his life.

Peter begs for help, it’s a vain gesture, feeling the life leave May’s body, she’s gone cold in his arms, still blinking blearily up at him. See, people don’t want to help Peter Parker, because they don’t want to help Spider-Man - he’s a criminal, a murderer.

The sight of May’s face is so blurred through the haze of tears, the cling of agony in his eyes.

He can hear the screech of tires outside the blown open front of the building. He knows they’re coming, pouring through the gashes in the glass and steel with no intention of arresting him. He’s an unknown variable, he’s unstoppable. In that moment, he’s immovable, he’s rooted to the ground, his limbs are heavy.

His tingle is throbbing, he knows he’s in danger, can feel it in the air as it creeps closer. But he doesn’t fight it.

“Put your hands up!” Someone bellows and it’s hardly audible over the crackle of the fire and hiss of glass.

The sound of it shattering makes him flinch. Like a bone breaking. He doesn’t move, darkly dressed figures move closer.

A bullet punches through his shoulder and it makes his body jerk back, blood saturating the suit, it feels more red than anything else now.

Everything’s red.

More glass breaks.

“What the hell was that?” Another voice questions, Peter doesn’t have an answer. It could be anything, it could be nothing. Another villain returned to kill Spider-Man, maybe.

There’s a laser-sight quivering above his chest, the nanotech Doc Ock had given him had migrated to the wound on his shoulder. He’s vulnerable, exposed, holding his aunt’s limp body.

He thinks he’s going to get shot again, point blank this time. But it isn’t a bullet that splits the air, but something larger. It ricochets off the ground, and strikes the man holding a gun on him, straight in the jaw, like an uppercut. There’s a spray of red and teeth. Everything’s red.

There’s more shooting, but it’s not at him. Peter stares up from May’s body, blinking through the tears, trying to distinguish the motion cutting through the squad of soldiers that had been dispatched to bring him in.

It’s red.

For a moment, there’s silence, silence behind the crackle of fire and hiss of broken glass and shattered bones.

He blinks and a figure emerges from the glaze of red. The scent of ozone and haze of fire licks at his back, and Peter can’t tear his gaze from the powerful silhouette. Or his horns…

When Peter cried out for help, he never expected anyone to answer.

--

“I still can’t believe you caught it,” Foggy laments and Matt lifts his shoulders in a guilty shrug.

“What was I supposed to do?” Matt asks in return, bringing his beer to his lips. The damp napkin clings wet and translucent to the bottom of the bottle.

Foggy lets out an exasperated noise, scrubbing a hand over his face, “You’re supposed to be his lawyer Matt - not his guardian angel.”

Matt lets out a snort, tries to swallow the feeling, the responsibility he can’t rid himself of with a swig of beer. It’s cheap and it’s warm and everything he missed about Josie’s.

“Besides, there’s a video on youtube of him stopping a car with his bare hands. Pretty sure he could’ve handled it.”

Matt understands Foggy’s point, it’s hard to miss it. He’d done something reckless, something stupid, not as Daredevil, but as Matt Murdock - blind, Matt Murdock.

“Just because he can, doesn’t mean he should have to.” Matt argues back, he isn’t sure if it’s Peter’s age, his nearness, his humble beginnings before being swept under wings of the Avengers, that makes a part of Matt want to stick up for him. He was a kid, and the Avengers, for all they had given, had dropped him back into Queens where they had found him.

A gifted kid thrown into a war he’d never wanted to fight. Shit, Matt could practically hear Stick’s voice in his head then.

A distant cry prickles across his senses, it sharpens into clarity and Matt’s head tears in the direction of the sound.

“What is it? Matt?” Foggy asks in a panicked whisper.

“It’s Peter,  he - he needs help.” Matt explains flatly, fingers tingling until he curled his hands into fists.

His best friend, for all of his whining, knew him.

Foggy slaps a few bills onto the bar top. His heart is hammering hard when his hand lands on Matt’s shoulder.

“Matt,” Foggy exhales, his voice breaking, splintering beneath the pressure, “Go.”

--

“Peter,” A voice rasps, as the Devil sinks down in front of him, a king in his castle amidst the hell surrounding them.

It doesn’t feel real. May doesn’t feel real.

The Devil knows his name.

A firm hand seizes his bicep and Peter’s staring into the red lenses of the Devil’s eyes.

“You need to go.” The Devil says carefully, head twitching faintly to the left and a blood red hand tenderly sweeps over the swollen side of May’s cheek. His mouth pulls tight into a grimace.

“I-I can’t,” Peter croaks, his voice sounds so broken to his own ears, and the Devil’s permanent scowl nearly softens, “She’s my family, I can’t -”

Peter watches as the Devil reaches for the baton on the floor, it glistens wetly on one end, the end that broke a man’s jaw.

“I know,” The Devil says, voice tender, soothing, knowing. “I know,” He says again. There’s something in his voice that Peter can’t place, but it still rolls over his disarray, it’s order to his entropy.

“But you have to,” The Devil adds, and Peter hates the sound of the truth, his limbs feel heavier, like he’s weighing everything down, like the floor should open up to welcome him to hell properly.

“I’ll watch over her.” The Devil says finally. The words sound like they belong to an Angel instead of the Devil, and at that moment, Peter can’t tell the difference between them.

It all feels like a hallucination, wrung out of his pain and grief. But he drapes his aunt into the Devil’s arms with a sob.

He digs himself out of the rubble, running on pure adrenaline as he emerges from the building, from the haze of smoke and death.

Leaving his heart in the Devil’s hands.

--

Between the fabric of reality nearly splitting under the weight of his stupidity, Peter nearly forgets that night, buries the grief and the memory with his aunt.

He chalks it up to his broken mind craving anything, something, someone to make the agony a little more bearable.

Until he’s standing on a rooftop, the shimmer of powdery snow clinging to the shoulders of his suit.

A horned silhouette standing too close to the edge of a nearby rooftop. Something kickstarts in his chest, something he wants to tamp down, but can’t.

He swings over, feet impacting quietly against the snow.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Peter greets lamely, it feels alien, jarring, exhilarating like spotting someone from a dream. It doesn’t feel real, but it is.

The horned head tilts in his direction.

“I know,” The Devil says back.

Peter sees the blood red length of his baton holstered on the Devil’s thigh.

“You’re my…”

Guardian angel-

“-Neighbor.” The Devil supplies, his smile is disarmingly human when a red hand cuts through the powdery dusting of snow. Peter stares at it, remembers the strength of it curled around his arm. He slides his hand into the other man’s.

“Daredevil,” The other vigilante purrs and Peter holds the man’s hand a little tighter.

“Thanks,” Peter says, his face feeling hot beneath his mask.

“For what?” Daredevil asks in return, mouth curled coyly at the corner.

For being there, “For being here.”

His horned head bobs with a modest nod, but his smirk persists and Peter wants to cling to it with every he has.

“Anytime, Spider-Man.”

Relief and gratitude wash over him at the rasp of that haunting baritone, knowing it’s the truth.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Shield (one-shot)

Synopsis: To the new Captain America she might just be a human shield. But Bucky can see there’s more to it. What he can’t understand is why she stays.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, lil bit of fluff

Warnings: mentions of blood and guns, swearing, torture, low mental state etc.

Word count: 3591

I am going absolutely feral about the fact that a portion of the series takes place in Latvia as I am Latvian :D Just seeing the signs and streets (which are not really ours cause they filmed in Prague, but are similar enough I can envision it), especially because we’re such a small country is amazeballs, so to be in such a huge show with my MCU faves is insane. Had the same kind of reaction to Brooklyn Nine-Nine with Nikolaj and the Captain Latvia episode. Riga hammer for the win :D 

P.S. John Walker is not Captain America cause he does not posses America’s ass. Also Zemo is one hundred percent Bucky’s and Sam’s sugar daddy. I won’t accept any dispute over this.

P.S.S. please also remember - John Walker is a character not a real person. John Walker is played by an actor who is doing his job the same way the actor who played Joffrey did. Do not harass him etc. but rather appreciate the insane talent he has. This place is a Wyatt Russell stan place.

P.S.S.S. Kinda spoilers for the show so if you haven’t seen it, don’t read this.

He hated him. Bucky genuinely hates him. He never thought he had despised something or someone so much, not even HYDRA, as much as he hated John Walker – the new Captain America. He wanted to scream at that, at the fact that this arrogant asshole was carrying Steve’s shield, the symbol of freedom and everything good, while in reality, he embodied none of what it stood for.

           Walker and what he’d learned his sidekick was Battlestar, had swooped in from a helicopter while Sam and he had been following the Flag-Smasher vehicles, and, well, they hadn’t been a lot of help, which he shouldn’t be too surprised about. But what he had been surprised about was when they’d all been thrown off of the semi-trucks and scattered all around a field, someone else had been in the mix as well. 

A young woman with Y/H/C hair and determined Y/E/C eyes was rushing towards them, screaming for them to stay on the ground. When Bucky looked behind, he could see why given how one of the radicalised people had jumped from the trucks and was barreling at them with an automatic cocked at them

           But it wasn’t Walker who jumped up running past her, shield at the ready to take on the fire. No. He just remained sitting as the stranger kept her pace. She leapt at the two with a grace of a cat, pushing him and Sam back to the ground and immediately got blown back by the received ammunition, gasps leaving her mouth as the bullets entered her body.

           Sam’s wings extended and created a body length shield as Bucky snatched one of the knives strapped to the man’s side and flung it with deadly accuracy into the Flag-Smasher’s neck, dropping him to the ground. 

           There was blood when he looked back. There was so much blood, and once again it was all over Bucky’s hands, and he couldn’t breathe properly, pressing down on her abdomen and shoulder and side, and. oh god, there were too many bullet wounds...

           Two wide Y/E/C eyes stared back up at him, mouth gasping down shallow breaths as he held down on her wounds trying to stop the blood from pouring out. God, there was so much of it.

           “Don’t close your eyes,” he gritted, his body trembling. “Well get you help. You’ll be alright.”

           But then Walker spoke up, and Bucky saw read because of a different reason. “She’s fine, just leave it.”

           His head snapped to see that arrogant bastard cross his arms as he hissed. “Leave it? She’s fucking bleeding out! She took those bullets for you, and you just want to leave it?!”

           Walker just smirked, nudging his chin towards her body. “You’ll see.”

           “You let her use herself as a shield while you did nothing!”

           “Yeah,” he scoffed. “Because that’s her whole point.”

           And that’s when Bucky felt her skin shift underneath his hands. Slowly the blood stopped pouring out, Y/N’s breathing evened, and her eyes closed not because death was calling, but because of relief as the regenerative cells kicked into high gear.

           Bucky gazed in wonder as the wounds closed up, and when only scar tissue remained he snapped his blue eyes to her, Y/E/C ones already staring back at him.

           “Who are you?” he whispered

           “A human shield that’s what,” Walker answered in her stead, but Bucky just sneered.

           “I asked who, not a what. She’s a fucking person.”

           Once more he looked back down and saw a strange look in her eyes. It was as if she was trying to decipher what those words meant, but once the shock from such a huge assault had ended, she gulped down a breath and gave him a crooked smile. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

           A lopsided one came to grace his own face. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”

           “Bucky.” Her eyebrow rose. “Well, it’s very nice to finally meet you.”

           He smiled at her, and not the painful smile he’d given the senator before her arrest, but a real genuine smile, one that made the skin around his eyes crinkle. 

           “And it’s very nice you didn’t decide to die on us.”

           “Yeah, yeah, can we cut this meet and greet shorter?” Walker interrupted them, and if Bucky hadn’t been holding onto Y/N’s shoulder as she tried to rise from the ground, he would’ve punched the guy. 

           “I told you she was going to be fine.”

           Bucky threw him his best murder glare but stopped when he felt Y/N squeeze his hand as if saying ‘don’t bother.' His brows furrowed in confusion. She just shook her head.

           “We should still find you a hospital.” He talked to Y/N directly, ignoring what the new Captain was saying. “It doesn’t matter that you can survive something like that, I’d rather make sure you’re checked out by professionals.

           “It won’t be necessary.” Walker slipped the shield on his arm and nudged his partner to start walking with him, pretty much expecting the rest to follow. “It was her choice anyway to take the hits.”

           “It doesn’t mean she should!” Bucky pretty much hollered, startling even Sam.

           At that, he saw Y/N’s eyes widen and her head snap up to look at him. All the breath got knocked out from Bucky at the emotion in her face. It was like she didn’t believe what he was saying like she didn’t know it was a possibility to not put her own life before someone else’s, that maybe someone is supposed to do it for her, someone could protect her.

           “She absorbs fucking bullets and infuses them in her body.” John mocked. “I’d say it’s a win-win on both sides. Everyone else stays safe, and she gets stronger, right? The whole bleeding thing is a hitch in the system, but our guys say with enough scuffles that should stop as well.”

Walker looked at her. Y/N just gulped, staring back down at the ground between her knees. 

           When he looked back at everything the moment he’d seen Zemo in the cell and the asshole had said something still remained in him from the Winter Soldier, came back to connect with the scene. He’d hated that sentence because Bucky knew it was true. The Soldier would always be a part of him, but that was what therapy was for – to accept it and let go. But in that minute, he wouldn’t have cared one bit if the ruthless assassin came to the surface if it meant snapping Walker’s neck like a stick. 

           He treated the woman as if she was below him, as if Steve’s shield somehow made him better than her, better than anyone, and yet, even when he’d been given the privilege to carry it, he’d rather use a human person, no matter if they had powers, as a shield.

           A soft hand touched his side, and Bucky looked at Y/N, his breathing heavy at Walker’s words. 

           “I’m alright.” Her voice was softer than he thought it would be. Maybe it was because she was trying to stay out of John’s earshot, but even the gentle whisper made something in Bucky’s chest stir. “Thank you,” she said. “For checking up on me.”

           Bucky stiffly nodded, standing up and offering both his hands for her to take, but even with that, it took Sam holding her by the waist to be able to stand. The Falcon had to catch her, in fact, when she took her first steps, an awkward chuckle escaping her mouth. 

           “It’s been a while since a hit like this.”

           Sam quirked a brow and smirked. “You always have a tendency to do stupid shit like that?”

           Y/N’s whole body relaxed as he said so, and a sting went through Bucky’s own. How bad were they treating her if basic kindness and a little bit of joking made her feel so safe?

           Just as he was about to ask her more, to offer to take her with them, Walker spoke up again. That conversation was an absolute disaster, and the fact that Walker thought Sam and him would actually ever consider working with him on this mission was idiotic. 

           It ended with the two Avengers watching how Walker threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, making her knees buckle with the weight, her from still regaining strength, but he didn’t care, just dragged her along with him and Battlestar.

           “Are we just gonna let ‘em do that to her?” Bucky sneered, arms crossed watching their retreating forms over the field.

           He felt Sam glower next to him. “There’s not much we can do.”

           He hated that he was right.

           Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. One meeting had left him shaken to the core not just about her, but about how there was something deeply off with the new Captain America, that if they didn’t take action something horrible would happen, not just because of his arrogance, but because of some seed he could feel had rooted itself in the other man’s heart.

           But by that point they’d been in Madripoor, had met Sharon who’d been on the run from the US government ever since the dismantlement of the Avengers, and had now followed a lead to where the Flag-Smashers had settled in Latvia.

           Zemo seemed to not only have a billion cars, but a billion apartments scattered around the world, this one being in the heart of the Old Town. 

           Bucky was on the roof looking over the twinkling lights of the city. His bed had been too soft as it always was, and even the floor wasn’t it for him, not a wink of sleep coming his way as his thoughts were flooded by Y/N.

           Well, the sleep part wasn’t true. He had been able to drift off, only to dream of how the woman didn’t get better, didn’t absorb those bullets and had died right in his arms. That’s when he decided he needed a breath of fresh air.

           The sound of shuffling feet made him whip around from the scenic view only to be greeted by a form he’d now recognise in a full-on ski-suit in pitch-black darkness.

           “What are you doing here?” Bucky stood up wanting to stride over and check her for any wounds she might’ve gotten while around Walker. Any new scar on her body would mean the same number of teeth he’d knock from that Walmart-version-Captain-America’s mouth.

           “Came to warn you.” She shrugged, soft winds making her coat flutter. “John and Lemar are resting, but come morning they’ll be on your ass, so you might wanna make a move now.”

           Bucky shook his head. “I don’t get you. You’re nothing like them, I can see that you know how wrong it is, for him to be carrying that shield, that he’s making a mockery out of the name and legacy Steve built, and yet…”

           Y/N hung her head lifting her shoulders, hands in her pockets. “I gotta do what I gotta do.”

           “He’s an asshole,” Bucky hissed. 

           Y/N gave him a painful look. “I know. But I don’t have anywhere to go. Besides… you have your own way of making amends. Well, this is mine.”

           Dark brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

           She let out a painful chuckle, not because of the memories now plaguing her waking thoughts, but because her wounds were still healing, and instantly Bucky came closer and took her hand, running a soothing thumb over her palm. Wounds he was sure were new.

           Y/N froze at his touch, and Bucky was about to pull away when she put her own thumb over his. He had to bite back tears at how tenderly she was looking down at his palm. Like no one had ever comforted her when it hurt. 

           “When the Blip happened,” she started, voice low and quiet. “I watched how my sister and mom disappeared right in front of my eyes. We were driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, and there was a truck before us. It was carrying loads of metal scraps. The driver of the truck got blipped as well.” She swallowed harshly. “I can still feel how the beam went through my shoulder, how it broke the bone and skin, and how I just wanted to disappear like they had just to make the pain stop. But I didn’t. It hurt so bad.” Y/N looked at Bucky, tears running down her face. “It was burning and tearing, and so much pain… and all I could do was scream, but no one heard me because everyone else was screaming, and I was just one of the thousands doing it.”

           Y/N shook her head, and when Bucky leaned closer to wipe away the tears, she sighed at the feeling. “I passed out sometime later. From the pain the… well, everything. And when I woke up, I heard people outside the door, trying to rip it open, I could see red lights flashing, but where I expected that beam to be was nothing. When I looked down at myself there was a hole in my shirt, but instead of a hole in my shoulder, a round scar was the only thing left from that moment.”

           “They took me to the hospital, and when they tried to put an IV in, my body just swallowed up the needle.” She took a shaky breath, and Bucky squeezed her side. ‘Go on’ he tried to convey with the touch. ‘I’m here.’

           “That’s when the tests started. They were fine at first. Blood samples when they managed to get any, saliva and all that good jazz… but then they started poking. And poking turned into slicing which turned into stabbing until I was their personal pincushion, as they tried to see what my body would and wouldn’t take.”

           Y/N was shaking by that point, but not because of the wind that had picked up, but because of anger, of the horror, she’d had to go through. It took everything in Bucky to remain calm and let her continue.

           “Two years they did that. And then one time they went a bit too far. Someone had stolen a vibranium spear from the Dora Milaje.”

           Bucky’s breath got caught in his throat. He wasn’t moving a muscle.

           “They wanted to know if I could absorb the strongest metal on Earth, so slowly…” Her hands went to her front, to the white blouse she was wearing and started popping open the buttons. Bucky was just about to protest when he understood.

           “They pushed the spear too far.” Her finger ran over a rhomb shaped scar right in the centre of her chest. Right over her heart. “Pushed it right through.”

           “How did you survive?” Bucky was appalled, but in awe at the same time. 

            Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t. I died then and there on the table. They took my body and dumped it in some ditch. From my own calculations, it took me about a day to heal. They’d sown in a scalpel in my stomach a few hours before, so I’m assuming it used that as the binding material for the cells.”

“I was so angry.” She looked at him. “At everyone, at myself, that I couldn’t help my family, that I allowed them to just use me like that, I just went off the deep end. I did so many bad things…” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I read about the Winter Soldier, y’know. His whole thing was efficiency, quickness. I – “ She choked on her words. “I wasn’t. I wanted to drag it out. Wanted to find each and every one of the bastards who laid their hands on me and make them suffer as I did.”

           Bucky’s hand settled on her waist as he pulled her closer, feeling her body keen at the motion as she looked for reassurance. “I’m not a good person, Bucky. This.” She motioned with her head to her body. “This is my repentance for what I did.”

           “What he’s doing is not right. What they’re making you do is not right.” Bucky shook his head. “Just because it might not kill you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. No one had any right to touch you.”

           “It’s the price I pay for what I did.”

           “Pain?”

           Y/N nodded. “Eye for an eye. Pain for the pain I caused.”

           Bucky shook his head. “That’s not right.”

           “How else am I supposed to do this?”

           “By getting help yourself first.”

           Y/N’s eyes widened, and Bucky sighed. He understood how impossible that thought seemed, that someone who’s done so much bad could deserve help from others, but he understood her situation better than anyone. “Being here,” he said, “being able to say these things… I can only do that because I got help. It was mandated by the state, but nevertheless…” Both chuckled at that, and Bucky’s heart lightened at the sound, at the genuine sound of joy from her. “But the therapy… I hate to say this, but it helped. It’s not easy. I sometimes detest going to the sessions, and I might be failing them quite miserably right now, especially with rule number two –“

           “What’s rule number two?”

           “Don’t hurt anyone,” Bucky mumbled. “And I’ve broken it quite a lot recently, I know that which will either make me end up behind bars or will add more therapy sessions to the list, but I’m not afraid anymore.”

           Y/N gulped, gazing just as intensely at Bucky as he was at her. “Of what?”

           “Of reaching out.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of asking for help. Of understanding that I deserve help, and I deserve to receive it.”

           “Yeah, but the thing is I’m not like you.” Y/N looked away from him. “No one forced me to do this, no one brainwashed me. I did everything out of my own volition. Me. No one else. You deserve that help because HYDRA did all those things to you. You are a victim of war. I’m not. All those horrible things I did… I did them. Not some alias of mine.”

           Bucky’s heart hurt at the fact that Y/N couldn’t see she was a victim of her own circumstance, and how now the government was punishing her for it. And that’s when another brick hit him – it was exactly like Isaiah’s situation. Both came from marginalised groups, parts of society where the ones in power have been trying to oppress and control them for as long as he could remember, he just couldn’t see it. He could see Sam’s point of view now. Maybe not as clearly as he should, but he was starting to wipe away the fog.

           “They used you just as much as HYDRA used me.” He asserted, and Y/N’s eyes widened at his sure statement. “Just because a pile of shit has a bowtie on now, doesn’t mean it’s no longer a pile of shit… Come with us.” Bucky’s forehead pressed to hers. “Let’s do this the right way.”

           “It’s mandated by the US government that I stay by John’s side and help him.”

           Bucky smirked at that, nudging his nose against Y/N’s. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re in Latvia then. Besides Captain America has no pull here.”

