#Sam sobs harder knowing it won’t happen this time

[rotworld]

8: Possession

the demon possessing you bites off more than it can chew.

->explicit. contains dubcon, gore, mild/vague religious themes, size difference, body horror

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By the time you get home, it’s already inside of you. Laughing. Taunting you. You feel it like a wet, ravenous tongue wriggling around in your brain, tasting your fear. You can’t hold a thought, can’t focus. So much wrongness. The sensation of it there—in you, wearing you like a second skin, like a snug coat, its hands in your hands and around them, within and without, crunched up inside yet encompassing, eclipsing you—that’s all there is. Its shape and an awful, squirming thing that squishes and grinds against you. You want to throw up but it won’t let you. Some it might come out, and we can’t have that, it snickers, no no no we simply cannot have that!

“Who do you love, you poor creature, you delicious little thing?” you hear yourself saying. Your voice, but not your words. One corner of your lips arcs into a smirk. “Ohhh, he’ll be home soon? Well, that’s lovely. Will we greet him? Will we eat his heart out, you and I?” It stifles a helpless cry inside of you, not even allowing you your own despair. It knows. It reads your mind—peels it open, sticks it fingers inside—and now it knows about Sam. 

Your boyfriend is volunteering at the animal shelter but he’ll be back soon, smiling and covered in fur. He’ll want to show you pictures of tiny kittens nesting in his jacket and nibbling on his fingers. He’s not a big guy, not the strong or tough-looking type with his slight build and dusting of freckles across his nose and beneath the circular frames of his glasses. Sweet. Gentle. Couldn’t hurt a fly. If you came at him with a knife, would he even defend himself? The thing inside you savors your cold, creeping dread.

“Don’t hurt him,” you beg it. A laugh forces its way out of your throat. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just don’t—”

“Aaaaanything?” it speaks through you. A delirious sort of glee overtakes you, its sadistic delight infectious. “Do you mean that? Do you really, really mean that?” You mean it. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod. You can feel it rumbling in your chest, purring like a cat. “Can you tear yourself open? Spill your guts on the floor? No? But you said aaaaanything. I heard you. I heard you!”

You can’t remember how this happened, how you—how it—your head hurts. Can’t move right. You have to fight it for every step, every muscle contraction and movement. And every time you push, it pushes back harder. It pinches your lungs and strangles your heart. It wants a knife, a box cutter, a letter opener—something sharp. You won’t let it. The tug-of-war over your own body sends you stumbling. You hit the kitchen floor and curl up on your side, clutching your head. You feel the demon in your skin, the malice and greed in its touch. 

And then you hear the clatter and click of the front door unlocking, the creak of it opening. You hear Sam humming a cute little song under his breath as he takes off his shoes. The demon throws you to your feet and you’re fumbling for a steak knife, trying to drop it, trying to stop your fingers from curling around the handle. “Babe, are you home?” Sam says. 

“Sam—!” Your throat constricts. That strangled cry of his name is all you can squeeze out. And he’s worried, of course, he’s calling your name softly and you hear his footsteps padding across the living room. You beg the demon to stop. You offer yourself. You’ll do whatever it wants, just not this, anything but this. Its laughter echoes in your head. Sam finds you hunched over the kitchen counter, trembling with silent sobs.

“Oh, honey,” he says, expression warm and gentle. “What’s wrong? You should’ve called me, I would’ve been home sooner.”

“Sam,” you whimper. That’s all the creature wearing your body will let you say. You try to warn him, try to tell him to go, to call for help, don’t come any closer, but your mouth gapes soundlessly. “Please hold me,” you hear yourself say. Inside, you’re screaming. You thrash against chains you can’t see, a thousand hands holding you down. The knife shakes in your hand. Sam has to see it. He has to know something’s really, really wrong. But he crosses the distance in a few quick strides without hesitation, without question, and wraps you in his arms. 

Watching it all happen with cruel, deliberate slowness is agony. Sam kisses your forehead. He soothes you, tells you it’s alright, he’s here, everything’s going to be okay. You clutch his shirt with one hand to bring him close. Right into the knife. Over and over and over again.

The first stab is almost soundless. There’s a solid thunk as the blade slides home, the soft shredding of his shirt. Sam makes a startled sound, too shocked to scream. The demon pulls the knife out and then rams it back in, like it’s fucking him, churning his guts, and every awful, harsh thrust makes wetter, nastier sounds. The wound is wet and sucking around the blade and you hear blood splattering, feel it dribbling warm across your feet.

“Welcome home, darling,” the demon purrs through you. “I missed you soooo much, I never want you to leave again!”

It gives you some control again, enough to drop the knife and start screaming. Sam crumples without the demon’s strength to hold him up, clutching his gored stomach with painful wheezes. You want to hold him but you’re afraid you’ll do something else, something worse, and throw yourself back, clutching the counter again.

“Worse?” the demon says, cackling. “You already killed him. Ohhhhh, but why stop there? We have time until he slips away, don’t we? What else could we do?” You scream at it. You curse it. You beg it to leave you alone, let you mourn, at least. But it’s already sliding back into the forefront of your mind and taking control again, steadying the tremor in your hands. “We can’t stop now, you tasty little thing. We’ve got so much more to do!”

“Sweetheart?” Sam rasps. Blood trickles from his lips. “Are you…possessed? Is that what’s happening?” 

The demon laughs. “Are you God-fearing, boy?” it asks, making your lips twist into a smirk. “You know less than you think. I’m going to fuck your lover’s soul right here, in front of you. They’ve never screamed for you the way they’ll scream for me.”

Sam smiles. He moves his bloodied hand to your face, stroking your cheek with aching tenderness. “Darling,” he says, “I’m so excited.”

You feel a constant feedback of shock and confusion, yours and the demon’s. Did you hear him right? Did he say he’s excited? The demon recovers first. Bravado, it thinks. You hear the uncharitable things it thinks about Sam and you’re angry on his behalf, but neither of you gets the chance to say anything. Sam pulls himself to his feet with hardly more than a grunt. The hand on his stomach moves away. The bleeding’s already stopped. The wound is closed, the glistening peek of entrails hidden behind smooth, unmarred skin. You feel the demon rearing back, hissing. “What—what the fuck?”

Suddenly, the tables are turned. Sam corners you against the counter and he’s kissing you breathless, tugging urgently at your clothes. “Baby,” he murmurs, speaking between moans and little nips at your lips, “it’s alright. You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to this. I’ll take care of everything. You just sit back and relax, okay?”

Did the demon get into him somehow? No, you still feel it. It’s in your head but it’s squirming, moving restlessly, never settling in one spot for too long. Watcher. The word comes to you somehow. It feels like a curse, a thin, hoarse whisper. The demon is in your hands again, trying to push Sam away. “I relinquish control,” it says suddenly. Your voice quivers in its grasp and feel yourself breaking out in a cold sweat. It’s terrified. “I admit defeat. You’ve humbled me. I won’t come back here ever again, I swear—” 

Sam grabs your wrists and he squeezes so hard you’re afraid he’ll break them. The smile never leaves his face but his eyes are cold and hateful. You’ve never seen him look like this. You’ve never heard him speak with such cruel condescension before. “I wasn’t talking to you, you disgusting, worthless waste of creation.”

And then he’s dragging you through the house, yanking your arm so hard it nearly come out of the socket when the demon tries to dig its heels in. You’re going up the stairs, to the bedroom. The demon starts to writhe, tendriled shapes squirming under your skin. It keeps trying to squirm out of his grip, making your legs give out, throwing you at the walls, and Sam looks at you with such frightening eyes that you start to cry.

“Oh, sweetie,” he says, his whole demeanor changing again. He stops to kneel with you in the upstairs hallway, gently rocking back and forth as he holds you. “Shhh, it’s alright. I promise it’s going to be okay. I know this is scary. I’m here for you.”

“What’s happening to me?” you sob. “How did you—why are you acting like this?” 

The demon is talking to you, its whispers scurrying across your brain. “Run!” it’s screaming where you only you can hear. “Get up, get up now! Have to get out of here! What is he doing here? Why is this happening?!”

“There’s a demon in you, sweetie,” Sam says, smoothing his hands up your arms in a soothing motion. “You remember when I told you about the church group I was in as a kid?” You nod, sniffling miserably. He presses his lips to your forehead. “Well, I learned a thing or two about this kind of stuff back then. So I’m going to get the demon out. I know you’re scared, but I’m right here. I’ll be with you the whole time.” 

“Church group?” the demon shrieks. “CHURCH GROUP?! Liar, liar, LIAR!”

Sam leans in suddenly, his smile widening. “Is it talking to you?” he whispers. Your stomach flips nervously. This is the demon’s fault, you think, its fear spilling over. You don’t have any reason to be afraid of your boyfriend. When you nod, he chuckles. You shiver at the warm, wet slide of his tongue along the shell of your ear and the soft, breathy moan he lets out. He whispers something you can’t understand, words in another language. 

The demon starts to scream. There are no words, no thoughts that cross your mind. Just pure, animalistic terror. Sam has to carry you into the bedroom because your legs won’t cooperate and it tries to get away still, flailing and wriggling in his grasp. Your back hits soft, freshly laundered sheets and Sam is on top of you before you can catch your breath. His kisses start chaste, quick pecks along your jaw, but they start to linger, more tongue and teeth and biting.

You’re aware, distantly, of the demon saying something to you, oscillating between threats and begging and weeping, but Sam distracts you. He’s never been even a little rough with you before, but his nails sometimes scrape you carelessly, his teeth sinking into your neck, and an excited shiver runs up your spine. 

You’re down to your underwear when he suddenly stops, pulling something off the nightstand. “Here,” he says, urging you to sit up. It’s a blindfold. The fabric is unbelievably soft, embroidered with small symbols. The sight of it makes you nervous but Sam’s constant, reassuring smile makes you relent. You trust him to get you through whatever’s happening. “You’re doing so well, babe,” he praises you, tying the blindfold into place. You can’t see anything. Not the vague grain of the fabric, not little slits of light along the bridge of your nose. Nothing. The darkness is unnatural but somehow comforting. Sam’s hands are on your shoulder, pushing gently until you’re flat on your back. 

“Sam?” you say, your voice small.

“Yeah, babe?” 

“You’re…not gonna hurt me, right?” 

His palm rests against your cheek. “I’ll never, ever hurt you,” he says softly. “I love you, sweetie. I’m gonna take care of you. Now, try to relax. Take a deep breath for me? Breathe in.” You inhale shakily. Sam slowly drags your underwear down your legs, kissing down your thigh as he goes. “Mhmm. Now breathe out.” You do, shivering, but you tense up when something soft grazes your skin. A feather? “Breathe in,” Sam reminds you. “You’re perfect, sweetie. Breathe out.”

The demon suddenly lurches forward and your back arches. Your body tries to throw itself off the bed but Sam pins you down. 

At least, you think it’s Sam. That hand is so much bigger than his. Both of your wrists are pinned above your head under a single splayed palm, the texture rough like scales. “Be merciful!” it begs. “Great and fearsome shepherd, I’m but a worm before you! I will give you my name, my very essence, just, please—”

Another rough, enormous hand engulfs your throat, squeezing. You can’t breathe. You grab at a a strange, prickly wrist, your fear mingling with the demon’s. You can’t see anything, but you sense that someone is in the room with you. It must be Sam. You don’t want to think about who or what else it could be. Something is here, something huge that has no weight as it leans over you, that doesn’t make the bed dip despite its strangling grip on your neck. You hear Sam’s voice the same way you hear the demon’s—inside your head. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers. “It’s okay. Don’t be afraid.”

You hear something else. Something spoken, words that make the air quiver and your ears ring. The demon makes an ungodly sound of mindless suffering. There’s a hand between your legs and your heart skips a beat. That’s impossible, a third hand—but you’re not given time to think about it. It knows just how to touch you, stroking your sex in all the right ways, all the places that make you cry out. You grind against it desperately, unable to hold back your moans. Sam praises you, that soft, feathery touch caressing your jaw. 

“You’re gorgeous, darling. Don’t worry about anything. Just think about how good I’m making you feel.”

The demon says something, but you can’t hear it. Sam’s voice drowns it out. One thick finger slips inside you as Sam grinds his palm against your sex. You moan his name and your hips chase the sensations, desperate for more. The dull ache of the stretch is quickly forgotten when he finds the spot he’s looking for. You squeal, toes curling, as he fingers you mercilessly. 

There’s another feeling, something distant and buried. It’s not quite pain, but it’s unpleasant. A tension, an unbearable tautness. The demon is wailing, “Kill me, just kill me, I can’t, I can’t—”

“Sweetheart,” Sam murmurs. He withdraws his finger and your legs are spreading, held apart by more hands that stroke and squeeze, massaging your thighs. “Are you ready? I’m going to get the demon out.”

“Please,” you beg him. You inhale sharply when you suddenly feel something shift closer, pressing against you. That’s not Sam. It can’t be. Whatever it is, it’s huge. Its skin is strangely textured, bumpy with little, prickling quills in some places, perfectly smooth in others. It’s warm, pleasantly so, and it gets hotter the more it touches you. Its hands are nearly scalding as it lifts one of your legs. 

Something—something kisses your thigh. It feels sharp, hard like metal, but your mind skips and stutters, and you think you were mistaken. Those were lips. Sam’s lips. They had to be. This is Sam, you just know it is. It’s Sam who slots against you, resting your leg over the curve of his shoulder. It’s Sam who presses slowly, patiently into you. Those strange, sighing sounds, melodic and dizzying and making you feel like the room is swaying, those are just—just the demon, probably. 

You choke back a frightened whimper when he rocks his hips and pushes in a little more, a little harder. Was Sam always this big? You’re full, too full, and he’s not all the way in yet. His thrusts are shallow, gentle, but they get faster. You hear what sounds like enormous birds flapping their wings, a blanket of feathers sliding across your body. “Baby, you feel amazing,” he says. There’s a sharp sensation, and a sudden correction in your brain. A kiss. Soft, not sharp, a gentle peck on the lips. “You’re so tight. It’s alright. I’m taking care of you, just like I said I would.” 

You’re lifted suddenly, a nervous gasp slipping out as you’re set upright, straddling Sam’s lap. The position helps him sink deeper, punching into you with a slap of flesh. You bury your face in his chest. Feathers tickle your cheek. There’s a hand gently stroking your hair and two others at your waist, lifting you easily and then lowering you down onto his enormous cock. You feel like a toy. He moves you up and down like you weigh nothing, so fast you can’t catch your breath. There’s no chance to move your hips or meet his rhythm. He sets the pace, controls you, uses your body as a sheath for his throbbing cock. 

It feels good. The thought is scandalous after a relationship of slow, gentle lovemaking, and your face heats with shame. Sam’s nails dig into your skin hard enough that he’s surely leaving marks, and the thought excites you. 

“Do you like it?” he whispers. “Is it exciting, being used like this? I’ve always been afraid to touch you the way I want. You’re so small when I hold you like this…so fragile. What if I break you?” You gasp when he suddenly brings you down onto a hard, upward thrust, filling you completely. There’s a hand on your chest and a tingling sensation, a soothing heat over your heart. “If I do,” Sam murmurs, “then I’ll just fix you later. It won’t even hurt. I’ll make sure.” 

You’re fucked past the point of thinking. Sam bounces you on his cock with three, sometimes four or five hands, all grasping at you greedily. You cum sobbing with pleasure and he doesn’t stop, pushing you through overstimulation, through mind-numbing pleasure, until you’re a whimpering, quivering mess in his lap.

The world seems to spin when you’re dropped suddenly, the bed rushing up to meet you. Sam is rough with you, wrestling you onto your stomach and pinning you down with his body. It’s the first time you’ve felt anything truly tangible, the press of his hands sinking into the bed on either side of your head. It’s a relief, somehow, something anchoring you to the moment. 

It’s also terrifying. That’s not him. It can’t be. But there’s a gentle nudging in your mind, thoughts that sound like his voice assuring you it’s okay, it’s alright, don’t be afraid. You don’t have the strength to hold yourself up, but you don’t need to. Sam takes you in a new, brutal way, one large hand forcing your head into the mattress as his deep, grinding thrusts push your hips higher. You’re limp, nothing but weak, whimpering flesh for him to fuck how he pleases.

The next time you cum, it almost sends him over the edge. You hear him hiss your name and a litany of sweet nothings and praise. “That’s it, baby, take my cock just like that,” he says, and you hear the strain in his words. He’s close. You thought he was fucking you hard before but now he’s pounding you, the bed shaking under his frenzied movements. 

There’s an indescribable sound, something piercing and inhuman, and then it all goes dark.

*

The next time you open your eyes, the blindfold is gone. You’re in the bedroom. It’s dark. The lights are off, the curtains drawn. The sheets are gone and you hear the laundry machine rumbling down the hall. You feel heavy. Your arms don’t quite work and your legs are sore. By the time you struggle upright, Sam is rushing to your side and urging you to lay down again. 

“Hey, sweetie,” he says. He kneels beside the bed, gazing at you like the most important thing in the world. “You okay?” 

The demon’s gone. You can’t hear or feel it anywhere. But there’s still something bothering you. “Is there…” You hesitate, swallowing nervously. “...something you wanna tell me?” 

It’s Sam, you tell yourself. Your sweet, silly boyfriend Sam. So why do you feel so nervous? He rests his arms on the bed and rests his chin on top of them. “Hm. Not really,” he says.

“Are you sure?” you ask. 

He smiles. Gently, he smooths your hair away from your face and presses his lips to your forehead. You study his face in silence. You don’t see anything wrong or unsettling. Just that same deep love and compassion, the sweet smile you fell for years ago. “I love you,” he says. He steals one last kiss and then he’s on his feet, saying, “I’ll make us dinner!” 

Briefly, as he moves away, you feel the flutter of wings against your skin.

[dollslayer]

Fight or Flight

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve comes clean, in the aftermath and shock you turn to the one person who you know you can trust.

W/C: 2,369

Warnings: Implied cheating, angst, swearing

A/N: Hello! I wrote this for @sweetlyscared 's 1k celebration (congrats, it's well deserved!), prompt is in bold. I'm still pretty new to writing and this is my first true Angst fic so any and all reblogs/comments are super appreciated! Please check out my other stuff if you liked this fic!! Cheers!

PART TWO I Masterlist

____

The feeling of everything crashing around you was slow. Like your world was moving in slow motion as you processed the words. Everything else he was saying became distorted, going to waste as he tried desperately to explain himself to you. All you could hear clearly was your own breathing while you tried to will yourself to do something, anything.

Fight or flight is a funny thing, you were always so feisty and eager to fight back, A Bulldog, Steve had affectionately called you. But when he told you he was in love with someone else, that he has been in love with someone else for months, your body couldn’t find anything in it but to walk away.

Your breathing picked up and your eyes searched the ground, refusing to meet his. You felt your legs raise you up to stand and start walking away, unsure of your destination. When you pivoted to leave the room your eyes met his briefly, staring emotionlessly as his desperately searched for anything at all in yours.

“Where are you going? Doll, please, can we talk about this? I’m, I’m so sorry I-”

Whatever else he was saying wasn’t heard over the noise of opening the door and shutting it behind you. You didn’t know where you were going or what you were feeling other than the obvious. You were in a state of shock, it’s one thing to hear awful news and another to understand that it’s true but you were fastly approaching that truth head-on.

You paused for a moment in the hall and heard no movement come after you. You almost let yourself be surprised but he’d admitted he gave up on you a long time ago, so it only makes sense he wouldn’t fight your exit. You kept walking and tried to hold the floodgates of your heart closed for a bit longer.

Flashes of what was said come back to you slowly as reality sets in. “I can’t put this off any longer. I want you to know that I will always love you, but there’s someone else.”

Your head hurt like it would as if you were already crying, the blood pumping in your ears and pressure building in your temples that would no doubt evoke a long-standing headache. Your face felt hot as you stepped into the elevator, maybe you’d go for a walk in an attempt to fend off your tears. Or maybe you’d walk to a safer place to have an emotional breakdown. Whichever is easier.

Brisk gusts of air greet you as you exit the building, making you realize you left your jacket on the arm of the couch. You took a second to evaluate yourself and noticed you’d also walked out in your house slippers and a thin pair of leggings. Trying to evade the cold you tucked yourself in the doorway of a bodega down the street and dialed Bucky.

Two rings and he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Did you know?”

The silence on the line only reminds you of the blood pumping in your ears. The silence tells you everything you needed to know.

“Liste-”

You hang up.

You’re breathing even harder now. Who else knew? For how long? How long was I the joke? You need to find somewhere else to be soon or all these strangers are going to get an eyeful of a grown woman sobbing. You dial the last number you’d expect to at a time like this.

