James Barnes (Bucky) is your new flatmate and so far living together has not gone very well.
2K.
Warnings:Not a smut,kinda soft but with a little bit of spicy. (Eng not my first language.)
You hadn’t even been living together for two months and you already couldn’t stand that asshole named James Buchanan Barnes. The cost of living in New York was exorbitant and when your flatmate left you alone without a previous notice you had no choice but to accept the first stranger who answered your ad, well the first one who didn’t look like a serial killer or a pervert. How wrong you were… Sleeping at night had become impossible, when James didn’t bring a girl, he spent the nights tossing and turning in his room. That man didn’t know what rest meant. If things went on like that, your bosses were going to throw you out of work, nobody wanted a zombie for an employee.
You needed a way to bring the matter up and make it clear to your flatmate that he had to learn to be less noisy. But how could you look him in the face and tell him that his hoarse moans were keeping you awake at night?
Well ,that morning was going to be the definitive one, during breakfast you would tell him. The night before the blue-eyed man hadn’t brought any friend with him, so you wouldn’t have to face a naked stranger, just a freshly risen James, with tousled hair, no shirt, and grey sweatpants that left little to the imagination. Shit, if you hated him so much for depriving you of a good night’s rest, why did you bite your lip until it almost bled when you were in the same room?
“Good morning,” his deep morning voice caught you off guard, making you almost choke with your coffee when he showed up in the kitchen.
“Morning” was the only thing you could mumble, all the determination you had gathered a few minutes before, disappeared in the presence of that man. “I was about to make pancakes, do you want some?” you managed to pull yourself together, your main idea was to soften him up with some treat and then drop the bomb.
“Sure” he accepted, a little suspicious. The fake smile on your face did not go unnoticed. Normally the only thing he got out of you in the mornings was a grunt or two.
You turned your back to him to focus on making breakfast, you just hoped you didn’t burn anything, you knew your kindness hadn’t gone unnoticed and James was analysing you from head to toe, making your stomach tingle from that intense stare.
You devoured the pancakes in complete silence. In the short time you had lived together you hadn’t found anything in common, so apart from things to do with the rent or the bills, you had nothing to talk about. But Barnes didn’t seem to mind, he was too captivated by the way you were sucking on the honey-coated fork, although it didn’t escape his notice that you wanted to tell him something, even he could hear the gears in your head turning.
“Just say it.” he grunted as your tongue went from playing with the fork to your lips, that game was starting to cause him problems in his sweatpants, and it wasn’t easy trying to hide his half-erection.
“Eh?” your innocent expression made him even more upset.
“If you have something to say to me, say it now, I don’t have all morning,” he sounded more abrupt than he meant it to, but that only made all your pent-up rage of those days come out of your mouth, unfiltered.
“All right, that’s what you want… how about you keep your fucking voice down when you bring someone to the flat or better yet, why don’t you join one of those sex addiction groups? Because you’ve got a fucking problem and I’m not going to put up with any more sleepless nights,” you blurted out without thinking, your eyes fixed on the blue ones that seemed to open wider and wider with every word that came out of your mouth.
Barnes’ astonished face turned into a grin of amusement as he recovered from your speech, “Ohh, honey, I think you’re overreacting. You’re not jealous that I’m the only one having fun at night, are you?” he took you by your chin, caressing your jawline.
“How dare you?” you slapped him away and you were really close to punch him in his pretty face but you restrained yourself. Revenge sounded better. If he wanted to go the hard way that’s how it would be, you were going to give him a taste of his own medicine.
***
You had been chatting with a guy for a few weeks, he was cute but just not interesting enough to want to get to know him more. He had insisted a couple of times to meet and you finally found the reasons to do so. That idiot James was going to have to eat his words. Who did he think he was? The worst thing is that you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Barnes all day. You only wanted to get revenge, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that that caress had left you longing for something you couldn’t yet put into words, but your imagination had, and it had given you a very clear picture of what it would be like to have James on top of you. Fuck! You just wanted to forget about it, and focus on your revenge. The date was set up, you and that guy were to meet at a bar near your house, just a little warm up before taking him with you and show Bucky how things worked.
A few hours later you were playing with your Martini. That man was really boring; he only knew to talk about him and his exes. He was so absorbed in himself that he didn’t care if you were listening or not and you only could think about running away, but you had already gone too far… With a coy smile you touched his arm and batting your lashes you tried to get his attention. "I know a better place to talk.” you said almost without recognizing your own voice. “My flat is very close… What do you say?” you made yourself sick. Why is it that deep down all felt so wrong?
By the time you got to your flat you were shaking in your boots, you were regretting your wonderful idea, but your stubbornness prevented you from letting James get away with it. As soon as you turned the key the last thing you expected to find was your enemy waiting for you to return, or that was the impression you got when your gazes met, Barnes had got up from the sofa and seemed to want to say something to you, but it was enough for the dark-haired man to see your companion for that feeling to disappear. “Who is this guy?” James asked with his worst manners.
“Oh, Hi, I didn’t know you’d be home” you lied through your teeth. “We don’t want to disturb you, my friend and I will be in my room.” you tried to sound as innocent as possible. It’s fair to say that you had completely forgotten the guy’s name.
“Y/n can I talk to you for a moment?” James approached you, blocking your way to your room, but you didn’t have time to dodge him because all you could think about was how good he smelled. Someone had taken a shower and his cologne was knocking out all your common sense. It was lavender and mint, right? At that point the other guy seemed to have ceased to exist.
“We can talk later.” you managed to articulate as you came to your senses.
“Don’t do this…” he stopped you by grabbing your wrist but not forcibly, just to stop you from running off with that loser. His voice sounded almost the same as always, but if you hadn’t been so nervous you would have noticed that his eyes were tinged with desperation.
“Okay, okay, what’s going on here?” That big mouth remembered how to talk. The weird vibes you two were giving was too much to handle for his small brain. James stepped away from you and you froze, not knowing what to say. “Is this some weird thing like couples who like to see each other with someone else?” he added, leaving you dumbfounded. Before you could react, your flatmate did.
“Get out of my fucking house!” he imposed, bringing out for the first time the soldier he once was. One of the few things you knew about him was that he was a veteran, but that was something he never used to talk about. His dog tags hanging around his neck gave you an idea.
Then, it all happened so fast that it seemed unreal. Barnes was shoving your date out and he was being more dick than ever. After slamming the door shut, James cornered you against it. “What the fuck was that all about?” he questioned, blocking your escape with his muscular arms. He was pissed off, you could tell by the swollen vein on his forehead and how his breath had become heavier.
“I just wanted to have some fun…” you managed to articulate with your eyes locked on the ground as you were unable to look him in the face, too embarrassed by everything that had just happened. “Besides, I don’t owe you any explanation.” you dared to add.
“So you want to have fun, right?” he seemed to snap, “I can fix that.” his voice lowered a few tones and your whole body shivered when he made you look at him. “You only have to ask nicely…” his gaze looked wolfish and hungry. If he needed a reaction from you to keep going, the way you were biting your lips was enough, but at that point he wanted to make you beg.
“Why should I?” you arched your brows with all the strength you had left. He was driving you crazy, but in a completely different way than before, however you didn’t want to give up so easily. Barnes stroked your arm, barely touching you, but immediately causing goose bumps all over your skin.
“Because that’s all you can think about since this morning.” he saw right through you, but it didn’t save him from being a jerk. That was enough… You were tired of him playing with you.
“Fuck you!” you pushed him with all your might, but before you could get away, he lifted you over his shoulder and carried you to his room. On the way you kicked as much as you could, but it was like hitting a wall. He left you on the edge of his bed, and crouched down in front of you with his hands up, wanting you to know that he was coming in peace. “I know I owe you an apology.“ he looked genuinely sorry, “This morning I behaved like a dick.”.
“Only this morning?” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze because you knew you would be unable to resist his puppy eyes. James sat down next to you and let out a low snort.
"I know I haven’t been the best flatmate.” Then he plopped down on the bed and his gaze was lost somewhere on the ceiling. “I have no excuse, but this is the first time I’ve lived with anyone after leaving the army.” he confessed and it felt like that was the first time you had a real conversation. “I guess I’ve lost my manners.”
You dropped down next to him, mirroring him. “Your manners aren’t the problem, you just need to stop moaning so loudly,” you chuckled to yourself and rolled onto your side to make yourself more comfortable, finding yourself face to face with James. You felt your cheeks flush, you had never seen Barnes like that before, without that armour that seemed to accompany him everywhere he went. “I’ll try my best.” he laughed with you.
You let silence fall between both of you and just stared at each other. Without really knowing how, the distance between you was getting shorter, your eyes kept going back and forth from James’ eyes to his lips, he seemed to notice and with a soft grin in his face he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You were his first follower and you were given your price for that.
You were the first to ever make him think differently, to see humans as they were and not just the bad.
You were the only one to even steal his heart.
Khonshu, the God of the Moon. Not many liked him, but he was okay with that. During the ancient days, while other Gods and Goddesses hair temples, statues and even tombs raised for them, he wasn’t loved.
No one cared for the God of the Moon as he was feared. Night was his domain, and everyone knew only bad things happened at night.
And yet, there you were, nothing but a young miss in your house’s humble little garden, after a long day at work, looking at the sky, dreaming about it, seeing the stars and the moon, you fell in love with the night sky.
And so, you found Khonshu.
Or rather he found you.
He became interested more so when he first heard prayers. Your voice rang in his head, even if he didn’t know it was you at first.
He wasn’t used to people praying to him.
But he thought he could get used to hearing your voice every night.
Then, he headed out to find you, walking in the desert as he heard your words ring in his head. Your prayers were simple and kind.
It didn’t take long for Khonshu to find you. One evening, he noticed you as you watched the sky, you looked so happy, comfortable and unbothered. Not like the others during the night.
You made him interested.
In your prayers, you wished for health for your family and friends, in case of trouble you prayed for the people involved to be safe.
He noticed how you never asked for anything for yourself. Never. Not once.
Until one day, which he couldn’t ignore. You begged for your mother to be saved from a disease.
“Please Khonshu, please save her and I will do anything you wish for.” You said as you were crying and praying in front of a candle and a small wooden sculpture of Khonsu that you made with your own hands.
“Anything?” he asked at it made you just so quickly that you knocked the figure over. You looked at the huge God standing in front of you, you felt like you were going mad, but it was him, no doubt, Khonsu was standing right in front of you and you suddenly knew what you needed to do.
You knelt on the floor, eyes fixed onto the ground.
“Anything.” You said with a shaky voice.
“For your mother’s life, I will take yours in exchange.” A cold wind ran down your spine from his words. “You will be by my side, you will dedicate your life to me. You do notquestion my decisions, forever till the end of time.” He said.
For your mother, you’d do anything. For your mother’s health this seemed like a small thing in comparison. To dedicate your life to a God, just when you thought your life would have no point.
“Of course, Khonshu.”
—
Days, months, years, decades, centuries passed.
And you were still by his side. After a couple years you were sure Khonshu would get bored of you, but it never happened. He really wanted you by his side.
You were through it all. His little priestess. You were there when the Gods decided they won’t walk with the humans any longer. You were there when they decided to take avatars and when they all banished Khonshu because of his beliefs.
You were there by his side when another god tried to take you away from him, jealous of the relationship you had with Khonshu.
But you were his.
Then, he started to take avatars. One after the other, although you were not a fan of his cruel methods, you were blinded by your feelings for the God of the Moon.
Something about his possessive nature made you feel incredibly safe and you really liked it.
Over the many many years, you grown to love Khonshu, you loved him for the God that he was and for the protection he gave you.
Seeing him in the modern world was something that made you laugh. As the world changed, so did you, well, at least your looks.
But seeing him standing next to a bus or watching as he sat on top of a big statue, when you always feared heights.
And he knew that.
So, one evening he brought you to the very top of the Empire State Building.
You felt sick.
“Please, can we just go down.” You said as you hugged a pillar, feeling sick to your stomach.
“Look at the view.” He said.
You opened one eye, barely seeing anything through your tears before you closed your eyes again.
“Beautiful, now can we leave please?”
He sighed before he put his staff down and grabbed your waist, pulling you away from the pillar, you hugged him instead. He was hugetowering over you like a giant. But you were scared. Extremely scared.
“You are safe with me, I told you before, I proved it to you before during the wars.”
“Yes, but this is very different. I’m terrified of heights and you know that.”
“Of course I do. I know everything about My Little One.” He moved and you tightened your hold on him. “But you have nothing to fear. The night sky will always protect you, Iwill always protect you.”
“I know that, but I am still scared.”
“Or you just like to hold me.”
“No, I prefer it when you hold me. Makes me feel more safe.” Just as you said that his arms moved around you, immediately making you feel a little better. Good enough to make you open your eyes, but you felt dizzy.
“Look at the sky. It will forever guide you to me.”
“Not like I’m allowed to leave your side.”
“No, but I found a new avatar. I have things to deal with.” You nodded, this wasn’t the first, nor will it be the last.
But you managed to take a look at the view from the top of the building, seeing everything and the people below you, you were scared, but him holding you so secure, you felt a lot better.
—
Technically, his next avatar wasn’t supposed to be Marc Spector.
You assumed Khonshu would hide you from Marc just as he did before, but surprisingly, he didn’t. Because when the man turned up in your home, you were both confused and happy.
Marc was a handsome man, yes, you weren’t blind, but he had so many inner demons, you just wanted to hug him.
“This is my wife, Marc so behave.” Khonshu said as he sat down in the corner where he always preferred to sit, to oversee everything.
Wife? Khonshu often called you by cute names. Little One or My Priestess, but he never once mentioned you being a wife or anything like that. Even if you basically was his wifehe never said that before.
Marc looked confused from the God at you, you looked like a normal human as you smiled and waved at him.
“Are you hungry Marc?” you asked.
“Don’t feed him, come here. Marc will think about his next step.” You smiled again at Marc before walking over to Khonshu, who pulled you to sit on his lap. He was completely showing off to Marc just whoyou belong to.
And Marc respected that.
He truly did.
Even in the upcoming weeks, months.
—
You knocked on his door, finding it to be open, so you went in. You never expected to see him almost naked on the floor with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He looked at the mirror, you closed the door behind yourself, you looked into the mirror but all you saw was Marc.
“Steven?” you asked as you knelt down next to him.
“No.”
“Oh, Marc. What happened?” you asked as you looked him over, trying to find an injury, finding nothing you let out a relieved sigh.
But instead of answering, he took a big gulp of the almost empty bottle.
“You can talk to me you know?”
“I know but Khonshu might not like that.” Of course Marc would be a hard egg to crack, but you had time.
“You know, I used to be human. I lived in Egypt with my family. My mother got really sick, healthcare wasn’t as great as it is nowadays. She would have died if it wasn’t for Khonshu. I gave my life to serve him, so she would live a happy life. That was my deal.”
“So, you are not his wife then.”
“Technically no. But in a way, I am. He wants good for us, he never once hurt me.” You grabbed his hand as he looked into your eyes. “He saved your life as well.” That made Marc scoff as he took another shot from his bottle.
“He tricked me. And used me.”
“Well, duh. He said he was looking for someone. Someone to carry out his work. Of course, he would use you to hunt people Marc. What did you think he meant? Tea parties and cookies?” Marc pulled his hand away from your hold as he tried to stand but he failed. “I know you are in pain. Even the blind could see that you are suffering, but you have to know you are not alone. You have Steven, Khonshu and me. The moon and the night sky will always be there to keep you company.” You offered him a kind smile. And just as the sun was setting and the moon started to rise, you knew Marc was about to leave for another mission.
And surely enough, he had his suit on.
“Thank you Y/N.” he said before he literally jumped out the window.
“You are too kind to him.” Khonshu said from behind you.
“He needs it. You know just how broken he is. Even the smallest push would make him lose it, and I don’t want to lose him.”
“Youlovehim?”
“I do. But my heart belongs to you.” You turned to look at the God standing in front of you.
“You belong to me.” He said and you nodded as he walked closer and hugged you. “Mine.” He said before the two of you headed to the roof, he left to look after Marc while you watched the sky.
Summary: You and Marc got married a long time ago, even before all this mess happened and he got the suit.
A/N: Potential SPOILER warning for those who don’t know about Marc in the comics.
Marc wanted to keep you safe.
The less you knew, the better it was. At least that is what he believed. But you knew it all.
You weren’t blind or stupid you noticed your husband changing, sure he was always a little weird, but you could read him like a book.
You could, yet it still hurt whenever he left you behind, telling you not to look for him, call him or so anything to even be close to him.
And you listened, you sure did.
Only sent him texts, to which he responded a couple of days later. Then a call came. Suddenly out of nowhere.
“Hi, Honey.” you said picking up.
“O-Oh Sorry.” the guy on the other end said with a heavy accent. It made you tilt your head and he quickly hung up.
You tried to call him back but he didn’t pick up, so you just let it go.
Then Marc came home, saying he will spend the weekend with you. And you were happy.
Happy enough to bring that strange call up.
“Soooo, are you going to tell me who the sexy English man was?”
He looked at you questioningly as he stopped the movie you were watching.
“You called me last week, I picked up but a British guy answered and after babbling he hung up.”
“Oh.” was all he said, and you just waited.
And then, slowly he stood up, sitting down at a chair by the table and started to talk.
He walked about his childhood, his life and his mental issues. He told you about his identity disorder too.
And it all made sense.
Your heart broke for him. Marc was such a great person, kind, affectionate and trustworthy. And yet, here he was breaking down like a child.
You on the other hand was the kind of person who would rather laugh than cry. And your aching heart needed a distraction.
So, after Marc finished explaining what happened to him, you sat there for a moment, thinking about what to say. And the best you could come up with was.
“So, you are like a two for one special?” you asked and Marc just stared at you. “You know like those special offers in stores. I got you as a husband but I also got Steven and Jake, or how does that work?”
This was probably the first time in your life that you have seen Marc confused and not sure what to say.
“Don’t get me wrong your trauma is awful, I’m here if you want to talk about it more. I’m just not sure how to help. Maybe Jake or Steven wants to talk?” he just blinked, and it made you sigh. “Did I say something weird again?” you had a tendency to say weird things when you wanted to defuse the tension. But you two just stared at each other.
This went on for about five minutes.
Then he finally moved his arms from his legs.
And he laughed.
“I can’t believe you said “like those special offers in stores”. Who do you think I am?”
“You’re my husband, and I just want to know, how- IF this will change things. D.I.D. is serious, Marc, and I just want to be sure you are at least okay.”
“You know I’m okay, Sweetheart. And this will not change a thing. I always will be okay as long as I have you. This-“ he said gesturing to his head. “Is something you have to learn to live with. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m sorry, I was scared of your reaction.”
“You shouldn’t be, Marc. I love you, all of you. Even if they might not love me.”
Marc made a motion with his head like someone just told him something before he smiled.
“They do, at least Steven does. And you met Jake before.”
“I sure did. He is a flirty one.” you did, but you only realized now that it was him and not Marc. You laughed and stood up to hug him. He hugged your middle while you ran your fingers through his hair, slightly scratching his scalp. “Thank you for telling me all of this.”
“I love you. We love you.”
“And I love all of you too.”
You would be lying if you said you weren’t worried, of course, you were, but you also knew that you loved him and as long as you had him and he had you, everything will be okay.
A/n: pinch of angst in the beginning, fluff to finish it off, this chapter is the one thats really going to kick off the story, and where I plan on going with it the next few chapters, the further I go in the next chapters will more or less be able to give me an idea of how many chapters we’re looking at. As always I hope you enjoy and happy Readings Angels.
Your fingers danced along the granite stone, the cooled wind picking up around you as you knelt to the grass. Your fingers traced your fathers named engraved into the stone.
“He’s resting now sweetheart, he’s resting and watching over us,” your mother murmured softly her fingers resting on your shoulder.
“I still want to help ma,” you replied looking up at her through watery eyes, “I want to be able to help you retire, I want you to be stress free, I don’t want you to have to worry about working, I know you blame yourself for not being there, and I know his loss weighs heavier on your heart.”
Your mother gave you a tired smile, her hand squeezing your shoulder softly, “as much as I blame myself I know your father didn’t want that, he would have wanted it to be the way it was, he didn’t want us struggling, he didn’t want you to worry.”
“Some good that did,” you muttered looking away from her and back to the granite stone.
It had been two weeks since you lost your father and between planning a funeral and making sure his things were packaged away nicely so your mother wouldn’t cry herself sick, you had had no time to find that job you and your mother had spoken of the night your father passed.
It was a bitter sweet goodbye for the two of you, your mother taking the most hurt as she blamed herself for not being there. She mourned her first love, her only love.
Your mothers hand squeezed your shoulder once more, “I’ll help you to start look sweetheart,” she spoke after a brief silence, “but I can’t exactly give up the Barnes residence till Bucky has been fully given the go to start working directly for his father.”
Your eyes shot up to hers brows furrowed, “but the day that dad passed you said Bucky was being sworn in, was taking over for George.”
Your mother nodded a small smile tugging at her lips, “he was sworn in that night, but you know how the Barnes are, more specifically George, always has to go all out for his boy, now c’mon,” she murmured, “get up or you’ll ruin your dress further, George will be expecting us soon.”
A puff of air left your lips as you bunched your dress up, fingers catching the hem as you pushed to your feet. Letting the silk dress slip from your hand you brought your fingers to your lips before bringing them back down to the stone, “we’ll come visit you real soon pa,” you replied softly.
You looked to your mother, who took your hand in hers, “c’mon sweetheart let’s get going before George comes and finds us personally.”
Warnings: bit of possessive, jealous, bucky, smut 18+ (oral, fingering), ring kink.
A/n: T’was supposed to be a smutty drabble, but its definitely a smutty little one shot. Please read the warnings y’all this is 18+ there is smut here. Dedicating this smutty piece to my angel of all angels and the one who lives in my brain @lookiamtrying. She sends me one gif, ONE of Sebs hands with rings on it and uff this happened. Happy Readings Angels, and remember wrap it before you tap it!