           She laughed, warm breath slipping over Bucky’s skin, and he had to close his eyes as the thought of her breathless and underneath him invaded his mind. “Unfortunately, this deal stands whether I’m inside the borders of USA or outside.”

           Y/N looked over the skyline to where the country’s national monument stood. A woman, hands up in the air outstretched with three stars in her palms, with words she couldn’t understand when she'd arrived etched on the granite at the bottom. Some local had translated them for her. For the Fatherland and Freedom.

           After the blip and the experiments, she didn’t feel like she had a home. She’d been imprisoned and prodded like some lab bunny to see what her body could do. What her body could be used for.

           Bucky followed her gaze as she kept looking at the statue. Different stars, different saying, but still with the same meaning of what he saw when he looked at the Captain America shield. Freedom. Justice. For the love of their home.

Something deep started to burn in her chest, and even Bucky could feel the shift. 

           A ferocious look appeared in her eyes as she looked at him. “Let’s get that shield.” She wasn’t going to let Walker taint that star, she knew would happen if he had it for much longer.

           They’d had a single meeting beforehand, and during that half-hour, he’d been terrified for more than two-thirds of the time about how Y/N might die in his arms, die because she’d taken bullets meant for him. 

           He was so glad she hadn’t, not because it would be another life lost because of him, but because he felt like he’d found a twin flame – someone who’d understand him and his troubles. Someone he could help.

           Maybe that could be the true way he could make amends – help someone in the same situation.

           Bucky smiled.

           Y/N did so too, and his heart skipped a beat looking at the woman.

           Her body might be able to absorb the metals piercing it, Walker might call her a human shield, but he knew she was so much more than that. And he’d spend however long it took him to prove so to her. Maybe even in more ways than one.

_________________________________________________________________

Please reblog if you like this. For whatever reason my Bucky fics aren’t appearing in the tags :(

Tags: 

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​  @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​  @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​ @strangersstranger​

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Marvel tags: @nerissa98 @happyseagrill @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @crazybutconfidentaf @wishingforahome @pizzarollpatrol @desir-ae​

[tintinwrites]

indelible | Comandante Veracruz x Reader | Part Three

A/N: SORRY Y’ALL THERE IS PLOT WITH THIS PORN TBH.

Rating: 18+

Warning: Reader dominates Veracruz and he’s pissed bc HIS PERFECTLY STYLED HAIR but he loves it. Naughty words. Veracruz calls Reader mean names bc he thought she was abandoning him. Lots of lawbreaking and mentions of violence.

Word count: 3,424, apparently!!

Summary: You save Veracruz from being arrested and let your more assertive side out.

Part One | Part Two

GIF credit: thewaythisis (Please let me know if you don’t want me using your GIF!)

Tags: @shadow-assassin-blix​ @bisexual-space-slut​ @damndamer0n​ @woakiees​ @anetteaneta​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @mynameisabsinthe​ @damerondjarin​ @arkofblake​ @spacegayofficial​ @perropascal​ @theocatkov​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @readsalot73​

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

“Stay out of the way, girl.”

That was what Veracruz told you when one of his men’s cars was blown up, as he drove up to where Commander Axe’s people were hiding out in a building, nodding for you to go hide out among some nearby trees with rage in his eyes.

You listened because there was concern there, too, you thought, but you stayed at the edge of the forest to watch.

You let out a quiet laugh when you saw Commander Axe approach Veracruz and his men on a donkey with his hands up in the air to show he wasn’t armed, thinking that you rather liked this man even if he was working against your...whatever Veracruz was. You weren’t even sure whose side you were on considering you tried not to be involved in such things.

Sam was quickly yanked off the donkey then pulled to his feet, only to be punched right back to the ground; you admitted to yourself that your comandante was fairly sexy when he did it, though it seemed immoral.

You were close enough that you could hear them if you really tried, hearing Commander Axe seemingly lying to them about how they needed to surrender because there was more than ‘smelly, stinkin’, unwashed farmers’. You didn’t know what he was talking about, but he really seemed to be bluffing.

“—that’s why I’m here with my one time only, not to be repeated offer,” he pointed almost in Veracruz’s face like he was a child. “Unconditional surrender, right now...and I will let you walk away.” He counted the two terms on his fingers as he smiled almost patronizingly, Perez grinning at him like he was an idiot and Veracruz seeming to consider it with a shrug, but you knew him too well to think that he believed him. “And one more thing.”

“What is it?” Veracruz’ words were clipped as he paused with his hand lifted slightly, turned away from Sam.

“You hand over that pretty girl you’ve been holding hostage.”

Veracruz practically sneered at the idea that you were held against your will, or perhaps at the idea of another man talking about you. He yanked a gun from one of his men and turned back to Commander Axe with a pissed, “You’re bluffing,” before he rammed the gun against his stomach.

You didn’t like knowing about these things, flinching and looking down when he used the gun hard enough on the other man’s head to send him to the ground. By the time you looked up again, he was cocking the gun to shoot him and you kind of wanted to run out to stop him yourself, but Perez did.

They instead turned and started shooting up at a building that you imagined was hiding some people connected to Commander Axe, and you decided not to look again.

Until you heard the sound of helicopters and looked up to see them over the building, then Veracruz was yelling at everyone to leave the trucks they were parked in as all three helicopters began shooting.

Now you really wanted to run out and grab Veracruz and drag him away with you since you would need to start a whole new life without him, but you didn’t want to run into that when all the trucks were being blown up.

A voice started to say that it was the police, telling everyone to surrender, and most of the soldiers walked over with their guns held up to kneel down; Veracruz, however, yanked out a knife and ran for Commander Axe.

You didn’t know whether you were cheering for Sam or wanting to protect the man who never needed protection as he was quickly disarmed and knocked out by the commander, a pang somewhere deep down as you watched the only person you even knew anymore lay there on the ground.

Sam’s eyes scanned as if he knew you were there and you quickly backed away to hide yourself, knowing it wouldn’t be helpful if you were arrested too.

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

Veracruz knew he told you to stay out of the way, but that was so you wouldn’t distract him or end up being shot by one of his or Commander Axe’s men, an idea he didn’t like to entertain the thought of.

Where were you now?

You chose a life with him and now that he was being shoved to his knees in handcuffs to be carted away to prison, you would most likely go back to the life you knew before him.

His eyes scanned the trees where he told you to hide in search of you, lips pulling into a snarl when he saw you briefly running through; running away, abandoning him.

He started to move to his feet, muttering rather unsavory words to himself, thinking of what he was going to do to you for abandoning him like this.

But the officer who was searching him and removing any weapons shoved him right back down with a punch to the ribs that made him grunt.

He was yanked to his feet once he was thoroughly looked over and shoved unceremoniously into the back of a car where he simply stared out the window, raging about his scheme being ruined and you leaving him when he’d done so much for you.

He paid no mind to the driver who slid into the car, only rolling his eyes when their driving made the car jostle.

“Doesn’t this thing go any faster?” That voice made him look forward to see your hair, his gaze moving up to meet yours in the rearview mirror.

“—so you are not off fucking Commander Axe?” His look was shocked, but he hid it beneath the anger he was currently holding onto, quickly moving his expression back to a scowl.

His words made you pause slightly, the submissive side of you backing down a little as you responded curtly, “I knocked out a police officer and stole a government vehicle to save your ass, and you ask me that?”

He was a little taken aback by your snippiness since he was used to the deal that you decided on; you were submissive to him because you enjoyed it so much, usually hanging back and listening to whatever he told you to. You’d never exactly spoken to him like that.

Rather than letting you know it surprised him, though, he kept on with his own attitude. “Are you going to uncuff me?” He raised an eyebrow when all you did was glance in the side mirror to make sure no one was following you, though thankfully no one noticed you take the car. “I asked you a question.”

You were willing to leave him handcuffed if you were doing this and he was acting like that, staying silent as you drove in the direction of the camp.

“What are you doing? Take these off me!” He shook his hands behind his back, looking at you like you were crazy in the rearview mirror.

“Maybe when you calm down a little.” The drive to the camp was a little bit of a long one and you were reflecting on all you’d done for him, and what little he’d done in return.

“Whore,” he spat like a reflex since you weren’t doing what he wanted, but it was more out of anger then the usual sexy scolding.

“The whore you liked so much that you kept me,” you spat right back, finding your own anger the more you thought about his behavior.

He was silent for a long moment and you thought maybe you actually shut the man up, until you felt his lips pressing to your skin. There was no partition in the car, so he was able to lean forward, his chest pressing into the back of the seat. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you when I’m out of these?” He asked softly, letting the tip of his tongue run along the shell of your ear.

It was kind of a threat, yet it made you squeeze your thighs together tightly because you knew he’d never hurt you; spank your ass and not let you cum, yes, but he’d never actually hurt you.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, then tightened your grip on the steering wheel and nodded to yourself as you said it more firmly, “Shut up.” You leaned forward and turned on the radio, leaving it on the first station there and turning it up enough to tell him you didn’t want to hear him.

You pulled up to the campsite soon enough with Veracruz insulting you again as you hopped out of the car, though he calmed down some when you pulled him out of the car to come with you to your tent. You left him at the entrance of the tent with the cuffs still on as you started to throw some clothes and valuables into a duffel bag.

“Where do you keep your money?” That was something he’d always kept private so no one would steal it and you didn’t care much since he kept you fed and clothed.

“Why?” He was standing there with the grumpiest look, all but pouting.

“I just interfered with your arrest for trying to kill people and I stole a government vehicle, so we need to leave and we need money.” You’d almost forgotten that you were once more assertive, before you and Veracruz came to your agreement.

“—the metal box under the bed,” he mumbled.

You crouched down and pulled a green metal box out from under the cot that other soldiers might keep pictures and special items in; this one was full of Colombian pesos.

You’d wanted nothing to do with any of Veracruz’ work and now you’d not only stolen him away from being arrested in a police vehicle, but your first thought when you saw the money that you would probably need to exchange it to the currency of whatever country you needed to flee to.

It was almost funny how you went from not knowing much at all to committing some fairly serious crimes to save the man who was calling you a whore.

You shoved the box into the duffel bag and put it over your shoulder, walking over to grab Veracruz’ arm and drag him out of the tent back to the police car.

All you did was lean in to grab the keys that included the one for the handcuffs, then you walked into a tent to take the keys for one of the cars that had been left behind.

Continuing to drive around in a stolen vehicle would’ve been quite stupid and the car you’d chosen wasn’t a military one, which meant it would be harder to find the two of you.

“Uncuff me,” Veracruz hissed when you opened the passenger side of the car, figuring he couldn’t really do anything with his hands behind his back and he probably wanted to leave as much as you so he wouldn’t try anything.

You merely pushed him into the car and shut the door, noticing his glare through the window as you walked around to hop into the driver’s side.

Tossing the duffel bag into the back and putting the keychain with the handcuff keys on it into a cupholder, you put the key for this car into the ignition and started the engine, pulling out of the camp and onto the road as quickly as you could.

There would still be a bit before anyone was at the camp if they’d seen the car was gone yet, but you wanted to put some distance between you and them.

Veracruz was quiet on the way into the city which you were pretty sure was because he was pissed, and you much preferred it to him insulting you when you were doing all of this for him.

When you pulled up to a cheap little hotel in the middle of the city, you told him you’d be a minute and hopped out of the car, going into the back to grab money from the box then going in to pay for a room; a man in handcuffs might look a little suspicious, so you wanted to buy the room first then bring him in.

Only one night, as you would be booking a plane ticket for the first decent place out of Colombia.

You walked back to the car for Veracruz, the bag, and the keys, going quickly up to the room.

It was small, but it would do, and you left Veracruz on the foot of the bed as you moved to put the keys on the nightstand and the duffel bag in a chair.

“I suggest that you uncuff me.” The anger in his tone made you tense slightly, slowly turning around to face him.

“I suggest you respect me since I broke the law to save your ass.” Yes, you submitted to him in bed, but him acting like this with all you did for him was pissing you off.

“As if I’ve never broken the law for you, hm?”

You glared at each other and as you stared at him, there on the bed, hands behind his back, you thought that maybe you could be the one to do the dominating. To show him what it was like to deal with a brat. He was angering you so much that you wanted to dominate him, to boss him around because you were the one in charge right now.

You smiled at him and he only looked angrier if that were possible. “Now there’s an idea.”

His shoulders straightened and his head lifted slightly when you pulled your shirt off, his expression going from angry to turned on as his gaze went to your breasts.

You were still in your bra, but there was plenty showing to entice him like it always did.

“You’re gonna be a good boy and let me do what I want.” That made him scowl again even with you undoing your pants and pushing them down.

“Did you forget who you belong to?” His eyes followed the lines of your legs anyway, then moved up to stare at your panties.

“Are you saying that you don’t want me to sit on top of you and ride you?”

Silence.

He was both pissed and turned on at your brazen move, his anger perhaps a bit of an act now to remind you he was the dominant one, though his cock was hardening at the thought of you doing this.

You took off your bra and he watched, you took off your panties and he watched, and he stared up at you as you climbed into his lap and freed his cock from his pants.

Your other hand went to that forbidden place that was his hair, messing it up from its neat styling, and he might’ve sneered up at you, but something else flashed in his eyes.

“Are you going to stop misbehaving?” You pouted at him, enjoying this role since he was being such a jerk.

He smiled at you, but it was not a sweet smile by any means, and he said softly and mockingly with a patronizing humor in his eyes, “Si, puta.”

The way he continued to say these things to you when you’d helped him out of going to prison made you so angry, you moved off his lap and looked around the room, quickly grabbing your panties off the floor when you saw them and balling them up, shoving them into his mouth right when he opened it to say something else that was probably unfriendly.

His eyes went wide with shock then turned to rage, glaring up at you as you climbed back into his lap. “There we go.”

You lined his cock up with your entrance and slowly moved down onto him, enjoying the way your underwear muffled his groan. You sat there on his lap and he tried bucking his hips to make you move yours, but you stayed put.

It wasn’t until he stopped that you did what he wanted, riding him at a slow pace that made him twitch inside you.

You moved one hand down to play with your clit, rubbing yourself as your other hand continued to muss his perfectly styled hair; you knew he really hated that, but you could also tell he was turned on by everything you were doing.

Even though you were submissive and happily agreed to be that way with him, you were really enjoying being on top.

“I saved your ass and instead of thanking me like you should, you’re calling me names and insulting me like I abandoned you.” You were able to angle your hips so his cock brushed up against a certain spot inside of you and you moaned.

He was no longer glaring at you as much as before, his eyes mostly filled with lust as he stared up at you.

You were honestly so turned on and the angle you were fucking him was so good that you were close to coming, moving your hips a little bit faster much to his enjoyment.

Your fingers moved faster against your clit and you saw the way he watched your every movement, listened to each moan that fell from your lips like they were music to him.

The way his hips started rocking up into you again wasn’t something you cared about now, focusing only on your pleasure as you pressed against him and came hard around his cock, moaning as you clenched down around him.

He moved a little bit faster, grunting around your panties, and it was when you knew he was about to come that you lifted your hips off of him.

His eyes widened with anger and you smiled at him. “Maybe be nicer to me next time I save you from going to prison.”

It was then your eyes that went wide when his hands were on your arms and he was spitting your panties out before yanking you against him so that your nose was practically pressed to his. “Maybe you shouldn’t leave handcuff keys with the person who’s handcuffed. Now it’s my turn.”

You were quickly turned around and pinned down to the bed by your wrists, moaning loudly as Veracruz thrust into you and began a fast pace against you.

He was groaning and grunting over you, his hips snapping into yours hard. “You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?”

It turned you on for him to be on top of you and dominating you, you couldn’t deny it, but it was fun to be the one dominating for a moment.

“You’re like me now. You’re stuck with me.” He was referring to you breaking the law in such a way and how you were both now criminals who needed to stay together or you might rat each other out; the idea of it seemed to turn him on so much that he thrust a few more times before spilling into you.

He panted as he rolled off you, not saying anything when you slowly moved to lay under his arm with your head on his chest. Your relationship was almost a game and even with him insulting you or you dominating him, you would still silently cuddle as if you needed each other.

“When did you unlock the cuffs?” You asked, looking up at him from the position you were laying in.

“When you went to pay for the room...you are not very good at crime.” He put one hand behind his head, looking at the ceiling.

The two of you laid there in silence for a moment, your hand moving down to put his cock back into his pants. He shooed you away from it, pulling away and undressing himself then laying back down next to you.

He lifted his arm so you could crawl into his side again. “What is your plan, little lawbreaker?”

You ran your fingers over his belly because it was ticklish and you liked the way the muscles twitched, how he’d glare at you but wouldn’t stop you from doing it.

“We’ll buy tickets for the first country out of here and then…”

“And then?”

“We’ll lay low, use some fake names, find some jobs wherever we go so we can make a living.”

“Perhaps you are a smarter criminal than I thought you were.”

[themadauthorshatter]

... What time is it?

Toppat!Henry time!

In case you're just now tuning in, you can catch up with the links below:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 and revision

Part 5

Part 6

In the last part: Charles made it to his destination, The Wall, and got more intel on Henry and his seni-estranged father, who payed his son a little visit. However, when the Toppat Clan arrived and caused another outbreak, Charles failed to escape and was captured by Henry, who let slip what he was REALLY after.

Just a heads up for this one, too, TW if you will: there's A LOT of Stickvin in this one and unwanted touching and getting into physical and mental personal space.

With all that out of the way, BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAM!

We start off with Galeforce outside as he stares at the sky, hoping there's a Wall helicopter coming with Charles piloting it.

It's been a couple days and there's been no call or sign from the pilot, so everyone's on edge.

Calvin and Konrad approach the General and take a seat next to him.

"Think he's alright?" Konrad asks.

"He's Charles," Calvin replies, feigning confidence. "Of course he's alright. He's made it out okay other times, so..."

Konrad hums and holds a knee to his chest. "Still hope he's alright."

"Me, too, boys," Galeforce says, surprising them both. He's still watching the sky and keeping his eyes off the twins. "Me, too."

Funny that they talk about Charles because, CUT TO THE ORBITAL STATION!

Charles is hanging by his wrists in a cell as he comes to with a groan.

TV/camera perspective we'd see his vision is blurry and swimming around from getting knocked out by Henry, who's standing in front of him with a very 'waiting' look on his face; he's not being impatient or showing concern or anything like that, he's just watching Charles wake up and regain his focus, which he does. He's not in the Wall uniform anymore, by the way.

Charles shakes his head and tries to talk, but stops when he realizes he's gagged, with tape over his mouth that's from ine side of his jaw to the other.

He also remembers what happened in the woods and fully wakes up, looking around in complete shock.

"Sleep well?" Henry asks.

Charles looks back at Henry and glares at him, mentally calling him every swear in the book.

Henry only smirks and shrugs. "I got worried I hit you too hard, that's all. Just a friend looking out for another friend."

Charles throws a kick at Henry for that, shouting behind the tape.

We are not friends.

It only amuses Henry more and he walks in a circle around Charles, moving slow enough and out of reach to taunt him; 'Go 'head. Kick me. What's stopping you now?'

Charles only watches him, glaring as he waits to see what Henry will do next.

"I guess you're still wounded by my 'betrayal,' right?" Henry asks as he stops at Charles's side.

Charles sharpens his glare further.

"Since you're clearly not listening, I'll reiterate."

Henry stops smirking and leans into Charles's ear.

"You. Kidnapped. Me. Why would I want to help anyone after that?"

Charles cringes at the lack of space, but drops his gaze, at least before looking back at Henry and replying to him, despite the tape over his mouth.

Henry moves back in front of him and yanks the tape off, causing Charles to yelp.

"I didn't get that. What were you saying?"

After a second of light panting and rubbing his lips to get the stinging away, Charles fixes his glare back on Henry. "I said, we were going to pardon you, if you helped us."

Henry folds his arms over his chest. "Were you? Because, to me, it looked like you weren't going to let me free at all."

"I wish that was the case," Charles snaps.

Henry, not appreciating the salt, rests a hand on Charles's side, under his coat and on his shirt, where his injuries are. The action makes Charles get a little uncomfortable and nervous, especially when Henry feels the bandage that holds Charles's ribs.

"Careful," Henry warns as he pushes his thumb on the bandage. "You're not on Earth anymore. There isn't anyone here that's going to save you."

Charles winces, but glares again; he'd love to kick Henry again, but doesn't want to know what he'll do if he does.

"I don't need anyone to save me."

Henry raises an eyebrow and smirks. "Really? Then why were we interrupted during the heist? If you don't need saving, then how were you going to escpae?"

This time, Charles does kick Henry again, but harder this time, enough to knock him into the wall.

Henry grunts when his back hits the wall, but Charles smirks, proud of himself.

"That's how."

Henry scowls at him before chuckling. "What stopped you that day?"

"You held a GUN to my head."

Henry shakes his head and paces around Charles again, the pilot watching as closely as he can from where he's hanging.

"I've always wondered why you were in the military. Why you are a pilot, of all things, and why does the General keep you so close to him? I thought higher-ups didn't play favorites."

Before he can answer, Charles stiffens when he feels Henry lean against him, the two being back to back.

Henry plays coy, however, folding his arms over his chest and tipping his head back. "I was wondering why you didn't arrest me, at least, seeing as how that was your mission. It got me thinking.

"How many people have you lost? And why would it lead you to spare me when it really mattered?"

Charles pulls at his restraints while Henry's distracted, not wanting to continue the conversation.

You know that gesture where someone snaps their fingers and points up as they say, "Ah"? Henry does that, like he's pretending a lightbulb goes off in his head.

"I remember now."

Henry turns and wraps his arms around Charles, under his arms, one hand on Charles's shoulder and the other on his head and forehead, toying with his hair.

"No one wants to deal with a show-off, especially when he's the youngest pilot in the force."

"That has nothing to do with it," Charles replies through gritted teeth.

"Right. Which begs another question: Why a pilot? Who did you lose to make you go down a path that would leave you so lonely in the end that you'd try befriending a thief?"

"I have friends," Charles barks. "I just don't like getting them hurt."

Henry stares at the floor and simply hums at Charles's words. "How noble. Tell me, have any of these friends ever... returned the favor? If you don't want them getting hurt, then shouldn't they try doing the same for you?"

Charles opens his mouth to say 'yes,' but hesitates as he thinks about how they didn't follow him, but they weren't supposed to, as established by Henry and Charles during their agreement.

Henry, however, takes it as Charles simply not having an answer.

"Funny how you're willing to almost die for those two twins. What else are you willing to do to keep them safe?"