“What’s happening, shortstack?”

You can hear Tony’s grin through the phone and his easy greeting gives you momentary comfort.

“Can I come over? Something happened.”

“I’ll let Jarvis know to let you in” Tony’s tone is understanding, not needing you to explain further, just letting you know you can come to him.

____

Tony’s only seven blocks from yours and Steve’s shared apartment, a fact you’re grateful for when you feel your feet aching every time they hit the pavement. The conversation replays in your head, you try to word what happened in your head and your anger starts overtaking the heartbreak. It’s almost a welcome reprieve from the settling heartbreak but you’re not sure if you’d rather be numb to it completely.

When the elevator doors open Tony’s waiting for you with two tumblers of scotch in hand. You shake your head and move past him to the couch. He joins you on the opposite armchair and sets both his elbows down on his spread knees, resting his face in his hands.

“Would you like to talk about it or not talk about it?” He asks with a sigh.

You don’t make eye contact with him so you don’t cry, choosing to focus on the Iron Man coffee table book you’d gotten as a gag gift for Tony all those Christmases ago. It almost distracts you enough to laugh, the fact that he just has it out. But you need to tell someone what happened and get it all out before you can let yourself feel it all.

“Steveisinlovewithsomeoneelse,” You rushed it all out in one breath afraid if you didn’t get it out fast enough that you’d break. “He has been for months. He said he doesn’t know when it all changed but when he was with her things just clicked,” you paused to collect yourself, “But don’t worry, I’ll always hold a special place in his heart and he hopes this won’t affect the future of the team or our friendship.”

“Oh, and he’s really sorry.” you added.

You laughed bitterly and shook your head in disbelief. His delivery had been so cold but so sincere, very to the point but pained in its delivery. “I just, whatever we had, it’s just gone. Things are just different now, with her, this kills me though, please believe me. You’re still really special to me.” Bullshit. Special enough to act as a placeholder until someone better comes, special enough to cast aside.

You’re broken momentarily from your spiral into anger by the sound of a glass hitting a coaster a little too hard. Looking up, you find Tony quietly seething. He and Steve aren’t close by any means so you figured that he wouldn’t have known, it’s why you called him over anyone else.

He moves slowly to your side on the couch and pulls you into his side. You can smell his aftershave and what you think might be burned grease from one of the many things he’s been tinkering with in the lab, it smells like him, like comfort.

“That fucking asshole. Unbelievable, I don’t even…” He leaves the thought unfinished.

His hands move up and down your arms in a soothing motion and you finally let yourself have it. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel the tears wet his shirt when you bury your face in. You sniffle up tears and snot when your face heats up.

There’s no way to know how long Tony lets you sob into him, no doubt ruining his vintage Depeche Mode shirt. Somewhere in the back of your mind you make a mental note to buy him a new one later. But for now you’ll just allow yourself to cry and you can deal with the world in the morning.

____

Tony lets you fall asleep on his chest, feeling somewhere between furious and heartbroken by proxy. He thinks about letting you sleep and giving Steve a piece of his mind but figures that’s not what you need right now. Your phone sits on the table and he touches the screen to check the time. No notifications on your homescreen except for a missed call from Bucky and an old photo of Steve making a funny face as your background.

Had Steve not even tried to call you? Had he not even tried to go after you? Why was Bucky of all people the only one to be trying to get a hold of you? Prick.

Selfishly Tony is glad that he has a good reason to be rude to Steve now, he has to admit. You two had always been close but when you and Steve started dating he saw less and less of you. He couldn’t fault you for it though, you were so in love with Steve and you knew that the relationship between the two of them was strained so you kept your distance a bit.

He thought of all the sacrifices you’d made for Steve. You gave up your childhood home in the Bronx that your parents had willed to you to move in with him because he wanted you to be closer to the tower. You gave up a promotion and transfer to DC when you were still just an agent, granted you were an avenger now but it doesn’t matter, he’d made a very big deal out of you turning it down. You gave up the friendship the two of you had.

It was incredible, really. How much you had done for him only for him to turn around and love someone else behind your back. Brave enough to fight aliens and terrorists but too cowardly to break up with you and leave you with some dignity. Did anyone else know about this?

Tony had to stop himself from getting too angry, afraid he’d wake you up. So instead he went back to plotting up schematics for the half-finished suit mod he’d been in the middle of when you called.

____

It’s been a week and you still haven’t properly talked to Steve. After two days on Tony’s couch you need to look at things from a logical stance. Where am I going to stay? It’s not like you had your parent’s place anymore and you didn’t want to sign a new lease on an apartment. You could always move into the tower but that meant a higher chance of running into Steve.

You were thinking about all of this out loud to Tony when he offered you the guest bedroom in his penthouse. You were shocked, he’s always been a generous man but after you drifted apart from him you were surprised he even let you stay these past few days. Maybe now was a good time to rebuild your friendship with him and have some space from work.

What’s work going to be like? You agree and go on a temporary leave from the team, just a month to collect yourself. If you really wanted to you could go back but the thought of seeing everyone that knew about Steve’s affair was humiliating and enraging in one go.

It turns out Sam had been playing therapist to Steve in all of this, Nat figured it out through some sleuthing, and Wanda had inadvertently heard his thoughts about her. And none of them thought to tell you? To save you from the anguish but to let it fester? Steve wasn’t the only one that betrayed you. They all had.

What will I say to him? Should I say anything to him? Turns out the answer was ‘nothing’. You texted him to let him know you were moving out and you’d be by to get your things as a courtesy. You walked into an empty apartment and you were almost relieved.

He’d chosen to not be here but he’d left you a letter on the kitchen counter next to a framed photo of the two of you on vacation last year. You scoff but don’t touch the letter. Every ounce of restraint you have is being used as you leave it untouched. But you don’t need to know what excuses or apologies he has on deck, nothing he could say would exonerate him of his wrong-doings. You had no intentions of speaking to him but secretly you hoped he suffered as he stewed in his guilt and inner-turmoil. He deserves to.

When you pack you leave every gift he ever gave you, taking only what you’d brought with you in the first place. You take one look at the unmade bed and almost go to make it out of habit but then you think of the two of them there together. All the long missions you went on without him, all the times you stayed late at work or went out with your friends. How many times had he been here with her while you were there?

You end up only leaving with two suitcases and a backpack full of things. Tony waits for you in the lobby, understanding you wanted your space when you went to get your things in case Steve was there.

The elevator doors open to him taking a selfie with a couple of fans and shaking hands. He’s all too happy to be recognized but when he sees you his eyes soften. Not out of pity, but fondness, like he’s proud of you for getting out.

He sends you a questioning look with a silent question. Are you okay?

You smile at him and for the first time in days it’s a genuine, non-placating, happy-to-see-you smile. It’s okay, I’ll be okay.

He takes one of your suitcases from you and helps you load them into the back of the car before opening the door for you. The drive back to Tony’s is silent but comfortable. The trust you have in each other is strong and unspoken. Something you’ve always been grateful for between the two of you.

He doesn’t ask you about Steve or what happened, always letting you come to him first, which you appreciate. And when you talk he just listens. No bullshit unsolicited advice about moving on or how everything happens for a reason or getting back out there, just listens.

You know the road ahead is long and it will be difficult, but you have someone in your corner and the knowledge that what happened isn’t your fault and that you’re a badass and fuck Steve Rogers and fuck anyone else that did you wrong in all of this. Maybe you’ll forgive them someday but for now you’re gonna focus on you and work on building yourself back up. You’re ready for the ups and downs, you’re ready to fight.

[ohbuckie]

b!bucky drabble about the day or so after the breakup??? from his perspective just dealing with the aftermath if that makes sense bc i love to make men suffer <3

OKAYY

bassist!bucky x fem!reader

wc: 988

warnings: suicide mention, angst, drug mention

He’s lost today. His nose is stuffed, his eyes are puffy, his head is pounding.

Steve wakes him up. “Advil?” He holds a couple in his outstretched right hand, and a bottle of water in his left.

Bucky takes them from him, nodding. He swallows the pills dry, but sips from the water bottle anyway. Gulps, rather.

“How are you feeling?” His friend asks.

“Like somebody is sitting on my chest and holding a pillow against my face.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever.”

“Feel like sight-seeing today?”

Amsterdam is a beautiful city. They have two days before their next show to explore. Bucky was excited to hold your hand and pull you around the cobblestone roads into cafés and gift shops.

“No. Feel like fucking killing myself today.”

“Not funny.”

“Wasn’t kidding.”

“Call your mom.” Steve suggests. Bucky never lets him in until after his mom has already broken down his first wall.

“I don’t want to talk to her.”

“You need to.”

“What’s she gonna say? That I’m stupid? I already know that.”

“You need to.” He repeats again.

Bucky glares at him. “Fine. Get out. I’ll call her.”

“You don’t get to snort a line beforehand.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you. Where is it? In your bag?”

“No, in a balloon up my ass.” He sits up for the first time today and closes his eyes while his head rushes.

“You’re a dick. Call your mom.”

“I will.” He says, sincerely this time.

Steve finally leaves him alone, closing the door behind himself to give Bucky the privacy that he needs.

It’s a little past noon in Holland, which means six o’clock in the morning in New York. His mom will be awake, so he swallows his pride and calls her.

“Hello, James.” He can hear her smiling.

“Hi.” He can’t even fake enthusiasm. He can already feel his throat tightening like he’s about to cry.

“What’s wrong?”

She can always tell.

“She left me.” His voice cracks.

“What?”

“She left me. Y/N. She flew back home. She’s moving out. She dumped me.” He takes a shaky breath and lets his eyes well up with tears that silently fall down his cheeks. He wishes you were here to rub his back and kiss his head.

“Why?”

He knows that what she really wants to ask is, “What did you do?”

“Because I’m an asshole.”

“You’re not an asshole, Bucky-”

“I am. It was my fault. I just don’t know what to do now. I can’t stay here. I can’t go on stage. I need to come home, mama.”

“No, James, you can’t come home. It’s only a couple more weeks and you’ll be back. If you come home you’ll shut everyone out. You can’t do that. You need to stay, sweetie.”

“I can’t do it.”

He’s really crying now, sniffling and wiping his eyes, hoping the rest of the band can’t hear how pathetic he sounds.

“You can. You need to. You’ve done much harder things.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“This feels so big right now, Bucky, but you just need time.”

“I don’t want time, I want my girlfriend back.”

“I know, honey. I’m so sorry this is happening. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just…I need to go. Eat some breakfast or something. I just have to go.”

“Be safe. If you need help, get help. Your friends would do anything for you.”

“I know.”

He knows that she’s worried he’ll hurt himself, but he doesn’t promise that he won’t.

“I love you. I don’t know what I would do without you. Call me if you need anything. Doesn’t matter what time it is, okay?”

“Okay. I love you too, mom. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

He can’t stand. Well, physically, he can, but mentally, he doesn’t have the willpower. He lays back down and pulls his blanket above his shoulders, turning on his side so that his back faces the curtain that separates him from the hallway.

He thinks of just two nights ago, when you slept beside him in this bed, wearing his hoodie and snoring lightly against his chest.

Somebody opens the door to the cabin in which the bunks are. “I made breakfast, if you want some. Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast.” It’s Sam.

“No, thanks.”

“You should put something in your stomach.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I’ll save you some.”

“Thank you.”

The door doesn’t close, though. Instead, somebody pulls his curtain to the side, revealing his state of agony to the world. Well, to the center aisle, at least.

“Scoot over.” Natasha insists.

“Nat-”

“Now.”

He sighs and makes room for her, letting her crawl under his blanket, where he lays in just his boxers. He can’t be fucked to put on clothes today. It’s a miracle that he’s speaking to anyone at all.

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“Can I hug you?”

He nods, and she wraps her arms around him, pulling his head against her chest. He just closes his eyes, sniffling and trying his hardest not to cry, like he’d planned on doing when he laid back down.

“You can cry, Bucky. It’s okay.” She says softly, gently holding the back of his head and resting her chin on top of it.

“I don’t know what to do.” He sobs.

“I know. Don’t even think about it, okay? Just feel sorry for yourself today. It’s okay to do that. This fucking sucks.”

He sniffles. “I just want her to come back. I wish I could take back the last, like, two months and do them over again. I feel like such a prick.”

She sighs. “I know you do. But you want her to be happy, right? She needs to go find somebody that makes her really happy.”

He takes a breath in an effort to collect himself. “I just wish she was happy with me.”

[redrobin-detective]

because I could not stop for death

because I could not stop for death / he kindly stopped for me / the carriage held but just ourselves / and immortality ~ Emily Dickinson

Danny Fenton was dying, properly this time.

Somehow, in the back of his head and in his worst nightmares, he knew it would end this way: bleeding on the floor of his parents’ lab where it had all began. He was so hot he felt like his skin was on fire, blood and ectoplasm were dripping all over him and his lungs and heart were working overtime to try in vain to keep him alive a moment longer. He’d imagined at the time that there would be more screaming but death, in the end, was turning out to be a quiet little affair. A lonely table set for one.

“Danny, Danny come on, you-you gotta slow down your breathing, just relax, for me, please,” Sam moaned, more than making up for his lack of noise. She was shaking and touching him all over, his chest, his face, his hair. Normally she jumped right into action but she had to know, deep down, that there was nothing she could do. All that was left was to watch her panic and cry, it wasn’t his favorite image. 

“Vlad!” He heard Tucker scream cry into the phone, “please it’s Tucker, Danny’s dying I think. The Fentons had some new invention, something about his core, please we don’t know what to do!” 

Ugh Vlad, he was probably going to be so happy Danny was on his way out. He wasn’t looking much forward to his last images being his archenemy gloating. Tucker hung up and reached down to grasp Danny’s hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t worry dude, Vlad’s coming. He knows so much about you half ghosts that you’ll be fixed up on no time.” Right, Danny was already dead. If calling Vlad, feeling like he did something, helped Tucker move on then he’d deal with it.

Danny tilted his head to the side where Sam’s fingernails were carding through his hair. It was getting harder to see with the blood pouring out of his eyes but he looked at her, and tried to memorize her face. He’d never been able to tell her how much he loved her, that any day spent with her was a blessing. Tucker too, his best bro and a part of his soul. His best friends in the whole wide world, through thick and thin. God, he was going to miss them.

“Glurk,” he said, trying to convey those feeling but the fluids in his mouth and airway made it impossible. “Blerh.”

“Shh shh shh,” Sam soothed, “it’s okay, don’t try to talk.”

“Daniel!” He heard Vlad’s voice shriek as he materialized in front of the portal. Sam and Tucker were violently pushed out the way. Danny wanted to be angry at his loved ones being taken away in his final moments but anger was for the living, he barely had the energy to breathe. This death was too long and too short all at once. He made eye contact with Vlad who all at once lost the frantic edge to his tone and and instead knelt on the floor. “Oh my dear boy. What did they do to you?”

“What is going on?” Sam demanded, shoving her way back in. Danny was glad, he could see again like this. “Why aren’t you doing something!”

“There’s nothing to be done,” Vlad said in a flat, monotone, he picked up one of Danny’s hands and patted it gently. “His core is dying, it’s like a ghost’s heart. It contains their very essence, it is from which everything they are comes from. If Jack and Maddie somehow disrupted it then there’s nothing anyone can do to save him.”

“But he’s human too,” Tucker defended, grabbing Danny’s other hand. His human warm skin burned but the contact felt so good, he twitched his fingers closer to his friend’s. “He-he doesn’t need a core, he’s already got a heart. So, so he doesn’t have powers, we can do normal again.”

“You-” Vlad hissed before taking a calming breath. “The accident that made Daniel like this irreparably altered him. His core was as much a part of keeping him alive as his other organs, without it, his body is shutting down.” Vlad turned down to look Danny in the eye and saw true, genuine grief in those hateful red eyes. 

“I cannot imagine the agony you are going through, I’m so sorry. I’d say it will be over soon but,” a hitch that sounded almost like a sob if it was coming from anyone other than Vlad. “But you’ve hovered on the edge of death for years, son, and you’ve always been such a fighter. You have minutes at most but those minutes are an eternity when you’re suffering.”

Sam and Tucker’s sobbing blended together in the background, Vlad was saying something with a miserable, stunned expression. The swirling of the portal in the background seemed louder than anything, louder than his heart beat pounding and pounding as it ran it’s last race. 

“Daniel, Danny,” he focused his eyes back on Vlad who had a stubborn, unhappy set to his brow. “Do you want me to make the pain stop? An ectoblast to your chest will end your life instantly.”

“Don’t you dare touch him,” Sam shrieked, coming back into view and looking like she was trying to fight Vlad off. “You do anything to him and I’ll kill you!” Tucker just sat and stared at him, like he too was trying memorize Danny’s face.

“It’s a mercy, Samantha or do you want his last moments on earth to be drowning on the blood in his lungs.”

“Sam, he has a point. I don’t- I don’t think we can fix this.”

“No! No we always fix things, I’ll do it myself if I have to!”

Danny’s vision was starting to go, more black than anything else. He closed his eyes and readied himself for the inevitable. 

“Time Out,” Danny opened his eyes and found he was no longer in pain. He was standing up and apart from where he’d previously been lying. Sam had her hands in Vlad’s face and the older hybrid was snarling something at her. Tucker was midmotion trying to stand up, presumably to get Sam but the three of them were frozen in the moment. Danny turned and found Clockwork floating, looking very out of place in his parents lab. “Good evening, Danny.”

“You that short on cash that you work part time as a grim reaper?” Danny quipped out of habit. He looked down at his body and grimaced a bit, that wasn’t a pretty sight. No doubt traumatizing for Tucker and Sam. God how were they going to explain this to his parents? “Gonna ferry me across the River Styx? I don’t have two pennies but I think I have a bloodied $10 on me.”

“You’re core is dying and you have 17 seconds left in this world before all your organs give out and finish the process you began when you turned on your parent’s ghost portal,” Clockwork explained as he changed into child form. 

“O-okay,” Danny said shakily, trying to be brave even when he was so, so scared. He was going out whether he wanted it or not but he refused to leave crying. “Nice of you to come say goodbye then but, uh but unless you have something to say then you should let me go back. No one knows better than me that you can’t outrun death. Thanks but I’m uh I’m ready.”

Clockwork stared at him for a bit, not sure how long, time was weird like this but he changed forms a few times. “You’re quite the remarkable young man, Danny Fenton.”

“Uh thanks,” Danny added, once more looking at his body which had, according to Clockwork, a 17 second expiration date. “What’s going to happen? Am I going to become a ghost? Does heaven or hell exist for someone like me?”

“I don’t get to decide what happens, I merely see options,” Clockwork stated easily, taking his time. “If you die naturally you’ll become ghost, a mere shadow of who you are now and one who would fade fairly quickly. You don’t have strong enough anger or regrets to tie you in the real world for long.” Not great but okay he supposed, hell for his friends and family though. “You could let Plasmius deliver his mercy kill, destroying what’s left of your ghost core and ensuring you do not come back.” Better, probably won’t help the Fruitloop’s instability but he can’t save everyone.

“That one comes with it’s own caveat but I’ll get to that in a moment,” Clockwork explained. “There is a third option where you get up off the floor and walk away.” Danny blinked then looked back at his body which certainly wasn’t walking anywhere but into a plush casket. Clockwork opened his hands and the Ghost King’s Crown materialized in his hands. “If you accept your claim to the King’s Cown, it will revitalize your core and your life would be saved.”

Danny blinked.

“By sealing Pariah Dark, you won by proxy and established a legitimate claim to the throne. The Zone has been without a king for millennia, most have forgotten the old rules. Those who remembered were not too keen on a half-ghost child assuming leadership and kept you in the dark. If Plasmius ends your life then your claim transfers over to him, which he is aware of. It had been his plan all along to trick you into defeating Pariah so he could steal the Crown from you at a later date, a much easier opponent.”

Danny’s mind was overloaded with information, he didn’t know what to focus on first. He stared at his 17 seconds from death face and tried to process it all. Crown? Claim? Vlad?

“Of course,” Clockwork tutted, “he didn’t plan on your dying and in such a gruesome fashion. If he kills you and takes your claim, he would spend his remaining years ruling the Ghost Zone in a just, controlled fashion for your memory. He destroys all the stable portals and keeps the ghost and human worlds separate.” Clockwork became and old man and titled his head, “it’s not a bad timeline, all things considered.”

“And if I take it?” Danny asked quietly.

