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queenrose730 · 3 years

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Reckless

Part Two

Master List

The ride to the airport was quite. Everyone had their eyes trained on a different part of the road. The airport itself was busy. Cars and people just about everywhere. That’s what made the parking garage even more eerie. It was empty. Not a single car. Steve drove up a few levels before parking allowing everyone to get out and stretch.

“I’m going to do a per- “

“Yn. There is nobody here. We didn’t pass a single car.” Steve had his hand on your shoulder. He was relaxed somehow. So you mimicked his composer and leaned against the car. You tensed again when you heard a vehicle approaching. Pushing off from the car a reaching for your gun. But again Steve was calm.

“It’s irritating how relaxed you are right now.” You snarled at him. He just smiled and walked forward as the white van pulled into a spot a few down from where you were.

You didn’t recognize the woman in the front seat at first. A man got out of the driver’s side and walked around the van.

“You’ve got to be shitting me! Hawkeye!” You rush over to him all but lifting him off the ground in a hug.

“Alright calm down. It’s good to see you to.” He squeezed you tightly and you both pulled back.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were retired?” You lifted your brow at him as he just laughed.

“You know how it is when cap calls.” He just shrugged

“Don’t I.” Now you recognized the woman behind Clint. “This must be Wanda!” You released Clint so he could talk to Steve and Sam. Wanda put her hand out to you.

“Oh no I don’t do handshakes.” You scooped her in for just as tight of hug as you did with Clint. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you to yn.” Clint talked about you the whole way here. She had a big smile on her face. You turn to Clint still holding her hand

“I hope it was all good things.” He chuckled and walk toward the side door of the van.

“Told her you would be a bad influence.” He winked as he opened the door. A man you didn’t know sort of tumbled out of the van, looking like he was being woken up from a three-day bender.

“Holy crap it’s Captain America!” He started vigorously shaking Steve’s hand and you couldn’t help but laugh at his face. Wanda let a small giggle out too. I’m Scott lang.

“Nice to meet you Scott.” You could tell Steve was dying on the inside. He hated when people fanned over him. Scott quickly let go of his hand and turned back to where Clint, Wanda and you were standing.

“I know you guys too. You’re all great!”

The moment was cut short when an announcement in German came over the airport pa.

“Steve they are clearing out the airport.” You let go of Wanda’s hand and walked closer to him. “Stark is here.”

“Then let’s suit up.” He turned back to the bug to get his shield.

“Clint I sure hope you brought me something?”

“I always have gifts for you princess!” He walked around to the back of the van. There were two duffle bags. “Right one is all yours.”

“What’s in the other one?” You picked up your bag and hooked it on your shoulder.

“Had to bring gifts for everyone.” He nodded off to where Barnes was standing. He was leaning on the car looking out the parking garage.

“Hey Barnes. You got a delivery over here!” You shouted to him and walked around the other side of the van so you could get changed into your gear.

The plan was simple. The rest of the team would deal with Tony and whoever else was with him. You would get a plane ready. You didn’t like being held back from a fight but you knew it was the best chance to get out of there. Sam and you were the best pilots. It was going to take every ounce of skill to out maneuver Tony in his suit. Sam would be noticed if he wasn’t fighting. So far all of you had no inclination that anyone knew you were with Steve. It was the best shot. Packing up the last of your arsenal into a bag, Barnes walked up to you.

“Do you have extra space in there?”

“Sure do. Whatcha got.” You began to move things around as he handed you extra magazines.

“Thanks.” He patted your shoulder before turn back to join the others.

The main goal of this fight wasn’t to kill. Most of the weapons you attached to your body were some form of taser. Everything else was packed into the bag and secured to your back.

“You ready over there yn?” You turned to Steve. Everyone else was standing around him waiting for final orders.

“Yea. Just had to double check all the goodies”

“Right. So if Stark is here that means the helicopter is probably not going to be the best way out of here.” Steve turned to Sam. “Check to see if there is a quinjet here. Hopefully we can draw enough attention for yn to get there and be ready for us.” There was a pause. Something told you everyone was thinking the same thing. Not everyone would be getting to the jet. “Sam, Buck. I want you in the terminal top floor. Clint, Wanda. Find somewhere close to me. But stay out of sight until I signal. Scott. You’re with me. Yn, stay to the edges. Don’t engage if at all possible. They need to think that it’s only the six of us.” Everyone was nodding to their instructions and moving to get into position. Steve and you were the last two to move. Standing side by side he put his arm around you in a tight hug, placing a small kiss on the top of your head.

“And promise me yn. Don’t do anything stupid or reckless.” You couldn’t help but laugh and walk away from him. Turning back to face him.

“Now you know that’s my job Steve.” He gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he moved to follow you.

“Comms check. Is everyone in position?” A chorus of copies came through your ear piece. “Sam where are we on the quinjet?”

“Looks like it’s in the far hanger to the right.” You peaked around the edge of the building you were hiding behind.

“Looks like a pretty straight shot Steve. I should have plenty of cover as long as you keep them busy.”

“Let’s move.”

Steve took off in a jog to the helicopter that was your original plan. Just before he reached it though, something electrified it. Tony and Rhodey landed just in front of it. You could feel the tension from those two from where you were standing. Soon more people joined their conversation. T’challa, Nat and then another person you didn’t recognize. He had snatched the shield from Steve and was talking to Tony. Suddenly Steve raised his hands, they were bound somehow. An arrow spilt the binding and in an instant the fight was on.

You tired your best not to focus too much on who was hitting who. That didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was dodging debris that seemed to start falling from everywhere. Somewhere in the chaos you saw that Vision had joined in on Tony’s side.

“Steve I’m at the jet!” You shouted over the noise that filled the comms. “Get here now!”

“We got to take out the flyers! We won’t get out of here with them in the air!”

“Steve. You and Bucky get to the jet. The rest of us aren’t making it out of this fight.”

“Sam’s right cap. This isn’t the real fight.”

“Steve. We need to go now.” You pleaded with him. He hesitated.

“Then we need I big diversion.”

Scott was on it. Suddenly growing to tower over everything.

“That’s it Steve. Get your ass here now.” Your anxiety was raising. Everything on the jet was ready to go.

You just needed Steve and Barnes to be fast enough to make it.

“Come on come on.” You repeated to yourself. They were gaining ground. The jets engines whined as they Idled in place, ready to let loose. Suddenly a yellow beam of energy shot across the tarmac and the tower next to the hangar was falling. Shit. They weren’t going to make it. You prepared to take off and snatch them on the other side. It would be extremely risky but that was the only option. That was until now a red energy from Wanda slowed the fall. Both men pushed hard to run. At the last second though Wanda’s energy was gone. The tower came crashing down.

“Fuck Steve!” You shouted over the comms. He didn’t have to answer you because there both him and Barnes stood. Face to face with Nat.

You fought with yourself. They needed to get out of here. There was no time to waste fighting with Natasha. Then T’challa climbed over the debris. Almost instantly Nat hit him with a taser shot. She was helping you guys.

“Steve! Now!” You shouted one last time. As soon as you heard two sets of boots, the ramp was up and the jet was airborne.

“Hold on to something!” You didn’t wait for confirmation before dropping the jet back down low to avoid a shot from Tony. All you could hear was bodies hitting something and curse words. Next was straight up then sharp right bank.

“Sam I need some cover. I can’t shake them!”

“I’m working on it!” Tony was down. It was just Rhodey on your tail. He matched you turn for turn.

“Fuck. Come on Sam.” You mumbled focused on pulling every maneuver skill you could think off.

“Yn!” Steve caught you leaving attention just in time for you to dodge another yellow beam from vision. Rhodey dropped from your radar. There we shots over the comms. You couldn’t make them out clearly but you knew it was bad. All you could do was push the engines harder and put more distance between the airport and you.

Tags @ginger-swag-rapunzel

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x y/n #slow burn #enemies to lovers #captian america #civil war #super slow burn #steve x reader friendship #steve rogers #marvel fanfiction

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chickensarentcheap · 3 years

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Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 12

Title: In the Quiet

Warnings: very brief mention of sexual abuse

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip

He wakes to the press of her warm body against his and the smell of her hair. A mixture of coconut and honey; an inexpensive shampoo that she’s been using for more than a decade and he never tires of. It’s the scent of home; the reminder of the place where he’s the happiest and feels the most comfortable and secure. Where he can be himself without judgment; not looked down upon for his weaker moments or when the darker days of battling his own mind have him feeling scared and vulnerable. For years he’d tucked that side of himself away; using booze and pain meds as a way to mask the pain and escape the demons and the monsters of the past. He’d become emotionally absent; refusing to make connections with anyone out of the fear of becoming too close and getting too attached, only to lose them. And he’d convinced himself that he was unable to love or be loved; years of torment at the hands of his father and the horrible decision he’d made while his child was dying condemning him. It seems like a lifetime ago now; a whole other existence entirely. In the last twelve and half years he’s learned to love again; wholly and unconditionally and so profoundly it is physically painful at times. And he’s allowed himself to be loved in return; blessed with a woman that knows his deepest and darkest secrets and sees past all his faults. Who forgives his mistakes and always gives him another chance, even when he knows he’s not deserving of it. And seven children that he’s had a hand in creating; incredible little human beings that adore and trust him without hesitation.

It’s a life unlike anything he ever thought possible. When both the enormity of his horrible decision regarding his son and his profound grief had set in, he’d sought comfort in the bottle and the unpredictability of a dangerous and bloody career. Relegating himself to a solitary and miserable existence; refusing to allow anyone to get too close and using women for nothing more than sexual gratification. Convincing himself that he didn’t deserve anything beyond that; a warm body on a lonely night and that beaten and battered shack in the outback with its rusted tin roof. Knowing if he wasn’t lucky enough to catch that fatal bullet while on a job, he’d more than likely die there on the dusty floor; drinking himself to death or OD'ing on a mixture of painkillers and cheap whiskey. There were days he prayed for it; an end to the demons that had been tormenting him since the moment he’d gotten the call in Afghanistan that his only child had passed away.

Part of him had died the moment Austin had; all the experiences he’d hoped they’d share, all the dreams he had about what his son would achieve and who he’d become suddenly coming to an abrupt end. Logically, they’d ceased to exist months before. When the specialists had said that despite their best efforts with both chemotherapy and radiation, the cancer had returned and was just far too aggressive and advanced; palliative care and pain management the only remaining options. But while his wife had been devastated and immediately began planning for the inevitable, he’d clung to that faint hope that the medical professionals were wrong; some miracle would occur and Austin would beat the odds. Reality soon began to set in, and it was then that Tyler had discovered just how weak and vulnerable he really was; turning to alcohol to numb the pain, spendings hours and sometimes days away from home because he couldn’t bear seeing his son suffer and his wife run herself ragged and fall deeper and deeper in the pit of despair and grief.

He hadn’t been able to handle it; unable to ‘man up’ and be who and what both of them had so desperately needed. Despite the ongoing issues in their marriage and her long and sordid history of cheating -and the rumours that the kid wasn’t even his to begin with- she had deserved so much better. And he had longed to give her that; a shoulder to cry on and someone to help with the burdens of caring for a terminally ill child. But he’d chickened out. His own grief and fears getting the better of him; unable to handle the realization that he was a total failure. So he ran. Volunteering to head overseas instead of staying behind and stepping up. Leaving his wife to handle everything on her own and his son to wonder what he’d ever done to deserve being abandoned.

It doesn’t hurt as much as now. Not just the trauma of seeing your child suffer and waste away, but the guilt and the regret his poor decision had brought about. It’s taken years of therapy to get as far as he has; moments of profound anguish as every single one of the skeletons in his closet came tumbling out. It took reliving the initial pain to kick start the healing; periods of immense grief for the child he’d lost followed by periods of extreme self loathing and time spent in the deepest and darkest bits of despair and desperation. But it HAD helped; the guilt and regret lessening, the hatred for himself losing some of its power. It will always linger just under the surface; the sting of the decision he’d made, how he sees himself as a monster not just because of it, but because of the things he’s had to do while on the job. Killing had never been about satisfaction or enjoyment. It had always been a means to an end; his chances of survival hinging on whether he could be quicker to pull the trigger or if he could outwit, outsmart, and out strength his opponents. And the only times he had gotten some pleasure out of it -other than just recently in Laos and Cambodia- had been five years ago. When he’d brutally and bloodily taken the lives of two of Mahajan’s men in an elevator in Mumbai, and when he’d had no chance but to eliminate that threat that had drugged and attacked him first. It had been personal then; threats made against his wife and his children. And taking the lives of those who would have delighted in torturing and murdering his family HAD given him a sense of satisfaction.

The demons of the past don’t carry as much weight now. Their power significantly decreased. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t moments when self hate and disgust DON’T return. When his mood is dropping and he’s more prone to returning to the pain and the regret of the past. It doesn’t happen often; medication and therapy helping to keep those moments to a minimum. But they do make an appearance. Self loathing making a comeback; reminding him of all the things he’s said and done that DO make him a monster and telling him that he doesn’t deserve the life he has now. That he’s committed way too many heinous acts to ever be truly forgiven. Absolution would never come his way; he's too far gone for THAT. In the same way guys like him aren’t allowed to love and be loved in return. And that’s when the fear kicks in; the concern that his life is way too good to be true and everything that is beautiful and perfect in it will be taken away to teach him a lesson. His protectiveness stems from it. The fear and worry profound; driving him to hold on to what he has even tighter than usual. On those days it all becomes too much to bear; a tightness in his chest and an ache that reaches to his very soul.

Some of that returns now; the fear that tugs at his chest and gnaws at his stomach. It had started last night; decorating the tree with the kids and coming across the ornament that Millie had made for Austin years ago. It’s always bittersweet; remembering what he’d lost while reminding himself of everything he has now. Had things gone differently and Austin never gotten sick, life would have been dramatically altered. His marriage somehow managing to be salvaged despite her inability to stay faithful, or at the very least being able to co-parent peacefully and amicably. He would have stayed in the military; grief and regret and the feelings of failure never turning him towards alcohol and pain meds to numb the pain and effectively ending what could have been a great career in special forces. Had he stayed with SASR and kept on the straight and narrow, mercenary work would have never even been on his radar. And that’s when things become complicated and troublesome. Even if his marriage HAD still fallen apart, there would have been no chance of ever meeting Esme. It WAS the job that led him to her; years as a hired gun somehow culmination with him coming face to face with who would turn out to be the love of his life. He had always thought he’d loved Sarah; she’d been his high school sweetheart and his first of many things. And it wasn’t until he was thirty-five that his eyes had been opened to just how wrong he’d actually been. Simply by chance meeting someone that would -even twelve and a half years later- take his breath away. Who would see past his jagged edges and the amount of baggage weighing him down and take a chance on him; looking past the mess he’d made of his life and patiently tearing down all the walls he’d build up around his heart. Who still looks at him as if he’s the most incredible man on earth; loving him with everything she has and everything she is and possessing an extraordinary amount of blind faith and trust.

She IS love. Everything that is beautiful and perfect about it. Never given up on him or them. Had Austin NOT died, he never would have found her and would have never known real love in its purest and most unconditional of forms. And his kids wouldn’t exist; seven incredible little human beings that he’d had a hand in creating. And even if he could go back in time and change things, he wouldn’t. He would choose to bear the pain of Austin’s death and the punishment that came with the horrible choice that he made. In the same way he’d accept the Dhaka job a million times over; taking a million bullets to the neck if it meant he’d be rewarded with what he has now.

*****

She lies with her back to him and her head resting on his arm. It had long ago fallen asleep; pins and needles stretching all the way from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers. They’d decided to bed down in the sunroom; pushing the love seat and the couch together to form a ‘nest’ and then fetching old comforters and pillows from the downstairs linen closet. Sometime in the early morning hours, she’d moved closer to him; briefly waking from her slumber long enough to move from her stomach to her side and then snuggling tightly into him. It’s a common occurrence if she has a bad dream. A desire for closeness; needing the feel of his much larger and bulkier frame against hers, quickly comforted by the warmth that radiates from it. His own eyes had never opened, body moving instinctively as he slid one arm between her head and the pillow while the other wrapped around her waist; drawing her even tighter against him, palm flat against her stomach and his face buried in her hair.