Charles turns and glares at Henry. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Henry moves his hand to Charles's hip, which further disturbs Charles because he doesn't like being close enough to an enemy to be checked for a hernia(please tell me you got the reference. Breaking Bad, btw).

"Just wondering what you'd do, if we decided to pick up those twins you're close to and bring them here."

That implication/threat is the last thing Charles needs to hear, and his glare drops into a look of panic as he watches Henry walk around him until they're face to face; trained soldier be damned, he cares for the twins like brothers, and he doesn't want them anywhere NEAR Henry or the orbital station.

"Don't."

"What about Officer Price? I'm sure he'd be more than happy to see you."

"Dont."

"Or what?" Henry barks. "You're already trapped here, so fighting isn't going to help you."

"If you want to know where that stupid sappire is, it's in the ocean," Charles snaps. "We broken it into pieces and spread across the water! Beyond that know one knows where it is!"

Henry leans close to Charles and rests his arms and hands against Charles's.

"You and I both know that's a lie."

Charles glares again. "What'll you do, if I don't tell you? Go back to the base and the General will make aure you don't leave, but keep wasting your time with me and you'll never find it. And I'll die before telling you, so you might as well let me go."

Henry smirks and lowers his hands until he's holding either side of his head.

"All good things come to those who wait, Charlie."

The two stare at each other for a little bit before Charles gulps and breaks the silence:

"Just... for the sake of argument, let's say I did tell you where the sapphire is. Would you let me go?"

I should note here Charles is not really going to snitch on the twins. He's more testing the waters to see what his choices are here.

Henry's smirk grows and brushes some hair out of Charles's face.

"Like I said before: why would I ever want that?"

With that Henry backs away and leaves, turning his back to Charles, who watches him put in a finger swipe code on a panel and hears rattling as he leaves, tossing something up and down in his hand.

Hope you paid attention to Henry moving his hand because the thing he's tossing up and down is Charles's ADD medicine, which Charles instantly notices and gets a cold sweat as he realizes he's now against the clock for getting to the panel and escaping; he needs all the focus he can get and cannot do that without his medicine.

"You'll come around eventually. Until then, enjoy your stay."

The door closes behind Henry and Charles listens to him leave, hearing his shoes against the floor.

Once Henry's gone, Charles tugs and pulls at his restraints again, more desperately and panicking when they don't give.

Seeing he won't be breaking the cuffs and aching from his wounds, Charles stops and screams to the ceiling, swearing and calling Henry a bastard.

[tuffduff]

Cuffed (Duff McKagan x Reader)

Pairing: Duff McKagan x Reader

Words: 2052

Request: @niksixx​ “Hi hiii I know you said I could request something, but I don’t have anything specific in mind, so if you’re feeling up to it, maybe you could whip up a cute/romantic/fluffy Duff piece??? Thank you in advance and don’t feel pressured 💕”

A/N: Thanks for the request, Momma Motley! 🖤🖤🖤 OKAY, so this was inspired by a story I read on Reddit about two people realizing their feelings as they got arrested for climbing the roof of a building. Idk, the idea of Duff just makes me long for a free and spontaneous love. I hope y’all like it. 🤍🤍🤍

Taglist: @ubernoxa​ @reigns420​ @the--blackdahlia​ @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker​

They say you’re lucky if you meet at least one person in life that really knows your soul rather than keeping a large array of close acquaintances. You were never really one that believed in the power of the universe until you met Duff; that kind of unspoken understanding was much too powerful and unfathomable for you to understand. There was simply no other explanation. He was your absolute best friend. He knew everything about your life up until the moment you met, and from that day forward, he was almost always around for every new memory of your life.

When he decided to up and move to LA, you went with him. What did either of you have to lose? You stayed together in a roach infested shabby apartment, watching the helicopter lights outside your windows as you slept on the ground, the both of you blaming the predicament on the other.

When things started happening for Guns N’ Roses, sometimes it’s was harder to see Duff. He was always busy, and the mini tour loops they started doing often took him away, but once you were reunited, it was as if you picked right back up on the moment you left off.

“I don’t want to go home yet, Y/N.” Duff told you as the two of you staggered out of the closing bar one night when it was closer to morning. You always tried to be the responsible one if you went out drinking, so you still had your wits about you. Duff could handle his cups and wasn’t entirely wasted, but you knew that wild look lighting his eyes.

“Well, bar’s closing, Duffy.” You told him, crossing your arms and looking around the mostly deserted street you were on. “Where do you suggest we go, the roof?” You had fueled the bright look in his eye, and suddenly he was marching away to the back alley of the building. “Duff! I was kidding!” You laughed, running behind him and trying to keep up with his long legs.

“C’mon, Y/N. You always said you’d jump off a bridge after me if I went. Or at least, you told your mom that one time.” Duff’s face lit up at the sight of a ladder leading up to the rooftop right next to the dumpster piled with trash.

“That was a joke!”

“So, you would let me die without you?”

“At that point, you would be choosing to die without me.” He thought for a moment before he nodded.

“Okay, so that means I’m taking you with me. Got it.” He grabbed your arm to pull you in front of him and positioned you in front of the ladder. Your stomach fluttered as he patted your ass a little. “Go on, it’s easy. You just have to put one foot—there you go, like that.”

“You don’t have to be so pushy, you know.” You told him with a pause. You had climbed high enough on the ladder that you were now eye level with him for once. “You know I was gonna follow you anyway.” He smirked back at you because he knew you were exactly right.

“Hurry up, slow poke, you’re holding up the line.”

You climbed all the way to the top and could see all the glittering lights of LA, all the tops of the palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze, the same breeze that was tousling Duff’s hair about. Your eyes focused in on the dark patch of hair, the memory of you dyeing it for him in your shared tiny bathroom hit you, as it often did.

At that moment, Duff caught your eye and smiled, moving in closer to you.

“See all of this? You were gonna miss out on this view if I weren’t here.” Despite his words, his eyes remained on you.

You took him in, finding him more interesting than the backdrop of California around you, the way his sloppy sleeveless tank top slight hung off his shoulders and exposed a strip of his tummy. The padlock chain around his neck, you had been there to fasten it for him after he bought it. His dark jeans with the wholes in the knees and worn leather belt that had less than a few more wears in it before it broke entirely. The brand-new cowboy boots, his latest purchase, that made him trip over the sidewalk earlier that evening when you arrived at the bar.

A joke passed through your mind, a smart remark—you two were always joking—but instead, you answered him seriously.

“There’s a lot of things I would’ve missed out on if it weren’t for you.” The look remained in his eyes, not quite something you could pinpoint, but it was making you feel alive, rushing through your body. As you were admiring the way his lips parted to speak, his face was suddenly a flashing light show of blue and red. Then, the sirens hit your ears.

“Shit.” Duff said, looking over your head to the street below. You whipped around and could see what looked like at least 4 cop cars pulling up.

“What do we do?” You hissed, turning back to Duff in a panic; you had never been arrested before.

A bright spotlight illuminated the both of you and your mouth fell ajar. Duff calmly looked below you to see the cops already starting up the ladder and waved.

“Well, we can’t make a run for it.” He replied to you, before he began laughing. At first, the sound of his laugh felt out of place—this was not the time for laughter. And that thought was what made you laugh too. You were both gone at that point; once one of you started laughing, neither of you could stop. You had to sit down because you were laughing so hard by the time two cops poked their heads over the top.

“Hey,” Duff managed to say calmly, which only made you laugh more. They pointed their flashlights at the both of you and maybe realized you weren’t exactly threats, but rather, two dumb kids who had decided to climb a roof.

“Are you aware you two are trespassing?” One of the cops asked, almost sounding mildly amused.

“Yes,” Duff replied.

“No,” you replied at the same time, making the both of you break out into childish laughter again.

“...Alright, we’re gonna need you both to come on down now. Let’s go.” The officer was firm with his words despite the half smile he had on his face. “Have you been drinking tonight?” He asked as he shined a light directly in Duff’s face.

“Not enough.” Duff replied, to which you bit back another laugh.

“Why did you climb up there?” The officer questioned once you were back on the ground.

“We had nothing better to do. I always see these ladders and wonder where they go, you know.” Duff answered honestly, as though he were discussing weather. The light amused look remained on the officer’s face as his partner looked at him in disbelief. He turned to you now.

“Do you always follow his lead?”

“For the better part of 7 years, yeah.” You replied, and this time it was Duff laughing.

“Would you follow him off a bridge too?”

“We were just talking about that!” Duff laughed while you shook your head.

“Well, I’m afraid tonight you’re going to be following him to jail. Turn around, both of you, and place your hands on the car. You’re under arrest...” for a moment, you froze up and looked at Duff with wide eyes before you had no choice but to comply.

“Fuck,” you heard Duff mutter under his breath as the cop read you your rights and secured handcuffs on both of you. You just shook your head at him before you were both stuffed into the back-seat side by side, left and right. The car doors shut and sealed you away from the open breeze. It almost made the moment sink in more, but you had the strange urge to hold back a laugh again.

“Why can’t you be more famous?” You broke the silence between the two of you, causing another fit of giggles.

“We should’ve tried to run. Jump from rooftop to rooftop,” Duff joked back. You wondered why you felt so calm. You wondered what you were gonna tell your parents. You turned and looked at Duff, noticing the black strand of hair turning red and blue over and over, his eyes watching the police chat with one another and start paperwork. His eyes then flitted over to you and you both stared, picking back up on the moment you were having on the rooftop, the electricity of seven years too overwhelming to be contained in such a tiny space.

“Kiss me.” Duff said suddenly. Your heart jumped. You surely weren’t hearing right; those words would have never come out of Duff’s mouth. His tone had a slight edge, it walked a fine line between a command and a plea.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“We’re never gonna get a chance like this again,” Duff pointed out.

“With you, I might.” You couldn’t help but joke. But his eyes, they stayed on you, and that feeling Duff always brought with him came rushing over you again. What you felt on the rooftop you could now pinpoint: it was what you felt riding down the highway with the top down screaming along the lyrics to Iggy Pop. It was what you had felt from the very first moment you met Duff. A roaring coursing freedom. The insistence to be wild at heart, to be you, to exist as you are because with him, you were enough already. With him, you were free. Cuffed and caught in the backseat of a police car, you were still free.

You leaned up without any more hesitation and pressed your lips to his and it was as if your fate was sealed. The deal was done and the ink was dry; there would be no turning back. His lips molded to yours before you felt his tongue swipe over your lower lip and you parted your mouth more, pushing the kiss deeper. Never before in your life had you wanted to tangle your hands in his hair more, to hold his face in yours, to feel his hands roam your body. You both had to pull back after a moment due to the discomfort of the position. You had no time to speak; the police officers opened back up the door.

“You two live around here?” He questioned.

“Down the street.” You replied, still unsteady from the surprise kiss.

“Alright, here’s the deal; we’re gonna let you two off the hook, so as long as you get straight home, okay? Consider this a warning. And don’t go trespassing again, alright?”

The cuffs came off. You knew good and well not to say anything; this was really just luck of the draw and with any other cop, it could’ve been a lot worse. But those thoughts left your mind as soon as they took off, disappearing as quickly as they showed up. The night was still again, the breeze just as gentle, but your heart still felt wild as you turned back to Duff.

“Duff, I—” he cut you off with another kiss, one hand on the back of your neck and the other latching into your waist, pulling you flush against him. You indulged yourself to what you couldn’t before and tangled your hands in his hair, something so familiar and yet so new.

“That was a close one, huh?” He murmured against your lips. You could feel him smiling. You thought of every time you had seen the same smile before and now knew exactly how his lips felt. How they tasted.

“Lucky us,” you agreed, smiling back. “It’s funny; you would be the first person on my list for my one phone call at the station. After you, it’d probably be Steven and I doubt he would answer.”

“I’d call Izzy. He’d probably answer and hang up.” Duff replied. You laughed at the idea. Duff then grabbed your hand, again, a familiar but new situation. “I like this version better.”

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Dynasty Chapter 28

“Oopsy-daisy!” Deadpool said as he shook the body off his katana. The katana he had to then throw to the side since it was bent in the middle.

[I told you not to get them from that vendor. He clearly didn’t know what he was doing.]

{Ugh—his guts are all over our feet.}

Deadpool laughed maniacally, twirled, and shot the next four enemies. Then he looked around, slightly disappointed that there weren’t any more to kill.

[That was what, five bodyguards plus target? It was too easy.]

{There’s someone behind us.}

Deadpool whirled again, gun raised to the head of a young man. The man had white streaks in his orange hair, was dressed in an impeccable suit, and looked nervous. Deadpool didn’t take the nervous part personally—most people were when they talked to him. The young man had both hands raised and part of Deadpool sighed with regret that he wasn’t going to be able to kill the young man. He had two rules: kill no one unarmed and not trying to kill him (unless he was being paid insanely well for it) and two: no children—ever. There was not enough money in the world to make him consider killing a child.

The young man swallowed hard. “I’ve—I’ve heard a lot about you Deadpool.”

Deadpool shrugged without moving the gun. “People have. People talk. People die,” he said simply. “It’s all in good fun, I mean money. I mean money and fun.” He giggled.

The young man looked unnerved. Most people did after talking to Deadpool for a few minutes. “Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about.” The young man swallowed again. “I want to hire you to kill someone for me.”

“Oh? Who is that?”

“Spiderman.”

[Who the fuck is that?]

{Eh, forget. Let’s just kill this fucker.}

“Now now, we can’t kill him,” Deadpool said reasonably. “After all, he’s going to pay us to kill someone else.”

[And just what are you going to do with more money? Buy another shitty sword?]

“I’ll spend my money how I want it!” snarled Deadpool. The young man took a step back. “So, mister—uh—what’s your name?”

“Osborn. Norman Osborn.”

“Well Normie,” Deadpool said as he slipped his gun back into its holster. “We maybe have a deal.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe. I have no fucking clue who Spiderman man, and I don’t kill kids.” He picked up the bent katana and sighed. “White’s right,” he muttered, “cheap ass sword. I bet the bastard wasn’t even a real smith.”

[We can always kill him on the way out of town.]

“So you’re going to do research?” Normie sounds surprised—astonished even.

“Oh yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he told the man. He swung the katana a few times.

{I don’t think it’ll work if we straighten it.}

“Shouldn’t have bent in the first fucking place,” grouched Deadpool as he lumbered off. He walked right off the roof, died, healed, and kept going. Once he reached his place (a real dump, but he didn’t care enough to clean up), he got on his computer (a state-of-the-art laptop because who wants to look at grainy porn), and started researching Spiderman.

According to the inter-web, he he, the spider has only been around for about six months, was both credited for stopping a terrorist organization and cited as the menace behind the organization, and basically did hero stuff. Like one of those stick-in-the-ass Avengers he occasionally ran into. Oh, and he had a blog. Wait—Spiderman had a blog?

Curious he began browsing it. The thing had several different threads; one of them was a rant thread about his villains—yadda yadda yawn—another was about food—was there anything the spider didn’t eat? Not that Deadpool was one to judge—but the third one caught his eye. It was about “everyday heroes.” A clerk spotting a runaway some money for milk (bet she never saw that money again), an officer helping a kid, off the clock, with homework, a gang leader rescuing a kitten from a tree—weird random shit. And Deadpool knew random.

[Oh, that should be our new catchphrase!]

Then Deadpool came across a recent post, and stared for a moment.

I’ve been hearing a lot about a mercenary known as Deadpool. I’ve heard that he’s got no morals, is certifiably insane, and has a larger kill count than the last world war. If you read this Deadpool, I want to tell you something: Don’t kill in my city.

{That’s practically an invitation!}

[Don’t go. It might be a trap.]

“With this shit? No way.” Deadpool jumped up and grinned. “We’re going to New York City!”

[We’re not really going to not kill people, right? Just because a blog said so?]

^^^

Of course, Deadpool hadn’t expected a group of thugs to meet him on one of the buildings. “Osborn ain’t happy with you ‘Pool,” one of them sneered. He flipped out a switchblade—an honest to God switchblade—against Deadpool. “We’re here to kill you.”

“Fellas,” Deadpool said, “I’m flattered—I really am, but have you actually thought this through?”

[His face looks like a gorilla’s ass!]

{Do you think he knows that?}

“No, I don’t think he knows his face looks like a gorilla’s ass, but I’ll ask. Hey flat-face! Did you know your face looks like a gorilla’s ass?” The man’s face suffused with rage and he lunged forwards to attack Deadpool—only to be pulled back by a thick, white strand. Deadpool watched, fascinated, as a figure in a blue and red suit with a white spiderweb symbol on the chest began wrapping the man in the threads.

“Holy shit! It’s Spiderman!” One of the goons crept up behind Deadpool and he landed a punch—that deformed the man’s face.

[What’s that jaw made of, glass?]

“Hey Spidey! I haven’t killed anyone in your city!” He noticed the man on the ground, not moving. “Oh, shit, you are still alive, aren’t you? Don’t make a liar out of me!” He yanked the man on the ground, pulled him up to his ear, and listened. He heard the unmistakable sound of air rushing through tubes. “Yup, still alive,” Deadpool said with satisfaction letting the other man drop to the rooftop.

Spiderman rose from a crouch and looked over at Deadpool. Unlike Deadpool, his mask wasn’t emotive, so Deadpool couldn't tell what Spiderman was thinking. “You must be Deadpool,” Spiderman said.

[He knows who we are!]

{Of course he does! He practically invited us!}

[We’re still going to kill him, aren’t we?]

{Are you nuts? He just saved us!}

[Yeah—but we didn’t need saving.]

{Not like he knows that!}

Deadpool just beamed at Spiderman. “Yes I am!” he said. “And I haven’t killed anyone in your city!” Spiderman walked over to Deadpool.

{I don’t think he’s happy.}

[We should just kill him now!]

Spiderman reached out, and gently touched Deadpool’s shoulder. “Good job,” he said.

[Did—did he just praise us? For not killing people?]

{Not for not killing people, weren’t you listening? For not killing people in his city!}

[Still a first either way.]

“Bank robbery,” muttered Spiderman looking away from Deadpool. “At this time of night?” he asked.

Deadpool couldn't see the hero frown, but could hear it in his voice. Deadpool bounced and clapped his hands. “Oh! Let me come too! I want to help too!” he said.

[He’s not going to want our help, dipshit.]

{Look, just because he invited us to the city doesn’t mean he wants our help.}

“All right,” Spiderman said grudgingly, “but let me call someone first.” He pulled out a phone, flipped it open (seriously, who still has a flip-phone in this day and age) and began to dial.

“A cabbie? A helicopter? Your lady friend?”

“Police,” Spiderman said vaguely.

[Say what now?]

{Eh, if he tries to have us arrested we can just kill him. We were hired to do that anyway.}

Deadpool listened to Spiderman request both police and an ambulance for a criminal that was severely injured during the capture procedure. Then the spider closed the phone and tucked it into the suit—and there wasn’t even a bulge to indicate where it came from. “Holy shit, and they say I’m amazing. Well, never twice, but holy shit! Where, in that tightness, did you put a pocket?”

“Are you going to be like this the whole way?” demanded Spiderman. “Because, if you are, you can find your own way to the bank.” He rattled off an address.

[Holy—not only did he not call the cops on us, but he’s still letting us tag along!]

{I don’t think we can kill him now. Maybe Osborn? But not in this city.}

The spider had long since swung off. “Guys,” Deadpool said, “this nice thing—it’s only an act. I’ll kill him when he slips.” He grinned. “But until then—let’s see where this takes us!” He pulled out a grappling hook and fired it at the next building over so that he could swing like the spider towards the robbery.

^^^

The act didn’t fade. Spiderman not only let Deadpool patrol with him to help the police stop crime (although that was difficult in itself—trusting the police) he frequently thanked the merc for his help. It was—strange. Nice, but—strange. People had never really thanked him before—not even the few people he knew who could listen to him without getting nervous.

That was another odd thing about Spiderman—he didn’t get nervous around Deadpool, not like other people did. Hell, just the other night a criminal had turned, seen Deadpool right beside Spiderman and literally wet his pants right there in fear. It was a given response—a normal response. Deadpool was having trouble with Spiderman’s lack of response.

The blog was fun though. At first he hadn’t thought twice about it, posting about the night’s patrol under the rant section (and was oddly pleased that he wasn’t one of the people Spiderman ranted about)—until Spiderman began responding to his posts which was—frankly terrifying. He wasn’t sure why it made him nervous.

And that day he was reading “Everyday Heroes” to see—himself. A post about how Deadpool, notorious mercenary and cold-blooded killer, waded into thick, NYC traffic to save a kitten that had somehow ended up in the middle of the street. The post was, like all the others in the Everyday Heroes section, short and sweet.

Only thing was, that incident happened in the broad light of day, and Spiderman had been nowhere around.

{He did tell us that he sees more than we think he does.} Yellow sounded anxious.

[He’s making us feel again. That’s never good. We should just kill him and forget this whole thing.]

But—Deadpool didn’t want to kill Spiderman. Hanging out with Spiderman was fun. The hero would laugh at his jokes, praised him for not killing people (in New York City), and thank Deadpool for his help. It was nice, it was fun, and he didn’t want it to end yet.

[You’re right. We should wait to kill him until after he hates us.]

{Spiderman isn’t going to hate us!}

[Everyone hates us; just give it time.]

Deadpool, alone in his crappy apartment (because, again—immortal and who cares), nodded. He would do that. White was right—everyone hated him eventually, and he could enjoy hanging out with the spider until he hated Deadpool too. Then he could kill him.

^^^

It wasn’t until the capture of the giant green lizard that Deadpool realized that Spiderman—Spiderman wasn’t going to hate him. In fact, Spiderman was worried about Deadpool, about how casual Deadpool was with his own life. Staring at the ranting spider the mercenary came to an odd—and yet right—conclusion: Spiderman—cared. Spiderman cared more about Deadpool’s life than anyone else—including Deadpool. It was heartwarming, it was wonderful—and it was terrifying.

[Well, we can’t kill him now.]

Spiderman’s rant ran down and Deadpool frantically searched for something to change the subject. “You hungry? I know a great Mexican place—open twenty-four hours!”

Spiderman stared at Deadpool for a moment in silence.

{I don’t think he’s happy with us.}

[Let’s kill him now!]

Finally the hero heaved a huge sigh. “Yeah, sure. Why not?” he asked. The two of them walked to the restaurant, leaving the human that used to be a giant lizard in a box in the alley. They made the walk in silence, they ordered—and Spiderman pulled out his phone and started texting.

“Who are you texting?” asked Deadpool as he helped himself to some of the complimentary nachos.

“Mrs. Conner. We’ve worked out a system; I’m letting her know he turned again and where to pick him up.”