“You’re compassionate, brave and motivated, you have all the makings of a revolutionary king,” Clockwork smiled. “The Zone would experience and unprecedented era of peace, there would be positive interactions between human and ghosts for the first time since life and death split into two. Your name would spoken with reverence for the rest of time.”

“But I don’t want to be king,” Danny frowned.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Clockwork stated. “Which is why I am giving you the choice. If you pass peacefully there will be no one to claim the Crown and life will continue on, ghost attacks and all. If Plasmius kills you, he becomes an effective but unmemorable king. If you take the Crown, you can get the chance to tell Sam and Tucker how much you love them.”

Danny rubbed at his face, he didn’t want to die but he’d be sealing away his entire future with a move like this. He didn’t even know if the Crown would let him go with death, maybe he’d die and be stuck as the Ghost King until his core finally gave out lord in who knows how long. Eternity was an awful long time to carry such a responsibility. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, too afraid of the answer.

“Is there ever a timeline I became an astronaut?” He asked instead. Clockwork hummed, seemingly unsurprised by Danny’s non-sequitur. 

“Yes, in one of the few universes where you never walked into the portal. You never go into space what with human politics putting a halt on the programs but you work for NASA. You leave Amity Park at 17 and don’t come back save for your parents’ dual funeral.” He paused and Danny felt read down to his very bones, “from the moment you became half ghost you were always heading for this moment. The circumstances varied but it always came down to you and the Crown. Time is straining to continue, to see how this drama plays out. Will you accept it and all the joy and grief that comes with it?”

Danny looked over at Vlad, still mid-sneer but there was a scared desperation in his face. He and Vlad sniped at each other all the time but Danny didn’t really hate him and he didn’t think Vlad did either. Leaving him alone, plus making him be king was a heavy burden to put on his enemy. 

Sam and Tuck probably wouldn’t recover from this, he’d put them through so much already but he just knew that they’d never be the same. Could he do that to them? Take the easy way out and leave them to suffer? Mom and Dad didn’t deserve to come home to a dead son, the truth would come out and they’d never forgive themselves. Jazz certainly wouldn’t, she was 2 states over at University but he could already hear her angry, grief-stricken screams. 

Death, death was quiet. It was quiet and merciful and sad, but it was also easy. And Danny Fenton had never once taken the easy route. He reached out and took and the crown before shakily placing it on his head. He gasped, throwing his head back as his core swelled, taking up residence once more right next to his heart. Clockwork smiled, looking like the cat who ate the canary. 

“The Crown of Fire, pardon me the Crown changes with each core, the Crown of Ice is now yours as is the Zone. Your reign begins now but so too does the rest of your life. People are waiting for you. Time in.” Danny slammed back into awareness on the floor of his parents’ lab, the floor he’d almost died on twice. 

He sat up as cold radiated off his body, causing frost to crawl down his arms and along the floor. Sam, Tucker and Vlad, who’d been frozen up until now, jumped back to life. There was a new, familiar weight on his head that he didn’t dare acknowledge. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and said a silent goodbye to a quiet, normal life. It wouldn’t be all bad, he could be happy like this but the Crown still felt like a iron manacle around his neck. But he got used to the ghost powers, he could get used to this too. Maybe one day he won’t look at the stars and say ‘what if?’

“Danny!” Sam shouted, throwing herself into his arms soon followed by Tucker. Their warm weight, their relieved sobs, their shaky breaths in his air, now this was something worth living for. He squeezed them tightly.

“But how dude, you were at death’s door!” Tucker asked, still not letting go.

“You accepted the Crown,” Vlad said evenly, “I wasn’t aware you even knew about your claim. Who told you?”

“You don’t know everything, Vlad,” Danny sighed, sitting himself upright. Ugh his shirt was covered in blood and ectoplasm. He needed to trash these clothes before his parents freaked. And find a way to hide the floating ice crown on his head. 

“Even an old man can be surprised every now and again,” Vlad said wearily. He stood up to his full height before startling Danny by dipping down to one knee. “Then allow me to be the first to welcome my new king and wish him well.”

“I thought you wanted this,” Danny questioned.

“I do, I did,” Vlad said, unusually off balance. “To be quite honest, I’m not sure how to feel about it but, right now, I’m just immeasurably happy you’re alive, little badger. Now I best be off, enjoy your kingdom, my liege, I’ll be sure to come bother you some time soon.” Vlad disappeared in a swirl of pink leaving just him, Sam and Tucker still clinging to him.

Danny may have a kingdom, a job he didn’t want and his whole life decided in a spur of the moment choice, but he also had something very important. He squeezed his friends tightly.

“I love you guys, thank you for being my friends even though I have the worst ideas for activities. Dying? On a Sunday night? How lame is that?” Sam laughed, a bit hysterical but it was real and it made Danny feel weightless. 

“Don’t do that again, buddy,” Tucker breathed into his shoulder. “So you gonna explain what just happened and why you’re apparently the Ghost King or something?”

“Yeah, yeah I will but let’s get changed first. Mom and Dad will be home soon and I think I’m going to need to have a conversation with them about my new job.” 

[picturetoburnnn]

Lightning Strikes | bucky barnes x reader

word count - 6.5k

warnings - angst, language, poorly written ending, mentions of blood/violence, torture, descriptions of panic attacks !! do not read if this could trigger you !!

summary - Y/N is kidnapped and experimented on by HYDRA. Nothing can stop Bucky from saving her. But... what if Y/N can't be saved? What if Y/N won't let herself be saved?

a/n - I had three of the most amazing beta readers ever for this fic !! many, many thanks to @cxddlyash, @thewxntersoldier, and especially @calpalirwin, who almost wrecked the car when I told you part of the storyline <3

tags - @bibliophilewednesday @givebuckyhisplumsnow (send me an ask or a dm if you'd like to be added!!)

Two months. It had been two months since the last time anyone had seen Y/N in person. Heartbreaking video footage had been delivered as if to taunt the team.

“Please, I don’t know anything about Project Delaware, I swear. Don’t put me in the room I swear, I swear I don’t know,” she sobbed. Everyone held their breath as they watched their teammate be tortured. The film cut to the next shot, obviously a few minutes later, if the new bloodstains and split lip were anything to go by, as well as the new setting. In the center of the shot was Y/N, lying strapped to a table, restraints fastened to her hands and ankles.

“Please,” she begged. “I can’t give you what you want, please just let me go.” Her cries went unanswered, disregarded as the scientists in the room continued prepping their experiments.

Bucky felt his stomach drop as they held her down, injecting vial after vial of some strange serum in her veins. His mouth went dry as she passed out after the third injection, a cry dying on her lips. His feelings for Y/N were far from hidden, with his longing stares and lingering touches that never seemed to be enough. Watching her in pain was his own personal hell.

Knowing this was a recording was another level of torment. This had already happened. There was nothing he could do to stop this. HYDRA had taken their time and already took her apart. But hearing Y/N call out his name, begging him to help - that was what broke him. He fell to his knees in the middle of the living room, reaching out to the screen to maybe, maybe just try to take some of her pain.

Her screams played on repeat in everyone’s heads as they worked tirelessly to find her - but no one seemed to work harder than Bucky. Sleep became a foreign concept to the soldier. Nights and days blended together to form some unforgivable mesh of consciousness. Dark bags formed under his eyes that put those he gained as the Winter Soldier to shame. His teammates looked at him with some strange mix of pity, confusion, and comfort. So when the day finally came when Y/N’s location was revealed, he was the first one to board the jet. Plopping himself down in his seat, he purposefully avoided Steve and Sam’s concerned glances.

“Pal,” Steve began, “no one would blame you for sitting this one out.”

“I would,” he replied harshly as he strapped himself in.

“She knows you’ve been working to find her. Maybe you should take a rest,” Sam tried to reason.

“I won’t sleep,” Bucky growled, “until she’s home. Until I can physically see and feel her, I will not close my eyes because she’d do the same for me. So don’t even try to talk me out of this.” His chest heaved with emotion as he all but hissed the last few words.

The captains shared a look, and silently seated themselves on either side of him. “We’ll get her back, Buck.”

The soldier stayed silent, praying that their words rang true.

~~

Bucky almost slipped back into the Winter Soldier as he fought his way through the compound. Blades and bullets alike found home in his targets, anyone daring to come in his way falling before they could move against him. The way to her cell was paved with bloody trails, some old and some new.

Her door was easy enough to find - the only one reinforced with more locks and chains than would typically be necessary. Bucky saw nothing but red as he all but ripped the locking mechanism away from the door, but the sight awaiting him made him want to blackout.

Y/N was suspended by the wrists in the center of the room, hands suspended above her head by thick gauntlets, a chain looping through a hook in the ceiling. Her head hung low, and he would have thought her dead if not for the worryingly subtle rise and fall of her chest.

Oxygen couldn't come fast enough as he mumbled into his earpiece. "I found her," he breathed, relief and apprehension apparent in his tone. He ignored the team’s questions as he forced his legs to move closer, commanding his body to listen and lower his friend. He cradled her beaten body to his chest, frantically searching for a pulse. Faint, but there.

"Y/N, sweetheart, you gotta come back to me, wake up for me." He pushed a strand of hair back away from her eyes. She didn't respond.

"Barnes, we gotta go. Reinforcements will be here soon." Stark's voice rang through the comms. "Get her to the jet, we can put her in the cradle until Cho can take a look at her."

A hardened mask fell over his features. He would do this. He could handle this because Y/N needed him to. "Copy that."

~~

Two weeks and she's still unconscious. Dr. Cho had yet to decipher what HYDRA had injected in her. Bucky was furious.

How dare they? How dare they take Y/N, who refused to kill the bugs that found their way inside, instead choosing to carry them back out. Y/N, who smiled and cracked jokes when everyone else was too solemn to. Y/N, who was never afraid to approach Bucky when everyone else was.

He'd taken it upon himself to hunt them down. Every agent who was rumored to be even affiliated with the base she was on - they found a bullet between their eyes. James Barnes had gone rogue, and there was nothing the team could do. He had cut off communication from everyone except Cho, who updated him on everything relating to Y/N. And so far, nothing had changed, so the bodies of HYDRA agents kept piling up.

He sat alone on a rooftop in Madripoor. This city never was his favorite, but he'd go just about anywhere to find these assholes. The loaded rifle next to him served as a constant reminder of what he was actually doing here, of the price these agents and scientists had to pay for experimenting on someone who deserved the world at her feet. The operative he was currently tracking, Samuel Geigler, was a scientist mentioned to have been the one developing whatever serum they'd forced into Y/N.

Movement below signaled his mark had left his apartment. This was his chance. Bucky readied the rifle, bracing against his shoulder and peering through the scope. Just a little to the left, and the target's skull was just in the crosshairs. His finger rested on the trigger. Geigler was about to get in his car. Bucky took a deep breath, braced his shoulder, and --

A hand came to rest on the assassin's left shoulder. Bucky whipped around, bringing a hand to the unexpected visitor’s wrist. His free hand found the knife at his hip and within a few skilled moves, his guest had a blade pressed against their throat.

"What do you want?" he hissed.

"Buck," Steve began, "you've gotta come back."

"They're still out there," he responded harshly, pulling the knife away from his oldest friend's jugular. Looking down, he saw his mark's car was halfway down the road. Damnit. That's another day he has to spend in this goddamn city.

"Buck, you're not hearing me. She's progressing. She'll wake up soon. Come back home."

"You said she'd wake up soon the moment we got her back. I won't be home until she's awake or I kill each and every one of them who laid a hand on her. Whichever happens first."

James began packing his rifle, ready to spend another night chasing leads.

"This isn't who you are," Steve breathed. "This vigilante justice, rogue assassinations, it's not what she would want, it's not you."

"The U.S. Army trained me as a sniper." Bucky spun and jabbed a finger in Steve's chest. "I was the sniper, oh sorry, assassin, on the Howling Commandos. HYDRA made me a goddamn assassin, too. This is exactly who I am, Rogers. Don't try to say it isn't. This is what they made me, this is what you made me."

"And Y/N? What about her? What would she think when she wakes up and finds out you killed fifty people because of her?"

"Because of her? Steve, I'm doing this for her. So that she doesn't have to wake up to a world where people can do to other people what they did to her. So she can rest easy knowing they won't come for her. Things I would have loved to have known when I escaped." Bucky's chest heaved as he glared at the blonde.

Steve sighed, knowing there wasn't much else he could say. Admitting he was right would be like condoning his actions, and arguing against him would be like saying Y/N didn't deserve the peace of mind Bucky was trying to give her, the only way he knew how.

"Buck, I'm not here to fight you. Cho--"

"Has been keeping me updated of Y/N's conditions. I'll know when she wakes up. I'll be there."

As if on a cue, his phone vibrated against the pocket of his jeans. Steve raised an almost perfectly trimmed brow.

"I'm going back home, Bucky. I hope you will too." With that, the Captain turned on his heel and walked away, hoping his friend would follow.

Bucky stayed rooted to the ground. “That place isn’t my home until she’s back in it.”

The Captain hesitated, then continued onward with an overwhelming air of defeat.

Later that night, Bucky opened the notification he had been too anxious to read. Would she be okay? Would Cho tell him she hadn't made it? That the injuries were too severe? That the injections were actually a slow-acting poison?

Two words made his whole world stop.

She's up.

~~

Constant, slow beeping. A heart monitor. Someone adjusting an IV. Likely injecting another foreign substance in her.

"Please…" she groaned, "no."

"Y/N?" Someone called her name. Strange, HYDRA usually just called her Experiment or bitch. "Y/N, can you hear me?" The woman was familiar somehow, like from another lifetime.

"I can't," she whined groggily. "Don't make me, please please don't." A hand gripped her arm. The handler, she presumed. "I can't," she cried. "I can't, I can't. Please, it hurts, I can't control it, don't make me."

Something shook her. "Y/N come back to us, kid." This time the voice was male.

"Don't touch me!" A scream ripped through her chest as she jolted up, arms thrashing and chest heaving. She fought off the hands that tried to restrain her.

"Kid, kid, look at me." Someone was talking to her, someone she knew, but Y/N couldn't bring herself to focus on anything but getting free.

"Don't make me do it," she sobbed as a face came into her field of view. Her eyes met brown, and Tony Stark was in front of her, his hands bracing her shoulders, keeping her arms still enough to not hurt herself.

"Kid, please, breathe for me, yeah? In and out. No one's gonna make you do it, okay? Just breathe," he tried to soothe as she continued to whimper.

"Tony," she breathed. "Tony, oh my god."

"I'm here, Y/N, I'm here." The billionaire pulled Y/N into his arms. She tucked her face into the crook of his neck and cried.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." The endless whispered apologies flowed from her lips as she refused to lift her head.

"Kid, what can you be sorry for?"

"I failed. I got captured, I could have hurt you. I'm so sorry, Tony, I tried to stop them, I tried." Her cries increased in intensity as she recounted her shortcomings, and Tony's heart broke. He glanced over to Dr. Cho, who had been standing on the side, apprehensively ready to sedate if necessary. Stark knew the only person who could potentially calm her.

"Notify Barnes. She's awake."

Helen nodded and exited the room.

"Y/N, you're alright. It's okay. You don't have to talk about it. But we need to do some lab work, yeah? Now that you're awake?"

Her head lifted instantly, terror apparent in her eyes. "No, no, no needles, please. I'll do whatever you want, just no needles please, I can't do it, you can't put that stuff in me again," she begged desperately.

"Y/N? Y/N, listen, nothing is going-- Y/N!" Tony struggled to keep her still. He shook her shoulders once, twice, and she still remained frantic.

"I can't-- I can't, Tony, I can't control it, I-I-I'll hurt you guys and I can't do that, no needles, I can't hurt you, I can't, I can't-"

"Doc!" Tony called frantically. "Helen, she's hyperventilating and her pulse is increasing."

The next thing Y/N felt was a short prick in the neck before her eyelids fell too heavy to stay open. The last thing Tony saw on her face before she passed out was a look of utter betrayal.

~~

The first thing Y/N noticed when she was awake was that she was alone. No familiar face sat at her bedside, no one was poking and prodding. The room, the same room as before, was empty of any other persons.

Was this real? No, this had to be some sort of trick. She wasn’t actually home. HYDRA had created some new hell, some new way of deceiving her mind into thinking she was home.

The door creaked open. This was it. The scientists were coming back, they’d come up with new experiments and they would stick her with serums and tubes and the electricity that coursed through her veins.

The moment a body came into view, she released all the tension that was building up. Sparks flew from the tips of her fingers, as electricity shot in all directions. A scream ripped through her body as Y/N let go of all the strain, heat, and power that she’d been trying to keep under control.

Y/N was panting as the light died down. When she opened her eyes, Dr. Cho was standing in the doorway, cradling her left arm. All emotions drained from the once-hero immediately as she saw what she’d done. Cho’s lab coat sleeve was singed, and Y/N could spy blood seeping through the ruined edges.

Immediately, tears sprung to her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Helen. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she began.

The doctor stepped forward, but Y/N held her hand out. Cho’s flinch as she moved didn’t escape her notice. “Don’t come closer to me,” Y/N breathed. “I might do it again.”

Cho opened her mouth to speak but was cut off when voices were heard in the hallway.

“What was that?!”

“It came from medical.”

The telltale voices of her teammates flooded her senses, and dread filled her mind. Of course, she missed them and wanted to see them, but what if she hurt them? What if she couldn’t control it again, and hurt them like she did Dr. Cho?

“Don’t come in here!” Y/N thought she said the words softly, but it came out more like a yell. She saw as most of her teammates gathered in the doorway, where Helen stood like a barricade between two worlds. Wanda, Natasha, Sam, Tony, Thor, and Scott stood paralyzed in the entryway.

“Y/N...” Wanda, who had always been like a sister to the girl, breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her friend finally awake.

“Put me in solitary.”

“...Excuse me?” Tony, the father of the group, elbowed his way to the front.

“I can help, Y/N. You know I can. If you let me into your mind, I can find the block. I can show you how to… guide it. It may take a few tries, but Y/N, anything is better than this.” Wanda tried to reason.

“No. I can’t control it,” Y/N whispered. “I can’t let myself hurt you guys. I’ve done enough. Put. Me. In. Containment.”

~~

It took every ounce of restraint that James Buchanan Barnes had in his body not to leap off the plane the moment he landed. He shoved agents aside as he ran off the tarmac and barrelled through the doors. Steve tried to intercept him as he stepped off the elevator to the residential levels, but Bucky expertly avoided his outstretched hand.

“Buck, there’s something you should know first.”

“I’m going to see her.” He made a sharp left, heading for medical. By this point, other members of the team had caught up.

“You won’t find her there.” Wanda’s words made the super-soldier freeze. With deathly focus, he spun slowly on his heel.

“What do you mean?” The question came out more as more of a growl than words.

“She’s in containment holding,” Natasha answered through a grimace.

Bucky stilled, and the rage that fell over his features was murderous. He whispered, with deadly calm, “You put her in lockup?”

“Barnes it wasn’t like that,” Tony tried to explain. “She--”

“You took her out of one cell and put her right back into another. I got her out of one prison and you all sat her right back in one.” His chest began heaving as his voice raised. “Is that what you did? She needs help, and you locked her away.”

“Barnes, what they did to her-- they experimented on her, and she’s not the same.” Steve put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, but Bucky whirled and jabbed a metal finger in his face.

“You. You didn’t tell me. You knew and didn’t tell me she was locked away, that you put her in some jail cell of a room and called it a kindness.”

“I didn’t know until I landed back here.”

Bucky’s nostrils flared. “Take me to her or I swear to God, I’ll give you a real monster to chain up and put away.”

~~

"Y/N?"

Y/N's head snapped up at the sound of her name. On the other side of the glass cage, there stood the one person she was really missing. "Bucky," she breathed.

"I'm gonna get them to open the door," he promised. "I'll get you out of this."

"Bucky, I--"

"I'll get it open then we can talk about what happened and we can get you help and--"

"It's locked from the inside."

He froze. "What?"

"Buck, I've got to be in here. I don't know what they did to me, but I can't hurt you guys."

"Whatever it is, it can't be that bad. Doll, I need you to let me in. Open the door for me."

"No, Barnes, I can't hurt you too."

He felt his heart break a little. "Doll, you gotta let me in, I need to see you."

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"Yes, Ms. Y/N?" The automated system replied. If it were possible for a robot to have pity in their voice, it was there. The devastation was clear on Bucky's face as his eyes shined with some heartbreaking emotion that couldn't quite be labeled.

"Call Steve, tell him I need him to get Bucky." Before the automated system could do as she asked, she turned to the 106-year-old man with his metal fist pressed against the glass. "I'm sorry. I have to make sure you're safe."