In the years he’d spent between his first marriage falling apart and meeting Esme, he’d gotten used to sleeping alone; enjoying the space and the freedom that came with having the entire bed to himself. In Dhaka, he’d been more than prepared to sleep on the floor until tempers flared; a heated argument erupting, fuelled by both sexual frustration AND tension, and his worry and fears surrounding what he was actually feeling towards her. It had taken some getting used to; having a body in bed with him throughout the night and waking up with them still there in the morning. But the adjustment had come quick, and by the third night he’d found himself actually enjoying the way she’d move closer to him; loving the feel of her skin against his and the brush of her hair and that soft, beautiful scent that lingered in it. Now he struggles to find rest without her. Used to the sound of her breathing and the weight of slender frame against his and the little noises she makes in her sleep; the soft sighs and the occasional murmur and giggles and the moments she starts to carry on very detailed conversations. All those little things that make her, her. And that he misses horribly when he’s away from home.

She rolls over to face him, eyes remaining closed as she issues a long, soft sigh and her hand comes to rest on his hip. The tips of her fingers dip below the waistband off his sweats; thumb repeatedly brushing against the slice of skin between the top of his pants and the hem of his t-shirt. For several minutes he watches as she sleeps. Eyes taking in every inch of her face; smiling and marvelling at the thought of how he’d not only somehow managed to both find her, but have her fall in love with him. She’s beautiful; the freckles splashed across and down the bridge of her nose, the long, dark eyelashes that skim the tops of her cheeks, the curve of her lips and the smooth line of her chin. It’s in those quiet moments where he only sees the damage done to her; the handful of small scars left behind from Mark’s fists and whatever ‘weapon’ he could get his hands on; electrical cords, wire hangers, heavy work boots and porcelain mugs and plates. There’s more. So much more. Disturbing ways that her ex husband had come up with to torture her both physically AND mentally.

There’d been other abuse as well; moments she’d been forced into sex itself or terrified into performing acts. And while it’s all equally vile and disturbing, THAT bothers him more than anything else. The fact that someone could violate and betray her in such a disgusting way. Someone that was supposed to love her; who’d taken vows to honor her and cherish her and care for her. And when she finally confessed the true extent of the abuse, the full story had sickened him; horrified and enraged at the thought of anyone touching her...the love of his life...in such a way. And it’s amazing. The fact that she’d not only managed to survive the abuse with her spirit and sanity intact, but that she’d been so willing and able to trust him. Giving everything of herself from that very first night in Dhaka; placing both her body and her heart in his hands and having all the faith in the world that he wouldn’t destroy them.

He places a palm over her ear; fingers splayed against her dark tresses and his thumb tracing the faint scar that cuts through the middle of her right eyebrow and travels up into her hairline. And when his hand moves to the back of her head and his lips find her brow, she gives another sigh; long and content, warm breath wafting against his skin. A soft smile curving her lips as her eyes flutter open and meet his.

“Sleeping beauty awakes,” he greets, and combs his hand through her hair, allowing the silky strands to slip slowly through his fingers. Lips pressing against her brow, followed by the bridge of her nose.

The smile broadens and those dark eyes sparkle. “Morning.”

“Morning. You good?”

“For the most part. You alright?”

“I’m perfect. It actually turned out to be a lot more comfortable than I thought it would be. You sleep okay?”

Esme shrugs. “I’ve had better.”

“You got up pretty early. Bad dream?”

She nods.

“You want to tell me about it or…?”

“Not really. It’s not something I want to relive.”

“Was it about me?”

“And Ovi. And me.”

“So a Dhaka dream?”

“Unfortunately. The first time there. And I haven’t had a dream about that in a long time. I was kind of hoping I’d never have one again, but....”

“Like Doctor Klein said, it’s never going to go away completely. It DID happen. We can’t pretend it never did.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to dream about it. It was bad enough living it. Do I really have to go through it all over again? While I’m asleep? It’s been twelve and a half years. Since it happened. And I haven’t had a dream about it in at least three. Now all a sudden it’s starting up again? What the hell is that about?”

“Me going away probably brought up some bad shit. And you’ve been stressed. That’ll do it.”

“I’m always stressed at Christmas. I always work myself up. Over stupid shit.”

“Doesn’t help that your mum sent that stuff from the kids and she’s been calling five times a day.”

“She knows what she’s doing, you know. This is a ploy. To fuck with me. She doesn’t bother for years and then all of a sudden decides to play the role of the perfect, doting grandmother? How long has she spent purposefully ignoring our kids? Treating them like second class citizens? Playing favourites? She pretty much stopped keeping track after Declan. I’m surprised she even remembered we had three more after him.”

“I’m kind of surprised she even remembered ANY of their names.”

“She’s not doing it for them. It’s not because she loves them and wants to spoil them. Her love is conditional. It always has been. And she knew getting in contact would bother me. That it would get under my skin and I’d dwell on it and I’d eventually cave and get in contact with her. Isn’t it enough that I sent a text message thanking her? Or that I’ll have the kids make thank you cards and send them to her? Do I REALLY have to talk to her?”

“Normally I’d say just ignore her and I’d remind you that you don’t owe her or anyone else in your family anything, but she’s only to keep calling. She’s only going to step it up and get worse. And seeing as we’d like to enjoy Christmas and have a nice peaceful holiday…”

“Maybe I should let my phone die and we’ll just use yours. Chances are she won’t message you.”

“The perks of being at the top of her most hated list, I guess. Why don’t you just block her?”

“Because then she WILL get a hold of you. And that won’t end well. You’re due for losing your shit on someone. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

“Not like she wouldn’t deserve it.”

“I’ll just keep ignoring her. Maybe she’ll get the picture and just give up.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just talk to her and let her say what she has to say? Let her run her mouth and hang up on her. Then block her. Boom. Done.”

“I don’t want to hear her shit though. I’m already not in a good place. Mentally, speaking. Why let her make it worse? That’s just asking for trouble. And I really do not want to spend my Christmas doped up on Valium or drunk off my ass. Maybe you could message her. From my phone. Pretend you’re me. Telling her off.”

“I’m pretty sure she’ll know it’s me. But I’ll take one fo the team. She already hates me and wishes I was dead. Can’t get any worse than THAT.”

“Who gives a fuck what she says. Isn’t that what you always say? Fuck what my family says? Let’s NOT talk about them.”

******

She wriggles closer to him; the fabric of her plaid shirt pressed against his chest and her cheek resting on his pillow. A hand sliding under his tee and over his ribs and around to his back; fingertips repeatedly grazing up and down his spine. And he lays a palm on the back of her head and presses his lip to her temple; allowing them to linger there for several seconds before resting the side of his nose against hers. Neither speak as time ticks on. Eyes closed and warm breath tickling skin. The tips of his fingers burrowed in her hair and gently massaging her scalp as hers continue their exploration of his back; travelling over the various and tracing the outline of the tattoo that sits between his shoulders. It’s when she reaches the scar left behind from Nathan’s attack that he pulls back to look at her, finding those dark, soulful eyes staring up at him.

“Does it hurt?”

Tyler shakes his head. “Not this morning.” Some days there’s discomfort there. More a tightness than an actual ache; damage done to the nerve sometimes causing loss of sensation into his hip and down the back of his leg. Other times it feels as if the wound is freshly acquired; a burning and throbbing that reminds him of the moment Nathan had stuck his fingers into the bullet hole to cause more pain and inflict greater damage.

“It’s been okay? For the most part?”

“More good days than bad days. Sometimes it feels like there’s something stuck in there; moving around and pressing against shit.”

“There’s no actual chance of that, right? That they left something in there? I mean, they showed me the bullet. They got it all out. Or at least it looked like it did. Do you think something could have been left behind? A small fragment? Do you think…?”

“I think you need to stop worrying. It’s been five years. Almost six.”

“Even after twelve years, I don’t think you fully comprehend that I CAN’T stop worrying. It’s who I am. I worry about the people I love. And I love you a bit more than everyone esle, so…”

“A bit more, huh?”

She grins and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Just a bit. You know what would be nice? If we could stay here all day. Right here. Cuddled up just like this.”

“It would be,” he agrees, and slides his forearm between her shoulder and the cushions; hand coming to rest on her upper arm, thumb repeatedly brushing against smooth skin. “But..”

“No,” Esme protests, and nuzzles her face into his neck; head under his chin and her nose pressed against his Adam’s Apple. “No ‘buts’. I don’t want to hear any ‘buts’.”

“As much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, we DO have kids. Who very shortly are going to discover we’re not upstairs and come looking for us.”

“Let them fend for themselves. We deserve a break. A mommy and daddy break.”

“Few more months, babe. And then two weeks. Just us.”

“In Santorini,” she reminds him.

“Wherever you want to go, that’s where we’ll go.”

“Still doesn’t mean I WANT to move anytime soon. I’d still rather lie here with you all day. Preferably with less clothes on.”

“I was hoping for totally naked, myself.”

“Me too. Just lie, totally naked, and make love. All day?”

“All day?”

She pulls back to look at him; a grin playing on her lips and her eyes sparkling playfully. “What? You don’t think you have it in you anymore?”

“I was more worried about you no longer being able to handle that kind of thing.”

“Oh don’t you worry about me. You know how resilient and tenacious I am. And how I’m fully committed when I’m really into something.’

“I’ve seen all of that first hand. I could handle it. I’d need water and food breaks, but I’d be game.”

Placing her elbow on the cushion below, she props the side of her head in her upturned palm, fingers of the other hand tracing the tattoo that decorates the left side of his neck. “Remember our little apartment? Outside of Sydney?”

“I do. I remember it very well.”

“When you finally got out of the rehab place and were finally able to live there full time? Instead of just weekends home? We had A LOT of those days in bed. Enjoying each other as much as we wanted. Rarely wearing clothes even when we DID leave the room.”

“The good old days, you mean?”

“We had some really good times in that little apartment. It was kind of weird though, don’t you think? Living together and having a baby while still in the process of really getting to know one another? It was strange. How we tackled things. Wasn’t exactly a normal way of going about it.”

“I figured we didn’t start out normal, so why bother going that way?”

“There was definitely nothing conventional about how we met. It’ll make a great story one day. For one of our kids to tell on our fiftieth anniversary.”

“Only thirty eight more years to go. Think you can handle it?”

“I think I’ll be okay. Do you think YOU can?”

“I’m pretty sure that if we could survive the past twelve years...especially the last five...that there's nothing we CAN'T get past.”

“Listen to you all sappy first thing in the morning,” she teases, and hooks a finger around the chain that dangles from his neck and pulls him into a kiss. “By the way, your daughter and I had a very interesting conversation yesterday. While you were out with the rest of the spawn.”

Sighing heavily, he presses a final kiss to her forehead and then rolls onto his back; hands pushing through his hair before clasping them together at the nape of his neck. “If it’s about periods or boys, I do NOT want to hear it.”

“I’ll go easy on you; I think I’ve tortured you enough for the time being. I still say you need to be prepared. Just in case…”

“And I’ll let you do what you need to do to get me prepared. I have faith in you. That you won’t throw me to the wolves.”

“I would never.” She rolls onto her stomach and props herself up on both elbows. “And this isn’t about Millie herself. Just something she’s concerned about.”

“And you promise it’s not about her period or boys?”

“I promise. It actually surprised me. And I thought with having a mercenary husband and after birthing four boys, that there was nothing that could possibly surprise me anymore.”

“Is she okay? Millie?”

“She’s fine. She’s Millie. There’s nothing wrong with her. Like I said, it isn’t really about her. It’s about something she’s worried about. And to be honest, I’m kind of worried about it too. A lot worried, actually.”

“You’re starting to worry ME now.”

“It’s about Alannah. And her home life.”

“About how badly it sucks?”

“Pretty much. I mean, you’ve seen it first hand. You’ve been in that home. You’ve talked to her parents. You know what they’re like.”

“If you mean emotionally absent and full of shit, yeah, I’ve seen it. Those people are fucked up, babe. I don’t know how you can have that much money and have nothing all at the same time. I don’t get it; how people can be that soulless and empty. And that's saying something when it comes from a guy that kills people for a living.”

“Normally this is where I give you a stern talking to about how that’s not all you do, but I’ll let it slide. For now. You’ve been in that home. A handful of times. You’ve talked to them. On the outside, everything looks great. They drive luxury cars, they wear designer clothes, her mother is practically dripping in expensive jewelry everytime I see her. I mean, they send her to a really expensive private school. They put on a pretty good show, you have to admit.”

“It’s what they want people to see. They want everyone to think everything is perfect. That they have a great life. Trust me, there’s nothing great about it. Not for the kid, anyway. And I grew up with someone with no soul or moral compass. That house? Worse vibes than the one I was raised in.”

“Which is saying a lot. You lived a shitty life. You’d recognize the warning signs. You were THAT kid.”

“So were you. You didn’t get your ass handed to you on a daily basis, but the mental stuff is just as bad. If not worse sometimes.”

“So we BOTH know how horrible it is. Growing up where we’re not wanted. And I know my mom always put on a big show for everyone. Acted like life was amazing and that she was the perfect mother. Behind closed doors? Mommy fucking dearest. Both of us deserved so much better growing up And so does Alannah.”

“I agree. She does. So where do we come into this? What’s Millie worried about?”

“It’s not just Millie that’s worried. I am too. I know how bad a crappy upbringing can fuck someone up. I’m a mess. And most of it leads right back to my mom. I’m the first to admit that I’m pretty fucked up. That I’ve got some long term issues I do battle with every day. Because of her. In the same way you have your own things; related to your dad.”

“Okay…”

“I don’t want that happening to her. I don’t want her turning into me. I don’t want her ending up with a guy like Mark because she has zero self worth and doesn’t think she deserves better. I don’t want her being forty years old and married to a second guy -an amazing guy, for the record- and completely unable to fully appreciate him because of some shit experience. I don’t want her turning out like this. I don’t want her spending her life hating herself and thinking she’s garbage because that’s all she was told she was. I don’t want some other guy ending up like you; loving someone so wholly and completely yet having to right another man’s wrong. That’s not fair. To you. Or to whatever guy she ends up with.”

“Babe, you…”

“Don’t try and deny it, okay. Don’t try and play it down. I know what I’m like. I know how bad I can get. You’ve spent the last twelve years having to prove you’re not him. And that isn’t fair. And I’m sorry. For ever making you feel like you’re not good enough or that you’re somehow like him. Because you’re not. You are so far from being anything like him. I’ve never meant to hurt you. And if I knew how to stop being this way…”

“Esme…” He lays a hand on the back of her neck and lifts his head to kiss her. “...stop. I love you. I get it. Why you are the way you are. In the same way you get why I’m the way I am. And you know what? We’re both fucked up. But somehow it works. WE work.”

“I just don’t want Alannah ending up like this. She’s still so young. There’s time to stop it. Before it happens.”

“How? You’re not her mother. What are you going to do? Go over there and over advice? Teach some parenting classes? Because that will go over REALLY well.”

“I’m hardly the person who should be teaching parenting classes. I’m not exactly perfect myself.”

“Your kids think you are. I think you are.”

“You think the sun shines out of my ass and that I poop glitter and fart rainbows. You’re hardly a good judge. But…” she leans in and presses a kiss to his lips. “...I love you for always wanting to stroke my ego. For always looking at me like butterflies fly out of my butt.”

“Your ass is nice, but it’s not THAT nice. And this stuff with Alannah. What can we do about it? She already spends more time here than at her own place. What more do you want?”

“Well she obviously likes being here. You’ve seen her at her own house. She doesn’t smile, she barely talks, hardly eats. Doesn’t even make eye contact with people. It’s like she’s nothing but a shell. And then she comes here and she’s completely different. She’s smiling and she’s laughing and she’s so loveable and sweet. And helpful. She’s a good kid. A good kid that deserves so much better.”

“You’re still not telling me what you think we can do about it. And we’re not moving here, so don’t even bring that up. We’ve talked about that. Numerous times. This isn’t the place for us. Not on a permanent basis:”

“I know. And to be honest, I wouldn’t want to live here full time. I love where we are. It’s private and it’s quiet and it’s beautiful. That’s home. No other place can even come close to that. It’s nice to visit here, but living? Definitely not a good idea. Especially for you. And Tanner. You guys need the quiet and the calm.”