Bucky wasn’t a possessive man by any means, he liked to give his girl the freedom she deserved, let her roam around the club freely, but he had to draw a line somewhere. And he was drawing the line at the burly man sizing you up at the bar.
He didn’t like to have to put people in their places, to have to show them where they belonged. He liked to keep his job and his girl apart from one another, two different worlds not meant to mix. His job was hard, it was mean, it was unforgiving and you, you reminded him of the kinder things in life.
It seems you liked to see him like this though, liked to see him sizing up other men, liked to have him grip you roughly as he pulled you through the crowds, Steve and Sam tending to the man at the bar.
A/n: There has been a few years time skip between the prelude and this part, but reader is still fairly young so bear that in mind please, the next chapter will also have a big time skip with reader being much older. I will try and explain it as well when we come to it. Anywho fell behind a day but we are officially back at work and training drained me yesterday BUT we are getting back on track hopefully with two updates today. Hope you all enjoy this little piece, and hopefully i can finish my two other WIPs this week or next week so that I can focus solely on Maidens Tale, with that being said, our next update for this series might not come as quick as i really want to finish 365 and baby its cold outside. THAT MEANS WE ARE EXTENDING MOB MONTH WELL INTO FEBRUARY!
yelena decides to go visit a place that brings her peace, only to find another there. (contains black widow and hawkeye spoilers) 1.1k
Leaning against the sink, Yelena blinks rapidly staring at her reflection. Immediately she notes the surroundings have changed, the wallpaper is different, the mirror she looks into differs entirely from mere seconds ago.
With a heavy sense of unease, she wanders out from the bathroom to see a family sitting there.
“Yelena,” The woman rises to her feet whilst her partner takes a hold of their child, backing away from the scene. “you’re back?”
“I, what’s happened?” Yelena manages to ask, bewildered by the reactions presented. “I just went in there and,” Trailing off, the woman helps her toward the couch and proceeds to explain what happened.
“And somehow, you, you’re back.” The woman chuckles in disbelief, sitting beside her old comrade after five years.
Nodding slowly, Yelena processes everything, feeling tears forming in her eyes at the realisation. “I, I have to find Natasha.” She quickly stands, her mind rushing with thoughts of her sister; her family. “Will you help me find her?”
“Of course.” The woman says, taking Yelena’s hand, squeezing it lightly.
*
It’d been a while since you’d visited. In truth, you were afraid to see it still standing there and facing the fact that she was really gone.
The look on Clint’s face when he returned alone, holding the stone in hand is one that haunts you. Hearing Natasha says with a smile ’see you in a minute’ with the hope that the plan would work still brings you to tears. Nothing’s the same, even if you were able to save everyone, you lost your best friend.
With a bunch of peonies clad in one hand, you approach the large tree and see the headstone beneath.
Bunches of flowers lay around the stone, her name embossed on the granite surface along with notes of adoration, thanks and appreciation. Most of the ink has run from the paper, now just a memory like Nat is.
“Hey, Nat,” You start, kneeling down to place the peonies in the centre of the pile, removing the withered ones aside. “of all the places, you really picked Ohio?” A chuckle sounds from you, picturing her smile at the thought, imagining her witty response. “Sorry it’s been a while, things haven’t exactly been the same since,” Trailing off, you stand back up, sensing someone else was with you.
Quickly, you turn around to see a blonde woman standing there, flowers in hand too as she stares right at you.
“Who’re you?” You’re the first to speak up, both of you keeping your ground and not daring to move first.
Few knew of Natasha’s final burial place, most left flowers near the Stark Tower.
“I could ask the same,” The blonde asks, her voice thick with a Russian accent. “why are you at Natasha’s grave?”
“What does it look like?” You quip, the tears you felt mere moments ago vanishing into anger. “I’m paying my respects for a friend, family even.” You tell the blonde, watching her shrug at your response. “And who are you to ask in the first place?”
Holding her hand up, you watch a look of realisation cross the woman’s face. “Holy Shit,” She starts. “you’re one of the Avengers aren’t you?” A laugh follows her question, one filled with sarcasm as opposed to excitement that usually follows with such.
“Yeah,” You tell her, sighing to yourself. “well, I was. I, I’m not really involved anymore.” Lowering your tone, you glance over to Natasha’s tone, seeing the words beneath her name. ’Daughter, Sister, Avenger.’
“I know who you are,” She states. “you’re Y/n. aren’t you?”
Nodding in response, the blonde steps closer. “Hold on,” You pause, paying closer attention to her. “no,” You mumble. “are you,”
The blonde raises a brow, noting the expression that mirrors the one she wore.
“Yelena?” Your voice almost cracks as Yelena’s expression changes from stubborn to sorrow. “Oh my god, you’re Nat’s sister.” A watery laugh sounds through your hands as you cover your mouth. “I, I can’t believe it.”
“You, you know who I am?” Yelena asks softly, a small frown playing on her lips.
“I, of course!” You admit. “Nat, she, she talked about you a lot. When we were on the run she told me about her sister, this amazing woman she’d turned into that she admired, and missed deeply.”
Without noticing, Yelena could feel tears fall down her cheeks.
“She really loved you, you know?” A sad smile etches itself on your face as Yelena nods to herself. “She’d be proud of you. Nat, she, she saved the world., for everyone.” Wiping away your own tears, Yelena sniffs loudly.
“I wish I got more time with her, you know?” Yelena painfully says. “You got to know her, she told me about you too. About her best friend, Y/n, the fighter with the gentle heart.”
You can’t help but chuckle at that. Of course, that’s what Nat would label you as.
“She told me we’d get on,” Yelena adds, half smiling to you. “I just wish she was here to see it all.”
Turning around, you face the grave once more as Yelena stands by your side. “What happened to her, I don’t think any of us will ever fully heal from.” You mutter, lifting your head up to see Yelena beside you with her eyes focused on the fresh peonies you placed.
“Why did she do it?” Yelena asks, knowing there are few who know the details, the truth behind her sisters death. “Clint Barton should not have let it happen, I,”
“Hey,” You interrupt her. “Clint wanted to go, I, we’ll never know what happened fully, but Natasha sacrificed herself for everyone, for Clint to have his family back and for you to come home.”
After a long silence, Yelena eventually finds her voice. “I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
Looking down, her fingers brush against yours lightly. “I know,” You whisper, hearing your words get lost into the breeze. “but Nat is looking over us, wherever she is.”
Yelena chuckles. “Oh, she is, probably drinking beer with that Tony Stark.”
“Sounds about right.” You add. “She’ll never be gone, not truly.”
Placing her flowers beside yours, Yelena returns to your side. “Thank you, Y/n.” She tells you. “I, I would like to hear more stories, if you have time?” Yelena asks apprehensively.
“We’re in Ohio, Yelena,” You remind her. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”
With a nod, the pair of you retreat from Natasha’s grave as the blossom on the tree blows down, clearing the last of the withered petals from her name.
A/N:I hope y’all enjoy this one! Another chapter of me correcting mistakes. lol I’m so sorry. I really really hope y’all like it. xoxo
Please DO NOT copy, translate, or repost my stories on any other blogs or sites!!
Don’t be an asshat!
Bucky grips the phone closer, staring at the screen in the semi-darkness of his hidey hole.
There’s a rustle and he shifts quickly, handgun pulled as he aims at the opening that is quickly obscured by a large body.
“Just me,” Steve assures him.
Bucky sighs, leaning back into the hard rock of his mini trench and slowly pulls his phone off of his chest. The brightness is set all the way down but it still shines like the sun in the small dark place.
As Steve’s soft grunts slow and his breathing evens out as he settles into his own small corner of their hole, Bucky forgets he’s there. Just for a moment as he stares at the last message you sent him.
The Kid: I hate it here.
Bucky had replied but you haven’t responded since. This was two days ago. He reads his message over again, wondering if maybe he’d said too much? Or…overstepped? Why else would you be ignoring him?
Bucky: I wish I could be there with you.
At times like this, he really hates being an Avenger.
“She still hasn’t replied?” Steve asks, obsessed with you and Bucky’s burgeoning relationship.
Not that there is a relationship yet.
“No. She’s probably busy finishing up with all the business stuff. Apparently her cousin had a lot of money he didn’t tell her about. And I think his new wife’s family are wanting a payout.”
“Why?” Steve wonders, checking his shield straps for weaknesses.
Bucky looks at his friend, noticing the nerves of being back on mission after having retired and he can tell he’s a little on edge.
“It’s just a recon, Steve.”
“For two weeks? Don’t you miss your girlfriend?”
Bucky sighs, “She’s not my girlfriend. Not yet…”
“And why is that? Oh yeah, because you choked.” Steve’s teasing is only half light hearted.
He’s frustrated with him, Bucky knows it.
“It’s not the right time. She just found out her cousin’s been dead for months. She also just inherited a life of security. Like, the amount of money is ridiculous.”
“Tony rich?” Steve wonders.
“Not even close,” Bucky shakes his head and clicks the phone off before slipping it back into his pocket. “But maybe a little more than halfway to Tony?”
“Buck,” Steve scoffs, “Do you know how much money Tony has? How would her cousin make that kind of money?”
“I don’t know,” Bucky admits. “But she said she didn’t know he even knew how to work a computer, much less the stock exchange. He got rich fast. I mean, fast for that kind of money.”
“Are you worried she’ll think you want her for her money now?” Steve asks.
Bucky looks slowly to Steve and his eyes widen with irritation, “Well, I didn’t until now!”
Steve laughs, throwing his head back and trying not to be loud.
“She knows I love her,” Bucky whispers, pulling his phone back out to look at your messages. “She just doesn’t remember I told her. Or that she told me.”
“So why did you do it when she was drunk?” Steve chastises.
“It kinda just happened. I wish I could be there with her. She’s so unhappy, Steve,” Bucky worries, his finger dangling over the call button.
“Buck, don’t.” Steve reaches over and takes the phone.
“Hey!”
He shuts it off and sticks it into his own pocket where Bucky can’t reach it easily..
“Like you said, it’s a recon mission. We’ll be back home soon. Maybe even before she reopens the shop. Just be patient. Focus. I need your mind here,” Steve reminds him.
“Why?” Bucky asks, irritated with his best friend again.
“Perhaps it’s because you’ve been spotted?” Says a strange accented voice from just outside of their cover. “Come up with your hands in the air and we won’t open fire into your pathetic little hole in the wall. And don’t try anything funny.”
“Shit,” Steve sighs, leaning back fully again as he stares at their makeshift wall of shrub that obviously didn’t work.
“Oh good, we can get out of here sooner.” Bucky posits. “What do you think? Just like France?”
“You didn’t have the metal arm in France.”
“That just means I won’t have to hide behind you,” Bucky tells him.
Steve picks his head up and after a moment adjusts his shield.
“France it is.”
At the same time, they both spring forward, shield and metal arm first.
~~~~~~~~~~
You’re not sure how many documents you’ve signed over the past two weeks. Too many.
You’re still wearing black. A little odd considering the practice of wearing black for weeks or months at a time when you lose someone to death has long since gone out of fashion but you can’t help but mourn Greg in at least this way.
You weren’t able to visit his grave or attend his funeral. He was buried in his wife’s family plot, halfway around the world on some country estate in England.
Considering he’s your only family, kind of a fucked up thing for them to do. But…he was their son-in-law. Even if it was only for a short time. And he did love Anita. It makes sense that he be buried with her.
The click of your keys in your lock and the quiet that greets you is slightly suffocating. You’re glad for the peace of silence and solitude, but you’d also love to have someone…anyone.
Well…maybe not just anyone.
As you meander into your apartment, not bothering to turn on a single light, you kick off your shoes, drop off your purse and keys on the kitchen island, and slump your way into your bedroom only to drop onto your bed in a heap of sadness and loneliness.
Weird that you’re a billionaire now and yet, you feel worse than ever. All the money in the world couldn’t bring back the belonging that Greg had given you.
You shut your eyes, almost willing yourself to cut the world out for a while when your phone dings.
Reaching for it blindly you click the screen on and swipe at the text preview without looking.
Bucky: You home?
You: Just.
Bucky: Alone?
There’s a loud knock on your window that makes you jump and through it you can see Paul. Drunk and waving. Luckily your window is locked.
After staring at Paul for a little bit and watching him sit down to try and pry your window open but because he’s too drunk to figure out to push it up from the middle if it weren’t locked, he grows more frustrated, you pull your phone back up and quickly type away.
You: Well, Paul’s drunk and trying to open my window so, kinda?
You watch your neighbor try and break in, unphased by his sloppy attempts and the subtle anger that grows in him. He won’t be able to get in and he can’t break the window. While he’s creepy and gross, he’s not violent in that way.
Besides, after the two weeks you’ve just had, how can Paul be any worse?
You aren’t aware of falling asleep.
Just as you’d wanted, the world falls away and there’s only darkness.
Your mind isn’t exactly asleep with you. Instead, thoughts about death swirl around your head. You wonder if Greg also is just seeing endless darkness pressing down on his eyes. Is he panicking because he can’t find his way out?
Or is it different? Did he never see darkness? Is he with his parents and yours now?
A weight on your bed makes it dip low and you open your eyes slowly.
Instead of Paul, you find steel blue eyes staring at you, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on you.
“Hey,” he whispers, so soft.
Bucky’s face is exquisite, as always. Except it’s also bruised.
You frown then reach out to touch the swelling and dark spots around his eye.
“Your eye,” you worry.
He reaches up and catches your hand with his, bringing them both down to rest between the two of you.
“I’m okay. Just a scuffle before we finished the last mission. Good news is I won’t have to go out again for a while, unless some fresh new disaster shows up suddenly.” He smiles.
“Good,” you nod, happy that he’ll be around now. “I missed you.”
Bucky’s face does some weird little flutter thing with his eyes and his lips curl up but not all the way. His eyebrows also shoot up into his hairline a little and you’re not sure exactly what this face means but he looks so sweet.
He takes his hand, releasing yours and places it on your cheek. His hand is so big it cups the entire side of your face.
“You okay?” He checks, and you can feel your face crumple. “Shh, I’ve got you.”
And he does.
He scoots closer and you lean towards him, gripping the front of his black t-shirt with both hands as he pulls you in against his chest. You hide your face into his neck and he holds you tight.
His embrace is everything and you finally let yourself fall to pieces there where you know he’ll hold you together.
~~~~~~~~~~
Despite his word about sticking around, Bucky leaves again. This time you know where he is and he texts you every day.
He even calls a few times.
He’s on the West Coast, traveling up and down with Captain America. With Sam, attending a series of conferences at newly opened S.W.O.R.D. facilities.
The two of them, mostly Sam to be honest, are the face of the new Avengers. With Steve mostly retired and keeping to a desk job, and all the others doing their own thing for now, the number of heroes available at the moment is small.
His absence is nothing new however, so for you the lack of physical contact doesn’t feel too out of place. What startles you more is his constant contact over the phone.
The small café Mr. Liu had chosen is very quiet and it almost feels rude to leave your phone sound up. You quickly switch it to vibrate.
You watch the older man putter towards you, his once dark hair now graying heavily. Even though it’s been only about a year since he made you the offer to buy out his place beside yours, he’s aged severely.
As he sits with the two cups of coffee, you take yours as he places it before you, he groans slightly.
“How is your wife, Mr. Liu?” you wonder, cupping the steaming cup closer but waiting for him to drink before you do.
Mr. Liu smiles at you, sadness radiating from his deep black eyes, “She’s in her final days. Spending as much of them with her family back home. Being back in China has been good for her. She missed her mother’s cooking I think.”
He chuckles and despite the pain of what will be losing his wife, he does sound happy that his wife has been happy.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Liu,” you offer, feeling Greg’s loss.
“We must all return to where we came from,” Mr. Liu nods. “But thank you for your kind words. You have always been so nice to us.”
He finally drinks and you follow suit.
“Tell me, have you decided to buy my shop?” He probes.
“I thought someone was renting it?”
“Their lease is up at the end of the month and I would like to tie up all our loose ends and settle in China.”
You hadn’t thought he’d renew the offer but your mind is already made up despite no advanced notice.
“I’ve actually already put in an offer to buy the entire building,” you tell him and his face goes slightly slack. “Do you remember my old partner?”
“The handsome boy? The one that got married?” he thinks.
“Yes,” you smile. Appreciating Greg’s identifier from Mr. Liu. “Well, he got very sick on his honeymoon and he and his wife passed away.”
“Oh,” Mr. Liu gasps, reaching over to take your hand as shock and grief play across his sweet face. “I am so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” you smile at him, the tear in your chest aching just a bit. “It turns out my partner, my cousin, he made a lot of money and he left it to me, so I can finally afford to purchase your shop. At triple the price, Mr. Liu.”
Mr. Liu’s face once again flies into shock but a different kind this time and his hand goes a little loose around your own. You take his hand and squeeze it, reassuring him as best you can.
“I know what a struggle your medical bills here have been and I’m sure the money would help back home too. I made a large bid so that the owners of the apartments above your shop would sell without a fight. So, please accept the offer, Mr. Liu. It’s all I can do for you and Mrs. Liu. Please?”
Mr. Liu hesitates. You can see the struggle he’s having, the argument in his head as he considers the hefty amount of money that you’re willing to pay him and how much of that is charity or what his shop is actually worth.
“Mr. Liu, please?” you whisper, squeezing his hand again.
You almost think he might say no the way he’s shaking his head, hesitating. Then he takes your hand with his other one and gives it a small shake.
“The shop is yours,” he agrees and you smile, so happy to be able to help him with this money you never asked for.
“I’ll have my accountant draw you a check,” you assure him and then shake your head, laughing lightly as you take your hands back to take a sip of your drink.
“What?” Mr. Liu wonders, observing the way you scoff in disbelief.
“My accountant? I just…it’s a different world than the one I walked a few weeks ago. That’s all.”
“I know exactly how you feel,” Mr. Liu agrees, probably thinking about how he’ll lose his wife soon.
“Will you keep me up to date, Mr. Liu? If it’s not too…if I’m not prying? I’d love to know how you and your wife are.”
He nods, reaching for his own cup to take a sip.
“And if I can offer any help, please don’t hesitate. I don’t have any family and I have even fewer people that I care for. Helping you would mean so much to me.”
After a moment of staring at you, he nods and puts his cup down.
“Now, tell me about this new boyfriend of yours,” he teases.
Your phone has been vibrating non-stop since you sat down and you sigh, laugh, and turn it over.
Bucky: What are you doing?
Bucky: Did you meet with Mr. Liu?
Bucky: Is he selling?
Bucky: These meetings are boring.
Bucky: Sam keeps talking. He could have finished like an hour ago if he’d just shut up.
Bucky: I wanna come home.
Bucky: I miss you.
Your stomach erupts into flutters. He’s been so different lately…well, the same but different.
Bucky: lol I just hit him with a spitball in the ear.
Bucky: Call me when you’re not busy?
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you tell Mr. Liu.
“Not yet, maybe.” Mr. Liu teases.
Your stomach flutters again and your heart fills with heat.
“I know that look,” he tells you. “It’s only a matter of time.”
Summary: After his deserter father is found dead in the Yukon, Omega Tony finds out he has inherited a plot of land. Curious to see what the hubbub is about - and why his father chose the Yukon over his mother and himself, Tony heads for Seattle, and then to Dyea, etc, and embarks on a crazy trek with one grumpy, scruffy Alpha hunter, and one bright eyed blonde Alpha guide.
Pre-and-During-the Klondike / Alaskan Gold Rush of 1896 on.
Summary:You think that moving to New York with your husband will help with your marital problems. However, things take a much darker turn and you are forced to find refuge in two priests.
Warnings:fluff, swearing, mentions of death, lil bit of angst, complete au, not canon in anyway!
Words:2045
Disclaimer: I know nothing of the priesthood apart from how it’s represented in movies and TV shows (specifically, The Exorcist TV Show) so I apologise if anything is wrong!
A/N: Again guys, sorry for the silence! I hope you guys enjoy this I feel like it’s kind of a weird concept, please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx
Chapter I - In The Beginning
The gentle movement of the car was finally lulling you to sleep as your eyelids grew heavy and you let your head fall against the glass of the window with a resounding thunk. It sounded irrational and completely ridiculous but you had been scared to sleep on the plane but while your husband, Simon was driving the car you felt a lot safer knowing he was occupied. It was a terrible feeling to be scared of your husband when you loved him so much and you knew that he loved you too.
However, you wouldn’t dwell on it if you could help it because New York was supposed to be a fresh start and an end to your marital issues. A sharp pain in your left thigh woke you up with a jolt, it felt like long finger nails were digging into your skin. Rubbing your eyes, you looked down to see Simon’s hand on your thigh but he didn’t have the nails to cause you pain, they were too short but you could still feel the lingering pain.
You looked up at Simon, who was smiling at you and it was only then that you’d realised that the car had stopped, “sorry, Y/N sweetheart. I didn’t want to wake you up but we’re here.”
You looked out of the car window at the towering apartment building, you’d feel a lot safer in an apartment complex where there were many other people residing. You felt a strong sense of relief when you saw just how busy the city was, busier than Chicago.
The apartment was as beautiful as you remembered it from the viewing, it had marble worktops with high ceilings and huge windows. Simon yawned as the both of you dragged the bags into the hallway and he made his way to the bedroom, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow when you didn’t follow him.
You arranged your face into a smile, “you go ahead, I slept in the car. I’m gonna check out the neighbourhood.”
“Fine,” he nodded carelessly, “but don’t be long,” his warning sounded ominous and it sent chills up your spine.
Once you were finally out in the cold morning air you felt free, everything had been fine, great even until you went to Egypt on vacation about 4 months ago and Simon just seemed to change. He hadn’t done anything to hurt you but he still scared you, it was like you were walking on eggshells around him. You had been together since high school and in all that time he’d never done anything to physically hurt you. You were just so worried about him, maybe it was depression.
