#love you James Cheek sorry for being so unhinged

[biboomerangboi]

What alternate reality am in holy shit.

[love4buckybarnes]

PROMISES

Summary: Bucky and Y/N we’re married and love. But differences had set them apart. A promise, one of many they had made, was broken, threatening the love between them.

Bucky Barnes x Reader. Warnings: car accident, minor injuries, mention of pregnancy complications, and angst. Happy fluff ending.

A/N: Let me know what you think of this one. The title is a bit questionable so if you have one that you’d like to share, I’ll credit you :).

They were both madly in love. When they first saw each other, the world stood still. Cheesy, but it was true. At least that’s what they would tell everybody of how they met. Their romance story is one you would read from a book or see in a movie. Bucky knew Y/N was the one, so he got on one knee and asked her to marry him. The day he proposed and when they made their vows and promises, were the most memorable moments together. Ones they could never forget.

Time went by and what appeared like the perfect happy couple turned upside down. Around family and friends, they put on a fake persona. Behind closed doors, the endless fighting and tension caused a rift between them. It started when they were trying for a family. Sometimes things aren’t just handed out freely to everyone. Y/N experienced fertility issues. It was stressful for the both of them. Most fights were over something small which would blow up out of proportion. Some nights they made up, and some nights, one would end up on the couch. Sometimes they wondered if they should give up.

Tonight was supposed to be important. Y/N had all of it planned out for the special occasion. She made reservations at their favorite restaurant. Bucky promised he would be there. Despite everything, she still loved him all the same. She wondered if he still loved her .

She sat there alone. The stares and looks of the people around her was unsettling and made her embarrassed. Y/N had been all dressed up and makeup done. Eventually, she had enough of waiting and stormed out.

The door to their apartment swung open. Bucky has been sitting at the table with his face scrunched up in concentration. He couldn’t even bother to look up.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Y/N spat out each name, crossing her arms. She was furious.

Bucky glanced up. “Hi,” he said quickly, before returning his attention to the computer in front of him.

This made her tick even more. She marched over to where he sat and slammed the laptop shut.

“Hey! What the fuck?!” Bucky exclaimed, standing up. The chair fell backwards to the floor with a loud bang. “Why would you do that? I didn’t save what I was working on.”

“I don’t care,” she snapped. “Do you remember where you were supposed to be tonight?”

Bucky thought for a minute. After remembering and realized his mistake, he cursed. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

She stepped closer to his face. “You promised you were going to be there.”

“Sam needed me to work on this mission. It’s important. I got wrapped up in it.”

“So this was more important than what we had planned?”

“No, I did not say that. Now you’re just putting words in my mouth,” he fought back.

“Gosh, why can’t you just try to put in a little more effort?” She hadn’t noticed the tears rolling down her face.

“Me try? How about you?” he scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “You have everything to do with this chaos of whatever this is just as much as I do. In fact, it’s all you. It’s all because of you!”

Y/N felt like someone cut into her chest with a blade and ripped her heart out. She always thought it was her fault. And now he blamed her, too. This has been the last straw. “Oh wow, well, thanks for the clarification I needed to know.”

“Where are you going?” he asked in a frantic tone when she headed towards the door.

She paused in her tracks to answer him. “I need to go. I can’t be here. Especially knowing what you really think of me.”

Bucky winced at her words and flinched at the loud thud she made when she left. The palm of his hand brushed over his face. He regretted what he said. He never blamed her. Whether she knew it or not, his love for her has been the same since they have met.

Thunder rumbled, and lightning dashed across the dreary night sky. Y/N stepped out into the pouring rain. She reached the car parked across the street. Before she could get in, Bucky stepped in front of her, blocking her from going any further. He placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Please don’t go,” Bucky begged. “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I love you.”

Y/N avoided his eyes and yanked away from his grasp. She was so angry, she didn’t know what to believe anymore. “Yeah well, you have a funny way of showing it.” She got in, locking the door. He knocked on the window. Ignoring him, she drove off. Her mind swirled and her eyes hazy with tears. She wasn’t sure when she would come back, or if she would return at all.

Bucky saw it happen right in front of him. He watched her drive off. Turning around to go inside to get out of the rain, he heard the tires from afar screech against the concrete. He looked back just in time to see the vehicle swerving. The slippery road caused the car to skid across the road. It hit a curb, tumbled over and rolled a few feet away.

He could hear his heart pound wildly in his ears, stomach turned in knots. He felt as if his airway were being constricted. Bucky didn’t feel his legs carry him over there, not caring he was soaking wet. All he cared about was her.

Darkness spotted her vision. A blurry figure appeared in front of her. Even through fogged vision, she recognized who it was.

“Baby?” Bucky croaked out, his voice soft, trying to keep himself calm. Inside, he was all but calm. He had to keep the sheer panic under control so he could help her. “Stay with me, okay? I’m going to pull you out.”

“Bucky?” she hissed out in pain.

“I’m here, Doll,” he said reassuringly.

Her eyes fluttered. A loud snap in her ear stirred her back to consciousness.

“Don’t close your eyes, love,” he pleaded. “Just focus on me, okay? Keep them on me.” He watched her fight herself from passing out. His hand reached in to unbuckle the seatbelt that held her to the seat. With ease, he unhinged the door, that was already hanging off the rest of the way. He carefully maneuvered Y/N from the car and set her down on the ground. He trembled as he dialed 911.

When he looked back down, she was unconscious. Blood seeped from the gash on her forehead. He slapped gently on her cheeks to get her to wake up, but she was out cold. Bucky felt like his whole world was shutting down. He couldn’t contain the sobs escaping his throat. He rarely cried. He’s only ever shed tears a couple of times in front of her. Once when they first said I love you and when they said their vows.

Guilt devoured his entire being. The whole time they’ve been together since being married, had been spent with fighting instead of loving each other. All he ever truly wanted was for the both of them to be happy. But he let the blaze consume them.

Hearing sirens wailing in the distance, relief released from Bucky. Flashes of bright blue lights got closer, and soon the EMTs were there to help. They placed a brace to keep her head and neck supported in case there was an injury before putting her on the stretcher. For Bucky, it was all in slow motion. He blocked out the EMT asking him questions, jumping into the back of the ambulance.

At the hospital, he tried following her into the emergency room, but wasn’t allowed to. He paced around outside. His foot tapped on the tile uncontrollably, the nerves wracking his mind. He held his head between his knees to keep himself from having a panic attack.

Couple of hours later, the nurse stepped out to talk to him. “James?” she called out.

He jumped up hearing his name. His jaw clenched as he waited to hear what she had to say.

“Your wife is going to be fine. She has a concussion, a few stitches, and a fracture in her collarbone ,” she started to say. He let out the deep breath he has been holding in. “The baby is also fine.”

Bucky whipped his head up, confused. “The what?!”

“Oh, maybe you didn’t know, but she’s pregnant,” the nurse clarified. “Luckily, the baby doesn’t have a scratch.”

Now he understood. Why it was so important to be there at the restaurant, and why she was so upset about it. The guilt he felt engulfed him more. He needed to figure out how to make it up to her. Bucky swore to himself he would never disappoint her again and to keep all the promises he makes.

Annoying constant beep sounds lulled Y/N out of her sleep. Vivid white blinded her vision as she came to. She groaned at the pounding pain in her head. Her fingers twitched, gripping the sheets. Eyes opened to the ivory room. Her face scrunched up, trying to remember what happened and where she was.

A snore next to her got her attention. Bucky slept in a chair beside her hospital bed, waiting for her to wake up.

“Bucky,” she rasped out, her throat scratchy.

Bucky stirred. When he realized she was conscious, he sprung awake. He called for the nurse to check her over, making sure everything was fine. When she left, he sat back down, taking one of Y/N’s hands in one of his, pressing it to his lips.

“Oh, baby,” he said, ever so softly. He brushed the strands from her face and tucked it behind her ears. “Oh, thank god you’re awake.” Tears brimmed, and he didn’t care, letting them fall. His lips curved into a smile that didn’t fully reach his eyes. He gently left kisses on her cheeks. Calloused thumb brushed the delicate skin.

“What happened?” Y/N asked.

“You got in an accident,” he explained. “Just a concussion, broken collarbone, and a few scratches. And you might be achy from the whiplash.”

Y/N shot up out of bed in dismay, only to be pinned back down.

“Hey, no, you need to stay in bed and rest,” Bucky ordered her, firmly keeping her from moving.

“But the bab-,” she began, but Bucky cut her off.

“I know,” he said sadly, interrupting her. “I know you’re pregnant. The baby is fine, love.”

Y/N felt relieved. “How did you find out?”

The small smile on his face dropped. “When they x-rayed you to check for injuries, they found out you were pregnant.” His lip trembled as he cried harder. “I’m so sorry. That’s what you wanted to tell me. That’s why you wanted me to be there. I should have kept my promise and showed up. If I had, you wouldn’t be here.”

Y/N knew he was being true to his word. She reached up to wipe the tears from under his eyes. He sighed, leaning in to her touch he missed. “I’m sorry too. I was so excited to tell you. Things haven’t been easy for either of us. I couldn’t wait to tell you.”

He shook his head, beating himself. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s not your fault. None of it is. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. From now on, no more fighting. I just want to be us again.”

“‘I agree, Bucky,” she agreed. “I’m tired of fighting too. You still love me right?”

“Yes of course I still love you,” he said, in disbelief. “I love you so much. I could never stop loving you. And when you left, I was so ashamed. Then I witnessed the wreck. I thought I was going to lose you for good. And now I’m going to be a father. You’re going to be a mother.”

Y/N started to cry too. He kissed away the tears leaking down her face. “We’re going to be what we have always wanted. A family. You won’t lose me. I love you.” She grew weak with exhaustion.

“Sleep, darling,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Before he could step aside, she took his hand to stop him. “Lay with me?” she begged.

He smiled, with the usual twinkle in his eyes that she adored. “Of course.”

She scooted over, making room for him. Bucky laid down next to her. Not wanting to hurt her anymore, he cautiously enveloped her in his arms. For once in forever, they both felt harmony. All the worries and differences lost in the past. They knew the rift between them was no longer. What seemed like the perfect couple hidden under the fire, still was. And they both knew their love for each other was now stronger than ever.

[padfootastic]

So I'm going to be greedy and try for two in the WIP game. Feel free to only answer one if that's against the rules :P

Number 11 prongsfoot (because yay!!! there is never enough of those two imo) and Number 5 Walburga (because I am super intrigued and coincidently I also have a WIP titled that haha)

i’m so sorry for taking so long i blinked and 1567 days passed by; this is the first time i’ve had wi-fi on my ipad in like a week 😭😭

so, prongsfoot is my ~much awaited (lol) longfic that i’ve been thinking about for months (let’s ignore the fact i only have a couple thousand words written hehe) it’s v simple and v cliche but that’s how i like it. single dad james who’s a personal trainer + model sirius who’s tired of his meaningless life who runs away and visits his aunt cassiopeia which is, coincidentally, where james lives. they meet, sirius falls in love with both james and harry, and they get together. very uncomplicated & tropey as fuck bc that’s how i like it. here’s a snippet of that one 🙈

“Give me more credit than that, won’t you? I’ve known you for years now and never have I seen you as fed up with life than in the past few weeks,” Lily said, “Which is really saying something when you consider I was there for your little experimental hair phase back in ‘02.”

Sirius winced. “Jeez, okay, I get it, no need to pull out the big guns. No one wants to remember that disastrous period in life.”

“By which, of course, you mean you don’t want to remember it. It brings me great joy to talk about it time and again—“

“That’s because you’re a little gremlin.“

“—as a reminder of how even the greatest amongst us weren’t always this way.”

Sirius heaved a great sigh and once again contemplated his decision to sit beside the little red headed demon colouring her sun purple and river orange in Year 4.

“Anyway. As I was saying,” Lily said with a pointed cough, “I’ve been expecting this for a while now, so let’s skip the mushy stuff - please and thank you, love - and move right on to what you had in mind if not this.”

Aaaaaaand just as quickly, he was reminded it was because he himself preferred braiding his hair with flowers to keeping it short, and wearing glitter on his cheeks, even as far back as when he was eight years old.

He quickly leaned forward to press a light kiss on her cheek before replying, “How’d you know I have something planned? This could be my chance to go off-the-rails, y’know.”

“Sirius, you know I love you, but your definition of ‘letting loose’ is drinking aged whiskey in a solo cup—“

“Because it’s truly absurd.”

“—and I don’t think you could even take a shit without writing it down in your planner, so forgive me if I don’t entirely believe your, er—what did you say?—‘Going-off-the-rails’ suggestion,” she ended with a snort.

Ah, the mortifying ordeal of being known. Sirius sometimes really wished Lily wasn’t as perceptive as she was, but then it wouldn’t be her if that were the case, would it?

“Fine,” he sneered, “I was thinking of visiting Great-aunt Cassie down South.”

Lily blinked.

“Great-aunt Cassie, as in Cassiopeia Black, as in the slightly-unhinged-spinster-recluse who lives with her pet cheetah and teaches little girls how to wield daggers in her spare time—that Great-aunt Cassie?”

Walburga is,,,interesting. it’s a oneshot (?) i started way back in 2017 and i’ve tried really hard to salvage a snippet from the cringe fest but i just can’t 😭 i like the basic premise which is basically this: sirius, who’s very, very good at offensive & grey/dark magic because his family thighs it to him from birth, and he tries to reconcile himself, who he believes himself to be, who he wants to be with who he was moulded into (regardless of whether it was successful or not). it starts off with the marauders practicing diffindo and sirius having a particularly powerful spell, and goes on to show how walburga made him use it. it’s a bit…dark, that scene, and a little cartoonishly evil (which is why it makes me cringe now) but yeah, that’s basically it.

i’m now super curious about your walburga fic 👀 can i reverse ask for a brief/snippet myself? is that allowed?

[megthemewlingquim]

  ❛   i want you. and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twist in my dark soul.   ❜   Bucky gets jealous of someone (Sam maybe) but he doesn't think he deserves the reader bc of his past? Followed by some very sweet smut?

Sugar, Sweetheart, Angel

Summary: Bucky can't help himself when it comes to you — especially when Sam's away with a girl.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: sweet... but not too explicit smut, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, corny poetry about jealousy, Bucky being shy but very, very loving

A/N: Hi, loves! Happy Kinktober. This is my DAY ONE entry. I promise, I will get into more explicit smut as the month goes on.

“Nah, go on, man. Have your fun.”

Mistake Number One.

He feels the regret immediately after the words slip out of his mouth, and it only worsens when he sees Sam go off with a girl — a dame — beside him. She’s beautiful, with chocolate skin and velvet eyes and long, braided hair.

But, in his lonesome state, he turns and sees you.

Dancing to the unrecognizable tune that’s pulsing through everyone at the club, lit up by neon purple, green and blue lights and a smile that literally glows in the dark.

Mistake Number Two. 

Because his eyes don’t leave your figure and his mouth doesn’t open and — of course — his pants have gotten much, much tighter. 

Hope rises within him, but it quickly fades.

You’ve been on Bucky’s mind for ages.

You started out as Sam’s friend, his partner in superhero work. No, you couldn’t fly or move things with your mind or control lightning and thunder, but you could hack into computers and software, and you could actually use a knife well. You met both Sam and Bucky after the war for the world, after he and Sam were dusted and you lost your boyfriend for five years. And of course, with no contact for that long, even if it’s not intentional, a relationship can crack and dissolve.

So you were a hardened, tough wreck, but one that was starting to pick up pieces and put yourself back together. You were starting to learn to love again, and to fight for what you loved and who you loved... which, when you started working with Sam, was only your family.

Bucky was completely awestruck when he saw you for the first time. He was reminded of all of the pretty dames from the 40′s, the ones with shorter hair and cherry red lipstick. You brought him back to his sergeant years....

And when you make eye contact with him for one, split second moment, even before his sergeant years.

And there he is.

The boy who grew up with very overprotective parents. The boy who was scared of growing up, the boy who was so shy around the fifth grade girls. And the sixth grade girls. And so on.

Bucky is transported back to those years, and all he can do is look at you.

You’re free, it seems. You’re liberated, you’re unhinged, as you dance and sway to the tune... which now seems to be a slower, more psychedelic song. (Sam taught him that word. Enter Pink Floyd.) Your arms lift and you look up, absolutely content and so in love with the music and the lights and...

Well, not with him. That’s for sure.

He sighs, going over to sit at a vacant table. It smells of beer, the aftermath of an arm wrestle from whoever sat there last. Lifting a hand up to scratch his stubble, he finally tears his eyes away from you; he does not want to seem creepy.

Mistake Number Three.

Because he does not see you come up to him, sit down on an empty chair beside him.

“See something you like, James?”

He shudders at the use of the name. Not that it’s a bad shudder — it’s just... it sounds lovely coming from your lips.

You must take it as a bad sign, because you look down at your shoes. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Sorry, Buck.”

His voice lifts a little. “No, sweetheart, it’s okay.” The term of endearment goes unnoticed by you. He’s used it with you so often, and even the first time you were numb to it. It fell on deaf ears, as it does now. “It’s okay. You can call me that... if you want to.”

He pauses. “I... I did see something I liked, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah?” Now it’s your voice that lifts. “And what was that?”