“So what DO you want to do? You say you want to help the kid. How do we help her?”

“Millie brought something up. An idea. And it’s not totally horrible.”

“And that is…”

“She asked if we can bring Alannah back with us. To Australia.”

“As in permanently or…?”

“Temporarily. I think. For now. I don’t know; we didn’t really get that deep into it. She suggested it and I told her that I’d talk to you. So, here I am. Talking to you.”

“We can’t just take the kid. We can’t just toss her on a plane and take her home with us. There’s this thing called kidnapping, in case you didn’t realize.”

“And I told Millie that. That we can’t just take her with us. She DOES have a family. A shitty one, but a family nonetheless. We’d have to go through a lot of steps. Just like we did with Ovi. That was a lot of work. Getting everything in order so he could go with us to Colorado. I mean, we were in Mumbai for a month while the lawyers figured everything out.”

“It was a lot of red tape. And Australia’s a lot more strict than the States. About who they let in. And we’d have to get her signed up for school. She can’t just hang around the house. We both work and the kid has to learn. It’s not like we’d just be bringing her for an extended vacation.”

“But it CAN be done. I mean, I was allowed to stay in Australia.”

“Yeah, because we were getting married and we were having a baby. Two perfectly good reasons to let you stay. We bring some random kid home with us…”

“We’d have to call the lawyer. He’d be able to advise us. On how to handle everything. He’d probably be able to handle all the paperwork. And we’re not talking about adopting her. We became Ovi’s legal guardians. That’s a whole other ballgame. We’d just be taking her on an adventure. Let her experience something new. Give her a real family. People that love her and siblings to play with and drive her crazy.”

“And then what? We just send her back home a few months? Just ship her right back to the bullshit here? That makes NO sense.”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead. I just thought for the time being, we could help her out. Give her time away from her shitty life. And if in the end she really loves it and wants to stay, then we think about guardianship.”

“You’re talking about taking on another kid. That’ll make eight.”

“Two days ago, you wanted me to get my tubes patched up so we could have an eighth,” Esme points out.

“Yeah, one of our own. A baby. That we make. Together. Not someone else’s kid.”

“But that isn’t going to happen. We agreed on this. After the twins. That seven was enough.”

“But you’re okay with taking on Alannah? Just not with having our own baby.”

“I can’t do it again. I just can’t. I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. But I am babied out. And this is a kid that needs our help. You're always the first person that WANTS to help everyone.”

“Usually when I’m helping people, I’m getting sent somewhere to kill someone. Not taking in their kids.”

“I will admit, it’s not a fool proof plan. Or much of a plan at all. And I do have my own concerns.”

He reaches out and pushes a hand through her hair; allowing the dark tresses to slip between his fingers and then looping strands over her ears. “Which are?”

“I worry about us. Me and you. Our plates are full. We have seven kids we’re raising. And we’re doing a damn good job, you have to admit. We make a really good team.”

“Yeah, we do. We always have. Right from day one.”

“But we’re also taking time to nurture us. Our relationship. That’s important. How many times has it been drilled into us? At therapy? That we need to step away sometimes and make the effort to connect and stay close and keep our bond the way it is. We’ve had to work on that. A lot. We’ve both had to step up to make sure we didn’t fall apart. To make sure we remember that we’re not just two people raising kids together. And I don’t want to lose that. Those moments with you.”

“I don’t want to lose that either. It’s a big deal to me. You know that. Keeping things together. Keeping US together.”

“And you’ve been amazing. At putting in the time and the effort. And it’s gone so well. We are so much stronger than we were five years ago. By A LOT. You know how cheesy it would always sound? When you’d hear people talking about loving someone more and more every day? I thought it was so stupid. That there was no way that was true. And in these last five years? I’ve realized how wrong I was. Because I DO love you more every day. And I’m scared something will come along and wreck that.”

“But? I know there’s a ‘but’ coming.”

“But I can’t help but worry that we’re letting Alannah down. That we’re just leaving her to suffer and grow up to be just as messed up as us. We have a chance to help her. And I don’t think my conscience will let me just walk away and leave her here. Not without at least trying to help.”

Tyler nods slowly as he considers her words; absentmindedly twirling a strand of her hair around his index finger.

“You don’t think I’m selfish do you? That I want to help? Even thought I’m scared of fucking us up?”

“Actually, I think you’re selfless. Not selfish. If you’re willing to risk something to help this kid....”

“I don’t want to risk anything. That’s the problem. I want to help, but I don't want to jeopardize us. That’s the last thing I want. Because we have come so far and we are so much better now and we’re so much stronger. I do not want this to be a case of a hundred steps forward and a thousand steps back.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures her. “I won’t let that happen. We just keep doing things the way we are. We make each other a priority. Like we've been doing for five years now. Taking on Alannah is not going to change that. If she was a baby or a toddler we were bringing aboard, I’d say no way in hell. Because that would be a lot of work and yeah, things would fuck up. Between us.”

“So what can we do? To help her. You want to, right? Help her?”

“I do. But…”

“I KNEW that was coming.”

“...it’s not just as easy as taking her back with us. I wish it was. But it is NOT that simple. And you know that. From the experience with Ovi.”

“I do. I DO know that. And I told Millie as much. That we had to jump through a lot of hoops to be able to bring him with us to Colorado.”

“And I don’t mind putting in the work and calling the lawyer and putting this out there to him. But it’s only going to work if her parents are on board. And honestly, I don’t know how the fuck we’d go about that. Talking to them.”

“You talked to Mahajan. About Ovi. You went to the prison in Mumbai and spoke to him.”

“That was an entirely different situation. He knew he couldn’t provide a proper home for his kid. He knew he couldn’t keep him safe. He didn’t really have a choice, and he knew that. But I can’t just go walking into Alannah’s house and tell her parents I want to take her to Australia. I can’t just say ‘you’re shit parents, give me your kid’. They’ll tell me to fuck off and most likely call the cops.”

“I guess that wouldn’t be the perfect way to approach the subject. But we could. Talk to them. Rationally. And calmly.”

“And they could turn around and tell us both fuck off and then forbid their kid from coming over here. Which means we break Alannah’s heart AND our daughter’s.”

Sighing heavily, Esme places her forehead against his chest and groans dramatically. “Why does this have to be so hard?”

“We need to figure out how to approach this. Without stirring up the hornet’s nest. And we can’t just make a decision like this overnight. We need time to talk about this. REALLY talk about it. Because this is a huge deal. This isn’t just bringing the kid for a vacation.”

“But we will? Talk more about it?”

“Can we get past Christmas first? Because I would really like to get through this holiday with what’s left of my sanity somewhat intact.”

“Maybe after New Years Eve. Then we can sit down and really talk it out. Pros and cons. The whole nine yards. We don’t need to rush into this. There’s a lot of time before we head back home. And if we DO decide to take her and her parents agree, we’ll need to give the lawyer some time to work on getting past the red tape.”

“I’m not promising anything, Me. I’m not going to sit here and tell you that I want to do this and I think we should. I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t know if it’s a good idea. But I WILL think about it. And talk about.”

“That’s all I want,” she says, and presses a kiss to his cheek and then the corner of his mouth before placing her head upon his chest.

“You know…” he runs a palm down the length of her hair, then rests it on the small of her back. “...I don’t know what kind of hoodoo voodoo black magic you got going on, but I seem to get talked into the most fucked up shit.”

Laughing, she places her chin on his chest and looks up at him. “It’s the eyes. They get you every time.”

“And the ass. And the things you let me do to it.”

“We are NOT having that particular conversation. That’s just a no from me. We can go there, but we don’t need to discuss it. And speaking of going places, today’s the day.”

“Your little shopping trip with Desi. You ARE going to spoil yourself, yeah? No buying anything for me or the kids. We don’t need shit. This is all about you. So go crazy. Buy a whole fucking store if you want. I do NOT care.”

“Any requests? Something you’d like me to buy? Something you’d like to see me in?”

“Not really. I prefer you out of clothes, not actually IN them. But maybe something sexy?”

“Sexy as in a dress to wear for a night on the town or…?”

“Sexy as in only for my eyes to see.”

She grins. “You mean bedroom sexy.”

“Exactly.”

“I thought you didn’t care about the packaging? I thought you only cared about what’s underneath?”

“I don’t usually care. But, I do have plans. For New Years Eve. After Ovi’s wedding.”

“Really?” Her eyes sparkle mischievously. “What kind of plans?”

“It’s a surprise. But I think something sexy would fit right in.”

“Is it mommy and daddy ONLY plans?”

“Yes. Just us. No kids anywhere near us. No interruptions.”

“You want to have wild and crazy sex all night. The kind of wild and crazy sex that we can’t have with kids in the noise. The noisy kind of wild and crazy sex.”

“That would be nice, yeah. I would love to have some wild and crazy noisy sexy with my wife.”

“In that case…” she slides further up the couch and pushes a hand through his hair, speaking between soft pecks that she places on his hips. “...I will buy something very, very, VERY sexy. Just for you.”

“You spoil me.”

“You deserve it. You’re a good man, Tyler Rake. You’re a keeper.”

“And speaking of spoiling…” Curling an arm around her waist, he unceremoniously dumps her onto the mounds of bunched up pillows and comforters and then sits back on his heels. A grin playing at the corners of his mouth as his palms travel along the backs of her calves; fingertips grazing against the skin of her inner thighs before applying gentle pressure in silent encouragement for her to open them. “...it’s my turn.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

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cutegirlmayra · 4 years

Note

Ever heard of Magic Kaito? Can you make a sonic prompt out of it? I'm not asking an AU, but as something to base on, like Sonic was forced by Dr. Eggman to steal, or has to beat him to it by stealing it first? And he has to keep it as a secret just like kaito? How would everyone react to it? Ooh and Shadow and the G.U.N. chasing him this time for actually being a "bad" guy!!! My how the tables have turned! and add sonamy in there too XD Thank you ate Mayra \uwu/ you're the best!!!

I can work with thieves in the night! Also, thank you so much for all you’ve done for @idontworkforsega! I really appreciate it and for that, have this prompt I tried to put a lot of thought into it and I just hope you enjoy it >w

PROMPTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN. DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT SEND ME ANY ASK TILL THEY ARE OPENED! WHICH THEY ARE NOT! SO HOLD THOSE BEAUTIFUL IDEAS IN A WORD DOC CAUSE IT BREAKS MY HEART TO DELETE GOOD PROMPT IDEAS! JUST WAIT, CUTIES! (followers) WE’RE TWO PROMPTS AWAY FROM REOPENING!!! WE’RE ALMOST THERE!!!!!!!

Prompt:

“Sonic just can’t be bad…” Tails repeated, not sure if Shadow understood him clearly.

His ears bent as Shadow dismissed him, flipping through a G.U.N file. “Stolen engine. Stolen gear. Stolen weapons. Stolen metal and utilities?” he put the file down and pinched the bridge of his eyes.

“Rouge, none of this makes sense.”

“They’ve got me stumped just as much, too.” Rouge, half-hidden in the darkness of the one light that swings above them, has her arms folded before walking over to take the folder. She flips it open again, “Seems he’s really being mind-controlled or something to help Eggman build something… but something on this scale would be impossible to not only create but to steal… Not without-”

“Sonic’s speed.” Tails hops into a chair, putting his hands together as he recently saw the footage he thought was back when Shadow was stealing the Chaos Emeralds… but it turns out all of that was to frame Sonic before… this time… Sonic really does seem to be the one causing the damage. “He never trusted Eggman. Even back in Chris’s world, he stopped Eggman. When everyone started liking Eggman, falling for his games, Sonic never once listened to anyone. He destroyed Eggman’s plan no matter how much the government fought against him.”

Shadow and Rouge turn to Tails.

He sighs, looking a bit loss for words. “He has to be mind-controlled… why else would he..?”

“It’s not mind-control.” The three turn to see Knuckles struggling to grip the door frame of Rouge’s hideout.

“Knuckles!” she exclaims, turning around, “Why are you..?”

She was shocked, her hand up by her face as she beheld the many injuries on him, as he fell to a knee, shaking…

“Knuckles!!!” she leaped and glided to him, helping him up as he struggled and fell to the ground again. “Ah!” like a doting friend, she let him lean on her. “What on earth happened to you?”

“S…Sonic… he’s not mind-controlled. He said he had… his reasons…” Knuckles looked torn-up just saying that, as though he tried to ‘knock’ some sense into Sonic and lost…

“No… he even attacked you?” Tails jumped out of the chair, coming down closer and falling to his knees in front of Knuckles’s crumbling strength. “Tell me! Tell me everything he said to you!”

“He’s got it. The Master Emerald.” Knuckles quickly spot through gritted teeth, one eye half-closed out of pain. “Tails… He’s not there anymore. He’s changed.”

“I don’t believe that!” Tails shook his head. “He… he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t abandon us like this!”

“Face it, Tails.” Shadow stepped up then, looking down at the boy as he began to break down. “He destroyed your plane, attacked his friends, and now has only one thing left to steal…”

Rouge looked up to Shadow, “You don’t mean…”

“If Eggman’s building what I think he is… then Sonic’s next target has to be it.” he turned back to the file Rouge once had.

He stared long and hard at it, not approaching it for a moment but then sternly grabbing it again.

“He’s going to come for G.U.N’s most secretive blueprints…”

“What are those..?” Knuckles dared to lift his shaking head up, as Rouge’s eyes shook in fright.

“You don’t mean…”

Shadow slowly turned around, closing his eyes. “Hmph… He appears to be…”

He opened his eyes.

“Coming for me.”

Amy wasn’t a stranger to G.U.N, though the boys may have doubted her and worried for her safety if Sonic really was mind-controlled, she knew through her own investigations that he may be after Project Shadow’s blueprints.

She didn’t know what he wanted with them, or why it seemed like he was helping Eggman, but she did know one thing.

She looked at the security guard passively leading her through to the commanding officer, but once her guard slipped, she too–scurried away!

“Phew~” Amy swiped some sweat off her forehead. “I thought she’d never give me a break.” Amy quickly began to sneak expertly around G.U.N’s most heavily secured locations… the top-secret files of Floor 42.

Floor 42 held everything there ever was that was blotted out of history, including Project Shadow and the Ark.

When things got dicey, Amy seemed to become invisible for a few moments, darting under the radar of the guards and their machine robots they had for double security…

However…

The robots, giant and bulky holding high-threat guns for the most serious of occasions suddenly began to short-circuit.

Amy gasped, peeking around the corner she had just managed to sneak by before realizing the sparking.

“727, what’s wrong with you?!” One of the men stated before the Robot’s body returned to normal… but its eyes shifted color and it began to fire on the lock doors.

“Ah!” Amy darted out, shouting as she grabbed the man and they tumbled to the floor before the robot could blast him to smithereens too.

“Great work there, buddy.” a familiar voice… could it be..?

There was a pounding up above the ventilation as Sonic used a laser to create a cut-out for him to shimmy through.

He put his hands to his hips, smiling at the robot and then clicking a few buttons from a device strapped to a black utility belt.

“G.U.N sure has more useful gadgets than Eggman could ever afford! Let’s say you and I get what we came for and then get out of here.” towards the end of that line, it sounded like Sonic turned less like himself and more serious, his smile left and the jokes had run out.

Was he coping?

Amy recognized the facial expression, and after helping the downed man get to the corner safely, she made herself known.

“Hold it right there! I know you don’t want to do this, Sonic!!!”

There was a moment of an involuntary twitch from Sonic,… but as he turned around, his eyes and face only held dark tones. It was as though… he really had changed sides.

“W-what’s wrong with you? You’re never like this… Sonic…” She began to lose her nerve, trembling a moment at the look of animosity in his expression. She shook her head and continued to be brave, “No! I won’t believe it! Tails went to find answers after you rigged the X-Tornado to explode! Your fingerprints… I just don’t want to accept it but it was you!” she lowered her head, her fists trembling. “They wouldn’t let me fight… to talk some sense into you… or at least find out why you’re doing this! Do you need Eggman to trust you? Is he blackmailing you? Sonic… talk to me! For once, just let us know what’s going on in that dense head of yours!” She stepped forward, and his eyes lowered to her foot that faced directly to him.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Sonic… let us help you! We can save you too!”