You walked past a pretty church with cherry blossom trees in the churchyard and you quickly remembered that it was Sunday when you saw people filing out of it. You had never been religious, you’d never even gone to church apart from your wedding and the times that your grandmother had dragged you along with her.
But, now you decided you needed all the help you could get, if doctors couldn’t help Simon, then maybe God could, though you had never been a believer. You looked at the priest who was saying goodbye to everyone, expecting to see a withering old man in a priest’s collar. However, what you actually saw was an entirely different thing.
The priest was a very handsome man who looked to be a few years older than you with dark hair and dark eyes, and a beaming smile. He looked like a Hollywood star, it was easy to understand why most of his congregation were women. As everyone left, he looked at you lingering outside.
“Are you comin’ in? It’s freezin’ out here,” he gestured for you to come into the church.
You smiled at him in thanks as you followed him into the church, you might not have been religious but you were certainly awe struck at the beauty of the church.
“Coffee?” the priest asked as he loosened his collar a little.
“Sure, thank you, Father…” you trailed off with a raised eyebrow.
“Just call me Billy,” he chuckled as he took you into the rectory to make your coffee.
“You’ve got a beautiful church, Billy.”
“Thank you,” he grinned, “so, who are you?”
“Y/N,” you smiled as you sat down at the little wooden table.
Billy nodded as he glanced at you, “cream and sugar, Y/N?” he asked with a smile that made his eyes crinkle at the edges.
“Please,” there was a comfortable silence as Billy made your coffee before he turned round and handed it to you, “thank you.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
You couldn’t tell him why you were there because you had no clue, really now, what would you say? “I’m new in the city, I um was just looking for a church,” you stammered, twisting your wedding ring nervously and Billy’s eyes followed your movements. It was plain to see the slight concern in the priest’s eyes so you turned the subject in him, “you don’t seem like a priest.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone says,” a deep voice filled with laughter came from the doorway and you turned to see a tall man standing there, along with a pretty woman and two teenagers.
“Frankie!” Billy laughed as he got to his feet and hugged the newcomer, “thought, you’d left,” he gestured at you, “this is Y/N, she’s new to the city. Y/N, this is Frank, Maria, Lisa, and little Frankie,” he smirked at the boy who pulled a tongue at him, “Frank sometimes takes the services in Brooklyn, most of the time he lectures.”
Frank nodded at you with a small smile, “nice to meet ya.”
You smiled as you got to your feet, “nice to meet you too.”
Maria smiled at you, “where have you moved from, Y/N?”
“Chicago, my husband and I needed a fresh start,” you had no idea why you were suddenly blurting out the truth to complete strangers. But, Maria had such a kind face that you couldn’t help yourself.
“I like Chicago, what do you do?” she asked as she accepted a cup from Billy.
“Well, I’m in the process of writing a screenplay but for the moment I’ll be teaching at Midtown High.”
“We go to that school!” Lisa exclaimed excitedly but her brother looked you up and down, almost as if he was sizing you up.
“What’s your screenplay about?” he mumbled.
“Uh,” you laughed, you weren’t sure whether it was an appropriate subject for the children of a priest, “kind of about the supernatural, like ghosts and witches.”
Frankie’s eyes lit up as he grinned, “cool!”
You smiled as you drank your coffee and spent a bit of time with the Castle’s and Billy, they all seemed to be good people, Frank looked real terrifying at first but beneath the gruff exterior he was a real sweetheart. Almost as if you were in a daze, you checked the time and your heart lurched in your chest, you had completely lost track of time and you quickly got to your feet.
“I should get going,” you forced a smile, gnawing on your lip, it seemed that your forced smile didn’t fool Maria because she looked at you with polite alarm on her face.
“Is everything alright, Y/N?” she asked and you nodded reassuringly but it did nothing to quell the fear in your heart.
“Of course! Everything is completely fine, just if I don’t get home soon, my husband will have burned the apartment down with his awful cooking,” you laughed but it sounded hollow to your ears.
You bade goodbye to everyone, your eyes lingering on Billy for a second, you were nearly over the church’s threshold when Maria caught up with you, a white piece of paper in her hand, “Y/N,” she laughed breathlessly, “I know we’ve just met but I think we could be friends, I want you to take my number and you can give me a call anytime.”
You smiled – a genuine one this time – as you took her number, “thank you so much, Maria,” you were grateful to at least have one friend.
Thankfully, when you got back to the apartment, Simon was still sleeping so you concentrated on making something to eat as you listened to the city that was roaring to life. You were just plating up the food when you noticed Simon lingering in the dark hallway, you were so startled that you jumped and you sloshed your hot coffee all down your front.
“Jesus, Si! You scared me,” you forced a nervous grin which dropped a second later when your husband spoke in a monotone voice, his face in shadow.
“I think this damn apartment has rats.”
“Rats?”
“Yeah, rats! In the walls, I can hear the fucking scratching!” he sound agitated.
You seriously doubted that the apartment had rats but you held your tongue to appease him, “I’ll call a guy in the morning.”
—————–
Frank smirked over at Billy who scowled at him as he sat back in his chair as he took a swig of his beer as he pushed his food around his plate.
“So,” Frank began with a chuckle, “what did you think of Y/N?”
Billy opened his mouth to insist that he had no particular feelings about Y/N – which would have been a lie – but the words soon died in his throat.
“You like her, huh? I saw where your eyes were goin.’”
“My dad checking someone out? What a complete shocker,” Billy’s daughter, Ana laughed as she walked through the door, “sorry I’m late for dinner,” she muttered, pressing a kiss to Billy’s cheek.
Billy grinned at his daughter, 15 years old and she was already a carbon copy of her mother, “I wasn’t checking anyone out!” Billy defended himself as he held up his hands in defence, “and, even if I was, she’s married.”
Ana gasped as she stole a fry off Billy’s plate, “so unbecoming of a priest,” she smirked, making Lisa and Frankie laugh.
Billy rolled his eyes as he looked over at his daughter fondly, he was young when Ana was born, twenty to be exact. He was in his final year of university, dead set on starting his own security company, those plans took a complete nose dive when Ana’s mom died under impossible circumstances which forced him into the priesthood, everyone had been so shocked.
“If everyone has finished picking on me,” he laughed as he collected everyone’s empty plates and took them through to the kitchen.
Ana followed him through to the kitchen and pushed herself up on a kitchen counter causing Billy to raise an eyebrow at her, she knew he hated it when she did that. She smiled at him sheepishly but didn’t get down, “how was your grandmother’s?”
Ana rolled her eyes, “grandmother thinks that I need a female role model, I don’t think she approves solely of the church.”
Billy bit his lip as he glanced at his daughter, Ana’s grandmother had never really liked Billy, even less since Ana’s mom died, “we’re alright though, aren’t we? Just me and you.”
Ana smiled, “of course dad, but I think she could be right, not in the sense that I need a female role model but I think you should find someone, you haven’t dated in years. I’m sure there are plenty of women in your congregation would jump at the chance. I know that Dinah Madani only goes because she likes you,” Ava smirked.
Billy sighed as he got a can of soda from the fridge and threw it over to Ava who caught it with one hand, he tried to avoid Dinah if he could help it. She was an exceptionally beautiful woman but she was too forward with her intentions, “maybe you’re right.”
“I’m always right,” that was the air of self-confidence that she’d inherited from Billy, “so what is this married woman like?” she smirked.
Billy rolled his eyes, she really was insufferable sometimes, “she’s a new teacher at your school.”
Almost instantly, Ana’s face twisted with disgust, “it’s a good job she is married then, because you’re not dating one of my teachers.”
Summary: You think that moving to New York with your husband will help with your marital problems. However, things take a much darker turn and you are forced to find refuge in two priests.
Warnings: fluff, angst, swearing, religious undertones, mentions of sex, mentions of death
A/N: Rach starting another fic? More likely than you think! Buuut, I was watching ‘The Exorcist’ TV show and I felt inspired! I know nothing about the priesthood - apart from how it’s represented in that show - so I apologise if I get anything very wrong! Let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx
Summary: After ten years of not seeing Peter Parker, the two of you are reunited at Felicia Hardy’s charity event, and you both discover that much has changed.
Warnings: lil bit of angst, swearing, fluff, mentions of character death
Words: 1992
Disclaimer: This gif doesn’t belong to me!
A/N: I told myself I wouldn’t wouldn’t write a sequel to All Too Well, but I folded against peer pressure so here you guys go! I hope you all enjoy it as much as the first part, and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx
You pulled your coat tighter around your body as you trailed behind your parents at a snail’s pace, reluctant to be here. You hadn’t gone with your mom and dad to the church service because you felt that it would have been inappropriate under previous circumstances. However, your mom and dad had convinced you to go to the churchyard with them.
That was where you saw him, his cheeks were red from the chilling wind and there were tear streaks on his cheeks. You guessed that Peter had been out here for a while. You bit your lip as you watched him with his Aunt, and you longed to share your condolences with Peter but he wouldn’t want to hear it from you.
“I think you should go and say something, Y/N,” your mom nudged her arm against yours and you glanced at her with a sigh.
“We’re not friends anymore, mom, come on. Let’s go,” you glanced at Peter one more time before you turned and walked away.
It felt like you were walking away from Peter Parker forever, but that was what you wanted wasn’t it? You once told Peter that you never wanted to see him or Spider-Man ever again.
10 Years Later…
You fidgeted with your red floor length dress as you walked into the huge roof top bar where the Hardy’s were holding their charity function.
“Right, we put in an appearance to be polite and then we’re out of here,” your dad groaned as he rubbed his temples.
You rolled your eyes, your parents thought that the Hardy’s were snobby and entitled but you liked them well enough, especially Felicia. Speaking of Felicia, the beautiful blonde woman came sauntering towards you in one of her usual slinky black dresses and diamonds around her neck.
“Y/N!” she grinned as she greeted you with a flute of sparkling pink champagne, which was very on-brand of her, “how are you?” you smiled as you took the champagne.
“I’m good thank you, how are you?”
She shrugged as you walked to the balcony which had an amazing view of the city below, “these parties are exhausting but it’s for a good cause so I can cope with them,” she grinned as she took a sip of her champagne.
You laughed as you leaned your hip against the balcony railing, you wouldn’t mind having a huge party nearly every weekend, “you always say that, but out of everyone you always seem to have the best time.”
Felicia smirked at your words, “true, at least I didn’t have to organise it this time, Jameson from The Daily Bugle organised it, he’s got one of his photographers to document it. In fact, here’s Jameson’s photographer now.”
Your mouth went dry as you stared at the tall handsome man who was making his way outside, he wore that black suit so well, like he was made for it. With his artfully tousled hair and his bright brown eyes, he looked like an absolute dream. Over the past ten years he had only seemed to grow more handsome.
Felicia smirked at him as he walked closer to the pair of you and she gestured between you and Peter, “Parker, this is…” she trailed off when she noticed Peter staring at you with polite shock etched on his face.
“Y/N.”
“Hi, Peter,” you smiled as you took a huge gulp of your champagne.
“You guys know each other?” Felicia asked as she looked between the two of you and raised an eyebrow.
Peter nodded, running a hand through his hair, “we went to high school together.”
“Well, well,” Felicia smirked, “I’ll leave you two to catch up, I’m gonna go and see where Flash has got to,” she waved at the both of you before she walked back into the party.
Peter smiled at you, “hey.”
“Hi,” you flushed, the atmosphere suddenly feeling very tense.
“Look, Y/N,” he began with a sigh and you glanced at the gorgeous man who was biting his lip and looking very guilty. You knew at once what he was going to say.
“Peter, don’t you dare.”
Peter looked at you with wide, shocked eyes, “what?”
“Are you about to apologise?”
“Well, yeah,” Peter chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.
You shook your head as you placed your hand on his arm, “you don’t have to apologise.”
The man frowned, “but I hurt you.”
He had hurt you, you weren’t about to disagree with that but you deemed it time to put the past behind you, “you did, but Peter, we were kids and I handled it the wrong way, a knee-jerk reaction I guess. I know it’s been a long time but please, can we start again?”
Peter grinned, looking very relieved as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “of course, Y/N. How have you been?”
Over Peter’s short break from work you learned that he went to college in the city – where he met Felicia – and he’d gone on to work as a photographer for The Daily Bugle. It seemed like the perfect job for him, in high school he was hardly seen without a camera. In turn, he learned that you had been living in the South of France before recently moving back to the city because you missed your family. It felt great to have Peter back in your life and you had the best time catching up with him but something gnawed at your conscience.
“Peter, I’m so sorry about what happened to Gwen,” you smiled sadly as you took a sip of your champagne.
Peter nodded as he raked a hand through his hair and he looked up at you with those big brown eyes, “I saw your folks at the funeral.”
The guilt in your heart only seemed to increase, “I came to the churchyard but I didn’t let you see me, that’s why I didn’t come to the funeral because I didn’t want to upset you by being there.”
Peter shook his head, “it would have been good to see you, Y/N.”
“Parker!” a shout came from inside of the bar, interrupting the conversation between you and Peter.
“Fuck! That’s my cue, I should go. I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he pressed a fleeting kiss to your cheek before he ran into the party to appease his boss.
You walked into the bar and met Felicia with a grin and she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “y’know, you and Peter would make a pretty cute couple,” you scoffed at your friend’s words but you couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating up.
At the end of the night, you said goodbye to Felicia, promising that you’d meet up with her again soon, and you walked over to where Peter was sitting at an empty table, going through his photographs of the night. You didn’t notice his disgruntled expression until you sat opposite him.
“Hey, that isn’t the face of an award winning photographer,” you laughed.
Peter looked up at you with a dead pan look, “ha, ha. That was so funny I forgot to laugh,” he sighed, “I’m gonna have to hail a cab, I’ve missed my last fucking train.”
Your eyes bugged out, was he crazy? “you can’t! A cab is gonna cost the money you made tonight.”
Peter rolled his eyes with the ghost of a smirk on his lips, “well, I guess that I could swing home.”
That was an even worse idea, “have you been drinking?” you quirked an eyebrow and folded your arms. Peter nodded with a sheepish look on his face, “yeah, you’re not swinging home,” you hesitated as you came up with an idea, though it might have been the worst idea you’d had all night, “come on, you can stay the night at my place.”
Peter’s eyes widened as he began to stutter and stammer, you were sure that he was going to refuse but his reply surprised you, “are you sure?” he asked and you ruffled his hair, it felt soft beneath your fingertips.
“Positive, come on.”
Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you set up the spare bed, making sure that Peter would be as comfortable as possible. It was strange, before tonight you thought that you’d never see Peter Parker again and now he was sleeping in your spare bed. With a nervous smile, you turned back to Peter and gestured at the set of drawers.
“There should be some clothes in there that should fit.”
“Thanks, Y/N.”
“You’re welcome, let me know if you need anything,” you smiled and Peter nodded, his brown eyes sparkling.
“Night, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Pete,” you grinned as you got yourself off to bed.
After a good night’s rest, you decided to make your favourite breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes with maple syrup and rashers of bacon. Just as you were serving up the pancakes, Peter came padding into the kitchen, his hair sticking up in different directions and he was bleary eyed, he looked adorable.
“Morning, Pete, did you sleep alright?” you smiled as you made a pot of coffee.
Peter shot you a sleepy smile that made you flush, “I had an amazing sleep, thank you, your spare bed is so comfortable. Thank you for letting me stay.”
“No problem, want some breakfast?” you smiled, placing a plate of pancakes and maple syrup on the table and he groaned.
“They look so good.”
“Dig in,” you pushed the plate towards him and he shot you a grateful smile, there was a comfortable silence as you both ate your breakfast and drank your coffee.
Peter broke the silence about ten minutes later, “you know we should go and get dinner together sometime.”
You felt your cheeks heat up and you had to tell yourself that he wasn’t asking you out, it was just going to be you two grabbing some food together. You were not about to get your hopes up and make the same mistake as you did in high school, “sure thing.”
Peter shot you a winning smile as he stood up from the kitchen table with his empty plate, placing it in the sink, “thank you for breakfast,” he was so close to you that you could see the syrup shining on his lips and your stomach did somersaults.
“Sure,” you trailed off when his warm hand cupped your cheek and you wanted to lean into it but instead you looked up at him, blinking rapidly, “what are you doing?” you murmured.
“Well, I was thinking of kissing you.”
You swallowed and licked your lips, noticing his eyes following the movement of your tongue, you felt like a love struck teenager all over again, “do you really think that’s a good idea, regarding our previous history?” you asked and he smiled, his thumb rubbing along your jaw.
“Things are different now.”
You knew he was right, things were different and you wanted to kiss him, really you did but you were still reluctant, “what if I don’t want you to kiss me?”
Immediately he let his hand drop from your cheek and he took a step back, “if you don’t want me to kiss you, then I won’t Y/N, of course I won’t,” he smiled.
You missed his touch and his warmth at once and you bit your lip as you looked at him, weighing up all the pros and cons in your head, “oh, what the hell,” you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, delving your fingers into his hair.
Peter leaned down to kiss you and you sighed against his lips as you tasted the sticky maple syrup and your hands came to rest on his chest. This could turn out to be the worst mistake that you’d ever make but as Peter deepened the kiss, you were surprised to find that you just didn’t care. All you could focus on was Peter’s lips against yours.
Summary: You’ve never felt like you belong, your parents certainly treat you like you don’t belong. Then the absolute impossible happens which leads you to a handsome, grieving boy, and you realise that home isn’t a place. It’s a person.
Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of character death, ooc, swearing
Words:2112
Disclaimer:This is set a couple of years after tasm 2 but it may still have some nwh spoilers so read at your own risk, and this gif doesn’t belong to me!
A/N:Hope you guys enjoy this part, please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged, I love you all! xxx
Your first few weeks in the new, New York was pretty uneventful, you had yet to find yourself a job, you didn’t want any old shitty job, you wanted to be happy in your work. And, plus, you could afford to wait for a job that you’d actually like. You’d recently had an interview with a local newspaper called, ‘The Daily Bugle,’ to be one of their writers. The guy in charge, J. Jonah Jameson was kind of a crank but he didn’t ask too many questions, thankfully.
What would you have said if he had questioned you anyway? You couldn’t exactly say, ‘hey buddy, don’t mind me, I think I just zipped in from another universe,’ that was one sure way to get yourself locked up in the psych ward.
It was too late for you to enrol in university but you’d started going to night classes for criminal psychology, which had been your major when you lived in the old New York. You’d made some new friends who felt like family already, in such a short amount of time and you’d never had that before.
On a less positive note, you hadn’t seen Peter since he helped you move into your apartment, he hadn’t text or called, and to be honest, you didn’t want to bother him.
You shivered in the cold wind as you walked down the street, you should have put a jacket on but it really would have ruined your outfit. Betty was standing outside the bar, smoking a cigarette, and you rolled your eyes with a smile. Ever since you met her she was always saying that she was going to quit. That seemed to go out of the window every time she drank.
“Hey, Y/N!” Betty grinned as you walked up to her, “you look cute!” she pulled you into a hug, smelling like cigarette smoke and that mint gum she was always chewing.
“Thank you! You do too,” you smiled at her before turning your attention to the bar behind her, “so this is a dive bar, huh?” you asked with a raised eyebrow, you didn’t have to go into a dive bar to know that it wasn’t your scene.
Betty nodded, her eyes widening, “you’ve never been to a dive bar before?” when you shook your head she gasped dramatically, “so, let me get this straight, you’ve never been to a bar with a disgusting sticky floor and spent all night playing pool and drinking shit beer?”
“Yeah, I’ve definitely never been to one,” you fought hard to supress your shudder but you were unsuccessful.
Betty laughed at the expression on your face as she put out her cigarette, “well, sweetie, I’m afraid being friends with me is going to change that,” she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and steered you into the bar.
Betty was right, the floor was horribly sticky and the music was loud enough to shake the walls. But, that wasn’t what drew your attention, what did draw your attention was the handsome boy with fluffy brown hair nursing a pint of beer with a lost look in his puppy dog brown eyes. He looked so sad.
“Peter?” you called out as you walked up to him and he looked up with a raised brow, “Peter hey,” you smiled and gave him a little wave.
Peter gave you a polite nod as he took a sip of his beer, “Y/N, how are you?” he asked with the ghost of a smile on his face.
“I’m good, how are you?” you asked, twisting the ring on your finger, something you did when you were feeling nervous. You had been imagining what it would be like to see him again, you just didn’t know it would be this nerve wracking.
“I’m good.”
“Y/N, how good to see you again.” Felicia Hardy sneered as she slipped in the seat next to Peter and you had this nagging feeling that you were intruding.
You looked between her and Peter, he looked somewhat uncomfortable as the beautiful woman wrapped an arm around his bicep. Her long red nails tapped against Peter’s skin as she smirked at you.
“I’ll see you later, Peter,” you sighed and turned back to Betty without waiting for a reply.
“I saw that longing look, Y/N and I wouldn’t go there if I were you, I went to high school with Peter and he hasn’t dated anyone since Gwen.”
“Who’s Gwen?” you asked, waving at Flash who’d already set the pool table up.
“His girlfriend, she died a few years ago and Peter blames himself, though I don’t know why. They were disgustingly in love, they definitely would have married young and have had five kids or something. But, he hasn’t dated anyone since she died so I wouldn’t waste your time unless you want your heart broken.”
Your heart hurt on Peter’s behalf, you had no idea that he had suffered so much at such a young age. You glanced back at Peter to find that Felicia quite literally had her claws into him. They must have a solely physical arrangement.
“Why the long face, Y/N? It’s Friday night,” Flash chuckled as he held out a pool cue and you took it with a smile.
Before you could reply, Betty beat you to it, “we just saw Peter Parker.”
Flash nodded as he leaned across the pool table to take his first shot, “Parker’s a good guy.”
Betty sighed and bumped her arm against yours, “she’s got a crush on him.”