Either you’re really, really ignorant, or you’re doing it to be a tease and to piss him off. Bucky can’t tell.

“You.”

He says it bluntly. No hiding, no blushing, no nothing. Because he knows that you won’t think anything of it.

Not that you don’t like him back. You absolutely do. It’s just that you’ve been so hardened, so toughened, so numb to the fact that anyone might love you back, and Bucky knows it.

“Hm,” you mumble, “thank you.” It’s as sincere as you can make it sound, which isn’t very.

There’s an uncomfortable pause, one in which you’re both thinking the same thing.

“I want you,” he says, “and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twist in my dark soul.”

Every word from Bucky falls from his lips like weights. They drop, then they sit where they land. One lands on your shoe, the others land on the floor. He’s keeping eye contact with you, his gaze intense and... regretful? Introspective? Sincere? Sad?

You blink. And then you laugh.

Not at him, he quickly realizes.

“That’s some Billie Eilish type shit,” you giggle, “but that’s okay. I like her music... but hearing you say it is somehow much more corny.” You break off into more snickers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You do mean the apology.

He’s a little hurt, but he expected it. He accepts the apology wordlessly.

“I’m serious,” he says, and then you shut the hell up. “Completely serious.” He lifts his hand up and points his index finger at you. “You’re the one I want. Not Sam’s dame, not a girl I kissed in a hallway after knowing her for a month seventy years ago and never saw again.”

It’s a little insult to Steve, you remember. But then you remember what Steve actually did, and how he did it, and exactly who he left behind.

So this means something.

“I like you. I want you. And I love you, whether you know it or not.” He stops, leans in close so his lips are less than a centimeter from your ear, whispers the next part: “Whether you’ll accept it or not.”

His breath is hot on your neck, and he takes a warm hand in yours. It’s his flesh hand. Your heart is racing, and you note that Bucky can probably hear it. 

“Buck -” you stammer, “I — I don’t —”

“You don’t have to say yes, sugar,” he says nonchalantly, but with that sincere tone still lingering. “But you have to realize that some people actually do like you. Want you. Love you.”

He pulls back, his face so close to yours it’s almost claustrophobic for you. The tension in the room is overwhelming, and the air is stuffy and hot and you don’t know how to react to any of this.

“I do,” he continues, “even if that son of a bitch didn’t. You’d think that after five years of not seeing you, he’d come rushing back with flowers and chocolates and a weddin’ ring. You’d think that distance would make a relationship stronger, if it’s the right one.”

“He was dead,” you croak.

“So you thought. And what did he do? He left...Tell ya what, sweetheart,” he says, his tone lightening once again. “Why don’t you let me show you how I feel instead of telling you?”

His hand travels up your thigh and stays there.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” he whispers, “and you don’t know how long it’s taken me to actually say it. Because now you’re listening. Now you’re learning. Now, hopefully, you’ll begin to accept it.” He looks down, down at your lips, then back up to your eyes.

Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, he looks nervous. He stammers out the beginnings of words, never meeting your eyes. "Er — I don't — I don't deserve you. I really don't. You're an absolute angel compared to me. I've — I've killed people, I've done things that you'd recoil at.... I just hope that you come to realize that I love you. I adore you. And if something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."

It takes a moment for you to collect your thoughts.

You shove them all aside and kiss him.

It’s gentle, and it’s warm and welcoming and it’s Bucky. He lightly takes a hold of your cheek and pulls you further in. The hand that was once on your thigh is now in your hair, at the very back of your head. His lips are soft, which is strange, because you know he used to bite and pick at them, especially when he was nervous... which was often.

You feel like you’re going to topple off of your chair, but if that happens, you won’t mind, because you have Bucky there to catch you.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he says after pulling back, nudging his head at the exit. “My place.”

All you can do is nod your head.

He cooks you dinner, the gentleman. It’s unexpected... you thought you’d just be a fling for tonight.

It’s chicken caprese - seasoned chicken breast with basil, mozzarella cheese, tomatoes and balsamic vinegar. A classic Italian dish, and a classic date night dish.

If you want to call this a date.

After you’re both done, he does the dishes. You both agree to brush your teeth and rinse with mouthwash.

He’s on you directly afterward, latching his lips onto yours in a frenzy. You ground yourself by gripping onto the bathroom counter with white knuckles. He towers over you now, leaning over you and surrounding you with his seemingly much larger form. You’re a small thing.

“Bed — ” he gasps. “Bed, now, please.”

He picks you up, hands on your ass, and you have no choice to wrap your legs around him and hold on. Somehow, you make your way into a bedroom.

He lays you down as if you could break if handled less carefully, and lays down beside you for a minute, doing nothing but taking in the sight of you all breathless and blushing.

He's never seen you blush before. It's a very pretty sight.

"You know," he says, "I haven't done this in forever: properly made love to a woman. But I want to do it right. I want to make you feel loved, sweetheart."

Loved. Not "good". Loved.

"Bucky, there's really no need." There you go again, denying it. It infuriates him and saddens him, but he only sighs.

"How bout this. How bout you... for an hour or so.. just forget about that sonofabitch that left you. Forget about the denial he gave you. And, just for an hour or two, maybe just try to accept the absolute fact that I want to treat you better than he did. Just because he left doesn't mean that I will."

You don't say anything.

"Do you trust me?" he asks rhetorically. "See, you really shouldn't, but you do. I often think, 'How the hell could anyone trust me?' but I accept that fact because you just do.

"That's how I feel with you. You don't think that people should be able to love you, but they do. I do. And I want to show you that.”

“You did make me dinner,” you say with a light smile, your stone exterior cracking a little.

He nods. “That’s one of the million things I’d do for you.” There’s a split second pause that does not prepare you for what he says next. 

“I’d marry you,” he says. Only then does he kiss you, when you’re too stunned to move. You kiss him back, your grip on him heavy this time. He notices, and he smiles.

Clothes are quickly discarded and hot, fast breaths are all you hear for a while. Bucky latches his lips onto your own lips, your neck, your jaw, wherever they can reach, and his hands do the same. 

But when you’re both naked, taking in the sight of each other, your breathing slows, and you both stop, let time pass before anything continues. He breathes out a question, one of consent, and you say yes.

Soft whispers and touches are what your senses take in. Bucky takes note of your every gasp, every whimper and every moan that you make, and remembers what to do to make you do it again.

For example, you like your left breast fondled more than your right. Your neck is a sensitive spot, especially right below your right earlobe. You really like it when he kisses your palms and your inner wrists. You do not like the idea of cunnilingus, unfortunately for Bucky, though you’ve never actually done it.

“Next time maybe we could try it,” he says.  Next time.

You notice, in a random moment, that he does everything with his flesh hand.

His fingers find your intimate parts, and explore there slowly, spreading your wetness all around and rubbing at your clit in slow circles. You don’t moan until the very end, where you’re almost ready to come. His eyes never leave yours, even when yours leave his in a rush of sudden bliss and a shuddered breath.

“Look at me,” he whispers. “I want to see you. I want to see you come.”

You gasp at that, throwing your head forward and looking at him with a look that can only be described as desperation.

“Come for me,” is all he says, a low whisper laced with lust. You clench around his fingers as you come, whining and gasping, and he touches your forehead with his as you’re lost in that wonderful feeling of ecstasy. He mumbles something under his breath, and your brain registers it a millisecond later:

“’Atta girl.”

At that, another rush of pleasure jolts through you and you shudder and twitch, your body becoming oversensitive. 

He doesn’t let you go down on him. Today, he says, is all about you, and you deserve all the loving he can give you today.

Which means he buries himself inside of you quite quickly, holding onto you with an iron grip. You’re on top of him, looking down at his sweaty, awestruck smile.

This is Bucky’s way of making love with you today: very deep, passionate strokes set to a faster rhythm than you thought he would go, but you don’t mind. In fact, you’re moaning almost as soon as you feel the first thrust, and your hair hangs a little in his face as you let your head fall closer to his. He wraps his arms around your torso, bringing you closer to him. So, his thrusts are more shallow but you can get all close with him.

You moan and sob, the wonderful feeling of warmth in your gut never leaving once but only growing. Bucky himself grunts as he thrusts, emitting a breathy chuckle once in a while when he notices how hard you’re gripping onto him.

There are no words here, only sounds and gestures. Enough words have been said.

Once you’re both satisfied and his seed starts to dry on your breasts, all you do is look at each other.

Two souls, two people, two broken hearts that have begun to mend.

[rxgerthatt]

we’re both monsters, and that’s okay

Summary - Bucky is a broken man, and you’re a broken woman. What happens when worlds collide?

Warnings - SMUT/violence/adult themes 

A/N – hi sooooo, I’m working on something big for Steve but I wanted to get something out because I’m having the dreaded writers block and it’s annoying. I really have no idea where this came from, and honestly I’m not sure it makes sense but fuck it, it’s late – if you like it lemme know darlings.

Bucky Barnes is smitten the moment he lays eyes on you.

The firecracker of a dame, with a whip for a tongue and the strength of ten super soldiers. Slight exaggeration, but the point is – you’re strong as fuck.

Seriously, he watched you pull off a man’s arm with your bare hands in Moscow – creamed his pants at the sight. Gore splattered across your face in garish red, coated your hands and you sucked your fucking index finger into your mouth – released it with a pop.

You’re really fucking morbid.

“hmm – don’t get blood like this in the states.” You smirk.

You’re also insane.

Bucky stutters, watches the way your hips sway as you slink away from him and he thinks about those sinful legs wrapped around his –

“Hurry up Barnes – Kimmel’s on at ten.”

Damn – you’ll be the death of him.

He travels to Venice with you – romantic right?

Two enhanced humans running from their problems, trying to find the pieces that were taken – trying to remember the pieces that weren’t. It’s like some tragic love story, spun together and bound by flames and cindered rope.

You remind him of fire – uncontrollable, breathtaking. Don’t get too close or you’ll burn because you’re untameable, one of those new world modern chicks who hate commitment and snort white powder from vials on the weekend.

You’re more dangerous though.

Venice is other worldly. You and Bucky sit on a bridge and watch the sun descend over brightly coloured buildings. It burns tangerine orange and this violent blood red, soft clouds blushing pink with the last of the suns attention. Cornflower blue sky pulled apart from the sea revealing a fleshy wound.

Gondola’s pass beneath your feet, charred and midnight black as they slosh through the water – couples kiss and laugh and Bucky wonders what it’s like to be so completely in love you’re blinded.

“Do you ever wish you died? Y’know, when you fell off the train?” you ask him, and it’s totally out of the blue because you’re sucking on salted caramel gelato over sea foam green water and that question is entirely inappropriate.

“No,” he answers with a smug grin. “Wouldn’t get to be sittin’ here with you if I did.”

Oh it’s smooth, and he feels kind of proud. That is, until you roll your eyes and chuckle. “You trying to get laid?”

Bucky chokes on a chocolate chip, it’s wedged in his throat like a stone and your bluntness turns him fifty shades of vermillion. God, he needs to stop hanging around Steve so much – he’s lost his touch.

“It’s okay if you are you know,” you look straight ahead. “I’ll suck your dick if you want, I don’t mind.”

“Jesus Christ doll, you’re something else.” Bucky laughs – a deep belly laugh, and for the first time in a while he feels normal.

You’re the only one that makes him feel normal.

And that’s the weirdest part of the whole damn thing.

***

Bucky sees it for the first time in Naples.

Word of an underground trafficking ring associated with Hydra shook loose and Steve wanted you both to check it out – drugs, weapons – the works.

It’s not end-of-the-world type shit, but the dude that runs it is bad news.

Giovanni De Luca, the man with Naples under his thumb - your ex-handler from your time in Hydra. And suddenly the mission becomes a lot more personal than simple recon and a fire burns deep in your loin.

There’s children. Six shivering corpses tethered together by metal chains - glossy marble eyes, painted with grime and so unnaturally thin.

They were being smuggled.

It hits you like a freight train, knocks the wind from your lungs and you remember the day you were taken – screaming, crying for your parents. But they were dead, painted the wall of your small home in gaudy scarlet and bone. And with them died any possibility of you having a normal life.

They would do the same to these children. They would make them into killing machines – turn them into monsters.

They would turn them into you.

“Y/N, we should call backup.” Bucky warns you. He can see it simmering under your skin, begging to be unleashed and he knows you can’t control it. It’s a reflex, it’s you – uncontrollable, impulsive.

“There’s no time.”

“Darlin’ there’s fifteen of them and -”

“And we will crush every single one of them,” you growl, eyes set alight like a matchstick – tar black pupil licked by the flames of your iris and Bucky is almost scared of you.

You kill all fifteen with ease.

You pop Giovanni’s eyes from his sockets, they spill from his skull glossy red and roll across the floor in a river of gore. The last thing he sees is you. The last thing he feels is excruciating death as it swallows him whole, the dust from his skull powders your fingers.

Bucky can’t stop you. You maim and break and kill and you never even bat those pretty eyelashes – possessed.

It bursts through you – unhinged, deadly – this monstrous being that isn’t really you but it is. It’s the ‘you’ they created. The assassin with no remorse and the devil in her belly. It’s a tragedy, breaking apart in front of his eyes like petals being ripped from a blooming flower and scorched by death so suddenly.

You rip a man’s head clean off his shoulders; the loud tearing of flesh and the crack of bone is the symphony to match your turmoil – the melody that plays and you’re dancing in the centre, coated in blood and muscle with the smell of thick iron in the air – Bucky tastes it on his tongue.

Bucky can’t stop you. He won’t stop you. There’s some deep, shadowed part of him that understands the need to kill, the want to kill those who harm you and it’s all either of them know. He dances the same dance, sings the same symphony and it’s beautifully macabre but it’s them.

And that’s okay.

***

Bucky has nightmares. Lurid red rivers, mountains of bones and it’s all people he’s murdered – their faces printed into his mind in thick ink, forever.

He throws himself from hell one night, sweat slicked and screaming into the black void of night as if anyone’s listening - as though he were looking for the old him.

Bucky grips his hair in his fists, pulls and tugs and he wants to reach into his skull and rip his brain from the top of his spine – smash it until it’s nothing more than matter and blood, because that would be so much less painful than having to see their faces every night.

“James?”

His head whips to the doorway, your silhouette illuminated by the Italian moon and he almost thinks you’re an apparition, a silver skin, as you glide across the floor towards him.

Bucky throws his legs over the side of the bed, pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes and watches the vivid colours dance across the darkness of his eyelids.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” Bucky says, voice choked and broken by despair. “You should go back to sleep.”

You’re in front of him now, kneeling on the floor. Your hands pull his own away from his face because you’re one of the few people who have the strength to do so and he looks at you then.

“I see it all too,” you say softly, a whisper into the night.

Your hand is like a balm to his burning skin as it skims up his arm, fingers grazing the ugly scar at the base of his shoulder, and you’re the only woman that hasn’t been frightened by it – you’re the only woman that’s stayed.

“Do you know what makes it worse, is that I remember who I was before,” Bucky opens up. “I wasn’t always a monster, and I suppose that makes it harder.”

You run both your hands across the wide expanse of mousy skin on his bare chest, your grip more urgent as those small yet powerful hands grip his muscular thighs.

“We’re both monsters James,” you look up at him through those long wispy lashes. “And that’s okay.”

James – no one’s called him that since his mother – and somehow he likes the sound of it on your tongue. You stir something inside him that he thought would never wake up again – caress it with those unusually soft hands and it purrs at you.

And it’s dangerous and dark, and he should probably push you away, but he doesn’t stop you when you reach for his pants and pull them down.

He doesn’t stop you when you lick up his shaft, and tease his balls with a barely-there touch he didn’t think you were capable of. Bucky doesn’t stop you because he wants it – he wants you.

You push his chest down until he crashes against the mattress, primal groan ripping from his throat as you take him deeper into your mouth. It’s wet and hot and everything he ever imagined it would be to have your mouth wrapped around him – bliss.

You swirl your tongue around the tip and look up at him with big, doe eyes and he almost applauds you at how easy you make yourself seem so innocent. And maybe in another lifetime you were, maybe if it were a hundred years earlier, he’d be the dominant one.

“Fuck, baby,” he drawls out, vibranium hand shooting down to lock in your thick hair as you run your teeth up his shaft and no woman’s ever done that to him before. And you do this thing were you twist your head and Bucky swears he sees stars on the ceiling.

He sees heaven and Valhalla and a place he doesn’t deserve, but he knows you don’t deserve it too and he’s not alone.

You moan around him, take him deep into the back of your throat with ease, spit and come are coating your cheeks in transparent ribbons but he knows you don’t care and when he shoots into your mouth you take it all. It’s thick and sticky and leaves behind a burn as it pools in your own stomach with a heavy weight – fat and filling.

You release him with a pop, climb up his body like a monkey and the night air passes over his spit slicked dick and makes him shiver. There’s something about it that’s oddly normal – strangely romantic.  

Bucky reaches his hand out towards your face, runs a calloused thumb across your sharp cheekbone and your lips part slightly at the gentle gesture.

“Gotta admit doll,” Bucky chuckles, humour bouncing around in those stormy eyes. “Was scared you were gonna bite it off.”

“There’s still time yet James.”

And doesn’t he know it.