He seemed to pause a moment but then sigh and turn his head away, “No, Amy. You can’t.”

She seemed puzzled by his dismissal of her. “W-what do you mean..?” she stepped back a moment.

Again, he seemed to be thinking… before rubbing the back of his head. “Man… I knew I needed to get Tails and Knuckles off my backs… but I had really hoped you’d stay out of it.”

He cracked his neck and stretched out his arms a moment. “Guess you don’t leave me much of a choice now…” He began to walk towards her.

“S…S…S-Sonic… You wouldn’t hurt me… What do you mean by Knuckles? What did you do to him?!” She continued to move back, before bumping into something behind her.

“Ah!” she screeched as she turned around and saw Metal Sonic’s red eyes blaring into her own.

“SUBJECT IDENTIFIED. BAIT AND LURE.” it charged her.

When Amy came too, something was ramming into the files, fighting fearlessly but like animals as Amy looked to see the guard robot was defensively standing over her.

“W-… what?”

She leaned up and looked again, seeing Sonic slam into and create a dominio effect of the cabinet walls all toppling over onto each other. They were lined up pretty neatly, so Metal Sonic was able to keep shoving Sonic into each one.

“Sonic! I knew he wouldn’t hurt me!” Amy summoned out her hammer, “SOOONNICCC!!”

She charged, knocking Metal Sonic away as Sonic grabbed her arm.

“H-huh?”

“File located.” Sonic glared at Metal Sonic, but his eyes weren’t comforting to Amy at all.

He held up, with a bit of strain in his injured arm, a file with a red tag.

Metal, about to retaliate, looked like he didn’t really want to hesitate. “…PROTOCOL.” he seemed forced to comply and scanned it.

“FILE CONFIRMED.” he disengaged.

Sonic looked to Amy, and for a second, she did see sorrow in his eyes.

He held Amy’s arm up, “Ow!” Amy was pulled in the direction, grabbing her own arm to counter his forceful grip.

“…Lure confirmed.” Sonic glared back at Metal Sonic.

Metal Sonic seemed to know something Amy didn’t know in that moment. His eyes narrowed, as though challenging Sonic.

Sonic held his own, and even though Amy struggled, she wouldn’t fight against Sonic like this.

Metal looked to Amy… then grabbed her and pulled her over his shoulder.

“Hey, wait-!” Sonic went to protest but Sonic held his claws up, ready to stab him.

“BAIT CONFIRMED.” he seemed to be arguing a point…

Sonic gritted his teeth, shaking his outstretched hand into a fist… he held back… and lowered his head slightly. “…Mission… completed.”

Metal Sonic, as though taunting Sonic’s submissiveness, lowered the hand and patted Amy’s back. “RETURN ALL STOLEN ITEMS TO BASE.”

Sonic closed his mouth, just eyeing Metal head-on…

Metal lowered his arm but took a bold step forward, as though daring Sonic to try something… anything…

“MISSION…” his computerized voice replayed as though rewinding backwards, then he left a pause to see if Sonic would confirm the next instruction.

He tilted his head closer to Sonic, seeing he shut up a moment, and not say anything.

“Sonic…” Amy looked back over Metal Sonic’s shoulder. “You were protecting me right? Why aren’t you… why aren’t you fighting back anymore?”

He stayed with his eyes to the ground, which was currently the cabinet turned over and bent in where he was rushed into by Metal’s frame…

“Completed.” He closed his eyes, shutting Amy out once and for all.

Metal leaned back, his eyes lowering its eyelids as though disappointed he couldn’t fight Sonic while he was being compliant.

“DIRECTIVE, DR. EGGMAN MUST KNOW OF BAIT.” he opened something that flipped up on his arm. “DR. EGGMAN. FILE ACQUIRED. NEW BAIT ACQUIRED. PERMISSION-”

“New bait? Ohhh! If it isn’t Amy Rose! This just got interesting… I wonder how you took being captured by your own rescuer!” Eggman giddily cheered from the mic in the arm. “Good work, Metal Sonic, Sonic… I hope to see you both… very... soon… HOHOHOOOHOHO!!” he laughed his infamous, belly-deep gloat and turned the mic off.

Metal Sonic looked to Sonic then, the slide on his arm flipping back shut and tight. “SECURING BAIT.” He placed Amy down as she struggled, trying to trip up Metal Sonic, but his force was created to be matched only to Sonic’s brute strength… she couldn’t wiggle out of his hold so easily.

“L-let me go!” she turned back to Sonic, “Sonic, help me!”

Sonic tightened his eyes further shut.

“Sonic!” she watched as Metal Sonic rose a hand up.

“PROCEEDING TO INHIBIT TARGET FROM ESCAPE.”

Her eyes widened, he was going to knock her out? For good this time!?

His metal hand swung down…

But stopped.

Amy gasped and looked at him sparking.

“Y-Y-YOUZZZZ TRA-ZZZ-AIT-ZZZZ-TOR…” He malfunctioned as Sonic held down the device on his utility belt.

“Actually… I’m not the one that’s gonna fry you.” Sonic lifted the device as the guard G.U.N robot came towering into the room, basically knocking down the entire wall and door into the cabinet space–not being designed to come into the room–only to protect it.

The robot held up its large blaster and fired into Metal as Sonic grabbed Amy out of the way, controlling the robot.

Metal was blasted farther and farther back, and soon… out like a light.

“Sonic! You really did save-!… ahh…” She turned back, happy to have her hero back for a moment before…

His eyes were still hostile… still aggressive.

“…Sonic?”

He looked down at her, before throwing her like a tossed rag-doll over his shoulder.

“Ah! Hey! Sonic! L-…let me go! This is not how I like to be held!” She kicked back a bit but again, didn’t want to hurt him.

He went over to Metal Sonic’s steaming and heated metal, kicking the heel of his feet into the sliding device.

“Metal Sonic? What it is? Metal? Come in, Metal!!”

“Hey, Doc. Metal was being careless. Look like he got knocked out by one of the G.U.N guard bots around here.”

Amy stopped struggling.

“…Hmm… A likely story…” Eggman grumbled. “Don’t forget our little deal now… SONIC!” he threatened through the mic.

“Honest Eggman, I’ll bring him back to you. Free of charge! Then you can tell me how the little copybot rolled over.” his usual spunk had returned, but was it only for show at this point?

“Hmmm… Very well. Then I suppose the added bait… got away too?”

“Nope! No way she could escape me!”

“Oh yes… her darling Sonic still the darling of her dreams and fantasies then?”

Sonic remained silent��

Amy began to holler, “Eggman! What’d you do to him-!” but Sonic bounced her on his shoulder, and it hit the air out of her gut for a moment. “Ahh…!” she twitched a moment in temporary pain.

“Hahaha! Well, well. Looks like you are still following my commands. Excellent… then no hard feelings with Metal Sonic… Just make sure you bring that file and the girl to the base… Tails and the others will surely come to rescue her. Well done, Sonic The Hedgehog~” he chimed on that last part and then cut off the mic.

After Metal Sonic had cooled, more G.U.N robots and military began to appear.

“Alright, I’ve had a pretty rough day.” Sonic finally admitted, then smirked to them. “So I guess I need to let off a little steam. Sorry ‘bout all this.”

With no hesitation, Sonic took off and bested the G.U.N security while having both hands grabbing and carrying Amy and Metal Sonic out the front door.

It was infuriating the head of G.U.N, who launched everything, even a full-blown chase out to get Sonic.

While dashing away in a quick flee, dodging bombs and missiles heading their way, Sonic made sure to not let Amy escape.

“I don’t understand!” Amy tried to leap away when he rolled to miss a firing squad, but quickly bit the end of her dress and tugged, forcing her to yoyo back as he got up and grabbed her again.

“Gotta make everything difficult… including your criminal record now!” Amy folded her arms, huffing and puffing up her cheek in her scolding. “What? Being a goody-two-shoes suddenly doesn’t seem like the life anymore?!”

He never responded to her.

She once again summoned her hammer, ready to strike his head, but her eyes bent back in love and she looked to see another grenade launched at them.

With a surprised gasp, she hit it away as it exploded, and Sonic turned to see what she had done.

Finally, he did acknowledge her, grinning.

“Oh… OHHH!!! SHUT UP! Of course, I can’t help but still want you alive and well! Till death do us part, you idiot!” she let out her iconic cry and then threw her hammer at another guard, now attempting to slightly help in his escape.

However, she remained stubborn and folded her arms again, pouting. “Don’t you think this means I support your new life choices, though, Sonic!”

“Thanks, Amy.”

That blew her back more than the whiplash of him making it all the way to Eggman’s secret hideout.

“I appreciate it.”

“Y…You appreciate what..? That you broke my heart? Hmph.” she looked away from him, but couldn’t help and blush.

Amy soon realized that Sonic wasn’t being mind-controlled or anything like that at all! Eggman had inserted a small micro-explosion-chip into each of Sonic’s friend’s necks. If Sonic didn’t do as he was told, he would lose them all.

“Sonic! This isn’t fair!”

“Fair?” Eggman howled in laughter. “If I was playing fair, I wouldn’t have threatened lives!”

The plan was completed, Eggman’s new airship launched itself, planning to take out G.U.N and the biggest military defenses around the globe. With them disabled, Eggman was assured he’d take over the world without much resistance.

“Boring, I know, but I’m feeling a little lucky today~ Who knows! Maybe someone will rise up to fight you, Sonic. Wouldn’t that be something! HOHOHO!!!”

With Eggman’s laugh, Sonic stepped into the robotizier.

“Sonic!” Amy cried out, having escaped her cell and rushed into the engine room where Eggman and Sonic were. “You can’t do this! I’d rather have my neck blown off than watch you suffer!”

Sonic then paused as the machine came down around him. “Amy! Look out!”

Amy was surprised by that response but turned to see Metal Sonic swiping a claw at her.

It seemed Eggman didn’t just want ONE Metal Sonic…

Darting out of the machine, Sonic nearly got to Amy before his claw nicked her cheek, and he threw him over with himself into the lava pit Eggman had installed from the waste the generating engine created.

Eggman, amazed by Sonic’s fearless act, peeked over the side to see if they had really been incinerated… but Amy swooped her hand down after Sonic, gripping him with two hands as Metal flew up back into the air.

“Sooooniiicc!!!”

He smiled up at her, a bit of sweat all over him, as though he really was faking being alright with everything.

“Why can’t you just trust us for once! Just once! Let us know what’s going on with you!”

His eyes softened to her.

“Even if we all die, it’s better than having to fight against our friend! I’m not giving up on you, Sonic The Hedgehog! You’ve never stolen anything in your life! It was always just given you. But for once! I’m asking something of you that you can’t possibly refuse!!!” She began to let go of one of her hands on his, trying to stop sliding down the cylinder engine and towards the lava pit.

Eggman stuffed popcorn into his face, curious to see how Amy was going to save herself AND SONIC from this predicament.

Metal Sonic went to attack but Eggman held up a hand. “Hold it. Dead or robotized, doesn’t really matter in the end. Now… does it?” he then went back to eating his popcorn. “So long as Sonic’s out of the way, my plans for world domination can’t be superseded. Let the girl have her final moments of recongition~” he chimed.

“You’re going to do exactly what you’re still doing! Risking your life for the ones you cherish!”

Sonic couldn’t help but be fixated on her.

She struggled, her arm beginning to falter as it stretched to keep them both from sliding off and plummeting to their molten deaths.

“But in return, you must give us the same right! The same right… to… fight… for you… Son…ic..! AHHHH!!!” she strained her head back, feeling for the last ounces of strength left in her as Sonic, amazed, watched her swing him up and cry out as he was returned back to the top of the cylinder, large, beam-like engine that scaled the entire length of the open room.

Eggman spit out his popcorn. His whole body lurched forward, mouth hung open as he wiped heat and steam from his eyes. “WHAT!? Im… Impossible!!!??!?!”

Amy smiled through heavy breaths… “I’m gonna marry you… but you have to be my hero… my darling… for me to say I do… ahh… hhaaa…. Sooon…ic…” she slowly released her grip.

Pulling out a wire meant for lowering ones self into a room to snatch expensive jewelry, Sonic grabbed her with his wire and reeled her up.

Metal Sonic looked outraged, but due to his programming, he just turned to Eggman with a loud roar of his engine.

“Oh, fine! Take them down!” Eggman waved it off, pulling away from the scene. “Just make sure they don’t get away!”

Sonic pulled Amy up by him, as though… disguising the hug of relief.

“They’ve stolen Shadow’s files.” Sonic moved her away seconds after the embrace, “He was gonna make an army of me, but like Shadow.”

“A… Project Sonic?” Amy’s head was boggled then, but they quickly had bigger issues to deal with, currently…

Metal Sonic flung down towards them, but like a renewed tag-team, they began to fight him.

Through the outside metal-coating of the launched airbase, Tails fired the X-Tornado and took out Metal Sonic, blasting through the hide and then taking him down in the process as he was fired several times down into the lava below… and melted just the same.

Knuckles tried to retrieve his Master Emerald but Rouge was a double-agent, hearing about Knuckles’s micro-explosion-chip, she wanted to protect everyone as well.

The twist left Sonic still walking into the robotizer… but Amy turned Rouge’s heart at the last second, and Shadow finally disabled the engine which in turn, turned off the power of the ship.

Eggman’s bluff came out real fast as Tails hacked his computers, revealing that all he told Sonic was a lie and that no one was going to die.

“Pfft! You’re really gonna believe I made that whole thing up in one night sitting with a coffee cup that reads ‘Greatest Supervillian of all time’? Oh come now, Sonic, be sensible unlike your friends here. You know what’s best for them, don’t you, old boy?”

“I’m threw with having my friends distrust me, Doc.” Sonic threw the utility belt down.

“But I did happen to steal something actually worth keeping.”

Eggman rolled his yes, groaning, “Friendship?” he knew he was already beat…

The gang, Shadow, Rouge, Knuckles, Tails, and Amy all stood behind Sonic.

Sonic held his chest up proudly… before shrugging.

“Nahhh! It was the codes for the death generator bomb you implanted just in case a scenario like this happened!” he pulled out the device and started typing it in, “Heh, bummer.” He made a face, then clicked it.

Eggman roared and howled in vigorous anger after Sonic, but the gang all made it out safely.

G.U.N still handcuffed Sonic, saying he was saying locked up till he paid for this crimes.

As he walked by his friends, he apologized to each of them… but only looked at Amy, and then walked on by.

“Ah… Hey! Hold on!” She charged up to block the prison keepers from taking him away, spreading her arms out fully.

“You… You’re just going to walk away like that..? Let them take you somewhere where we can’t find you?” Her eyes poured out heartbreak, but Sonic only wiggled a finger in his ear.

As though being ignored, she began to drop her arms, but Sonic looked to a guard who nodded and let him walk up to her.

“You know,” He whispered to her, eyeing the guards as he did so. “I distinctly remember a certain hedgehog detective who managed to find out my next move before anyone else did…”

She slowly raised her head.

“If that hedgehog could find me out and save my life all in one day… then there’s no place they can keep me without her knowing about it.” he winked, smirking.

Her whole being rose up with his challenge, and with the understanding of his faith in her to bust him out and make a plan to do so.

“Just you wait, Sonic.” She nodded, determined to not disappoint him. “Through sickness and in health.”

His smirk turned more into uncertainty, as though he wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“And much longer than after death.” she put her hands behind her back and tilted her head cutely to him.

“Not death, Amy.” he spoke even quieter than before, that she had to lean forward and ask him again what he was mumbling. “Heh.” he smiled, giving her a bit of the Sonic charm as he whispered, for only her ears to hear…

“But not life, either.”

“Huh?” she didn’t seem to understand.

As he passed her, she heard a faint line cross the wind behind her…

“We’re never truly apart.”

but not a month went by before G.U.N was broken into yet again in their snowy base camp where a group of rebel thieves stole Sonic from right under their long, pointy noses!