Flash’s eyes flickered over to you so fast that you were kind of embarrassed, “yeah, I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”
“Yeah I told her.”
“I wish you would stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” you sighed, “and I do not have a crush on him!” you protested, rolling your eyes at Betty’s disbelieving look, “I don’t!”
You tried to have a good night with your friends and you did for the most part. However, the talk of Gwen and Peter had put a damper on things, you couldn’t believe how much he’d been through, losing someone so important to him. You decided to leave a little earlier than planned, rejecting your friend’s offers to come with you, you still wanted them to have a good night. You knew that Betty was going to end up in bed with Flash, even though she’d said a million times that she wouldn’t go there again.
You hadn’t drunk all that much so you put your warm pyjamas on, got yourself a hot chocolate and sat out on your balcony with a blanket to watch New York’s nightlife. You were out on the balcony for twenty minutes before a figure in red and blue zipped across the skyline. Your heart soared and you smiled as the hero came to land on your balcony.
“Hey, Spidey,” you grinned as you took a sip of your hot chocolate.
“It’s, Y/N right?” his voice was muffled by his mask but you could still hear the smile in his voice.
You laughed, “yes, do you remember the names of all the women you save?”
“The pretty ones certainly make a lasting impression,” you flushed at his words, “shit, I’m sorry that was a real dick thing to say.
You shrugged and shook your head, “it’s okay. I realise that I never thanked you for saving my life.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” Spider-Man waved away your thanks.
“I do, I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you, so thank you,” you smiled.
“You’re welcome,” he nodded before he fiddled with his fingers, “so um, how are you feeling?”
You smiled, it was so sweet that he seemed to care, “much better, though I do have a wicked scar so I certainly won’t be wearing a bathing suit for a while. Thank you for asking though,” you hesitated as you looked up at the masked hero, “what are you doing here, Spider-Man?” you were merely curious.
“I was just in the neighbourhood but I probably should go,” he glanced over his shoulder.
It was a strange sensation but you didn’t want to see him go, “wait! I didn’t mean it like that, you can stay for a while.”
“I know, I know, don’t worry but I really do have to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he zipped away on his webs before you could return his farewell. You were left staring after the superhero with a frown on your face.
——————————-
Monday morning came far too quickly for Peter Parker, he could hardly keep his eyes open as he walked into the elevator, draining half of his coffee in one. He had an assignment to finish for the newspaper last night so he worked quite late into the night and he’d done a round of fighting crime. He just wanted to go back to bed and sleep for about five years.
“Oh hold the door!” he heard a woman call out as the elevator doors began to close and he pressed the button to keep them open.
The woman ran into the elevator and on further inspection, Peter realised that it was Y/N in formal attire. What was she doing here? Y/N looked up at him with a grin, “thank you so much…” she trailed off “Peter, hey!” she laughed nervously, “I promise I’m not following you.”
Peter smirked, “dang it, I was so hoping,” he smiled and Y/N laughed, looking more relaxed, “what are you doing here if you don’t mind me asking?”
“It’s my first day, I’m really excited,” she looked so happy, that Peter had to smile.
“Great,” he muttered.
“What did you say?” Y/N looked up at him with a frown, she looked so pretty when she did that, somehow.
“Nothing, nothing,” he shook his head with a sigh. He’d done a good job of staying away from her up until a week ago when he decided to drop her a visit as Spider-Man, and now they were going to be working in the same place. Would he never escape her? He didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.
As they got up into the office, Jameson popped his head out of his own office and nodded at Y/N, “Y/L/N, Parker, you’re on babysittin’ duty today,” he nodded over at Y/N who scoffed but Jameson didn’t seem to hear it as he retreated back into his office.
“What a lovely man,” Y/N laughed as she bit her lip and glanced at Peter, “I’m sorry that you have to be lumbered with me.”
Peter shrugged, he didn’t mind, “it’s cool, just uh grab a desk I guess. Jameson give you an assignment?” he asked, raking a hand through his hair.
Y/N nodded with a smile, “yeah, I won’t need to bother you for anything, Peter,” Peter’s chest clenched with guilt at her words and he was about to apologise before Y/N walked behind his desk and gasped, “did you take those photographs?”
Peter followed her gaze and smiled as he looked down at the polaroid’s of Spider-Man that were scattered across his desk, “uh yeah, I did.”
“They’re really good, Peter,” Y/N smiled, “I met him again, the other week,” she nodded at the photographs.
“Oh yeah?” Peter asked casually, “what did you think of him?”
“I think he’s great, a real hero,” Y/N grinned at him as she walked over to a free desk, and Peter couldn’t help but feel smug.
A couple of hours into the day, Peter glanced up when someone walked into the office and he saw with the upmost surprise that it was Aunt May and she was carrying a brown paper bag. Peter stood up from his desk and walked around to meet his Aunt, “what are you doing here?” he asked, giving her a hug.
“You forgot your lunch sweetheart,” she smiled and placed the bag on his desk.
Peter laughed, “what would I do without you?”
“Oh you’d die of hunger,” she laughed and glanced around the room, her eyes landing on Y/N, “hello, Y/N!”
Y/N beamed as she stood up, “hi, Mrs Parker, it’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too darling,” she grinned before she glanced between Peter and Y/N, Peter could almost see the cogs turning in her head, “would you like to come for dinner at the weekend, Y/N?”
Y/N grinned at the same time as Peter sighed, he loved his Aunt so much but he wished that she wouldn’t meddle, Y/N’s smile fell slightly as she glanced at Peter before looking at Aunt May, “I’m sorry Mrs Parker, I’ve got plans this weekend.”
“Oh that’s a shame, maybe another time then.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she forced a smile as she sat back down in her desk chair.
As soon as Aunt May laughed, Eddie Brock snickered over at Peter, “bro, you’re just so adorable with your Aunt bringing you a packed lunch and all.”
Peter usually ignored Eddie but today he glared at him, “or maybe I’ve just got someone who cares about me, though I wouldn’t expect you to know what that’s like,” he replied savagely before he glanced over at Y/N who seemed determined not to look at him.
I have been having the worst time with trying to write lately. I asked for some requests and got a pretty good response. An anonymous ask suggested this:
I wanted to write this But I think you could do it justice if you’re into the theme but it’s basically based on the reader being a princess and her guard being her confidant, Like the bodyguard they’ve confessed love tho but it’s still forbidden. There’s a scene in a story I just can’t remember, they torture him in the front of everyone to see as a punishment for smthn? he makes no sound coz the reader is there so she leaves but sneaks out later to him still hurt and tied and then good ol h/c.
And this is what became of that ask.
WARNINGS:THIS IS AN AU; this is set in medieval-ish times, so outdated and F’ed up thoughts and actions towards women will occur; royalty au, forced engagement/wedding, abusive relationship, public whipping, fevers, painful wound cleansing, suicidal thoughts, aborted suicide attempt, magic PAIRING: Princess Reader x Guard Bucky Barnes WORD COUNT: 11,000ish WRITING IN THE DARK BINGO FILL: Royal AU BAD THINGS HAPPEN BINGO FILL:Fevers AUTHOR’S NOTE: Title taken from “ivy,” by Taylor Swift Specifically the line“Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand.”
Near silent footsteps grew closer to the tree just past the garden. A smile played at his lips as he followed the trail of dainty footprints that stopped at the base of the tree. He slowly looked from left to right, turning to lean against the trunk of the tree, crossing his arms over his massive chest and speaking low.
“I know you’re up there.”
He laughed when an acorn popped him on the head. He let his arms fall and tilted his head back, dark hair falling off his shoulders with the movement. There you were, looking up, refusing to look his way.
“Come on, now. He’ll be here any minute.” “I don’t care about him.” “I know you don’t, but he could be a good one.”
You glanced his way then, long enough to make eye contact and narrow your eyes at him before you looked away again.
“That’s what you said about the last two.” “Prince Samuel was a good man, even if he did get on my nerves.” “But you were wrong about Prince Anthony.”
He nodded.
“That guy was a prick.”
You giggled, looking down as he looked up. His lips lifted in a crooked smile as he raised a hand. You sighed, shimmying down a little until he could reach you, taking hold of your waist and lowering you from the tree.
“There we go.”
You stayed close to him once he set your feet on the ground, hands gently brushing the tree debris from your gown. He made no movements away from you and you looked up into kind, icy blue eyes, your chin nearly brushing his chest as you spoke just above a whisper.
“I don’t want to marry them, Bucky.” “I know, Princess.” “Why can’t I just marry you?”
Bucky ignored the twinge in his heart, forcing a sad smile onto his face as he let his fingers trail over your cheek.
“I’m just a lowly guard, your grace. You deserve only the finest of princes.”
You shook your head, eyes drawn to your family crest pinned at Bucky’s chest.
“I don’t know, being solely responsible for the safety of the Princess is worthy of some nobility, isn’t it?”
Bucky smiled for real this time as you met his eyes.
“No one has ever accused me of being noble, my lady.”
You smiled, giving a laugh under your breath before he offered you his arm. You sighed again, looping your arm through his, laying your other hand on his thick bicep as the two of you slowly began to walk back to the castle.
“I feel as if we’re on a death march.” “You can’t look at it that way, my lady. He could be the love of your life.”
You swallowed hard, not realizing as you pulled Bucky closer.
“Who is he again?” “Prince John. A man worthy of you, according to the legends surrounding him.” “What legends?” “He’s defended his kingdom more than once. His father died during one of his battles and John saved the kingdom before returning home.” “So is he the king or a prince?”
Bucky let go of your arm, stepping over a small ravine. There was a fallen tree stretched across the ravine, one you’d hurried over on your way into the woods and up your tree. Bucky held out a hand and you grasped it tightly, lifting the skirts of your gown as you walked over the tree. Once you were safely to the other side, Bucky offered you his arm again.
“Technically he’s king, but he hasn’t had a coronation yet. His kingdom’s laws say the prince must be married first.” “And that’s where I come in.”
You stopped suddenly, dragged forward the slightest bit when Bucky hadn’t realized you weren’t walking with him. He dropped your arm and started to apologize, but you shook your head. He stood before you and you laid your hands on his shoulders, Bucky hunching over enough for you to reach him.
“I don’t want to marry someone just because it would be a good, strategic move for the kingdom. I want to marry forlove.” “I know, my lady. But couldn’t you grow to love him?”
You stared into those icy eyes, biting back the words on the tip of your tongue.
How can I, when I love you so?
You blinked, shaking your head. Bucky smiled, rolling his shoulder to make your hand fall, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the back of your palm, tucking your hand through his arm once more.
“I’m sure the Queen is wondering where you’ve run off to.” “She should know by now.”
Bucky’s smile widened as he thought to the first time he’d caught you in the tree. Your parents had arranged for Prince Ikaris, a boy you’d grown up playing in the woods with, to come and spend the summer. Only once the days shortened did they tell you that he was there as your suitor, and you’d end the year betrothed.
You’d stayed in the tree until your father ordered the tree cut down to get you out of it, and only by Bucky carrying you back to the castle did you relent.
It seems that Ikaris was only the first in a line of suitors, none deeming you worthy enough to play along with your antics. You were sure Prince Anthony had figured you out, and the wink he’d given you as he kissed your hand during his goodbye only cemented your belief.
No, the only constant through the parade of princes was Bucky, the one who’d sworn to protect you with his life when you were barely a teenager, and he barely a man. He’d kept his word, staying by your side through every attack on the kingdom. While seldom, the attacks did still come, and instead of fighting on the front lines, Bucky stayed at your side.
He also stayed by your side through every cold and fever and illness, keeping you in his sights through every lesson, every ball, staying outside your bedroom while you slept. You weren’t sure when he slept, but every time you needed him, he was by your side.
“Here we are.”
You looked up at the castle before you, glancing up at Bucky. He laid his other hand on the one you had currently gripping his arm.
“It will be fine, Princess. John will be a good man. He’ll be the one.”
You swallowed, pushing a smile on your face and nodding.
Even though you both knew it was a lie.
You paced the sitting room, skirts swishing as you walked. The words you muttered didn’t make sense, but you couldn’t sit still and you couldn’t be quiet. You didn’t look up at the knock on the door, your mother huffing out a breath when the door opened.
“Thank goodness. Talk some sense into her before she sends us all to an early grave!”
You rolled your eyes as you continued your pacing, stopping only when you saw the shiny boots step into your path. You lifted your head, closing your eyes with a relieved sigh when you saw the one constant in your life.
“Bucky.”
You laid your hands on his arms and he led you to the bench where your mother had been sitting. He sat beside you and you shook your head, taking hold of his hands.
“I hate him.” “You don’t know him.” “And I don’t want to!”
You shook your head, body vibrating along with it.
“There’s something about him … I can’t. I won’t marry him.” “You have to give him a chance, Princess.” “I did!” “No, you haven’t.”
You squeezed Bucky’s hands and he shifted closer to you.
“Just talk to him. Get to know him.” “I don’t want to get to know him!” “I know, but you have to.”
You lifted your eyes to his, seeing the pain in his eyes.
“What?”
Bucky looked down at your hands and you shook your head, giving his hands a squeeze until he lifted his head again.
“Bucky, what?” “Your father will force this marriage to happen.”
Your eyes widened, hands falling from Bucky’s. You shook your head, but he nodded his.
“You don’t have a choice anymore, my lady. You will marry Prince John.” “No, he … Father wouldn’t do that.” “He would. He will. Uniting John’s kingdom with ours would be a brilliant strategic move.”
You slowly nodded.
“Whatever is best for the kingdom.”
You stood on shaky legs, walking away from Bucky. He stood, the sword at his side softly clanging as he walked towards you. You stopped and lifted a shaky hand to your lips, closing your eyes as Bucky came to a stop behind you, his warmth surrounding you.
“Give him a chance, my lady. Get to know him.” “I don’t love him.” “You’ll learn to love him.”
You turned quickly, grabbing Bucky’s elbows. You watched his nostrils flare as his hands went to your waist, steadying you. His hands didn’t move from you, the warmth of his fingers burning you like a brand. You stepped closer, watching his eyes flash as he stayed still, a quiet gasp leaving your lips as his fingers flexed on your hips. The two of you stared at each other until you leaned even closer, your near silent voice echoing in the small space between you.
“I’llneverlove him.”
Bucky had made you promise to give Prince John a try, so you did. Sitting beside him at meals, strolling through the grounds with him. Standing at the entrance to the smelly barn as he brushed his horse and regaled you with tales of battle.
You couldn’t stand the man.
Bucky kept his distance when you were with John, brushing off the prince’s insistence that you were more than safe with him and Bucky could take the time off. Bucky politely declined, giving you and John space while still following you.
Now, you were on yet another stroll through the castle grounds, arm through John’s at his insistence, Bucky following a dozen paces behind.
“Is he always like this?”
You glanced over your shoulder, a soft smile crossing your lips.
“He’s duty-bound to protect me.” “And he’s always around you? Even in your private chamber?” “Well, of course not. He stays outside the door.”
John clicked his tongue, much the same way he did with the horses. The sound was grating to your ears and he shook his head.
“That’ll be the first thing to go.”
You blinked.
“I beg your pardon?”
John gave you a patronizing smile.
“When you’re my wife, you won’t need a bodyguard. I’ll protect you.” “I would think as the Queen, you’d want as much protection around me as you can get.” “Of course, your grace. But I have my own men I’ll put in that position.”
You blinked a few times.
“I’ve known B—“
You cleared your throat.
“James my whole life. I trust him and I know he will protect me, no matter the cost.” “Well, I don’t need him.” “Youmay not, butIdo.” “You’ll need what I say you’ll need.”
You stopped, and John gave a hard exhale when you tugged at his arm.
“Come on. I’m tired of dealing with your attitude.” “I hate to break it to you, but the attitude stays.”
John gave a laugh, turning to stand in front of you and glaring down at you.
“I’ll fuck that attitude right out of you. Now do as I say.”
He grabbed your arm tightly and harshly pulled you forward, causing you to stumble. A warm hand grasped yours, the other on your waist as you were righted a moment before you were standing behind the wall of Bucky.
“I swear to God, if you touch her again—“ “I didn’t do anything.” “I watched you. I heard you.”
John laughed.
“And what will you do, guard? You think you can undermine the king?” “You’re not the king yet.”
John lifted his chin, a wicked smile coming to his lips as he stared at Bucky, glancing to see you peeking around Bucky’s wide frame before he spoke again.
“We’ll see about that.”
You sat up in bed at the sudden commotion outside your chamber. You pushed back the blankets and grabbed your robe, pulling it around you as you flung open the door. Guards wearing Prince John’s family crest were surrounding Bucky, trying to put his hands in shackles.
“What’s happening? What is this?” “Princess, go back inside.”
You shook your head at Bucky, reaching for him, gasping when a fist flew out, catching Bucky on the chin. He went to his knees with a groan, hands quickly shackled behind his back.
“Unhand him. Let him go!” “Orders of the Prince. Go back inside, my lady.” “No, I demand you let him go!”
Before a burly guard could force you back into your chamber, a hand reached out, placed in the center of the guard’s chest. The guard gave a nod, and Bucky was carried away. You turned quickly to see one of Bucky’s closest friends at your side.
“Steve, what’s happening?”
Steve sighed, gently ushering you back into your chamber.
“John put out the order. Said Bucky threatened him, threatened you. He’s going to use him to teach a lesson.” “Bucky didn’t threaten him. And he would never hurt me—“ “I know. I know, your grace, but I couldn’t go against the Prince.”
You looked in the direction that they’d taken Bucky, your heart feeling as if it were in your throat.
“What will he do to him?”
Steve’s eyes were cast down when you looked back to him, and you covered your mouth with your hand. Your hand drifted to your throat, as you spoke the words that burned like acid in your mouth.
“Will he kill him?” “I don’t think so.”
You closed your eyes, Steve’s quiet words slicing through your heart.
“But there are things worse than death.”
You opened your eyes again, knowing that despite the late hour, sleep would not come for you tonight.
John smiled as he adjusted the armor on his arms.
“Where is she?”
He glanced to see Steve at the doorway, who bowed his head.
“She’s coming, your grace.” “Good. I want to be sure she watches closely.”
Steve nodded, eyes cast to the ground. His eyes flicked up when he heard your gown swishing as you walked, clenching his jaw before he turned his head.
“She’s here, your highness.” “Excellent.”
John turned to see you in the doorway. Your eyes seemed tired, as if you hadn’t gotten enough sleep. John smiled, knowing his plan had worked.
“My Queen. Let’s take a walk.”
You glanced away when he was near, biting back a groan when he grabbed your chin and held it tightly as he kissed your cheek. He grabbed your arm and placed it through his own, pulling you forward.
“There’s something you need to learn. I’ve spoken with Samuel and Thor and Ikaris. I even wrote to Anthony, but I never received a response.”
You bit your lip to hide the smile at that.
“They all said the same thing. That you weren’t worth the time.”
You schooled your face into a calm, cool facade. You weren’t going to let his words get to you.
“Honestly, Princess? I have to agree with them.”
You clenched your teeth together as he went on.
“You may not be worth it, but your kingdom is. Well, your father’s kingdom. Let’s not pretend it would ever be yours.”
You straightened your spine, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.
“But I can’t get the kingdom without you, so I guess we both just have to grin and bear it. But here’s the thing, sweetheart.” “Don’t call me that.”
John maneuvered your hand to where he was grasping it, squeezing so tightly you felt your bones grind together. You yelped at the sudden burn of pain and John sneered at you.
“Remember your place, Princess. I will be your husband and your king very soon.”
You blinked back tears as the two of you came to a sudden stop.
“Consider this the first of many lessons I’ll have to teach you. And you will learn, Princess. One way or another.”
John snapped his fingers and two of his men came to stand on either side of you. You looked from one to the other, noticing the crowd that had gathered. You narrowed your eyes when you realized you were standing on some sort of scaffolding, a stage of sorts.
John stepped near the edge of the stage.
“Citizens! Your future king has called you here for one simple reason.”
You tuned him out, glancing around the stage, looking through the crowd for a familiar face. You didn’t see one, save for Steve near the stairs, head bowed, shoulders tense. You swallowed as you studied the crowd, eyes falling onto a woman paces behind the rest of the people. She locked eyes with you and a shiver rolled up your spine. She lifted the hood of the cloak she wore, setting it on her fiery hair before turning and walking away. You watched her until you couldn’t see her anymore, blinking as if you’d been in a trance. Your eyes fluttered as the crowd began buzzing like a hive of bees, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched Bucky with his hands and feet shackled being led up the stairs. You started to step forward, stepping back when one of the men beside you blocked your path.
“You’re to watch this, Princess.”
Your heart throbbed in your chest as Bucky was led to the middle of the stage, the shirt he was wearing torn away. You met his eyes, saw the emotions swirling in the icy blue before he was forced to look away, his body wrenched to face the crowd.
“No.”
The word was barely audible, your eyes widening when John was handed a whip. You shook your head, reaching out, being stopped quickly by the thickly muscled arms of the men on either side of you. You looked to see Steve with his head still bowed, eyes squeezed shut, lips pulled tight in a wince. You took in a breath as John raised the whip over his head, hand flying to cover your mouth as John brought the whip down, the crack seeming to echo as Bucky’s body jolted forward.
Bucky tried to hold back, but soon every crack of the whip was followed by a scream of agony. You wanted to collapse at the first sound he tried so hard to hold back, but you stood firm. Bucky would want you to be strong. John looked back at you, wild-eyed with a wide smile on his face, and you glared at him, managing to stay still when the next crack of his whip was viciously hard.
When Bucky’s screams faded, you peeked around the man beside you, your heart falling to your toes when you saw how limp Bucky’s body was. The final lash from John’s whip had no reaction from Bucky, and John threw the whip to the ground as he turned and made his way to you. He stopped in front of you, smiling sadistically.
“Let this be a lesson to you, Princess. King or not, I own you.”
He glanced back over his shoulder.
“And this is just the beginning.”