***

“I’m obsessed with you,” you tell him in Tuscany – bathed in the golden rays of the sun, caressed by the tongues of grass you lay in and you look celestial – as though the gods made you themselves and sent you down as a gift to the earth.

“Obsessed?” Bucky quirks, that Brooklyn glint of mischievousness dots those beautiful blue eyes and he turns to you then.

“Yes,” you reply. “I don’t know what it feels like – to love I mean.”

Bucky pushes himself up on his elbow, drags a cool metal finger up your arm and your nerves dance beneath your skin.

“Well in that case – I’m obsessed with you too.”

And you smile.

***

He makes love to you in Positano.

It was beautiful. Patchwork buildings climbed the Cliffside in all colours – mustard, beige, coral. Scattered along the rock as though it were natural. It was the treasure of the Amalfi Coast – a diamond wedged between lands.

There’s a hotel room. It’s all Old Italian decor – fresh white walls, arched openings, oak curved doors and tile flooring in a burnt copper. An old renaissance style balcony overlooks a deep azure ocean that blends with the sky like paint on canvas, and it’s the purest Bucky has ever seen.

And he feels out of place in between the flimsy opaque drapes and the twisting bougainvillea, which wraps itself delicately around the wrought iron fence in all the colours of a bright summer’s eve.

He feels out of place everywhere.

“There’s this super dope pizza place down the street.” You break through his thoughts with that sultry voice – stop his heart when he sees you.

You’re wearing this pretty dress – buttoned up the front, cotton pink – and Bucky’s tongue catches in his throat like glue at the sight. Because you look at home among the magenta and fuchsia flowers that decorate the lattice with your silky hair and your smooth skin.

And you’re so fucking pretty it stings. Burns deep inside him and presses its weight against his head and he’s dizzy with you.

You smirk at him knowingly, drop the pizza box on the table.

“Like my dress?”

He throws you against the wall

Pushes your back into eggshell painted brick and claims your mouth in a hot searing kiss. It’s more passionate than usual and it takes them both by surprise, because they were both so used to the needy, nasty kisses – stolen in dark places to chase away the shadows.

Bucky’s hands run up your thighs, draw softly over the smooth skin until he reaches your waist – pink pooling over his arms and he lifts you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

When he drops you onto the bed he wastes no time crawling between your legs, tangling his hands into your hair and you moan into his mouth – smile at his lack of patience. You grip his shoulders; feel the muscles quiver beneath your strong hands – the way he opens up to you.

The way he begs you to love him because he can’t do it without you – he would drown.

He travels down, pulls open the front of your dress and you gasp as a button flies off – cracks against the wall.

“James! That was the only pretty thing I own.”

“You’re pretty.” He replies, sucking a nipple into his mouth and you arch your back into him as his fingers crawl down your bare stomach. “You’re really fucking pretty baby.”

It makes you blush. It’s so unfamiliar to you – the compliments, the longing, the way he holds you. It’s foreign and unorthodox but you yearn for it all the same, you need it. And so does Bucky.

He slips his fingers past your folds, his metal hand coming to grip your breast and you hiss at the icy touch – at the way his fingers delve into your wetness and you pull his face down to yours once more, sink your tongue into his mouth and bury it in the warmth of him.

You want to feel more of him, you need to. You want him to fill all your senses; you want to be breathless with him.

His tongue rubs against yours as he fingers your cunt, slides in and out and you’re almost embarrassed at the whines he’s pulling from you. His vibranium hand comes up to cup your cheek as you spill your pleasure onto his hand, something snaps inside your gut and your legs quake.

“I need you,” you breathe to him, warmth brushing across his cheeks. “I need you inside me.”

You push his trousers past his hips, sink your nails into the firm muscle of his ass and he bites your neck – hard. You bleed on his lips as he buries himself into you, your blood smeared across his cheek like war paint and it’s fucking erotic and you love it.

You’re like a dream beneath him and he leans back to watch his cock slide into your velvet pussy, his nerves buzz and he tastes metal on his tongue, he tastes you on his tongue – raw, bare.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” he slams both hands beside your head, thrusts his cock into you as he chases after pleasure, after all he’s been longing for. And you clench around him, whine as you come all over his cock – blood streaking down over your breasts from the opening in your neck.  

You drag your tongue up his ear when he comes and it’s so fucking hot that he thinks it makes him orgasm twice. And you kiss him when he collapses on top of you, suck his bottom lip into your mouth and gnaw on it until he bleeds – grips your hip with titan force.

You chuckle, hum in delight as you lick his blood from his lips. “You taste nice.”

“God, you’re so fuckin’ crazy.” Bucky laughs, breathless.

“Normal women won’t satiate you soldier.” You throw your legs over his waist, plant firm hands on his chest and he loves the way your eyes glisten in the light of dusk – it’s captivating, all encompassing.

“Plus, you bit me first. I was just returning the favour.”

Jesus Christ he loves you.

***

You drag him up a clock tower in Florence.

People gasp and pull faces as you both scale the building but you don’t care – you drag his ass all the way up to the top to watch the stars over the city because you’re impulsive as fuc and he’s infatuated with you.

Bucky’s fingerprints are peeled off by the time you reach the bell, replaced by a raw stinging.  It’s old gold and rusted in parts but it’s beautiful. The sky is dark indigo, fiery lights smeared across the ebony blanket of an Italian night.  

“You made me come all the way up here to watch the stars?” Bucky pants, drops down beside you and watches the stars spill across your face as you scowl.

“You’re no fun,” you pout, bottom lip pillowed. “I betcha Tony would’ve done it for me.”

Bucky scoffs, sees green and he knows it covers him like a filtered light because you give him a smug smile before pecking his cheek.

Space is stretched before them, a promise of life even in the dark, and Bucky steals a glance at you and sees home. He sees the only woman that could ever full understand him, the only woman that can look at the darkness in him and bathe it in light.

“I love you y’know,” Bucky takes your face into his hands, sees the flash of shock in your eyes – scattered among the stars that sparkle crystal in your irises.

But it settles, and you smile when he pecks you. “I haven’t ever loved someone as much as I love you, and I don’t think I ever will again.” He turns back to look at the sky.

“Does it scare you?” your hand clasps the back of his neck. “If I say I love you too.”

“hey – we’re both monsters right?” he smiles.

“But we’ll get there someday.”

[221bshrlocked]

Guys My Age (5)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 5187

Warnings: Angst. Then needy smut since y’all seemed to like that shit as much as I love writing it.

A/N: Use protection homies. Better safe than surprised. Also, I uploaded it to AO3 with gifs since I am not allowed to use gifs on this website anymore cause tumblr has a stick up their ass. And hopefully it’s as good as the other chapters. 

Previous Part

You've accounted for everything when the day started. You've thought of the different ways Steve can find out about his birthday party. You've thought of so many excuses in case he figured out what you guys had planned. You've prepared everything for the surprise, even going as far as making sure Friday wouldn't give your plans away. You've made sure Tony wouldn't slip up by accident and mention something during your missions.

So yeah, you've definitely accounted for everything. Or so you thought. Too bad you didn't realize this until it was too late.

You were now dealing with the consequences of your, arguably good intentioned, actions.

Rewind to about 4 hours ago, you were on your way to the 50th floor with Steve, telling him that something was some debriefing with other agents that were not up to date with some protocols. When he kept on complaining about how these new agents should've done their jobs instead of being hand-fed the rules, you told him to deal with it and it was probably the last time.

As soon as he opened the door, screams erupted from everyone waiting for him, the look on his face priceless because it was totally worth it to yell at each person that almost told him by accident.

Quickly finding your spot next to Bucky, you kissed his cheek before wrapping your arm around him, his own keeping you as close to him as possible. Soon after, the party began, with Tony giving a stupid speech about the ups and downs of life, and teasing Steve about his suits while Steve retaliated and reminded him of the one time he had to help him out when his suit was stuck in the elevator of Buckingham Palace.

You've stayed next to Bucky the entire night, occasionally excusing yourself to get the two of you drinks or mingle with other people you knew. And whenever you took a little longer than usual, Bucky would shoot you a text asking where you were, replying to not take too long and return to him after you're done.

Smiling at the text, you sent him a quick kissy face emoji before returning to the bar and ordering drinks for you and Natasha. Grabbing the drinks, you turned around and crashed into someone immediately, the drinks spilling all over you and making you step back.

"Shit I'm so sorry I didn't see you there at all. Did anything c-" You froze as soon as you saw who it was, face contorting before you turned around and ordered the same drinks again, apologizing to the bartender and helping him clean up the mess.

"Now now, is that anyway to look at your favorite boyfriend?" You couldn't have snorted any louder at his comment, thanking the bartender before walking around this excuse of a man. Not bothering to reply, you continued walking, trying to look for Natasha.

"Come on Y/N, you can't expect me to believe you've forgotten about me." You remained silent, setting down the drinks at a table before texting her real quick. When he grabbed your arm to get your attention, you stopped moving and stared at him, your death stare making him smile at you.

"Now that I have your attention-"

"If you want to keep your arm, I suggest you let go of mine."

"Baby I specifically remember you liking it when I get a little rough." He chuckled, hands still on your arm and beginning to grip it tighter.

"You have about 10 more seconds before I break it so don't say I didn't warn you."

"Do you really think I'm going to believe those little charades with that dick face. I know you miss me sweetheart. I know what you like and what you don't like. I can play your body like a fucking violin and make you cum with one look-" You cut him off once again.

"Please did you really think I ever came when we had sex? That was me trying not to make you feel bad about your tiny dick, which I assume your new girl toy figured was useless since you couldn't even fucking use it."

That seemed to do the trick, but as soon as he let go of your arm, his fingers wrapped around your neck, slamming you hard against the wall before staring at you.

"Listen here you cock slut, I can make a scene or we can go back to my place quietly. If you don’t, I'll send your brain-washed boyfriend the sweet little pics you sent me when we were together…maybe you'll come back to me then when he breaks up with you." You were about to kick him when someone grabbed him by his hair and pulled him away.

"Listen here sweetheart," Natasha imitated him, whispering something in his ear that you couldn't hear but when he looked like he'd seen a ghost, you knew it wasn't something friendly. He walked away without turning back, leaving you and Natasha exchanging a silent conversation before returning to your group.

The problem was, even when you tried to brush the little exchange aside, smiling and laughing like you always do, Bucky sensed something was off. He didn't want to press you on it, knowing you'll probably just tell him later. As the party went into full swing, Bucky asked you to dance with him, his arms wrapped around your form the entire time and keeping you flush to him. He whispered many things in your ears, from the funniest jokes he heard to the filthiest lines that made you squirm in his arms.

But even though you laughed and sighed against him, he knew whatever happened must've been a little worse than he thought.

"Wanna get some air for a bit?" He asked, taking your hands when you nodded quietly before looking everywhere else but him. When he finally had you for himself, he stepped a little closer, arms cornering you against the railing when you kept on staring out to the city and not at him.

"Baby what's wrong?" Bucky truly didn't want to ask but he had a feeling that you might not tell him as he thought.

"N-nothing." Shit, you loved his sense of intuition so much but right at this moment, it was a curse.

"It's not nothing darling I know you. Somethin' happened. Please, let me help you. What happened?" Bucky cooed against your shoulder, kissing your neck before resting his hands on your stomach. Knowing you weren't going to talk like this, he did the only thing he knew would get you to open up. At times like this, getting a little handsy with you was what did it.

Reaching with his metal fingers, he was about to wrap them lightly against your neck when you flinched and let out a sob.

Something changed in the atmosphere at this moment.

Bucky stepped away in an instant, fear washing over him as he took in what just happened. You turned around as soon as you didn't feel his heat any longer, looking up at him and breath hitching when you saw the way he was gazing at you.

"James wait-" Before you could say anything, Bucky was sprinting back into the room, completely ignoring you. By the time you came back to yourself, you were running around trying to find him when you were grabbed and thrown into a room.

"Didn't I say you should come with me quietly?" Your asshole of an ex was about to kick you when you got out the knife in your holster and stabbed his shoulder, his agonizing scream making you just a little happier.

"Son of a bitch. Look what you made me do! Now he thinks I'm afraid of him." He was about to ask you what you meant when you sank the knife deeper in his muscles, his pleas bringing Steve and Sam rushing into the room.

"What the hell is going on here?" Sam asked before looking down and seeing the man crying on the floor. You told them what happened earlier quickly, telling them you needed to find Bucky as soon as possible.

"Y/N just calm down-"

"I'm not going to fucking calm down Rogers. He thinks I'm afraid of him. Do you know how fucking hard it was to get him to finally trust himself. A long ass time. And now this asshat ruined everything." You started heaving, afraid it was all over with Bucky.

"Buck WAIT-" Those two words were the only warning you got right before you heard the familiar sound of metal plates shifting followed by an even louder scream. You turned around and saw Bucky holding your ex against the wall by his neck, his other hand grabbing the knife and violently taking it out before holding his other hand against the wound.

"Give me one good fucking reason why I shouldn’t snap your neck right now." The man looked like he'd seen the devil in front of him, begging Bucky to not kill him and apologizing to you. You knew Bucky would never kill him but the look in his eyes made you doubt yourself a bit.

"James sweetheart listen to me. He's not worth it. Please. Baby he's nothing. Let's just leave. Come with me Bucky please…please." He still wasn't listening to you, wanting nothing more than to hurt the man in front of him.

"Buck listen to her." Steve stepped through and placed his hand on his shoulder, the action calming him down and making him retract his hold on the man before turning around and looking at you.

For the second time that night, Bucky wished he didn't see you looking at him like this. As if he was an unhinged animal.

And for the second time that night, you had to watch him walk away without so much as a word to you. Turning to Steve, you told him you were going to deal with him before running after Bucky. By the time you caught up to him, he was already in the elevator, not bothering to hold it open for you and hissing when you made it just in time.

"What the hell was that?" You didn't mean to sound angry but you were afraid it would have gone further. When Bucky said nothing, you pushed his shoulder, heart rate increasing when he didn't bother trying to tell you to stop. His back hit the wall, hands grasping the railing so hard it bent under him. When he finally did look at you, your heart broke, the defeated expression he held making you wish you let him have his way with your ex.

"You…why didn't you tell me? I, fuck this was a bad idea…I knew this would happen." He whispered to himself, looking to the increasing numbers on the elevator and wishing it would just let him out already. "You knew what would happen? How many times do I have to tell you, I am not afraid of you. I never was and I never will be." You sounded hurt, trying to see if there was any way you could get this message across.

"Oh yeah, well why did you pull away?" Bucky knew the answer but he didn't want to believe it. Some part of him thought he was the guilty one.

"BECAUSE THAT ASSHOLE ALMOST KILLED ME MINUTES BEFORE! IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT! I WAS JUST REACTING TO THE MOTION JAMES NOT TO YOU. I mean for fuck’s sake, I told you I know you’d never hurt me." Your anger seeped through, arms pushing him again before continuing your attack on his shoulders. Bucky didn't bother to try and stop you, almost crying along with you.

"You- you're lying." He sounded broken and you wished you could take back the last hour.

"I would never lie to you James and you fucking know this. And if we're talking about shit that I knew would happen, what was that? Every single time we see him, you manage to keep it together. What the fuck was that huh? Do you have any idea what he's going to say now? They…they might take you from me. I- shit, James I don't know what I'd do if he pressed charges." Panic was evident in your voice, making Bucky scrunch his face and yell back.

"I DID THAT BECAUSE HE SHOULDN’T HAVE LAID A FINGER ON YOU. I DID THAT BECAUSE I PROMISED YOU I WOULD NEVER LET ANYONE HURT YOU AND I COULDN'T KEEP THAT FUCKING PROMISE." The elevator dinged, Bucky watching you walk out first before letting out a laugh.

"Oh yeah because you have to be James Barnes, the man who saves the damsel in distress whenever he could. Unfuckingbelievable." You headed towards the stairs, throwing your bag on the couch and beginning your ascent to your room when you felt a pair of hands wrapping around your waist and pushing your face against the wall.

"Do you wanna say that again to my face sweetheart? Cause the last time I checked, you had no fucking problem with me doing just that every time he pissed you off. Or are you forgetting now?" Bucky whispered in your ear, stopping your oncoming remark with a bite to your neck. You hated the effect he had on you but you couldn't hold back the groan bubbling its way through your lips. “Isn’t that right doll? You fucking love it when I show him who you belong to don’t you? In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me that turned you on.” When you whimpered in his arms, he laughed, his hands roaming your body before grabbing you roughly just like you wanted.

“There she is. My pretty doll loves it when I mark her...you live for it Y/N and don’t fucking deny it cause I know. I know how you like it...how you love it when I make you mine every fuckin’ night. You love it when I fuck this tight cunt, makes you wet every time I fuck you with these.” He made sure you knew what he was referring to, grasping you through your clothes with his metal fingers and rubbing your pussy as hard as he could until you melted in his arms.

“B-bucky…” You sighed when he kissed your neck, moaning when you didn’t feel him against you anymore. You turned around in time to see him taking his clothes off and you tried to face him but he combed his hands through your hair before pulling harshly on it and pushing you down against the table near the stairs. You swore from how angry he was and he mocked you again right before spanking your ass.