~~

Bucky spent days waiting for Y/N to come out. At some point, during the first day, as he was arguing with Steve, Y/N had commanded F.R.I.D.A.Y. to turn the walls opaque, thus limiting anyone's visibility of herself.

She knew Bucky wouldn't give up so easily, which made it all the more heartbreakingly endearing when little notes started coming along with her meal trays. Sometimes they were short messages, like:

Hope your day is going okay

I know you want space, but we live in a glorified dorm so…

Or her personal favorite,

I miss you. We all do, but I miss you the most.

Other times, he left long-winded messages of the day's accounts, making sure to tell Y/N about all the times Sam 'tripped' and face-planted in the kitchen. They always ended the same.

I’m waiting for you, whenever you’re ready to come out. -B

So when she wrote back on the third day, leaving the note atop the same dish it came in on, James Barnes was ecstatic.

Can we talk?

Three words had never left the supersoldier so elated, except maybe when he was told the triggers were removed. He sprinted back to the solitary halls, almost tripping over himself when he saw that she’d cleared the walls again, allowing him to see her clearly.

“Y/N.” Her name was a gentle whisper on his lips, but it speared through the silence she’d experienced for the past three days like a battle cry.

“Hi Buck,” she breathed.

“Can I come in?”

She hesitated. “What if I hurt you?’’

“You could never hurt me.”

Y/N didn’t seem convinced.

“Doll, I know what it’s like to wake up and have been experimented on. I know how much it hurts, having this… thing… that you didn’t ask for. But we have to live with it. HYDRA took so much of my own life from me. Don’t let them take it from you too.”

He watched as she took a deep breath. Then, “You can come in.”

It took all his self-control not to run to the door the moment she said the words. One steadying breath later, he was crossing the threshold, entering the prison that Y/N had made into her home.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

The woman scanned all around the room, suddenly hyper-aware of her surroundings. Bucky wasn’t looking at anything but her.

“Sorry about the mess.” She flitted from place to place, hastily cleaning up. “I didn’t think to--”

“Y/N.” His voice made her stop in her tracks. Slowly, she turned to face him. Meeting his eyes, her resolve broke. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she flung herself into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled. “It’s too much, I can’t control it.” Tucking her face into the crook of his neck, she felt his arms come up, one hand finding a home around her waist and the other cradling the back of her head.

“You’re okay,” he soothed. “We can figure this out, you’ll be okay.”

"I don't know what to do, Buck." Her whimper broke his heart.

"You can't be alone right now, doll. It's not doing anything but scaring you. We'll figure out how to control it. But isolating yourself is just gonna make it hurt more." His eyes begged her to understand. Could she? Could she see how this was hurting her?

Y/N bit her lip, thinking about what he said. She broke away, eyes fixating on a spot on the floor. Was that burn mark there before? "I can't tell sometimes. That I'm back home. I have flashbacks, and it convinces me I'm still there. Still being poked and prodded, still being someone’s science project. It paralyzes me. And I have these, these--” she struggled to find the words. “These powers now that I never wanted, never asked for. I don’t know how to manage them, and the thought that I could hurt you, or anyone else-- I can’t take that risk.”

“Y/N, you locking yourself away is hurting me more than your hands ever could.” He carefully held her face in his hands, thumbing away a tear that started falling. “I know I can never fully understand, but I think I understand better than you think I do and probably better than anyone else here.”

It wasn’t until she looked up at him, met his eyes, that he realized just how dark her under-eyes were.

“Jesus, doll. Don’t take this the wrong way, but when the hell was the last time you slept?”

Y/N let out a half-chuckle. “Not medically induced? Probably too long ago.” She carefully eyed his reaction.

“You need sleep, Y/N,” Bucky chided, taking her hand in his. “You’ve been through so much recently, you have to let yourself rest too.”

Y/N paused haltingly. “Will… will you still be here when I wake up?”

The soldier smiled softly. “As long as you want me here.”

She nodded as if to herself. “Okay. Okay then. I- I can’t wake up alone again.”

“You won’t,” he insisted. “I’ll be here, I promise. I won’t leave you.”

~~

Y/N talked in her sleep. That was something Bucky had always known, from the sleepless nights he’d pace up and down the halls and hear drowsy half-conversations from the other side of her door.

This wasn’t like that.

Y/N tossed her head, writhing as if in pain while mumbling quiet no’s. Bucky did his best to bear it, to try to let her sleep through it, thinking maybe it would end in the next few seconds. Ten minutes and she still hasn’t stopped twisting, sweat gathering on her brow as she fought off invisible restraints.

“Again,” the man in the lab coat insisted.

“I can’t,” she rebutted. She stared down the bullseye target pinned against the far wall, her fingertips outstretched towards it. A scorch mark lined the outer edges of the paper.

“Strike the target,” the handler hissed, “or the target will strike you.”

All at once, the paper target morphed into a silhouette, a man’s body that she’d know anywhere.

“I won’t.” The words this time were more severe, more intentional.

The wrong answer.

Without a cue, the Winter Soldier snapped into action.

“B-bucky,” she whimpered. “Please, stop, Buck no.”

The airy words broke the man’s heart. How could he let her dream on, if he was the one causing this fictional hurt?

“Y/N,” he tried. “Doll, wake up.” His flesh hand moved to her face, brushing strands of damp hair away from her eyes. “Can you hear me?”

Blow after blow landed, and she couldn’t feel anything but the raging fire inside her.

“Bucky,” she breathed. “I don’t wanna hurt you. Please, stop.” The words were disrupted by grunts of pain, and when he wound up for the next punch, the dam broke.

His metal hand reached to grab her shoulder, and that’s when the sparks flew. Pain was the only thing he could register as lightning coursed through the artificial appendage and made its way to the rest of his body. Tendrils of electricity danced across the vibranium fingers he could no longer control. The arm glitched and contorted, and he could almost feel the nerves fraying as the electronics fried.

“Y/N!” he shouted. The pain was nearly unbearable, but he wouldn’t -- couldn’t stop until he made sure Y/N was okay. Sparks jetted out in every direction as lightning struck every nearby object, but Bucky focused all his attention on her.

Her eyes snapped open, and everything stopped. The electricity vanished, and Bucky was guilty to find himself breathing a sigh of relief.

“Buck?” He heard her call out, but she just seemed so far away.

“You alright, doll?” He managed to mumble before the darkness swept over everything.

Y/N watched in horror as his knees seemed to give out from under him.

“James!” She screamed, kicking off the blankets and rushing to his collapsed form. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., get somebody down here!” More quietly, then, to Barnes, “What happened, Buck?”

She held his face in her hands but quickly ceased all contact when she saw it. Sparks still lingered around the fingers of his left hand. She glanced down in disgust at her own hands as she rushed to stand, pushing herself to the furthest corner of the room, eyes fixed on his crumpled shape on the floor by her bed. “I did this,” she breathed. “I did this, I did this, it was me, I did it.”

Y/N didn’t even register the sound of the door opening, the thoughts playing all too loudly in her mind as Steve Rogers and Tony Stark crowded into the room and immediately rushed to their fallen teammate. It wasn’t until red mist coated her vision that Y/N began to see clearly. Wanda sat in front of her, blocking her view of the scene. Without a word, the witch beckoned Y/N into a tight embrace. “Wanda, it’s all my fault,” she whimpered as she wrapped herself tightly around her friend. “I couldn’t-- I didn’t mean to, but I--”

“Y/N, you’re having a panic attack. Breathe for me, okay? In and out.” The Sokovian took a deep breath in, waiting for her teammate to mimic her actions before exhaling. In, hold, out. IN, hold, out.

“Okay, Y/N, are you with me? Name me five things you can see.”

“The-the burns,” Y/N mumbled, eyes fixating on the scorched black floors before searching the room again. “The blankets on the floor. You. Tony.” She peeked over Wanda’s shoulder to see the Captain exiting the room, carrying something-- someone away. “Steve, oh my god he’s--” Talons of dark emotion wrenched at her chest, restricting her lungs and making it hard to breathe.

Wanda gently tapped a finger against Y/N’s chin, redirecting her attention. “Four things you can feel.”

Y/N took a deep inhale through her nose. “The floor, the air conditioning. The scratchiness of this shirt.” She took a moment to consider. “Your hand on my wrist.”

“Good, good. Three you can hear?”

“Tony’s suit as he moves.” She shut her eyes to focus. The panic was there, but starting to subside. “The fan blowing. The hum of electricity.”

“Awesome, two you can smell?”

Her stomach dropped and her eyes opened, filled with worry. “Blood and smoke.”

Wanda did her best to hide her wince. “And one that you can taste?”

She considered for a moment. “Bile?” she finally answered, worry traced across her brow.

“You did good,” Wanda soothed. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I knew this would happen,” Y/N sniffled. “I let myself relax, felt the shock of everything finally wear off, and let myself sleep and I-- I had a nightmare. And my body-- I couldn’t help it. It just… happened.”

“I know, I know love,” Wanda soothed, bringing Y/N’s head to again rest against her shoulder, ignoring the static electricity buzzing against her skin. “I know you’d never do it on purpose. We all know.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Y/N breathed. “I could hurt you, all of you.” Nevertheless, she couldn’t find it in herself to push away the physical contact she’d been craving since this all began. Wanda simply hushed the girl, holding her close and comforting her the best she could.

“Go inside my head,” Y/N whispered, forehead pressed into the crook of her neck. “Fix it, do whatever you can. I can’t do this.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N couldn’t see it, but she could hear as Wanda’s voice cracked that the tears must be starting. Pity, she supposed it must be.

“You said ‘anything is better than this.’ Make it right.” Y/N lifted her head and met the Witch’s eyes, sparkling with the beginnings of tears. “Help me control it.”

Y/N’s vision was overtaken by red as Wanda worked her way into her head. The last thought she had before slipping into the full grasp of her teammate was of Bucky; his smile, and how she prayed she could see it again.

~~

A heart monitor. An IV. The clasp of a pulse oximeter on his right index finger. All things he was aware of as he awoke, but what grasped his attention the most was the disturbing lack of a left arm.

Wearily, he opened his eyes and was met with the basic medbay rooms he was all too familiar with. The window blinds were opened just enough to cast a sliver of light directly into his eyes. When he went to lift his hand to shield the light, he found an unmoving pressure situated against his right side.

There she was. Beautiful and perfect as ever, and out of solitary. He was suddenly aware, once again, that he didn’t have a left hand to push away the fallen strands of hair from her face.

“Y/N,” he breathed, trying to shake the hand she clutched so tightly.

Groggily, she lifted her head. Her mouth opened in a silent yawn, but when her eyes fell on Bucky’s open blue ones, it felt like time stopped for her. “Buck,” she whispered as she joolted to her feet.

“Y/N.” He started tearing up.

Oh god, he was tearing up. Was he scared of her now? Did she ruin something she never even had the bravery to start? Was he mentally bracing for another shockwave to hit him, to bring him to his knees?

“I’m sorry,” she began, water beginning to pool in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to, it was an accident and oh my god, I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you, Bucky, you have to know that. I couldn’t help it and-- oh my god your arm, I’m so sorry. Tony’s working on it now, but I don’t know if he even can fix it. If you never wanna see me again--”

“Doll.”

“--that’s fine, I just had to know you were okay, that I didn’t k-kill you or anything.” Tears began falling, not just on her face, but on the soldier’s as well. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can ever say it enough--”

“Doll.”

“-- you just tried to help and I hurt you and I don’t think I can ever--”

“Y/N.”

She froze as he gently moved his hand out of her grasp, bringing it to cradle her cheek.

“I’m just glad that you’re okay, that you’re out here.” He squeezed her hand softly as his eyes positively sparkled with unspoken words.

“But I hurt you. I-I physically hurt you,” she whispered, dropping her gaze.

“I would do it a thousand times over if I could save you the pain of what happened. In a heartbeat.”

“Why?” She demanded, meeting his gaze. “Why do you keep putting yourself in danger for me? Steve--” she faltered. At his encouraging look, she continued. “Steve told me about those weeks. About your … nights in Madripoor. You hunted them all, could have gotten yourself killed. Why?”

“Sweetheart,” he breathed. “I found them so that you wouldn’t have to worry about them finding you. I did it so that you’d never have to spend a night awake, worrying about if they could find you and take you back. I found them so you might be able to sleep at night. You may think me a monster for it, but I needed you to know you were safe.”

“Why, James?” She needed to hear it. The tears were already streaming down her face, but she needed to hear it.

“Because I love you, darlin’. And I’d do anything to be sure you never have to hurt like that again.”

The floor felt swept out from under her, but somehow she remained standing as she asked “Why me?”

“You are so… good.” Tears fell from blue eyes as he struggled to find the words. “You never treated me differently, when even Steve did. You donate to shelters and find homes for stray kittens and never say no when a kid wants a picture with you. You are the best person I know and you deserve a happiness that this life could never provide. I want to keep you smiling forever, and selfishly, I want to be the reason you smile. I want to see your shining eyes every day for the rest of my life. I love you, Y/N, and I won’t let you lock yourself away from me, not when I need you.”

“I’m broken,” she mumbled. “Wanda had to put a block in my mind for me to even be here. I don’t think anything short of Wakandan technology can help me, maybe not even that.”

“You’re not broken,” he insisted. “You were tortured. It’s not okay, what happened to you. But you are still Y/N, you are still the person who makes me coffee even though you hate the smell of it. You still think of everyone else before yourself, no matter how much you shouldn’t. You are still the person who I love, irrevocably and unconditionally.”

“I love you too.” The words were nearly silent, but hung like a shout between them. “I have for a while. Since Germany, I think.”

This was not the place Bucky had imagined telling her he loved her. He’d pictured a midnight walk through the woods, an open clearing with a perfect view of the night sky. He’d imagined her eyes would shine brighter than any star in the sky as he told her he loved her to the moon and back, wrapped in his arms. Instead it would be here, where he only has one arm and a thousand wires hooked into him, plugging him into various monitors that were likely keeping him alive.

“Go to Wakanda,” he urged. “If you think that will help you. I know how you’re feeling right now. Do what you need to do to feel comfortable in your own skin again. I promise you, doll, I’ll be right here waiting for you when you come back.”

She couldn't help but throw her arms around him, her body molding to his, craving his touch more than oxygen. “Do you promise?’

He never thought he’d miss the feeling of the metal limb, but damn if he didn’t wish he could snake his arms around her and pull her impossibly closer. He settled for wrapping his right arm around her waist, tugging her form down to lay basically on top of him.

“I meant what I said when you were down there. I’ll always be waiting for you, whenever you’re ready, as long as you’ll have me. As long as you want me.”

“Even though I fucked up your arm?” her fingers nervously toyed with his dog tags.

He let out a gentle chuckle. “Nothing-- and I mean nothing-- could stop me from loving you.”

She let out a smile, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. This, she thought, is what she really needed. This is what she wanted. She could feel the sparks tingling under her fingertips, but she pushed the thought away as she inhaled deeply. Bucky. Bucky was what she needed. This was all she could ever need; the safety and comfort of being with him.

“Although the arm thing, that is a bit of a setback--”

“Oh my god.”

~~

a/n pt2 - this, I realized as I wrote, is very much inspired by @wkemeup, who has not one single bad fic on their masterlist !! this was very much inspired by: Sacrifice, Flight Risk, and No Control. it wasn't intentional, but definitely recognized along the way. if you have a chance, be sure to check out her page!! always amazing <3 <3

Masterlist Found Here

[meganwritesfanfics]

With Arms Wide Open (Dean Winchester x Reader) Part 1

More John Winchester hate. This time in a full story version. 

None of them were quite sure how it happened. One moment they were hot on the trail of yellow eyes, and the next moment, Y/N, Dean, Sam and John were waking up in an abandoned building hands tied above their heads. Fear was sinking into all of them as they weighed the options of how they could possibly get out, but no one was more afraid than Y/N, especially knowing that she had a secret, one that could change everything. 

“You know, I really thought you guys would put up much more of a fight. This was just too damn easy.” A voice chuckled as yellow eyes strayed into the room. 

Y/N and Sam were on one wall and Dean and John were on the other. Across the room Y/N stared at Dean eyes wide. Y/N and Dean had been together since high school, and hunting together since before then. Y/N was the only person Dean really considered to be his friend growing up, and as they grew up those feelings of friendship morphed into something else. He couldn’t imagine his life without her, she was a badass hunter who was absolutely gorgeous, but more than that she was caring and kind, and she could out sass the hunter any day. He loved her. So much so that he actually considered giving up hunting to give her an “apple pie” kind of life. But now in the situation they found themself in, he was afraid that would never happen. 

“It wasn’t even fun.” Yellow eyes pouted as he walked around smirking at the group. “But I know something that will make this much more interesting.” 

Everyone was struggling at their binds as Azazel inched closer to John. 

“Don’t!” Dean screamed. 

“Oh don’t worry Dean-o. My plan involves you too.” 

Y/N could feel her wrists getting irritated by the ropes, trying her best to pull her self free, but she knew it was useless.

“Now John, I have a deal for you.” 

“Why would I ever make a deal with you.” John snarled. 

“You are going to change your turn once you hear what I am offering. I am offering to bring Mary back.” 

The silence that fell over the room was deafening. John and the boys all looked shocked with a slight hint of concern. But Y/N, she looked terrified. 

She knew that John would take that deal no matter what the consequences were, and Azazel had said Dean was a part of the deal as well, so she knew what he wanted. 

“What are the terms!” Y/N snapped trying to get John to think before he acted but she could see he was already thinking. 

“I bring Mary back. Your precious wife and mother of your children.” Azazel whispered closer to John luring him deeper into the deal. “In exchange, I get Dean.” 

Y/N’s stomach dropped. 

“No!” Sam screamed but John said nothing. Dean’s eyes immediately looked over locking with Y/N’s giving her a sad look. 

“Don’t you dare John,” Y/N snapped. “Don’t you fucking dare!” 

“This is not your decision to make Y/N.” Azazel said as he came over and grabbed her face in his hands. 

She spat at him which only earned her a slap across the face. 

“She isn’t a part of this, leave her alone.” Dean screamed as tears began to well up in his eyes. 

Azazel smiled as he turned back to the eldest brother. 

“She started it, you sure picked a feisty one.” He sneered as he turned back to look at John. “Now Johnny, this is a limited time offer so the clock is ticking. You need to decide.” 

“Dad,” Dean’s voice cracked hard he couldn’t believe his father was actually considering this deal. 

“Dad don’t!” Sam screamed as he cried. 

Y/N was spiraling. She couldn’t lose Dean, she couldn’t, he was her whole world. And now with the secret she had, he couldn’t leave her. Her mind was racing as she tried to figure out any possible way to stop John from taking this deal. 

“Take me instead!” Y/N screamed before she even fully thought about what she was saying. 

“Y/N, no!” Dean snapped as he pulled even harder at the restraints. 

Azazel turned back to look at her amused. “Now why would I want you, you are nothing special, you are just Dean’s fuck buddy. You are no Winchester.” 

Y/N sighed tears streaming down her face as she avoided looking at Dean. 

“No I’m not, but I am carrying a Winchester inside of me.” Y/N said, silencing the room once more. 

“Wha...What?” Dean stuttered. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Azazel’s expression changed to a serious one as he snapped his fingers and Y/N was released from the restraints as she landed on the ground. 

Slowly yellow eyes inched his way towards her, she quickly scrambled for her gun but he was on her before she had a chance. He wrapped his hand around her throat lifting her off the ground. “If you are lying I will end you right now.” He screamed as he roughly placed his hand on her stomach digging his fingers into her skin. He held her like that for a moment as she struggled to breath before finally he dropped her to the ground laughing. 

“This is the best trade I could have possibly asked for. Making sure that the Winchester line doesn’t continue, and killing Dean’s love right in front of him. Do we have a deal Y/N?” 

“Yes.” Y/N sobbed as she stared down at the ground sobbing. 

“No!” Dean cried and everyone heard as the wooden beam Dean was tied to cracked as he pulled on the rope. 

“Now John, aren’t you proud of this beautiful girl here.” Azazel grabbed her face again dragging her over to John. “She is willing to sacrifice herself and her unborn child all so that your son wouldn’t die so you could get your wife back.” 

“Y/N I…” John started but he didn’t have anything to say, he just looked down at the ground ashamed. 

“Well, Y/N might as well say your goodbyes to your precious Dean.” Azazel threw her to the ground at Dean’s feet. “I will give you a moment but if there is any funny business I will kill everyone in this room.” 

“Dean,” Y/N bolted to her feet wrapped her arms around her crying into his chest. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t do this, I need you Y/N.” Y/N could feel his tears falling into her hair. 