Deadpool stared at Spiderman, as if he hadn’t seen the hero before. “Spidey—are you helping someone avoid the police?”

“Do you honestly think he’ll get the help he needs in prison?” Spiderman demanded. “Besides,” he added as the waitress (sadly, one of those that won’t serve alcohol without a photo ID) brought them their drinks, “he didn’t hurt anyone and honestly? That company deserves a little cosmetic damage. Maybe then people might see them for the monsters they really are.” Spiderman pushed his mask up to his nose and took a sip of the carbonated beverage.

“You should put that on your blog,” Deadpool said. He too, had pushed up his mask. Spiderman either pretended not to see—or really didn’t care.

[Don’t kid yourself—he’s being polite. Besides, it’s dark in here. It’s dark everywhere the two of you go to eat.]

{Maybe. He actually seems to like us.}

Deadpool watched the lower half of Spiderman’s face twist in a grimace. “I really just want to focus on more positive things in that blog.” He gave a tiny smile.

“Like saving kittens in traffic?” Deadpool’s voice was harder than he meant it to be.

The slight smile faded. “Do you mind?” he asked. “If you do, I’ll pull it off.”

[Whoa. He’s offering to change his blog for us!]

{Forget killing him; you should marry him!}

“Eh, no, it’s fine,” he assured the young hero. While Spiderman had never given Deadpool an age it was clear the hero was young. Possibly even young enough to make him qualified for the “no children” rule—although Deadpool was kind of hoping not. The waitress brought their food and walked quickly away. “I was just surprised. I didn’t see you anywhere around at the time.”

Spiderman smiled again. “I told you,” he said calmly, “I see more than you think I do.”

Deadpool couldn't let it go. “Then what about the ones that don’t have a good reason for what they do?” he asked thinking back to the days, not that long ago, when he was one of those people. “What if they can’t change?”

The white eyes of the Spiderman suit met his calmly and the hero shrugged. “What if they can?” he asked.

^^^

A few days later he got a tip about a man he’d been chasing around the globe—and was on a bridge, at twilight, waiting.

{This might not be the best idea. Isn’t Spiderman waiting for us to patrol?}

[It’s Francis! We can’t let that bastard get away with what he did to us!]

“No,” Deadpool said, suit tight over scarred skin as memories of screams and pain washed over him for a moment. “We can’t.”

{We can’t kill him in the city! Spiderman trusts us!}

[Easy—we knock him out, take him outside the limits, and then kill him. Then we’re still not killing someone in the city and we can kill Francis.]

{I think Spiderman might object to that logic.}

[Then we kill him too.]

“We’re not killing Spiderman,” Deadpool muttered as the car his informant had told him about came into the street. “But we are,” he added grimly before getting into position to jump, “going to kill Francis.” He jumped into the car on the street below.

Something unexpected happened after he landed on the car. Several other cars, nearby, braked and then surrounded him in a circle as he felt an odd stinging sensation in his neck. He reached up and pulled out—a dart with a plunger?

“Poor Wade,” said the smooth voice of Deadpool’s most hated enemy. The British accent almost brought back waking nightmares of torture. “Did you really think it would be that easy to kill me? I’m far smarter than you think.” The tall man with his shaved head and hallow eyes stepped out of the car and grinned down at Deadpool.

Deadpool tried to focus—but the world was bleeding into color.

“Did you think you destroyed everything in the facility?” asked Francis, sounding warmly amused. “Oh, we still have all your data—and not even your healing factor can save you now.” Francis strode forward and gripped Deadpool’s chin—and Deadpool couldn't move. His arms were coated in lead. “This time,” the man said savagely, “you will become a perfect little mindless slave.”

There were yells, shouts, and gunfire. Francis pulled his hand away and Deadpool collapsed as the ground turned into a mass of technicolor bubbles with teeth. Teeth that wanted to rip into Deadpool—to rip him apart.

“Deadpool?” asked a familiar voice. ‘Oh, shit!”

[Not like…Spidey…to swear.]

{Ow.}

Deadpool’s world dissolved into nightmares. He had no idea how long they taunted him, haunting him. Making him live through the torture again. To watch his best friend, his only friend (before Spiderman) die again.

He knew when the nightmares stopped though. He could hear birds chirping nearby. He opened his eyes—to see a young man—no, a young teenage boy—right next to him. He froze as he tried desperately to remember how this had happened.

The boy groaned slightly, opened brilliant amber eyes, and then leaned forward to place his cool, smooth forehead against Deadpool’s own.

[Oh my God! He’s touching our skin!]

{Where’s the mask? Where’s the mask?}

Deadpool—was frozen. He knew his face was hideous and that he looked like some kind of old school movie monster. What if the boy realized it? Where had the boy come from? And where was Deadpool for that matter?

“Good,” murmured the boy in satisfaction. “Your fever broke.”

“Fever?” asked Deadpool. He hadn’t had a fever since—not since the first time he saw Francis. Not since his healing factor had kicked in. Since he stopped being able to die.

The boy didn’t answer him, but rolled over and off the bed. “Aunt May,” he called as he padded from the room, “his fever broke!”

“What fever?” asked Deadpool again, his voice harsh and raspy. He rolled over, only to collapse back against the bed panting. His limbs felt like weak, overcooked noodles. “What happened?” he asked.

[Had something to do with that damn dart.]

{Weasel gave us up!}

Deadpool felt a brief wave of anger at the bartender/informant—that quickly drained away. Of course Weasel had given Deadpool up the same way that Deadpool would have done the same to Weasel if their positions had been reversed. Deadpool couldn't hate him for that.

[I’ll hate him for all three of us then.]

An old woman, dressed in a button-down the front blue blouse with faded blue jeans, came into the room and looked at Deadpool, mouth pressed into a thin line and eyes narrowed. “So you’re finally back with us. Well, Deadpool or whatever you call yourself, get dressed.” She gestured to a chair with clothes on it. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”

[Who is she to give us orders?]

{Where are we? And why do we feel weak?}

“Good question,” muttered Deadpool. He looked up as the boy entered the room again. “Where am I?”

“My house,” the boy said calmly, as if he carried injured mercenaries into his home every day. Maybe he did. “I didn’t know where you lived and you needed help.” The boy frowned. “Aunt May used to be a nurse, so I thought—well, she knew what to do.”

“Wait,” said Deadpool, confused. “What?”

The boy blinked those huge amber eyes and then grinned. “Sorry,” he said, “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Peter Parker. Also,” he added with a sly twinkle, “known as Spiderman.”

Deadpool stared for a moment. What—Spiderman—here? Spiderman willingly took Deadpool home? “How—how did you know I was on that bridge?” he asked warily.

“I keep telling you that I see more than you think I do,” the boy—Peter responded.

And Deadpool realized where he’d seen that face before. When he’d waded into traffic to save that kitten, that face had been on the sidewalk, watching him as he verbally abused the drivers who would run over a helpless little animal because they were in a hurry, Peter had been one of the faces in the crowd. One of the few weren’t being exasperated with him. “You were there,” he said wonderingly, “that day I saved the kitten. But—I didn’t—I didn’t notice you.”

Peter, instead of taking offense, merely chuckled. “It’s an art to be unnoticeable,” he said. “I’ve been perfecting it for years.”

Deadpool laughed a little breathlessly. He started to hold out a scarred hand, and hesitated.

[He’s already seen us.]

{And he’s not making gagging noises!}

Deadpool swallowed and held out his hand. “Wade,” he said introducing himself for the first time since the torture. “Wade Wilson.”

Peter gently took Wade’s hand, and then helped the man stand up. Wade wasn’t surprised—on one of their patrols he’d seen Spiderman lift and toss a huge concrete pillar from a parking garage that collapsed. Wade was more surprised by the fact he needed help getting dressed—since the healing factor kicked in he hadn’t been weak for longer than it took for him to come back to life. He also needed help getting down the stairs to the table—which was set with homemade waffles, fake maple syrup, and bowls of fresh fruit next to tall glasses of juice.

It was a better meal than anything Wade had seen in years. “Thank you,” he said as Peter helped him into a seat.

The old woman—Aunt May—watched him with narrowed eyes for a moment. “I understand,” she said looking at him, “that you’re the reason Peter has decided to come clean about his—extra curricular activities.” Peter winced.

“I had no idea he was going to be there,” Wade protested.

“Of course you didn’t,” said the woman. “You don’t understand,” she said, “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I’m saying that Peter has finally found a reason to talk to me again.”

Peter winced. “Aunt May—” he began.

“Yes, I know—you were trying to protect me.” She snorted. “I have a better chance of not being in danger if I know that there is danger!”

Peter shrank slightly. “Yes, Aunt May.”

She snorted. “Reckless child,” she muttered affectionately. The three of them sat down together and ate.

The experience was—novel. The closest thing Wade had to compare to it was those late night meals he grabbed with Spiderman. Prior to that Wade hadn’t had a meal in company—a meal eaten with another person—since before the torture.

And no one at this table wanted to kill Wade, or torture him, or hurt him. It was—new.

Near the end of the meal Peter spoke up. “About that—man,” he said grimly, “that shot you with the dart. Francis.” Oddly enough Peter made the name sound like a curse and Wade looked up warily. Bright, amber eyes met his and he said grimly, “I told him he had twenty-four hours to get out of my city.”

“Don’t kill in my city.”

Peter was giving Wade permission to go after Francis and finish the man off.

“That’s nice,” said Aunt May blithely, reminding both of them of her presence. “Peter, take the dishes to the sink and then take garbage. I want that bin by the curb for them to pick up.” Peter kissed his aunt on the cheek as he gathered the dishes and left the room. “He’s a good boy. We raised him well,” she said absently before turning to face Wade again. “As for you,” she said grimly. “You like him.”

It wasn’t a question, and Wade didn’t respond to it.

“If you kill that man, and I’m not going to say he doesn’t deserve to to die after the nightmares you had—”

What had Wade said in his sleep? How much did they know? He stared at the old woman and realized—she’d never tell him.

“—but if you kill him you will change the relationship you are building with that boy forever. Be prepared for that,” she said firmly as Peter came back into the kitchen.

^^^

A few weeks later saw Wade completely healed.

[Don’t you think it’s odd that we’re not calling ourselves Deadpool anymore?]

{No more odd than the fact we’re calling Spidey Petey.}

He found himself in Weasel’s bar, and if he’d had any doubts about the man’s information the way the bartender went completely white at the mere sight of him showing up would have killed them.

[I still say we should kill him.]

{Not in Peter’s city.}

[Eh.]

“Dead—Deadpool,” Weasel stammered. “How—how are you buddy?” He swallowed.

“A lot better than our mutual friend Francis wants me to be,” Deadpool said as he sat on one of the bar stools. He leaned on his elbows on the bar and looked over the bartender who looked nervous.

“I’m sorry man,” the bartender said. “I didn’t want—it’s nothing personal.”

Deadpool smiled. “Oh, I know,” he said cheerfully. “The same way I know that if our positions were reversed I would do the same thing. No, I came here because you’re going to do me a favor.”

“A favor?” asked Weasel.

“Nothing you haven’t done before. You’re just going to spread some information—for me this time.”

“And what—information would that be?” asked Weasel nervously.

“Anyone who tries to go after Spiderman will have to go through me.”

Wade never did leave the city to hunt down Francis. After all, if Deadpool left New York—then who would protect Spiderman?

[rosesvioletshardy]

can we do it? - billy /four - prologue

my billy fic is finally here! it took me a while to figure what i wanted it to be called so i’m sorry it too a long time for this to be posted.

i really hope you all like this fic and i apologize if it’s not as good as my other fic

summary: one team. seven people. two lovers. things are about to get crazy and zero and four don’t know if they can do it with everything that’s going on

masterlist

# of words: 2943

warnings: mentions of blood, death, flirting ??, 

inbox me or message me if you want to be added to the taglist for this series

--

“Took you long enough”

“Well sorry we were being chased throughout italy possibly in the brightest car possible thanks to six” one told her not liking her attitude as he tried to look over to see if anyone was coming

zero quickly got into the car managing to fit into the back squished next to two other women as five was trying conduct surgery on two

“it would’ve gone better if one didn’t act like a fucking dick to the lawyer”

“well he wasn’t cooperating so we had to go to plan b”

“I thought me hacking into the servers was plan b?”

“well that was plan c if plan b didn’t work”

“for fucks sake”

The girl had rolled her eyes already knowing that everything has gone to shit and that something or someone will most likely be hurt in the end, except for two where it wasn’t her fault. 

Zero that was her number. She was the first to be recruited after almost being arrested for hacking into the servers to expose some of the wealthiest people of all time for what they have done that the country was keeping quiet about. She was given the option to do something better for the world and she took it. The only downside was she would have to leave her life behind. That meant faking her death and leaving her twin brother, her parents, and her friends behind. She didn’t like the idea at first but she weighed out all her options and realized that she would do more good in the world if people didn’t know who she was anymore. They ruled her death out as suicide and the hardest part of it all was having to watch her family and friends bury an empty coffin six feet under the ground.

Now she was in Italy, a mission she thought would probably go great and all until it all went to shit. she had been sitting near the lawyers office waiting for her signal to hack into the lawyers but one had different plans afterwards when told no

“Please tell me she’s stopped bleeding? I’d like to keep this car clean and pristine, and hopefully keep it” six asked looking into his rearview mirror

“That’s impossible five is trying her hardest to get the bullet out but it isn’t working. Have you seen how surgeries go? I’m sure there’s going to be blood everywhere. Also you’re not keeping the car, you’re going to need to get rid of it”

“we’re going to need a hospital” five said

“it’s getting a little intense in here don’t you think?” one asked everyone causing the women to glare at him

“Where did the other guys come from?” two asked loading her gun

“i told you down from the room you and one were in. they haven’t updated their shit in a long time they must’ve added new rooms” 

“i was talking to one”

“i was covering the door. You were shot from a window”

Zero couldn’t focus on whatever else was happening and decided to look for the other members of her team before putting herself back into the conversation

“It’s true. That lawyer has had guards since he graduated and began working. I fucking told you guys this already.” “Well some people don’t listen” two grits through her teeth

“All that matters is that we got this phone, zero here. Do your little penelope garcia hacker thing”

Zero took the phone from him and began doing her thing. When she plugged his phone into her laptop, she began typing away to try and unlock it. It was too encrypted for her though she had managed to get past the first part of the security system that was keeping her locked out. What she didn’t know was that she also need an eye verification and pictures wouldn’t do it justice unless she had a program that can easily make a 3d model of it

“Please tell me one of you have a device that can make a 3D eye because i truly need it to get past the second part of this wack ass security system” zero had asked not tearing her eyes away from her laptop

“No but we do have something better” two told her trying to ignore the pain she was going through 

“Hey six, you wanna you know, drive faster? Because i think they got us” one asked him sarcastically as more guards pulled up next to them

“Yeah hold on to something” six told them pressing on the gas causing them to almost collide with the busy traffic ahead of  almost crashing and causing multiple crashes and explosions

“i feel like i’m going to throw up” zero said holding her head and trying to convince herself she’s fine

“Me too.”

“What the fuck did you guys do in there anyways? Why are you covered in blood?”

“The head, neck, and face are very vascular so it’s a lot of blood.” “We know basic anatomy one”

“Are you telling me you killed a mafia guy? In italy?” zero asked him leaning over the seat ready to kill him

“I didn’t. Two did. Anyways you should know what his client did”

“I do, I'm the one who told you his shit.”

“Everyone just shut up for one second there’s a BMW chasing us” five yelled

“Is now a bad time to tell you that we have a helicopter on our tail but don’t worry i’m trying to intercept their signal with some Italian children’s tv”

Six continued to drive, while one kept looking out the window praying to god that the mission doesn’t end entirely more fucked up than it already is. Two was under intense amount of pain as five kept digging into her to find the bullet that was inside her 

“Can i just take a moment to thank you? There is nothing else I’d rather being doing with my life”

“I don’t care”

“Hey be nice. If it weren’t for you we wouldn’t be in this shit show right now” five said not looking up

Six made a turn that caused him to think fast and steer the wheel and almost hit a truck that drove against them before it hit one of the BMW that was chasing them. They continued their course on trying to get away before six had almost hit a group of nuns who didn’t so easily forgive him and then hitting a pedestrian on accident claiming he had the right of way. Five was getting annoyed with him while she tried to fix two and zero closed her eyes to prevent herself from throwing up. She was good at reading and driving but in this case, a high speed car chase, it wasn’t agreeing with her and felt like everything she had since being in italy was going to come up from her

“Nice call on the Day-Glo green. It blends right into the Italian architecture”

“Is it too flashy? You don’t like the color?”

“SIX WATCH THE FUCK OUT”

“BABY, BABY BABY!”

“PUPPIES” everyone yelled out at once as six swerved around almost hitting a few dogs, a woman and her baby, and other civilians as they all ran away. They continued the chase until this time someone on a motorcycle started to chase them

“Oh no he’s got a gun”

“Move, zero duck” two told the two women with her and she started to shoot

“She okay?” one asked about two current state

“She’s lost a shit ton of blood”

“This isn’t a shit ton”

“I am the judge of what’s shit ton. You see? Blood. Red.” five told her showing the bloody rags from trying to stop the bleeding

“I can hear it pumping out, please staunch it or whatever you call it” one asked as soon as blood squirted onto five’s face and two yelling in pain. As it happened everyone groaned in disgust as zero tried to move her stuff away to prevent anything from getting messed up. She had managed to dig up more information about the generals and what they were planning to do. Zero continued to listen to her team's bickering as six tried to avoid hitting people on Vespa's. 

“I’m starting to feel it” six said swerving and making a turn

“I’m feeling fucking carsick. Now i know how zero feels”

Zero smiled to herself as she got up a map of the city to hide themselves in for a bit so she can continue in peace using the eye two had cut out 

“One for four?”

“Yeah, go for four”

“We need you”

“‘course you need me. I’m here”

“Remind me where the fuck is “here”?” six asked looking around

““Here” here. Like here?”

“Specificity please?” one said annoyed 

Zero had looked out the window and found where he was talking about 

“Here. right fucking here!” he yelled out to the sky 

“He’s at the top of the Duomo” 

“Top of the Duomo, like we talked about. Look up” four and zero had said at the same time. This caused everyone to look at her with a questioning look

“What he said it in the meeting after one said for him to do his thing and plus i saw someone on top of it and he’s the only person insane enough to do that shit”

“Exactly sweetheart” he said smirking as she turned red as one looked through the rearview mirror

Six continued to drive seeing as they were being chased leaving four behind and having to detour. Zero never understood four and how he wasn’t scared doing stuff like that. She never really got to have a proper conversation with him before too.

“So some good news and bad news. I’ve managed to change the channels so instead of watching us being chased and shit, but the helicopters are still onto us”

“Well this will be a day for the history books”

“Hey guys. ‘M coming north. Down on Via de..Via de... There’s so many fucking vias in Italy”

“Should’ve brushed up on your Italian architecture before deciding to climb it” zero told him

“Well maybe you could give me a layout of Italy and i’ll show what i know” 

“Uh guys i know you’re horny and all but now’s not exactly the time” one told them as four and zero turned red not meaning for it to sound that dirty

The group had managed to go the wrong way and miss four again leaving him behind causing them to think of another plan quick

“Round the corner. That’s it, keep coming, keep coming.” he said before cutting the rope and letting the poles let loose

“One i’m going to need that fucking eye now if you want this shit!” zero had yelled

One grabbed the eye out of his pocket and put it in view so everyone could see it. Six groaned in disgust

“Who knew the optic nerve was so long? Surprised his asshole didn’t come with it. This isn’t going to work. Pull over” he said as six hit something causing it to leave one’s fingers before giving it to zero

“He’s right there’s an empty alley up on this next turn” zero yelled

As soon as the eye left one’s fingers it landed under six’s feet causing him to yell 

“Don’t you fucking squish it!”

“Fucking grab it!”

“You squish it, the mission’s over!” zero yelled. It wasn’t entirely true seeing how she could somehow manipulate it but she needed the real thing. Four overheard everything and all the yelling and commented on how everything was stressful

“can you guys just stop arguing, we need to get this shit done”

“tell that to six and his driving that caused the eye to fall”

Six pulled over to the alley and one handed the eye over to zero waiting for her to download everything from the phone into the computer.

“Who’s eye is that?”

“It’s the lawyers”

“Did you scoop it out or-”

“God, no! I didn’t scoop it out, two did” one told him as two hit her head against the door in pain

“Almost there. Don’t worry.”

“All of rovach’s transmissions are going to lead us straight to the four generals in less than 30 seconds now.”

“I’m getting lightheaded”

“You’re not the one holding it” zero had said glaring at him

“guys? cops are looking right at us” five warned looking back

“Don’t you dare move your foot off that brake or i swear to god”

As the information finished downloading and zero had thrown the eye back to one and yelled at six to go while trying to read about the four generals and where they could find them

“Zero, please tell me you can lose that police chopper?” four asked

“On it. While we’re at it, one? Now’s a good time to get three”

At this point four had started to leave again to find three, who was sitting in a truck trying to learn Italian waiting for his cue. six and zero worked together to try to lose the chopper. They both had a plan in mind but they knew one wasn’t going to like it. As six continued to drive, they began shooting at the team again causing one to yell at two to shoot. Two was already frustrated seeing that she was getting operated on and trying to shoot back wasn’t comfortable especially if she had to turn around. How they were all still alive was beyond zero’s thoughts right now.

“I’ve got a plan but i don’t think you’re going to like it.” zero said ducking avoiding bullets that were going through the car at the moment

“anything’s better than this right now” one told her back

“Well it involves the Uffizi”

“Fuck, no”

‘Yeah, the museum next to where we got those mochaccinos” six interrupted knowing what zero thought of

“I remember the mochaccinos! i’m saying fuck, no!” one yelled back at the both of them

They ignored what one had told them and went into the direction of the Uffizi as six turned the radio on to calm down. One didn’t appreciate it though and ripped the radio and threw it out. At this point everyone’s blood pressure had risen and they were all bound to do meditation soon if they didn’t calm down. as they entered the Uffizi entrance they knew that their faces were going to be on the news everywhere if they didn’t work fast so zero could erase everything.

“You said whatever i needed to do, right? so, i’m just gonna do it.” six said backing up before putting it back in drive

“i can’t believe i died for this shit”

“i’m not exactly that religious so if anyone needs me i’m going to be praying” zero said trying keep her vomit down

Six had driven into the museum, trying to avoid all the statues and art while having way too much fun. He managed to destroy a few statues and  Zero was holding onto the door praying that she will get to have an Italian getaway or just any getaway that didn’t involve them ruining anything. when she opened her eyes, she found them in front of the statue of David. they drove off as soon as three called them to tell them about two black suburban's coming their way and four telling them he’s going to them on his skateboard before hitting them with a grenade and six commenting that they’ve got a superhero on the squad. 