You closed your eyes as John bent to kiss your cheek before walking away, whistling a tune as he did. The crowd began to disperse with quiet murmurs being exchanged, and you rushed forward, hitting your knees beside Bucky’s prone form.
“Bucky? Oh god. Buck, can you hear me?” “He’s unconscious.”
You looked up to Steve, seeing the pain on his face as he studied the lashes on Bucky’s back, blood oozing from the wounds. You shook your head, one shaky hand moving to the back of Bucky’s head.
“What do we do?” “I can help.”
You looked up at the new voice, quiet and thickly accented. The woman you’d noticed earlier that stayed at the edge of the crowd was standing over Bucky. You moved a hand protectively over him and she smirked.
“Don’t worry, Princess. I mean no harm. He’ll need these wounds cleaned to ward off infection.”
You nodded, looking down at the crisscrossing wounds on Bucky’s back. Shaky fingers gently touched his broken skin and you shook your head.
“I don’t … I can’t leave.” “I know, your grace. I have a few men who can help us.”
You met Steve’s eyes and nodded. He turned and nodded, and three men stepped out of the shadows. You recognized two of them, smiling sadly.
“Clint. Timothy.” “Your highness.”
The men bowed before offering hands to help you to your feet. You stepped back with the woman beside you, your heart clenching with every moan and noise Bucky made. The men managed to get Bucky on a horse, planning on taking him to Clint’s farm. The woman turned to you, and you would have sworn you saw her eyes turn red.
“I’ll do what I can, Princess, but he’s going to need you.” “Me?”
She nodded, a smile coming to her lips.
“I’ll send for you.” “How?” “You’ll know.”
She turned away and you blinked a few times before stepping forward.
“Steve!”
He looked back at you, crossing the space they’d already put between you. You took his hands.
“Be careful. You know there’s wolves in the woods.”
Steve nodded.
“We’ll keep an eye out.”
You nodded, squeezing his hands before he jogged to meet Clint, who was leading the horse away.
You stayed in your chamber with the door locked, refusing any visitors and the requests your parents and John made for you to come out. The only person you would allow into the room was the lady-in-waiting that had been by your side since you were a child, Lady Jean Grey.
You were sitting on the cushioned bench by the window, hands clasped in Jean’s as she knelt before you. You couldn’t speak, tears silently rolling down your cheeks as Jean spoke softly.
“He’s going to be okay, your highness. Steve will be sure to take good care of him.”
You hung your head and gave a soft sob. Jean always seemed to know just what you were thinking, even when you couldn’t put it into words. She knew how you felt about Bucky, how you felt about John, the hopelessness you could feel yourself slipping into. Your father had been delighted with John’s public show of power, and he was more determined than ever to make the marriage happen. You didn’t have a say in the matter, and seeing John’s self-satisfied smirk made your stomach turn.
Your head lifted, eyes locking with Jean’s before the two of you turned towards the window. You helped her to her feet, your gowns swishing as the both of you made your way to the window. The moon was high in the cloudless sky, and a chill rolled down your spine as a wolf’s howl broke the stillness of the night.
You turned to Jean, grabbing her hands.
“That’s it.” “Your grace, that was a wolf.” “No,shedid that. We haven’t heard wolves since the snow melted.”
Jean was incredibly smart and intuitive, and you saw goosebumps rise on her arms when the wolf howled again. You gave her hands a squeeze.
“I have to go, Jean. She said he was going to need me, and this is her sign.” “Okay. Okay, go.”
She sighed, looking to the door over your shoulder.
“I’ll stay here, pretend I’m you if I have to. I’ll ward off everything I can, but you must hurry back.”
You nodded, pulling her hands forward until you could kiss her cheek. She helped you into a gown more suitable for someone who wasn’t a princess, pinning your hair up and giving you her cloak. You knew there would be guards outside your chamber door, so Jean helped you climb over the balcony, using the blankets from your bed as a makeshift ladder.
You twisted your ankle when you dropped to the ground, wincing as you ran through the pain. You went in the direction you remembered Steve and Clint leading the horse that had carried Bucky away, the thought coming to you that you had no idea where you were going.
You covered your mouth with a hand when the wolf’s howl filled the air again, the sound sharp in your ears. You looked to your right, jolting when the howl sounded again, but turning that direction. You pulled Jean’s cloak tighter around you, eyes widening when you saw a curl of smoke rose towards the moon. Clouds were quickly hiding the moon, so you hurried towards the smoke, stopping when you saw a stone cottage. You made your way to the door, knocking on it and stepping back.
“Your highness. Welcome.”
You followed the woman into the cottage, removing the hood from your head. You untied the strings at your neck and she took the cloak from you, hanging it beside what you assumed was her own cloak.
“Excuse me.”
She turned to you, curls of her red hair framing her face.
“What is your name?”
She smiled.
“Wanda. Follow me.”
You did, stopping suddenly when Wanda walked through a doorway.
“Oh god.”
You hurried forward, hand brushing over Bucky’s sweat-soaked face. He was laying on his side and he moaned at your touch, his huge body shivering almost violently. You lifted your eyes to Wanda, who sighed.
“He’s got a fever from the infection. I’m doing everything I can.” “Oh, Bucky.”
You grabbed a cloth near his makeshift bed, dipping it in a bucket of water. You gently pressed the cloth to his forehead, a moan leaving his lips. The shivering of his body slowed just a bit, and you moved the cloth to gently clean his face.
“I’m here, Bucky. I’m so sorry.”
He hummed as you dipped the cloth back into the water, wringing it out and pressing it against his neck.
“How long has he had the fever?” “The wounds were showing the beginning signs of infection when we got him here.”
You lifted your head at that, and Wanda smiled as she moved to stand in front of a big bowl.
“They’re in the barn. Close enough that they can come if I call. The big one said it was unseemly for the men to be in a lady’s home.”
You smiled as you laid the cloth over Bucky’s heart.
“Steve.”
Wanda nodded, turning to grab a jar from a shelf on the wall.
“What can I do?”
Wanda took a few jars into her arms, setting them beside the bowl.
“You’re doing it. He’s stopped moaning. Perhaps he recognizes your touch.” “Is he delirious?”
Wanda nodded.
“He’s woken up a few times. That’s usually when I have to call the big one in to calm him down.”
You nodded, sucking in a breath when one of Bucky’s shaky hands touched your thigh. You moved the cloth back to his face, patting gently.
“It’s me, Bucky. I’m here with you.”
Your only response was a moan, and Wanda spoke from behind you.
“Can you fill this with water from the bucket?”
You took a small glass vial from her, dipping it into the bucket and handing it to her before dipping the cloth back into the bucket and wringing it out again.
“Wanda?” “Mm-hmm?” “The wolf howling. That was you, wasn’t it?”
She didn’t answer, and you lifted your head to see her dark eyes on you. She nodded, and you swallowed as you moved back to Bucky, placing the cloth against his neck.
“What are you?”
Your voice was quiet, your eyes on Bucky, watching his eyes move under his eyelids as his sleep was restless. You finally glanced over your shoulder, Wanda’s eyes still on you. You swallowed again and Wanda’s lips curled in the slightest semblance of a smile.
“Will you help me put this salve on his wounds?”
You nodded, watching Wanda stir whatever she had in the big bowl.
“We can get the big one in to help hold him down.” “Does it hurt him?” “It does, but it helps as well. I’ve already had to convince the big one that I’m helping him and not purposefully hurting.”
You let your fingers graze through Bucky’s hair, your breath catching in your throat at the way his head moved, as if he were seeking out your touch. You nodded, and Wanda walked to the window, unlatching it and pushing it open. She whistled a short tune, then closed the window. A few seconds later, you watched Steve exit the barn, wiping his feet before he walked into the room, eyes widening at the sight of you.
“Your Highness.”
You smiled at him and the short bow he gave, turning your attention back to Bucky. Wanda’s accented voice broke through the quiet.
“It is time to clean his wounds again.”
Steve blew out a breath, lifting a hand to rub at his bearded chin. You wiped the cloth over Bucky’s mouth, your fingers trailing through his hair. Steve stepped towards you, voice gentle.
“Princess, you don’t have to watch this. Clint will keep you company in the stables.”
You shook your head.
“I need to be here.”
Steve nodded, exchanging a look with Wanda. Steve murmured to Bucky as he gently began pushing him onto his stomach. Bucky groaned, painful moans escaping his lips as he went with Steve’s urges. You tried to shush him as best you could, touching his face and whispering to him. A horrified gasp escaped your lips when you saw the wounds on his back, how angry red they were, how some were seeping. Wanda and Steve exchanged another glance above where you had knelt at Bucky’s head.
“Your highness?”
You looked up to Wanda, who had a soft smile on her face.
“You stay there, try to keep him still. The big one and I can apply the salve.” “My name is Steve.” “I know your name, vysokiy.”
You and Steve exchanged a look, a smile crossing your face at the flush in his cheeks. The smile slid from your face as you met Wanda’s eyes, saw the compassion and sorrow there.
“He will fight. He may be weakened, but he is still strong. He won’t know what he’s doing and if he hurts you, he doesn’t mean it.”
You nodded, closing your eyes for just a moment.
“Brace yourself.”
You did, your heart shattering in your chest when Wanda laid a stripe of thick green paste over the lashes on Bucky’s back. Bucky gasped, then screamed, legs flying up as the salve burned into his skin. Tears came to your eyes when you listened to him scream, as Wanda gently layered the salve onto the lashes in his skin and you finally heard Steve calling your name, looking up.
“Talk to him! Calm him down.”
You shook your head, unsure of what to do, and Steve ground his teeth as he pressed Bucky’s shoulders down.
“Let him hear your voice.”
You looked back at Bucky, the tears sliding down his cheeks breaking your heart. He screamed again as Wanda spread more salve on his back and you knelt in front of him.
“Bucky! Bucky, calm down. Just breathe.”
Bucky’s eyes flew open, wild and glassy from the fever. You shushed him, taking his face in your hands.
“You’re okay. I’m here.”
He whispered your name and you nodded, smiling through the tears rolling down your cheeks.
“Hi, Buck.”
He groaned and you moved closer, resting your forehead on his, feeling the blaze of his skin against yours.
“It’s okay, Bucky. I’m here.”
He murmured your name again, one shaky hand reaching for you. You took his hand, holding it in yours, kissing his fingers before bringing it to your chest. He gave quiet groans as Wanda and Steve spread the salve over his back, giving your hand intermittent squeezes. You whispered to him, words that you weren’t even sure made sense.
When Wanda quietly announced she was done, Bucky’s body relaxed. You smiled, blinking open your eyes in time to see Bucky lean back just enough to brush his nose against yours. Your eyes widened as he moved, wincing the slightest bit. You took the hand Steve offered you and stood to your feet, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of the chair he moved for you to the head of Bucky’s makeshift bed. You sat down and Steve moved the chair closer. He maneuvered Bucky just a bit, until Bucky’s head was on your lap. You stared at Bucky for a moment, shaking your head as you looked up to Steve, looking back down when Bucky gave a content sigh, quickly drifting back to sleep. You stared at his sleeping form, the furrow between his eyebrows that you gently smoothed away. Every touch of your hand seemed to relax him more, and you smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair, gently untangling the dark strands.
In the kitchen, Wanda smiled as she washed out the bowl she had used. Steve stood back, eyes in the room where Bucky slept on the Princess’ lap. He lifted a hand to his forehead, gently rubbing.
“Something on your mind, vysokiy?”
Steve swallowed.
“This … them … it can’t be. You mustknow that.” “I know that the heart is not something to be played around with.” “They can’t be together. This will just hurt them more in the end.” “Will it? You see him? He’s sleeping more restfully than he has since he regained consciousness. The infection is already calming.”
Steve shook his head.
“It doesn’t matter. She has to go back to the castle and he has to go back to being a guard. Not her guard, because her new husband won’t allow it.” “Her new husband is not her husband yet. There has been no wedding.” “One is coming. The whole kingdom knows it.”
Wanda turned to face him fully.
“And you think she will go through with it?”
Steve stared at her, head tilting slightly.
“What are you talking about?”
Wanda’s dark eyes danced from you and Bucky back to Steve.
“Surely you can feel the love between them as I do.”
Steve looked away, looking back when Wanda stepped closer to him.
“You think she’ll go through with marrying the monster who broke her heart by nearly killing the one who holds her heart?” “She doesn’t have a choice.” “There’s always a choice, vysokiy.”
Steve grabbed her wrist, his touch gentling when her fingers gently caressed his wrist.
“What do you know?” “Nothing as of yet. Is only a possibility.” “What is?”
Wanda looked to you, saw you dip your head to press your lips to the crown of Bucky’s head. She nodded.
“I do believe your Princess would rather die than be forced away from him.”
Steve dropped her hand, eyes flashing back to you and Bucky, who slept peacefully in your lap.
You stayed in the chair with Bucky’s head in your lap until the sun came up. He stirred, groaning softly before blinking his eyes open. His eyebrows drew together, confusion marring his features until he looked up and saw you smiling down at him.
“My lady?” “Good morning, Bucky. How are you feeling?”
Bucky blinked, as if he were unsure you were really there. You gently slipped your fingers through his hair again and his eyes drifted closed. You continued, his voice deep and sleepy.
“How are you here?” “I snuck out. Lady Jean is pretending to be me.”
Bucky moaned softly, realizing where his head had been laying. His cheeks flushed as he pushed himself up with a groan, and you quickly moved to help him sit up.
“Take it easy. Just breathe.”
He took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. You smiled, moving your hand from his bare shoulder to his neck. He groaned again, hanging his head.
“Just breathe, Bucky.” “When did you get here?”
You swallowed, gently rubbing the ball of his shoulder.
“Last night. I had to help Wanda and Steve dress your wounds. Which, it should be time to change the bandages. We had to apply them while you slept.”
Bucky watched as you lifted a strip of cloth from just under his shoulder blade.
“It might be easier if you lay back down.”
Bucky shook his head.
“No, I … I’d like to sit up.”
You smiled.
“Okay.”
You stepped away from him, going behind him.
“I’m sorry, this may hurt.” “I’ll be okay.”
You slowly lifted the bandages from his skin, some of the salve causing the bandages to stick. You pulled as gently as you could, wincing each time you heard Bucky hiss out a breath. When the final bandage was removed, you went to the bucket of water Clint had brought in before the sun rose. You dipped a fresh cloth into the water, bringing it back to gently clean Bucky’s back. He hissed at first, then moaned softly.
“I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. Just a bit tender.”
You nodded, tears blurring your eyes as you did your best to clean the wounds. Once the wounds were clean, you continued to pat the cloth over Bucky’s back, urged on by the pleased sighs leaving his lips. Soon, however, Bucky realized there was no rhyme or rhythm to your touches. The cloth was barely skimming over his skin, the gentlest of brushes.
“My lady?”
You didn’t answer, dropping your hand to your side, going back to the bucket and dipping the cloth back into it, wringing it almost dry.
“Princess?”
You laid your hands on the small table where the bucket sat. You hung your head, only turning when you heard Bucky move.
“Don’t try to get up. You’re weak.” “Why are you crying?”
You sniffled, shaking your head. Bucky held out his hand and you took it in both of yours, stepping forward at his gentle pull.
“Are those tears for me, sweet Princess?”
You nodded, closing your eyes as you moved one hand to brush his hair back from his face, the other grasping tightly to his hand.
“I’m so sorry.” “What could you possibly be sorry for?”
You lifted your head when Bucky gently pushed at your chin, tears shining in your eyes when his icy blues met yours. He shook his head and you gave a shaky sigh.
“It’s because of me. John did this to you because of—“ “Don’t…”
Bucky shook his head, clenching his jaw before he looked back to you.
“He did this. Not you.” “But he did it because of me. He wanted to teach me a lesson and he knew hurting you would be the best way to hurt me.”
You lowered your head again and Bucky shifted to push your chin up again.
“Don’t hide from me, Princess. Let me look at you.”
You swallowed, stepping closer to him.
“I hate him.” “I know.” “They’re going to make me marry him and I—“ “Shh.”
You were careful to keep your arms by your side when Bucky pulled you into his arms. You didn’t want to touch his back and cause him any sort of pain, but you couldn’t help resting your head against his shoulder. You lifted a hand to cup his face, closing your eyes when you felt his rough beard against your scalp.
“I know he won’t allow me to guard you anymore.” “I know.” “If I could change it, Princess …”
You lifted your head, nose brushing against Bucky’s chin.
“I wish it could be you.”
Bucky’s hands tightened around you and you gave a shaky sigh.
“My lady—“ “Don’t say that he’ll be a good king or that I’ll grow to love him. I won’t. I won’t ever love anyone, Bucky. No one but—“ “Please don’t.”
You couldn’t stop the sob, your hand tightening just a bit on his face, resting your palm against his cheek. Bucky closed his eyes, his voice pitched low.
“You have to go back.” “I don’t want to.” “I know.” “I get this terrible feeling that I’ll never see you again.”
You shook your head, moving back until you could look him in the eyes.
“I can’t live the rest of my life without you.” “You can, Princess. You’re strong.” “I’m not.”
Bucky reached out, taking your face in his hands, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs.
“You deserve more than a lowly castle guard.” “I deserve someone who loves me, and that monster never will. I can’t live like that, Bucky. I can’t.”
He swallowed at the sureness of your words, rubbing his thumbs under your eyes again, causing them to close. He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to your forehead, the place where your crown usually sat. You lifted your hands to hold onto his thick forearms as he spoke again.
“You have to go back.”
You shook your head, a smile coming to his lips at your stubbornness.
“You can’t turn your back on the kingdom.” “The kingdom doesn’t care about me. The only thing I’m good for is marrying someone who can rule because I never can.”
You opened your eyes, looking into his again.
“Do you know what he said to me while we were walking one day? He said maybe I won’t be as useless as my mother and actually give him a worthy heir.”
You shook your head.
“How can you say I should go back to that?”
Bucky looked down at your still-joined hands.
“It’s your duty as Princess—“ “I don’t care about duty!”
You let go of his hands and stood up, shaking your head as you looked at him.
“The only thing in this world I care about is you. It broke my heart when John tortured you the way that he did. Look at me, Bucky. I snuck out of the castle to get to you. I knew what a risk it was and I couldn’t help myself.”
You’d been pacing the small area, stopping and turning to him.
“He doesn’t love me. He never will, and I know that. Deep in my bones, I can feel it. But you …”
Bucky hung his head, putting his face in his hands. You could feel the cracks in your heart, the break beginning. The cracks only deepened when he lifted his head, pain-filled eyes meeting yours.
“I can’t give you anything.” “You think I care about jewels or gold?” “What about food? I have nothing, Princess. I am nothing.”
You shook your head, going to him and taking his hands as you knelt before him.
“You’reeverything, Bucky. If I never step foot in another castle, that would be fine with me. As long as I had you.”
Bucky stared down at your hands, shaking his head.
“You have to go back.”
You felt the cracks in your heart deepening even more.
“You won’t even try, will you?” “There’s nothing to try. My duty is to guard the castle and your duty is—“ “To marry a monster whose cruelty towards me brings him such joy.”
You shook your head, giving a sharp laugh at the tears welling up in your eyes. You stared into Bucky’s eyes, the pain you felt reflected in the stormy grey of his orbs. You slowly nodded, turning away from him.
“Princess…”
You didn’t turn back at his voice, as much as it hurt. Bucky noticed then the weight on your shoulders, the way every breath seemed heavy from your chest. He called you by your name and you turned, lifting pain-filled eyes to his. He went still, the sad smile you put on your face breaking his heart, along with the words you said.
“I love you, James. And I’ll never love anyone but you.”
The tears sparkling in your eyes made him want to run to you, but you turned away before he could move. He hung his head as he listened to your footsteps walk away, curling back up on the bed once the closing of the door signaled your departure.
“Your Highness? Prince John would like you to meet him in the dining hall. He wants to discuss the food for the wedding feast.”
You continued to stare out the window, taking a breath before you acknowledged Lady Jean.
“Tell the future king that whatever he desires is fine with me.” “He wants to get your input on some things, my lady.”
You pulled your dull, tired eyes from the window.
“I highly doubt that. But you know what I like, Lady Jean. Speak in my stead.” “It’s not my wedding, your grace.” “It’s not mine, either.”
Jean sighed, closing the door behind her as she made her way to you.
“You must leave this room, dear. Let’s take a stroll around the gardens.”
You turned your head towards her again.
“He cut down my tree. Did you know that?”
Jean knelt beside you, reaching a hand up to gently stroke your hair.
“He reinstated James. Did you knowthat?”
You shook your head.
“He’s a castle guard now, but he’s here. I could bring him to you.” “John would never allow that.” “Then we could take that walk and be sure to find him.”
You smiled sadly.
“I told him I love him. That I’d never love anyone but him.”
Jean’s hand fell from your hair. You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes again.
“I think I’d just like to stay here.” “Princess…” “Thank you, Jean. That will be all.”
Jean sighed, standing to her feet, laying her hand against your head before turning and leaving. You took in a breath, folding your arms and placing them on the windowsill, putting your head on your arms and crying.
When the moon was high in the sky and the castle was at rest, you crept as quietly as you could from your room. The guard outside your door, one wearing Prince John’s family crest, was asleep. He had his chin against his chest, quiet snores leaving his lips. You shook your head and silently crept past him, pulling your cloak tighter around you. You went for the winding staircase, making your way to the castle’s roof. Once there, you untied your cloak, letting it fall to the stones you slowly walked across. You stopped at the edge, leaning over the railing there, your heart fluttering at the distance to the ground.
You took in a breath and let it out slowly, taking hold of the railing and lifting yourself up. You slowly stood on top of the edge of the stone balcony, looking straight ahead instead of down.
If you looked down, you’d never do what you set out to do.
You closed your eyes, trying your best to clear your mind. You didn’t want to think of Jean or your parents or John and especially not Bucky. You lifted your head, the night wind rolling over you like a cold caress, cutting through the thin gown you wore to bed.
“Princess?”