“Everything is going to be alright Dean, I promise. I love you so very much.” 

Y/N quickly turned around glaring at John as she did so. 

“Oh no no I want Dean to watch your pain.” Azazel spun her around. “I want him to see the love of his life and mother of his unborn child in agony.” 

“Don’t you dare touch her, I won’t stop, I won’t stop hunting you, and when I find you I will destroy you.” Dean screamed his voice so deep it sounded as if he was growling. 

Y/N held her breath as she waited for the pain to come but it didn't. Instead all she heard was Azazel laughing. 

“God, you are all so stupid. Did you really think I would bring Mary back?” 

“What?” Y/N asked as she turned back to face him. “We made a deal you can’t…” 

Azazel smacked Y/N across the face hard enough that it sent her to the ground. 

“I can do whatever I want!” He screamed. “That being said, I will be back for you and your baby in about nine months, how does that sound.” 

“No!” Both Dean and Y/N screamed. Y/N bolted to her feet grabbing her gun. The minute she fired she was thrown backwards into the wall. The wind was knocked out of her and she lay on the floor gasping. 

“See you all soon!” Azazel laughed and then he vanished and everyone’s restraints fell away.

[mypoisonedvine]

uhh idk what time zone you’re in but it’s Saturday evening for me, sorry if this isn’t the right time! but could I request a Zemo x reader fic where he drags you with him when he escapes through the tunnel, claiming you’re there for leverage and definitely not bc of any feelings he may have?

asjgh yes you absolutely can request that omg, watch out for soft!dark zemo under the cut with some mild violence but nothing too intense

“Let go of me!” you screeched, kicking and clawing to try to get out of his grasp.  Damn him for being so strong that all your fight was no match to him holding you with just one arm, dragging you through his secret escape route.  Downsides of being the ‘tech guy’ on Sam and Bucky’s makeshift team was you had no real way to fight back.  Hacking definitely wasn’t going to get you out of this one.

“I won’t let you go, so please just stop screaming,” he hissed.  “It’s irritating.  I’d hate to stop to gag you.”

That got you to shut up, though you couldn’t keep totally quiet as you started to cry, little sobs and sniffles echoing around the tunnel.  He stopped in his tracks when he heard you, lifting you up and pinning you to the wall with a growl.  “Are you crying?!”

“Yes, Zemo, I’m scared.  I thought we were... maybe not friends, but at least hesitant allies.  And now I don’t know why you took me...”

“For leverage,” he insisted.  “James has a soft spot for you, Sam sees you as a protégé.  They would not have me imprisoned until they knew you were safe.”

“Will I be safe?” you asked softly.

“I would never do anything to hurt you,” he sighed, “tonight notwithstanding.  Trust me, you’ll be better off from now on.”

“Better off as your hostage?”

“It’s your choice if you’re a hostage or not.  If you come willingly then you could be my... companion,” he shrugged.

“Companion?” you repeated incredulously.  “Zemo, are you suggesting that you took me because you think something could ever happen between us?”

His jaw tightened and his gaze darted away, and you laughed hoarsely.

“You can’t be serious.  If I ever felt anything for you, it was thoroughly soiled by you taking me at gunpoint and dragging me down here, calling me your leverage--”

“Stop talking,” he hissed, pushing down harder on your chest until you couldn’t breathe quite as well.  “I saw the way you looked at me.  You wanted this.  But you were too afraid to admit it, even to yourself-- can’t you see I’m trying to help you?  If you just relaxed and listened to me you would realize how kind I can be.”

“If this is your idea of romance, I don’t want to be anywhere near your kindness,” you rolled your eyes.

“This is not my idea of romance, darling.  If you start behaving now, you can find out what it really is.  Or, you can keep the attitude and find out about my idea of silencing noisy captives.”

You swallowed and decided to cut your losses, nodding slightly.

“So you’ll be good and quiet then?” he assumed, and you nodded again.  He let go of you and you found your balance again, walking alongside him now.

He wasn’t wrong about the way you looked at him, but that was before, when you thought he might have really changed.  You should’ve known better, that was obvious now, but what was so odd was how you found yourself more excited about being with him a bit longer than about being rescued by Sam and Bucky.

Who knows?  Maybe if you were lucky, they wouldn’t come for you at all.

[let-me-luve-you]

Crushed

Tom Holland x Twin!Sister

Summary: Reader has a crush on Harrison, but he brings home his new girlfriend

Warnings: Heartbreak, angst, feelings not reciprocated

A/N: This might be my last fic for a little bit. I’m working on me, but I do get random motivation to write and I like to take advantage of it and write when I’m in the mood. Please don’t ask me when I’ll have another fic out. 

MASTERLIST     BUY ME A COFFEE    REDBUBBLE

When Tom brought Harrison home to hangout for the first time, you immediately had a crush. Over the years, you kept your feelings to yourself, but the intensity grew. You loved Harrison. You never told your twin brother and best friend, Tom. Harrison was your friend. He would hate you if he knew your true feelings.

Lately, Harrison has been acting more shy and sweet around you. He would text you everyday to check up on you while he was in France for a fashion show. With Harrison acting like that, you thought maybe he finally had feelings for you. So today, when Tom came into your room to tell you Harrison was back in town, you decided then that you would tell him how you feel.

Tom told you tonight you would be going for dinner and drinks with Harrison as well as Sam and Harryl. So you spent the day getting ready. You didn’t want it to look like you were trying too hard, but you wanted to look your best. Look good, feel good type of thing.

As you were getting ready to leave your bedroom, you heard Harrison greet Tom. You smiled as you listened to their banter. You walked down the hall to the living room to see Harrison’s back. You smiled as he turned to you.

“Y/N!” Harrison yelled as he came over to give you a hug. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good. Just ready for a good night with good people.” You said with a wink. He laughed. You noticed a woman come stand next to Harrison. Harrison wrapped his arm around her shoulder. You felt your heart fall.

“Y/N, this is Grace. My girlfriend. Grace, this is Y/N, Tom’s little sister.” Harrison said. You faked a smile and said hello to her.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said trying to hold in all emotions. Your heart was broken. Tom looked over at you concerned when he heard your tone change. You ignored him and continued to smile at the couple.

“Y/N I’ve heard a lot of good things about you. Harrison just adores you like you are his own sister.” Grace said. You felt like you had been stabbed in the heart.

“Should we head out? I'm getting hungry?” You said with a fake laugh.

“Let’s go.” Harrison said, guiding Grace to his car. “Y/N come ride with us.” Harrison yelled as he opened the back door for you. You nodded and moved to the car. After you got in and shut the door, you looked over to see Tom climbing in as well.

“Hope you don’t mind. Harry said he’s swinging by to grab Sam and Pads.” Tom said.

“Not at all.” Harrison smiled before driving off. You sat there quiet. You knew Tom knew something was up but you chose to ignore him. Grace and Harrison talked most of the ride anyways, so the need to input anything never occurred.

After getting to the restaurant and ordering drinks, you finally broke your silence, “so how long have you two been together?” You asked. You looked over at Harrison and noticed him shift uncomfortably.

“Unofficially, it’s been five months, officially it’s been four.” Grace answered and smiled at Haz. You froze. That’s when you noticed him acting different around you. You shook yourself out of thought and smiled at them. “I’m so happy for you.” You said.

Dinner was fine. You felt awkward the whole time since they were still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship and were constantly doing cutesy stuff and touching each other's arms or holding hands. When you finally arrived home, your chest felt so tight that you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You thanked Harrison and Grace for dinner before you ran off to your room. You locked it before burying yourself in your bed. You were trying to get your breathing under control and to hold back the tears. No boy was worth your tears. Not even stupid, adorable blonde ones.

You heard a knock on your door but chose to ignore it. You heard the knob jiggle and a soft grunt. Next thing you know, Tom is right there beside you pulling you into a hug. Before you broke down, you saw Harry and Sam standing at the edge of the bed.

“It’s not fair.” You sobbed as you turned into Tom’s chest. Tom squeezed you tighter and closed his eyes. It hurt him so much to see his twin in so much pain. He shushed you as he ran his hand up and down your back. Once you finally calmed down enough, Tom pulled you away from his chest, “what isn’t fair?”

“Life. Love. Everything.” You said as you pulled away to lay down with your back to your brothers. Tom wasn’t having it and turned you back around to look at him. You scoffed, but sat up and leaned against the headboard, holding the Spider-Man bear Tom gave you when he left to film Civil War.

“Tell us what happened? Because you were so excited to see Harrison and then all of a sudden you were acting like you didn’t want to be anywhere near him.” Sam said.

“I.. I was going to tell him how I felt about him today.” You felt tears at the back of your eyes again. Tom pulled you back into a hug.

“How do you feel about him?” Harry asked softly.

“I love him.” You said before crying even harder. Tom looked back to Sam and Harry with shocked eyes. Tom had told you about the times he was in love, but you’ve never spoken once about love.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. “Did something happen between you? Did he try to date you and then get with Grace?”

You continued to cry. You couldn’t catch your breath long enough to try to stop crying. Tom kissed the top of your head as he rubbed up and down your back. “It’s okay y/n. Try to breathe for me. Try to calm down for me. I don’t want you to make yourself sick.” Tom said gently.

You took a few minutes focusing on Tom’s breathing and heartbeat. Trying to match yours to his. After finally calming down enough to talk, you were so exhausted. You kept your head on Tom’s chest and stayed hugging him as you finally started to tell your brothers everything.

“I’ve always had a crush on him. Then recently he started acting nicer to me. Not that he wasn’t before, but it felt different. He was also acting shy. I just got it in my head that he liked me too. So while he was gone, I worked on my confidence. When Tom said he was coming home, I figured why not tell him and get it over with. Then he introduced me to Grace.” You sighed. “Did you guys know?”

You felt Tom tense before whispering, “yes.” You nodded your head as you heard Harry agree with Tom and Sam say “no.”

“If I knew how you felt, I would have told you. Harrison didn’t really want to tell anyone yet. He wanted to see if it was going to work out. And he wanted to keep it from fans for a little while.” Tom said.

“I get it.” You said pulling away from Tom to lay down on your bed. You grabbed the Spider-Man bear again. “Love sucks. But I’ll get over it. If he’s happy with her, then I’m happy for him. I’m not going to sabotage it or anything.”

“That’s good to know.” Tom laughed. Sam and Harry each gave you a kiss on the head before leaving the room. “Really, are you okay?”

“No, but I will be.” You said honestly. Tom laid down beside you and grabbed the bear from you.

“I can’t believe you still have this.” Tom said with almost disbelief.

“Why would I get rid of it?” You asked him.

“I don’t know. Figured you would have put it in a box or gave it away. I got this as a joke since you said I probably didn’t actually get the part since Sony had been hacked.” Tom laughed at the memory.

“I love my bear. He’s the one I run to for comfort. Especially when I miss you when you're gone.” You said.

“I’m glad you have it.” He turned and smiled at you. He looked at your tear struck face and red, puffy eyes. He felt bad. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you about Grace.”

“It’s okay.” You whispered and looked down.

“If you ever feel like you need to talk, I’m here to listen. Always. I’ll never judge you.” He said.

“I was just afraid you would get mad at me since he was your best friend.” You said.

“Never.” He said, making you look at him. “I might have been upset, but I would never get mad at you or hate you for your feelings. Heck I dated someone you would occasionally hang out with.”

“I forgot about that.” You laughed.

“So never be afraid of me or my reaction. I’ll always try not to overreact.” He said. “If you want, I can tell Haz not to bring Grace over for a bit. That way you don’t have to see them together.”

“No, it’s okay. It’ll hurt for a bit, but maybe it’ll help me get over my crush.” You said.

“If you change your mind, let me know. I won’t tell him why she can’t come, but I’ll tell him.” Tom said. You smiled at him. “Now, do you want to watch a movie?”

“Gifted?” You asked sheepishly.

“Next time I see Chris, I’m telling him you are obsessed with him.” Tom taunted.

“NO!” You yelled. “I haven’t even met him yet. At least let me meet him before you embarrass me.”

“Okay, okay. Next time I know I’m going to see him, I’ll bring you with me. Then while you're standing right there, I’ll tell him.” You rolled your eyes as Tom laughed.

[superbadassnatural]

One Last Fight

Summary: The hunt goes wrong, and Sam finds himself unable to stop the inevitable. Square filled: Blood Pairing: Sam x Reader Word count: 764 Warnings: character death, blood, angst A/N: this was written for @spndarkbingo​. Please, enjoy!

(x)

A gasp echoed within the concrete walls of the warehouse. Your eyes widened and dipped to the knife buried between your ribs. You whimpered, looking up at the demon as a devilish smirk spread on her lips.

Sam’s head whipped in your direction. His heart nearly stopped as panic settled in his mind.

“No,” a scream cut its way past his lips. He rushed to you, legs moving on their own as his grip on the demon blade tightened. “No, no, no, no.”

The woman pulled the knife, its dents ripping your skin even further. You gasped. Before your knees could meet the ground, the demonic eyes glowed an orange hue as Sam plunged the blade into the back of the demon’s head.

Your hand clutched to your wound, fingers clasping the ripped skin. Your legs started to falter. Sam’s arms were quick to wrap around you and not let you fall. He lowered you to the ground slowly. Tears welled in your eyes when the metallic taste of blood hit your tongue.

“Hey, hey,” Sam called, his hand pressing to your wound. “Stay with me, okay? Stay with me.”

Small ragged gasps left your throat as the airway closed. One of your hands flew to your neck, nails clawing at your skin, and the other to Sam’s arm, fingers biting into the fabric of his flannel. You panicked. Blood started dripping from the corner of your mouth as you spluttered.

“No, no, no, no,” his eyes lifted from the injury to your face. He blinked back his tears. “You’re not dying on me. You are not dying on me.”

The blood gushed rapidly, in time with your heartbeat. The more you panicked, the more it flowed. It came thick and warm against his hand, his finger coated in red. He pressed harder, trying to stop the bleeding.

Your body convulsed as you tried hard to breathe. You couldn’t die. Not now. Not like this. This couldn’t be your last hunt. This couldn’t be the last time you were seeing Sam.

Tears coursed down your face. You spluttered, your own blood suffocating you.

Everything moved in slow motion before Sam’s eyes. He saw as you fought to breathe. The sounds of your suffocated gasps and splutters echoed in his ears. There was nothing else but you in his arms. Sam didn’t hear his brother desperately praying for help. He didn’t see Dean on his knees in front of him, fear all over his features. His solemn focus was on you.

The convulsions started to cease slowly. The blood didn’t come in red jets anymore. It came in a constant flow against Sam’s palm. He knew it wasn’t stopping because of the pressure he was applying. No. Your heart was stopping. It didn’t have enough strength nor blood to pump through your veins to keep you alive. It was failing.

Your hand fell on top of his, giving it a faint squeeze before laying limp. Sam sobbed. Your eyes became dull as your mouth hung open in a small circle. A single tear rolled down the side of your face.

“No,” Sam cried. “Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.”

His large hands cradled your face. The scarlet blood on his palm stained your skin. His thumb stroked your cheek as he sobbed.

“Come back to me, please.”

He closed your eyes, and his heart shattered in his chest.

“Sammy,” Dean’s hoarse voice called for his brother, his hand resting on his arm. Sam glanced up to his big brother. Dean would fix this.

“We need to bring her back,” he said adamantly. “I need to do something. I have to bring her back.”

“Sammy, no,” Dean shook his head, silently pleading. “I can’t lose you, man. You know it never ends well.”

“I don’t care what happens to me.”

“Well, I do,” the hunter wiped his tears. “I can’t lose you. I won’t let you throw your life away. I can’t let you do that.”

“Dean, I need to bring her back,” Sam cried.

“You think she’d want that? She’d want you to give up your life so she could live? She wouldn’t want that. She’d want you to carry on.”

“We need to try something. There’s always another way.”

Dean couldn’t stand seeing his brother suffering. It broke him to see Sam that way.

“We can try something, okay?” Dean said, hand running through his hair. “But I won’t lose you in the process, Sam. I won’t. You have to promise me that.”

Sam sighed, biting his bottom lip and nodding. “I promise.”

Please, consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog or ask! I’d love to know what you think of this one.

Hunters: @hobby27 @thewinchesterandreidwhore @tatted-trina6 @doozywoozy @mogaruke @babypink224221 @leah-winchester6-blog-blog @deascheck 

Sam’s Babes: @maya-craziness @chrissylexi @danneelsmain​ @samwinchesterjaredjensen   @percywinchester27 @deascheck 

[idreamofplaid]

Stronger

Square Filled: Sung to Sleep for @spnfluffbingo & Hurt/Comfort for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo

Characters: Moc!Dean x Reader; Sam and Cas mentioned

Rating: Teen

Summary: Dean thinks there’s only one thing he can do to protect the woman he loves from the Mark of Cain, but Dean doesn’t know everything.

Word Count: 2949

I felt it as soon as I held that thing in my hand. Rage. Raw and burning, demanding to be released. It was fueled by everything I buried so deep down inside me, and I somehow thought all that regret, disappointment, and frustration would never see the light of day. I could keep it buried out of sheer willpower, or it could magically go away if I wished for it hard enough.

That’s not the kind of magic that’s in the world. That’s not the magic I know. The magic I know curses, manipulates, and hurts people. It twists things up into something they shouldn’t be, and it’s all the things that shouldn’t be that make me so mad. They create the anger that’s in me for the mark to draw upon, all those things that never should have happened. All those things that still sit so heavy on me and Sam. 

Mom shouldn’t have died when I was four years old. Dad shouldn’t have tried to drown his grief in a bottle. He shouldn’t have left Sam and me alone like he did. I shouldn’t have watched my brother fall into a hole to hell and try to live a normal life while I knew he was in a cage with Lucifer being tortured. I shouldn’t have had such a good idea of what was happening to him in that cage because I’d been to hell myself.

Everything that’s pent up inside me gave The First Blade its power when I held it, the same way the mark gets its power from me. Those two things combined forces when the blade was in my hand, and I could feel the energy surging through me. It isn’t something I’m going to be able to control, not with silver bullets, rock salt, or a devil’s trap. Nothing I know about fighting is going to help with this thing. 

The day is going to come when this mark is going to take over my mind and everything I do. You can’t be here when that happens. I have to protect you, and that means getting you far away from me. 

I finish off my third glass of whiskey. It still isn’t enough. There isn’t enough whiskey in this bunker, or all of Kansas, to numb me so much that when I do what I have to do it’s not going to hurt worse than anything I’ve experienced in what has, more or less, been a lifetime of pain with brief moments of happiness.

Most of those moments have been with you. Anything I know of true happiness is because you showed it to me. You didn’t grow up the way I did. I’m thankful for that every day. You don’t know what it’s like to sleep with a gun under your pillow, but you’ve slept next to me plenty of times when there was a gun under mine.

That’s bad enough, but I will not let you suffer what this mark is going to do to me. You deserve better than that. You always deserved more than me, but this is where I draw the line. 

I think about pouring myself some more whiskey, but there’s no point. There isn’t anything in that bottle that’s going to give me the courage I need to do what’s right for you. The only thing that can make me strong enough is how much I love you. 

I’ve never even told you. Those aren’t words I know how to say, and it’s better now that I didn’t. That would only make this harder, and I don’t want to hurt you any more than I have to. I never wanted to hurt you. I would go to hell again in an instant if it meant sparing you pain. I guess I am; it’s just this time my hell is going to be on earth, and the thing that will torture me the most is being without you.

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

“You have to go.” You’re standing in our room with a look of disbelief on your face like you can’t comprehend what I just said, so I try again. “It’s time for this, whatever we’ve had, to be over.” Still you say nothing, just look at me with those beautiful eyes of yours that could make me lose my nerve and not go through with this, so I turn my head away. I can’t look in your eyes.

I’ve got to get through to you. You can’t be near me. I will not let this anger that’s going to consume me consume you too. This situation calls for something else. I still can’t look at you. I cannot look at you when I do this, or I’ll break.

I grab my duffle from the corner where I left it after the last hunt and throw it on the bed, then I open the drawer in the chest where you keep your clothes and start emptying it. I’m stuffing them into the duffle, trying hard not to really notice them because then I’ll remember. 

I’ll think about the last time you wore that shirt, or how this is the one you always wear when we curl up on the bed to watch movies together and end up wrapped around each other, making out and forgetting all about the movie. 

I’m managing to keep it together until I find one of my shirts in that drawer. It’s my black t-shirt you like to sleep in. I can picture the way it looks on you, the way it falls on your thighs and how good your legs look when you wear it; and then I remember the way it feels when your legs are wrapped around me. I take a deep breath.