“Baby I told you...can’t fucking lie to me. Your body speaks for you dollface,” He practically ripped the jacket off of you, not bothering to unzip your pants before pulling them as aggressively as he could down your legs. “Fuck me…” You tried to look back at him but he didn’t give you a chance, his hands going through your panties before pulling on them, the sound of fabric snapping once again turning you on more than it should.

“That’s right baby, you’re fucking mine. Mine. I own this pussy. I own this fucking body...your soul is mine Y/N.” You knew he was saying those things out loud more for himself than to you. His insecurities were shedding off of him like hair from a dog and you wanted nothing more than to hug him and tell him he has nothing to worry about. But he needed this. You both needed this. He needed to know he was in charge and he needed to understand you weren’t going anywhere.

So when you heard him unzipping his pants, you braced yourself for the onslaught that was to come. His cock went in with ease and you laughed because he wasn’t wrong. You loved seeing him asserting his dominance, some weird part of you loving it when he made it clear you were his and he was yours. Like the two of you were a pair of fucking animals that bonded for life. “Fuck babygirl, always so tight for me...so hot and wet squeezin the shit outta my cock doll fuck-” He rested his head against your back, sighing and telling you he could die in between your legs.

You held him onto him, hands scratching the arms around your waist and telling him you loved him. “Harder Buck...fuck me, god yes yes wanna feel your cock for days baby harder, fuck me harder please...let me feel you James shit shit.” He bit your shoulder again and you screamed from the pleasure you felt through the pain, biting your lips and telling him you loved it when he was rough.

“Take what you want James...take everything you want, I fucking love it. Love you so much baby fuck you’re so hard yes. Yes!” You continued to encourage him, knowing he needed to hear you now more than ever. You held back the tears waiting to roll down your cheeks, a part of you feeling he might misunderstand and stop, which was the last thing you’d want. His hands moved every second all over your body, wanting to touch you everywhere all at once and keep you as close to him as possible. He knew he should stop and just talk through this but he could do that later. Right now, all he wished was to bury himself so deep inside you until he couldn’t think of anything else other than your pussy clenching hard around him.

You managed to turn your face, wanting to look at his wrecked face as he fucked inside of you over and over again. He wrapped an arm around your chest, pinching and cupping your nipples until you were screaming his name alone. He switched to Romanian and you managed to understand a few words, ones he happened to whisper on your skin every night he fucked you. You told him you loved it when he dirty talked in other languages even though you understood nothing. But there was something special about the Romanian that made your skin flush.

But no matter how much you told him, he didn’t go near your neck. You grabbed for his metal hand and tried to place it around your neck but he refused and pushed your face down further, silently telling you to not ask him again.

“Love you so much doll face, so fucking much. Shit baby you’re always so good for me, your cunt was made for me darlin’, made for my cock. Wanna worship you every minute of every fucking day sweetheart Jesus ffffuck-” He grabbed your forehead and pulled it back, licking and biting the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and leaving wet kisses on every inch of your exposed skin.

“That’s it Y/N, so good for me dollface. Gonna make you cum so hard you only think of me and no one else. No man else. God you’re so good to me tonight...I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry baby I love you.” You were suddenly aware of how scared he was, and cried as soon as you heard his apologies.

“I love you James, love you so much. I- you’re everything to me. Shit ‘m close baby, don’t stop Buck please. Need your cum baby...cum for me, cum inside me James please. Fuck please yes yes,” you went almost hysterical with every second you felt his cock dragging against your wet pussy, legs giving out on you and holding onto his arm so you didn’t fall. “Who do you belong to pretty baby? Who fucking owns this pussy? Hmm, shit baby I’m gonna cum fuck fuck r-right there fffffuck-” He screamed his release against your back, biting down on the flesh until he felt your walls fluttering around his hard cock. When you cried out with him, he immediately lowered his hand, rubbing your clit so hard you felt the blood rushing to every vein in your body.

You tried to hold his hand to make him stop but he didn’t care, slapping your pussy as he came in hot spurts inside you, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm and telling you he’s not even close to finishing with you yet.

You fell on the table in front of you, nails digging into his arms until you felt his cock slip out and you squirting all over his pants. He continued to rub your wet pussy, chuckling against your shoulder when you actually started crying from how sensitive you were.

“Such a pretty sight, all for me. So fucking wet for me baby girl shit. So pretty.” He finally stopped when he felt you slipping down against him, unable to keep yourself standing any longer. The two of you were heaving, and Bucky wrapped his arms around you, carrying you up the stairs to your room before laying you on the bed as slowly as possible. He saw your legs still shaking from the intense orgasms he, quite literally, forced out of you. He should’ve felt bad for how wrecked you looked but he was proud that he was the only one that could make you feel this way.

Pulling down his pants, he threw his clothes away and stepped between your legs, stripping you of your clothes and apologizing when his hands touched your thighs. You’ve never come this hard in your life and were hyper-aware of every small touch on your heated skin. Laying next to you, he pulled the covers over the two of you and sighed when you scooted as close to him as possible. He kissed your forehead and apologized one more time before drifting off to sleep.

Hours later, you woke up to something soft and wet around your nipples, eyes opening slowly and looking down only to see Bucky licking and cupping your breasts, a devilish smile gracing his handsome features before he bit down hard and continued to tease you.

“Ahh god yes sir…” You sighed, voice hoarse both screaming and sleeping.

“Naughty little girl, waking me up with this cute little ass of yours rubbing my dick...you having a sex dream about me baby?” Bucky asked, once again rubbing his beard against your nipples and making you arch your back against him. You combed your fingers through his hair, pulling on it until he growled against your skin. You couldn’t take it any longer, begging him to stop teasing and finish off what he started.

“But you’ve been a bad girl doll face...god damn you’re soft,” he drew circles around them, watching each one pebble and harden between his fingers. “Your body’s so ready for me isn’t it darlin?” Bucky looked up and saw you staring right at him, lips lower lip between your teeth and eyes begging him to do something more.

“Always,” you whispered, hoping he’d know what you’ve been trying to tell him all night long. He laughed and shook his head, descending down your body and mapping your exposed skin with as many kisses as possible. As soon as he tapped on your thighs, you opened them for him, goosebumps slowly making an appearance on your skin because of the way he was looking at your pussy.

“Fuck Y/N...your cunt looks so pretty, just wanna devour you baby,” he didn’t waste any more time, raising one leg high above his head before licking a long stripe across your pussy. Your hips bucked involuntarily and he slapped your inner thigh, telling you to behave so he didn’t have to punish you.

“Yes sir..sorry sir,” you sighed, telling him to keep rubbing his beard against your thigh. “So fucking responsive from the smallest touches. Shit baby you’re my world, my fucking universe,” he took your clit between his lips, sucking so hard on the bundle of nerves until you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your orgasm hit you without a warning and you came on his face, gushing and trying to push him away from you. Bucky didn’t give you a chance to pull away from him, metal hand ascending your body until it grabbed hold on one of your breasts and squeezing it tightly while holding your thighs near his face.

He didn’t stop for a second, wanting to make you cum one last time before giving you some time to rest. When your back arched until you sat up and ceased breathing, Bucky slowed down but not before giving you a quick kiss. You fell back down, grabbing your stomach and your neck to try and calm your heart rate. Bucky kissed his way up your body until he faced you. His eyes betrayed his thoughts, focusing on your throat and making you feel like shit all over again.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, hands reaching behind his neck and lowering him down until his lips met yours. “You know I’d never be scared of you right?” You asked, hoping he’d give you the answer you were hoping for.

When he said nothing, you shut your eyes and covered them, not wanting to ruin the moment but knowing there was no holding back the tears. “Buck I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I swear on my life it was because of that dickhead. Not you. Never you!” You hid behind your elbows, letting go of him and attempting to get out of bed.

He kept you between his arms and refused to let you go, pulling your arms down and holding you against him until you stopped crying.

“Okay.” He whispered into your ears and although it was such a small word, it meant the world to you.

“Please stop crying Y/N I can’t stand seeing you crying. Especially when it’s because of me. Please darling.” He took hold of your cheeks and placed your head against his chest. “Hear that sweetheart. I ain’t lying. I trust that you’re telling me the truth. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“No it’s not your fault. You don’t apologize Bucky. You never have to apologize to anyone.” You got a little angry when he tried to turn the tables and he laughed at how serious you became all of a sudden.

“I trust your love baby. I trust your love.” He pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead, finally gaining some courage to wrap his metal fingers around your throat and massage the red bruises forming all around. He loved seeing the discoloration that formed on your skin but only when the two of you fucked the breath out of each other. He couldn’t stand the thought of someone else touching you and marking you. Leaning down, he left a small kiss on every inch of your neck, apologizing that he wasn’t there to stop him from grabbing you and wishing he was the one hurt instead.

You sighed with every pass of his soft lips over your flushed skin, pulling on his hair and wrapping your arms around him to bring him closer to you. When he took hold of your waist and turned you around so your back was against his chest, you threw your head back, hands slowly pumping his cock before raising your leg and resting it on his thigh.

He thrust in with ease, his hips bucking in and out of you before he wrapped his palm around your neck again. You looked into each other’s eyes, silently conveying your feelings before your mouths came together for a dizzying kiss.

You could feel his hold tighten around you and you loved it, holding onto the back of his neck to keep his as close to you as possible. No matter how many times he pleasured you, it always felt like the first time for the two of you.

Bucky moaned against you, wanting to say so many things but refusing to pull away from your lips. He told you on several occasions if he could spend the rest of his life kissing you, he would die a happy man. He held you against him, finding peace in feeling your skin sliding against him as he pleasured you. When he felt your nails digging into his back, he snapped his hips harshly, causing you to pull away from him and scream his name against his neck.

“Fuck James...that’s it baby, no one fucks me like you James, ahhhh ff-uck, this pussy is all yours fuck fuck all yours.” As soon as he lowered his hand and flicked your clit, your legs started shaking against him, cunt squeezing him so hard he couldn’t hold back anymore. Sitting up, he turned you until you were on your stomach, raising your hips and holding onto your waist before setting an ruthless pace. You could feel every thing that touched you, biting your pillow as you heard the sounds of his grunts and his skin slapping yours over and over again. This was the first time he said nothing. Instead, he just prayed your name and moaned, looking down and biting his lips as he saw you completely at his mercy.

“Love you...fuck fuck I love you so much doll, so much. My heart is yours baby, my fucking soul has your name written on it. Shit gaaahd fuck ‘m gonna cum darlin your cunt is so hot for me yes….sshit!” He fell on top of you, growling when you milked his cock of every last drop of his cum. You shuddered when you felt him spazzing inside you, loving the way his cock was never soft even after he took his pleasure numerous times during the night.

He didn’t bother to pull out, falling to the side and pulling you towards him. He kissed your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you, telling you to rest because he was definitely going to wake you up again.

A distant ringing made you groan before attempting to stand up and look for the source of noise to stop it. You couldn’t move however, tapping on Bucky’s arm so he could let you go and laughing when he only tightened his arms around you.

“Noo.” He whined, making you laugh at how childish he was sometimes. When you told him you were just grabbing your phone, he managed to let go for a few seconds but kept his arms around some part of you. You unlocked it and saw a million messages from everyone on the team.

“Steve is asking if we’re okay.” You said it more like a question than a comment, wanting to make sure the two of you made up before you got out of your room. When he sleepily told you to tell Steve to ‘kindly fuck off with his righteous shield,’ you laughed and texted him that everything was fine.

[forever-more-never-again]

True Savior

Requested @mythixmagic

Word Count:6174

Pairing: Kid!Reader X Parent!Natasha X Parent!Clint X Twin!Sibling

Warnings: Swearing, alludes child abuse, angst

Request: Would you be willing to do an story to True Evil? Angsty as all hell, but in the end Clint and Natasha do save R?

a/n: This is not related to my fics named ‘True Evil’, and is it’s own unique fic. I hope you all enjoy it.

Masterlist

Verräter - Traitor

Maybe if your parents had actually shown their love, you wouldn’t be in the position you were in currently.

Staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Do it. Do it!” Your voice screeched. Your hands clenching and unclenching as they hung by your side. Your lips quirked up in a twisted smirk.

“You can’t. You’re too weak. Like father, like son.”

The person on the other side of the gun looked at you with pity and sorrow. Their upper lip quivered as you looked at eyes identical to your own.

“[Y/n]...please.” Your twin’s voice broke. The gun wavered and then fell to their side. Their finger moving off the trigger.

A mistake.

Without letting them take another breath, you leapt at them. Hands outstretched to grab their neck as you twisted your legs around their torso.

“Argh!” You screamed. All the years of pent up anger and humiliation and pain finally pouring through as you squeezed the life out of your twin’s body.

“[Y/n]! That’s enough!”

You turned, your hands resting just slight of killing your twin, their face turning bluer by the second. Standing on the roof edge was none other than Hawkeye, Clint Barton, the deaf archer...or as you used to know him by, Father.

“Hello Daddy!” You smiled, the fake happiness oozing like oily from your mouth.

His eyes squinted as he raised his knocked arrow, “Don’t make me do this. Please. I love you.”

You scoffed. Your twin wiggled under you, their eyes bulging. You knew they only had a minute at best left if you kept squeezing, “Is that so? So, riddle me this, if you love me, why did you never show it!?” You tightened your hands, causing your twin to make a choking sound, emphasizing just who you were talking about.

And then, you were thrown backwards.

“[Y/n]! Stop!”

Your fake smile returned as you quickly leapt back to your feet. “Mother! It’s a family reunion!”

Natasha glared at you from beside your twin, who was collapsed on the ground, drawing in huge gasps of air.

“You chose this route. But we want you to come back to us. We want to prove that we love you. We never stopped loving you. It’s not too late to change back to the true you.”

You broke. Doubled over in hysterical laughter. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Even to you, the laughter sounded unhinged.

“You want me to be the true me!? This is the true me!” You straightened up, all traces of laughter gone as you sneered at the three people who had betrayed you.

You opened your arms wide, the smoke and fire, the sound of bullets and screams rising up from the streets below the roof you all stood on.

“Hydra has shown me what I can be when I’m surrounded by those who trust and love me!”

Natasha and Clint took a cautious step towards you, “[Y/n]. You know Hydra is evil. They only fake those things so that they can get you to do what they want to. You know what they did to James. You’ve seen the horrors. You used to look forward to being a hero.”

Scoffing, you took a step backwards towards the edge of the roof. The sky a soft red as the sun began setting on the destroyed Italian City.

“I don’t care. They never forgot my birthday.” Your parents and twin winced. “And that’s just one of many things you forgot about me. So...Either you kill me, and forget about me entirely...or I kill you so that I can finally forget the family that betrayed me.”

You said those last sentences calmly, eyeing the three heroes.

Waiting...the air tense with the anticipation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alex! Give him back!” You giggled as you ran after your twin, who was running away with your favorite stuffed rabbit.

“Only if you promise to train with me later!” Your twin yelled back over their shoulder with a laugh.

Putting on a burst of speed, you threw you ten year old self at your twin and tumbled on the floor together.

Both of you dissolved into giggles as you tried to untangle from each other.

“[Y/n]! What did I tell you about roughhousing outside of the gym?” Natasha walked into your bedroom with a disapproving frown on her face.

You immediately grew quite and curled up in on yourself. Noticing this, your twin stood up for you, “It was my fault Mom. I took Rabbit from [Y/n] and teased them.”

Your mother shook her head with a sigh, “I don’t want to hear excuses for them Alex. [Y/n] should know better. Especially if they want to join the Avengers some day.”

With that, she left the room.

Sitting next to you, your twin tried to cheer you up, “You’re going to be the best Avenger ever. Just wait.”

You sighed, shaking your head, your tiny hands picking at the seams of your rabbit, “Why even bother trying? Mother and Father always seem to find something wrong with me. And besides, what makes them think we can be Avengers? We don’t even know who our real parents are.”

Your twin grabbed your hands, stilling them, until you looked over at them, “They may not be our birth parents, but they are our real parents. They raised us, and even though they are harsh on you, I will never let you forget that I love you. Okay?”

You let out a wet laugh, “You goofball. I love you to. You’re my twin. You have to love me.” And you tackled them to the ground.

“Hahah! [Y/n]! Agh! Stop tickling me!”

You laughed along with them, “Never!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your arm raised to block the kick from Natasha before immediately dodging an arrow from Clint.

“I’ve gotten better! Faster! Stronger! Without you!” You yelled out triumphantly as you landed a punch to your twin’s face, knocking them back.

Sprinting across the roof, you stopped at the edge and turned, giving a jaunty wave to your family, before falling backwards off of it.

“[Y/n]!”

Your twin’s tortured scream echoed alongside the rushing wind in your ear as you fell.

And then stopped as you pushed a hidden button on your jacket sleeve that activated your jet boots, slowing your descent until you landed gracefully on the pavement.

Craning your neck, you looked up the fifty stories at your family, before running off into the city streets.

“Head back to base!” You ordered into your comms.

As you ran past the broken store windows, the burning cars, and the terrified Italian citizens, you couldn’t help the urge deep inside you that said this was wrong and that you needed to help the people hiding behind their stores.