You opened your eyes, the breath catching in your throat.
No.
“My lady, please. I need you to step down from there.”
Not him. Anyone but him.
“Princess, I can’t make it down fast enough to catch you. So that means I … I’ll have to follow you.” “You’re not my guard anymore.” “Maybe not where the future king is concerned, but I’ll always protect you.”
You turned your head then, tears welling up in your eyes when you saw him.
“Is that what you did when you sent me away? You were protecting me? By pushing me towards that monster?” “Take my hand and we can talk.”
Bucky stepped forward, hand outstretched to you. You shook your head, the stone ledge digging into your bare feet.
“I can’t live like this. I can’t marry him. His cruelty is constant and I can’t even begin to imagine what he’ll do when I’m his wife. He already treats me like he owns me and I can’t … I won’t live like that.”
You squared your shoulders, looking back out over the kingdom.
“If you do this, then you must know that I’m coming after you.”
You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Bucky staring up at you on the ledge.
“I can’t live in a world where you’re not.”
Your shoulders dropped at that. As a quiet sob broke free from your chest, Bucky stepped even closer, hand outstretched towards you. You put your hand in his and he stepped even closer as you bent down, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slid one arm around you, the other under your knees. He held you close as you put your face in his neck, and he knelt to the ground, keeping you in his arms. You stayed holding onto him, the warmth of his body bleeding through his armor and into you.
You couldn’t say anything. Tears slipped from your eyes and onto him, but Bucky didn’t speak either. He just knelt there on the castle roof, holding you, for what seemed like hours.
You stood on the balcony outside your chamber, staring out over the hazy day. Dark clouds were rolling over the hills in the distance, an ominous appearance to what should have been the happiest day of your life. You hadn’t slept well, your dreams invaded with hopeless, dark images and wolf howls. You exhaled slowly, closing your eyes, blinking them open again.
You tilted your head, the hooded figure at the edge of the trees sending a chill up your spine. You instinctively knew that was Wanda, and you felt a pull towards her. You watched her come to a stop at the tree line, hands coming out from under her cloak, twisting and turning and you would swear they were glowing red. You would also swear that she was looking right at you, and you turned, hurrying from your chamber. You were halfway down the steps before you realized how empty the castle was, considering your wedding ceremony and feast were tonight. You lifted your skirts and ran through the open doors, hurrying down past the stables. The closer you got to the tree line, the further away it seemed Wanda slipped. You jumped at a crack of thunder, glancing over your shoulder to see Bucky stop in his tracks on a balcony of the castle. You stopped as he did, watching him shake his head and call for you.
You’re not sure what came over you. You felt as though your body wasn’t your own as you turned and ran into the forest. You called for Wanda, but got no response. You kept running, sucking in a breath when you heard the commotion behind you, of the guards mounting their horses to come after you.
“Wanda! I know that was you. Where are you?”
You went still when you heard a wolf howl, glancing over your shoulder when you heard snarls and yips close by. You watched a pack of wolves walk out of the trees and slowly surround you. You swallowed, closing your eyes and wishing you could have had one more moment with Bucky.
You gasped as a wolf snapped its jaws at you, and you backed into a thorn bush, cutting your arm. You yelped when another wolf did the same thing, gasping when a wolf bit your gown, tugging until it ripped. On your other side, another wolf did the same thing. You didn’t want to run because you knew you couldn’t outrun the wolves. But you noticed strangely that the wolves weren’t trying to hurt you. They seemed more preoccupied with tearing your gown.
You turned and cut your other arm on the thorn bush, your blood dripping onto the scraps of your gown on the ground. One of the wolves threw its head back and gave a loud howl, your eyes widening when a larger wolf stepped out of the trees. You noticed something in this wolf’s mouth, a vial that seemed familiar to you, but you didn’t know why. The wolf stopped directly in front of you, tilting his head to the side before dropping the vial at your feet. A strange crimson smoke wafted from your feet up to your nose, and you inhaled deeply.
You stared into the wolf’s eyes, your mouth opening as your breathing sped up. Pain shot through your body, and you threw your head back and screamed. You fell to your knees and screamed again, the pain seeming to completely encompass you. The wolves began snapping at you and howling, your screams interspersed with their howls. You gave a gasping, wet gurgle, feeling like your heart was trying to burst out of your chest. A quiet groan was the last sound you could make before you collapsed, the pain too much for you to handle.
You were hanging on the edge of consciousness, unsure of what was happening. You could swear you felt the wolves’ nudging you with their noses, causing you to roll over onto your belly. You were sure you felt claws scratch one leg, then the other, until a quiet yip sounded. You felt the wolves nudge you again, and you felt yourself be lifted, placed onto something soft and warm. You felt wind against your skin, and the cool drops of rain against your face was the last thing you felt before you lost consciousness.
As storms raged through the kingdom, a blanket of grief settled over the castle. Your mother refused to leave her chamber, demanding the curtains closed and shrouding herself in darkness. Your father seemed to be in a fog. John saw no reason to stay, leaving his condolences before heading back to his kingdom.
Lady Jean Grey was inconsolable, sitting in your chamber and weeping. The castle was quiet and dark, and from his place on a balcony, Bucky decided he’d prefer to be publicly whipped every day of his life than to have to live with this godforsaken pain.
He stood unmoving in the rain, soaked to the skin, completely numb. He kept his eyes trained towards the woods, hoping against all odds that you’d step through the tree line. Steve stayed beside him, sometimes trying to talk with him, most of the time just standing by.
Every time Bucky closed his eyes, he saw you. The sweet smiles you only gave to him, the way your eyes lit up when he was near. He could feel your gentle touch, reminders of the comfort only you could bring when he was at Wanda’s cottage. He could hear your laughter that only happened when he did something that tickled you, the soft way you said his name, the only one besides Steve who could call him Bucky.
It was a pain he never wanted, a grief so heavy and sharp he wasn’t sure he’d survive.
He’d fallen to his knees when he and the rest of the guards arrived at the clearing in the woods, in the midst of the remnants of what was to be your wedding gown strewn about, soaked with your blood. The howls of the wolves as they’d retreated had him reaching for his sword, but his hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t take hold. He’d managed to pick up a scrap of lace that was tattered at one end, soaked with rain or wolf saliva, he didn’t know. It was now tucked close to the place where his heart once beat.
They hadn’t found your body before the rains fell, but from the noises he’d heard, your screams and the howls and snarls of the wolves, everyone knew your fate.
Now, Bucky just stood. If the castle fell under attack, he’d rush to the front line. He wouldn’t put up much of a fight, and perhaps one day they’d say he died a noble death. Steve would know the truth, but he wouldn’t speak of it. Until then, Bucky would focus on trying to breathe through the weight of his grief.
As the sun started its descent, Bucky gazed over the tree line. A hooded figure stood in the distance, face shrouded by a cloak. Bucky watched hands appear from under the cloak, turning and fingers moving, pops of red glowing around the digits. He turned to the guard at the other end of the balcony, found him with his eyes closed, chin resting against his chest. Bucky swallowed, looking back out to see the figure turn away, cloak falling to reveal a head of fiery red hair, hand flicking above her head as she walked away.
“Wanda.”
Bucky turned and left his post, hurrying into the castle and down the steps, not realizing how empty the castle was. He burst through the doors and ran for the trees, bursting into the forest before he heard—and ignored— Steve calling his name.
Bucky ran through the forest, armor clanging with every move he made. He stopped, a strange feeling coming over him as he quickly removed his armor, leaving it in a pile with his sword carefully on top before he continued running. He burst into a clearing, looking from left to right, going still when he heard the howl of a wolf much too nearby. He closed his eyes when he realized where he was, the same clearing where he’d found all that was left of you. He opened his eyes again to find wolves surrounding him, on every side and at every turn. He reached for his sword, hands falling to his sides when he realized his armor was far behind him.
As the wolves snarled and bared their teeth at him, his only thought was, if the gods had mercy on him, at least he’d see you again soon.
He closed his eyes, jolting when he felt a wolf bite at his pants, opening his eyes and trying to pull his leg away, only to hear the seam rip. The wolf shook it’s head with a mouthful of fabric before spitting it out and growling at Bucky. Bucky braced himself when the wolves charged at him at once, only to quickly realize they weren’t trying to hurt him; it seemed they only wanted to rip his clothes. Bucky hissed out a breath when his now-bare arm swiped a thorn bush, blood dripping from the cut onto his tattered clothes.
He went still when a much larger wolf stepped into the clearing, a strange vial in its mouth that seemed to glow red. Bucky stood as still as he could, until the wolf stopped before him, staring into his eyes until the wolf dropped the vial, deep red smoke curling from Bucky’s feet into his nostrils as he inhaled.
Bucky winced as pain shot through his chest. He coughed, choking a bit before a pain-filled scream left his lips. He couldn’t stop the screams as pain wracked his body, and he hit his knees, hands scrabbling at his chest as he coughed and moaned. He fell forward, landing against something soft, instead of flat on his face in the dirt. Quiet moans left his lips as he felt claws against his legs, and he felt his body being shifted. He managed to catch a glimpse of lightning streaking across the sky before raindrops fell against his overheated skin. As he felt wind whip his face, his only thought was of you, wondering if just maybe, you’d be waiting for him in heaven.
The damp, cool cloth felt like heaven against Bucky’s overheated skin. Fever raged through his body, but gentle caresses and the cloth helped. He kept hearing a soft, familiar voice repeat his name, but the fever kept pushing him down into unconsciousness.
“Sleep,” the gentle voice murmured. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Bucky whispered the name of his lost Princess, asleep before he could hear the voice’s response.
“His fever should have broken by now.” “Perhaps he still had some infection in him.” “You said you got rid of that.” “I don’t know what to tell you, velichiye. Your fever lasted almost as long.”
Bucky was hovering on the edge of consciousness, two feminine voices reaching his ears. He tried to open his eyes, but they were so heavy. He gave a quiet moan, the swishing of skirts filling the space before a damp cloth was pressed
WORD COUNT: 10,251 (and I am NOT sorry) WARNINGS: Angst, drama, courtroom proceedings, talk of murder, talk of and actual illegal dealings, explicit sexual content, violence AUTHOR’S NOTE: This extra-long chapter is jam-packed and it is a doozy. Good luck, turtledoves. Buckle up for this ride.
Steve paced his bedroom, bare feet sinking into the plush carpet as his long strides took him from one wall to another. He no longer felt the sharp claws of panic digging into his chest; instead, a sense of dread was deep in his gut, so dark he wanted to gather you in his arms, crawl into bed, pull the covers over the two of you and never see the light of day again.
He stopped, clearing his throat, giving a hard shake of his head. He took in a breath, letting it out slowly, lifting his chin and once again rehearsing the words he’d say at the courthouse.
Today was his last chance.
Today would be the last day of your trial. A day of nothing but closing arguments, where Fury would lay out the facts he had presented, ticking off bullet points given by his expert witnesses, bringing up as many of Steve’s failures as he could. Natasha would sit at Fury’s side perfectly poised with her back straight, fiery hair smooth, the picture of Lady Justice.
After Fury gave his closing remarks, Steve would give an impassioned plea that the jury see you as he did, as you were: innocent. He’d do his best to lay seeds of doubt in the jury’s mind where Fury and Natasha were concerned, focusing on the holes in their stories.
Steve nodded, going into his bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. His hair was in place, beard neatly trimmed. Once he got dressed, he’d be as poised as Natasha.
As long as no one looked in his eyes.
Steve sank to one knee, propping his elbow on his knee. He covered his mouth with one hand, the other gripping hard onto the counter. He closed his eyes and gave in for just a moment, allowing the horror nudging at his mind to wash over him.
“Steve?”
He opened his eyes at the gentle knock on his bedroom door, pushing to his feet.
“Yeah, come in.”
He heard the door open, heard the shuffling of soft footsteps before you were standing in the bathroom doorway.
“Sorry, I was …”
Steve flicked his eyes to the mirror, looking at you instead of his reflection. Your eyes were wide as you studied his bare torso, and they widened the slightest bit more when you caught Steve smiling at you. You looked away, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you fought the smile. Steve chuckled, grabbing his toothbrush out of the holder and wetting it, applying toothpaste and starting to brush his teeth.
You cleared your throat, glancing at the floor before you looked to him.
“I was just making sure you were ready. It’s almost time to go and I hadn’t seen you.”
Steve nodded, bending to spit in the sink before rinsing.
“I’m just in my head today.” “I expect today will be tough for you?”
Steve nodded, putting the toothbrush back and grabbing his bottle of mouthwash. He took a swig and started swishing the liquid in his mouth, letting his head fall back as he gargled before spitting the mouthwash into the sink. He pressed the hand towel to his lips, closing his eyes for a moment.
His eyes opened again at the gentle touch between his shoulder blades. He wiped his mouth and set the towel to the side, turning to face you, leaning against the counter. His hands went to your hips, pulling you to stand between his legs, and you looped your arms around his neck, giving a quiet sigh as he nodded again.
“Today is going to be tough. I’ve got to basically rehash everything we’ve said and done during the trial, reminding the jury of every misstep Fury and Nat took.”
Wouldn’t be too many of those, unfortunately. Steve sighed, licking his lips as he met your eyes again.
“Fury’s going to be tough on you today.” “But I’m not going to be questioned again?”
Steve shook his head.
“Do you remember in school, how we reviewed for finals?” “High school was a long time ago, Steve.”
He smiled.
“I know. But you remember, right? How the teacher had to basically sum up everything we’d learned that year, condensing nine months’ worth of instruction and homework and tests into one final?”
You nodded, and Steve gently squeezed your hips.
“That’s what I’ve got to do today. Bring up every aspect of how innocent you are, what Brock did to you, how even though the bastard deserved what he got, you weren’t the one to give it to him.”
You slowly nodded, closing your eyes as Steve pressed his lips to your forehead. You leaned closer to him, keeping your eyes closed as you rested your head against his bare shoulder. Steve sighed as he leaned his head against yours, closing his eyes as he held you.
“We’re going to get through this, Y/N. I promise.”
You blinked open your eyes, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You nodded, forcing yourself to smile.
“I know.”
You could see the lie in your eyes, thankful that Steve had his eyes closed.
You walked into the apartment and took your shoes off, walking in your stocking-covered feet to the windows. Steve was behind you, setting his briefcase by his shoes and undoing his tie. Bucky was behind him, and Peggy rounded out your crew. She slid her shoes off beside yours, following you to the windows. You glanced over your shoulder when she was close, and she smiled at you.
“That went very well.” “Did it?”
Peggy nodded.
“As well as could be expected. Bucky and I watched the jury, and Steve’s impassioned pleas got to some of them.”
You swallowed.
“Someof them.”
You crossed your arms over your chest and looked back out the windows. You closed your eyes when Peggy’s gentle hand touched your shoulder.
“We just need one, darling.”
You nodded, looking back out the window, seeing Steve’s reflection in the glass. He was staring at you, and you wanted nothing more than to run to him, bury your face in his chest and let him hold you. You didn’t feel like you could do that with Peggy there, so you let your arms fall, turning to face Peggy.
“I need just a minute.” “Of course.”
You stepped past her, going down the hallway to your room. You could feel Steve’s eyes on you, but you made it to your room, closing the door behind you and leaning against it for a moment. You went to the closet, dropping your jacket to the ground on the way. You unbuttoned your shirt and pulled it free of your skirt, letting it fall as your shaky hands pushed through your clothes. You could feel your breath coming faster, feel your heart pounding in your chest. You finally found the shirt you were looking for, hands shaking too hard to get the shirt free of the hanger. You hung your head, looking over your shoulder as you heard your door open.
“Y/N?”
You couldn’t answer, but you figured he must know that. Steve poked his head in to see you standing there in your bra and skirt, and you shook your head.
“I can’t … I can’t get it down. I can’t …”
Steve stepped up behind you and pulled the hanger off the rack, carefully sliding it free, holding the olive-colored shirt in his hands. You watched as he slid the shirt over your head, and as soon as your arms were through the sleeves, he had you wrapped in his own. You gasped, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tightly, moaning softly when he tightened his hold on you.
“I got you. You’re okay. I’m right here.”
You nodded, putting your face in his neck. Steve held you against him, your heartbeat frantic against the steady beat of his own.
You whimpered as he bent his head, shivering when the heat of his breath washed over your neck. Your nails dug into his shoulders and Steve bared his teeth for just a moment.
“You’ve got to calm down, honey. Please. Just breathe for me.” “Steve.” “I’m right here.”
Your hand moved to his cheek, the softness of his beard tickling your palm. He lifted his head the same time you did, and with a gentle nudge of your wrist, your lips were on his. Steve gave a quiet groan as he deepened the kiss, one hand moving to cradle the back of your head. One of your hands slid into his hair, feeling yourself relax with each movement of Steve’s lips against yours. You sucked in a breath and let out a soft laugh against his lips when Steve’s hand slid beneath your shirt, the warmth of his palm burning into the bare skin of your waist.
“We need to stop before Peggy walks in.” “Okay.”
You nodded, making no moves to stop kissing him. Steve chuckled as your fingers slid through his hair, pulling him back when he tried to pull away.
“We’ll have a lot of explaining to do if Peggy catches us.” “You think she doesn’t know?”
Steve blinked as he looked down, watching your dazed eyes slowly blink a few times before you lifted your eyes to his. Steve smiled, leaning in to press one more kiss to your lips.
“I’d like to revisit this …”
He motioned between the two of you with one finger.
“A little later, when we’re alone.” “As you wish, counselor.”
Steve groaned, turning away from you and putting his forehead against the wall.
“You can’t say things like that.” “Like what?”
Your eyes were wide and innocent, and Steve laughed as he took you back into his arms.
“You okay now?”
You nodded, leaning your head against his.
“Thank you.” “Anytime.”
He kissed your temple before he turned and left the closet. You closed your eyes and gave a deep exhale, shimmying out of your skirt and pantyhose, pulling on a pair of leggings. You grabbed the cardigan Steve had given you, squaring your shoulders and nodding once before you left the closet.
Steve was looking over files as he sat on the couch while you tried to read a book. Peggy and Bucky had left after the four of you ate Chinese takeout for dinner, their talks of the trial mostly going over your head. Steve kept nudging your ankle with his toes under the table, smiling at you when you’d look at him.
“Are you ever going to turn the page?”
You blinked as you lifted your head from the book in your lap. Steve was looking at the paper he held in his hand, a smile on his face. After a moment, he set the paper aside, turning towards you. You stared at him, until a chuckle spilled from his lips.
“You’ve been on that same page ever since we sat down. You’re not reading at all.”
You huffed as you set the book aside.
“I can’t focus. My mind’s all over the place and I feel like I could crawl out of my skin.”
Steve nodded.
“I know. It’s the trial.” “I know it’s the trial, but why am I still acting like this?”
Steve stood up, walking over to your side of the couch and sitting beside you. You sucked in a breath as he scooped you up, sitting you in his lap, settling back and running his fingers up and down your arm. You gave a quiet whimper, relaxing into him and resting your head on his shoulder.
“You’re all wound up from the trial. Everything’s hitting you at once.” “I don’t like it.” “I know.”
Steve chuckled, letting his hand drift lower, until he was gently massaging your knee.
“I, uh… I think I remember a way to relax you.”
You raised an eyebrow a few moments before you sat back. Steve slowly turned his head to meet your eyes, and you watched his eyes dip to your lips before meeting yours again. You smiled, shifting until you were straddling his lap. You put your hands on his shoulders and he shook his head.
“This may be a bad idea.” “I think I’m due for a bad idea.”
Steve laughed as his warm hands moved to cup your cheeks. You gave a quiet sigh as he gently tugged you down, until your lips were pressed against his.
“How long will the jury deliberate?”
You and Steve were cuddled together on the couch, watching the snow fall outside the big windows. You had his cardigan wrapped around you, your back to his side. His arm was loosely around your waist, his other hand absentmindedly tapping on the arm of the couch.
“There’s no way to tell. They could come back now, or they could deliberate for the rest of the month.”
You slowly nodded, giving a deep exhale. Steve turned his head to kiss the top of yours.
“It’s going to be fine, babe. Whatever happens, you’ll be fine.” “That’s easy for you to say.” “Y/N, I promised I was going to get you out of this. I meant it.” “You did the best you could, Steve. I just …” “What? Hope it was enough?”
You looked down at your hands.
“I didn’t say that.” “I know. Honey, hey. Look at me.”
You shook your head, so Steve slid off the couch until he was on the floor in front of you. He gently touched you, lifting your chin until your eyes were on his. He shook his head again.
“I’m not going to let you go to jail.” “Steve—“ “No, I mean it.”
You shook your head.
“It’s not up to you. It’s in the jury’s hands now.”
Steve nodded, but something in his eyes made you stop. You tilted your head, shaking it slightly.
“Steve, what did you do?”
Steve’s blue eyes burned into yours, neither of you saying a word until his soft voice broke the silence.
“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” “Steve.”
He stood to his feet, holding a hand out for you.
“Steve, talk to me.” “When there’s something to talk about, we will. Until then, let’s go to bed.”
You stared up at him, a smile coming to his lips.
“Do I need to throw you over my shoulder caveman style? I’ll do it.” “I want you to tell me—“ “I will, I promise. Just be with me now.”
You closed your eyes, gasping softly when Steve bent to gather you in his arms. You put your face against his chest, looping one arm around his neck as he carried you down the hall to your bedroom.
You were standing at the stove, oven mitt on one hand, holding tightly to the glass bowl you had over a pot of simmering water. Your wrist was working a whisk, doing your best to ensure the hollandaise sauce turned out. Steve was sitting at the bar watching you, elbow on the counter, chin on his hand.
“Did it work?” “Not finished yet.”
Steve hummed to himself, biting his lip as he watched you concentrate. He watched as you slowed your whisking, lifting the whisk from the sauce, watching it drip silkily back into the bowl. You turned to him with a big smile on your face.
“It worked!”