I have to stop packing the duffle. I can’t touch your clothes anymore, and you see your opening. “Dean, what are you doing?”

I push the image of you in that shirt with your head on my chest out of my mind because it feels like a fist squeezing the life out of my heart. I zip the duffle closed. Whatever is in there will have to do. I pick it up and throw it on the floor. I never faced any monster that tested my courage the way this is. “I told you. We’re done, and you need to leave.”

“Dean, stop it and look at me.” You reach out and put your hand on my arm. It looks so small, and I want to feel it in mine so bad. It’s the hand I thought about holding for the rest of my life, however long that may be. 

I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing again before I turn around to look at you. When I do, I feel my knees go weak. Stay focused. Do what you have to do for her. “Don’t make this harder or more complicated than it has to be, Y/N.”

I’m waiting for you to say something. Anything. But I’m not expecting what you do say. “Dean, you’re full of crap.” Now, it’s my turn to look confused. I have no response for that, but you have plenty more to say.

You let go of my arm, stand back, and cross your arms over your chest. “You think you’re doing something noble, and you’ve done plenty of noble things in your life, but this isn’t one of them. There’s no way you’d be saying any of this if that mark wasn’t on your arm. I’ve seen the way you look at me, Dean. I’m not blind, and I’m not stupid. You looked at me that way last night, and I know what it means even if you won’t say it.”

I fumble for something to say, and the best I’ve got is “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your arms fall to your sides. “Like hell you don’t, Dean. You try to stay hidden behind that wall you’ve made around yourself, but before you got the mark; I broke through it. You let me in, and it’s not going to be so easy to push me back out.”

You walk over to the bed and sit down. My eyes follow you; I’m watching every move you make. You’re staring at me, and just as much as I couldn’t look at you before; I can’t help but look at you now.  Your voice sounds steady and determined. You aren’t finished with me. You’ve decided I’m going to hear everything you have to say. 

“I could leave the bunker, but it wouldn’t mean I’d leave you. I’d still be in touch with Sam all the time, asking him about you, keeping tabs on you, doing everything I could to save you. I’ll never stop trying to save you no matter how many times you tell me to go because I don’t believe any of it, and because I love you. You can’t stop me from loving you, and I won’t. I can’t now even if I tried.” You wrapped your arms around your middle and hugged yourself. It was nothing like when you’d taken your defiant stance with your arms folded over your chest.

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, and all the air had been knocked out of me. All I wanted to do was sit down beside you, take you in my arms, and give you all the comfort you were trying to give yourself. It was true. You wouldn’t give up. That’s who you are. Stubborn. Willful. And the kindest, most loving woman on this earth.

Fuck no. There are tears in your eyes. Not tears. I can’t handle tears. I can’t just watch you cry and do nothing to stop it. The next thing you say blows my plan to pieces. 

You hug yourself tighter, and a tear slips down your cheek. “I need you, Dean. Our...baby needs you.”

I sit down on the end of the bed because I don’t trust my legs to hold me up anymore, and I’m trying to read your face, trying to will you to look at me. “Our...Wh...What?”

When you do look at me, your eyes are sad. Your eyes shouldn’t be sad. More tears are streaming down your face. I can’t just sit here. I slide down the side of the bed until I’m next to you, and I wipe the tears from your cheeks. You let me. You don’t pull away, and I’m relieved for that. Just forget what I said before. I was an ass. I didn’t know.

“We’re having a baby, Dean. Don’t make me go.” Your tears have turned into sobs, and I take you in my arms, my earlier act forgotten. 

I put my hand in your hair and hold the back of your head while I whisper to you and try to calm you down. You shouldn’t be upset like this.  “Shh, Y/N. It’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry. I wouldn’t send you and the baby away. I would never do that.” I’ll leave if I have to. You’ll be safe here in the bunker with Sam. He’ll protect you, and this place is warded against anything that might want to hurt you. Sam is so smart; he’ll find a way to keep me out if he needs to. He knows what I would want.

After a few minutes, you stop crying and lift your head from my shoulder. Your eyes don’t look as sad as before, but they’re still sad; I hate that, hate that I did that to you. “Dean, why would you tell me to go when it isn’t what you want? I know it isn’t.”

I take your face in my hands and try to memorize how beautiful you are, in case the day comes when I can’t see you anymore. In case you and Sam can’t save me, I know you’ll try, but…. “Because I’m scared, Y/N. I’m scared I’ll hurt you, and….” Wait. “The baby. When did it happen? Did I have this thing on my arm? Is the baby….?”

“It was before,” you tell me. “The baby’s okay.” I let go of you and scrub my hand down my face. Then I turn and brace my hands on each side of me on the bed. This is why I shouldn’t have kids. All this fucked up shit that is my life should never come anywhere near a kid. 

“What if it hadn’t been, Y/N? I could have infected our child with this evil that I’m carrying.” I can feel my own eyes filling up with tears. I could have hurt our baby, just because of who I am. I lower my head and cover my face with my hand. I wish I could hide from you. I feel so ashamed.

All that shame is mixed up with something else, a fierce protective love for you and the baby you’re carrying. I don’t even know what’s right for you anymore. I don’t know what to do.. 

I feel your arm go around me, and your voice is still the sweetest sound I could possibly hear. For some reason, you’re still here talking to me even though I’m a danger to you and the baby. “Dean, you won’t hurt me; you won’t hurt either of us. We’ll find a way to get that mark off your arm. We will.”

I want to believe you, but I can feel it burning. That goddamned mark is burning now. This should be one of the sweetest moments of my life. You just told me I’m going to be a father, and I can feel the mark. It won’t let me forget about it, not for an instant. It has intruded on something which should have been between us.

You put your hand over mine that’s still covering my face and move it to rest in your lap. “Dean, do you want to feel the baby?” Your voice is full of hope; I hear it.

Feel the baby. How can you trust me so much? “Can...can I do that? Isn’t it too soon?”

You smile for the first time since I walked into our room. “Well, it’s too soon to feel it move, but you know it’s there.” You lift my hand from your lap and put it on your stomach. My baby is in there. I can’t help it. I smile too. 

Knowing there’s a life inside you that we made makes me feel something I can’t begin to explain. This feels like an even greater responsibility than saving the world from an apocalypse. How do I fulfill that responsibility with this fucking mark on my arm? It’s too much.

I leave my hand where it is on your stomach, lay down, and put my head on your lap. You have something so precious inside you. I move my hand a little so I can kiss the center of your stomach. “Sweet baby, I love you.” Just like that, I said the words I thought I couldn’t say, and everything I’ve tried to keep pushed down inside me came pouring out.

I cried there with my head on your lap, cried because I’ve dragged you both into this mess with me, cried because I need to be a father to my child. I want to be, but what if I’m not here for him? Or her? What if I’m not even here to see the baby born? What if the mark has taken me already?

Cas will take care of it. I told him to kill me if it came to that. Sam can’t do it; he won’t ever do it. A sob rips out of me. I want to see my baby grow up.

I feel your fingers running through my hair. I never wanted you to see me like this. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

“Dean, it’s okay.” You’re still running your fingers through my hair. Your touch is so soft, just like you, soft and good. “You don’t have to do this alone, Dean. You never had to do it alone. We love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” I circle my arms around your waist and hold on. I don’t ever want to let you go. 

You take your hand out of my hair and slide it down my back, rubbing back and forth. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I finally stop crying; and your hand stops moving.

“C’mere, Dean.” I can feel you shifting your position, and I sit up so you can move. You lay down on the bed, your head on the pillow, and hold your arms out to me. “C’mon.”

I lay down next to you with my head on your shoulder. You start stroking your fingers through my hair again. “Close your eyes, Dean.”

So close, no matter how far

Forever trusting who we are

And nothing else matters

I want to stay here like this forever with nothing but the feel of our arms around each other and the sound of your gentle voice singing.

Never opened myself this way

Life is ours; we live it our way

Oh, these words I don’t just say

And nothing else matters

You make me feel calm. I believe you when you make me feel like this. I believe it can be okay.

Trust I seek and I find in you....

I dream about you, and in my dreams there is no mark. There’s only us and a little girl with green eyes and a smile like yours. We’re happy.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @thinkinghardhardlythinking @petitgateau911

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967​ @sgarrett49​ @wingedcatninja​ @coffee-obsessed-writer​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @ellewritesfix05​ @weepingwillowphoenix​

[angstysebfan]

The Truth Will Set You Free- Part 5

Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader, Thor x Reader (other Avenger characters)

AU: Modern

Summary: You dated for two years, and thought he was the one for you. One day you came home and found him with someone else. After running away from you, you return home and found yourself in the arms of Thor. When Thor decides to introduce you to his friends at a dinner, you realize that there’s something familiar about the house you were visiting.

Warnings: implied cheating, language (not proofread)

--

You stare in disbelief at what Natasha just said to you. She looks at you, still nervous about your reaction. The fact that you have no reaction makes her gulp.

“Y/N, I know this is not what you expected, but it’s true. I am in love with you. I think I always have. You were my best friend, and somewhere along the line, I realized that I wanted to be more than your friend. But I swear I never meant to cause you pain or make you think that Bucky was cheating on you. It was a stupid mistake, and the blame lays all on me,” she said, tears starting to fall from her eyes.

You look at her and wonder if this is some kind of trick. “Tell me what happened that day. Then we will get back to... this,” you say looking at the floor.

Nat takes a deep breath and begins.

~Flashback~

Nat pulls up outside of your shared townhouse with Bucky. She sees that Bucky is working on his bike outside on the driveway. Natasha takes a deep breath and gets out of the car, heading toward the man.

“Hey Buck, is Y/N home?” she asks. Bucky is surprised to see Nat, but gives her a warm smile as he stands. 

“She had to work today, unfortunately. Ruined our plans for the weekend,” he says with a shrug. “She probably won’t be home until late.”

Tears spring to Nat’s eyes before she could stop them. Bucky is both shocked and slightly uncomfortable by the emotion of the woman in front of him. Natasha covers her face in her hands as she sobs. Bucky awkwardly walks up and hugs her.

“I’m sorry,” Nat says in between sobs.

Bucky says nothing as he lets Natasha cry. He is concerned, since Nat is usually stoic. She never liked to show emotion, except with Bruce, which is why they dated for so long. Maybe the break up was harder on her then she puts on.

“Do you want to come inside? I know I’m not Y/N, but I’m here if you need to talk,” Bucky says softly.

Nat says nothing, but nods her head. She follows Bucky into the house and the living room. Bucky looks at Nat concerned, and then realizes, he is shirtless. 

“Uh, give me a second, I’m going to put on a shirt,” he says.

Nat laughs, “Trust me, I’m not looking. It’s ok,” she says. 

Bucky laughs and decides that he will wait, since he is still feeling the heat from outside. His expression softens, “So what’s going on? Is this about the break up with Bruce?” he asks.

Nat sighs, contemplating whether she wants to tell him the secret she has been holding on to for so long. “It’s kinda about that, but it’s something more. I- I’ve been holding on to a secret from everyone, and I am terrified that when I say it, everyone will look at me differently,” she says.

Bucky furrows his brows, “You don’t have to be afraid to tell us. Especially Y/N, I mean she is your best friend,” he says.

Nat looks at Bucky, tears still in her eyes, “I’m in love with Y/N,” she says.

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, “Wait, you’re in love with.... Y/N? You- you’re a lesbian?” he asks cautiously.

Nat nods her head and starts to sob again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you this. She is your girlfriend. You bought a ring to propose, and now I am telling you that I am in love with her. Not that it matters because she doesn’t feel the same way, but I have been holding on to this for so long, that saying it out loud for someone else to hear is... I can’t even explain it,” she says through her tears.

Bucky says nothing, as he is still in shock at what Natasha just said. Natasha continues to sob, and finally Bucky snaps out of his thoughts and pulls her into a hug again. This only makes Nat cry harder as she continues to apologize. Finally after what feels like forever, Nat stops crying and actually falls asleep. Bucky moves her to be more comfortable on the couch and covers her with a blanket before retreating to his room.

He can’t believe what he just heard. I mean he always had a feeling that Nat played for the other team, which he is totally fine with. What he isn’t necessarily ok with is that Nat is in love with his girl. He sat on his bed, his mind reeling with this news. He wondered how you would react. You were a sweet person, so he was sure you would still accept your best friend. He figured he would leave Nat to sleep on the couch where you would find her when you got home. He would stay out of the way in your room and wait until everything was said and done. Before he knew it, his eyes started feeling heavy. He climbed into his bed, and fell fast asleep.

Nat woke up awhile later and realized that she was alone in your home. She got up in search of you or Bucky and quietly went to your bedroom. When she opened the door she say Bucky sleeping in the bed. She knew she should have left, but the idea of sneaking into your room to smell your scent on the pillow drove her to her next move. Before she knew it was in the bed next to Bucky, who continued to sleep, and laying on your pillow. She breathed in your scent and imagined that this was her bed with you, and before she knew it she fell back to sleep.

~End of Flashback~

You look at Natasha in shock. You honestly didn’t know what to do with this information. “So, what happened after I left? Because you two seem to continue with your lives like nothing ever happened,” you accused.

Bucky walks over and squats down next to you. “That is not true, at least not for me. I begged you to stop and listen to me. I chased you outside, begging on my hands and knees for you to stop and you just left. I was broken beyond repair. I called you, texted you, emailed you for a week with no response. When you drove away that night I kicked Natasha out and told her I never wanted to speak to her again. I was sure that this was just a plot to break us up so she could have you.”

“After I found out you were truly gone, I shut down. I took time off work, I didn’t talk to anyone, I just stayed here in bed looking at the ring I was going to give you, but now lost the chance to. Steve and Sam begged me to tell them what happened, but I didn’t want to out Nat like that. Even though I hated her at that point, I wasn’t going to do that,” Bucky said.

You stare at him, “But you’re friends now? And why didn’t you tell everyone else what happened? Why was I left to be the bad guy here?” you snapped at Nat.

“Y/N, I was scared! I know I was selfish and I should have said something, but I was terrified that I was going to lose the rest of my friends like I had just lost you,” Nat said.

You roll your eyes, “Oh please! You lost me because it looked like you were sleeping with my boyfriend, not because you are a lesbian and supposedly in love with me!” you screamed. 

You turned your eyes to Bucky you gave you pleading eyes, “I-I don’t know what to think here. I mean, you both kept a secret for 3 years from the rest of the group. You made me out to be the bad guy,” you said.

“I told Steve,” Bucky said. You and Nat both look at him in surprised. “I told Steve everything except Nat’s secret, after Nat came to apologize. I needed to tell someone because I was going crazy. I felt like I couldn’t breath. I told Steve to not say anything, even to Peggy because I thought Nat was going to tell. After a while, when she still didn’t tell, I should have said something, but the group has stopped asking about it,” he said. 

You stand up and start to pace around the room. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” you say more to yourself. You look at Nat, “I would have never judged you for who you are and your friends won’t either. You need to tell them the truth,” you say, making Nat nod surprised. 

You then look at Bucky, “I-I don’t know what to do. I-I need time to think. How do I know if this is even true. You both kept this secret for 3 years. I need to think,” you say before quickly rushing out of the door and away from them. 

As you run up the street toward the subway to go back to your apartment, you allow all the information you just heard settle. You were more confused as ever an a part of you wished that Thor never brought you to meet his friends today.

~~

Part 4 / Part 6

Ok. I know some emotions are high with some of my dedicated readers, and I love when that happens. I understand what everyone is saying with the fact that Bucky kept that secret so he must not care. I don’t personally think it’s that cut and dry. But that’s just me. This story has gone from mini-series to full blows series. We are going to get to the bottom of this shit show! Feedback is appreciated!

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If you requested to be tagged and you were not, please let me know!

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[let-me-luve-you]

Hidden Relationship

Tom x Twin!Sister

Summary: Tom isn’t happy that his twin sister kept a huge secret from him, but everyone else knew. 

Warnings: angst, asshole Tom but he gets better, ends in fluff though. 

MASTERLIST

Family dinners were a necessary thing when everyone was in town. Every night. Whether that be Nikki or Sam cooking or going out to a restaurant. Family dinners started when your twin started his acting career. He was usually only home for two months of the year and it wasn’t consecutive.

Tom arrived this morning and at your parents house was the first time you had seen him in a couple of months. You spent the day out with your boyfriend of one month. You needed to tell Tom about it, but you just couldn’t get up the nerve. He’s going to be mad and he is going to give you the silent treatment for life.

Sam and Nikki set the table. You sat next to Tom and started joking around with him. As Dom sat at the head of the table, he laughed at the older twins antics.

“Did Harrison not want to come, Y/N?” Nikki asked you. Everyone knew but Tom and Harry since they’ve been in America. You didn’t think anything of it as you shook your head.

“He was meeting Charlotte for dinner and a movie.” You said.

“Why would Harrison come?” Tom asked Nikki. He turned towards you, “And how do you know what he’s doing? I don’t even know what he’s doing.” You stared at your brother in shock at his angry tone.

“We’re friends?” You said in more of a question.

Nikki looked at you with soft eyes. You could see her apologizing to you without saying the words. “Y/N, maybe it’s time…”

“Time? Time for what?” Tom asked looking back from your mum to you. You sighed.

“Harrison and I…” You said before looking down at your plate. “We are dating. Have been for a month.”

Tom dropped his fork loudly. He stood up from his chair abruptly and started pacing behind you. “YOU WHAT?” He practically yelled. “You’re dating Harrison. A guy you despised growing up. Would never hangout with us?”

“Yeah. Whenever he moved in with you, we grew closer.” You said turning to look at him. He refused to meet your eyes. “I started staying at your place when you were gone. Seeing how I liked living from mum and dad.” You stood up and stopped in front of him. “Harrison wanted to tell you, but I was afraid of how you would react.”

“My best mate and my twin sister are together?” He asked more to himself. “Out of all the guys you could have dated, why him? Harrison is my best mate. If something happens between the two of you, it will make it awkward? Did you even consider how I would feel about this? How I’ll be dragged into the middle or even worse, I’ll have to choose.”

“You won’t have to.” You told him with a begging look in your eyes. “Don’t let this come between us.” You started to cry. Tom refusing to look at you broke your heart. Of course you’ve had fights, but they weren’t ever this bad.

“You let it come between us when you didn’t tell me.” Tom said before he walked past you. You followed him to the front door and were going to follow him out, but before you could, he slammed it in your face. The sob you had been holding in finally released as you fell to the ground. Harry walked up towards you and helped you stand up before he pulled you close.

“It’s okay, Y/N/N. Just let him walk it off. He just needs to let the news set in. Once it does, he will be so glad that a great man is taking care of you. He’ll know that Harrison will never do anything to hurt you.” Harry said. You shook your head before walking upstairs to your room.

After sitting in your room for an hour or so, you finally calmed down enough to leave your room. When you walked downstairs, you heard your family talking about you. You slowed and sat on the bottom step.

“Tom’s at home. He said he texted Haz to not come home tonight. When I went over there, he was still extremely angry. I’ve never seen him like that.” Harry said. You started tearing up knowing that you were the cause of your brother’s emotional outbreak.

“He’ll get over it soon enough. I’ve never seen Y/N happier.” Dom said. “She probably should have told him sooner, but I definitely get why she didn’t.”

“She told me she didn’t want to affect the relationship between Harrison and Tom.” Nikki added. “She’s thought a lot about this. It nearly broke my heart when she said if Harrison and her ever got really serious and then broke up, that she would tell Tom to side with Harrison.”

“Why would she say that?” Sam asked.

“Because she knows how much Harrison means to Tom. He’s been there through it all. Friends like that don’t come everyday.” Paddy said. You heard your mum hum in agreement.

You continue to sit there for another twenty minutes listening to your family talk about you and Tom before they moved onto Harry’s recent trip with Tom. You were just about to get up when you heard the front door open. You looked up to see Tom walk in and make eye contact with you.

“I’m leaving. Don’t worry. Go finish your dinner.” You said standing up before heading back upstairs. You heard Tom sigh before you heard his footsteps following you. You walked into your room and he slid in and shut the door behind him.

“I’m sorry for the way I reacted. I should have sat down and talked with you civilly.” He said sitting next to you on your bed. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m still angry, but I want to talk to you about it.”

“Okay.” You said softly. If he wasn’t sitting so close, he wasn’t sure he would have heard it.

“Tell me about it. Make me understand.” He said.

“We started hanging out more. Watching movies before bed, going to get dinner when I got off work, or we would just sit and talk. I started to get feelings for him. I wanted to call you so many times, but I didn’t want to bother you. It was nice to hangout with someone that knew about your life. It’s so hard to find someone that is interested in me for me. People I meet now, I always think, ‘are they only talking to me because of who my brothers are?’ ‘Is he only interested because he wants to know the guy that plays Spider-Man?’”