Rouge was so proud. But strangely… threatened by the new recruits too.

Knuckles still denies he ever did anything illegal in his life, especially thieving!

#cutegirlmayra #sonamy #sonicxamy #sonic the hedgehog #sonic x #sonic prompt #sonamy prompt #amy rose #sonic x prompt

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quietlypondering · 5 years

Text

Timeless | Chapter 4

Read on A03 Ship: Prinxiety Summary: In a society where superpowers are the new era on the horizon - Virgil is happy flying under the radar, as much as he can, with government issued blockers. Life was… Normal - Or, at least, as normal as he could be. Until one day, as cheesy as it sounds, a simple train ride would change his life forever. Word Count: 1642 Chapter Warnings: Suicide Mention, Nightmares (including burning/boiling alive imagery, suicidal imagery/ drowning imagery. All of this will be in Italics if you wish to skip.) Tags: Superpower AU, Angst w/ a happy ending, unreliable narrator A/N: Thanks again to my wonderful beta reader @kolurize <3

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Burning. Boiling. The sounds of water bubbling away brings him to his senses. Virgil blinks awake - a feeling of vertigo sends him reeling forward, and when he looks up, the smell of chlorine hits him like a truck. He keels over, eyes blurry, head stuffy, and realises he’s standing on the edge of a swimming pool. And it writhes beneath his feet, forceful and unrelenting. He feels the heat rise, almost catching his breath in his throat.

Without any warning, he feels his feet slip. His heart pounds in his chest as he begins to fall, grasping for dear life for some sort of edge. He does - barely - his fingers numb against the rough side of the swimming pool. Smoke licks at his feet as he holds on for dear life. He tries to yell, to scream, to make any sort of sound come out of his mouth, but it doesn’t. After all, it’s hard to scream when you’re dreaming--

--Virgil awoke with a start - his head pounding, unremitting, like it was the worst hangover he’d ever experienced. Even the dull light filtering through the window was causing his eyes to ache and burn and pulse at the back of his skull. His chest tight, his arms heavy - Virgil could barely gather up the courage to move a finger, let alone an arm, much less his whole body.

He rolled over in an attempt to shield his eyes from the light, but all it did was force him into a bout of dizziness. He gritted his teeth, pulling himself out of bed with all the strength in the world. Virgil let out a groan, pushing his palms into his eyes in an attempt to get the pulsing to just stop.

He trudged over to the bathroom - startled, momentarily, by the way his face looked in the mirror. Pale and ashen, and a thin line of dried blood ran from his nose all the way to his chin. He grimaced, splashing some water in his face and thoroughly scrubbing the blood away, hoping he would at least look a bit presentable.

Quietly, Virgil shrugged on his hoodie and slipped discreetly out the door. His hands shoved deep inside his pockets. The feeling of cool wind at his neck made him shiver, yet was oddly comforting against his clammy skin.

He found himself wincing at every other step as he trudged down the street, garnering several odd looks from passersby. One little old lady even stopped and asked him if he was alright. She commented on how ghostly pale he looked - but when Virgil didn’t bother to answer (out of awkwardness, or his feverish stupor), she quickly left him be.

By the time Virgil made the audition, he could barely even remember why he was there.

His movements were weak and lethargic, so much so that as he stumbled through the door, he evidently made such a scene that those sitting in the waiting area had their faces contort into a look of startled concern.

Truthfully, he could barely see. He made quick work of tripping over his own feet, and as if on cue, another pair of feet appeared just inches away from his own. A pair of arms caught him and when Virgil finally looked up, he saw a familiar face. Curly hair. Blue eyes. A look of quiet unease set firmly on his face.

“Are you alright?” It was Roman. Roman, looking a mix between confused and concerned, tilted his head slightly. “...Do we know each other?”

Virgil could barely even think straight (or ever, really, for that matter,). But, he managed to squint at him in his semi-conscious state and mumble, “No. Not this time” before his entire world went completely black.

Hot. Hot hot hot, burning against his skin. He’s yanked away from the edge of the pool by an unknown force, and thrust deep into the vat of boiling water. He opens his mouth to scream, but hot, scalding water just enters his lungs. He struggles to breathe, writhing, trying to scramble his way to the surface - but he just sinks. Sinks all the way to the bottom of the pool and - and then he’s falling.

Falling hard and fast through the air. His stomach drops, but as he looks around he sees nothing - nowhere to hold onto - he’s just falling. The wind catches his breath. He closes his eyes, squeezes them shut as tight as they will go - and then… nothing. He opens his eyes. He’s inside a kitchen - or, rather, just outside one. He recognises it, it’s the kitchen from his old house.

There are voices that he can’t quite make out. Angry and bitter. He tiptoes closer, fingers just barely touching the door handle as he pulls and peeks into the room.

A kettle boils on the stove. Two people much, much taller than him argue. He hears no words, but he feels them, crushing and debilitating. There’s a pause. The two figures in the kitchen turn, two pairs of eyes stare at him - glower in his direction. There should be words, but there are none. His breath catches, and he shuts the door. The arguing continues, as it always had, and as the kettle begins whistling, he rushes out of the house.

He turns back. The whistling of the kettle still in his ears as he begins to run. He looks up at the sky, grey-black clouds tumble across it with purpose. With a gasp, he turns to find himself in a field. Beyond it is a sprawling dark forest - he watches as the trees begin to close in. The field becomes smaller, until it’s just a clearing, as if he’d changed the size of a camera lens. The space between the trees grows smaller, and he can no longer breathe, no longer see anything but writhing vines and rotting wood.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up - he feels eyes - eyes on him, like something is coming, like a sense of impending doom. The ground beneath him shakes, and when he turns - the sky is dark. Dark and clouded over, the only thing in the distance is a pair of too-bright headlights. As much as he tries, he can’t seem to tear his eyes away.

He looks down - feet glued to sodden wood train tracks. As he lifts his gaze up, he sees it coming, a large, black train. He opens his mouth to scream - Wait - No - but it continues forward in its unyielding course. He screws his eyes shut - arms moving to cover his head, bracing for the impact. But it never comes.

Virgil awoke shaken and confused - and hot, an unbroken fever bubbling beneath his skin. Distant hushed voices, something cool on his forehead, a touch on his arm. It occurred to him, briefly, that he in fact had no idea where he was. He bolted upright, immediately regretting it for the woozy, light-headed feeling that came across him.

“Oh- You’re awake. Are you alright?”

Virgil was not, in fact, alright.

He turned to the unrecognisable voice, squinting so he could attempt in vain to see through his hazy eyes.

“...You fainted. I’m sorry, I should’ve called an ambulance, but, well, I live really close and-”

It wasn’t until then that slowly, his memory began to filter back in, along with an inexplicable sense of dread. He frowned, trying to assess the unfamiliar location. Red bed sheets. Plush carpet. Desk. A bedroom? He turned, and it quite quickly dawned on him that he knew exactly who this was.

“What’s your name?” The person - now identified as Definitely Roman asked - and Virgil sat a moment with his mouth entirely agape.

“I’m… Virgil.”

“Roman. Roman Prince!”

Virgil felt a slow feeling of alarm creep into his chest. “Wait, the audition--?”

Roman shook his head. “..Sorry. We missed it.”

Virgil sat in shock for a moment. He felt his stomach drop. His chest tightened as he managed to say, “you missed it, too?”

“Well, yeah! You’ve been asleep for a few hours. I guess I wanted to make sure you're alright.”

While Virgil appreciated the sentiment - he couldn’t help but feel an incredible sense of disappointment. He’d made someone miss a likely important audition, all because he couldn’t keep it together for a few minutes. Shit.

Virgil panicked - screwing his eyes shut in an attempt to kickstart what little of his power he had left. Instead, as he was half way through working himself up, Roman placed a hand on his arm and gave him a pointed look. “It’s fine, you don’t have to do anything,” Roman said.

Virgil froze. “Wait, how do you…” Roman simply pointed to Virgil’s very obvious wrist, metal blocker wrapped around it, and grinned sheepishly. “...Oh.” He grimaced. Of course. “I’m still the one who caused you to miss it…”

“Look- Virgil, right?” Virgil nodded briefly. “Virgil, it was just a low budget show. There’s always the next one!”

There was a pause - Virgil could almost feel Roman studying his demeanor.

“...How do you feel, anyway?” Roman inquired.

Virgil barked out a laugh. “Like I got hit by a truck.” It rang hollow and bitter - and Virgil felt a pit growing in his stomach from the comment. He didn’t look in time to see Roman’s reaction, but...

“I know some people get weird about answering this but… What ability do you have?”

Instinctively, Virgil made to cover the blocker on his wrist with his large hoodie - but quickly decided against it. Roman already knew, anyway.

“It’s cool if you don’t want to talk about it-”

He pondered for a moment, mulling it over in his head before, without really giving himself much of a chance to decide, he said, “I can control time.” Another pause. “Well. Control is a loose way of putting it. It’s more like I can ride the waves and sometimes I get yanked underwater and can’t breathe.”

Roman frowned - and Virgil wondered if that’s all anyone ever felt. Damn Pity. “That does sound dangerous. No wonder you need that.” Roman pulled backwards on his chair. “My question is-- What’ve you been doing? You look like hell - uh, no offense.” Virgil swore he saw a twinkle in Roman’s eye. “How have you been using it this much? Are you on some sort of quest? Finding a long lost love?”

Virgil turned away, feeling his cheeks begin to heat up. “S-Something like that. I suppose.”

Roman leaned back in surprise. “That’s pretty admirable, dude. If someone did that for me, I’d marry them on the spot.” He laughed, “Not that I can- well, nevermind.”

Virgil flopped back onto the pillow, an arm hiding his flushed face. Slowly, he moved his arm a little so he could peek at Roman out of the corner of his eye. “...What’s your power, anyway? You have one right?”

He watched as Roman mirrored the same movement he’d done earlier - pulled his sleeve over his blocker, almost instinctively - and he shrugged.

“It’s kinda hard to explain.”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow. He could feel his mouth as it began to run completely dry. “Hard to explain?”

“Well I- I haven’t had it for long, as far as I know. It just kinda came in a few months ago.” He bit his bottom lip with what Virgil could only assume was embarrassment. “I haven’t told anyone about it before, really…” He trailed off meekly before adding, “apart from registering myself, of course.” He lifted his half-hidden blocker and flashed it to Virgil with a toothy grin.

“..So what can you do?”

Roman paused a moment to take in a deep, contemplative breath. An unmistakable look of discomfort passed on his face, before finally replying with--

“...I’ll show you.”

TAG LIST // @royallyanxious @kolurize @softanxiouspatton @purp-man @hexatrash

#timeless au #prinxiety #sanders sides #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #my fic #my fics #nightmares #suicide tw

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henrietta-ocs · 4 years

Photo

Character: Sage Foster Species: Witch Age: 28 Gender: Female Pronouns: She/her Occupation: Owner of Odds and Dead Ends By: Caroline

Biography

7 years old.

She knew it wasn’t allowed but she didn’t care. Whatever silly seasons her parents gave her for avoiding Trixie Wilkinson at all costs meant nothing. Trixie was 9 years old and quite possible the coolest person Sage Foster had ever met in her entire life. Sometimes her annoying little brother tagged along and ruined their fun but she often put up with it just because Trixie was still there. The trio spent hours out behind the abandoned mill down on the outskirts of town, jumping from platform to platform, spooking each other from behind doors, and causing typical childish mischief. With one difference: this was inter-species play. The Wilkinson children were werewolves and she was a witch. This friendship was forbidden by her coven and yet, here she was. Sage didn’t know, though, during their final moments of play, that it would be the last time she saw the Wilkinson children outside of school for a very long time.

When she arrived home, her father was waiting on the porch for her. She smiled her most convincing smile and walked up. “Hi, dad!”

He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Why were you with the Wilkinson kids again? You know you’re not supposed to play with them.”

Sage just blinked, trying to come up with a lie but she wasn’t fast enough. “Don’t tell me you weren’t. I did a locator spell.”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust and groaned. “Dad! They’re nice!”

“I don’t care if they’re nice, Sage. They’re wolves! Witches and wolves do not spend time together. End of story. You tell Bea and Trevor you’re —”

Muttering, she looked at the ground, “their names are Trixie and Mason.”

“Excuse me? I don’t care what their names are!”

“But—”

“NO. BUTS. Inside. Tomorrow, you tell The Wilkinsons you are DONE playing together. Understood?”

Defeated, “understood,” she walked up the front porch stairs and into the house.

10 years old.

Sage Foster was on her bed, sobbing. And not just 10-year-old sobbing, but truly, really, with reason sobbing. Her mother, the only witch in her life that treated her with a modicum of respect, was gone. And not gone, took a drive and moved to another state gone, but gone in the never coming back because of a spell gone wrong sort of way. Even at 8 years old, she was expected to have some basic magic skills under her belt — levitation spells for small objects, elemental control — but she didn’t. Her mother always nurtured her, telling her that it would come with time, practice, and focus. Despite her best efforts, the most she could do with a feather was make it wiggle around on her pillow. Her coven-mates were levitating cats at this point.

Her father had always been the harshest on her lack of skills. He was a senior advisor within the coven and she was an embarrassment. Not only had he said those words to her face but he’d said them behind her back, well, screamed them really. Loud enough for her to hear from 2 floors away. Just because her bedroom was shoved into the attic did not mean she was deaf, especially when he was yelling as loud as he did.

In the middle of a crying lull, her bedroom door creaked open and a large fluffy black cat poked his head in, mewing softly. Sage reached out and grabbed at the air but the cat knew. He bolted forward, jumped onto the bed with ease and allowed Sage to pull him in tightly. “Monster, mommy’s died…” The cat, Monster, nuzzled Sage gently and mewed again, louder this time. And Sage broke down, yet again.

16 years old.

While it had been years since she’d spent time with the Wilkinson’s, she still saw them everyday at school. At first, staying away from them had been a game; she’d dip into empty classrooms or the bathroom to avoid Trixie in the hallways. All she had to do was look at Mason the wrong way and he’d bug eyed turn around immediately.

Today, though, it was one of those days that nostalgia hit hard. Trixie was at her locker, laughing with another wolf from her pack and Sage couldn’t stop staring at her. Eventually, it was too much and Trixie marched over, slamming her foot into the ground. “What do you want, Foster?”

“What makes you think I want anything from you?”

“You’re staring at me like you have something to say.”

“I have nothing to say to a flea ridden mongrel.”

That drew a snarl from Trixie as she stepped at Sage. Suddenly, a hand was on Trixie’s shoulder, pulling her back. “Hey…Trix…” Sage looked up and Mason was there, refusing to make eye contract with her.

“Let. Go.” Trixie was clearly upset that Mason had stepped in.

“We need to go. People are starting to stare. That was an impressive show but easy…” Trixie jerked her shoulder away from Mason, snarled again and bared her teeth, fangs glinting in the unforgiving hallway lights. Trixie turned sharply on her heels and b-lined for the exit to the parking lot.

Mason eventually relented, soft eyes landing on Sage. Smiling, Sage just shrugged. Mason shook his head and took off after his sister.

17 years old.

In just one calendar year, Mason Wilkinson had changed, significantly. While he had once been scrawny and kind of pathetic, he’d come into his own this past year. And Sage had certainly noticed. He was more confident, too, unabashedly making a point to intervene in her daily life whenever possible, if only to be an obnoxious pest.

Today was no different.

Leaning against her locker after first period, eating an apple in the most absurd way possible, Mason was there. Sage immediately frowned. “Awe, why the long face, Princess? I thought you’d be excited to see me. ”

“Move, mutt.”

“Ouch.” He kept a straight face, even if it stung a little. She hoped it did.

“Move.” She was smiling now, unable to stop the corners of her lips from turn upward.

“Ask nicely.”

“Move or I’ll spell you to the floor.” She wasn’t kidding, except, she’d never successfully cast that before. Or any spell, really.

“I’d like to see you try.” And there it was. The new smile. The one that made her stomach tumble. And God did she hate it.

18 years old.