Steve gave a soft laugh, sitting back as he watched you plate the breakfast you’d worked so hard on, spooning the sauce over the top of the eggs Benedict. You set a plate in front of him and he grabbed hold of your hand.
“Would you go to culinary school?”
You smiled, giving his hand a squeeze.
“I don’t know.” “Why not?” “I’m too old.” “Babe, you’re never too old.”
You looked down at your hand in Steve’s, the gentle way his thumb slid over your skin.
“I’d like to, but I don’t know if I’d make it.” “You’d make it.” “You’re just saying that because you like what I feed you. Cooking is a very competitive field.” “It doesn’t have to be. You don’t have to go to culinary school and then open your own restaurant and cook for kings. You could go because you love it and to hone your skill. Graduate and use the degree to cook for me.”
You gave a sharp laugh.
“Think that highly of yourself, do you?” “Let’s be honest, I’d gain so much weight if you did that.”
You laughed again, smiling when Steve lifted your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.
“If you want to go to culinary school, we’ll make it happen. If you want to just watch YouTube tutorials and use me as your guinea pig, I’m good with that, too.”
Your smile softened as he took a bite, the groan of appreciation that left his lips causing your cheeks to warm. You ate your breakfast as Steve gobbled his up, and once he was debating licking his plate, you spoke softly.
“Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself?”
Steve finished the coffee at his elbow, shaking his head.
“Y/N, I’ve told you—“ “I need you to stop acting like me going to prison isn’t an option. There’s a very real chance the jury finds me guilty, Steve.” “They won’t. I made sure that they see you as I do and I—“ “Steve.”
You blew out a breath, shaking your head as you set your hands on your hips. Your eyes met his and you shook your head again, mouth opening, then closing as the doorbell rang. Steve shook his head, making no moves to get up.
“They’ll go away.”
There was a knock at the door this time and you sighed.
“I don’t think they will.” “Y/N—“ “I’ll just go to my room. I’m not feeling very up to company right now.”
Steve repeated your name, but you just touched your palm to his cheek as you walked by him, going down the hallway to your room, pulling his cardigan tighter around you. The knock resounded off the door again and Steve blew out a breath as he stood up and walked over to fling open the door.
“Easy, killer. Where’s the fire?”
Steve hung his head as Tony walked past him to let himself in. Steve closed the door and turned to lean against it, slowly lifting his head and opening his eyes. Tony raised an eyebrow and Steve shook his head, walking through the penthouse to his office, Tony following close behind. Once there, Steve locked the door, then turned to the man he considered his brother.
“Did you get it?”
Tony pulled out a sealed Manila envelope.
“Of course I got it.”
Steve nodded, taking the envelope and tapping it against his palm.
“How much do I owe?” “Don’t worry about it.” “Tony—“ “Hey. You want to protect her, I want to protect you. This is how it goes. If this ever goes down, there’s nothing leading to you.” “So, what? You’ll take the blame?” “Hell no. There’s nothing leading to me, either. I know there’s a song to the opposite and all, but you want to keep friends in high places, counselor.”
Steve snorted, tapping the envelope against his palm again.
“And it’s all in here?”
Tony nodded, eyes darting to the envelope before he let out a sigh.
“Look, there’s something in there for you, too.”
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed and Tony shook his head.
“I think we both know what’s going to happen when she finds out what’s in this envelope. I just know that if it were Pepper …”
His sentence trailed off as he looked at the envelope in Steve’s hands, then nodded. Steve swallowed, looking down, then back up.
“Tony—“ “Just …”
He shook his head, walking over and taking the envelope, using one hand to press it against Steve’s chest.
“The less I know the better.” “You’re in too deep as it is.” “Yeah, but I’m like a steel trap.”
Tony smiled as he patted the envelope against Steve’s chest. Steve took it, looking down at it as Tony walked to the door.
“Little brother?”
Steve lifted his head, a sad smile on Tony’s face.
“Whatever happens with this trial … whether you decide to use what’s in that envelope or not … I get it.” “I love her, Tony.” “I know. I’m just sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” “Tone—“
Tony shook his head, smiling back at Steve.
“We’ll talk when all this has blown over.”
For half a second, Steve wondered if Tony truly understood what he was saying. Tony’s smile slipped for a millisecond as he was unable to hide the wave of grief that slipped over his face, and Steve knew that Tony knew exactly what he was saying.
“Tony.”
Tony turned from his place at the door, one hand on the doorknob. He smiled again, nodding as he winked at Steve. Steve could only nod back, sinking into his desk chair as Tony walked out of the apartment.
You walked out of your bedroom, hoping whoever had been in the apartment had left. You were desperate to see Steve, to feel his arms around you and soak in his strength. You stopped in the living room, across from the wall of windows as he walked into the kitchen. He had a large envelope in his hand that he set on the counter, stopping and pulling his phone from his pocket. You watched a myriad of emotions cross his face as he read the text, and as his blue eyes lifted to you, you felt your heart sink to your toes.
“What is it?” “The jury reached a verdict. We’re due in court at nine A.M. tomorrow.”
You stared at him, slowly nodding as he slid the phone onto the kitchen counter. You turned to look out the windows and he made his way to you.
“Honey.”
You turned and threw your arms around him when he was near, body trembling almost violently in his arms. Steve closed his eyes, resting his head on yours.
“I’m here. You’re okay. I’m right here.” “What am I … oh god. Steve.” “Shh. You’re okay.”
You clung to him, holding him as tightly as he was holding you. Tears came to your eyes as you whispered almost silently.
“I’m so scared.”
Steve would have sworn his heart had broken then as he pulled you even closer.
“I’ve got you. Do you hear me, Y/N? I have you. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”
You gave a quiet whimper and Steve rubbed your back as he continued speaking.
“You’re okay. You’re going to be fine. You’re not going anywhere.”
You gave a shaky breath, then pushed your way out of his arms. Steve stared at you with worry in his eyes and confusion on his face and you shook your head.
“How can you say that?! How can you stand there and say everything is fine when it’s so clearly not?!”
Steve’s eyebrows raised as you shook your head again.
“Don’t stand there and say that I’m going to be fine because I won’t be.”
Steve pursed his lips and nodded.
“You’re not going to prison.” “You don’t know that.” “Yes, I do.” “It’s illegal for you to talk to the jury, so no, you don’t know.”
Steve turned and walked out of the room, and you closed your eyes, letting out a long breath. You lifted a hand to rub at your eyes, setting your jaw when he walked back into the room. He had the Manila envelope in his hand that he’d been carrying earlier, and he handed it to you. You shook your head, taking the envelope from him.
“What is this?” “Open it.”
You met his eyes, just staring at him for a moment before you bent the metal flaps at the back and opened the envelope. You looked inside, then back to Steve, walking to the bar in the kitchen and turning the envelope upside down, the contents spilling onto the bar. You glanced back at Steve as shaky fingers reached for the passport on top.
You opened the little book and your eyebrows furrowed. The face printed on the paper was your own, but the name was wrong. You shook your head, looking to Steve.
“What is this?”
He nodded to you, and you lifted a piece of paper. Your breath caught in your throat as you read the birth certificate. Most of the details were correct, such as the length and weight, but the location, the date, the name, and the names of the parents were wrong. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you looked back to Steve.
“What have you done?”
Steve put his hands in his pockets, slowly making his way to you.
“I’m not going to lie and say that I know all the business Tony does is above board. I’m not stupid or naive. I asked him for this.” “You asked him to … to what? Steal an identity?”
Steve chuckled.
“We didn’t steal anyone’s identity. We made you a new one.”
You could hear the blood rushing in your ears as you stared at the papers in front of you. You shook your head again, hand shaking as you laid it on the pile of papers before you.
“Steve.” “Look.”
He picked up the passport, looking at the name.
“Kathleen Michelle Barber. You could be Kat. Or Katie, Kate. We could call you Micki. Micki Barber doesn’t have anything to do with Y/N Rumlow. They don’t even know each other.” “Because Micki Barber isn’t real.”
Steve dropped the passport, taking hold of your hands.
“But she couldbe.”
You shook your head, pulling your hands free from his.
“I can’t pretend to be someone else. I’ll … I’ll spend the rest of my life on the run and I don’t want to do that.” “But you’ll be free.”
You shook your head again, raking your hands through your hair.
“I spent my whole adult life wanting to hide from Brock.”
You closed your eyes at the word, face screwing up as if the taste of his name was sour on your tongue. You shook your head again, meeting Steve’s eyes.
“I can’t spend the rest of my life as a fugitive. I can’t keep looking over my shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I can’t, Steve.” “Even if it’s the only way?”
You went still, the weight of his words hitting you. You turned your head to see his eyes on the papers on the bar, lip bit between his teeth.
“Oh.”
He lifted his eyes to yours and you tried to smile.
“Oh.”
Steve shook his head and you lifted a shaky hand to rest on his shoulder. Your lips trembled as you tried to keep your tears at bay, tried to keep smiling.
“You think we’re going to lose.”
He didn’t answer you, just lifted the saddest eyes you’d ever seen to look at you. You nodded, gently squeezing his shoulder.
“You wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble if you didn’t think we’d …”
You nodded again, looking at the papers and biting the inside of your cheek. Steve spoke softly.
“I’m so sorry.” “Oh, honey. No.”
You turned to face him, lifting your hands to cup his face. You smiled, giving a tiny shake of your head.
“You did the best you could. You did your very best, and I know that.” “It wasn’t enough.” “It was for me.”
Steve closed his eyes, tilting his head into your touch. You kept hold of his face, turning your head to stare at the papers on the bar. Steve pressed his lips to your forehead, the soft sound of his voice making you close your eyes.
“It’s legit. No one would ever question any of the papers. There’s a driver’s license, birth certificate, GED certificate. There’s a black card with no limit.” “I can’t use that.” “You can. Tony set up the account weeks ago. He won’t even notice the money’s gone. You could get a penthouse like this one. A little cottage in the woods. A bungalow on the beach. Anything you want.”
Your eyes slowly opened and your hands slid from his face to hang at your sides. You turned to face him, reaching up to his chest and taking hold of his sweater in both your hands.
“What if I want you?”
Steve stared at you, hands moving to your waist. You turned your head slightly when he kissed your temple, and you leaned over, moving the pile of papers. Your fingers picked up another small booklet, and you brought it between you and Steve, looking up at him.
“Why would I need two passports?”
Steve took the booklet from you, opening it and feeling his heart give a double-thump in his chest. You went on your tiptoes, peering over the passport to see the picture and name inside. You went back to your flat feet, staring up at Steve, waiting until he lifted his eyes and met yours. He shook his head, looking back down at the passport in his hand.
“I didn’t … I don’t …”
You took hold of his wrist, moving it until you could read the name.
“Andrew Stephen Barber.”
He met your eyes again and you smiled softly.
“Andy? Andy and Micki?”
Steve shook his head, staring down at the passport again.
“This is what he meant.” “Hmm?”
Steve met your eyes, waving the passport slightly.
“Tony, he said there was something for me in the envelope. Said he’d want it if it was Pepper.”
Steve looked back down, at the face staring back at him from the passport, rolling his fingers over the name. You reached back into the pile, a shaky breath leaving your lips when you slid the marriage certificate where Steve could read it. He looked from the paper to you, then back to the paper. You gently took hold of his wrist, waiting until he looked into your eyes.
“Would you come with me?”
He didn’t answer you, and you smiled.
“You have a whole life here, Steve. A family. A job. You can’t leave it.”
He threw the passport onto the bar, grabbing your waist and pulling you close.
“I’d leave it all behind for you.” “I can’t ask you to do that.” “It won’t matter if you’re not here.”
You lifted your hands to his face and he closed his eyes, blowing out a breath. He opened his eyes again and stared at you.
“I’ll do it.” “Steve.” “We can leave tonight.” “And what, never look back?”
Steve nodded, and you let out a quiet laugh. You moved your thumbs along the dip of his cheeks and shook your head.
“I can’t take you away from your friends and family.” “Well, I can’t let them take you away from me.” “Steve—“
He shut you up by laying his lips against yours, kissing you soundly as he pulled you closer. You felt the air seem to shift between you as you slid your arms around him, and Steve gave a soft groan as his lips moved against yours. You pushed your hands under his sweater and he groaned, leaning back to pull the sweater over his head. He gave a quiet laugh when you huffed a breath at his white t-shirt, pulling that over his head and letting it fall to the floor on top of the sweater. You looked up at him as you let the cardigan fall off your shoulders, pooling on the ground. You pulled your t-shirt off and let it fall, and Steve swallowed as he touched you, his big, warm hands skating across your skin, bringing goosebumps in their wake.
“We should slow down. I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.” “I’m okay, Steve.”
You weren’t trembling, nothing in your brain screaming at you to stop or remember how it had been in the past. All you could focus on was Steve, how good he smelled and how good his hands felt on you. You shivered and moved closer to him, and he smiled as he pulled you against his chest. His hands cupped your face as he spoke softly.
“I don’t want you to think we have to do this just because something might happen tomorrow.”
You shook your head.
“I don’t. I just want to be with you, Steve. I just want you.”
Steve held your face in his hands as he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a sweet kiss. He let his hands fall, taking hold of your hand as he led you from the living room down to his bedroom. Your eyes widened at the sight of his huge bed, and he walked to it, sitting down on the edge and pulling you to stand between his thighs.
“You’re in charge here.”
You nodded, and Steve went on.
“If you want to stop at any time, just say so.”
You nodded again, and he gave your hand a squeeze.
“I want you to hear me, sweetheart.” “I hear you.” “I mean it. If you’re the slightest bit uncomfortable, we will stop.”
You slid your arms around his neck, shivering when his warm hands pushed you closer to his chest. You stared into his eyes and smiled.
“Move your hands up.”
He did as you asked, one eyebrow raising when you nodded for him to keep going. When his fingers came to rest at the clasp of your bra, you smiled while your cheeks flamed. Steve gave a quiet chuckle, opening the clasp and taking hold of the straps, keeping hold of your bra as you stepped backwards out of it.
He let out a long exhale as he stared at you, dropping the bra to the floor as he stood up and took a step towards you. You let him get a bit closer, then you took a step back. Steve stopped, holding up his hands and stepping back towards the bed.
“No, come … come on.”
Steve tilted his head as he stared at you, and you nodded, a smile on your face.
“It’s okay.”
Steve gave a slow nod, then took a step towards you. You took a step back, and the two of you continued that little dance until your back was against the wall. Steve smiled as he laid one hand against the wall beside your head, dipping his own to rub his nose against yours.
“You playing with me, sweetheart?”
You smiled, sliding one hand to his hip just above his jeans, watching his eyes close as you slid your hand to the small of his back. Steve leaned closer, making his hand into a fist and resting his forearm against the wall. Your eyes slid closed as your fingers flexed, gently pushing on his back. Steve moved closer and a breath caught in your throat.
“You okay?”
You nodded, opening your eyes to see him staring down at you, ensuring you were okay. You smiled, lifting your chin and pressing your lips to his. Steve kissed you back, moving a hand to hold your cheek. Your fingers shook the slightest bit when you reached down to undo his belt, sliding it through the belt loops and dropping it to the floor. Steve moved to rest his forehead against yours as he watched you unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down. He kissed your forehead and you gave a shaky exhale, lifting your head so he could kiss your lips.
Steve slid his fingers under the waistband of your leggings, and you sucked in a breath. He knelt as he slowly pulled your leggings down, and you laid a hand on his shoulder as you stepped out of them. Steve turned his head and kissed your knee, standing up only to push his jeans off and step out of them.
He turned and put both hands on the wall behind you, and you closed your eyes, letting your head fall as you arched your back, bumping your chest against Steve’s. After a moment, you opened your eyes, staring into Steve’s. His eyes narrowed the slightest bit and you nodded, your eyes closing again when he dipped his head and kissed your lips.
You wrapped your arms around him when he lifted you in his arms, tunneling your fingers through his hair as he carried you to the bed. He laid you down, letting his hands slowly drift down your sides until he was at your hips. Your exhale was shaky when he dipped to press his lips against the center of your chest, and you closed your eyes as you felt his lips against your skin as he kissed his way down your body. You jolted when you felt his fingers slide under the waistband of your panties, and you lifted your hips to help him take them off.
“You okay?”
You nodded, and Steve spoke softly as he took hold of your ankle, silently urging you to bend your knee.
“Sweetheart?” “I’m okay.” “You’d tell me if you weren’t?”
You nodded again, taking the hand Steve reached towards you, lacing your fingers with his.
“This okay?” “Yes.”
You kept a tight hold of his hand, eyes flying open as a shocked gasp left you when his tongue slipped through your folds. He did it again, only for you to whimper and whisper an oh my god. He lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder, his nose nudging your clit as he continued his ministrations with his tongue. He tugged on your hand, pulling it down to rest in his hair, his hand moving to gently grasp your breast.
“Steve.”
You moaned when he lifted his head, shivering at the feel of his warm breath against your damp skin.
“I’m here, baby.”
You nodded, and he gave an almost-silent chuckle when you pushed his head back between your legs. You gasped when you felt his tongue again, and the sweetest moan of his name escaped your throat. Your hand tightened in his hair and Steve increased his efforts. You shook your head, groans and barely coherent semblances of his name leaving your lips. You gave a sob when Steve gently pushed one finger into you, and as his fingertip brushed across a spot that made your blood turn to fire in your veins, you felt every muscle in your body tighten painfully for a split second. Then, bliss filled your veins and encased every nerve ending. Steve closed his eyes as your breathy chants of his name warmed his heart, and when your body collapsed on the bed, he gently moved to hover over you.
Your eyes were wide as you stared into his, your hand shaking so badly as you lifted it to his cheek you were afraid you might slap him. Steve covered your hand with his, turning his head to place a kiss to the center of your palm and you shook your head.
“You …” “It’s okay. Just breathe.”
You shook your head, pressing your palm more firmly against his cheek.
“I never … you …”
Steve smiled softly as he moved a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, his fingertips gently caressing your face. You closed your eyes and took in a shaky breath, letting it out slowly, opening your eyes to stare into his.
“You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like that.”
Steve’s eyes widened, one eyebrow raising. You felt your cheeks heat, but you shook your head, taking hold of his face and bringing it down until you could kiss his lips. Steve settled his body on top of yours and you moaned into his mouth, letting your hands travel down his neck, his chest, over his wide shoulders and to his tiny waist. You moved your hips, smiling when Steve groaned.
“Baby—“ “I’m okay.” “We don’t have to—“ “I know.”
You leaned up to kiss him again, speaking softly against his lips.
“I want to.” “Don’t do this just because you think I want it.”
You shook your head, and he sighed.
“I don’t want you to think I’m only making love to you because you might be going away tomorrow.”
You smiled, moving your hands back to hold his face. Steve closed his eyes, reveling in your touch as his hips unintentionally rubbed against yours. You gave a quiet gasp, and he opened his eyes to see you smiling at him.
“I just want to be as close to you as I can. No matter what happens tomorrow, I want this tonight. I want you, Steve.”
He lowered his head and kissed your lips. You bent your knees and moved your legs to either side of Steve’s hips. You watched him sit up, felt the bed move as he stood to take off his underwear. He moved to kneel between your legs and caught your eye.
“You’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable?”
You nodded and Steve nodded as he reached between your legs, his thumb rubbing through your wetness. You gave a soft moan and he gave a shaky exhale.
“Steve?”
He lifted his eyes to yours and you nodded to him. He took the hint, moving to hover over you again, and you lifted up to kiss him. Your arms wove around him as the two of you kissed, and you dug your nails into his back when he started to push inside you. You broke from the kiss just to breathe, and Steve moved one hand to cradle your head. You shook your head, speaking softly.
“Wait.” “Okay.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Steve was pressing gentle kisses to your cheek and forehead until you nodded. You groaned when he pushed in deeper, sobbing out a breath when he ducked his head to rest his forehead against yours.
“God, you’re so tight.” “Steve—ohgod.”
His groan mixed with yours when he bottomed out, and he lifted his head to see your wide eyes staring back at him. He bent to kiss your lips, just soaking in the warmth and the feel of you. He groaned when you clenched around him, shaking his head.
“You okay?” “Move. Please, move.”
He did as you asked, your drawn-out moan radiating through him. He grabbed one of your hands and pushed it to the bed beside your head, his hand moving down your arm until his palm was flush with, fingers twined with yours. He groaned again, shaking his head as your hips worked to meet his.
“God, I missed you. I need you.” “Steve.” “Stay with me.”
Tears came to your eyes as you looped your arm around his neck, pulling yourself up to kiss him. Your head fell back when Steve increased his thrusts, your next orgasm taking you by surprise as much as the first one had. Steve groaned as you clenched around him so tightly he could barely move, and he buried his face in your hair as you gasped and breathed his name. Steve’s drawn-out groan seemed to rattle up from deep in his chest, his hips stilling as he reached his peak.
Steve lifted his head from your shoulder, gently pressing his lips to your skin before shifting to look at your face. You were staring up at the ceiling, chest heaving with every breath you took.
“Sweetheart?”
You didn’t answer him, and Steve swallowed as he moved into your line of sight.
“Y/N, talk to me. Please.”
God, he hatedhimself right then. He knew you weren’t ready for something as big as this. He pulled out as gently as he could, preparing to find his phone and call Peggy to see if she could bring you back when your hands quickly went to his back, stilling his movements.
“Hey, baby. Y/N?”
You met his eyes, your own full of tears. Steve’s heart fell and you shook your head, one hand moving to cup his face.
“I don’t want to go to jail.” “Sweetheart.” “I want to stay here with you.” “I know.”
You shook your head, a sob escaping your throat as tears slid down your cheeks. Steve lowered his body back onto yours, closing his eyes when you wrapped your arms around him.
“I’m so scared.” “I know, baby. I know.”
You cried into his shoulder as he held you, his soft murmurs barely registering with you. When your sobs died down some, Steve spoke softly into your ear.