Tom sighed. Your life got harder when he got his start. He knew that. His brothers had their own fans because of him. You had some people that loved you, but for the most part, he knew about you being used to get to him. He hated the pain it brought you.

“We had gone out to see Onward. I wanted to see it again, but didn’t want to go alone. So Haz took me to the cinema that brings food to you. We ate, we laughed, and we cried. It was a good night. He was such a gentleman. He held my hand as we walked to the car. He held it all the way home.” You blushed. Tom gave a small laugh at your reaction. “He walked me to your room.”

“Ah please don’t tell me you had sex in my bed.” He said in a whiny tone. You laughed.

“No. No we didn’t. I would never do that.” You said laughing. “No, he walked me to your room. We stood there awkwardly in the hallway. He finally kissed me.” You blushed and Tom made a gagging sound. “He then said goodnight and went to his room. The next day, he was gone before I even got up. He had a shoot. When I got home from work he had cooked dinner and set up a candle light dinner. That night he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“I understand not telling me at first, but why didn’t you ever tell me? I had to find out by accident.” Tom asked. You could tell he was hurt by your actions. “Who all knew? Did you only keep it from me? Your own twin?”

“Everyone but you and Harry knew.” You said looking away from him.

“And Haz wanted to tell me?”

“Yeah. About a week after we started dating, we were cuddling up and watching a movie and you called. Do you remember that?” You asked him.

“Yeah.” He nodded his head.

“Harry had asked why we were hanging out. He joked saying we finally got together.” You turned to see him looking at you. “You had the most disgusted look on your face. Said we would never date. That it would be too awkward and that we would never last.”

Tom looked down and remembered the words. “Haz wanted to tell you that night. He’s been begging me to tell you. I just couldn’t. I knew you would be mad so I was afraid.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” Tom said, grabbing your hand. “It will take some getting used to, but I’m glad you’re happy. I’ll talk with Haz later. I’m just glad you found someone who will take care of you. I know it’s been rough with being able to trust people. I’m happy you found someone that isn’t using you to get to me or our brothers.”

Tom pulled you close to him and he kissed your temple. You leaned into his embrace.

“I promise to never keep something like this from you again.” You said.

“I appreciate that. Love you Y/N/N.” He squeezed you tighter.

“Love you too T.” You squeezed him even tighter.

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-43)

Word count: 4.1K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Angst, mentions of PTSD, heartbreak, feels, fluff, spoiler warnings in the tags (it’s no biggie, but in case anyone wants to still check out ;))

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: This is one of the most crucial chapters for this series. I hope you guys like it cause it’s definitely a favourite of mine :)

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​​​​​. Shout out to my best girl. I owe so much to you, Athina. You’re my sunflower <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

The crack in the ceiling was wider than you thought it would be, staring at you from up there, like a river and its rivulets, but disconnected from the source, dried up before reaching the sea that was its destination. Just aimlessly stuck in the middle.

There was an urgent knock on the door. Wiping your eyes, you called, “yeah.”

Madison poked her head through the door. “Can I come in?”

“Umm yeah, sure.”

You sat up in the bed.

Madison came to sit by you on the mattress. You didn’t look up at her, afraid she would see your swollen eyes. 

“I know you don’t like to share your problems with anyone,” said Madison. “But I’m here. Just in case you want to talk about what’s hurting you. I haven’t seen you out and about in a while, Y/N.”

Her voice was gentle. 

“I can’t tell you what’s wrong because I don’t know what it is myself.” 

“Is it about Sam?”

“It is and it isn’t.” Choosing not to elaborate, you drew into yourself against the headrest. This wasn’t about Sam. This was about you being unable to understand your own damn mind and it was hurting Sam- so much. The muteness of his eyes was haunting you… and then there was Max- the sweetest little soul in this world. Every time you thought about him, you wanted to all but break down. What was wrong with you? Because something had to be wrong if you couldn’t accept that boy with all your heart. 

You didn’t deserve to be a mother. This was why you could never be one.

“Come down for a bit,” said Madison, tone sympathetic. “All the guys are downstairs at Pam’s. She said something about ‘welcome to the apartment’ free pizza ritual.”

“You go on. I don’t feel like it.”

She looked like she wanted to insist, then decided against it. “If you change your mind, don’t forget your sweater. It’s a chilly evening.”

After Madison left, you couldn’t bear to lay in the bed. The crack in the ceiling was twisting your heart. Outside, the sky was darkening quickly, earlier than it should have.

Walking into the kitchen, you filled the coffee pot with water. Just as you were about to place it onto the machine, the doorbell rang. You knew in your gut who it was, just the way one knows what's coming when the sea starts to recede.

Sam looked distraught. Gone was the carefully concealed blank look from the day before. Today, he had abandoned all attempts to hide his emotions. He wasn’t dressed for work either. Just jeans and plaid, with a bunch of papers rolled in his hands.  

Without a word you stepped aside to let him in. Sam sat down on the sofa, looking about himself as if hoping that someone or something would save him from what was about to happen. Again, you simply knew.

“I messed up bigtime, didn’t I?” You whispered, taking a seat opposite him.

Sam, who was decidedly staring at the floor, shook his head. “You didn’t mess up anything, Y/N. You-” His voice broke and he visibly made an effort to speak again. “You tried harder than anyone should’ve had to… and God, this is going to kill me.”

“What is…?”

Sam braced himself. “I love you, Y/N. You have to know that. I would gamble my life away without a second’s thought if it meant I could spend even some of it with you as truly yours. To have you in my arms and not think about whether it’s the right thing to do. But I can’t gamble away Max’s life like that. He’s suffered so much already. I can’t have him start believing with all his heart that you’ll be his mother only for you to compromise. Worse, if a few months down the line, you decide you don’t want to do this, he’ll be shattered. I can’t do that to my boy.”

A single tear rolled down your cheek.

“I know you love him. I’d have to be blind not to see that. But I don’t know if you can love him without a doubt in your mind. I don’t want you to have to adjust into a mother’s role for him, if you aren’t ready. I know you- the guilt of it won’t let you breathe. And asking you to do that just so I could live out my fantasy of a perfect family… won’t be fair to you or Max.”

He flattened the papers in his hand on the table before you. One word glared out of it, strong and bold- Divorce. 

He took a ragged breath, then spoke in a fragile voice. “It’s still your decision to make- whether you want to sign these papers or not. If you do, we’ll walk out of your life this time. I haven’t committed beyond this semester to Stanford- another month. Take that time and decide what you really want.”

None of it was surprising you. Not his words, not his actions. Just like that tsunami, you had seen this coming the moment you didn’t respond to Max’s call. Still, the words weren’t sinking in. They were floating in the space between you and him.

“I promised to wait for you… I promised to give you all the time you needed,” he whispered. “That was a selfish promise. There’s nothing else for me now except that wait… but I can’t drag Max along.”

You mutely watched him draw out a pen from his pocket and start flipping through the pages, signing them as he went. The hard matt shadow of the pen scratched at the illusion like quality of the situation. The on and off gold glint pushed at the awareness further. You knew that pen. You knew that it was partly made up of obsidian and you knew the inscription on it- It’s not time to worry yet - Atticus Finch

Sam closed the papers shut and put the pen back in his pocket. You saw him swallow hard and raise one hand towards you in yearning, longing, before rigidly bringing it back to himself. He might have said something more, softly, eyes roving your face, but the words didn’t register, just the utter helplessness in his voice. With one last look, he got up from the chair and left.

The door banging on the frame made you flinch. 

It’s not time to worry yet.

It’s not time to worry yet.

We’ll walk out of your life this time.

Drops were beginning to fall on the balcony outside, getting bigger, hitting faster, water dripping down on your carpet through the open window. You sat there, looking at the papers in front of you, not making a move to close the shutters.

The shrill ringing of your phone made you jump up once more. Mechanically, still in a daze, you answered the call.

“Hello. Is this Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?” 

A pause.

“Hello?”

You answered. “Yes, speaking.”

The voice said, more relaxed. “I’m Melanie Hawthorn from Acton Griswold. This is regarding your application for the position of a paralegal at our firm. We are very pleased to offer you the said position. Please get in touch with the HR to set up a meeting to discuss the terms of employment. An email with the details is being sent to you shortly. Will you be able to provide me with a tentative date?”

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Uh… anytime this week is okay.”

“Thank you. We’ll be in touch.”

*Click*

It’s not time to worry yet.

We’ll walk out of your life this time.

Next second, you grabbed the papers on the table and then you were running, not caring that you were dressed only in your shorts and camisole, not caring that you were bare foot or that it was raining outside- only that with each passing second, Sam was walking away from you.

How many times had you done this to him? Ran away as he watched you go. Once? Twice? Thrice? And yet, here you were unable to bear a single step he took in the other direction. For once in your life you weren’t running away, you were running towards. 

Taking the steps two at a time, you ran, almost tripping on the last one, as you passed the safety of the awning and into the thundering rain, your feet slipped on the shabby pavers of the meadow. From here, you could see Sam, slowly walking past the statue, his shoulders were slumped, feet dragging, soaked through and through.

Splashing water with each step, you closed the distance between the two of you. Sam turned around at the last minute. His face made you falter. That was the look of a man who was being burned alive at the stakes. He looked at you and broke down- not tears, but sobs wracking his body. Sam collapsed on the parapet of the statue. The only other time you had seen him lose it completely was in the hospital, telling his brother how he couldn’t face you and tell you that you could never be a mother again. Only you could bring him down on his knees like this- then and now.

Sam put his face in his hands, sobbing into them- lost and broken. 

You stood over him, motionless.

“I know why you did it.” The words fell off your lips like cracks of thunder. Maybe low and muted, but with the same devastating power. “I know why you really drafted the papers.”

In your room upstairs, Sam’s defeated eyes had narrated a different story than his words. The words made sense, his reasoning perfectly logical- he wanted to protect his son from a woman who wouldn’t commit to being his mother. Except, you knew Sam. In the past few months, you had re-learned the workings of his soul. He would only pull something this drastic if he firmly believed it to be the only way to do right by both Max and you. No matter if it was at his own expense. The divorce papers weren’t an ultimatum, or a deadline as they appeared to be. They were Sam’s way of offering you an out from this situation with your dignity intact. He was shifting the blame of the failed marriage on himself, ready to face Max’s disappointment and anger, only so you wouldn’t have to live through the guilt of your choice. 

Max would see it in black and white. His father had decided to divorce you, just like his father had forbidden him from seeing you after the play-date. Max would yell and curse and be livid, but just like before, he would accept Sam’s decision and eventually forgive him for it. But if Max found out that you were the one unwilling to become his mother, he might never forgive you. With his last act, Sam was sparing you the pain of betraying Max, the pain of seeing the accusal in his eyes. How much exactly did Sam love you? Because this amount of love was unfathomable. It should’ve destroyed his mind! 

No one should have to make such a sheer sacrifice for being the good one. No one should have to suffer so much, so quietly. Especially not Sam.

“All these years that we’ve known each other, you’ve never let me thank you,” you said, only determination keeping your voice steady. “Not when you opened doors, or pulled chairs in restaurants, not when you held my hair as I threw up in the toilet at three in the morning because of sickness. You used to tell me we were married and it was your job to look after your wife. You said you weren’t doing me a favour and I stopped thanking you.”

Sam looked up finally, the rain making his tears invisible, but not his anguish.

“Then I saw you here… I can’t possibly tell you how it felt, seeing you in the class. Bumping into you in the corridor and knowing you still use the cologne I gifted, knowing you remembered the taste of my cookies. I was terrified of returning your coat back to you, scared that you’d outright banish me from your life. You brought me home when I was drunk, you pulled me out of the water when I could’ve died and held me through a night of torture. And you didn’t let me thank you for it. It wasn’t a favour, you said. It was your job.”

“But you did me one favour today, Sam Winchester,” you said, getting down on your knee on the coarse ground and holding up the drenched papers to him. “By giving me this, you did me the biggest favour of my life.”

Sam’s face was a mask of shock. You reached out and placed your hand against his cheek. “You showed me exactly what I stood to lose.”

The rain was falling mercilessly now, hitting your skin like shards, running down your bare arms in rivulets. 

“Chirp wasn’t the name of our baby… it was the name we gave to our hopes and dreams of the future. I felt that dream die inside me, Sam. I felt him go… and I swear if it wasn’t for you, I would have died that day with him. And that fear… of ever feeling like that again, it kept me under for so long. I was barely there… you kept more of me alive than I did, myself, through that cologne, the pictures… that pen! And you gave me the biggest joy I’ve ever known- that little boy.”

Silent tears glided down Sam’s eyes, still indistinct in the rain. He looked so vulnerable, as if the smallest of winds could shatter him.

“I was scared that I might lose him, Sam. Just like… our first baby. I couldn’t save him, and if anything ever happened to…” you shook your head, refusing to complete that thought. “I would die. Not even you could bring me back then…” Taking in a deep breath you continued. “By handing me the divorce papers, you just reminded me that if you leave with him, I can never lay a claim on Max. I’ll lose him either way… I’ll lose my little Chirp all over again, and I can’t do that. He’s my boy.”

Taking his face in both your hands, you gave him a little shake. “Max is my boy, you understand? He’s my little Chirp.”

“You… You’ll come back?” Sam spoke at last. The disbelief in his voice was painful.

Letting go off his face, you grabbed the wet papers in both your hands and tore them into four pieces. “I’ve been thinking I was jinxed all these years. I was so convinced that I never let your love sway me. But now I can see it’s not true. Because no one who’s jinxed would find someone like you! And I found you twice. I don’t need a damn month to figure this out. I know what I want. I want you! I want us.”

He shook his head, refusing to believe. Afraid to hope again.

You grabbed his face, forced him to look at you again. “I just got a call that I’ve been hired at Acton Griswold. You know what’s the first thing I wanted to do? The only thing I wanted to do? Was to run to you! Just like seven years ago, barefoot in the rain. You make me feel eighteen again.” 

You looked him deep in his anguished eyes. “I love you, Sam Winchester. I don’t know how you can’t see that. It’s in the whisper of my every breath, the subtext to my every word. And we… we’re still a lot like us, aren’t we? No, we’re better. We have Max now. We’re a family. Please… Please believe me.”

Sam slipped on the ground next you, on his knees and pulled you to him, crushing your lips against his. His strong arms corded against your back, slipping and sliding against the wet silk of your tank top. It had turned transparent, clinging to your body. 

“I believe you,” he whispered desperately against your lips. “God, I believe you.”

You tangled your fingers in his wet hair, kissing him like your life depended on it, the worry, uncertainties, ebbing away from your body, a fierce, wild joy replacing it.

“Say it, say it again, please,” Sam begged in a coarse, broken voice, but it wasn't hopeless anymore. It was ringing with the same ferocity that you felt.

“I love you, Sam. I love you so much.”

He made an animalistic sound and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you impossibly close, his lips fast and urgent against yours. 

Someone whistled loudly from behind.

Breaking off the kiss, you turned in the circle of Sam’s arms to see Kevin standing under the stilted awning of the building with a shit eating grin on his face. Others were slowly coming out from Pam’s apartment. 

You ignored him, threw your arms around Sam once more and began kissing him. He didn’t let go of you either… not until a shiver ripped through your body. As the high of the adrenalin came down, you suddenly began to feel the cold. Sam tightened his grip on you. 

“Oye! Get a room, you two!” Meg shouted. “C’mon, now! Keep it PG 13.”

“Don’t let go,” you pleaded.

“Not a chance,” said Sam. He put a hand under your knee and in one fluid motion hefted you into his arms, not breaking off the kiss.

More cat calls and hoots followed in the background. You could hear Jack howling with laughter, as Sam walked back towards the building carrying you.

“Oh, enough staring at those two,” Kevin said. “C’mon, get out there in the rain. You know the rules. Everyone who loses the bet has to get wet. That’s all of you bitches except Maddie and me. Out now!” 

He’d won the bet after all.

Pam blew a raspberry at him and climbed down the steps just as Sam passed her.

“Ah, the sweet, sweet taste of vindication,” Kevin gloated.

“Ah, the acrid, acrid stench of snobbery,” Meg hissed, following Pam. “Don’t go back to the flat anytime soon, Maddie.” 

You were hardly paying any attention, as Sam walked you up all the way to your flat. Once inside, you barely made it to the bathroom, before he had you pinned against the wall, lips still urgent, hands roving under your wet camisole. The sight of his closed eyes, the wetness of the rain and tears still clinging to his lashes was like a slow fire inside of you, burning low but not easing- the sweetest of torments. His fingers found the buckle of your bra and you felt him fumble with it, then hesitate.

You grabbed his hand behind your back and held it there. “Don’t stop. Please…”

“Y/N…” He groaned, the need acute to the point of a primal hunger in his eyes. You could see yourself in his lust-blown, dark irises- barely recognising that girl or the hoarseness of her voice as she begged. “Please.”

That was all Sam needed as he grabbed the edge of your top and tore it apart into shreds. At the same time you pushed back his shirt, and then tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Sam didn’t waste another minute before pulling you back into a kiss. He tasted like the wildness of the rain and the bitterness of coffee. 

You reached out behind you to unbuckle the bra and let it fall to the ground. Sam shuddered when you leaned into him next. skin touching to skin- wet and slick. “Y/N…”

He hoisted you on top of the bathroom counter. His hand slid down from your shoulders, over your breast, the thumb skating right across it and then further below into your shorts. You looked at him in the moment- a short second, an eternity- saying everything you ever wanted to without a word, listening to everything he wanted to say without a word. 

“I need you…” you whispered, head rolling back, chest heaving with loud, ragged breaths, as his pants fell to the floor in a heap of wet denim. He hooked his thumb into the waistband of your shorts and underwear, and tugged them down your legs in one motion.

He put his forehead against yours, catching a breath, bracing himself. This was it. Moulding his lips against your, and biting down on the bottom lip, he pushed inside. 

A whimper left your lips, the corners of your eyes starting to sting again. He was as essential to your existence as breath itself was to living.

It was hard and fast and desperate- your teeth scraping against his ears and jaw, fingers digging into his back, and biting his shoulders to muffle the screams. You didn’t say anything coherent except wanting him to go harder and faster… and being ecstatic when he did. You lost count of the number of times you called out his name- in yearning, in commands, in pleas and in prayers till you were both a tangle of bodies on the floor of the bathroom, coming down from the high together. 

The rain splattered on the glass panes and you held on to him… letting go now would be a sin. You didn’t know how long you stayed there. Eventually Sam lifted you again, walking you into the shower. Still together, the shower barely lasted five minutes. Once on the bed, he would have let you rest, but you didn’t have it in you to be separated from him now. It would cause physical pain.

So, you drew him back upon yourself. This time it was slow… lazy, languid... relearning the patterns and shapes of each other. You memorised the exact curve of his lips, the hardness of his abs, running your fingers through the soft smattering of hair on his chest. 

As for Sam? He was treating you like a mirage that could disappear any given instance now. It broke your heart that the slight wildness in his eyes wasn’t giving way to his usual calmth. The vulnerability of his every move made you want to weld yourself to him, body and soul, so he would never feel this way again- as if he was living on borrowed luck, that anytime now this could be snatched away from him. 

You must have told him you loved him several times in the course of the hour, and yet, each time you said it, you felt his heart jump up in his chest under your fingers. Sam. Your Sam.

It must’ve been hours later, when you heard the main door of the flat open and close. Your room was submerged in darkness, neither of you willing to move away first.

With a sigh, you raised yourself on your elbow to turn on the light, it bathed Sam in a warm glow. Bending down, you kissed the tip of his pointed nose, and then his eyelids, one by one.

“Max?” You said.

Sam cleared his throat before speaking. “He’s staying over at Jody’s.”

You frowned.

“I wasn’t expecting to be in any shape to look after him tonight,” he explained. “It would’ve been me and a bottle of scotch. Couldn’t have him see that.”

You kissed the hollow under his neck this time. “Will you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he promised.

“Don’t tell Max. I want to be the one to tell him.”

His galaxy eyes melted. “Of course. Whatever you want.”

“So you can stay tonight?” 

“If you want me to.”

It occurred to you that this wasn’t a one time thing. This was the rest of your life now. Sam was your husband. You had the right to keep him here with you for today and everyday. No more sneaking around, no more doubts. Just you, him and your little boy.

A surprised giggle bubbled up your lips and soon turned out into full laughter, tears rolling along the sides of your eyes.

“Something funny, Mrs. Winchester?” Sam asked, amused, his eyes soft.