Entering what looked like under a bridge, zero knew this would end here as two yelled at one about not having anymore bullets in French

“i don’t speak that” one said scared

“shit’s about to get crazy” six commented

“NOW?!? I’m conducting surgery!” five yelled 

“i’m trying to lose a thousand cars”

“She’s going to die, you know?”

“you can live for days with a gunshot wound in the stomach. She’ll be fine”

Five had started to yell at one in Spanish as soon as he said that asking if he was suddenly the doctor

“I don’t speak that either”

“Two ran out of bullets and five was asking are you suddenly a doctor”

“Yeah thanks for the input Duolingo. Up top!” one yelled at zero and six as he hit another guy with the car

Five went back to being quiet as zero looked over to see that she had gotten the bullet out of two. “Oh that feels so much better”

six continued to drive as one praised his driving before they were getting shot at in the front making it impossible to see. they had pushed the windshield out of the way before six stepped on the brake causing them to swerve and get hit. when they had opened their eyes and tried to calm their breaths, they saw that six had been impaled by a rod. zero felt sick to her stomach and climbed out of the car before the rest got out. Three and four had stopped as well before they saw zero on the ground crying and shaking before seeing what happened. 

“where’s-” four asked before seeing six’s state and going back to help five and two

one picked zero up and tried to carry her body to where the others were. he knew how much six meant to her and made sure he was somewhere he would feel at peace no matter how he was.

“c’mon, do this for him. he wouldn’t want to see you like this” one whispered to her making sure no one heard him

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

New Hope - Eliot x Reader drabble/one-shot

A/N: Okay, so I’m re-watching Leverage and I just wrapped season 2 where Nate is arrested and the angsty idea of his daughter being part of the team and losing him came to me so I started writing that and then the rest just sorta happened. Basically a drabble that turned into an unplanned one-shot I’m not entirely sure I like. I feel like I should give it additional parts but y’all can decide that. I also have another Eliot angst/fluff I’m almost done with and about 2-3 one-shots/multi fic ideas for Eliot I’m trying to organize.

Details: You are Nate’s daughter (either by Maggie or maybe gf/hs sweetheart before Maggie) that’s part of the team and already established gf/love of Eliot. Nate is arrested and it spirals you down, until you find something out and your life changes. Kinda sucks, please be kinda, haha. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the span of maybe two minutes, everything came to a screeching halt. Well, not quite a halt. More like trying to watching a video that was trying to load and play at the same time. Every part of your body felt heavy, heavier than you ever remember feeling. You try to focus on the situation at hand but things register too late.

Sterling, standing with cops, surrounding you and the team. Guns pointed at you. Trapped. Your dad speaking, walking to the rail. He cuffs himself to the rail. Why? What’s happening? Him and Sterling talking. What’s happening? 

“Dad? What are you doing?” You take a half step towards him, when Eliot grabs your hand to hold you back. The guns shift in your direction. 

Your dad tells the team how you’re his family and he will never forget that. None of this is computing. He’s yelling for you all to get on the helicopter. You feel Eliot tug at your arm to get you to move. It snaps you out of your haze and everything is in crystal clear focus. You pull away from Eliot and rush to your father. 

“No. No! You aren’t doing this. There’s another way.” You frantically start tugging at the handcuffs, believing if you pull it hard enough it’ll break apart and free him. You hear your teammates call your name, but ignore them still rambling. “This isn’t happening. We lost Sam. I lost Sam. I can’t lose you too. You can’t leave me. Dad, no!” 

He shifts his cuffed hand to gently and firmly grab yours, saying your name. You freeze and look up into his eyes. “Do you remember what I use to tell you when you were little?” 

“That I was your first true love, and true love is about protecting each other.” You whisper, your voice shaking. He gave you a gentle smile, his eyes softening. 

“That’s right. I couldn’t save Sam, and I’ll live with that guilt forever. But if I don’t do this to protect you, and them, I couldn’t live with myself. I love you, so much.” He leaned forward and gave your forehead a kiss. As he pulls back, he nods to Eliot to grab you. 

“Daddy.” You try to keep hold of his hand, but Eliot pries you apart and keeps a firm hold on your arms, following the rest of the team to the helicopter. Your eyes lock with Sterling as you move past him. The look you give him makes him take a side step back. You hear Eliot telling him to watch his back; Eliot will be the least of his problems. 

Then, it was like the video fully loaded and everything sped up at once. You barely remembered the flight, or the following weeks after your fathers arrest. It was a blur spent in bed, crying off and on with random bouts of anger. Sophie and Eliot spent the most time with you, trying to make you eat and stay somewhat in a routine of at least wondering around Eliot’s apartment. About a month after his arrest you tried to ease back into being with the team and wanted to help in planning his escape. Then you got sick. 

You were sitting in the bathroom in your dad’s flat, loving the cool side of the tub against your neck as you focused on breathing. A soft knock made you open your eyes a crack, seeing Eliot quietly step inside and close the door again. He grabbed a washcloth, got it damp, and sat down in front of you while holding it to your forehead. 

“How you feeling?” Every part of him showed concern. 

“Like death.” You gave a dry chuckle. “Why aren’t you sick? We’ve been eating  the same things for months.”

“Minus your comfort food,” Eliot joked. 

You rolled your eyes, “I haven’t had that in...” You trailed off trying to remember the last time you had any comfort food aka period cravings. When you realized you couldn’t give a confident answer on the last time that happened, you said the only thought you had. “Uh, oh.”

Eliot tensed, “Uh, oh? What ‘uh, oh’?” His eyes follow your hands as they settle on your stomach, his own arm dropping from your forehead. “Uh, oh.” 

One not-so-secret trip to the corner drug store (courtesy of Parker eves dropping and blabbing to everyone else in the apartment) and twenty minutes of drinking water and waiting to pee later had everyone sitting in the living room looking at the timer on your phone. Well, Eliot was pacing but everyone else was sitting. 

“Man, if this is positive Nate is gonna break out just to kill you. We might not have to do anything.” Hardison tried to joke, looking at Eliot who was far from amused. 

“Hardison I’m gonna jump over this couch and -” Eliot started before Sophie jumped in. 

“Can everyone just stop for a minute? We need to be supportive right now.” She gave them a pointed look and went back to rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

The timer went off and you couldn’t shut it off fast enough. Beyond that quick movement, you found yourself stuck to your seat. You turned and looked at Eliot, standing at your side, neither of you seemed able to move. Then you hear a huff and a flash of blonde as Parker sprints to the bathroom and comes back just as fast holding the stick. Her face is unreadable. 

“Well?” Sophie asks. 

“Negative.” Parker looks between you and Eliot. 

“Oh.” You feel your shoulders drop, processing the news. 

“That’s good, though, right? That’s what you wanted?” Hardison asked. 

“I mean, yeah. That’s the smart outcome. It’s just...” You felt tears prick at your eyes and turn towards Eliot. He sits on the arm rest and hugs you to his side. “I guess I had just assumed it was gonna be yes so I started thinking of all the memories we’d make and our life...” 

“Me too.” Eliot confessed, kissing the top of your head. 

“Well, good news then. It’s positive.” Parker’s face broke into a smile. You and Eliot’s heads snapped over to her. “I lied before. Just wanted to be sure you knew your real emotions on it.” 

You jump up and rush to grab the test from her hands. She’s still smiling like she somehow won the jackpot. “You are the craziest person I’ve ever met.” You mumble to her, but she didn’t seem remotely fazed. There it was, big and pink and plus. You look back up at Eliot and nod in confirmation. “It’s positive.”

He walked over and took the test from your hand, staring at the symbol as you had done. Then his arms wrap around you and hold you close, being as gentle as possible so you don’t get sick again. Your arms wrap around him and you start to cry and laugh at the same time. Eliot pulls back enough to see your face. 

“Those happy tears?” He looked slightly worried. When all you could do was nod and smile at him, he smiled back. Eliot put one hand on your check and moved the other to rest on your stomach, leaning down he gave you a passionate and loved filled kiss. The euphoric moment ended once you heard Parker speak yet again. 

“So what’s Nate gonna be more pissed about: Eliot getting his daughter pregnant or not knowing Sophie’s real name?” 

“Those are problems for another day. Right now, we are going to celebrate the newest member of our family!” Sophie came forward and gave you both hugs, followed by Hardison and a typical semi awkward Parker hug. 

You looked at your team, laughing and smiling. They would be there for you and Eliot and your growing baby, and that made you feel a happiness you’d been missing for the past month. Your dad was right - they are family. And you saw hope and a future for your family. You’d get your dad out and once everyone was together again, no one would be able to break them apart again. 

[suupernovalight]

Addictive Drug

Ushijima W. x Reader

Masterlist || Previous || Next

17) Bring Her Back

The air around Ushijima became cold. He couldn’t face the fact that you saved his sorry ass. Now he was all alone, neither Tendō or you could save him now.

Just when Ushijima thought that all hope was lost, he heard something from the distance. Ushijima looked up at the sky to see a familiar helicopter coming towards him.

“Tendō?” Ushijima mumbled.

When the helicopter got close enough to him, it released a rope for him to grab onto.

“Get in Ushijima!” Asami said through a microphone.

“Asami...” Ushijima said slowly getting up and grabbing the rope.

When he fully got his grasp, the rope retreated back into the helicopter so Ushijima could climb in. When Ushijima got fully on the helicopter, he saw who was driving it.

“Asami what are you thinking?” Ushijima asked while sitting down.

“Don’t worry, the boss let me do this. I’m basically in for Satori” Asami smiled. “So what happened?”

Ushijima sighed. “Me and Y/n were in a battle and I got into a bad situation so to save me she went with Hayashi and Tadashi on a helicopter. I lost her... I lost y/n”

“No you didn’t.” Asami cut in. “You didn’t loose her, you’re just giving up on her.”

Ushijima looked up from the ground. “What do you mean”

Asami took off her headset nd looked back at Ushijima. “You’re giving up on your partner.”

Ushijima frowned. It was true, he lost all hope in the moment when you left.

“You love her... don’t you?” Asami blurted.

Ushijima slightly tensed up. His face was slowly flushing up but he didn’t pay attention. “I...”

“Ive been watching you Ushijima. You can’t hide it.” Asami laughed. “Satori even told me how weird you act around Y/n. She might not notice it but we do.”

Ushijima looked out of the window. He tried to recognize his feelings ever since he first saw you at the modeling place. That’s where it all started, he just couldn’t identify what his feelings were.

“You don’t want her gone do you? You’re such a loser for giving up on her. If you loved her so much you would go after her... won’t you?” Asami asked.

Ushijima stayed quiet. He actually did love you. Back at the agency when you asked if what he said was true... he hesitated. He didn’t know how to convey his feelings to you.

“Won’t you Ushijima?” Asami repeated a little louder, making him snap out of his thoughts.

Ushijima nodded. “I love her. I love her so much it hurts. I will go after her so please... help me here”

Asami smiled with satisfaction. “I knew it. Yeah I’ll help you, how did they get away?”

“They used a helicopter. From what I can remember it was a dark black one with some splatters of green.” Ushijima informed.

“I see, I’ll see if my helicopter can pick up any other helicopters with this signal, please be patient” Asami said pressing a few buttons.

Ushijima nodded and looked at his wounds from when he fought Tadashi. There were some scratches and cut here and there. Ushijima also had a cut on his forehead.

“Since when could you handle a helicopter?” Ushijima asked.

“Oh please, I’m much more than a science freak y’know” Asami said with some hint of pride.

“I see.” Ushijima smiled. “I’m glad you came.”

“Hey this is for all of us” Asami said putting back on her headset.

Ushijima nodded and waited for what Asami had to report back. A few beeping noises were heard from whatever she was doing. When the beeping noises increased in pace rapidly, Asami looked at Ushijima with glee.

“I picked up another helicopter, they are almost out of a radar though so we better hurry” Asami said getting ready to fly the helicopter. “Hold on” she smiled.

Suddenly the helicopter flew away from the building and to wherever Hayashi’s helicopter was.

Meanwhile

“Fly away faster” Hayashi ordered to the person flying his helicopter.

“Yes sir!” The man said with a bit of stutter.

Hayashi cracked his knuckles then looked at Tadashi who was slowly putting your knocked out state on the ground.

“Look how peaceful she looks” Tadashi blushed.

Hayashi rolled his eyes and looked outside. “Tadashi. Stop being blinded by your love and come help me make sure nobody is following us.”

Tadashi nodded and walked towards Hayashi. While checking out if they were being followed, Tadashi noticed something from the corner of his eye.

“Police Helicopters... they found us.” he said grabbing his gun.

“Tadashi don’t be stupid. Use the rocket launcher we have” Hayashi said pointing at it.

Tadashi smirked and grabbed the rocket launcher instead. He then looked out to fire them towards the police helicopters.

“Die you pieces of shit” Tadashi whispered shooting the rocket launcher.

While Tadashi was doing that, Hayashi went to take a look at you. When he was looking at you, he decided to wrap your gun wound with nearby cloth he had on by.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way y/n.” Hayashi said finishing wrapping you up.

He then walked away to check on Tadashi. Tadashi was just blowing up the helicopters like a maniac. Honestly Hayashi couldn’t complain.

“I’ve finished shooting them up Hayashi” Tadashi smiled putting the launcher away. “Now what?”

Hayashi checked his watch, he then looked back at him. “We are almost there. I also see nobody chasing us so we are clear.”

“Wonderful” Tadashi said dancing around the helicopter. “Geez who would have thoigh this would be a Misson success huh Yashi?”

“Don’t call me that.” Hayashi groaned. “When we get back, make sure you chain her up.” He said pointing at your sleeping state.

Tadashi nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.”

“Alright then.” Hayashi said rolling his eyes.

Ushijima and Asami

While Ushijima was sitting down thinking about nothing but you, his phone rang. When he went to pick it up, he heard the voice of his friend.

“Satori?” Ushijima said smiling a bit. “Hey are you okay?”

Tendō chuckled. “I should be asking you the same thing. Asami told me what happened.”

Ushijima looked at Asami, who was trying to hide her smile, then back at his phone. “Of course she did...”

“Do you have any clue where y/n is?” Tendō asked his friend.

“Nope. It’s all my fault though” Ushijima sighed. “If I was just stronger, maybe she wouldn’t have had went with Hayashi and Tadashi.”

“Oh you mean the man behind the drugs?” Tendō said.

“Yup.”

After a few seconds of silence, Tendō broke it. “You will get her back. She’s strong, I’m sure she has a plan in her mind.”

“Satori she got shot and knocked out by that horrible man.” Ushijima’s clenched his open hand into a fist. “I fucking let that happen too.”

“Hey. It’s okay Ushijima. You and Asami are gonna get her back and probably arrest those drug dealers. I believe in all of you.” Tendō then hung up.

Ushijima was left with nothing but determination now. He really wants to save you.

“Hang tight y/n.” Ushijima said while looking at the sky.

At The Lair

When Hayashi’s helicopter landed at the secret lair, he quickly had you escorted to the place where you will be held.

He then looked towards the people who work for him and ordered them to guard the front door. While that was happening, he went to go help Tadashi out.

Tadashi, being as quick as he is already started chaining you down so when you wake up you couldn’t move.

“Is she awake?” Hayashi asked Tadashi.

Tadashi scoffed. “Of course not. You knocked her out pretty hard.”

“Sorry bout that. She might have done something unpredictable” Hayashi sweatdropped.

Tadashi ignored Hayashi and put all of his focus on you. “Oh y/n... such a beauty.” He then put his hand on your cheek. “Soon we will be together, just the two of us...”

“Tadashi stop talking to nothing and help me out” Hayashi yelled.

Tadashi quickly left you alone and ran to Hayashi. As they left the room, you slightly moved. You weren’t awake the whole time. You actually woke up right when Tadashi was finished chaining you up.

Sadly, you could talk as much and the pain was just unbearable to deal with. As more pain surrounded you, you couldn’t do anything but just hang there, hopeless. The only person on your mind was Ushijima.

Asami and Ushijima

After being in the air for awhile, Asami started to get a new signal.

“Ushijima... I think we found them.” Asami said checking out her window.

Ushijima quickly stood up and looked out his window. Under them was another helicopter, the same one Ushijima saw awhile ago. He also saw a bunch of people guarding the entrance of the whole place.

“Don’t land to close, we gotta get in and get y/n. That’s our main goal.” Ushijima said loading his guns.

“Yes sir.” Asami said landing the helicopter not to far away.

As Asami was doing that, Ushijima looked up at the sky one last time.

“Hang tight y/n. For me.” He whispered.

Taglist:

@toaster-stick @ashydoesdumbstuff

[princesssarcastia]

yes, ghosts CAN time travel, actually, don’t be such a Richard, Klaus

titled “frozen time between hearses and caskets” in my fic folder, aka idea #3 from my poll two weeks ago on which Umbrella Academy Season 2 fic I should write.  vague vibes also from this poem which I adore; “I AM TIRED OF RE-WRITING TRAGEDY WITHOUT CHANGE. LET THEM LIVE. LET THEM LEARN. LET THEM LOVE.”  Because let people grow, goddammit.

this mess to follow is dedicated to @levhach, the only respondent to my poll.  I hope you enjoy!  also dedicated to Klaus’ genuine kindness and empathy for others in season 1, may it rest in peace.

                                        —————————

“Well, unfortunately, ghosts can’t time travel,” Klaus says, playing at exasperated and put-upon.

“Klaus, don’t be an asshole,” Ben intones from the corner of the room, but Klaus can hear the edge of desperation in his voice. 

It’s been years since either of them could even lay eyes on their siblings, let alone speak to them. When Allison appeared at the edge of that pool, it was like heroin; that kind of emotional high could be addictive, if he let it, and he would know.  Seeing and being seen are kind of important, apparently.

Nobody ever sees Ben but Klaus.

Except for three years ago, in Vanya’s theater.

Klaus heaves a sigh, letting his shoulders rise and fall.  “Oh, fine, you big baby.” He throws up his hands as they take on a distinctly blue hue.

And the whole room…stops.

“Ben,” someone says, or maybe they all say it, and then Diego is in front of their dead teenaged brother and clutching desperately at his stupid leather jacket, and Ben is clutching back and crying. 

He sighs again, for real this time, and lets them have this moment.  Even Five seems swept up in the emotion of it all, hovering just on the edge of the crowd with his hands stuffed in his pockets and a constipated look on his face.

“So that’s our brother?” Vanya says from right behind him, jesus christ!

“God, we should have put a bell on you,” Klaus says.  “Yeah, that’s Ben.”

“Ben,” Vanya draws out his name, like she’s trying it out, and Klaus glances back at her.  There’s a hint of some je ne sais quoi, a glimmer of confused grief, in her eyes—like she wants to cry with no idea why, or how.

Vanya, who got teary when they stepped on ants as kids, went berserk and killed the whole world…and then conveniently forgot all about it.  Hmm. Klaus has some ideas about that, personally, but he sees no need to share with the class; in his experience, people will remember terrible shit in their own time.  Trying to force it will only set her off again.

Plus, he’s not nearly drunk enough for that conversation, even after a morning of margaritas with Allison, who’s turned into a wonderful enabler.

Ben finds him briefly from the center of their little gaggle of siblings, seemingly content with more attention than he’s had in decades.

“I missed you all,” he hears Ben say, and watches their dead brother look at Vanya with grief that isn’t confused at all.

—

They stumble out of Allison’s house, away from her lovely husband—really, Klaus can’t even begin to explain how hard it is to find a partner willing to hide a body for you—and straight into the car Klaus sped over here in.  Diego, of course, insists on driving, but Allison is still upset over Raymond and Klaus can’t be bothered, so it works out.

Ben calls shotgun and Klaus automatically pulls Allison into the backseat with him.

“I just,” Allison clears her throat, “Vanya?”

“Again?  What are the odds, am I right?”  Klaus jibes, and flinches dramatically away from Allison when she elbows him.

“Last time, it was Luther and the rest of you morons that set her off.  But none of us have seen her since she left after the dinner from hell, so it couldn’t have been one of us.”

“What is she even doing in the federal building in the first place?”  Ben asks.

Klaus hums, “good point, Ben,” and relays it to the others.

He can hear the leather steering wheel creak as Diego tightens his grip.  “I don’t—I’m not sure, I was moving pretty quickly to avoid getting caught at Headquarters.”

“But?”  Allison prompts when he doesn’t continue.

“But,” Diego’s jaw tightens, “I think she got arrested.  By the FBI?”

“The FBI?” Klaus screws up his face.  “Who the hell—Allison, did you get her involved with the SJCC in the, what, ten minutes we were all together?”

“No, no I didn’t.  But…I mean, someone named Vanya with memory loss in 1963 when the president is in town…” Allison trails off, like the words she emphasized will make some sort of sense when put together.

“They think she’s a communist spy,” Diego says flatly.

“Oh!”  Klaus exclaims.  “Oh,” he repeats, when that sinks in.  “Oh, that—that won’t be good.”

“No, it won’t,” Ben agrees.

Silence fills the car like Agent Orange, and Klaus is just choking on all the implications.

—

His ears haven’t rung like this since helicopters and machine guns and Dave and medic!  I need a fucking medic!, but Klaus foists the memory back into the arms of his subconscious because now’s not the time for a panic attack, goddammit. 

Allison and Diego are saying something, but he can’t quite hear them; it’s hard to focus with wave after wave of energy flowing into him and into him, into that terrible void he doesn’t like to think about and in fact has spent his whole life drowning out. The energy Vanya is pulsating through the federal building feels like nails on the chalkboard of his soul. 

“Question, guys,” he interrupts, “Who are we trying to save Vanya from, again?”

“The FBI,” Diego, Allison, and Ben all say together, and in the same you’re-an-idiot-Klaus tone of voice, too, isn’t that adorable.

Joke’s on them, he’s about to say something relevant. “But if they’re all sucking ceiling right now, why hasn’t she stopped?”

All the bodies scattered about with their eyes burnt out of their skulls is a pretty graphic kind of horrific, even for Klaus, who’s seen pretty much every kind of dead body there is.

Actually…

Klaus waves to get Ben’s attention.  The others turn to look at him and Klaus ignores them.  “Why aren’t there any ghosts?” He shouts, hands still tight around his ears.

Not Ben, though.  He’s just standing there, arms at his sides, like Vanya’s energy isn’t on quite the same wavelength for him as it is for the rest of them.  “I don’t,” he frowns, “yeah, that is weird.  Can’t you feel that, though?”