Three weeks. Three weeks was a long time to be late. She’d been two weeks late before; hell, she’d been 16 days late before. But 21 days? A full 3 weeks late on her period. And a few times during the last 6 weeks with Mason she’d been stupid, reckless, and fuck, so damn stupid. She buried her face in her knees, curled into herself on her bed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” She slammed her head against her knees.

She needed to know for sure though, right? She needed a pregnancy test from the store. But she didn’t have a car and she couldn’t ask her dad to drive her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Fumbling with her phone she dialed Mason and slowly explained the situation to what she thought might have been a dead line. After getting him to say that he would come pick her up, she stayed curled up in her bed. Mason knew the drill; he parked a block away, facing her house, called her when he got there and she’d start walking. All to avoid her father seeing them together. While he could still do a locator spell on her, the last time she had told her father she was seeing either of the Wilkinson children was when she was 7 years old. Mason wasn’t even on his radar anymore, at least, not right now.

While she knew it took him over 15 minutes to get to her house from the trailer park, she had gone downstairs after only 5 minutes and good thing, too. Mason came flying down her driveway, gravel flying. She was so nervous though, that she didn’t even have the energy to yell at him for breaking their damn rules.

Utter silence the entire way, but that was how she wanted it. Tears slid down her face and Mason reached for her hand. She immediately recoiled and pushed herself as close to the door as she could without opening it. Everything made her tremble: the thought of being pregnant at 18 years old, the thought of having to tell her father that she was pregnant at 18 years old, the thought of the look on Mason’s face when she told him she was pregnant at 18 years old. Spiraling wasn’t even an adequate word for what she was doing right now.

The car jamming into a motionless state was enough to shake her from her compulsive thought process; she threw the door open and nearly ran inside the store. She knew where the tests were: right next to the tampons she should have already finished using this month. But there were so many. Her heart was pumping 10,000 miles an hour as she looked at 2 shelves worth of pregnancy tests. She was going to vomit.

Without thinking, she grabbed a pink box from the shelves of tests and went to the front, a hand absentmindedly on her stomach. After paying with cash she’d taken from her babysitting money, she asked for the bathroom. The older woman behind the counter offered an empathetic smile as she pointed to the back of the store. Sage simply nodded, flushed with embarrassment, before she turned and rushed off.

The directions weren’t complicated but there were diagrams and other warnings and percentages all over the document in her hands. She squatted over the toilet and tried her best to aim onto the little white stick. After successfully covering the test strip, and her entire hand, in urine, she waited. 180 seconds wasn’t a long time but right now, it felt like the clock was frozen. Did the second hand on her watch just…stop? No, she was losing it. Her watch was fine.

Before she’d even hit the 60 second mark, a large pink plus sign was evident across the readout window. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she immediately turned and puked into the toilet. Granted, not much came up; she hadn’t eaten in almost 3 days. She dragged her hand across her mouth and tried to breathe.

Now she had to put on a show. She couldn’t tell Mason. She couldn’t tell her father. This baby could not happen. This baby was a product of everything her father had warned her against for years — babies with the blood of more than one supernatural creature were destined to be a problem as far as her coven was concerned. Especially when half of this baby was Wilkinson; her father had been against their friendship from day one so a baby? That was absolutely out of the question. No, this ended now.

She put herself back together in the foggy bathroom mirror, wiping the mascara from her cheeks and pulling her hair back into a high ponytail. She exhaled and nodded, “you’ve got this.”

She walked outside, saw the concern plastered across Mason’s face, and that solidified her choice. She wasn’t some brittle girl who needed to be taken care of or saved. She was strong, independent, and plenty capable of handling this herself. She forced a smile and laughed, “looks like we’re lucky; someone’s smilin’ down…pass me my coat?” She gritted her teeth as she reached out.

“So…you’re not…?”

Sage laughed and shook her head. “All clear.”

Mason exhaled heavily and a smile cracked across his face; that fucking smile. That smile did this to her, to them. “Damn, Sage, that scared the shit outta me.”

He was scared? HE was scared? Her face dropped and she nodded. “Jacket?” Mason passed her the jacket through the window. “See ya around…” Sage turned on her heels and started walking.

“Y-yeah…alright. I’ll hit you up later?” She didn’t nod; she didn’t turn back around; she didn’t acknowledge him. The tears fell freely, but silently. Tomorrow. Or next week. She’d handle this later. For right now, she just wanted to get out of the bubble that Mason Wilkinson slowly pulled her into over and over again with that smile, his willingness to do whatever she asked him to…fuck… It was a bubble she willingly wandered into time and time again but she was through with it — she had to be.

Personality

(+) Strong-willed (+) Confident (+) Articulate (-) Self-sabotaging (-) Apathetic

#henriettaocs #oddsanddeadends #witch #witchoc #sagefoster #f

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moonlitcryptid · 6 years

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Steve : High School Reunion

Pair: Steve x Reader

Word Count: 2.6 K (wow it keeps growing)

Summary: (Y/N) leaves NYC and goes back home to check out their high school reunion. They’ve changed since their high school days and they want to show off. However, a certain love-struck super soldier followed them, which results in true feelings being put out into the open.

Warnings: I think cursing (but then again when is there not). Fluffff

A/N: I’m such trash I swear.

‘I’m late I’m late I’m late I’m late!’ (Y/N) repeated to themself as they shifted between walking and running down the busy New York sidewalk, trying to balance the four trays full of drinks while moving towards the Avengers tower. Being an assistant to the Avengers wasn’t an easy task, but someone had to do it. (Y/N) wasn’t even an assistant, really. They’re an Avenger, contracted by SHIELD after being on their radar for years.

(Y/N) was an intelligent human being. Almost too intelligent. Before they could even develop pimples, (Y/N) could hack into the Pentagon’s computer system. They thought it was ‘a fun computer game’. When they turned 18, SHIELD immediately swooped in with an offer (Y/N) couldn’t refuse; if they joined the agency, they could play with the most advanced computers on Earth. A majority of the tech ahead of its time. Of course, by ‘play’, SHIELD meant take them apart and figure out how they work, but (Y/N) was hooked.

Fast forward many years later, now (Y/N) works with the Avengers, upgrading their tech and staying grounded in the tower when they go on away missions to monitor them. It wasn’t the glamorous life that most of the team had; the fame, the money. However, it was a life that (Y/N) was happy to have. They had their own nicely spaced apartment (courtesy of Tony). The team and they were good friends, even family. Hell, they helped save the world. They could spare the ‘heartbreak’ of not being recognized on the street.

(Y/N) burst into the main floor at 9:05 AM, almost spilling the drinks trying to put them on the countertop in the kitchen. Not even a minute after, Tony tumbles in looking like he just got out of bed. He looked up at (Y/N) and the drinks and groaned in delight.

“(Y/N), I swear to every god out there, you are an angel.” He says as (Y/N) laughs and hands him his drink, still warm thank the gods.

“Good morning to you, too, Sleeping Beauty. Rough night?” They grinned as Tony nodded, almost chugging his coffee. The rest of the Avengers soon came in, sweat running down their foreheads from their morning training, and made a beeline right for their coffees.

“I swear, you’re too good for us!” Sam said, giving (Y/N) a side hug before grabbing his drink and leaving to who knows where. Everyone else grabbed their drinks, said their thanks, and went their separate ways. Well, except Bucky, Steve, and Tony; the last almost passed out at the bar.

(Y/N) grabbed their own cup of (drink) and sat down with the super soldiers. “How’s it goin’, (Y/N)?”

“Pretty good, Buck. What’s happening with you guys?” (Y/N) responds. Bucky raised his brow and looked at Steve, who returned his gaze with a pleading look; a look that went by completely unnoticed by (Y/N) as they were looking at their drink. Bucky just cleared his throat, gaining (Y/N)’s attention.

“Nothing too big, but, um… We were wondering if you wanted to go out and hit the town with us tomorrow night, though. Go get some drinks, dance a little. We’ve been kinda couped up in here for the past month.” He said, motioning to the both of them. Steve nodded enthusiastically, which was noticed this time. (Y/N) just smiled at him, and Steve grew hopeful. Sadly it wasn’t the news they were looking for.

“I would love to, boys, really. It’s just… I’m a bit busy tomorrow night. I’m heading out of town tomorrow for a couple days to take care of some things. In fact, I should get everything in order so I can finish getting ready at home. I’ll catch you guys later.” And with that, (Y/N) left the kitchen, leaving behind a defeated Bucky and sad Steve. Bucky turned to his friend and sighed.

“Sorry, Stevie, I know you wanted to get your chance with them. We can just ask (Y/N) another day.” Bucky consoled him, patting his back. Steve just sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, I guess…” Steve replied, looking through the kitchen exit hoping that (Y/N) would come back through. No such luck.

Although (Y/N) kept trying to help around the lab, Tony and Bruce knew that they needed to get home if they wanted to leave tomorrow morning, so they dismissed (Y/N) early to get ready.

It was 8 AM and (Y/N) was about to leave when their doorbell rang. Confused, they ran to get the door.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Steve said, a baseball cap and glasses adorning his head so he couldn’t be recognized in public. Of course, they could recognize him right away, and (Y/N) smiled before ushering him in. “I just wanted to stop by before you left. Looks like I caught you right on time”

“Yeah. I was about to head to the airport. My flight is in a couple hours. Oh! By the way, I made sure to order the team’s usual drinks to be delivered to the tower at 9 today, I’m bringing my laptop just in case your gear needs my help, and-”

Steve just laughed, which left (Y/N) confused. “(Y/N), you don’t need to take work with you everywhere you go. Trust me, the team and I can manage to tie our own shoes without you.” He joked.

(Y/N) relaxed a little and laughed, realizing he was right. They were putting too much thought into it.

“Look, it’s only going to be a couple of days, right? The team can live without you for that long.” ‘But I can barely live without you for a few hours.’ At least that’s what Steve wanted to say but stopped himself. He couldn’t let it slip. Letting his feelings for (Y/N) out could ruin the amazing friendship they had. He’d rather have them as a friend than not have them at all.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and picked up their suitcase, but it was snatched out of their hand.

“Allow me,” Steve said. (Y/N) gave a small smile and a nod, linking their arm with Steve’s as they walked down to the waiting cab.

“Name?” The woman at the front table asked (Y/N). They almost didn’t answer as they were lost looking around their old stomping grounds. Ah, high school. It wasn’t the most memorable time for (Y/N), but it wasn’t the worst. Sure, there were some snide comments made about them here and there, but (Y/N) was mature enough at the time to know that high school was a small part in the grand scheme of things and those bullies even smaller. In fact, they probably targeted (Y/N) because they knew that they were more intelligent and mature than they were. They were right. “Um, name??”

“Oh! Sorry, uh, it’s (F/N) (L/N).” The woman looked them up and down, a bit shocked, but still managed to find their name tag and told them they could go in.

The gym was adorned with stars and twinkling lights hanging down the ceiling, along with a rather large disco ball hanging down the middle of the room. It wasn’t a bad job.

The room wasn’t the only thing looking half bad. (Y/N) made sure to dress to compliment their figure. They wanted to show off that they had lost that weight and gained an eye for style. Now (Y/N) was a toned god and wanted everyone to see what they missed. And boy, did heads turn when they strolled in. Some people stared and whispered, especially after they saw (Y/N)’s name tag. Understandable considering a person they remember was a recluse with little care of anything outside of tech.

“(Y/N)?” They heard a voice say. They turned around and there was an old face; almost forgotten. “Oh my god, how have you been!”

Alison Oling. A social butterfly with a dark side. Unfortunately, (Y/N) was the one who saw that side up close, more than once. Next to her was the former quarterback; Chad, Chase, something like that. He never really talked to (Y/N) but never treated them badly either so he was ok in their book. (Y/N) cringed at seeing her obviously-botoxed face but still put on a small smile.

“Hello, Alison. I’ve been fairly well…”

“Oh, that’s so good to here! I mean, when we all graduated, I could’ve sworn you fell off the face of the Earth! Oh, you remember Chandler, right?”

‘Damn, I was close.’

“Oh, I can’t believe we’ve been together since high school. I mean right after we graduated, he proposed and it was the most romantic thing, right babe?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. It’s been a dream” Chandler said, clearly off guard, but he still put up a smile. Before SHIELD, (Y/N) wasn’t that great with anything without a computer chip, but now they could read people like a book. The ‘happy’ couple just stared at (Y/N).

“So, you have a mundane job? Dating anyone?” Alison asked. Of course, by that, she meant ‘Have you really done anything with your life?’ (Y/N) almost rolled their eyes.

“Actually, I -” (Y/N) quickly stopped when they saw the couple staring past their shoulder, mouths open. The DJ cut the music and everyone was whispering. ‘What the hell?’

When (Y/N) turned around, it was their turn for their jaw to drop.

Only a few feet into the room there stood their friend and fellow Avenger, Steve Rogers, in a rather nicely fitting suit with his hair slicked back. (Y/N) had to hold back biting their lip. He looked so fine. Steve looked around for a few more seconds before his eyes settled on (Y/N). He smiled and started walked over, bringing (Y/N) into a hug.

“There you are! Sorry I’m late. There aren’t as many cabs to find here as in New York. Hello, Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.” Steve said, a single arm wrapped around (Y/N)’s waist as he shook hands with Chandler and Alison. They looked back from Steve to (Y/N), still processing what was going on. (Y/N) took in the whole situation and just blushed, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and trying not to chug it. “So, how long have you known my wife?”

(Y/N) choked on the drink, now coughing to catch their breath. Steve rubbed their back and pulled something out of his pocket. A thin silver band with simple patterns etched into it. (Y/N) had to admit that was simple, yet beautiful. But more importantly, where the hell did he get it from? He put it on their ring finger and kissed their knuckles. (Y/N) didn’t know what to say. They just stood there, blushing profusely.

Was this a dream? The most perfect man that (Y/N) has ever met just said and acted like they were a real couple. (Y/N) swore up and down in their mind that there is no way in Hell the man they loved was actually doing this. They stared into each other’s eyes until Alison interrupted.

“W-Wife? O-Oh that’s nice. How did you meet?” She asked, still shocked. Before (Y/N) could deny anything, Steve spoke up.

“Actually, (Y/N) and I have worked together for quite a long time now. Although, it was only a few years ago that I had the courage to tell (Y/N) my feelings. We were in Scotland, on a mission to - well… you don’t need to know that… Anyways, the mission was complete and everyone else went back to the jet. Only (Y/N) and I stayed and just stood in the middle of the highlands, the sun setting behind the horizon. I could see the glow on their face. How their eyes shone like no other. Just by having them there, I felt the whole world stop. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. All I could think ‘It’s now or never.’ I told (Y/N) right there on the spot. I love them. I had loved them since I first saw them and I will continue to do so until my dying breath. The rest is history.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but melt while they listened. Was this how Steve really felt? All those missions, late nights talking, and even some sleepovers. Was his heart beating out his chest then, too, like theirs? Or was this some made up story to show off to their former schoolmates while unintentionally shredding their heart.

Alison got caught up in the story. “That’s, um… Wow… If you’ll excuse us…” She angrily looked at her husband, obviously upset that Steve’s story was much more romantic than their own, and dragged him off. Steve let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and turned to (Y/N), who was still recovering. Both of them heard the DJ put on a slow song. He held out his hand.

“Care to dance?” (Y/N) barely managed to grasp his hand before he pulled them flush against his body and start swaying. His eyes never left theirs. Both kept direct eye contact. (Y/N) didn’t know where the courage to speak came from, but they started once they made a mental connection.

“What you said… We were actually in Scotland on a mission almost four years ago. I remember how you stood with me on the hill, looking at the sunset. I also remember how at one point you called my name and were trying to say something, but you gave up and just went back to the Quinjet. Steve… What you said… Is that what you wanted to happen?” He became embarrassed. He knew he had been caught. He nodded.

“Yes. (Y/N), I’ve never known anyone like you… I can’t even put how I feel for you into normal words, but I figured preserving our friendship was more important than potentially ruining it. I’m sorry.” (Y/N) couldn’t believe their ears, but they felt on cloud nine. How could he not tell that they loved him, too? (Y/N) thought it was embarrassingly obvious at times…

“Steve.” The soldier flinched, fearing the worst. “You mean to tell me that this could’ve happened so much sooner?”