Shaking your head, you growled at yourself. That was the past! You were stronger now! You didn’t need anyone's praise or thanks, you just needed to take what you wanted and show the word that they didn’t own you.

~~~~~~~~~~

“[Y/n]! Stand up straighter! Be more like Alex for once! Stop fooling around! Be serious!”

Your father’s words cycled on repeat in your head as you headed to the locker room after a grueling afternoon training session.

Slamming your locker shut, you heaved a deep breath, closing your eyes you pressed your forehead against the cool metal.

“Why!?” You whispered harshly at yourself. Why couldn’t they be proud of you for once?

A hand settled on your shoulder and you acted before thinking, taking the hand in yours, you turned and thrusted, putting the person on their back within a second.

“Woah. Sorry.”

You let go of the hand when you registered their face and voice, “Sorry Alex. You startled me.”

Your twin bounced up, dusting off their pants, a smile on their face, “You really got me. I should’ve been prepared. Oh, and good practice today. You are getting really good at target practice and that new Ballerina move mom was showing you. Surprising for such a puny twelve year old.” They teased, elbowing you.

Walking beside your twin down the hallway of the compound to your rooms, you didn’t return their smile or enthusiasm, “Didn’t you hear Father? I’m a complete failure.”

Your twin put out an arm, stopping you from walking further. They turned to you, concerned, “He doesn’t think that [Y/n]. Why would you say that?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. To show weakness. “You heard him yelling at me today. Add that with all the times they yell at me or I get in trouble for the tiniest thing, and it’s obvious that they don’t love me.”

You gulped, desperately shoving the rising grief down deep inside. You couldn’t look at your twin anymore, as their eyes shown with their own tears and sorrow...and worst of all, pity.

Twisting their arm out of your way, you walked on, “They love you, Alex. You’re their true child.” A whispered remark, thrown over your shoulder to where your twin stood, still, in the hall.

~~~~~

“Commandeer! The head would like a status report of yesterday’s events.” Your right hand man stood, with his fist on his heart, by the door to your office.

Rubbing your head, you waved at him to be at ease. “I’ll get to it. Is everything ready for tomorrow’s broadcast?”

Dimitri nodded, still standing at attention, “The super cables enhanced with Vibranium have been tested and are being loaded. You just need to decide on the distraction so that we can enter the New station in relative ease.”

You sighed, looking down at the papers that littered your desk. “Let’s go with the bank robber route, that’s the most likely to draw a crowd and the reporters.”

“Hail Hydra!” Dimitri shouted, and then he left, shutting the door behind him.

“Hair Hydra.” You whispered to yourself.

Leaning back in your chair, you closed your eyes for a moment.

After the mission yesterday, your sleep had been restless as memories of your childhood filtered through.

Laughing with Wanda and Pietro. Hanging off of Bucky’s metal arm, squealing for him to throw you. Having Steve take you jogging in Central Park on the weekends, and stopping for Ice cream at nine in the morning.

The happy times. None of which, had your parents in them.

And then there were the memories of your twin. Of holding their hands, huddling under the covers as a storm raged through the night. Making up a secret language to communicate during boring Avenger meetings that you were forced to sit in on. Teasing each other about random things.

Cracking your neck, you shook away the thoughts, you had made your choice years ago. And now, you had to see them through, or die trying.

Pulling up the encryption, you sent out a coded message to the head base, asking for a virtual call to report your mission.

A few minutes later and a grainy feed was up on your computer showing a grizzled face of a man hardened by war.

“Misha.” You nodded in respect at the man. The one who was in charge of your section.

The man spoke with a heavy german accent, the sound going in and out as the feed shook, “How was the Italian Terror?”

You pulled a stack of reports to you, glancing down quickly at them, “It went off without a hiccup-”

You got cut off as the man shook his head at you, a dangerous glint in his eyes, “You know [Y/n]...I never trusted the Head Council’s decision to let an Avenger in...even if they did say they wanted to help destroy them. So, I ask again, how was it?”

You swallowed hard. Even though you had worked for Hydra for years, and had quickly risen through the ranks, you knew better than to think that you were indispensable. You could be replaced, and your death could happen at any moment.

“There was a small delay with the original plan as Hawkeye, Black Widow and Peace.”

Misha smiled cruelly, “Aww a little reunion. Don’t think I have forgotten your codename...War.”

You gritted your teeth against his obvious attempt at getting a rouse out of you. Before you had left your family, you and your twin had chosen your codenames. War and Peace...after the book of the same name by Leo Tolstoy.

With you now gone and going by the code name, The Traitor, your twin’s codename made little sense.

“I made sure they did not interfere with the mission and kept them occupied while my men found the needed Vibranium. Our mission for tomorrow is a go.”

Misha shrugged, looking indifferent. The grainy static of your computer causing a headache to begin to form behind your eyes.

“No worries then. I shall be watching you, Verräter.” And he signed off.

Your computer going back to normal as the encryption worked to erase any evidence that you had talked to Misha at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m done! I’m just done with trying to prove myself to them.” You crammed your clothes into the duffel bag you had out on your bed.

Alex, your twin, trying to stop your hands.

“[Y/n]. I know they were harsh today, but don’t do this! We’re finally avengers, just like we always dreamed of! You can’t...you really want to leave me?”

You froze, closing your eyes, but that didn’t stop the lone tear from falling from your lashes, carving a path of sorrow down your face.

“I’m so sorry Alex. But I can’t do it anymore. You were meant to be their child. I was just the extra that they never wanted.”

Your twin pulled you in for a hug, their tears flowing freely, they didn’t care that it looked weak in your eyes.

“You can’t leave me [Y/n].” Pulling back, they stared into your wide eyes, “If you leave, I leave.”

You shook your head frantically, pulling your hands from theirs, “No. Alex. You love it here, they love you. You need to stay.”

Your twin reached out a hand, but you stepped out of reach, “They never forgot your birthday,” They winced, hand lowering slowly, “They gave you presents for christmas, while I got a diet book or a weight loss class coupon.” Their eyes closed, tears streaming down their face, “They always praised you and gave you pie after training sessions while I got yelled at and forced to do the team’s laundry all night.” They sobbed, hands coming to cover the sound, “They spoke of you to the public, praising you when you took down that bank robber, while I stood in the shadows, blood dripping from the gunshot in my shoulder from tackling the goon so that you could tie him up.”

Your twin’s legs gave out, and they landed heavily on their knees, their back shaking with the force of their sobs. You kept your gaze straight ahead as you zipped your duffel bag and slung it over your shoulder.

As you walked past the huddled form of the one person you loved the most, you paused for a moment and whispered, “You were meant for greatness, to be the true savior of this city. I was meant to die at birth.”

And you walked out of the Avenger’s compound, never looking back. And within a few months, found yourself on Hydra’s doorstep on the path to a world of darkness and hatred.

~~~~~~~~

“Is it set up?” You asked the various men in combat suits as they typed on the large computers and monitors in front of you.

The whimpers of the few newsroom personnel as they sat gagged against the wall was the only sound beside the hum of the large machines.

“Got a signal boss. Give the word and this will be broadcasted worldwide.”

You nodded at the man who said that, “And the bank robbery?”

Another man spoke up, “They have gotten away clean and clear. Reporters are heading back here now.”

Another nod, “It’s time then. On my count.”

You walked to the set, standing before the large camera. A cowl over your face, your mouth the only thing visible.

“Three.”

Lights turned on.

“Two.”

A hum began building as the vibranium infused cables were connected.

“One.”

And you were broadcasting.

“Hello citizens of Earth.” You could see your face reflecting back to you on the various monitors, with your words being translated in multiple languages underneath in taglines.

“Hydra has a message we would love for you to hear. The era of heroes is about to come to an end.”

Your men blocking the door raised their weapons as footsteps could be heard coming towards the room. Yous stayed focused on your words.

“Hydra will soon rise to rule and bring harmony to all. Why cling to the idea that you have free will? What will war and death bring the countries fighting among each other? With Hydra overseeing the world, you will know no hunger, no child will be without it’s mother and father, no person will have to deal with destruction that heroes bring in their claim for ‘Peace’”. You spit the word out with a sneer.

There was loud pounding on the studio doors. Your men opened fire, the rat-a-tat-tat of the weapons a symphony backing up your look of steel and your words of fire.

“One way or another...Hydra will become your ruler. So it’s up to you to choose. Will you march on your current leaders and bring us their heads? Or will we have to destroy you and let you watch the flames kill everything you love. It’s up to you. We are eager to hear your response.”

And the broadcast ended.

“We have to go! Scanners are calling in the Avengers!”

You swore under your breath. You were in Detroit, so they would be here in no time.

Running past your men, you shouted orders, “Grab the cables! Get the chip from the monitor! Cover our exit! Move! Move! Move!”

Your small squadron raced behind you as you shoved open the doors on the roof.

Grabbing the parachutes that you had stored there months before, you quickly harnessed yourself in.

“Go! Go! Go!”

You shouted at your men as they ran to the edge and leapt off. A whirlwind stirred up the leaves on the roof as a familiar sight came into view. A Quinjet.

“Shit!”

You ran and leapt after your men, plummeting down the side of the tower. As you neared the ground, you pulled open your parachute.

Stumbling on the ground, the fall jarring your knees and causing you to hold back a scream. You looked back and saw the quinjet circling back.

A Squeal of tires, and a Jaguar pulled up beside you. Jumping in through the window, you raced off into traffic.

“It’s Iron Man. Dammit. Move to plan evasive maneuver B!” You called out into your comms.

You instructed your driver on where to go as you tried to shake the gold and red man following you in the air.

Pulling Into an underground subway. You quickly changed cars. Climbing into a cleaning van.

The Jaguar peeled away, racing ahead and leading Iron Man away.

Meanwhile, the cleaning van merged with traffic and headed to the safe house.

~~~~~~~~~~

“They said that they should have died at birth...and then they left.”

Natasha clung onto Clint as they listened to what their kid was saying.

“FRIDAY?” Natasha called out to the AI.

“Yes Miss Romanoff?”

“What is [Y/n] Romanoff-Barton’s last known location.”

A whirr, “[Y/n] was last seen boarding a shipment bound for Europe roughly twenty four hours ago, and then goes dark.”

“No...No..” Tears fell from Natasha’s eyes as she clung to Clint.

Clint shook, his own eyes staring at the one child in front of them. “Why didn’t you stop them?” He asked. Trying to stay calm.

Alex trembled, but stayed standing, “I tried. Dad. I tried. But I’ve known for years that they felt unappreciated and unloved by you guys. I should’ve said something sooner. I should’ve…”

And they fell to the ground. Sobbing into their hands.

Warm arms and bodies fell on top of them as Natasha and Clint hugged them, crying along with them at the loss of their child.

“We’ll bring them home.” Natasha whispered to her husband and child.

Alex rubbed their nose, “How?”

Clint shared a look with Natasha, “By proving our love for them. We never knew that they felt that way, we just wanted them to see the potential that we saw in them. I guess we went about it the wrong way.”

Alex frowned, “Why did you treat me differently then?”

Natasha nuzzled her face into their hair, “Because you already had confidence in yourself and it showed. But we should have trained both of you the same.”

“You forgot their birthday, and it’s the same as mine.”

“We never forgot their birthday. When they were a kid, they said they hated parties, that it stressed them out, so we stopped putting the attention on them. We never knew they felt left out because of that decision.”

“For Christmas-”

“We heard them talking to Steve about how they wanted to be better. They never gave us anything else to work with.”

“Training-”

“We thought it would motivate them.”

“That bank robbery a few years back-”

“We knew they were hurt, and we know that they don’t like shows of weakness. We thought we were doing the right thing.”

“I love you mom...Dad...and we’ll bring [Y/n] back from wherever they ran to.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“That was close.” you muttered. Pulling the curtains close again as the police sirens faded in the distance.

Falling backwards into the chair, you looked around the safe house. It was more of a safe apartment.

Hidden on the outskirts of Detroit, it used to be a nursing home before it was abandoned. Setting up one of the old rooms into an office, you had never planned to use this outpost. Yet, here you were.

“I wonder what Alex is up to? I wonder if they ever finished that Psychology degree they were doing online?”

You hadn’t realized you were talking out loud until the silence grew deafening. Sitting up, you looked at your squadron who were all staring at you.

“Commandeer...have you been compromised?” One member asked hesitantly.

You shook your head, “Sorry Kovinach, just rambling. Prepare for departure in 0800 hours.”

You went back to looking at the sunlight filtering from between the curtains covering the window. It didn’t do to try and think about your family. They would be gone soon enough. For good.

And yet, despite what you had been working towards, and planning for years, looming closer in your sight, your chest hurt when you thought about never seeing them again. On or off the battlefield.

Never seeing your mother’s vibrant red hair. Never laughing with your twin when your father forgot to charge his hearing aids and acted like a mime instead of using ASL. Never raiding the Avengers cabinets with Alex, looking for the cookies that Bucky and Steve hid.

“Ugh!” You grimaced, clutching your chest.

You had wanted them dead, so that you could forget about them. Like they had forgotten you all those years. But...doubt flickered in your mind.

If you really wanted them dead, you could have killed them on that tower in Italy. You could have killed them countless times. But something always stopped you. Did you still love them? No, impossible.

You shook your head at that thought.

But then, why else let them continue breathing? Hydra head expected you to be the one to kill them, since it had been your plan in the first place.

“Commandeer Verräter come in. Over.” Misha’s voice spoke loudly from the old scanner.

Raising the microphone, you clicked it on, “This is Terror.”

“Successful operation. The world leaders are trying to shut down the broadcast, but it has already spread around the globe and onto the darknet.”

“Glad you are pleased Misha.”

“Now, the only thing left to do is deal with those pesky family ties you have. ”

You winced, “Yes sir. Right away.”

“Tonight.”

You gasped, “That wasn’t the deal! I had until the coalition moved forward with the march.”

Misha laughed, the sound filled with static...and malice, “That was until they showed up right outside your door. You have until tonight, or it will be your head that gets brought in front of the council. Good luck.”

You slammed the handheld microphone down on the desk. Shattering it.

“Damn!”

“Commandeer?”

“Leave me alone!” You screamed, throwing the scanner at the man who intruded.

You dry heaved. Hunched over in the chair, staring at the wood floor. Your vision swam. Now with your family's death looming over you. You knew without a doubt...you still loved them.

How would you be able to kill them? You had to. To survive. That was always the goal. Survive and prove that you were strong. That you didn’t need them.

Straightening, you wiped your eyes. No tears. No weakness. You had killed before. You would kill again.

Now. For the plan….

~~~~~~~~~~

“Mom?” Your voice wavered as you clung to the old payphone. You kept your hat down low and your coat collar up, trying to stay as hidden as you could.

“[Y/n]!? [Y/n] is that you?” Natasha’s voice was filled with emotion, “Clint! It’s [Y/n]!”

You could hear some rustling and then another familiar voice filled the air, “[Y/n]? We saw the broadcast. What are you doing!? Stop this madness, please.”

Your voice broke, “Dad..I-I know. I realized that they were using me. I overheard them talking. They...they’re going to kill me! I was just a pawn..”

Both of your parents talked over each other, “Oh honey.”

“[Y/n], where are you?”

“We can help you stop them.”

“We need to know what they are planning.”

“We love you so much.”

“We never stopped looking for you.”

“Alex will be so happy to have you back.”

“We can work with the government to grant you a pardon. Like they did with Bucky.”

You interrupted them, catching the eye of one of your squadron members patrolling the street, “Mom. Dad. I...I can’t just leave. They’ll know I betrayed them. They would go after all of you. I know..I know I acted rashly before. Leaving. Instead of talking to you guys. I wish I could change time. But I can’t.”

“What are you proposing?” Your father, the levelheaded one. The calm one.

You choked down a deranged laugh, “Meet me at the Detroit Zoo tonight. I want to see you. I’ll make sure I’m not followed. We can discuss how to extract me. Please...I miss you. I- I love you guys.”

A choked sob from your mother, “Of course. We’ll see you soon.”

You whispered quickly, “I have to go! They’ll get suspicious of me being outside for so long! See you tonight. Seven.”

And you hung up the payphone.

Drawing in a deep breath, you stepped out of the booth.

“They tracked the call, most likely.”

You grinned, “I’m counting on it.”

~~~~~~~

You walked into the zoo. The night sky shining down on you. The only sounds, animals as they moved in their enclosures.

“Ready Alpha one.”

Your comm sparked to life.

You whispered, “Stay in position until you see the signal.”

“Copy that.”

You walked further into the Zoo. Mindful of your squadron that were scattered in different areas, watching.

“[Y/n]?”

Your name, a whispered sigh of disbelief.

“Mother.”

And then arms were hugging you.

You forced yourself to relax in her arms.

“I’ve missed you so much. I thought you were gone for good when you tried to kill your sibling on that rooftop.”

You smiled softly, “I almost did. But you stopped me. And now, I finally realize that Hydra was using me, trying to take away my humanity. I’m so sorry.”

You drew your mother back in for a hug, so that she wouldn’t see your eyes.

“[Y/n]!?” Another voice. Louder.

You turned out of Natasha’s grasp. “Alex!” You ran across the pavilion and leapt into your twin’s arms. The only person you really loved and had missed the past years.

The one that would be the hardest to kill.

“You had a hella strong grip back there at the tower.” They gingerly touched their neck that was mottled green and purple.