Klaus hesitates, then nods back, refusing to explain to Allison and Diego when they make encouraging gestures.  There’s no way to articulate it to them, anyway, not in time for them to understand what it means that Vanya can affect his connection with Ben.  That Vanya can, apparently, banish the other ghosts, the ones Klaus isn’t anchoring here in the land of the living.

Pressure is building in too-tight air, like a balloon pushed to the brink of bursting.  According to Diego, Vanya will defrost the Cold War in another fifteen, maybe twenty minutes or so. 

“Can Ben go find out what’s going on with her, then?”  Diego shouts at him, and Klaus looks at Ben, who nods and strolls down the hallway more easily than they could, but it feels…weird.  Something in his chest tightens, in that same place Vanya’s reaching and Klaus doesn’t like to be aware of it the way he’s forced to be right now.

God, he wants a drink.

It takes almost five minutes for Ben to get there and back, and Klaus feels the blood drain out of his face when he gets a look at Ben’s expression.

“They hooked her up to some kind of generator.  Klaus, the readout says it’s up to a thousand volts,” Ben says quickly.  “She’s seizing pretty violently; I don’t think she even knows what she’s doing.”

Klaus lets out a blistering string of curses, the kind Sarge would be proud of—come to think of it, Klaus probably learned it from Sarge. 

“What, what is it?” Allison shouts, leaning in and trying to look where he’s looking, where Ben stands, intangible and desperate.

“They’re torturing her!” Klaus shouts back.

“So, this is some kind of defense mechanism?” Diego adds his two cents, though Klaus doesn’t think the what of this is really relevant right now.

“We have to go turn it off,” Klaus darts to look at Allison and Diego and then back at Ben.  Pressure keeps building in his ears, against his skin, in his brain, in his soul.  How the hell are we going to get back there?  He’s pretty sure they won’t even be able to stand, let alone walk a hundred and fifty feet.  They’ll pop like grapes before they reach the halfway point.

Allison and Diego are shouting something else, now, but it doesn’t matter, because Klaus is looking at Ben and Ben is looking at him and Vanya is reaching that point inside him that anchors Ben, even from all the way back here, and Vanya’s going to blow up this building with them inside it and start World War III and they can’t reach her but Ben can.

Ben can.

He shivers.

Seventeen plus years together means Klaus knows exactly what Ben is thinking, because he’s thinking it, too.

“Are you sure?” He leans into Ben’s space, and Ben crouches down so they’re eye to eye.

“I’m sure,” Ben says easily, like this is easy, god, what a prick.

Something twists in his chest, and he can’t tell if it’s Vanya or his own stupid feelings.  “No take-back-sies this time, mein bruder. If we do this—”

“We?” Ben raises his eyebrows and smirks.

“Oh, please, this is at least forty percent me and you know it,” Klaus narrows his eyes petulantly. 

His brother shifts weight he doesn’t have back onto his heels, freeing his hands to rise in front of him, palms toward Klaus.  “You remember the first time we tried this?”

“We?” Klaus mocks, but takes his own hands off his ears and presses them into Ben’s, letting that peculiar shade of blue envelop both their hands.  Not quite visible, not quite tangible, but it’s power.  Parts of Klaus flow into Ben like Vanya’s energy waves are crashing into everything around him, twining with the anchor between them until it’s a constant stream Ben can feed off of.

He sucks in a shuddery breath and blows out a shaky one.  Allison and Diego are staring at him, wide-eyed, but he keeps ignoring them in favor of Ben.

“Do you think she’ll remember me this time?” Ben asks, smiling at him in that soft way Klaus thought they’d agreed to stop doing years ago.  Rude!

Oh, what the hell. 

Klaus quirks a real smile at Ben and squeezes his hands.  “She’d better.”

—

“I remember everything.”

“Tell Klaus something for me, would you?”

—

fin.

[quiet-onset]

In The Wind

Pairing: Steve Rogers x black!Reader

TW: alcohol consumption, implied sexy times, a pinch of fluff and a fuck ton of angst

Word Count: 10.2k (this is the longest single fic I’ve ever written by like 4-5k words, i'm never doing this again lmao)

A/N: Broke = cacw discourse, Woke = using cacw canon to write angsty fics at 3 am. this is only kind of edited so it is what it is lol. Enjoy!

You weren’t sure if you regretted meeting him.

You didn’t know how you felt anymore. You knew you thought of him everyday. You knew that you longed to feel the warmth and heaviness of his body against yours. You also knew that you were angry, so damn angry for making you feel these things. For making you miss him, want him.

But did you regret him? You weren’t sure. 

The first time you met shouldn’t have happened. Steve knew that. He should’ve been more careful. Checked more security cameras, spied a little better. But espionage was always Natasha’s expertise, and, for now, he was running it solo. So when he ran from the FBI in Hell’s Kitchen, he had no one to blame but himself. 

He had been jumping from roof to roof, dreading the sound of the approaching helicopter. He knew if they got that spotlight on him, it’d be over. So, instead of jumping to the next roof, he dropped onto the fire escape, traveling down until he found an open window. 

He climbed inside and pressed himself to the adjacent wall, heart pounding against his ribcage. He listened as the helicopter continued on, searching for him with no success. Just as he allowed himself to breathe, he heard the cock of a gun. 

When he turned his head, there you stood, curls tied up with a blue silk scarf, shorts and a T-shirt two sizes too big, with a shotgun aimed and ready to fire. “Get out of my house.”

Steve took a step toward you, watching as you steadied your hand. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m the one with the gun here, dude. So, unless you want a chest full of buckshot, get—“

Finally, you saw him clearly. His hair was a tad longer and he had the slightest bit of stubble, but he was still recognizably Steve Rogers. After all, the news had his and his friends mugshots plastered on every channel. You barely managed to part your lips for a gasp when Steve heard the thunder of footsteps come down the hall outside your door.

“Look,” He said, “I’m sorry, I just needed—“

Three solid bangs on your front door. “FBI, open up!”

You lowered the gun as you looked back at Steve. It was clear that he was trying and failing to come up with a new route of escape. Three more bangs, and you sighed. “One second!” You called.

You handed him the gun and quickly guided him to your bedroom. “Get under the bed and wait.”

He followed your instructions while you grabbed your robe and scurried to the door. You swung the door open as you brushed a stray curl away from your face. “Can I help you?”

Two men pushed past you and into your apartment as the first one spoke. “We need to inspect your apartment.”

“Do you have a warrant?”

“Are you hiding something?” He returned.

“Asking for a warrant isn’t an admission of guilt, agent.” You raised a brow. “Besides, what would the FBI be looking for here?”

“Steven Grant Rogers.” He eyed your living room suspiciously before continuing down the hall, leaving you to follow close behind. 

“Captain America?” You snorted. “What would he be doing in some random woman’s apartment in Hell’s Kitchen?”

“You tell me.”

He walked into your bedroom, and your heartbeat sped up. You had no idea why you were putting yourself at risk for a stranger, but somehow, it felt right. Like you were doing what you were meant to be doing in that moment.

“Agent, I am not hiding Captain America in my fucking bedroom. Alright? I was getting ready for bed, actually, when you banged on my door like I was the one being arrested.”

He walked up to you, invading your space. He looked down at you, tried to make you feel small. It was a popular tactic, one you were used to. You watched as the other two agents came in and began to search. “We have orders to search every apartment. If you don’t want to cooperate, we can arrest you, too. Ma’am.” 

“This might be news to you, but I have rights, same as you. You need a warrant to search my house unless I’m an immediate danger to the public.” You told him. “However, considering you’ve already searched my entire home, I suggest you leave now while I’m still thinking about not suing you.”

“Suing us?” He chuckled.

“I have some lawyer friends, same ones that put Wilson Fisk in jail. If they can get a life sentence for a man like Fisk, imagine what they could do with this story. Agent.”

You watched as they all stopped, including the agent who was just about to bend over to look under the bed. The agent’s brow twitched as he stepped back and gave you an indignant look. “That’s what I thought.” You said. “Feel free to come back with a warrant.”

Moments later, your front door was locked, and you went back to your room where Steve sat on your bed. You almost winced when you saw him in the light. His right eye was beginning to swell, his lip was split, and his leg looked like he needed stitches. He placed the shotgun beside him. “Do you really know the lawyers who took down Wilson Fisk?”

“Not at all.”

He chuckled and stood on his feet. You knew he was trying not to put too much pressure on his leg, but his scrunched brow told you he was failing. When he managed to steady himself, he saw the shine of concern in your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Super soldier healing. I’ll be fine.”

“Let me help you.”

“You’ve done enough for me already.” He told you. “I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“Easy?”

“I’m an Avenger, but I’m not blind.” He said sincerely. “America’s fucked up, and anyone who’s not white or rich gets the short end of the stick.”

You paused, surprised that he’d explained himself so outright. He seemed unapologetic about his statement, eyes only wavering when the pain became too much. A sigh with the faintest remnants of a smile passed through your lips. You walked a few steps over to your dresser and pulled open your drawer. Out of it, you pulled a bottle of whiskey and a first aid kit. “I’m already abetting a fugitive, Rogers. Might as well add aiding to the crime. Sit down. I’ll get some ice for your eye.”

Steve usually didn’t take well to orders. But you, you made something in him stir, if only for a moment. Some part of him that longed for someone else to take over. To make him forget about being an alleged criminal, about the friends that he’d lost. The part of himself that he’d lost. 

So he sat down.

When you came back, you began tending to his wounds. Your hands were delicate as you tried your best not to cause him any additional pain. He almost chuckled at your caution and grace. In some dark part of his mind, he knew the damage he could cause you. Yet, you were the one asking every other second if he was okay.

“You know you don’t have to do all of this.” He said.

“I didn’t have to not shoot you either, but here we are.” You answered, tilting your head. You handed him the bottle of whiskey as you got ready to stitch the wound in his thigh. “You might wanna drink some of that.”

He chuckled, “Alcohol doesn’t really do anything for my senses.”

“Right. Super soldier, I forgot. Guess you’ll have to brave it.” 

“Not the first time.” He let out a small hiss as you moved the fabric away from the cut.

Your eyes flickered up to him for a moment, catching the clench of his jaw, sharp and tense. “So you sneak into people’s houses to hide from the FBI often?”

“I was, um, handling some business in Hell’s Kitchen. Wasn’t paying attention, and they found me.”

“Wow. Steve Rogers outsmarted by the FBI.” You joked. He chuckled along with you as you finished stitching him up. You offered him the bottle once more. “It won’t get you drunk, but it’ll burn on the way down, and I have a feeling that’s what you really need.”

He looked taken aback for a moment. You imagined that not many people were so straightforward with him. He was called Captain for a reason, you supposed. Not many people told Steve what he needed to hear — that was why the Avengers was perfect for him. Nobody was afraid to tell Steve how it really was. But now, with him being a fugitive, lots of people were scared. Of him or of what he represented, he wasn’t sure.

But not you.

He took the bottle with a small smile.

“Well,” Steve spoke when the silence got a bit too loud for his liking. “I should be going. If that agent’s attitude was any indication, they’ll probably be back with a warrant. That’ll give you some time to get rid of the evidence.”

“Evidence?”

“My blood?” He chuckled.

You looked down at your hands and saw the faint tint of blood on them. You let out a short laugh and nodded, “Right.”

The way you looked at each other was far too comfortable for two strangers. Each set of eyes held a story. The ever-stretching line of inconceivable loss in his and the struggle to overcome social hardships in yours. Both your hearts were hardened in some ways, and you could both sense it. When it became too much, your gaze flickered to the ground for a quick moment. “Don’t pull those stitches, Captain. I won’t redo them.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said with a weak salute. “Thank you.”

“Just don’t get caught.”

The next afternoon, the FBI would return with a warrant and search your apartment as you watched the news. The headline?

Captain America in the wind once more.

---

“I’ll be fine.” You slurred to your friend. “I can get upstairs just fine.”

Your friend, Heather, shot you a disapproving gaze as you hiccuped, the alcohol in your body starting to slowly wear off. She unlocked the car door with a sigh. “Text me when you’re inside.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not moving until you do.” She added. “And lock your door!”

“Alright!”

Although you stumbled up the stairs and eventually had to take your heels off, you made it safely to your apartment. The text you sent as you locked the door was incoherent, but you knew your friend would understand. You dropped your heels at the door and padded into your living room.

“Your window is broken.”

You gasped at the sudden deep voice that cut through the dark, only recognizing him when he turned on the lamp. There sat Steve Rogers once more. He looked up at you with a furrowed brow, noticing your glazed over eyes. You threw your phone at him for scaring you, which he caught easily. “You can’t just break into someone’s house and sit in the dark! That’s weird!”

“I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me.” He explained quickly. He stood, “Are you drunk?”

“What’s it to you?”

“You’re drunk in an apartment with a broken window. Anyone could break in. I did.”

“Yeah, which is still weird.” You hiccuped. “What are you doing here, Captain?”

He was at a loss for words. He didn’t have an answer. Not one that made any sense, at least. He couldn’t explain the feeling, but he couldn’t forget you. Your eyes were burned into his mind, your bravery forever in his heart. He tried everything to forget you, but nothing worked. Whether it was attraction, infatuation, or some feeling that could only be expressed in another language, he didn’t know. Still, he couldn’t tell you that. Especially not while you were drunk. So he settled for, “Steve. Call me Steve.”

You paused, crossing your arms over your chest. “Alright. Steve.”

Steve felt a shiver travel down his spine. He would never admit he liked the way his name slipped past your lips. He watched you stumble over to the couch and helped you sit down. “Happy drunk or sad drunk?”

You snorted, “Both.”

“Wow, two for one.”

“I broke up with my cheating boyfriend.” You explained. “I’m happy to be rid of that asshole, but it still hurts, you know?”

Steve nodded, holding back a chuckle as you burped quietly. You groaned and threw your head back as you realized you would probably throw up soon. 

“He didn’t deserve you.” He told you.

You laughed bitterly, “I know.”

As if on cue, you stood and ran to the bathroom with Steve quick on your heels. He watched as you dropped to your knees over the toilet bowl and emptied the contents of your stomach inside. You pulled a few stray curls out of your face and held them back, praying you hadn’t gotten any vomit in your hair. You felt Steve’s presence behind you and sighed. “I’m sorry. You should… you should just go.”

But of course, Steve was never good at taking orders.

He marched up to your sink and found a few bobby pins before opening up your medicine cabinet. He found some painkillers for later and took them out for you. He quietly walked up behind you and softly cupped your hands with his own. You barely had the chance to protest before another wave of sickness washed over you.

“Let me help you.” Steve said gently. “I’m just returning the favor.”

You knew there wasn’t much you could do for yourself, and you couldn’t deny that you needed help. So you let go of your hair and allowed him to pin it back. His warm hands then fell to your shoulders as he spoke. “I’ll be right back.”

Moments later, he returned with a glass of water and some crackers he’d found in your cabinet. He sat with you on the cold tile floor, flushing the toilet as you turned away from it. He offered the glass silently, and you drank it in a few gulps. You looked over at him as he worked on opening the crackers. “You know, you’re good at this.”

He chuckled, seeing that you were starting to sober up. “You’re not the first drunk person I’ve taken care of.”

You took a cracker from the packet. “When was the first time?”

“You don’t have to humor me.”

“If I were humoring you, you’d know.” You scoffed playfully. “I want to know. At the very least, it’ll keep my mind off of the nausea.”

He shook his head with a short laugh as he took out a cracker for himself. “I was fifteen. My best friend Bucky told me he had a surprise, that I had to come over after school. I didn’t suspect anything until I saw the brown paper bag in his hands.”

“Wait, you’re, like, ninety. Isn’t this during Prohibition?”

“He always knew a guy who knew a guy.” Steve nodded with a smirk. “His parents were out of town, and his sisters only kept his secret because he let them taste it. I already had enough health problems back then, so I wasn’t really interested in getting drunk. But Bucky…”

“As drunk as me?”

“Oh no, much worse. Absolutely shit-faced.” A smile tugged at his lips as you laughed. He admired the way your glazed eyes lit up with happiness for those few mere moments. “I ended up in the bathroom with him all night.”

You smiled softly as you nibbled on another cracker. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Steve felt his chest tighten at the smile on your lips. His brain told him to stop whatever he was feeling. He had no business barging into your house, into your life. He had other things, bigger things to worry about. Yet, he sat here on the floor of your bathroom, worrying about whether you were going to vomit again or if you needed more water. It was stupid of him to let this feeling go so far, he knew. But he couldn’t help it. Not when you smiled like that.

He reached over to the sink and grabbed the painkillers, giving you two. “I’m gonna get you some more water. Keep eating those crackers.”

“Yes, sir, captain sir.” You gave him a weak salute. He saluted back with a playful chuckle before leaving to get more water, not sure if this behavior was your true self or the remaining alcohol.

When he returned, he found you clumsily taking off your makeup. “That couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” He asked, handing you the glass of water.

“No. Do you know how bad that is for your skin? I’m too pretty to damage my skin.” You chuckled before downing the pills.

Steve looked to the ground, making a quiet noise of agreement. He hadn’t expected you to stop drinking the water and ask him what he said. He was caught red-handed. “What?”

“What did you say?” You asked.

“It’s not important. I just…” He sighed. “I agreed with you. About you being pretty.”

“Oh.”

He shrugged. You’d have recognized the slight shyness in his voice if you were fully sober. “I’m not blind.”

It got quiet after that. You couldn’t help the way your mind was racing alongside your heart. The space between you both was so small. All it would take a gust of wind, a slight nudge and the space would be filled. And for some reason, you longed to fill it. As your thoughts caught up with you, you remembered that you’d just met him. He didn’t even know your name. The longing you had made no sense. Not to mention, you were still a little drunk and nauseous. You couldn’t act before you considered the outcomes. “Y/N.”

“What?” Steve’s brow furrowed.

“My name. It’s Y/N.” You stepped back and took a deep breath. “I just realized I never told you.”

“Right.” He mimicked your movements, putting a bit more distance between you. “You should get some rest.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll, um, head to bed right now.”

Steve nodded once before giving you one last long look. He told himself that this would be the last time, that he wouldn’t give in to that insistent tugging in his heart. If this was the last time he’d see you, he wanted to remember. You watched him as he walked back down the hallway, stopping just before he entered the living room.

“Fix your window, Y/N.” He called.

You smiled. “I will.”

“Someone could break in and sit in the dark.”

“I get it, Steve.”

And just as quickly as he’d arrived, he was gone. 

---

A few months pass before you see him again. And you have to be honest with yourself, you spend every second thinking about him.

You weren’t sure what it was about him. Sure, he was Captain America, but that didn’t seem to matter when he came through your window. In your apartment, he’s just a man. He’s just Steve Rogers. Sure he was on the run from every conceivable government authority, but he was running from more than that. It was like he was running from himself, from everything that made him Captain America. And without fail, all the running somehow led back to you.

It didn’t matter where you were or who you were with. At work, you’d see his smile in the reflection of your computer screen. When you were with your friends, you could hear Steve’s laughter as he recounted his childhood. Even on the few dates you’d been on, the only thing on your mind was Steve’s voice calling you pretty.

And that was the annoying part. You knew you were pretty. You knew your value and how much you were worth, but when he said it, it felt unreal. There were butterflies in your stomach, a feeling you hadn’t felt since you were a teenager. It was strange having such a visceral reaction to a statement you already knew to be true, but it wasn’t the statement. It was the man making it.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

You were walking home from a friend’s when two men in ski masks stopped you. Guns locked and loaded, they shouted at you to give them your wallet and phone. Your hands were raised in hopes that they wouldn’t shoot, but they simply yelled louder.

“Okay, okay.” You started calmly. You moved your hands slowly to your purse, digging around the bottom in a frantic search. You flinched as they told you to hurry up. 

Suddenly, a man dropped down from a nearby fire escape. Steve.

As soon as he snatched the guns, Steve crushed the barrels with his bare hands. A fist flew at one guy’s face while you grabbed the pepper spray at the bottom of your purse and sprayed the other. 

You watched as Steve kept going with a fierce look in his eyes. It was unlike anything you’d expect from Captain America. No, this was sheer rage. You marched up behind him and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him away. He only allowed it as the two men scurried away with blood dripping down their faces. 

“Steve, what the hell?” You dragged him into a nearby alley. “What are you doing out in broad daylight?”

He ignored your questions and placed two large hands on your cheeks, tilting your head this way and that as he checked you for injury. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“Steve, stop it. I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

“I was on my way to your apartment when I saw those guys trying to rob you.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why were you going to my house?” You asked. “Why do you keep coming to my house?”

And once again, Steve was speechless. He couldn’t explain the panic in his heart when he saw you being held at gunpoint. He couldn’t explain the blind rage he felt as his fists collided with their bodies. He wanted to believe he had  no idea why he kept coming back to see you, but he knew why. Despite his reputation, he was never great with his feelings. At least not these kinds. “Y/N, can we just.. Can we talk? Please?”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Meet me at my place. And try not to make another scene. You’re a fugitive, Steve.”

He’d made it there before you, but was unable to get in. See, you’d taken his advice and fixed your window. So, he stood on the fire escape, hoping to God that no one would look and see him as he waited for you. When you got back, you rushed over and flipped the latch, pushing the window up with a squeak of the frame. “Again, what are you doing here in the middle of the day?”

“You fixed your window.”

“Yeah, you told me to.” You stepped aside so he could slip in. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Y/N, they were robbing you. You don’t have to—“

“No, not that. I mean, also that, but I meant thanks for that night a few months ago.”

His head dropped as he let out a weak chuckle. “I’m surprised you remember that.”

“I remember waking up with the worst hangover. I also remember the night before.”

“Everything?”

You nodded. 

You could see the gears in his head begin to turn, giving you a moment to look over him. His beard was thick and full, and his hair was longer than before. Dressed in a black combat suit, you wondered where he just came from. He obviously had bigger fish to fry, so what kept him coming back to Hell’s Kitchen. 

Then, without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out before placing it on the table between you. 

A cell phone. Albeit a very old one, but a cell phone nonetheless. 

“I wanted to give you this.” He said, “For… emergencies.”

You stared at the phone, your brow furrowed, before looking back up at him. “Steve—“

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” His eyes were shut tight as he emptied his heart. “I don’t know why, but I can’t. No matter where I’m going or what mission I’m on, you’re always on my mind. I know it doesn’t make any sense, and I understand if it freaks you out, but I needed to tell you.”

“Steve—“

“And even if you don’t feel the same, just keep the phone. I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened and you needed to contact me but couldn’t.”

You paused as he took a deep breath, finally opening his eyes. You looked at him expectantly. “Are you done?”