You shook your head, burying your face in his chest. “Nothing. I love you.”

His heart skipped a beat again. You felt lips ghost over your hair. 

“I love you, too, Darling. More than life.”

*****************************

A/N 2: Sometimes one hard push is necessary to make people realise just what they might lose out on. I’ve edited and re-edited this chapter so many times, I’ve lost the count. It was the make it or break it chapter. It had to be worth it.

Hope you guys liked it as much I do <3

Please do let me know if you liked this part. Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated.

Adding the Gif credit here cause it won’t let me link it before the cut

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[ejlovespie]

Over Time

Fandom: Supernatural

Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)

Summary: After a nasty argument and a drunken mistake. Dean and the reader have some issues to work through, it’s not easy though.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2198

Warnings: Angst/Cursing/Drinking/Cheating/Spanking/a lil’ bit of Angry & Degrading Sex/ Kind of fluff 

A/N: Reader’s Request: “Sooo I was wondering if you would do a request please? A little bit of angst with some fluff later...the reader has cheated on Dean and the couple is trying to work through it, but it's been tough.” 

Thank you for the request anon; I hope you like it! I also wrote this for one of my @spnkinkbingo squares - Infidelity 

I really struggled to write this one but I was hoping that this may bring some perspective into the mind of someone who strays? Any feedback is greatly appreciated and any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :)

Your head pounded violently as you stared into the bright light of the sun. Stumbling out of the dingy motel, you shielded your eyes as you walked. With the start of a new day and a lack of alcohol, you were realizing the huge mistake you had made. You don’t even remember the name of the guy you left in the room; he was just as forgettable as your night together. All you had to take away from it was a severe hangover and an overwhelming amount of guilt. You were a cheater and now you had to go home and tell Dean what you had done. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you walked to the bar where you had left your car. Your stomach rolled violently and you darted sideways into the grass as vomit rose up in your throat. You heaved into the bushes for a moment before groaning in pain. It was a hot day and both the heat and your dehydrated body made the walk painfully slow. By the time you reached your car, it was mid afternoon. You jumped in and turned the key before plugging your dead phone in on the charger you kept there. 

Your heart sank when you saw the five missed calls from Dean. Shit. No texts, no voicemails. Your heart started to race thinking about the fight you had last night. It was the same argument you had many times before. It was about work and how you felt like Dean cared more about hunting than you. 

"You're always gone Dean and I never know if or when you're coming back. I always get left behind and I'm so scared. We both know that one of these days you're not going to walk back through that door and I don't know what I'm going to do when that happens." 

His response was, "You knew what you signed up for." You had gone round and round for hours before you stormed out of the bunker and drove to a bar outside of town. With a sigh, Dean had let you leave without further argument. Your only plan was to get drunk and sleep in your car. However, when the guy at the bar had started to flirt with you, you hadn't told him off or said you had a boyfriend. It was harmless, even flattering at first, but when the drinks kept coming, your inhibitions went out the window. You forgot about your big fight with Dean and all the fear and loneliness you had been feeling and you let him take you to a motel. 

Tears rolled down your face as you drove home. What could you say? It didn't matter how sad and lonely you were. It didn't matter how drunk you had been. It didn't matter that it meant nothing to you. You were still a cheater and you knew this would hurt Dean. You knew, even if Dean could forgive you, you would never forgive yourself. The drive was quick and before you knew it, you were pulling into the bunker’s garage. You probably looked just as bad as you felt and you cried harder for a moment before you wiped your eyes and stepped out of the car. Time to face the music you thought to yourself. You found Dean in the kitchen where he was making himself a sandwich. Thankfully, Sam wasn’t there to witness what was about to unfold. 

Setting your bag on the table, you cleared your throat and Dean half turned to greet you. Seeing your face, he fully turned around. His eyes were worried but everything else about him was tense as he leaned against the counter, his arms crossed and his jaw shut tight. He didn’t rush over to you and ask if you were okay. He didn’t move or say anything at all, just waited for you to explain. In a sob you rushed out an explanation, 

“I was with someone last night. I..I’m so fucking sorry Dean. It didn’t mean anything and I was shit-faced drunk. I...I don’t expect you to forgive me but please know I regret it and I will never ever do it again. I love you..so much and I am just so scared of losing you.” The tears had started again and they ran down your face as the words rushed out of your mouth. You had started hiccuping about half way through and the anxiety and fear in your stomach was growing as Dean continued to stare blankly at you. Oh God. Please say something. After a long moment, Dean turned back around and finished making his sandwich before he walked right past you out of the room. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t even look at you and your heart sank. Dropping into a chair at the table, you buried your head in your hands and sobbed. 

-

It had been days before Dean had even looked at you. After you had come home and told him what you did, you had taken a long shower and had gone back to your shared room to find Dean’s things gone. This was the first time you had not slept together, while Dean was home, since you had started dating a year ago. A few weeks passed and still, Dean had barely spoken to you. Anytime you tried talking to him about anything other than work or meals, he would ignore you and walk away. You knew you had to give him time and space to work through his emotions but you were terrified he would never forgive you. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t even know what you guys were anymore. He hadn’t said the words to break up with you and he hadn’t asked you to leave but it was like you had become awkward roommates. Sam had obviously noticed the tension and had asked you a few times what had happened. Eventually you had broken down and told him everything. He was shocked and disappointed but he had hugged you and said something generic like “you guys will work through it.” There was no sincerity in his voice though. Neither of you thought Dean would forgive you. He would most likely push you away completely and then you would be just another person who let him down. 

A few weeks turned into a month and nothing changed. Sam and Dean continued to hunt and you continued to stay home, researching and keeping things in order until they got back. Dean had never moved back into your shared room so you had resorted to stealing his clothes and climbing into his bed when he wasn’t home. You missed him desperately. You missed his gorgeous smile and boisterous laugh. You missed his touch. You couldn’t remember the last time Dean had hugged you, let alone kissed you. The loneliness and grief you had felt before had grown tenfold. Most nights you cried yourself to sleep hugging Dean’s pillow or one of his soft shirts. 

-

It had been over a month of walking on eggshells and sleepless nights when things finally changed. The boys had come home from a hunt and you had gone to bed early. Not quite asleep, you were shaken awake violently and your eyes flew open to find Dean’s angry and heated ones, staring at you in the dark. Sitting up in bed, you had reached for him, to ask what was wrong, but Dean growled and flipped you over. Bending your body so you were on your knees, you felt his hand reach out and yank your panties down your legs. Gasping, you cried out when Dean slapped your ass, hard, before bringing his fingers to your sex. This had been the first time you had been touched in weeks and you moaned and pushed yourself onto Dean’s hand. He growled and pulled his hand away before he slapped your ass again. You heard rustling behind you before Dean leaned close to your ear and demanded, 

“I want you and I won’t be gentle. Tell me I can have you; tell me you want this.” 

Whimpering you nodded in the dark before quietly answering him, “I’m yours, Dean.” 

A second later you felt him behind you. He slapped your ass one more time and then plunged into you from behind. You cried out again from surprise, not pain. From this position, he filled you completely and the sensations you were feeling were so intense. It felt so damn good. Dean let you adjust to him for a few seconds before pulling out and slamming into you again. He did this over and over for a while, occasionally grunting or growling like an animal. You moaned at the intense rhythm. It was aggressive and rushed and not at all like your previous lovemaking but it felt amazing. Dean was fucking you, with no consideration of your own pleasure. Your nipples rubbed against your shirt and you reached a hand back to rub your clit but Dean grabbed it. He didn’t want you to find pleasure in this and tears pooled in your eyes as you realized Dean was using you. This was a punishment for what you had done. In a broken voice you croaked, “Dean, stop.” 

He did immediately. You felt him pull out of you and the bed dipped as he got off. You flipped over and reached out to turn your lamp on. Dean was already trying to walk out the door and you cried out, “Enough is enough Dean Winchester! You can be pissed at me but you can NOT use me and walk away. I have been patient but we are going to talk. Now.” His steps faltered and he paused at the door before spinning around. You gasped at the look on his face. He was furious.  

“You want to talk. Fine.”   

You got out of bed at the same time as Dean took three large strides back into the room. You were now standing before each other, both angry and finally ready to talk. Dean practically screamed in your face. “HOW COULD YOU?! Y/N, how could you let some douchebag touch you. How could you let it go so far? How could you stay the night?” His face and voice had changed from rage to sadness. His eyes were so sad it made the tears you had been trying to hold back fall freely. He was so hurt and it was your fault. 

“Dean. I..I never would have done it sober. I was so lonely and so sad and scared that you were going to die on a hunt and that I would never see you again. I drank way too much to drown it all out and it just happened. I don’t even remember the encounter. I will never forgive myself but I need to know if we can get past this. If we can’t, then there’s no sense in dragging this out.” 

Dean had started crying too and he looked up at the ceiling as if he was looking for some kind of direction from God. In a soft voice he said, “I don’t know if I can get past this Y/N. I don’t know if I will be able to trust you again.” Your heart broke at his words and you let out a long sigh. “What if we go back to what we were before? I know it won’t be easy..but what if we just work on being friends again? Maybe we can work past this over time.” Dean nodded and hope filled your chest for the first time in a long time.

-

It took close to a year for the wounds to begin healing. You never had any more sexual contact after that night and it was months before Dean hugged you. Your heart fluttered when he did and quietly you had thought to yourself that it was worth the wait. You made an effort to keep the bunker stocked with his favorite things like beer, whiskey, and a wide array of pies that you would bake for him. You started small at first, watching TV and movies or cooking dinner together. After a while you would go on supply runs together and eventually, you were even invited to go on a hunt. You were not allowed to fight or do anything you had no training or experience in but it felt so good to be included. You felt like you were a part of the team and that had started to mend your broken heart. You and Dean had started talking about more than just work. Without either of you saying it, it had felt like he was starting to forgive you. You blushed thinking about the few times where you had caught Dean checking you out; and vice-versa. You still felt the guilt from cheating, that would never really go away, but life was moving on and you knew that you and Dean had a chance of getting past it. Deep down you knew you would be together again and you would be stronger than you were before.

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@akshi8278 @wellfuckmyexistence @spnkinkbingo​ 

[fictionalabyss]

Protector : Despair.

Pairing : Dean x Reader, Sam, Brady, Alex (oc), Abby (oc)

Word count :    2,233

Warnings : Panic/fear,  stalking/following (mentioned), nightmares, protective Sam, scared Alex. Series TW : Domestic Abuse is a constant topic- be it mentioned, or actually happening.

Continuation of this series was commissioned by : @iflostreturntosteverogers

Part 20 of Protector.

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You sat licking your lips and looking down at your phone. Today had been a day from hell. Scariest day of your life since the day your ex husband had shown up at your door and beat the shit out of you. And this time, there was no Dean to make it stop. You’d been home for a bit now, unable to relax, unable to stop your mind from coming up with the worst possible scenarios.

Alex had left school when he spotted Ash outside doing a walk of the perimeter, stood up mid lecture, grabbed his books, his bag and walked out. He knew if a patched member was at the school, it meant trouble. He’d burst into the house almost in a panic, making sure you and Abby were okay, telling you Ash had given him a quick rundown.

Now he was with his sister in the kitchen, keeping her occupied while Sam started on an early supper to distract everyone.

Looking down at your phone, you sighed and scrolled through your contacts before selecting one and hitting call.

“Sullivan and Rothman, how can I help you?”

“I’m calling for Tyson Brady.”

“Name?”

“Y/N Winchester.”

“Hold please.”

It took a few minutes, but then the elevator style hold music shut off and you could almost hear the smile in Brady’s voice when he picked up with a “And what can I do for the biker princess?”

“Hopefully help.”

“What’s wrong?” his tone had changed completely and you could almost picture his lawyerly frown.

You licked your lips before filling him in. “Remember when Dean was arrested?”

“Yeah, Bakers bullshit stunt to buy time, what about it?”

“Baker told some guy who I was, that I was Dean’s wife. He was a guy from a rival MC or gang or something, I don’t know… but-”

“But?”

“He’s following me.”

“You’re sure?” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, and it was almost like he just knew before he asked “How?”

“Someone sent Dean pictures of me and Sam in the front yard yesterday. He said the only thing other than the pictures was a PObox. There was no name, no nothing-”

“So you don’t know it was him.”

“Not for sure, no..”

“You got the PO number?”

“Uh, no. Dean didn’t tell me.”

“I’ll call him for that..” you heard rummaging and then quiet. “That can’t be it, though..”

“No.. today, I saw him.”

“The guy? Where?”

“Grocery store. He was following me, watching me.” you swallowed, looking down again as tears filled your eyes once more. “I’m scared, Brady.. It was just me and Abby, and he was there, he- he just stood there and watched us.”

“When?”

“About an hour ago? I called Sam crying, he ran to the store and the guy was just gone. What if it’s him who sent the pictures to Dean? It means he knows where I live. Dean’s flipping out, I’m scared he’s going to do something stupid in there and I’m scared this asshole is going to get me out here, and- I- I didn’t know who else to call but you..”

“Hey, relax, okay? Look, you did good calling me. I’m going to officially represent you, okay? I’m not just Alex’s lawyer anymore, I’m yours now. Look, I’m gonna grab the next flight in, okay? Might be a few days, but I’ll come down, I’ll meet up with Dean's lawyer and see what we can find out about these pictures, and I’ll file another report against Baker.”

“I’m so fucking scared…”

“I know. I know. You’re not alone, are you?”

“No. Dean made Sam move in a few days ago.” You glanced up as Brutus padded into the room. Patting your thigh, he came over and rested his head on it, head tilting to encourage you to scratch behind his ear. You were happy to obliged.

“Okay. That’s good. How’s Alex?”

“Freaked out too. I sent some MC guys to make sure he was safe at school, it freaked him out and he rushed home.”

“Look, I’m about to check for a flight. I see you when I get to town. I’m also going to reach out to Dean’s lawyer. If I find out anything before I see you, I’ll call.”

“Thanks, Brady. I don’t know where we’d be without you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. See you soon.”

As you hung up, you ran your thumb along the side of your phone. You wished Dean would call again, just so you knew he was okay, that he hadn’t done something stupid. “Please..” you whispered while staring at your screen. “Please please please..”

“You okay?” You looked up at Sam standing in the doorway, and he sighed. “Of course you're not. Did you call Dean’s lawyer?”

You shook your head. “Brady. He’s uh- he’s gonna come down. Get up Bakers ass again, talk to Dean’s lawyer for me..” you bit your bottom lip and started to chew on it. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Being here. That day. Today. Brady. Take your pick.”

“You’re family.” he gave you a soft smile. “Go on up and take a warm shower. Dinner won't be ready for about an hour, so you’ve got time. I know it’s hard for you to relax, but-”

“I’m pregnant, so I need to try. I know.” Sighing, you dropped your phone onto the coffee table before making your way to the stairs, Brutus following behind you at first but he stopped to sit next to his master. “Sam?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.” without another word from either of you, you made your way up the stairs and into your bedroom. Once the door shut behind you, you leaned on it and looked around. Pictures on the dressers, his clothes, his things, this was the hardest that it had hit you that Dean wasn’t here, he couldn’t protect you. Letting yourself slide to the floor, you gave yourself a few minutes to cry.

You were running, running, always running. Running from something, something you could feel more than see. A feeling, one of dread. Terror. The kind of terror that left a pit in your stomach and made you want to throw up, but you couldn’t, you had to keep running. Running through the streets, running through trees, through houses, the scenery always changed but you weren’t getting anywhere, you weren’t getting any farther away from it. You were running with something hot on your tail and no end in sight.

Tears streamed down your face, sweat clung to your skin as you pushed yourself harder, faster, frantically looking as you ran, looking for your safe place. Looking for Dean.

You skidded to a halt in the endless aisles of a supermarket when you came face to face with a man you’d only ever seen. He was massive, giant, built like a tank that could never be taken down. He took up the whole aisle, you couldn’t see anything, not even light beyond him. He was darkness and dread that swallowed it all up, and he had his eyes set on you.

You turned and ran, back down the way you’d come. A glance behind you showed you that he was following. Not running, but keeping up all the same.

And then you slammed into something. A hard body that sent a chill of terror down your spine.

You were shaking as you looked up at him, a face you’d hadn’t seen in years, not even in your worst nightmares. “No..” you shook your head frantically trying to get some distance from him. “No.. no.”

“Where’s my son?”

“Please…” you begged, stumbling as you stepped back and fell to the ground. You tried to scurry away only to bump your back against legs. Dread and terror now towered over you. The man who tried to kill you once, and the man who wanted to do it now. “Please.. This isn’t real.” you  sobbed, backing against a shelf and curling up as small as you could. “You’re not real. You’re not real. You’re not real..” the words on repeat as all light was blocked out and your world got dark. It suddenly felt like you were falling.

Despair.

There was no help, no one was coming to save you this time. They had you trapped and cornered and it would hurt even more than the last time, you knew that. You were surrounded by darkness and pain that wouldn’t relent and no one was coming to save you this time.

This was it.

He’d finally kill you.

“Please..” you sobbed before letting out a pained cry.

You hear a crash and barking, then feel someone grabbing at you. It puts you in a panic, you start screaming, louder and louder, pushing, fighting as you get pulled up to sit.

“Hey! Hey, relax, it’s me, it’s Sam.” You keep fighting, eyes now open and darting around in fear. It’s your room, you’re in your room but is it real this time? Is this really Sam holding your shoulders. “Hey. It was just a bad dream, I’m here, I’ve got you.”

You looked at him, searching his face for truth. “Are you-”

“I’m real, I’m here.” A large hand cupped your cheek, his attempt at grounding you again, proving to you that he’s in fact right there to save you from whatever had put so much fear in you. Your hand went to his chest. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingers proved to you he was real. He was real. He was here, and he had saved you. You didn’t say a word, the tears started pouring out again and you let him wrap his arms around you. You sobbed against his shoulder. “It was just a bad dream.” he soothed, hand smoothing down your hair and down your back before coming up and repeating the movement. “It was just a bad dream. I’ve got you.”

Hearing the creak of the floor boards, your eyes opened again to see Alex in the doorway, his eyes full of worry. “Mom?”

Sam lets you go, even though you’re still shaking, even though the tears haven’t stopped yet, he lets you go. “Alex.” you breath on a sob, and he’s rushing in to you, all but throwing himself against you as you wrap your arms around your son, clinging to the back of his shirt as you cry.

“You scared me, mom. I heard you screaming and I-” You duck your head, burying it against his shoulder. “I haven’t heard you scream like that in so long. Not since dad.”

“He was there.” you whisper against him. “He was there, him and that guy.. They- they had me trapped and no one would help me.” you were shaking with sobs again. “I couldn’t get away. I couldn’t get away.”

Alex started to rock you, side to side like you had done to him when he was small. “Yeah.” Alex nodded. “I remember those dreams.” Alex sighs now before whispering. “I have them too.”

It's a few minutes of quiet between you, Alex gently rocking you while Sam quietly watched, his brow still furrowed with a worried frown. “I know you’re probably too old, but-”

“I’ll stay, mom.” He pulls away now, still holding you, but now he’s looking in your eyes. “If you need me, I’ll stay. Just like Dean always did for me.”

You sniffle, hand now cupping his cheek as you smile at him and nod. You’re so proud of him, proud of this brave and strong man he’s growing up to be. “I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.” he smiled. “Let’s try and get back to sleep, okay?”  You nodded, both of you letting each other go as you laid back, letting yourself get comfortable again, as Alex got in next to you.

“How about I get Abby.” Sam says quietly from where you find him standing by the door. “You need your family right now.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

He gives you a smile before he walks out. A moment later, you hear him coming back up the hall with a sleeping Abby in his arms. You pull the blanket down, and Sam lays her between you and Alex so she’s nestled right in the middle. Pulling the blanket up, Abby just shifts and rolls so she’s facing Alex, making him smile at her before he closes his eyes.

When Sam pulls away from the bed, you look over at him. You don’t realize you’re afraid he’ll leave until he speaks in a soothing tone and promises “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here, I promise.” You watch him as he walks around to the foot of the bed and gets comfortable in Dean’s armchair by the closet. “Get some sleep.” he says as he tries getting comfortable.

Once you’re sure he means it, that he isn’t leaving, you wrap your arms around Abby and duck your head so your nose is in her hair and breath in the scent of her watermelon shampoo.

You’re not alone.

You’re not alone.

You’re not alone.

He can’t get you.

He’s not real and you’re not alone.

Finally, you close your eyes again and pray for better dreams as you feel the weight of Brutus jumping onto your bed and curling up on top of your feet.

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