“Wha-?” He was cut off by (Y/N) basically jumping him, throwing their arms around his neck and planting their lips flat on his. Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as he wrapped his arms around their waist. (Y/N)’s lips felt so soft and warm against his. He became so entranced that everything else just melted away, leaving only them. He was about to deepen the kiss when (Y/N) pulled away, mainly to breathe.

Both of their lips were red and their mouths were still left hanging open, recovering from what just happened. No words were said. None needed to be said. Steve understood them completely, but (Y/N) still felt the need to talk. They grabbed his face and made direct eye contact with him, speaking slowly.

“I love you, too, Steve Rogers. I have for a long time now. You make me feel like there’s nothing I can’t do.” He smiled, kissing their forehead, cheeks, nose. He planted a kiss anywhere he could as (Y/N) laughed. He pulled away, smiling from ear to ear.

“I love you, too, (Y/N)... More than I could ever say…” It was (Y/N)’s turn to smile as they put their head and hands on Steve’s heart and he put his hands on their hips. The rest of the night was spent dancing, chatting, and stealing kisses. The night was theirs.

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #High school #High school reunion #high school reunion imagine #avengers oneshot #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers imagine #captain america one shot #captain america imagine

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hellomelusine · 6 years

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Impractical

Written for @lingeriewarsweek day 6 - Jungle Green. I’ll post a picture of the item at the bottom of this. Look, this was supposed to be a short silly thing and it turned into a not short thing with several surprises (but maybe still silly), and at the end of the day I really shouldn’t be left unsupervised with this ship.

Rey was just tipsy enough to laugh when Rose described Finn’s face when she walked into their bedroom wearing what sounded suspiciously like a torture device after she described that too at Jessika’s insistence. Tomorrow, or maybe even later today, when she was sober Rey knew she wouldn’t be able to look Finn in the eye at the table in the mess hall. Rose slid another drink at Rey when she started describing exactly what followed when Finn recovered his senses. Rey choked on said drink, the burn of alcohol stinging at her nose as Rose barreled on describing in lewd detail about how Finn kissed a pair of lips that were not on Rose’s face. Rey stood abruptly from the table, stuttered out some excuse and retreated to the bar.

“Rey from Jakku.” Maz appeared at her side, “Your boyfriend isn’t going to show up here and destroy my place again is he?” She asked, a gleam in her eye.

“My what now?” Rey asked, turning to glare blearily at Maz.

Maz waved a hand around. “Tall, brooding, would have the swagger of his father if he hadn’t had that worm of a man twisting his brain his whole life.”

In a distant part of Rey’s brain she knew she should vehemently deny what Maz was saying, but here in the present she found the words ‘no, he’s not coming.’ tumble from her mouth and the small alien gave her a beaming smile accompanied by a pat on the cheek before she wandered off to check on her other patrons.

“Shopping time!” Jessika shouted, appearing about as suddenly as Maz had and jostled Rey, the alcohol sloshing out of the glass and all over her hand and the bartop. “Comeoncomeoncomeonnnnn.” she rambled plucking the glass from Rey’s hands and tugging her through the front door where Rose was waiting, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“I think we’re too drunk for this.” Rey mumbled, following her friends into the shopping district of the city. “What are we even supposed to be picking up.”

“Pretty things.” Rose sighed, dropping back to put an arm around Rey’s shoulders, and arm that sober Rey would have shrugged off, but an arm that drunk Rey was leaning into, reaching up to grip Rose’s hand. “We’re going to get such pretty things Rey.” She sang. “Finn is going to faint this time. Then we can find someone for you to show pretty things to!”

OH. Kriff. They were at the store already, how had they gotten here so quickly. Jessika pulled the door open with a wide grin and Rey was pulled into some form of hell - there was no other word for it. The General had told them they could have one day of planetside leave to blow off some steam. It was a rotating schedule, to stay under the radar of The First Order, who according to intelligence were searching for them in a sector far from here, but that didn’t mean they could be careless. Sending Rey planetside was risky enough, but since it was where Maz had chosen to rebuild, Leia had been willing to risk it. Rey didn’t want to think about what Leia would say when she found out the girls had gotten drunk and then bought underwear. A problem for sober Rey.

“None of this looks practical at all.” Rey muttered, picking up something that was nothing but straps.

“That’s the point!” Rose stage whispered, untangling the item and holding it up in front of Rey. “It’s for fun. It’s to feel pretty.”

“Objectively.” Rey countered. Dropping the item to the table where it had been. “I already am pretty.”

“Confidence. I like it!” Jess chimed in, arms full of color. “How about...ok, you ever wanted to make a man beg before?”

“I have made men beg. Plenty of times.” Rey shrugged, both of her companions let out noises of intrigue. “Oh! You meant - oh.”

“Jakku sounds weird.” Jess frowned. “Rey, men are visual creatures, and women are works of art -”

“If I try something on will you shut up?” Rey interrupted quickly.

Both girls let out quiet whoops of joy as Rey turned to pursue the racks, grabbed a set that looked roughly her size and the least complicated out of everything in the store before she stalked to the changing rooms in the back.

“Hello!” chirped the sales girl stationed there. “Just the one set?” her smile widened at Rey’s nod of affirmation. “Follow me please. Now we do politely ask that you are gentle with the merchandise, and if you choose to buy the item you can bring it to the front with you or if you prefer to wear it out,” at this she gave a quick wink “just remove this tag and bring it to the front; if not, please leave it in the dressing rooms for sanitation. Here you go! If you need any help, please don’t hesitate to call!”

“Uhh, thanks?” Rey said, stepping into the small room and hanging the lingerie set on the only hook offered. “Okay. It’s just a form of clothes, you can do this. You wrap your arms every day, this can’t be harder than that.”

“Reyyyyy.” Rose called from outside of her door. “I’m right next to you! Let’s show each other how we look when we’re in everything.”

“Am I allowed to say ‘no’?”

“NOPE!” Jess laughed.

Rey wavered a few minutes before deciding to just suck it up and do it. Shedding her clothes was done with practiced ease and she stood there in her breast bindings and plain underwear before pinching at the clips that held the small scrap of fabric that was also somehow underwear. It fell easily into her palm and she shimmied out of her bottoms before working this fancy piece on.

The whole set was in black and green; the bottoms, once she worked out that the wide bands would rest on each hip and the tiny gem rested at the front went on easily enough. She suqurmed a bit at the srip that fell snugly between her cheeks. ‘A thong’ Rose had mentioned when she held it up for them to see, it had meant nothing to Rey then, but it certainly did now. Why would anyone wear something like this.

“How is it going Rey?” Jess asked.

“This all seems incredibly impractical.” she sighed even as she worked her way out of her breast bindings.

“Again, that isn’t the point. Just hurry up, we’re dying to see.”

The cups of the bra were green, topped with black lace, and two thin straps criss crossed over the very tops of her chest, a matching gem dangling from where they met and rested between her breasts. Her arms were behind her, wrestling with a pair of hooks she was unfamiliar with using when it happened.

“Oh kriff.” She swore as sound dropped out and there he was, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, reflected in the mirror behind her. A laugh borne from alcohol tumbled from her lips even as she spun around and backed up against the reflective surface, but it was too late, he had already seen her ass. He seemed frozen and was gaping at her like a fish. “Uhhh, I’d rather not do this now?” she asked, mentally pumping a fist in victory that she recalled her words from when the force connected them months ago while he had been shirtless. She was getting the raw end of this deal this time.

“What-” he rolled his jaw, eyes drifting over her figure. “What are you doing.”

“Rose and Jess claim this is shopping, but I’m almost convinced this is a wrestling match that I’m losing.” She hiccuped, “Oh wait, I think I’m back to winning.” She ran her fingers over the fasteners. “Yup, got it.”

“Are you - have you been drinking?”

“Oh yeah, but I’m honestly just hoping I can ramble long enough until this isn’t embarrassing.”

“Rey, who are you talking to in there?” Rose’s voice floated through the odd sound barrier of the bond as Rey ignored Kylo to reach for the last piece of her ensemble.

“I’m obviously in here chatting with The Supreme Leader. What is the point of this kriffing thing?” Rey huffed, wrapping the piece around her midsection actively ignoring Kylo’s panicked reaction. It was maybe trying to be a corset she decided.

“Yeah, okay Rey.” Rose laughter hit her ears. “You know, that’s not a terrible idea, just fight him in your underwear next time you see him, he won’t know what hit him.”

Rey chortled a laugh as she fastened the hooks in the front this time before spinning the piece around, fingers playing with the clasps at the end of straps that were meant for a pair of thigh high stockings she wasn’t wearing. Definitely not a corset, there was no support, she decided taking a deep breath, it was just there for looks, like the rest of it. She pressed her palms flat against the mirror and tipped her head up to look Kylo in the eye. “The shock and awe factor.” She called to Rose and Kylo frowned.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Rose.” Rey whispered.

“Who?”

“A friend.” She took a fortifying breath as he took a half step closer. “Well?” She asked, finding herself almost vibrating with nerves now that she had no way to occupy herself and attempt to ignore the hulking presence of her force bond mate. He took another step towards her and Rey found herself biting at the inside of her lower lip. His eyes roved over her body as a light blush built high on his cheeks, one gloved hand reaching out and pinching at the gem nestled between her breasts.

“Green suits you.” He finally said after what felt like an age.

“So I should get it?” She asked, tilting her head just slightly, his gaze drifting up to meet hers.

“It seems impractical?” He frowned, looking down her body again. Rey smothered a laugh that ended with a rush of breath as he took a final step, his body now pressed to hers. “I like it.” his voice low.

“It was a yes or no question, Ben.” Rey teased, shifting against him, her fingers landing on the rough fabric of his tunic.

“Yes.” His word was little more than a whisper against her mouth as his lips met hers. It was a gentle thing, sweet and soft as a sigh.

Rey’s eyes blinked open at a loud rapping to her changing room door. He was gone and she could almost believe it had been a dream if she were not able to feel a ripple of longing through their bond.

Rey wrenched the door open, jaw dropping in shock as she took in Rose and Jessika in their chosen outfits.

“Holy shit Rey! You look good enough to eat!” Jess grinned, stepping toward her in a deep red set similar to her own. There was another ripple through the bond and Rey flushed when she deciphered it as deep agreement with what Jess had said. “Please tell me you’re getting this.”

“Uhh, yup, yes. I am getting this. I am. Going to buy this and wear it - places.”

“Are you okay?” Rose frowned and Rey nodded.

“Great! I’m so good. I’m getting this. You both also look really good, please never tell me how Finn reacts. I’m going to get out of this and we are leaving.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I’ll meet you both at the front?” She asked, not waiting for an answer before retreating back to the safety of the changing room. After the extreme effort it took to get into all of this, the decision to not take it off was easy; Rey deftly plucked the tag from the left shoulder strap before getting dressed in record time. She haphazardly shoved her arm wraps and the underthings she had been wearing in her bag while withdrawing her credits to pay. Opening the door as quietly as she could, she listened to Jessika and Rose laughing in the next two stalls; satisfied that they were occupied she walked as quickly as she could without looking like she was running to the front.

“Could I also have a bag?” She asked the twi'lek working the register.

“Of course!” She chirped, withdrawing a dark purple bag from under the counter with a flourish “Would you like to place any items you had been wearing inside?”

“That’s allowed?”

“It’s your bag.” The twi’lek shrugged, beaming when Rey withdrew a small wad of fabric from her bag, before pulling some decorative paper from under the counter and putting it in the bag. “There you are! Thank you for stopping in, we hope to see you again soon.” She shot Rey a wink and Rey smiled wide to avoid rolling her eyes.

The girls all stopped to eat something on the way back to the spaceport, Rey drank 2 cups of caf and got another one to nurse while they walked, vaguely listening to Rose and Jess talk about the new slew of resistance recruits they had picked up last week and which one Jess should try to show one of her new pieces to and which one they should introduce Rey to.

“That is the absolute last thing I want.” Rey grumbled. “They go all wide-eyed when they see me. I was stationed on repairs two days ago and this one tech, I think his name was Matt, he just kept dropping everything every time I tried to help him. Didn’t even know what a spanner wrench was!”

“Ouch, seriously?” Rose asked. “How do you not know what a spanner wrench is. That’s basically his number one tool.” Rose laughed. “Imagine his face if you showed up in what you just bought.”

Rey laughed too before pulling up short. “You know, I don’t think I actually saw his face. He seemed really shy, mostly he was under the x-wing.”

“I’ve seen his face!” Jess chirped. “He’s really cute. Hair’s a mess, but his lips. You should go for it. Y’know, assuming he doesn’t pass out as soon as he sees you in all of that lace.”

“I’ll consider it, if he manages to ever speak more than one word at a time to me.” It was a lie, but conceding to flirt with some new tech was easier than trying to avoid their other ideas of getting her to hook up with other recruits. She wondered how many times she could tell Ben it wasn’t too late to change his mind before he blocked her out for once.

“That’s fair.” Rose said, picking up the pace as The Falcon came into view, ramp down and Chewie waiting, arms crossed as he watched the foot traffic through the port. He waved when he saw their trio and retreated into the ship.

“Ready?” Rey asked, dropping into the co-pilot's chair, smiling at the wookie as he growled out an affirmative answer, flicking all of the toggles needed to initiate the startup sequence.

They made it back to their ship base in no time at all, had just landed when The Falcon shuddered and a high pitched whine sounded. Chewbacca growled and Rey laughed. “Don’t worry about it.” She said, shutting the ship down. “I’ll take care of it, you go rest, you’ve earned it.” The wookie let out a sequence of happy chuffs before standing and exiting the cockpit. Rose appeared a moment later.

“You need any help?”

“No, I’ll be alright, if it needs something more in depth I’ll finish it up tomorrow. Go do whatever you’re going to do with Finn.” Rey stood, shooing Rose out.

“Well first I’m going to -”

“Tell me nothing.” Rey laughed, putting a hand over Rose’s mouth. “Take her out of here.” She gently pushed Rose towards Jessika, who gave an awkward salute before they both sauntered to the elevator bay. Rey watched them go and then sighed, regretting leaving on the sexy underthings now that she was going to be tinkering with The Falcon.

“Nothing for it now.” She grumbled after getting the diagnostics report, stalking to where the tools were kept. She stashed what she would immediately need on her belt. “Oi! Matt!” She called across the bay, spotting a mop of messy blonde hair. She heard a clang as something fell from the top of the x-wing he was working on. He twisted toward her. “Do you know where they stashed the tall ladder?” He answered with a negative noise and Rey scrunched up her nose before pulling over one of the standard ladders that were used to get into the x-wings. She scaled the ladder quickly before getting a solid hand hold on The Falcon itself. Scaling it was miles easier than all of her time spent scavenging star destroyers. She blinked down at the top of it, a quilt of scavenged together pieces in places. “Kriffing hell.” She muttered, kicking her way over to a smoking panel. For a moment she stared at the wires in disbelief. It was a miracle they made it back safe she mused while cutting them out.

“How’s it look?” Matt. It had to be, she stuck her head over the side to look down, and sure enough, there he was, hands shoved deep in his pockets and studying his shoes.

“Have you met the porgs yet?” Rey asked, swinging herself over and descending quickly.

“The what?” he practically jumped when she landed next to him.

“Porgs. Follow me.” She stalked into The Falcon and looked around. “Which one of you did this?” She dropped the wires in front of the closest nest and received a wide eyed chirrup back. “How did you even get up there?” another chirrup and she grunted. “I would take you all back to that island in a heartbeat or eat you, if Chewie didn’t like you all so much.” a small porglette head appeared under the wing of the one that she had been talking at and released a tiny squak. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” She pointed. “You can come in, I don’t really think they bite, although they do try to eat everything.”

She turned towards Matt with a smile that slipped from her face when she finally got a good look at his face for the first time. “A week.” She frowned, crossing her arms across her chest. “You’ve been here a week. How long were you hoping to keep this up? Does your mother know?” He was hovering in the doorway of the landing ramp, eyes fliting around to take everything in.