“I think so.”

You silently picked up the flip phone, chuckling because it was just so Steve-like. You opened it and realized that his number was the only one programmed into the phone. You smiled softly as you raised an eyebrow, “Does it work?”

“I just—” Steve let out a short laugh of disbelief. “Yes, it works.”

Steve watched as you pressed a button and held the phone up to your ear. You looked up at the ceiling, clicking your tongue as it rang. With a grin on his lips, he dug his phone out of his other pocket and flipped it open. “Hello?”

“I like you, too, dummy.”

---

Turns out, you changed the definition of emergencies only. 

It had been four or five months since you last saw Steve. He’d spent the night after you both confessed to the feelings that you’d been repressing since the day you met. You helped him peel off the black suit he wore and showered with him. You helped him scrub off the blood that had dried into his skin, and he massaged your shoulders, tight and tense from the stress of your own life. And later, you’d both gotten into some activities that made you both need another shower. 

But now, you were alone. Your place felt so empty without him. It was only one night, yet your whole life was changed. You were acutely aware of the sound his bare feet made against the hardwood floor. The warmth of his chest against your back as you slept in bed. The low timbre of his voice when he just wakes up. 

Plus, it was the day before his birthday.

You knew how stupid that sounded. Steve Rogers was a fugitive on an international scale. He had plans to be in a different state or country practically every other week — he hardly had time to celebrate about being a year older. Yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that he deserved it. He deserved to do something as mundane as celebrate his birthday. 

So, instead of using the burner for its intended purpose — emergencies — you called him. 

And received no answer. 

You sighed and snapped the phone shut. You held the phone against your lips as you thought through a plan. When you had it all figured out, you smiled, wondering if that was how Steve felt when he finally perfected a plan. You grabbed your purse and headed to the nearest grocery. 

You strolled through the decorations aisle with your cart, stopping as you saw an employee, a teenager, removing something from the display. As you got closer, you realized what it was and frowned.

Fourth of July balloons with Steve’s shield plastered on them.

The employee saw you eyeing them and smiled gently. “Got a call from the owner himself to remove them.”

“Crazy, right?”

“Not that much.” She shrugged. “I mean, he did break the law.”

“Yeah, to do the right thing.”

“How do we know he was right, though?”

You stared at a picture of Steve’s shield and saw all it represented. Hope, justice, bravery — you couldn’t explain how you knew. You just did. “He was.” You told the kid.

The kid watched you stare aimlessly at the balloons. She wasn’t sure why you were so invested, she could tell it meant a lot to you. She pulled two packets out of the box and handed them to you.

“They were taken out of circulation so security won’t pick it up.” She explained. “Just don’t let the manager see.”

You looked over at her, not even realizing that you’d zoned out. You smiled at her and took the balloons before slyly stuffing them in your purse. “Thank you.”

Your smile returned as you gathered all your other supplies before walking over to the bakery. The man behind the counter smiled as you approached. “Last minute Fourth of July cake?”

You chuckled, “No, not Independence Day. A birthday actually.”

“What would you like on it?”

“Do you, um, do you mind decorating it with Captain America’s shield? Or maybe just red, white, and blue in general?”

The baker’s smile widened. “You’re the first person to ask for that this year. I’m glad.” He began gathering the frosting he’d need. “I don’t believe anything they say about him. He’s a good man.”

You smiled to yourself. “Yeah. The best.”

Meanwhile, Steve was in Philadelphia, trying to get some intel into Tony’s future plans. He just got back to the quinjet when Natasha called his name from the pilot seat.

“You’re never leading the mission again.” Steve teased her, touching two fingers to his split bottom lip as he stood just to the side of her seat. 

“Afraid of getting a little banged up?” She chuckled.

“More like tired of it.” He replied. “Bucky and I have been taking all the beatings lately while you and Sam somehow always manage to come out unscathed.”

“You and Bucky should do better at your jobs then.”

Steve let out a little laugh as she lifted the jet into the sky and immediately turned on the cloaking mechanism. He braced himself above her head and looked out over the clouds. “So why did you call me?”

“‘Cause somebody called you.”

“What?”

“That mysterious burner you always carry around? It rang while you were in the field.”

His eyes widened as he reached for the flip phone, seeing the ‘Missed Call’ notification glaring back at him. He turned back to Natasha, “I need you to take me back to the city.”

Her brow furrowed as he began packing a duffel bag toward the back of the jet. “What, New York?”

“Anywhere is fine. I’ll get to where I need to be.”

“Steve, we’re supposed to be headed for Switzerland in a week—“

“Then, I have a week.”

“Tony and the feds will be on our asses soon if we don’t get out of the country.”

Steve turned to look at her and saw that she’d put the jet on autopilot. She was looking right back at him in that way that she always did. If there was anything Natasha Romanoff was good at, it was knowing when someone was lying, even by omission. But Steve was no victim of her skills. He was her best friend. And that worried look in his eyes? It scared her.

Steve sighed. “There’s someone on the other end of that phone. Someone I really care about. She’s the only one with that number and I told her to call me if there’s an emergency.”

Natasha shifted her weight onto her other leg, her hands on her hips. “Is she cute?”

“Natasha.” He smiled softly.

“Where can I drop you off?”

“Near Hell’s Kitchen.”

She turned on her heel and began punching coordinates into the navigation system. “I get to choose where we go after Switzerland.”

You arrived back at your apartment a few hours later, finally gathering everything you needed to pull off your plan. You smiled to yourself as you locked your front door and threw your keys onto the side table. 

Suddenly, when you turned the lights on, a man emerged from the hallway, and you let out a loud gasp. You dropped the bags you had been carrying, only calming when you realized that it was only Steve.

“Steve!”

You stepped over the bags and raced into his arms. He wrapped his arms tight around you, cradling the back of your head in his large palm. He couldn’t help but release a breath of relief as he felt the comfortable weight of your body against his. He pulled away from you and held your face in his hands, eyes searching for any sign of injury. “Are you okay?”

“Steve, I’m fine. I promise. Why are you so worried?”

“You called me on the burner.”

Oops. You’d totally forgotten about that. You smiled sheepishly, “About that...“

“Y/N—“ He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing for your explanation.

“I’m sorry! You were gone, and I missed you. Then, I remembered I had a way of contacting you.”

“It’s for emergencies only.” He scolded you.

“I know, I know. It’s just that I missed you a lot, and your birthday is coming up, and—“

“My birthday?”

You looked behind you at the bags you’d dropped on the ground. Steve followed your line of sight before spotting something that had fallen out. He stepped away from you to pick it up and inspected it carefully. His head dropped and hung between his shoulders, a quiet laugh spilling from his lips. “Captain America balloons?”

“And other non-Captain America stuff.” You added defensively. “Not the cake though. That’s got Cap all over it.”

“You got a cake?”

You gasped, “The cake!”

You ran to the bags and fished out the one carrying the small circular cake, frowning when you found it. The cake was still in one piece, but the frosting was ruined, mushed against the top of the container. “Shit! Ugh, none of this is going how I planned.”

You couldn’t see beyond the messed up cake, but Steve’s eyes had the softest look. “You had a plan?”

“I was going to have a little party. Blow up balloons, light some candles, have cake. And I was going to send you pictures so you knew I remembered and that I wished you here with me and,” You looked back up at him and saw the gentle look in his eyes, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He smiled, “No reason. You know my birthday is tomorrow, right?”

“I didn’t know what time zone you were in.”

He let out a laugh and slid his arms around your waist. He kissed you so gently, more so than he ever had before. There was no lust behind the kiss. No promise of anything more than his tongue sweeping across yours as he pulled you closer still. Nothing but care, adoration, and a little four letter word that neither of you dared to say. 

When you pulled away for air, you rested your cheek on his shoulder, peering up at him as you wondered how he stumbled into your life. “What was that for?”

“For the party.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your curls. “C’mon. These balloons won’t blow themselves up.”

---

Since that last visit, Steve had made it a point to visit you more frequently. Every two months, at midnight on the dot, Steve was at your window with his duffel bag, a small smile on his face. It was working well for you both, and his variation in changing locations kept the feds and Tony off his trail. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

It was your birthday the next time you saw Steve, but it wasn’t exactly planned — at least not on your end. Bucky was flying the quinjet over the city, dropping Steve off so he could surprise you for your birthday. Then, Steve spotted a squadron of black vans. They didn’t seem to be following the jet, which was good, but they were following a route that Steve was all too familiar with.

“Shit.”

“What is it?” Bucky asked.

“They’re going to Y/N’s place.”

“What? How did the feds figure that one out?”

Just then, an object shot across the sky above them. It didn’t detect the jet thanks to Vision’s modifications, but they could very clearly see who it was. Steve glared at the hot rod red and gold suit as it flew further away from them. “The feds didn’t.”

You were lounging in bed, enjoying your day off from work when you heard a knock on your window. Your brow scrunched as you wondered why Steve would be here. Sure, it was your birthday, but he was scheduled for a mission today. Then you realized, he must’ve been lying so he could surprise you for your birthday. With a smile on your lips, you slipped out of bed and walked down the hall, prepared to give Steve the biggest hug you could muster.

Then the smile dropped. Because it wasn’t Steve outside your window.

It was Tony Stark.

He was in a suit, in typical Tony Stark fashion, the Iron Man suit keeping itself suspended just behind the rails of your fire escape. He knocked on the glass once more with a slightly facetious smile on his face. You walked up to the window and unlocked it, pushing it up for him. “Was there a reason you couldn’t use the front door?” You asked.

“Tony Stark, nice to meet you.” When you stepped back, he swung one leg over the window sill, then the other, stepping in and giving the room a once over. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“No. I’ve only ever seen you on television.”

“Does the camera add ten pounds?”

“It does something.”

“You flatter me.”

“I don’t.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, amusement tugging at the side of his lips as he picked up a picture that sat on your mantle. “You sure hold a lot of animosity for someone you’ve never met.”

“I can’t imagine you haven’t experienced worse.” You took the frame from him as you replied.

“Aren’t you wondering how I knew to come here?” He asked. “How I knew to knock on your window? How I knew you’d answer?”

You stood silent, glaring at him.

“Really? You’re gonna make me do the whole monologue thing?” He asked, only to be met with more silence. He huffed dramatically, “Fine. I’ve been trying to track him for a long time now, Y/N. I’ve tried the internet, tracking the quinjet, cell towers. Cell towers were a big one. But I also know Steve isn’t stupid. He wouldn’t risk calling anyone while on the run, especially not on the fancy new phones we have today.”

“Is this going somewhere?” You watched as he paced around the room, trying to keep your heart steady. You still had no idea where this was leading, but you were sure he was going to tell you. 

“So I figured, maybe he’d buy a burner. And lo and behold, he did. Janky flip phone, real two thousand five looking. But he paid good money to have GPS and the tracking number erased, so cell towers were useless. Until you.”

You knew he was baiting you into giving Steve up, into admitting that you knew Steve personally. Although you would never tell him about Steve, you were on edge as you thought about the many ways you could have left him vulnerable. Still, even as a thousand scenarios played out in your head, deep down, you knew that you hadn’t been anything less than discreet. The only way they could have known is—

“You had me tailed.”

“And you were a hard one to tail, I will say. You were very careful.” He admitted. “But that’s not how I learned about you.”

You watched as Tony fished through his pants pocket before pulling out a flimsy sheet of film, burnt around the edges. Something Tony had found in the aftermath of one of Steve’s crazy intel missions in a hole-in-the-ground government facility. He walked up to the table that stood between you both and slid it across to you. As your eyes widened in surprise, Tony knew he had you. It was a picture of you and Steve, taken on a polaroid he’d brought a few visits before.

A flip of the latch and he was in for the rest of the week.

You squealed as he lifted you off your feet, spinning you around. When he finally set you down, you pulled him in for a kiss, slow with the promise of something more. He chuckled lowly as he pulled away only for you to whine. “I wanna show you something.”

“Show me later.”

You swatted his hands, urging him to drop the duffel bag he’d been carrying, and led his arms around your waist. One long and very tempting kiss later, he was pulling away again. “Y/N.”

“I’m busy. Giving you my best work here.” You pressed wet kisses down his neck. Then, you settled on the spot just below his ear, always guaranteed to make him lose his mind. He had to fight the urge to throw you over his shoulder and take you to the bedroom, his hands clutching tight to your hips. Then, he pushed you back to an arm’s length and took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’m gonna show you one thing, and then, I promise, I am all yours.”

You sighed dramatically, crossing your arms over your chest with a pout. “Fine. But this better be good, Steven.”

You watched as he quickly slid off a backpack that you’d only then noticed. Digging around the inside, his eyes lit up when he finally found what he was looking for. He dropped the backpack and showed you what was in his hands.

“A camera?”

“A polaroid.” He added excitedly.

“Babe, that’s a little old school. Even for you.” You chuckled.

“This is a newer model, thank you very much.” He said, shaking the small black camera for emphasis. “I thought about a digital camera, but that’s the issue. They’re digital. If someone got their hands on the SD card, they could connect you to me.”

“I don’t care, Steve.”

“I do.” He took a step closer. He cupped your cheek with one hand and caressed his thumb across it lovingly. “If I ever get caught, I don’t want them to find out you were helping me. You’d go to prison.”

It was at that moment that you came to a scary realization. You didn’t care if you went to jail because you’d be doing it for Steve, for what you believed was the greater good. That was when you knew you loved him. Neither of you had told each other, but the sentiment could be felt every time you saw each other. It was the spark between your fingers when you held hands. The way he’d twist your hair for you when you were too sleepy to do it yourself. The way you’d scrub blood off his body when his visit happened to coincide with a mission gone bad. 

You both knew, but it was impossible to say.

“So,” You changed the subject. “You bought a polaroid instead.”

“That way, no one will know except you and me.”

“Our secret.” You nodded, your smile finally matching his. You grabbed his arm and pulled it up in the air as you positioned the camera where you wanted to be.

“Oh, so now you’re an expert in photography?” He joked.

“Shut up and take the picture.”

Tony’s eyes softened as you picked up the photo and relived a memory that he’d never be able to understand. He couldn’t say it didn’t hurt — hunting the man he once considered to be one of his best friends. His heart hurt as he watched you swallow down your tears and refuse to cry in front of him. He didn’t want to be the one to bring Steve in. Still, he had to be.

“Where is he, Y/N?”

“Screw you.”

“Just tell me where he is, and you’ll never hear from me again.”

You opened the drawer to the table and fished out the lighter you’d bought for Steve’s birthday party. You held the polaroid to the flame and watched as the picture burned to ash, gently tossing it in the waste bin. “You have no physical proof that I know Steve Rogers.”

“Y/N—”

“Get out of my house. Now.”

Tony looked at you, defeated and heartbroken at the same time. He acquiesced, stepping back out the window while telling his agents to meet at the rendezvous point. When he stepped back into the Iron Man suit, he gave you a nod. Even behind his mask, you could tell he had a backup plan.

Once he was out of sight, you remembered the emergency plan that Steve had drilled into you once it was clear you were getting serious. Pack a bag, get some cash, and leave town. “He’ll find me.” You kept repeating to yourself as you stuffed your clothes into a spare duffle bag.

When you were done, you picked up the burner and called Steve, sighing when it went straight to voicemail. “Hey babe, it’s me.” You cringed at your shaky voice. “It’s an emergency this time. Tony Stark just showed up at my house. He knows about us. I’ve packed a bag, and I’m getting ready to go. I don’t know where. But you’ll find me. Right?” You shook your head, pushing away any bad thoughts. “Okay. Don’t come to my place, alright? Someone’s probably watching. Just find me.”

Just as you hung up, there was a knock on your window. Worried it was Stark or one of his men, you ran to the closet and picked up your shotgun. Then the window slid open.

Shit, you thought, I forgot the latch.

You inched down the hallway, taking deep breaths as you held the gun steady. Suddenly, someone stepped out, your finger pulled the trigger. Your brow furrowed, though, as the sound was contained in the palm of the man’s hand, light splintering off of it. “Bucky?”

“You must be Y/N.” He smiled kindly. “Steve sent me. I’m gonna get you somewhere safe, alright?”

Meanwhile, Tony flew across the city to the rendezvous point, an abandoned warehouse on the Upper East Side. He’d gotten confirmation from his agents just a minute ago that they’d arrived and were waiting for him on the scene, yet when he got there, nobody was to be found. He stepped carefully around the back of one of the black vans, finding one of the agents passed out beside it. “FRIDAY, scan the warehouse for heat signatures.”

“There’s no need.”

When Tony rounded the vehicle, he saw Steve standing across the room. He looked different — a full beard, longer hair, a new black tactical suit that Tony was sure he didn’t design — and yet, he still looked the same. A glimmer in his eyes that Tony once mistook for self-righteousness. He now knew that was just Steve’s determination. “This is a pretty stupid plan, Steve.”

“It would be if it was a plan.” Steve shrugged. “I’m winging it.”

“That’s an even worse plan.”

“Something tells me I’ll be fine.”

“You know I can’t let you walk out of here.”

“You never let me do anything. I’m only here to warn you.”

Tony’s head drooped as he let out a low chuckle. “This is about the girl. You do know her.”

“Stay away from her, Tony.” Steve snapped. “I mean it.”

“You think I’d hurt her?”

“Of course not. But I don’t put you above turning her in.”

“She aided and abetted a fugitive.”

“I’m not having this argument with you. I know you just came from her house. From here on out, stay away from her. This is your only warning.”

Tony was thankful that his mask could not emote as surprise overtook his face. This wasn’t one of Steve’s idle threats that would amount to nothing like when the Avengers were first formed. Tony knew he was serious because he recognized Steve’s expression. It’s the same one Tony got when anyone dared to threaten Pepper.

It was hard admitting that he understood where Steve was coming from. But he did.

“And what if I don’t?” Tony asked, just to gauge his response.

Steve discreetly let out a breath of relief as he heard Bucky confirm that you were safe on comms. Looking back at Tony, his expression was a mixture of darkness and regret. “I’m not sure either of us wants to find out.”

Then, there was a flash of light that all but blinded Tony. When his eyesight returned to normal, Steve was gone.

In the wind once more.

---

Screw him.

After Tony found out who you were, Steve had taken to a safe house — a cabin in upstate Pennsylvania. It had been another favor from T’Challa. The king bought it under an alias and allowed you to stay in it until it was safe for you to go back to New York.

And to be honest, you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. It was kind of a neighborhood, multiple cabins built around one large lake. None of your neighbors actually lived there; they were more like vacation homes. Still, over the few years, you got to know them. It was nice, having that small sense of normalcy. 

Not to mention, it was much easier for Steve to visit this way. He’d come in the back entrance from the woods and stay a week or two, maybe more if he didn’t have any upcoming missions. In fact, it almost became like Steve’s home, too. When he wasn’t on a mission or in Wakanda, he was with you. And though Steve was always the first to say he no longer craved the normalcy of family, he couldn’t deny that being there, with you, was like a dream. A dream that was so close but still unattainable.

He was reminded of that when aliens invaded Earth. For the second time.

He up and left in a hurry one day, rushing out an explanation about how aliens were after Vision for some unknown reason. Still, he assured you that he’d come back, and you nodded sending him on his way with a quick kiss of his lips. It wasn’t unlike any of his other missions.

The difference this time was that he didn’t come back. At least, not for a year. Then, he was at your door again. No warning. No call. No cuts or bruises. Just him in the navy blue combat suit, silver star viciously ripped out. Thick beard, pink lips, and a look in his eyes that could kill. That is, if you didn’t know him. But you did know him. More than he’d like to admit.

So yeah, screw him.

How dare he just show up at your door without so much as a call. Steve had never gone that long without not seeing you, not speaking to you. You thought you meant at least that much to him. Even so, when you saw his face, you couldn’t help but want to be back in your old, beat-up apartment, eating junk and talking about shit that eventually wouldn’t matter until the sun rose.

Your first thought, though, was to slap him. So you did.

He’d seen it coming. He watched your small, soft hand that he’d held in his one too many times rise toward his cheek. He knew he could’ve stopped you. His instincts told him to stop you. But part of him knew he deserved it. He’d become the hero everyone needed, but in return he was no longer satisfied with the man he saw in the mirror.

He was a shell. Smiling for his friends when needed, saving the city, country, world when needed. Or trying to save the world. But inside he barely felt anything.

One of the few things he did feel for stood right in front of him. That’s why he let you slap him.

You knew the hit would barely phase him. He was a super soldier after all. The only thing he could feel was relief. Relief in knowing that you were here, in the flesh. Relieved knowing that the woman he adored hadn’t vanished into thin air. So he crashed his lips against yours in a passionate embrace. 

Surprised didn’t begin to explain how you felt. Still, you could hardly complain when Steve’s lips were moving so tenderly against your own after so much time apart. You were still angry — how could you not be? — but you still worried for him. It all seemed to be happening too fast. From what you saw on the televised memorials, he’d lost half his team, his best friend. You were starting to wonder if he should do this so soon.

You were finally given an opportunity to breathe when Steve started to leave a trail of kisses down your neck. One of his hands slid down your body and grabbed onto your thigh, hooking it around his waist. “Steve.” You called.

He hummed, finding and nipping at the spot on your neck that made you gasp. 

“Steve.”

His grip only tightened, pulling you as close as he could. 

This time, you spoke more firmly, pushing his head away, “Steve.”

He looked at you, his breaths coming out in huffs. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” You admitted as you caught your breath. “Are you sure you—“

“I need to feel something.” He said quietly. He seemed almost ashamed as he spoke. “I wanna be sad. I wanna be angry. God, I want to be angry. I'd at least have something fueling me. But I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t feel anything. I feel empty. Every time I close my eyes, I see Bucky turning to dust. Or Vision’s head caved in. Sam’s gone, Wanda’s gone. I just, I need to feel something, anything. Please.”

The look in his eyes was one you’d never seen from him before. Distraught, hopelessness was only a start. In the year he’d been gone, you had no idea what he’d been through. And, to some extent, you know how he felt. You saw some of your own friends and family on the memorial reels. You’d cried yourself to sleep more than once, wondering if you’d ever see them again. You knew that as bad as you felt, Steve probably felt worse because in his mind, it was his job to save them.

And he couldn’t. Didn’t.

So you pulled him closer and pressed your lips to his. Walked him back toward the bedroom. You took care of him, made him feel, even if only for a moment, when he was completely and utterly numb. And you laid with him afterward until you both fell asleep, no idea what the morning would bring for you.

You’d find out that the morning would not be much kinder. When you woke up, Steve was slipping his combat suit back on. He cursed softly when he realized you were awake, “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Right.” You huffed, your voice still groggy-sounding. “You just meant to leave before we could talk about what the hell happened last night.”