You winced, “Sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You couldn’t choke out the words. How could you? When you were planning to stab them in the back in just a few moments.

You turned in a circle, “Where’s father?”

Your mother and twin walked so that they stood side by side. Your twin wouldn’t meet your gaze, staring at the ground.

Your mother held out a hand, “You understand. The last time we saw you, you tried to kill Alex and threatened to kill us. When you called out of the blue, we were so happy but we also needed to be sure that you really wanted to come back, that Hydra wasn’t manipulating you.”

You cocked your head, dread growing in your mind as you processed what she was saying.

“He’s watching...isn’t he?” You turned to look up at the surrounding trees, already knowing that you wouldn’t spot him if he didn’t want to be spotted.

You needed to warn your squadron to draw back. If your father saw them, he would alert Natasha that something was up.

But you couldn’t act suspicious in front of the two in front of you.

“You understand? Right? We just...we love you so much, we want to make sure that you really do want to come back.”

You nodded slowly, taking a step back further into the shadows, “I understand. I guess...I just missed you all so much. I wanted to see you all...One...last…”

“It’s a trap!”

You whirled as your father jumped out a tree, Covered in blood, he had an arrow strung and pointed at you.

“[Y/n]?” Your twin raised their head and stared at you in horror.

You grinned, shrugging, “Sorry.”

And then you pulled your gun from where you had it hidden, “Fire!”

From the dozen men you had originally, only five emerged from the shadows. You guessed the blood on your father was from the other seven.

“Damn it [Y/n]!” Your mother cursed as she leapt atop one of your men.

You fired at her, as the soldier under her tried to dislodge her from his neck.

“We want to help you!”

You screamed at her in frustration, none of your bullets were hitting, “I don’t want your help! I want you dead!”

You changed your attention, switching to where your father stood back to back with your twin, shooting off arrows.

Two more men down. You were down to three.

“Just die! Leave me alone! I don’t want to think about you anymore! I don’t want to hurt!” Your vision was odd.

Had you been shot? Why was your vision so fuzzy and watery?

“[Y/n]! Do you really want to kill us? We love you! I love you!”

Suddenly, your twin was in front of you. You kept pulling the trigger, the sound of an empty clip, clicking in your mind.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.” Your twin spoke softly, wrapping their hands around yours.

Your arms were shaking. Your twin carefully took the gun from your hands and passed it over to where your father stood, silently, watching.

“It’s okay. It’s over. It’s over.”

Your legs gave out. And then you realized. You were crying.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. You’re home.”

Alex wrapped their arms around you and you sunk into their warmth. Burying your head in their shoulders, you released everything you had held in.

Sobs racked your body. The force causing you to gasp for breath as your tears soaked their shirt.

They murmured nonsensical words to you, a hand rubbing your back comfortingly.

“It’s okay. I’m here. I love you. It’s okay. You’re alright. We’ll be okay.”