“It looks the same.” He ignored her questions.

“Ben,” Rey stepped closer to him, “What are you doing here?” She reached up and gently tugged the blonde wig from his head before gently removing the glasses to tuck them away in the pouch on her belt. “And why in a disguise this bad?”

“I was in a hurry.” She let him take the wig back, watched it fall to the floor before he took her hand in his. “There was a camera,” he muttered with a roll of his jaw, “in the elevator - in the throne room. Hux found it, there was a coup.”

“We haven’t heard anything about it.” She grumbled, but felt the Force pulse with the truth of his words. “What possessed you to come here, though?”

The corner of Ben’s lip twitched. “You. Ignorance doesn’t suit you, Rey.”

She hummed, pulling at the front of his uniform dragging him far enough into The Falcon so she could hit the button to close the ramp. “You know, Rose and Jess wanted me to flirt with Matt, but I told them he was too shy.” She frowned and pushed away from him. “What were you doing earlier? Do you seriously hang out in your room wearing your usual clothes in case the bond opens?”

“No, those are just my clothes.” He smirked now, leaning in towards her. “Speaking of…”

Rey reached up, tangling her fingers in the ends of his hair. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” She teased, teeth catching on his lower lips.

“Yes, I would.” This time when their lips met its desperate and hungry and everything Rey was hoping the kiss from earlier would build into. “Is this okay?” He rasped against her neck as his hands fumbled with her belt and sash. She huffed, smiling against his cheek, before removing her fingers from his hair to help him out. “Stars, Rey.” He gasped, pulling away as her shirt fell to floor to look at her. “I thought I was dreaming when I saw you earlier.” He murmured, tips of his fingers tracing the straps down to the gem.

“Ben, you already have me out of my top, you don’t need to try so hard with the flattery.” She rolled her eyes, unzipping his jacket.

“So when Matt gets leave, how opposed would you be if I bought several more of these, in every color?”

Rey tipped her head back and laughed. “Very. This was a nightmare to get into.”

“Then let me help you get out of it.”

“Shut up and kiss me again, because that was the worst line I’ve ever heard.” Ben’s laugh was more of a huff of exasperation, but he complied with her request with a bruising kiss, fingers slipping under the straps as his palms cupped her tits. “Ben.” she whined, pushing into his hands as she finally revealed his torso, raking her nails down over him before looping her fingers into the waistband of his pants. “Please.” She whispered, giving a gentle tug, rocking into him.

“Anything.” He groaned, pulling the cups of her bra down and exposing her perky tits to his view. His tongue had just met the tip of a nipple when there was a squak from the right. “But maybe,” He drawled, bringing his hands up to pinch each nipple in turn. “Not where those creepy things can watch.”

#lingeriewarsweek #reylo fic #reylo fanfic #reylo au??? idk #look matt just showed up out of no where and so did the porgs #sorry not sorry #jungle green #This was supposed to end in the dressing room #and Rey basically told me no #so #you all got this #this is also the closest I've ever come to writing smut #so i'm sorry for that #If I had more time #theres so much more to this story in my head that is just background nonsense that isn't needed #I'm going to stop this tag rambling now #reylo

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batarangtotheheart · 7 years

Text

Request (Yes): Request for batsis getting in a fight with the batfam and her going off the radar ( lots of angst please!) thank you!

A/N: Sorry it took so long. Also, i don't put "Read More" because on mobile sometimes it cuts off and i don't want that to disturb anyone. Apologies! I changed the request a teeny bit.

Warnings: A N G S T, Blood, Gunshots, Death, Accidents

Tagging: @femdamian @protegoparacosm @queen-of-all-the-fandoms

Message me if you would like to be tagged.

You were 12 when you were picked up by your (now) father, Bruce Wayne. Your parents had died in a fire and you were left alone, no family or friends in the cold city known as Gotham. You were being harassed by two men on the streets and just before he started to jump from the ledge he stood on, you beat the thugs unconscious. He quickly swooped down after you dropped the block of wood you used to knock the second unconscious. His slim, 6'2 body stood tall and dark against your petite child form.

He'd asked you where your parents were and you hesitantly told him they died. He told you about a friend he knew and drove you to the manor. Soon after, you discovered he was said friend.

You begged him to train you for two weeks before he gave up and you became the first Batgirl. You weren't the only kid in the house anymore. Now you had a full family. You were everyone's precious sister. Even Damian respected you.

You were currently on patrol with Damian, keeping an eye on the streets. It was a quiet night, until a young man got attacked by three shaggy looking men.

Just as you were finishing up, the second man with yellowed teeth and greasy brown hair lifted his gun and shot Damian. You stared in shock before tazing the man and he joined his friends in unconsciousness.

You covered at the red hole in Damian's chest, desperately trying to stop blood flow. You called for immediate help, hoping someone would respond.

You sat in Damian's hospital room, looking mournful as you looked down at your little brother. It was all your fault. You could've made sure they were actually unconscious, or even unarmed them. You were reckless.

You continued beating yourself up until your thoughts were interrupted by footsteps and the dragging of a chair. You didn't need to look up to know it was Dick.

It was silent for a few moments before he broke it, "It's your fault."

You didn't look up, only kept staring sadly down at Damian. "I know." "How could you be so careless?" Dick whispered, a mixture of grief and anger coating his voice.

Your heart was struck with a pang of sadness. “I know," You growled, a rough tone to your voice. "Dammit, Y/N," Dick rose his voice. "I KNOW," You shouted. "I KNOW I'M A FUCK UP, I know." Your voice got quieter toward the end.

"How? Why? WHY WEREN'T YOU PAYING ATTENTION?" His voice rose even higher.

"DO YOU THINK I WANTED THIS TO HAPPEN?" You yelled back. You knew it was just a matter of time before a nurse came and escorted you both out.

"I KNEW YOU SHOULD'VE STOPPED. YOU WERE GETTING RUSTY. THIS IS YOUR FAULT!" He pointed at Damian but didn't look. He was unable to.

"I'm sorry," You whispered. Dick's chest heaved from the volume he yelled from. "You shouldn't have done even become apart of this. Get out." His voice had a calmer, sharper tone and your eyes filled with tears even more. You looked at Damian once more before running out.

Your chest felt like it was on fire. You gasped and wheezed as you clutched at your chest.

You started your car, wanting to go home and pack. You couldn't face anyone after what happened.

You'd made it halfway home before a car swerved, avoiding a cat but crashing straight into you. Your car tumbled down a ditch and the other car drove away quickly. Your fuzzy had already been blurry from tears but now you were dizzy. You moved your arm slowly and touched your head. You looked at the red substance pouring from it and your arm fell, feeling too heavy to hold up. You reached for your phone, pushing emergency dial.

Back at the hospital, Dick felt guilty yet still angry. He hadn't meant to say those things, his suffering and grief spilled out of him. What if he'd been there? He didn't really blame you. It was Damian's fault just as much as yours, but it was easier to blame the person who walked away rather than the one who didn't. His phone rang beside him and he looked over, seeing your name flashing across the screen. He felt it best to ignore the call, unaware of how much he would regret it.

You let out a shaky breath when his voicemail rang through the air and dropped the phone. Your body felt cold and heavy. You tried to breathe but your ribs hurt too much. Your eyes filled with tears as you looked at the sky before shutting them one final time.

#batsis #batfamily #batfam #batfam x batsis #batfamily x reader #reader #x reader #angst #request #mine

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wherefancytakesme · 4 years

Video

My parents when I watch WOY

#wander over yonder #trending 27th #savewoy #woy #trending twenty-seventh #those who listen with headphones get an extra treat #oh boy here i go sh/it/posting again #tag change for tumbly radar

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dah-knee-cuh · 7 years

Text

An Animal

Summary: After years of staying off the radar Y/N’s first misstep has everyone watching for their next move. A Peter Parker Fic

Trigger warnings: blood, death, swearing, violence, gun shots

Word Count : 1674 Part 1 / ? of The Vigilante Series based on this request

Walking at night with the chilling breeze and only a thin sweatshirt would cause any person to be freezing, but not Y/N. Y/N instead had adrenaline coursing through their veins to warm them up. The buzz from helping the people more than the police could fulfills Y/N. Each time they draw their claws to a criminal, seeing them scurry away in fear satisfied them nearly as much as saving those in need. The excitement that comes with every time they bear their claws outweighs nearly all the fear that Y/N won’t be able to save anyone in time. For once in their life, Y/N knows that what they’re doing is right. For once they understand why they are the way that they are: driven, broken, and unpredictable.

The night seemed peaceful, one like any other, when Y/N heard a gruff voice with their innate hearing, “How about you drop the backpack and empty your pockets so no one gets hurt.”

Slipping their mask over their mouth and throwing their hood on, Y/N runs to find the aggressor clad in gray, facing an all too familiar sight. Ned Leeds.

The two males are on an empty sidewalk surrounded by closed stores, and luckily under the few working street lights. Advancing towards Ned, he has got him held at gunpoint with nowhere to safely run.

Y/N slyly cuts across the street, moving with the shadows, and approaches the man from behind. Extending their claws, holding one against the man’s neck and the other against his back, Y/N growls, “How about you drop the pistol and you won’t get hurt, much.”

Freezing, the man moves to lower his weapon allowing Ned to be set free. Y/N watches as he gets away, but only seeing him start to cut through an alley before-

Bang.

The mugger had turned his gun enough to get a direct hit through Y/N’s stomach.

The shot cracks in the air causing multiple car alarms to sound. Y/N arms slack, losing their advantage, when all they can hear is ringing. The man grabs them in a headlock with a gun directly in their line of sight. But Y/n didn’t see the weapon, all they see is red. The red of blood when Y/N reaches and slices his hand clean off. The crimson of his cheeks when he sees his own hand tumble, staining the cement of the sidewalk, and hearing the clatter of his only defense. The brick red spreading upon his once clean sweatshirt as Y/N repeatedly pierces his torso even after he stopped squirming from underneath them.

Then all Y/N could see is their beige carpet splattered with scarlet when they shot their parents when Y/N was only seven years old. The berry red blanket that contrasted in the white cell the men in suits put them in. The cherry of the alarms that blared when Y/N disobeyed.

But the red faded when Y/N became aware of the pool of blood soaking through their pants. The ringing quieted once Y/N saw Ned’s mouth moving, but no sound was coming out.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N says trying to catch their breath, “can you repeat that? I completely missed it.

“I said are you okay? You got shot if you didn’t notice,” Ned remarks slowly taking steps towards Y/N.

“Oh,” they say monotonously, “I guess I did. It’s okay, I heal fast.”

As Ned comes under the glow of the yellow streetlight, the phone pointed directly at Y/N comes to view, “Ned are you really fucking recording this?” Y/N says bewildered, emotion finally seeping through their words.

“You know my name?” He asks still not putting his phone down, “Holy shit! You know my name!”

Cautiously coming towards him and retracting their claws, Y/N requests, “I do, now can you stop recording?”

“This is a livestream, I’m not recording it. Do you still want me to end it?”

“Of course you have to be live streaming,” they mumble, “yes end the fucking video.”

“This is like the second greatest thing to ever happen to me,” he admits after turning off his phone and putting it away. His eyes focused on you and never once straying to the dead body.

“Fuck, I can’t go home like this,” Y/N mutters, “Ned, can we stop by yours and can I get a change of clothes?” Gesturing to the stained outfit.

“You’re serious? No offense but, I’m not going to let in some strange murderer into my house. Even if they did save my life,” Ned explains, “my parents would kill me.”

“Ned you know me, how do you think I know your name?” Taking off the hoodie and face mask, “It’s me, Y/N.”

“Oh shit, you’re a superhero too?”

“What do you mean too? Who else would be one?”

“No, pfft – uh – I mean like to who? The little guys or something? Or are you like a Robin Hood figure?”

Sensing that he’s lying, or at least not telling the full truth, Y/N refrains from going full interrogation mode, “Yeah, sure. I guess.”

“Cool! How come I haven’t seen anything about you online? You’d think someone who acts like an animal would get more press coverage,” he says as they walk down to his apartment building.

“Don’t call me that,” Y/N growls, “I’m not an animal.”

“Oh-ho-kay,” he stretches out.

The rest of the walk is done in silence. Ned’s too scared to say anything that might set Y/N off, while Y/N tries to shake off the feeling that something isn’t right.

As they reach the building and while they wait for the elevator to come down Ned decides to break the silence, “What are we going to do about the dead body?”

“Shit! I forgot about that,” Y/N exclaims and turns back to him wide-eyed, “You have to go back and call the police.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine, it’s late anyways and my foster parents won’t be awake so they won’t notice the blood anyways. If the cops ask why it took so long for you to call, say you were in shock or something,” Y/N explains rushing out of the building, “You’ll be fine and I’ll just see you at school okay?”

“Yeah okay?” Ned says confused turning back to look at them, only to see Y/N sprinting away faster than humanly possible.

Y/N couldn’t sleep that night, hell they couldn’t even sit still for more than two minutes. They’re more jittery than normal, not just because of the cups of caffeine they consumed to get through the day, since Ned’s livestream started to go viral. After years of staying off of everyone’s radar, blew up in Y/N’s face all because they let their emotions get the best of them. After years of trying to prove their powers didn’t define them, dissipated before their very eyes.

Throughout the day Y/N saw screenshot from the video too many times to count. School became unbearable since ‘the masked vigilante’ made an appearance.

“Hey guys,” Y/N says taking their seat at the lunch table.

“Hey Y/N,” Peter greets, “have you heard about the stabbing on Ingram street? What kind of monster goes off like that?”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure it was an act of self-defense. He did shoot them,” Y/N defends while picking at their lunch.

“I think they’re pretty dope,” MJ inputs, “they did what they felt they had to do. We can’t forget that whoever they are did save Ned’s life.”

“Thank you MJ,” Y/N says looking up from their lunch.

“All I’m saying is that a man died that night because of them. If Spider-Man was there, no one would’ve gotten hurt.”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t was he?” Y/N counters.

“Guys, come on. I think you both should just calm down and settle at the fact that both of them are great heroes okay?” Ned declares.

“Fine,” Peter says, “but if you’re calling that animal a hero then I guess Spider-Man is a villain.”

As soon as Peter called Y/N’s alter ego an animal they lost it. So without a word, Y/N just up and stormed out of the cafeteria.

Seeing the pointed look on Ned’s face, Peter asks, “Should I go after them?”

“Man, how can you not see it? Y/N-,” Ned catches himself, “Never mind, I got this.”

So Ned left the group leaving it to be just Peter and MJ.

“Hey what was that for?” Peter yelps after MJ chucks one of her baby carrots at Peter.

Scoffing, she responds, “Ned’s right you know,” before she too left Peter alone.

“I didn’t even do anything wrong!” He calls after her.

“Aye, Penis Parker!” Flash greets taking Y/N’s seat across from Peter.

Groaning he ignores Flash and eats his lunch in silence trying to figure out what he said that made Y/N so mad.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Ned yells catching them as they exit the building.

“What is it,” they say stopping, “I’m fine, I just want to go home my stomach still hurts from last night. I did get shot.”

“Are you sure that it’s not because the guy you like called you the a-word?” Ned inquires placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Y/N shakes Ned’s hand off, “I’m not even into Peter.”

“Maybe you’re right, but all I know is that you got more bothered that Peter said the a-word.”

“Wh-,”

“And how you smile extra big each time you hug Peter,” Ned interrupts.

Walking to the parking lot and hiding behind a car Y/N pulls out their suit. Well a hoodie and a mask, “I don’t want to talk about it Ned. Peter is not my biggest problem right now. Let’s just drop it for now okay?”

“Fine, but I’m not going to let it go until you admit your feelings,” Ned says.

“Deal,” they agree. “I’m just gonna bus over to Brooklyn or something where maybe somebody actually needs me.”

Seeing Ned nod, Y/N slips their mask into their pocket and grab their backpack before they head off into the streets.

A/N I hope you guys like this! This is gonna be my first multi-part series so bear with me a little haha, but I’m super excited to start this. The next couple parts will be more Peter heavy I just gotta lay the groundwork. I hope this didn’t seem too rushed, let me know what you guys think.

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