He sighed, “Y/N—”

“So this is what you do now? Show up and leave when it’s convenient for you?”

“Y/N, I’ve always been honest with you. You know that—”

“That you’re a fugitive? Half the fucking universe is gone, Steve. They’re not worried about you anymore.” You scoffed, sitting up and clutching the sheets to your bare chest. “You know what? For the first time, I thought I could be selfish, that you could be selfish.”

“I can’t.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He tried to veer away from the conversation as he glanced around the room and muttered to himself. “Where the fuck are my boots?”

“You’d saved so many people. So many lives kept safe because of you. And when you made one mistake in the eyes of the law, a whole lot of them turned on you. And you’d think that, of all things, would make you want to be selfish, just once.”

“I can’t afford to be selfish.” He replied. “People need me.”

“I need you, Steve.” Your voice was so quiet, so vulnerable, that it made him freeze. In all the years he’d known you, he’d never once heard you sound so helpless. Child-like, almost. “You were gone. For a year.”

“I know.” He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. He came around to sit next to you, a comforting hand on your thigh as you leaned back on the headboard. “I’m sorry.”

“I had to watch my neighbors disappear into thin air. It was like everything was moving in slow motion, and for the first time in my life, I was terrified. Terrified because I didn’t know if I was next.”

“Y/N…”

“Then I saw the memorials. I lost my best friend, too. Heather.” You told him, a tear finally falling from your eye. “My aunt, two cousins, my nephew. They’re all gone.”

“I did everything I could.” Steve said, trying but failing to hold in his own tears.

“I know you did. That was not your fault. I know you would’ve given your life for the world.” Your brow furrowed as you looked over at him. You placed your hand over his, squeezing reassuringly. “That’s not why I’m upset with you. You didn’t come back to me, Steve. I knew you were okay, they said so on the news. I kept waiting and waiting, and you never came.”

“I couldn’t.” He wiped the tears from his face. Then, he abruptly stood from the bed. “I shouldn’t have come back here.”

“Steve—”

“It’s only hurting both of us to be here.” He quickly found his boots and slipped them on.

“Steve, stop it!” You slipped out of bed and grabbed your robe.

“Y/N, you don’t get it! I can’t do what I have to — I can’t be Captain America — if I’m always thinking about you!”

“Then tell me you don’t love me.”

His lips parted in shock as he tilted his head, eyes giving you a sad look. “That’s not fair.”

“Just tell me. That way, all this, this bullshit, will make sense.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” You chuckled bitterly. “It’s not like we’ve said it to each other anyway.”

“Stop, Y/N.” He shook his head and walked out of the bedroom, toward the back door. You were quick to follow him, staying on his heels.

“Say it.”

“Don’t.”

“Say you don’t love me, Steve.”

“Goddamn it, you know I love you, Y/N!” He snapped, turning to face you. “I love you, alright?”

Everything about that moment was the portrait of juxtaposition. He’d just snapped at you, sure, but he also just said the three little words that you’d both been tiptoeing around for years. He finally professed his love to you, but his eyes were filled with sadness, with regret. Steve may have been the hero, but the way he was looking at you made it clear that he was the one who needed saving. Not that he’d ever let you.

And to think it was him who initially sought to be a part of your life.

“Then, why are you leaving?” You asked, tears still falling from your eyes.

“I can’t be Captain America and the man who loves you, and I do love you. So much.” He stepped closer, ignoring his own tears. He placed his warm hands on your cheeks and pulled you close, resting his forehead against yours. “Because if it ever comes down to everyone or you? I’m choosing you.”

You wished the moment could have been more tender. But your heart broke at the thought because looking in his eyes, you knew it was true. You grabbed his wrists tight, afraid to let go. “So this is it?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a bittersweet kiss. You could taste both your tears on your lips, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else in the whole world mattered except for the feeling of his lips on yours because this would be the last time you ever felt it. You prayed to whoever was listening that you’d never forget the feeling. His soft lips nudging yours apart, the heaviness of his hands on your face. You hoped you never forgot what it was like to feel him, his weight, his heat, his joy, his sadness. Everything about him, you hoped it would be ingrained in your mind because even though it had only been a few years since you met, you couldn’t imagine life without him anymore.

When he pulled away, it felt too soon. He looked at you one more time, his eyes puffy and red. He memorized your eyes and your lips, the contrast of your brown skin against his pale hands. He slid his hands down your neck, to your shoulders, then your forearms, finally willing himself to step back. He looked like he wanted to say something, and you hoped that he would. But nothing came out.

With one last glance, Steve was out your back door.

In the wind. For good.

[marvel-queens-world]

Civil War Part 2

Word Count: 1976

Warning: Angst

You don't know how much time had passed since Steve and Sam had left you and Bucky alone but you knew it was coming to an end. You wish the two of you could just go somewhere and be together without looking over your shoulders every 5 seconds but you knew it was going to be a long time before that happened.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you two but we need to leave before we get found." Steve says.

You lift your head off Bucky's chest and look at Steve.

"It's fine Steve don't worry about it."

"Thank you for looking out for him Y/n. I really do appreciate it."

"No problem Cap." You smile.

You all leave your hideout to meet Sharon, who has managed to sneak your guys weapons.

"I think Steve fancies her." Bucky whispers in your ear.

"What? I think you've got that wrong Buck."

You look over just in time to see Steve and Sharon kissing, you quickly look back at Bucky who has a smirk on his face.

"I told you." He says.

"Shut up James." You say.

Once Steve gets back into the car, he drives you to the airport where you meet up with Clint and Scott. After a quick talk the airport alarm starts going off.

"My dad's here." You say.

"What shall we do?" Bucky asks.

"Suit up." Says Steve.

When everyone is suited up, you all head towards your positions, you give Bucky a quick kiss before heading off with Clint. Steve makes his way to where the helicopter is, just as he gets there Tony flies in with Rhodey.

"Wow, it's so weird how you run into people at the airport. Don't you think that's weird?" Tony asks.

"Definitely weird," Rhodey replies.

"Hear me out Tony." Steve says. "That doctor the psychiatrist, he's behind all of this."

As Steve finishes his sentence Black Panther appears.

"Captain,"

"Your Highness."

"Anyway... Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in, that was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?" Tony asks.

"Your after the wrong guy."

"Your judgement is askew."

Tony and Steve continue talking while Black Widow and Spider-Man join Tony's side to talk Steve out of it.

"You've been busy."

"And you've been a complete idiot. How could you bring Y/n into this, my own daughter."

"She knows what she is doing. You turned your back on her when you signed the accords, along with tearing the Avengers apart."

"Turn in Barnes and come with us now." Tony demands.

"We found it." Sam says through the earpiece. "The quinjet is in hangar five."

Steve holds up his arms and Clint shoots an arrow to unbind him. Scott then appears taking the shield off Spider-Man.

"There's two on the parking deck, one of them is Y/n. I'm going to grab her, Rhodey, you wanna take Cap?"

"Wilson and Barnes are on the terminal."

"Barnes is mine." T'Challa says.

You and Clint carry on running, heading towards the quinjet. Suddenly Tony fires little missiles as you causing you to stop in your tracks.

"Y/n, you are killing me sweetheart. Please stop this."

"You locked me in a room and threatened to stop me from seeing Bucky. You really think I'm going to forgive you that easily." You say.

"I'm trying to protect you." He shouts.

"The only protection I need is from you."

Clint shoots an arrow at Tony distracting him for a split second, using the suit that your dad built for you, you bring the cars down so that they land on Tony. Once he is on the ground, you meet up with the rest of the team before Vision stops you. Tony and his team assemble.

"What know Cap?" You question.

"We fight."

You all start running towards each other, you head straight towards Vision dodging his attacks, you manage to hit him with a blast, knocking him out of the way, giving you chance to help the others. As the fight continues you see that T'Challa as the upper hand on Bucky, you run over to them and fling T'Challa out the way.

"Thanks doll."

You carry on helping the rest of the team but you quickly realise that the only way to win is if some of you lose as long Bucky and Steve get to the quinjet. You tell the team this over the earpiece much to the dismay of Bucky.

"Y/n, please come with us." Bucky begs.

"This isn't my fight anymore Buck. You and Steve need to finish this."

"You need to come with us doll. If you don't your dad will arrest you."

"I'll find a way to you James. I always do. Please just do what I say. I love you.

"I love you too." He says.

With the help of Scott you cause a distraction which allows Bucky and Steve to make their way to the quinjet. You watch it take off and smile knowing it was the right thing to do but know you were left wondering how the hell you were going to find your way back to Bucky this time. You see Natasha leaving where the quinjet just was, knowing that she has just helped Bucky and Steve you run over to her.

"Are you okay?" She asks.

"Yeah I'm fine but I need your help."

"Anything."

"Help me get to Bucky and Steve. I need to find them before my dad does."

"I know where there's another quinjet. Come on follow me."

You and Natasha quickly run to another quinjet. Once there she hugs you before you set off. You manage to get to the boys just as they are walking to the entrance where you can only guess Zemo is. You quickly get out of the quinjet and make your way over to them.

"Bucky."

He turns around and sees you.

"Hey doll."

You run up to him and he hugs you. Placing a kiss on your forehead which makes you smile.

"I didn't think you would make it out without Tony finding you."Steve says.

"Nat helped me. Now come on let's get this over with." You say.

The three of you make your way into the Hydra facility. As you get further in you hear a noise coming from behind you, Bucky pushes you behind him and raises his gun. The doors begin to open and your dad appears. He talks to Steve and he offers a truce which Steve and Bucky accept but you walk over to him still angry at what he did to you.

"So you just expect me to forgive you just like that after all the things you said and did."

"No I don't Y/n I know I was out of order to say all those things and stop you from seeing Barnes but that is my father instinct coming out I want what's best for you and I know that you do make the right choices all the time and it is me that is in the wrong. I don't see the good in people straight away like you do. I love you Y/n, you are my greatest achievement and I'll understand if you don't forgive me." Tony says.

You are left speechless not believing what Tony had just said. You stare at him before throwing your arms around his neck.

"I love you too dad."

After that little distraction, you carry on searching for Zemo. You find him and he talks to Steve before playing a video tape. You and Tony look at the screen whilst Steve and Bucky just look at you.

"What is this?" Tony demands.

Your eyes never leave the screen. You knew as soon as the figure crawled out the car that it was your grandfather and your grandmothers car. You were only 1 at the time of their death but your dad had told you about them and you had read about what you thought was back then a car accident, until you see Bucky kill both of them. The video stops playing and you look at Bucky, tears in your eyes.

"Did you know?" Tony asks Steve.

You turn to look at Steve.

"Don't bullshit me. Did you know?" Your dad asks again.

"Yes." Steve says.

Tony turns to face Bucky. Hand ready to shoot but you are in the way.

"Y/n you can't defend him this time. He killed your grandparents."

"The Winter Soldier did that."

"Y/n move before I do something that I will regret."

"Then do it but then everything you said to me not even 10 minutes ago is all a lie."

"Y/n, move." Tony whispers.

"No."

He raises his hand again but just before the blast hits you, Bucky pushes you out the way. Tony begins to fight Bucky and Steve. Once you have regained your breath back you quickly run over to your dad.

"Dad, please stop. It wasn't him. He didn't know what he was doing."

Tony pushes you away.

"I'm sure he knew perfectly well what he was doing." He spits.

The fight carries on. You feel helpless every now and then you would push your dad out the way and try and help Bucky but Tony would find a way back to him. Bucky finally manages to get the upper hand but you realise something bad was about to happen.

"Bucky." You scream.

It was too late. Tony blasts off Bucky's metal arm and then hits him to the floor. You go to help Bucky but Tony throws you against the wall and starts fighting Steve. Everything is a blur, you just remember closing your eyes and when you open them again your dad is on the floor and Steve is next to you.

"Can you help me with Buck?" He asks.

"Yeah of course."

He helps you up before helping Bucky. Bucky puts his weight on Steve and you help keep him up.

"That's my father's shield. It doesn't belong to you." Tony shouts.

With a sigh Steve drops the shield.

"Y/n, please talk to me I'm sorry for everything."

"I don't want to talk to you again Tony." You say.

You head out and see T'Challa coming towards you. He takes Bucky from you and you walk ahead towards the quinjet. Once on there you sit away from the boys but you can feel Bucky's eyes on you. Part of you is still in shock that he killed your grandparents but you knew that he wasn't in the right frame of mind. You just needed time to yourself to process everything that had happen. A day later you were in Wakanda, T'Challa said you could hide out here until everything was sorted out. You were making your way to the lab when you heard Bucky and Steve.

"She hates me." Bucky says.

"No she doesn't Buck."

"Steve, she couldn't even look at me when she found out what happened. Y/n hasn't spoken to me at all since we got here."

"She tried to stop Tony from killing you. Surely that means something."

"Yeah she didn't want her father to become a murderer."

"Just go and talk to her Buck." Steve says.

You make your way over to them. Bucky notices you first.

"Steve. Can you give us 5 minutes?" You ask.

"Sure. Take all the time you need."

Steve rubs your shoulder before leaving the room.

"How you feeling?" You ask Bucky.

"Sore and tired." He replies.

"Yeah you did take one hell of a beating from my dad."

"Why did you stop him from killing me?"

"Bucky what you did all those years ago, that wasn't you. The Winter Soldier killed my grandparents not my Bucky,"

"I thought you hated me."

"I could never hate you. I just needed time to process everything. I love you Bucky, nothing will ever change that I promise.”

[newstfionline]

Wednesday, March 24, 2021

Biden Team Prepares $3 Trillion in New Spending for the Economy (NYT) President Biden’s economic advisers are pulling together a sweeping $3 trillion package to boost the economy, reduce carbon emissions and narrow economic inequality, beginning with a giant infrastructure plan that may be financed in part through tax increases on corporations and the rich. The enormous scope of the proposal highlights the aggressive approach the Biden administration wants to take as it tries to harness the power of the federal government to make the economy more equitable, address climate change, and improve American manufacturing and high-technology industries in an escalating battle with China.

Hugs, at last: Nursing homes easing rules on visitors (AP) An 88-year-old woman in Ohio broke down in tears as her son hugged her for the first time in a year. Nursing home residents and staff in California sang “Over the Rainbow” as they resumed group activities and allowed visitors back in. A 5-year-old dove into the lap of her 94-year-old great-great-aunt for a long embrace in Rhode Island. Nursing homes, assisted living facilities and other kinds of elderly residences battered by COVID-19 are easing restrictions and opening their doors for the first time since the start of the pandemic, leading to joyous reunions around the country after a painful year of isolation, Zoom calls and greetings through windows. The vaccination drive, improved conditions inside nursing homes, and relaxed federal guidelines have paved the way for the reunions.

Miami’s South Beach confronts disastrous spring break (AP) Florida’s famed South Beach is desperately seeking a new image. With more than 1,000 arrests and nearly 100 gun seizures already during this year’s spring break season, officials are thinking it may finally be time to cleanse the hip neighborhood of its law-breaking, party-all-night vibe. The move comes after years of increasingly stringent measures—banning alcohol from beaches, canceling concerts and food festivals—have failed to stop the city from being overrun with out-of-control parties and anything-goes antics. This weekend alone, spring breakers and pandemic-weary tourists drawn by Florida’s loose virus-control rules gathered by the thousands along famed Ocean Drive, at times breaking into street fights, destroying restaurant property and causing several dangerous stampedes. The situation got so out of hand that Miami Beach Police brought in SWAT teams to disperse pepper bullets and called in law enforcement officers from at least four other agencies. Ultimately, the city decided to order an emergency 8 p.m. curfew that will likely extend well into April after the spring break season is over. Some tourists are angry about the curfew, which they say has put a damper on long-sought vacations for which they paid good money. Meanwhile, some officials say they should have enacted more stringent measures sooner—as was done in New Orleans prior to Mardi Gras last month—instead of reacting in the middle of the chaos.

England slaps 5,000 pound fine on most travel abroad (Reuters) Fines of 5,000 pounds ($6,900) will be introduced for people from England who try to travel abroad before the end of June in a tightening of the country’s border controls. Health minister Matt Hancock said the government’s original plan to review international travel in April and possibly permit it from May 17 still stood but the travel fines were included in legislation in case that would not be possible. In the UK, foreign holidays are currently banned. Europe’s airlines and travel sector are now bracing for a second lost summer. Having already racked up billions in debt to survive a year of travel restrictions, they are facing further strain and some may need fresh funds.

Tensions mount between Afghan government, powerful warlord (AP) Tensions are mounting between Afghanistan’s government and a powerful local warlord, with deadly clashes erupting in a rural province between his fighters and government troops. The government has launched an assault in central Maidan Wardak province, vowing to punish the warlord, Abdul Ghani Alipoor, after the defense minister accused his fighters of shooting down a military helicopter last week, killing nine personnel. Alipoor holds widespread loyalty among ethnic Hazaras, a mainly Shiite community who are a minority in Afghanistan but make up most of the population in Maidan Wardak. If Kabul considers warlords as agents of turmoil, their supporters see them as their only protection and support in the face of a notoriously corrupt government and violent insurgents. Many Hazaras, who face attacks by Sunni militants and discrimination by the government, see Alipoor as a hero, defending them against the Taliban and keeping local institutions running. “The government is incompetent, so people depend on Alipoor and support him,” said Mohammed Jan. “Alipoor serves his people. If our government would serve the people, everyone would support it and there wouldn’t be any need for an Alipoor.”

China Makes It A Crime To Question Military Casualties On The Internet (NPR) When China acknowledged this year that four of its soldiers had died fighting Indian forces on the two countries’ disputed mountain border eight months prior, the irreverent blogger Little Spicy Pen Ball had questions. “If the four [Chinese] soldiers died trying to rescue their fellow soldiers, then there must have been those who were not successfully rescued,” he wrote on Feb. 19 to his 2.5 million followers on Weibo, a Chinese social media site. “This means the fatalities could not have just been four.” The day after, Qiu Ziming, the 38-year-old former newspaper journalist behind the blog, was detained and criminally charged. If convicted, he faces a sentence of up to three years. “Little Spicy Pen Ball maliciously slandered and degraded the heroes defending our country and the border,” according to the annual work report published by the country’s chief prosecutor office this month. Qiu’s is the first case to be tried under a sweeping new criminal law that took effect March 1. The new law penalizes “infringing on the reputation and honor of revolutionary heroes.” At least six other people have been detained or charged with defaming “martyrs.” The government uses the terms “revolutionary heroes” and “martyrs” for anyone it memorializes for their sacrifice for the Communist Party. The detentions typify the stricter controls over online speech under Chinese leader Xi Jinping, which have deterred nearly all open dissent in the country. The new law even seeks to criminalize speech made outside China. Such is the case of Wang Jingyu, 19, who lives in the United States and is now a wanted man in his hometown of Chongqing, China. The authorities accuse him of slandering dead Chinese soldiers after Weibo reported him for a comment questioning the number of border fight casualties. “Cyberspace is not outside the law,” the Chongqing public security bureau said in an online notice after it declared Wang would be “pursued online” for his comments.

West sanctions China over Xinjiang abuses, Beijing hits back at EU (Reuters) The United States, the European Union, Britain and Canada imposed sanctions on Chinese officials on Monday for human rights abuses in Xinjiang, the first such coordinated Western action against Beijing under new U.S. President Joe Biden. Beijing hit back immediately with punitive measures against the EU that appeared broader, including European lawmakers, diplomats, institutes and families, and banning their businesses from trading with China. Western governments are seeking to hold Beijing accountable for mass detentions of Muslim Uighurs in northwestern China, where the United States says China is committing genocide. China denies all accusations of abuse.

Australian floods (AFP) Devastating flooding is ongoing across Australia, where an area the size of Alaska with some 10 million people is at risk for excessive rainfall and storminess. The flooding comes amid colliding weather systems gripping the country. Up to 35 inches of rain fell in just four days, and some places are seeing their worst flooding in 60 years. Nearly three times the average March rainfall has fallen in a number of locales, which Australia’s Bureau of Meteorology described as “phenomenal,” with additional rain and flooding expected in the days ahead.

Israel TV satirist says grateful to politicians but needs a break (AFP) As Israel heads into its fourth election in two years, the presenter of the country’s favourite satirical TV show has a request, and he’s only half joking. “I would like us to finally have a stable government and make a boring programme,” says Eyal Kitsis, frontman of the Channel 12 show “Eretz Nehederet” (“A Wonderful Country”). As much as Israel’s political turmoil may be straining the patience of the electorate, it has been television gold because “reality is crazy”, Kitsis told AFP. “Elections and politics have really become entertainment in this country. Our challenge as a satirical programme is to add a layer to it, to take it to the next level.”

Israel vote deadlock: Netanyahu appears short of majority (AP) Uncertainty hovered over the outcome of Israel’s parliamentary election Wednesday, with both Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and sworn political rivals determined to depose him apparently lacking a clear path to a governing coalition. Deadlock in the 120-seat parliament was a real possibility a day after the election, which had been dominated by Netanyahu’s polarizing leadership. With about 87.5% of the vote counted by Wednesday morning, Netanyahu’s Likud party and its ultra-Orthodox and far-right allies fell short of a 61-seat majority.

Saudi Arabia offers cease-fire plan to Yemen rebels (AP) Saudi Arabia on Monday offered a cease-fire proposal to Yemen’s Houthi rebels that includes reopening their country’s main airport, the kingdom’s latest attempt to halt years of fighting in a war that has sparked the world’s worst humanitarian crisis. The move comes after the rebels stepped up a campaign of drone and missile attacks on the kingdom’s oil sites, briefly shaking global energy prices amid the coronavirus pandemic. It also comes as Riyadh tries to rehabilitate its image with the U.S. under President Joe Biden. Saudi Arabia has drawn internationally criticism for airstrikes killing civilians and embargoes exacerbating hunger in a nation on the brink of famine. Whether the plan will take hold remains another question. A unilaterally declared Saudi cease-fire collapsed last year. Fighting rages around the crucial city of Marib and the Saudi-led coalition launched airstrikes as recently as Sunday targeting Yemen’s capital of Sanaa. A U.N. mission said another suspected airstrike hit a food-production company in the port city of Hodeida.

Rail and derailments (Vice) Freight rail is an essential vein of the transportation system in the U.S., moving 57 tons of goods per American each year. It’s also the safest way to move hazardous materials, but freight train derailments are more common than one might think: in 2019, there were 341 reported derailments on main line track, of which 24 were freight trains carrying 159 cars of hazardous materials. The labor unions in the rail industry have been calling this out as a symptom of a degrading safety culture, and warn that it’s only a matter of time before one of those derailments causes catastrophic damages.