The only witnesses to your weakness...Your twin, your mother, your father, and the night sky.

~~~~~~~~~

“In other news today, the once known member of the Avengers, [Y/n], otherwise known as War, who used to fight alongside their twin and parents, is now being released from the psychiatric facility where they have been detained for the past year.

As you may recall, [Y/n] Romanoff-Barton was behind the infamous Hydra world broadcast from Detroit over a year ago. Shortly after, they were apprehended by their former teammates and family members and brought back to New york. After intensive questioning and a trail before the UN, it was decided that [Y/n] Romanoff-Barton suffered from Borderline personality disorder and various dissociative states.

While still treated as a criminal of war, The parent’s of [Y/n], Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, along with the twin of the Hydra Commander, Alex Romanoff-Barton, vouched for their family member and actively worked with the UN to come to an agreement.

[Y/n] Romanoff-Barton has spent the past year in Sunny Villa Psychiatric center outside New York, getting help and working with multiple governments to stop Hydra by providing intel from their time in their ranks.

While it is unknown if [Y/n] Romanoff- Barton will ever take up their hero mantel of ‘War’ in the future, we do know that the Avengers are keeping them in their New York compound. Is that decision safe? Can they trust them after everything they have done? Are they a spy sent by Hydra? Is this all a trap? Only time will tell.

Next up on Midtown news-”

You jerked up when the TV suddenly shut off. Your twin stood there, white knuckle gripping the remote.

“You shouldn’t listen to them.”

You sighed, sagging further into the couch, “But they’re right to be judgmental. I brought a bunch of pain and horror during my time in Hydra. Italy is still dealing with the carnage I left.”

Alex sat down next to you on the couch, “That wasn’t really you though. You were ill and Hydra took advantage of that.”

You turned to your twin, seeing the soft smile on their face, the eyes that you saw everyday in the mirror, shining back at you.

“I just. I hurt a lot of people Alex. And I feel like I haven’t done enough to earn the trust you all have shown me. I mean.. I tried to kill you!”

Your twin laughed, “Multiple times.”

You smacked their shoulder, “I’m serious!”

Alex stopped laughing, a hand came up to grip your shoulder, “So am I. You were Ill, [Y/n]. And no one noticed. Not even your family. So we are just as much to blame. But blaming doesn’t do anyone any good. All we can do is move on and try to be a better person tomorrow.”

You chuckled softly, “Now you sound like my therapist.”

Another voice filled the room, “And how are those meetings going?”

You turned just in time to see your father vault over the back of the couch and land on the other side of you.

Both you and your twin laughed as you saw that your father had half a doughnut stuffed in his mouth, white powder covering most of his face.

You sighed, “It’s hard to talk about everything. But I think it’s helping me, talk about my childhood and what I felt growing up. And of course, after the therapy, I meet with Everett Ross to give them any information about Hydra that I can remember.”

“It’s done the world a lot of good to know their plans beforehand.”

All three of you turned to see Natasha walking into the room. Everyone was dressed casually, since your family had taken a leave from the Avengers after you had been released from the hospital.

“Hey Mom.” You waved.

She smiled at you as she sat down on the floor by your feet.

“So, what’s the game plan for today?”

You father jumped excitedly, “[Y/n] hasn’t seen Moana yet.”

You squinted in confusion at your father, “What the hell is a Moana?”

“[Y/n]! Language!” Alex laughed, hugging you to their side. “Turn it on Mom!”

You smiled as you listened to your family bicker and tease as they set up the TV to watch Moana.

It would be a long road till the world trusted you again. But you didn’t need to prove yourself to anyone anymore. You didn’t have to be strong. You didn’t have to be alone.

Because you had your family. And they loved you.

The True Savior, had been family.

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@jadepc

[sapphicsugden]

good morning (i love you) aaron/robert, liv, gerry (no seb mentions). five mornings with the mill fam.

one.

The shrill alarm cuts through Robert’s dreams and he groans, reaching out a hand to grab for his phone. He misses a couple of times, mumbling curses into the pillow. There’s a heavy arm across his back, and a face pressed into the juncture of his neck. Said face moans something incoherent, but Robert finally manages to silence the phone and groans, pressing his face into the pillow. 

“Don’t wanna get up,” Aaron says, arm shifting against Robert’s back as Aaron stretches. 

“Let’s not,” Robert breathes, turning his face towards Aaron. Aaron’s bleary eyed, but smiling, and he leans in, touches their foreheads together. 

It’s 6:30 and Robert knows they both have things to do; there’s a scrap run for Aaron, and an early meeting for Robert if he doesn’t want Home James to fold, and there’s the small matter of making sure Liv actually gets to school. 

Aaron runs a hand through Robert’s hair, thumb brushing against his temple. “When d’you get home today?”

Robert shifts closer, leans in to press a kiss to Aaron’s forehead, mindful of the fact that he’s just woken and hasn’t brushed his teeth yet. Aaron settles back against him, head on his chest and Robert appreciates the fluff of his hair, playing with the soft curls. “About five. Want me to cook dinner?”

“I’ll be late.” Aaron says with a sigh. He’s brushing his hand over Robert’s stomach, not enough to start anything, but a comfort nonetheless. “I’ll grab something on the way home.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Robert tells him, kissing the top of his head. “I’ll cook dinner and save yours.”

Aaron shifts back, looks at him with a ridiculous amount of fondness and love, and Robert wonders if his heart will ever not skip when he sees it. He hopes not. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Robert tells him, then rolls over, pinning Aaron beneath him with a grin. Aaron raises an eyebrow, smiles, but doesn’t make any move to shove him off. He shifts, aware of how close their bodies press together, wanting to start something and sure that they have just enough time. Even Aaron looks like he might be into it -

- when Liv starts thundering down the stairs, yelling for Gerry to get up. 

Robert groans, dropping his head down to the pillow beside Aaron’s head. Aaron brushes a hand through the hairs at the nape of Robert’s neck, and huffs out a laugh. “One day I’ll get morning sex.”

Aaron gives him that one, presses a kiss to Robert’s chin and shoves him away, climbing out of bed.  two.

“Where’s Rob?” Liv asks, dropping her school bag on the sofa. 

Aaron’s in the kitchen, throwing bacon into a pan, looking at ease with cooking despite how terrible he is at it. The table’s set for breakfast, but it looks suspiciously like Robert’s handiwork. Aaron looks back over his shoulder. “We’re out of ketchup.”

Liv makes a face as she slides into one of the chairs at the table. “Don’t know why he bothers. Doesn’t put enough on for it to matter.”

Aaron snorts. “He says the same about your brown stuff.”

“Whatever,” Liv mutters, and helps herself to some of the toast already on the table. She’s starving, and has enough time to wait for the bacon before she has to catch the bus. 

“Robert’s taking ya this morning,” Aaron reminds her, finally plating up the bacon and sliding it onto the table. He rounds Liv’s chair and yells, “Gerry!” up the stairs. “Says he has a meeting in Hotten anyway.”

Liv shrugs, never really minds driving in with Robert because he always lets her fiddle with the radio. “He better hurry up then.”

“I’m here,” Robert says, slamming the door and tossing his keys on the table by the door. “That smells good.”

Aaron throws him a smile and starts piling up the bacon between two slices of toast. 

“Uh,” Liv says, gesturing at him with her toast. “Save some for the rest of us, yeah?”

“Nice,” Gerry says, interrupting whatever Aaron was gonna say as he clambers down the stairs. Liv rolls her eyes as he barges past Robert and sits down next to her, grabbing at the bacon. 

“Charming,” Robert mutters, and takes a seat next to Aaron, shrugging out of his jacket and throwing it over the back of the chair. He leans over, drawing Aaron in for a kiss and Liv and Gerry share grossed out looks. “What?”

Liv shrugs, but can’t keep the grin from her face. “Putting me off my brekkie, ain’t ya?”

Gerry fakes puking, and Aaron throws a piece of crust at him. 

Robert doesn’t say anything, but he does meet Liv’s gaze and quirks his lips up. She complains all the time, but it’s like he knows she doesn’t mean it - that this is the closest to normal she’s ever had, and she wouldn’t give it up for anything. 

three.

“Where are we?” Aaron groans, stretching out as much as the passenger seat will allow. 

Robert flicks the indicator and slides into the fast line. The sun is just coming up over the horizon and he’s had to put his sunglasses on. “Somewhere outside of Béthune.”

The French countryside passes them by, and Aaron rests his head against the window, watching Robert from underneath his lashes. He doesn’t look tired even though he must be, barely snatching an hour or so in Dover while they waited for the train. 

“Want me to take over?”

Robert spares him a glance and a soft smile. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll sleep when we get there.”

“Spoilsport,” Liv mumbles from the back. She stretches, kicking Gerry in the shin as she does. He grunts but doesn’t wake up. “I wanna go to the park straight away.”

“You’re old enough to go by yourself,” Robert tells her, rolling his neck. 

Aaron meets Liv’s eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“S’not the same if you’re sleeping the holiday away,” Liv says eventually, curling up back in the seat, her eyes on the landscape outside. 

Robert’s face has gone all soft and sweet and Aaron can’t help the way his heart lurches when he looks at him. He’s happy and even spending the week with Liv and Gerry bickering every few hours isn’t enough to put him off this. 

It was Robert’s idea to take them to Disneyland, considering they couldn’t get to America, and though she’d said something about not being a kid, she’d been talking nonstop about it ever since. 

“How about I catch an hour or two, then I can just nap while you drag me around the stupid rides.”

“They’re not stupid,” Gerry chimes in. 

“You can’t nap on rides,” Liv snaps, just as incredulous. 

Aaron laughs at Robert’s expression, and he leans over, presses a kiss to Robert’s cheek. “You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot that just drove six hours to get you here, you ungrateful brats,” Robert says, without heat. 

Liv throws her pillow at the back of his chair to a chorus of, “driving!” but then she sticks her tongue out at Robert through the mirror. “Whatever. Have your nap while Gerry and I check out the hotel stuff. I’m sure we can find something to do.”

“Yeah,” Robert sighs. “Costing me a fortune no doubt.”

Aaron places a hand on Robert’s thigh, squeezing gently but not making anything out of it. Just a touch to ground them both. Liv and Gerry have started arguing in the back over what they’re going to have for breakfast when they finally arrive, and Aaron lets it wash over him, though he rubs his thumb over the seam of Robert’s jeans. “You love it really.”

Robert doesn’t say anything for a while, but he’s smiling so wide Aaron feels sorry for his face. “It isn’t terrible.”

Robert code for I’m so happy I could cry. 

Aaron’s embellishing a little, but the sentiment is the same. 

four.

“Rob-”

“Can’t, I’m late!” Rob yells as he thunders down the stairs.

Liv half wonders how anyone can run down that staircase, and whether or not he realises he’s supposed to be driving her and she’s already missed the bus. “You said you’d take me in to college.”

Robert stands in the middle of the living room, one arm in a sleeve, the rest of the jacket hanging off his shoulder. His face cycles through about fifteen different expressions before he settles on irritation. “Dammit. I really need to get to this meeting.”

“Aaron’s not here,” Liv says slowly, like he’s somehow forgotten. Not that she thinks he really has because he’s fifteen different kinds of snippy when Aaron’s not around, he cries about lonely he is (ok, so he mopes) and he always seems millions of miles away. At least it’s not prison levels of scary, so Liv takes it in her stride. 

“I know,” Robert snaps and then sighs, shrugging on the rest of his jacket. “Alright, eat your breakfast. I’ll call-”

“I can take her,” Gerry says, standing in the kitchen, munching on a piece of toast. 

Robert eyes him as if he’s going to drive eighty over the speed limit and kill her or something. Liv would roll her eyes, but Robert’s unhinged enough without adding her sass. Aaron being gone is always a minefield. 

“Aaron lets me drive the scrap van,” Gerry says, his hands held up in surrender. His toast is saturated in butter and half of it looks as if it’s about to topple over. 

“Fine,” Robert says, begrudgingly. “But if you hurt her-”

“Rob,” Liv snaps, actually rolling her eyes this time. “Stop threatenin’ him and get to work. Go mope somewhere else.”

“I don’t mope,” Robert protests, but he actually puts his jacket on and grabs his keys from the coffee table. “I’ll be back about four so I’ll make dinner tonight.”

Liv makes a mental note to get Aaron to call after dinner because otherwise Robert will be a Mess and getting him to do anything will be too much to handle. “Right. Go.”

Robert goes, and Liv looks at Gerry. 

Gerry is experiencing his first Aaronless Robert and she’s kind of fascinated with the emotions he’s been cycling through. “Honestly, if Aaron doesn’t come back soon-”

“He’ll learn to cope with it eventually.” Liv’s not entirely sure she believes herself, but part of her wants to stick up for Rob. He’s not all bad. Most of the time. 

“No offence,” Gerry says, around a mouthful of toast, and probably about to say something offensive. “I thought your brother was mental without Robert, but he’s summat else.”

Liv snorts. 

“Though,” Gerry continues, tossing the crusts in the bin. “Kinda nice to love someone that much one day though, right?”

“Gross,” Liv says, but she does kind of want it. Watching her brother and Robert in love is nauseating and heartwarming in equal measure. Still. “Come on, or I’ll be late.”

Liv shoots of a text to Aaron while she’s waiting for Gerry to start the van. day three in the mill house and robert is still pining away for aaron. liv hopes he’s not gonna call until after 6 because she’s starving and robert fails at life post phonecalls. 

Later, during her lunchbreak, she grins at Aaron’s response. Not my fault he’s a nutter and then fine, but only if you stop texting me like you’re on bloody big brother and later, just after she finishes for the day, never mind coming home tonight.

Liv makes a mental note to sleep downstairs with headphones and the tv on.

five.

“‘morning Mr. Sugden,” Robert says, pressing a line of kisses to Aaron’s neck. 

Aaron grins up at the ceiling, one hand twisted in Robert’s hair, the other brushing down the skin of Robert’s back. His ring glints in the sunlight streaming through their windows. He wonders if you can be too happy. “Mr. Dingle.”

Robert doesn’t comment on the way Aaron’s voice hitches, or the way his nails dig into Robert’s back as Robert rolls his hips, a slow thrust that only serves to send a shiver down Aaron’s back. 

“Rob,” Aaron bites out, heels digging into the mattress as Robert bites at the juncture of Aaron’s neck, teeth grazing the skin beneath his lips. “Come on.”

Robert says nothing, just breathes against Aaron’s skin, his fingers curled in Aaron’s hair, face hovering above his as he pulls back to look Aaron in the eye. “I love you.”

Aaron swallows once, twice, and lets out a soft groan as Robert thrusts again, adjusting the angle in the way he always does, just perfect and Aaron can’t breathe for a moment or two. Sound gives way to the feel of Robert’s skin on his, how full he feels, how easily Robert can make his body sing. 

This isn’t their first honeymoon, but it feels like the most important; Robert’s eyes are wet with emotion, his thumb brushing over Aaron’s cheekbone, his lips. Aaron doesn’t know how his chest can contain so much love, but it does, and he grips Robert’s back, urges him deeper, faster, and Robert obliges. He thrusts harder, breathless moans and words whispered in Aaron’s ear that Aaron doesn’t really hear, everything is just white noise because Robert’s brushing against his prostate and they’re married and Aaron can’t help but think of the endless moments they’ll have together after this because they’ve made it here, now, and Robert loves him and he loves Robert and -

Robert kisses him, hungry and wet and needy, and Aaron arches his back, yells Robert’s name as he comes, unashamed to be as loud and wanton as he wants. The sex has always been good, always, but when Robert presses a kiss to Aaron’s hand, his ring-finger, Aaron can’t help but pull him in, body oversensitive and shivering, but desperate for everything Robert wants to give. 

[amunetred]

“A little cuddling won’t kill you, I promise.” - Leorai ^_^

I don’t get many asks. So when I do, you will receive… an entire one shot.

A/N: T rating. I do not own TMNT. This fic takes place post the inevitable tragedy that will be the end of season 4. I listened to “Say you won’t let go” by James Arthur while writing this one shot.

The sun was setting in the west, swirling shades of yellow, pink, and peach. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and sighed. The air was sweet here, it had a clear, crisp scent, laced with something akin to fresh cut grass or maybe alfalfa. Perhaps both.

Her heart beat in slow painful licks against her rib cage, wet with tears she’d swore she wouldn’t shed. But it was hard. More than she expected. Worse than she’d prepared for. Inhale. Exhale. Just keep breathing. Sometimes that was all there was left to do. Now was one of those times.

A breeze lifted her hair, cooling her neck, carrying another fragrance, warm and slightly spicy, tinged with something unique to him. Whatever that was, the blend did something to her. She felt it in her jaw, could almost taste it on her tongue, it made her stomach flutter and her heart swell. And whether she liked it or not it made her feel safe. Not that she needed anyone looking out for her. She could handle herself.

But with her life stripped of everything that should be there, sometimes that scent, she wanted to cling to it. To him.

Her jaw shifted, her hands opening and closing in loose fists. Her eyes were blurry again. Her throat tight, the pressure building and she thought it might never end. She stared at the head stone, wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there.

It wasn’t fair. Nothing about her life was, but they say life isn’t. But this. To find her father and lose him. To learn the truth and try to make it right, for it to end like this…

How much was too much?

This was too much.

This…

Breathe.

Just.

Breathe.

And though the inhales came through like she was being choked, and the exhales emerged shaky, she managed them. He stood with her, a silent guard, mourning by her side. He was holding up well. Better than most though she suspected he hurt the worst. Everything would fall on him now.

He stepped closer, his arm brushed hers. The flicker of his skin, cool, pebbled, and green against hers, warm, smooth, and pink, that brief contact it lit a spark inside her. That fleeting, delicate, ghosting of flesh was like pressing play on a reel in her mind. One that drilled her with every fight, every save, every quest, from every quip to every threat. It had all been mutual, an intricate dance of steel and intuition. More than anything, with the cool brewing storm that was Leonardo came compassion, a deeper understanding, and gods… he brought her the truth and served it up hot. He brought her hope. He tried like hell to bring her home.

It was the end of a tragedy in some ways, perhaps the beginning of another if she didn’t change at least some of her ways. She was sure if this.

“Saki was never going to let it go. Just- just so your clear on that. This isn’t your fault.” His bicep brushed her, the closeness, the scent of him filled her senses, leaving her dizzy.

The hair on her skin rose and she crossed her arms, rubbing it away. “Words won’t change-” Her throat ached something horrible and she motioned to the headstone. “This.”

Her lip quivered and she bit it hard. It wasn’t enough. She couldn’t hold it down. Pressure built up inside her and she felt her jaw unhinge as a ragged sound broke free. “It’s not fair! It’s not fair! It’s not- fair! Leo, it’s not- I- just- got- him-back. I just- I just- found him.”

She didn’t know when she sank to the ground. The earth was hard, but it was him, those strong arms wrapped around her, they grounded her. He grounded her. One sob tumbled and fell into another, but amid one ragged gasp she heard a second cry, not her own. His plastron shuddered as he held her close, his head tucked in her hair, something wet dampening her shoulder.

She could barely cope with her own hurt. Feeling his too, it might break her.

Breathe.

Just.

Breathe.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Breathe.

Slowly, she reeled in her emotions. Or so she thought, until he quieted too. Now there was skin brushing skin everywhere, arms and legs and… faces… a beautiful inhuman green face that captivated her, that made sense to her, that cared and came for her time and again. His breath heated her throat, the sensation electric, her pulse quickly growing to a whoosh in her head, her lips throbbing as she lowered her chin. She inhaled, breathing him in, the familiar scent she could feel, but how, oh, how did he taste?

His eyes were closed, tears staining his cheeks, his grief it hurt and she had to take it, wanted to carry it for him. She reached for him, both of them trembling as her lips ghosted his, a gentle sweep, light and fragile like butterflies wings. But they weren’t delicate creatures, they were made of something hard and strong, but just as capable of fracture. They were warriors. They were heroes. He was her hero.

His hand wove through her hair, his eyes opened, a rich heart wrenching blue that brought fresh tears to her lashes. Their mouths met again and she dared taste him, her heart skipping beats at the sweetness of him. They kissed until they had to come up for breath, inhaling one another in the static haven they’d created.

Was this wrong? What were they doing? What was she doing? Falling apart, and making out like a schoolgirl. She sat up, pushing him back as her cheeks flushed with shame. “We shouldn’t be doing this here. Now.”

The sun had dipped below the horizon a strip of gold fading into the blue. She almost couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. Maybe that was love. When you couldn’t tell which way was up anymore. Because it didn’t really matter.

Leo sat up, bowing his head beside her. Probably scolding himself.

Were her feelings real or was it grief? Was she using him to feel something other than this agony?

When asking this of herself the answer came easy and without thought.

No.

Not in the slightest.

She wanted him.

She-

She looked at him, his eyes were closed again. The downturn of his mouth brought real pain to her, somewhere in the center of her chest that never seemed to stop hurting anymore.

The idea of his pain, made her own an afterthought. It quashed her pride, her ego, even her grief. Because they’d shared so much. The one being she understood and that understood her, fully and without doubt was right beside her.

She scooted closer, sat beside him and rubbed her face. “Sorry.”

He opened an eye and looked at her. “Excuse me?”

Her lip wrinkled in distaste as she shrugged off the icky feeling that stuck to apologies. “Don’t make me say it again.”

A small grin appeared, one she’d usually want to smack off him, but today she kinda wanted to kiss. Her gaze lingered on his lips too long and he reached out and pulled her to his side with one arm. “Come on, a little cuddling won’t kill you, I promise.”

Just beyond the blue of his mask a star fell. A bittersweet breeze ruffled her hair, carried his scent to her, and warmed her insides. She exhaled a shaky breath, lowering her head to his shoulder. Her heart was tender, battered and war torn, but so was his.

“I don’t cuddle,” she grumbled, snuggling closer to him.

“Of course not.” He placed a kiss on top of her head and her heart skipped beats.

She tipped back her head to look in those precious blues of his. “If you tell anyone, I will hurt you.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Heartbeats passed as they peered into one another’s eyes, both red rimmed and wet. Her reflection was mirrored in his pupils, equally tired and crushed yet hopeful and completely open. “I love you, Leonardo.”

His breath hitched, and the arms he held her in began to tremble. His brow furrowed as his mouth drifted closer and she met him halfway. He kissed her long, and tender beyond anything either of them were made for. When at last it ended, the moon was high, but so was she. He pulled her close and she wrapped his arms tighter around her.

Crickets and cicadas chirped, frogs were croaking, but she closed her eyes and felt him breathing. Where he was there was peace, quiet, her calm in any storm. Then came a whisper, his assurance, his promise, his truth and she felt it through her entire body, mind, and soul. “I love you too, Karai.”

[marauderingbad-blog]

One Was Gold

A Chronology of Lily and Severus’ Friendship: Year Three

Part 4/7

Read the Full Story on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11690688/chapters/26319129

Snow was falling in clumps that littered Severus’ black cloak with icy flakes. He didn’t mind the cold very much, though. What he did mind was the abundance of human bodies crowding the narrow streets and shops of Hogsmeade. There was only a week left until the Christmas holiday and so the village was packed and peppered with extra exhilaration.

Severus stood in front of Honeydukes' showcase window wearing an irritated scowl. He was hoping to enter and purchase Lily a small christmas gift with the limited funds he possessed, but the shop had been so crowded that all he could do was bounce about from body to body. Plus, Potter and Black had barged their way in, and confronting them was sour enough when they weren’t basically on top of one another. He left the shop unaccomplished.

Mulciber and Avery eventually climbed their way out from the store with their arms filled with assorted candies and treats. They had even begun to shovel handfuls of peppermint toads and Bertie Bott’s beans down their throats.

Severus eyed them with both humor and envy. He couldn’t fathom having the kind of gold that could allow you to indulge in such gluttony. He couldn’t help but laugh, though.

“Have you two bought out the store?” he sniggered.

“Not yet,” Avery grinned. “But I’m close to getting my dad to negotiate the deeds with the owner.”

“I’m sure,” Severus smirked.

Avery dipped into his rucksack of sweets and dumped a few boxes of chocolate frogs into Severus’ palm.

“For your secret girlfriend,” Avery snickered.

Severus glanced down at the chocolate before meeting Avery with with a raised brow.

“I don’t have a secret girlfriend,” he replied firmly.

“Sure you don’t. You’ll just be disappearing off to yet another Slug Club meeting tonight, eh?” Mulciber chimed in.

Severus pocketed the candy in his cloak and left his hands there to keep warm. He had kept his word to Lily this term. At least once each week he dedicated a night to spend with her. It also helped that the two actually were in the Slug Club, which gave them extra time together. Severus had to admit he had been growing sloppy with his excuses for his absences, but he had been so happy being with Lily. He had even been starting to wonder if it were at all possible that she was starting to see him as more than a friend. Stranger things have happened, after all.

“Let’s get out of here. I can’t stand it so packed.”

Severus led them through the crowds of the windy narrow streets back towards the image of Hogwarts, which at such a distance appeared almost completely shrouded in white. All the while he wore a small, happy expression as he replayed those words, secret girlfriend in his mind attached to Lily’s face. They weren’t kids anymore...Severus and Lily would turn fifteen the next month--and they were both spending the christmas holiday at Hogwarts this year. Perhaps things could change…

He had been so lost in his imagination that he failed to notice the small blonde girl walking in the snow just a bit in the distance. They had exited the village by now and had made it to the outskirts of the grounds. The snowfall had picked up, and brought with it a howling wind.

“Oi!” Mulciber called out, pointing to the figure. “Isn’t that one of the Gryffindor mudbloods?”

Avery peered ahead as Mulciber called out, “McKinnon,” he identified. “Half-blood, but just barely,” he snarled. “Her father is on the Wizengamot, he’s a mudblood and a loud-mouth, doesn’t know his place.”

As if that decided it, Mulciber bent down and made a snowball--then he murmured a spell to harden it and used all the strength and aim he’d gained as a chaser to launch it at Marlene’s head.

With her guard completely down, oblivious to the boys watching her, the snowball took Marlene unaware and collided with her right eye. The impact knocked her clear off her feet and the air left her lungs entirely as she landed painfully on her side.

“What the fuck?” she cursed, panic rising as she tried to open her eye, then touched her fingers gingerly to her eyelids to find that they were already swelling shut. It occurred to her that who’d ever done it was probably still in the vicinity--normally, Sirius and James were the ones who initiated impromptu snowball fights, but she knew from the viciousness of the hit that it hadn’t been them. If they’d hit her in the eye by mistake, they’d already be running over and apologizing, not cackling.

Marlene spun around in the direction of male voices laughing loudly, her wand now out and pointed. She felt her stomach drop as she saw it was Mulciber’s Slytherin gang.

“What are you lot on about?” Marlene yelled over, trying to sound tough, but it wasn’t so easy with her right eye swollen shut and a tear running down her left cheek from the pain.

Severus witnessed this scene play out with white horror on his face. Lily was friendly with most people at Hogwarts by now, but Marlene was one of her closest friends. Really, they could have picked almost anyone else in the school and this would have been fine--possibly even humorous.

“You idiot!” Severus called out suddenly, turning to Mulciber with a relentless glare.

Avery suddenly stopped laughing and watched Severus with confusion. “What are you going on about, Snape? She’s a half-blood and a bloody Gryffindor…” he said with astonishment.

Severus turned to Avery with the same glower. “SHE’S LILY’S FRIEND!” he burst out suddenly at both of them. Immediately he regretted this when he saw the blank looks on Avery and Mulciber’s faces. “...Which means she’ll go to Dumbledore,” he hastily added, looking away with embarrassment at his impetuousness.

Mulciber shrugged indifferently. “Let her. Dumbledore’s a crackpot old fool, let him try and expel me,” he sneered, then turned back on Marlene.

He took four long strides towards her without saying anything at all--Marlene fought the urge to step backwards as she stood her ground, lifting her chin slightly in a look that she hoped was defiant.

“Tell your father that if he doesn’t want something like this happening to his daughter again, he’ll shut his Godric-damned mouth,” Mulciber said, raising his wand. “Or better yet, resign...there’s no place for filthy, half-witted mudbloods in our government.”

Marlene gasped, her wand now shaking furiously, “Loco-” she began to say, but Mulciber swiftly beat her to it, muttering something as he sent a stinging jinx right at her face, then blasted her backwards with another swift "Impedimenta!"

“Nice one, Mulciber,” Avery smirked.

Marlene landed hard in the snow, painful welts cropping up all over her face, blinding her completely as one sprouted over her left eye. She moaned from the pain to the back of her head, unthinkingly touched her face to assess the damage, only to find the welts hurt worse at the touch.

“That should teach her, and hopefully her rotten father as well,” Mulciber said indifferently. “Let’s go.”

Severus stared down at struggling Marlene with vacant alarm. She needed to be taken to the hospital wing. This was Lily’s friend...she needed help. Without a second thought, he crouched down adjacent to her.

“Don’t--Don’t use your hand...The snow...it’ll hel--”

“SEVERUS. Hurry the bloody hell up!” Avery boomed as the two began to run through the snow back towards the castle.

Severus found himself standing up. He didn’t understand why it was happening...he needed to help Lily’s friend. The antidote was simple...but he needed to take her to the hospital wing…

Although his mind was screaming to stay, his body was already taking him away from Marlene. He grabbed her wand quickly from the snow and shot off red sparks high up into the air just above her. Then, Severus gave Marlene one long apologetic look.

“I’m sorry…” he uttered breathlessly before turning around completely and running away in his friends’ wake.

~~*~~

James was trying to walk and toss pepper imps into Peter and Sirius’ open, willing mouths at the same time, bumping into people as they tried to catch the flying candy--they failed more often than not, leaving a trail of fallen imps that fizzled and let off little puffs of steam as they landed in the snow.

Remus, evidently, was too dignified for this, though he wasn’t too dignified to laugh at the display.

When Peter caught one, smoke emerging from his ears and nose as the mint candy hit his tongue, James let out a triumphant “whoop!” and highfived him.

“Alright, satisfied now?” asked Remus with an amused grin.

“Hardly,” James said, ripping open another imp and tossing the candy in their air. “I’m practicing off-pitch, don’t you know? Shacklebolt is going to love it when he hears.”

“I highly doubt Kingsley is going to love this,” Remus countered with a smirk.

James was just about to toss the pepper imp over at Sirius when a burst of red sparks in the distance caught his eye.

“Ooooh,” he said, looking up. “Wonder what’s going on over there…”

Sirius’ jaw was still unhinged and tongue outstretched, anticipating the throw when he, too, observed the sparks.

“Dunno, I thought that only happens when Remus lets one rip,” Sirius replied, shooting Remus a rapid smirk, to which Remus rolled his eyes.

Peter, meanwhile, gaped at the sparks with a far more serious expression. “Red means trouble! My mum taught me to do that if I’m ever assaulted!” he squeaked.

Sirius snorted at Peter. “Honestly, Pete, who would ever assault you. And you don’t need sparks, all you’d have to do is sit on them.”

Peter ignored Sirius and tugged on James’ jumper. “I mean it, James, sincerely! Red means trouble!”

James regarded the sparks wearily--red meaning trouble sounded about right, he had to admit.

“Alright, well, let’s go have a look,” he said. “Even if it’s just a laugh, it’s probably some place we want to be,” James reasoned, and tossed Sirius the last pepper imp.

Sirius dove for the imp, tumbling into a pile of snow. He emerged cheering with a toothy grin as steam erupted from his ears and nostrils.

They then began to head off towards the sparks. Sirius had taken up the lead, his interest peaked by the investigation. Peter sulked a bit behind. He hadn’t realized that bringing the danger to his friends' attention would make them head towards the danger rather than away from it. Though, he really should have expected that one by now.

The boys made it just outside of the village when they found the source of the sparks. A crumpled body lay writhing in the snow just ahead. A Gryffindor scarf was vibrantly visible in the snow.

Sirius’ intrigue instantaneously hardened into alarm when he absorbed the shape before them.

“What the…” he began, meeting James with a disconcerting stare. “...That’s a student!”

James frowned, his brow furrowed deeply as he met Sirius’ look. He took a step closer, as Remus knelt down in the snow next to the girl. James kneeled beside him.

The girl’s face was so swollen and covered in welts, it was hard at first to tell who it even might be.

Remus peered a little closer, then turned back suddenly to look at his friends. “I think it’s Marlene,” he said.

James started and jumped back to his feet--for a terrifying moment, he watched as Marlene stopped moving, and he thought she might be dead--her face was so bloated and puffy, she looked like she’d drowned and washed ashore.

But then, Marlene let out a whimper.

“What happened to her?” Remus asked quietly, his eyes still wide from the shock.

James shook his head, “It looks like dark magic, whatever it was was clearly violent. I don't know a spell that could've done that,” he said grimly.

“Don’t worry, Marly. It’s James and Remus and Sirius and Peter. We’re going to get you help,” James assured her, snapping back to his senses. He pointed his wand at her and murmured, “Wingardium Leviosa,” and she floated up easily. Marlene kicked her legs limply, as if resisting the magic. James kept his wand trained on her so that she didn’t float too high up.

“Grab her arms to steady her,” he instructed. “Then let’s go.”

Remus nodded, wrapping one of Marlene’s arms around his neck and holding it against his shoulder as she floated beside him.

Sirius rested Marlene’s free arm around his shoulder and held her lame wrist in his hand. He surveyed her injuries with a grave expression as they began to trudge through the snow.

“I’ve heard of dark jinxes like this. My cousin Bellatrix would go on and on about them. Never heard of her actually using one on a student at school, though--and she’s a maniacal loon.”

He turned his stare to James. “You know who did this.”

James followed at a brisk pace behind them, keeping the spell on Marlene. He glanced away from his wand for only a second, expression livid as he met Sirius’ eye.

“Snape, most definitely,” he agreed, looking away as he turned his focus back to his wand work and keeping Marlene steady and afloat. Snape and his whole lot were dark arts fanatics, and as much as James despised them, he had to admit it would take someone pretty skilled at jinxes and magic in general to do a thing like this. Snape easily fit that criteria.

“Why Marlene, though?” James asked angrily. “She doesn’t give them shite,” he said, shaking his head. “Those bloody jerks probably just wanted someone to try it on.”

“I grew up knowing loads like Snape,” Sirius explained darkly as they approached the main entrance of the castle. He reached into his back pocket to retrieve his wand then flicked it towards the door, which made it burst open.

“Blood is their excuse for everything.”

~~*~~

Lily was frantic as she made her way through the hallway towards the Gryffindor common room, Mary and Dorcas walking swiftly at her sides. Marlene had never made it to the Three Broomsticks where they were all supposed to meet for lunch; this in and of itself wouldn’t have been so alarming, but Lily had heard rumors earlier that Black and Lupin and the rest had carried a girl back to the castle who was so badly jinxed or hexed as to look unrecognizable. She couldn’t be sure it was Marlene, but she had a sickening feeling that it was.

Tumbling out of the portrait hole, Lily was met with a somber common room. Potter was there with the rest of his crew, but he was also surrounded by several members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Kingsley Shacklebolt looking both grave and angry at once.

“What’s happened?” Lily asked, looking between Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew. “Is it Marlene? Tell me you didn’t do something ridiculous.”

“Evans…” James said sympathetically, knowing she didn’t yet realize the severity of the spell. “This wasn’t us. We’d never do something like that to Marlene, she’s my friend and teammate, too,” he said, taking a breath. “It was dark magic.”

Dorcas covered her mouth with her hands.

“Is she okay?” asked Mary. “Who did it? It wasn’t...one of those Death Eaters, was it?”

Remus had stood up from his seat on the couch the moment the girls walked in. He frowned as he looked to Mary, Dorcas and Lily. His gaze steadied on Lily.

“She’s in the hospital wing now. Madam Pomfrey said she’s going to be alright,” he explained firmy to all three. “And we don’t know with certainty who cast the jinx yet--”

“Yes we do!” Sirius suddenly spat as he jumped up from his armchair by the fire. The entire common room (including the lion portrait on the mantle) all turned to watch him.

Sirius approached Lily with his arms crossed. “We all know who is best at hexes and jinxes in the school. And who would target a Gryffindor girl with some muggle lineage,”

“Sirius…” Remus frowned, attempting to interject.

“It was Snape,” he finished sternly.

“It was not Severus,” Lily said hotly.

Mary and Dorcas exchanged a glance behind Lily’s back--they didn’t look so convinced.

“Lily…” Dorcas began tentatively. “He does fancy the dark arts.”

“It. Wasn’t. Severus,” Lily insisted through gritted teeth.

“How can you know that?” demanded James.

“How can you?” Lily spat right back.

“Alright, settle down you lot,” Kingsley said in his firmest Quidditch captain voice. “Whoever did this will be found out soon enough, and they will face the consequences,” he said, then cast a pointed look at James and Sirius, “From Dumbledore,” clarified Kingsley. “It’s not up to any of you to play auror.” He turned to this rest of his team for support--they offered some half-hearted nods as if they weren’t quite on board with the let-the-adults-figure-it-out plan.

“Yeah, alright,” said James in a tone that plainly said he wasn’t actually on board at all. Kingsley glared.

Sirius gave Kingsley an unforgiving glare of his own before he stormed out of the common room and disappeared up the spiral staircase to the boy’s dormitory. The sound of a door slamming was heard moments after.

Remus sighed and turned back to Lily, Dorcas, and Mary. “Madam Pomfrey says you can visit her in the morning. She’s going to be okay,” he assured them.

Lily’s jaw tensed as Sirius stormed upstairs. She leveled a look at Potter that could make even a grown man cower.

“Don’t make this worse,” she told him fiercely, then headed up to her own dorm with her friends behind her.

“James,” said Remus imploringly, but more gently than Lily had. He shook his head in response. Remus could tell just from his look that this wasn’t the end of it. He followed James upstairs, with Peter trailing behind them. Remus was sure he and Sirius would start plotting tonight, and he’d try to stop them, but Remus didn’t expect that he’d succeed.

~~*~~

Lily, Mary, and Dorcas were up at the crack of dawn--none of them had slept very well, not with Marlene’s bed empty. The girls dressed and killed some time in the common room, staring gloomily into the fire as they waited for the clock to strike an hour they thought Madame Pomfrey would deem acceptable. They settled on seven-fifteen, then headed out.

None of them spoke as they made their way to the Hospital Wing--they were too tired and raw from a long night of worry, frustration, and anger to talk.

Once they entered the Hospital Wing, they could see that Madame Pomfrey looked much the same. Her face was grave and pale, as if she hadn’t slept well herself. Madame Pomfrey had seen no shortage of gruesome injuries in her tenure at Hogwarts--mainly from the barbaric sport of Quidditch, though. She’d rarely seen a student do something so vicious to another student. Madame Pomfrey had noticed with more than a little bit of alarm that attacks on students by other students seemed to be on the rise ever since the creed and deeds of the Death Eaters and their infamous leader had made their way into the public consciousness--the students were channeling this violence and division into their own lives, Pomfrey thought.

“Ms. Evans, Macdonald, Meadowes,” she said by way of greeting. “I trust you’re here to see Ms. McKinnon?” asked Madame Pomfrey.

The girls nodded.

“I’ve just administered a potion, so she’s up, but she very badly needs rest. I’ll give you a few minutes, though,” she said.

“Thank you, Madame Pomfrey,” Dorcas said, and the girls made their way over to Marlene’s bed as Madame Pomfrey pulled the curtains back.

Lily was shocked by what she saw, and this was actually an improvement from the state she’d been in originally. There were still some welts and swelling across Marlene’s face, but it’d gone down considerably overnight.

“Marlene,” Lily said, her voice tight. She sat down in the chair beside her friend and took her hand.

Marlene’s eyes welled with tears when she saw her three best friends approach her. She quickly blotted her eyes gently with a soft towel before the tears could further irritate her skin.

“It’s much better now..” she assured them, though her voice was shaky. “Madam Pomfrey says the swelling will go down in a day or so. And it mostly doesn’t hurt anymore,” Despite the trauma of her injuries, Marlene was much more concerned about assuaging her friends' anxieties.

“I hope you all weren’t too worried--I’m fine, really,” Marlene explained, but couldn’t quite meet the girls’ eyes as she spoke.

Dorcas tossed her braids over her left shoulder so that they wouldn’t brush Marlene’s face, then wrapped her firmly into an embrace.

“We’re so glad you’re okay,” she told her, then pulled back. The three girls looked between one another carefully--none of them quite wanted to upset Marlene by having to relive what happened, but it seemed important to know the truth.

“What happened, Marlene?” Lily finally asked, cautiously.

Marlene’s expression grew a bit weary at the question but she nodded.

“My head's gone foggy…” she explained with a slight frown. “I remember leaving the castle to meet you three...and the next thing I remember is Potter and Black standing over me in here.”

Marlene looked off into the distance as she poured through her available memory. “I think I remember something else though…” she uttered quietly.

“I remember a voice, someone talking to me. They were scared--maybe trying to help me. I think...”

She turned, looking right at Lily now. “...I think it was Severus.”

Lily didn’t know whether to feel relieved or horrified--she settled on feeling both simultaneously. For Marlene to confirm that Severus was there at all made her feel sick--how could he allow this to happen? But then, if he really was helping her...maybe he’d just gone to get a professor. Maybe he hadn’t just left Marlene there.

“Well…” Lily began uncertainly, feeling Dorcas and Mary’s gazes upon her. “I’ll talk to him. We have to figure out who did it,” she resolved. “Whoever did this can’t just get away with it.”

“I’m sorry, Lily,” Marlene frowned, she knew how much Severus meant to Lily--they all did. Even though Marlene, Dorcas and Mary were always wary of him, none of them wanted Lily to be hurt.

“I’m sure he left for a good reason…” she added.

~~*~~

Lily couldn’t get Marlene’s revelation off her mind. She knew the day would be wasted until she could speak with Severus, so after Madame Pomfrey had shooed them away, Lily ate a half-hearted breakfast with Mary and Dorcas, then set off to find Severus.

Just like when they were back home at Cokeworth, Lily usually knew where to find Severus when she needed him. It was a quiet Sunday morning, and it would be even quieter in the library as the rest of the student body had already slumped into the winter break stupor, forsaking their studies for long lie-ins in bed or snowball fights out on the grounds. An empty library was, perhaps, Severus’ favorite spot in all of Hogwarts.

As she entered the library, she found it just as she expected--there wasn’t a soul around apart from Madame Pince, who guarded over the empty stacks like a sentry nonetheless. Lily softened her tread so as to not disturb the librarian.

The library had a blue-ish, wintry tint as the morning sun bounced off the snow and cast a glow through the tall windows.

Lily walked deeper into the library, knowing she wouldn’t find him right up front; surely enough, she found him at a table near the partition of the forbidden section.

“Severus,” Lily said urgently, standing beside him. “We need to talk.”

The incident with Marlene had lasted mere minutes and yet each moment, each detail had been spinning in Severus’ mind since the very instant he left her behind. His shame over leaving Marlene had refused to let up, even after he heard that she had been found and brought to the hospital wing shortly after his departure.

Nevertheless, in abandoning Marlene, Severus had made his decision. It was a cowardly one, which he had to admit, but he was now committed to it. And besides, the girl was going to be fine. He was familiar with the jinx and knew that the symptoms were treated early enough so that there would be no residual scarring.

Severus looked up from his Numerology and Gramatica text and faced Lily, expressionless.

“Yes, I’m sure we do,” he replied calmly, gesturing to the chair beside him. “I was sorry to hear about Marlene. How is she?”

Lily remained standing. She was taken aback slightly by the blank stare and how he seemed to know precisely what it was that she wanted to talk about. Then again, Lily supposed he would have to know.

“She’s doing better. Healing,” she said, not quite meeting Severus’ eye. Lily paused for a moment, bracing herself for what she had to ask him, and the fact that she might not like the answer.

“Marlene said you were there,” Lily told him. “She said she thought you might’ve been trying to help,” she clarified. “If you were there, you must have seen who did it,” Lily pointed out. She didn’t quite accuse Mulciber outright, but she thought it was fairly likely it was him. There was Avery and Wilkes, too, but she didn’t think either of them capable of the type of magic used against Marlene.

Severus managed to suppress the alarm in his countenance when Lily told him that Marlene remembered him. He sniffed to give himself a moment to gather his thoughts. Many jinxes and hexes cause disorientation, and clearly Marlene had suffered severe memory loss. There was no sound evidence in a muddied memory.

“I wasn’t there, Lily,” he explained firmly with a frown, using his ability to mask his emotions against her. “Dark jinxes like hers often cause confusion and memory loss. I was in the village getting you a Christmas present, actually.”

Lily frowned, clearly still uncertain--she wasn’t sure to feel guilty for accusing Severus of something when he was getting her a gift...or if she should stand her ground, because she frankly wasn’t quite sure that he was telling the truth that he wasn’t there.

“It was the only thing she remembered,” said Lily. “I’d prefer that you tell me the truth--maybe you are--but Marlene said you were trying to help her. I’d like to know the rest of the circumstances, though” she said. “Where was Mulciber, for instance?” Lily asked, arching an eyebrow. “Not many students are capable of that type of magic.”

Severus sighed quietly. This was really stretching the limits of his loyalty to Mulciber. He really couldn’t stand lying to Lily, especially over something that had outraged him. Honestly, he just wished he could apologize to her for being a coward--but he felt it was too late for that now.

“He was with me.. I’m sorry, Lily.” His frown deepened. “I wish I could help.”

“Well, I sure hope they figure out who did it,” Lily said, folding her arms over her chest. “Because you’ve heard that Potter and Black found Marlene, right?” she asked. “They’re hell bent that you did it, of course. Black stormed up to their dormitory that very night with Potter close behind, they’re probably already plotting.”

Lily leaned in close to Severus, locking eyes with him. “I am unwaveringly, whole-heartedly positive you didn’t do this, and I told Black and Potter that in front of virtually all of Gryffindor,” she told him. “But I am not positive that Mulciber didn’t do it. If you tell those two, or let me tell them, they’ll redirect to him, I’m sure of it.” Lily leaned back. She felt vaguely uncomfortable--this felt an awful lot like blackmail, but it was true. Black and Potter were going to come after him for something she was sure Severus didn’t do...even if he was, perhaps, a bystander.

Severus kept Lily’s stare, even though he really just wanted to escape into his book. His anxiety slipped through his stoic demeanor when Lily revealed that he was on Potter and Black’s hit-list. It wasn’t surprising, all things considered, but he had no desire for that kind of attention from those two.

He swallowed hard and slid his quill nervously between his fingers.

“Tell them I said that If they’re looking for the truth they might want to have a chat with Mulciber,” he suggested, looking miserable. “But they will keep my name out of this.”

Lily finally slumped into the seat across from Severus, still watching him carefully. “I’ll tell them, and I’ll try to get them to back off on you. Maybe Marlene will tell them she thinks you tried to help,” she said. Lily pressed her forehead into the heels of her palms. She just sat like that for a moment, letting her hands carry the weight of both her head and her thoughts inside of it. She was exhausted--Lily had barely slept since the night before, sick with worry for Marlene.

“Did you help?” Lily asked again, thinking perhaps that Severus might be more inclined to honesty now.

Severus’ eyes flashed with irritation at Lily’s question. “I’ve told you too much already,” he spat bitterly before abruptly standing up. He violently shoved his belongings into his bag and gathered his books in his arm. After taking a few steps away from Lily, he stopped.

Lily practically launched herself around in her chair; I’ve told you too much already. What was that supposed to mean? Lily’s mouth was open, ready to pose that very question, her face twisted in indignation--then, Severus continued.

With his back towards her, he frowned--tears gathered in his eyes. “I didn’t do enough,” he admitted with despair before he disappeared behind the sea of bookshelves.

Severus was gone before Lily even had a moment to gather her thoughts. He’d all but admitted it to her. Lily turned back around in her seat to face the table again, then she quite simply lowered her forehead to the wood, her arms still lying limply in her lap.

She didn’t know whether to feel relieved that Severus had at least helped, or furious that he’d let it happen at all--and above all, she didn’t know if maybe Severus was right and he hadn’t done enough. How ever he’d helped Marlene, he didn’t pick her up and carry her back to the castle. He’d left that for someone else to do, and left Marlene in the snow in the meanwhile. Still, Lily knew she’d defend him from Potter and Black, anyway. She knew she’d try to get Marlene to talk to them, too, and Lily also knew that Marlene would probably do it.

Lily turned her head so that her cheek was now resting on the table--another thing she knew was that she was very, very tired.