“We’ll take those documents tomorrow and we’ll go. Just you and me. We’ll be okay, I promise.” “Steve.” “Shh. I got you. I’ll take care of you. Didn’t I tell you that? Haven’t I shown you that I won’t let anything bad happen to you?”
You whimpered as he closed his eyes, lips at your ear as he whispered the next words.
“Can’t you see how much I love you?”
You gasped at the words, pushing him gently until there was space between you to look up at his face. His hand moved to cup your cheek and he shook his head.
“Don’t say it back until you mean it. I don’t care how long that takes.” “I’m sorry.” “Shh, no. It’s okay. After everything you’ve been through, I get it. I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.”
He ducked his head to kiss your cheek before putting his face in your hair. One of your hands shook as you tunneled your fingers through his hair.
“Steve—“ “Don’t say anything.”
You gave a soft whimper and he pulled away, moving off of you, laying on the bed beside you. You closed your eyes and went to roll away from him, but Steve gathered you in his arms, pulling your back against his chest, curling his body around yours. You kept your eyes closed, one hand lifting to grip his wrist.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart. Just rest.”
You nodded, then let go of him, pushing gently until he let you go. You rolled onto your side facing him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Steve pulled you closer, one of his thighs pushing between your legs until you wrapped your leg around his hip.
“I’m here. I’ve got you.”
He pressed his lips to your forehead, one hand moving to rest against the small of your back.
“Sleep, beautiful.”
You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder, sleep overtaking you before you knew it.
Your body was too hot, your skin feeling too tight when you woke in the middle of the night. You found yourself staring at Steve’s sleeping face, but you felt smothered, and you somehow managed to slither out of his hold without waking him up. He grumbled incoherent words, rolling into his stomach and shoving his arms under his pillow. You couldn’t help but smile, tiptoeing into the bathroom, then grabbing his shirt from the floor and pulling it over your head as you crept from the room.
The apartment felt cold as you made your way to the kitchen, and you wished you had your (Steve’s) cardigan. You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, the cool liquid feeling like heaven on your parched throat. You took another drink, then turned to stare at the pile of documents on the counter.
You set the bottle aside, walking to pick up one of the papers. You read Kathleen Michelle Barber’s birth certificate, setting it aside. You picked up a driver’s license, staring at your face beside Kathleen’s name.
Micki. You’d liked Steve’s suggestion of calling you Micki.
You stared at the credit card with the smooth black face, shaking your head before pushing it aside. You picked up another document, staring down at the marriage license. Kathleen Michelle and Andrew Stephen, joined in matrimony on August third. You’d always thought you’d have a spring wedding, or maybe one deep in winter. Your bridesmaids would have stark red dresses that stood out against the snow.
You shook your head, rolling your fingertips over the signatures at the bottom of the license. It looked like your handwriting, but you didn’t really understand how. You lifted your eyes to the passports and papers and cards and shakily set the marriage license back down.
It would be so easy. You and Steve could disappear without a trace, you were sure of it. But you were also sure that Alexander Pierce would spend the rest of his life looking for you, and you couldn’t spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder. You pressed a hand to your mouth, eyes darting up when you heard the commotion and the calling of your name, Steve running into the kitchen and coming to a hard stop when he saw you standing there.
“Oh, Jesus. Goddamn it.” “Steve?” “I … I thought …”
He hung his head and you went to him, laying a gentle hand between his shoulder blades.
“I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”
He grabbed your other hand, holding it tightly as you gently rubbed his back. He shook his head, moving to take you into his arms, holding you tightly. You put your forehead against his shoulder, and after a moment, he maneuvered you until he could kiss you. His hands moved to cup your face as his lips moved against yours, and your hands came to rest on his hips. Steve lifted you into his arms, carrying you back down the hall. He laid you on the bed and moved over you, your hands digging into his thick shoulders as he pushed inside you. You moaned as Steve shook his head.
“I’m sorry. I can’t—“
He groaned as you dug your nails in, raking them down his back. You met his thrusts as best you could, feeling your insides start to twist as pressure started building in your core. Steve’s lips met your own, and on a particularly hard thrust, you turned your head and gasped as ecstasy burst through your veins. Steve groaned into your ear as his warmth filled you, his lips pressing against your forehead as his hips went still.
Steve rolled onto his back beside you, chest heaving as he stared at the ceiling. Your shaky hand slid into his and he pulled your joined hands to his chest. You turned your head to look at him, and he shook his head.
“That was … Did I hurt you?” “No, I’m okay.” “You sure?”
Steve turned his head to look at you and you smiled.
“I am more than okay, I promise.”
He shook his head.
“I didn’t mean to be so rough. I just … I woke up and you weren’t here and I … I panicked.”
You slid closer to him, leaning over him this time.
“I promise you, I’m not going to sneak out. I won’t leave without saying goodbye.”
Steve nodded, closing his eyes when you bent and kissed his lips. He lifted the hand not holding yours and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. You laid down beside him, putting your head on his chest, the steady thrum of his heart lulling you back to sleep.
You were wrapped in a towel, gently dragging a comb through your wet hair. Steve was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. You purposefully weren’t looking at him, and after a few silent minutes, Steve sighed.
“You’re not going to use the papers, are you?”
You slid the comb through your untangled hair and looked into the mirror, meeting his eyes. You set the comb on the counter, then turned to face him.
“I’m not going to run, Steve. I can’t spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Steve nodded, looking down at his feet.
“I’m sorry.”
Steve closed his eyes, pushing off from the door to kneel in front of you.
“Don’t be sorry. I didn’t think you’d go for it, if I’m being honest. I just … I just want to make sure you’re okay and keep you from going to prison for something you didn’t do.” “You did your best to make the jury see that, honey.”
You cupped his bearded cheeks in your hands and he closed his eyes.
“It’s going to be okay, Steve. Even if they find me guilty—“ “The only way it’ll be okay is if you’re back in my bed tonight where you belong.”
You blinked as his sapphire eyes stared into yours, and he leaned forward to kiss you before standing to his feet. Your arms fell back by your sides as Steve went to the sink to brush his teeth.
Not for the first time that morning, you stood on shaky legs and silently prayed that everything would be okay by the end of the day.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” “We have, your honor.”
You stood at Steve’s gentle nod, glancing back to see Bucky and Peggy with grim smiles on their faces. You turned your attention to the jury and fought to keep your knees from giving out. Steve stood as close to you as he could without outright touching you, the fabric of his suit jacket brushing against your arm. You blinked and gave a shaky exhale as Pierce began to speak.
“In the charge of Murder in the first degree, how do you find?”
The foreman of the jury answered.
“We the jury find the defendant …”
You took in a breath and held it.
“Not guilty.”
You blinked, eyes darting from one jury member to the next. Some sat stoically, some refused to meet your eyes, but a couple gave you a nod or a reassuring smile. You lifted your eyes to see Steve smiling at you, and he bent to hug you. You closed your eyes as his arms came around you and you almost melted into his warmth.
“I told you so.”
You smiled, but it quickly left your face as Pierce spoke again.
“Well… members of the jury, the court thanks you for your service. However …”
Steve let you go, murmuring “no” under his breath. You looked to Bucky, whose face was like stone, worry evident all over Peggy’s features. Pierce had a smile on his face as he spoke again.
“I’m invoking a verdict notwithstanding and finding the defendant guilty.”
The courtroom seemed to erupt then. Murmurs and whispers rose from the audience, the jury, and Steve’s voice could be heard over all of them.
“You can’t do that! She hasn’t done anything wrong!”
Steve began spouting terms you weren’t sure of, cases that came before yours and the precedents they put in place. Pierce was yelling back, something about contempt of court, and you looked across the room to the table on the other side, seeing Fury and Natasha sitting calmly and quietly.
Toocalmly for attorneys who had just lost an important case.
“Psst. Hey.”
You turned your head to see Tony kneeling behind your chair.
“Steve’s about a second and a half away from approaching the bench and beating the shit out of Pierce himself. When he moves, Bucky will cause a commotion and you and I can sneak out the back.”
You blinked and Tony grabbed your knee, squeezing once.
“This is your last chance, kid.”
You shook your head.
“I’m not going to run.”
Your head shot to Fury’s table when a loud noise was heard. Fury brushed his hands off, the heavy textbook he’d just dropped on the table in front of him. Pierce raised an eyebrow, but Fury just brushed his hands over the front of his suit jacket.
“The people do not agree with your verdict, your honor.” “We’ll make a note of that, counselor. In the meantime—“ “No, actually, I have a question for you.”
The room was silent as Fury turned to Natasha, as she handed him a piece of paper that he carried to the bench.
“Judge Pierce, do you recognize this?”
Pierce put his glasses on his nose, eyebrows raising as he read the paper.
“Fury, what the hell is this?” “If that doesn’t jog your memory, perhaps this will. Can you read this for the court, sir?”
Pierce yanked the next piece of paper from Fury’s hands, scanning it before lifting his eyes to Fury.
“Are you out of your mind? This is illegal!” “Actually, sir, this warrant gave us permission for it.”
Natasha stood this time, heels clicking on the floor as she carried the warrant to the bench. Pierce shook his head, refusing to take the paper from her hand.
“This is a witch hunt!” “And you know what this little ‘witch hunt’ discovered?”
Your eyes were locked on Fury as he turned from the bench, as Natasha walked back to sit at their table.
“Multiple withdrawals from your account in the Caymans. ‘Anonymous’ deposits to an account that, after a few false leads and fake accounts, we discovered is used notoriously for … shall we call them mercenaries?”
Fury turned to Natasha, who shrugged her shoulders.
“Guns for hire?”
Fury mirrored her movements, lifting his shoulders and letting them fall as he nodded.
“Guns for hire who, when nudged ever so slightly…”
Fury turned to face the judge.
“Sang like a bird when asked about you.”
Your eyes widened as you looked to Steve, who was staring at Fury with his mouth open slightly.
“Oh, son of a bitch.”
You glanced behind you at Bucky’s whispered statement to see him with a hand covering his mouth. He leaned to whisper to Peggy and you watched her dark eyes widen. Natasha cleared her throat as she stood again.
“These payments were for a high-priority job, one that came with danger due to the high-profile target. One Brock Rumlow.”
Pierce shook his head, a sneer on his face.
“And you think a couple payments from an alleged account of mine proves that I set a hit on Brock? He was like a son to me!”
Pierce shook his head as Natasha nodded.
“See, that’s what we thought, too. Until the hitmen denied ever finishing the job.”
Pierce nodded, his sneer turning to a smug smile. Fury cleared his throat then.
“No. Ultimately, theydidn’t finish the job.”
You closed your eyes, bowing your head.
“No, sir. That was you.”
Your head popped up as Pierce laughed, shaking his head.
“Oh, Nick. I haven’t been on the receiving end of a good prank in a long time. Touché, son. Good job.”
Fury smiled, something you weren’t sure you’d ever seen.
“This isn’t a prank, sir. You were the one who killed Brock Rumlow.” “And you’re sure of this how?” “Because of the eyewitness testimony of an old friend.”
The doors to the court opened and you turned to see the woman you once considered your best friend, the woman your husband had cheated on you with. Her hair was shorter, platinum blonde instead of the dark brown you were used to. She met your eyes for a split second before Maria Hill pointed to the judge.
“That’s him. He’s the one who killed Brock.”
Pierce shook his head, mouth opening, but Maria cut him off.
“I let him in the door, told him Brock was upstairs. Next thing I knew, he was running down the stairs with blood soaking his clothes. He told me to call Y/N, get her there as quickly as I could or he’d kill me. He’s been paying me to stay away and keep my mouth shut.”
You looked to Pierce, then back to Maria, who was looking at you with sorrow in her eyes.
“I can’t let him punish you anymore. I’m so sorry.”
You looked back to Pierce, saw the sneer on his face and the anger in his eyes. You’d only seen that much hatred on Brock’s face before. You glanced over your shoulder to see Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he watched Pierce. The buzz in the room only seem to grow louder, reporters standing to their feet as they yelled questions to Maria and the judge. Steve stood and faced Fury and Natasha, and you stood to lay a hand on his back. You couldn’t take your eyes off Alexander Pierce.
“What?”
You didn’t answer him, your eyes glued to Pierce as you watched his lips curl in a sneer, his chest rising and falling with the quick breaths he was taking.
“Y/N, what? What is it?”
Steve turned to you, taking your hands. You shook your head, watching Pierce finally take his eyes from you, his eyes darting around the room before landing on the bailiff beside him. You squeezed Steve’s hands as he spoke again.
“Y/N, talk to me. What is it?”
You couldn’t get the words out, lips trembling as you watched Pierce leap from his seat, yanking the bailiff towards him then pushing him away. Your eyes widened as you were finally able to speak one word.
“Gun!”
Steve’s head jerked to Pierce, seeing him level the gun he’d taken from the bailiff and point it towards you. Steve grabbed you and pulled you close, turning his back to Pierce and pushing you down to the ground, the courtroom silent again until a shot rang out.
Okay, here is my current WIP, which is the 7th chapter of Beauty and the Beast. So here’s a snippet for y’all. I still have sooo much to finish in this chapter, and then this story, but I have been able to work on it a bit here and there, so that’s a step in the right direction at least! Here’s to hoping I can get this chapter done and posted soon!
(Please ignore any mistakes in this, I haven’t even attempted to edit or proof it yet!)
* * *
“Are you endeavouring to break every damn item in my house or?” He growls, and for once you can hear that he is clearly frustrated. So, it looks like he can, in fact, show a few basic emotions after all, though you kinda wish he hadn’t shown any at all. You’d like to go back to aloof and disinterested beast-man right about now, as odd as that is to want. At least if he was aloof, you’d know he wasn’t entirely enraged. Because frustrated is only a step below angry, which is then only a step below pissed the fuck off. And that’s two, too many steps close to pissed the fuck off for your comfort, ornerves.
“I-I apologize, Sir,” you quickly stutter out, as sincerely as you can while the nerves and embarrassment of not only being caught dancing around like a fool, but also having broken one of his belongings directly in front of him, run wild throughout your body. “You,” you trail off not wanting to continue on with ‘startled me’, as you realized those next words would have most likely sounded like you trying to pin the blame on him. And you very much did not want to do that. At least not to his face.
“I,what?” He questions lowly, deadly, clearly trying to prompt you into inserting your own foot in your damn mouth. And ha! Joke’s on you, assface! Because while you may not be the brightest bulb in the box, you do still have a few functioning brain cells left. At least enough to know finishing that sentence at any length will not end well for you.
“Are home,” you fill in awkwardly instead, and far too loudly at that. But rather than just leaving it there, you stupidly continue on, “Welcome home, Sir. I hope your trip was fruitful.” Ugh. Fruitful? You imbecile.
“It was,” he grunts, “until I returned home to witnessed you using a 3 million dollar vase as a fake microphone.” He pauses, probably to allow you a moment to let what he just said sink in. And once it does, you gasp quietly, because—3 million fucking dollars?! Why the hell would anyone leave a 3 million dollar freaking vase just laying around where idiots—you, you’re the idiot—could easily shatter it by accident!? “A vase you then promptly destroyed,” he adds in gruffly, as if you hadn’t already fucking realized this. And freaking thanks for that one, Tips! Uuuugh.
* * *
Tagging: WHOEVER WANTS TO DO THIS, JUST DOOO IT! And say I tagged you, I’ll pretend like I did and no one will be the wiser! ♀️
Here’s the first part of The Lone Wolf. I hope this is clearing up some unanswered questions, in the next few will be more flashbacks, which will explain everything.
I hope you enjoyed reading it.
This series was brought to you because someone who (thank God) doesn’t follow me on Tumblr, wanted me to write something nicefor him, but I also wanted to post something here, so you guys are getting a bit cleaner version.
I hope you’ll like it!!
————————————-
Summary: The Reader hadn’t seen nor heard from him in about five years. Her life is getting back on track (sure, she might be playing the role of fiance for her gay friend, but everything else is going great). She’s famous all across the world for being the only person to meet The Lone Wolf in his uniform, and live to tell the tale. There was so many people asking her about him, but she never said a word. She moved on, but the past seems to want to bite her in the ass.
Warnings for this part: Implied sex, edging, a bit of SMUT (fingering), lying, mentions of dominant!Bucky, some Language
Sometimes I wish I knew what had happened to him. I looked back at the building of the company, before continuing my walk toward the café I often frequented, Coffee Bean. Sitting down, I gave them the order, which had put me into that situation with him in the first place - Hot Chocolate with Marshmallows, chocolate crumbs and coconut, the drink I haven’t had in five years, not since May 2020.
That might not have been the warmest month I had encountered in my years, but it came with a lot of memories. Pleasant and unpleasant ones, but they are still some of the most memorable moments of my life.
–
Rough hands gripping me tightly by the waist from behind, pulling me close enough so that I can feel a hard, throbbing length against my ass.
–
Lips attacking my neck and leaving trails of hickeys. I couldn’t tell whether they were made out of possessive jealousy, or as a way to show me he actually cared about me, but they were there, dozens of hickeys all over my body…
–
His hand grabbing me by the throat, before pulling me in for a rough kiss, which left me breathless and weak in the knees…
–
“Honey, are you okay?”
“Huh?” I looked away from the window, as I was pulled out of my thoughts. The bright, blue, eyes of my ‘fiancé’ were in front of me. Steve and I have only been 'engaged* for two weeks, due to him needing a fake fiancé, because he didn’t have enough courage to tell his parents he’s actually gay. He was gorgeous, blonde, blue eyed, well-built and over six feet tall. Every girl’s wet dream, but not mine. “Oh, hey, love! I’m sorry I was thinking.”
“I could see that, honey.” He sipped on his coffee. How long had he been here? “I’ve been trying to grab your attention for the past 10 minutes.” He grumbled out, answering the question I didn’t even ask, while grinding his teeth. “A penny for your thoughts, darling?”
“It’s nothing, really. I was only remembering some things from my past.”
“Good or bad?”
“Both.” I said with finality in my voice, making it known that I don’t want to talk about that subject anymore.
“So it is true.”
“What are you talking about?”
“There was something between you and the lone wolf.” His voice was filled with some sort of venom, but it was, weirdly enough, calm, although, if you payed enough attention, you could notice that the anger was radiating off him in waves, his eyebrows were furrowed, and fists clenched idly at his side. I didn’t even know he knew of him. Most of the wolrd didn’t really care much about the people from Balkans, although, him being a famous, mysterious war criminal might have had something to do with it…
“I was someone he kidnapped once.”
“Is that all?”
“He also tortured me.” I told him the official story. No need to tell him the truth about the aforementioned torture, but his heated gaze didn’t falter.
Why does it seem like he knows something? He can’t know. No one can. It was all between me and him, and he disappeared off the face of the Earth five years ago.
He kept the staring game for a few moments, before his stare softened. “If you say so.”
“I do.” I took another sip of my Hot Chocolate, before I let out a sorrowful laugh. “I had this same drink a few hours before he took me five years ago, you know? I was afraid to drink it again. I thought it was some sort of a bad thing, but I got over it.” I always had this same drink, when I was talking to him, whether it was over the phone, or over a video-call, in person… He knew me like an open book. Since he hasn’t been around in five years, If he were alive, he would have contacted me by now. So I thought it was the time to move on and have it again. It hadn’t disappointed. “Damn, it tastes better than I remember.”
He hm-ed, before nodding for me to continue. His eyes were, somehow haunted. Which made me think something was extremely wrong, but this was Steve. Friendly-neighbourhood gay-man who didn’t want his parents to know he was gay, so he faked his engagement to me after two months of being my friendly gay best neighbour, and five years of being my (only) gay-best friend ….
“I had this one friend, Bucky. We had been friends, since my third/fourth year of high school, and I had been in love with him ever since I had seen. My friend needed my help. Apparently, he had been in trouble at the time.”
“What did he do?” He asked, deep in thought.His blue eyes deep in thought.
“I don’t know. I was talking to him on the phone, and then, someone had grabbed me, there was a cloth in my face. I had breathed in and everything went black. When I woke up, I was in my Grandfather’s abandoned house in our old village. Most of the old people have been sent to homes, and nobody lives there. My plan was to stay there for two weeks, alone, surrounded by acres of woods. The only person, other than my family, who knew where it was, was my best friend, Bucky. So, I assumed he allowed someone to kidnap me and have their way with me. I never saw a face, and never heard their voice, but I’ve heard the groans they made while they violated my body.” Lie, lie, lie and lie. He would never put me in any type of danger like that. Sure, he had, indeed kidnapped me, but he knew I had one of those fantasies when I was younger.
“Why are you saying they?”
“Because I’m uncertain whether it was a man or a woman. Yes, Steve, there is a possibility that The Lone Wolf is a woman, as well.” No there isn’t, but there’s no need for him to know that.
“I never even thought of that possibility…” He mumbled, seemingly mind blown, but I could tell he didn’t believe me. “So, that friend of yours…”
“I don’t like your tone. He was only my friend then, we hooked up a few times before that, though, three years after we’ve met.”
“So, your then-friend, betrayed you.”
“Yes. He left me with an animalistic person whose only purpose in life was to hide, and torture me.”
“How exactly did he torture you?”
“Any way you could possibly imagine, only twenty times worse…” That was true. He tortured me in any sexual way he could. From spanking, to bondage, through whipping and leaving hickeys all the way to edging me ten times before finally letting me cum, screaming for him in places where only animals could hear me, biting…If I mentioned any other man, I would get punished.
“How do you feel about The Lone Wolf?”
“I hate him so much.” For leaving me a hot mess, and after two wonderfully-spent weeks, disappearing into thin air. He only wanted to use me for sex just like all those times before…I loved him, through everything, but he never cared. He never loved me and now, five years later, I finally understood that.
“You really hate him so much?” His gaze was so intense, it made me remember a moment with Bucky.
—-
“I hate you, Sarge.” I cried, which was understandable since it was the sixth time he edged me so far. And I wanted to cum so badly. “Please, please, please, allow me to cum.”
“You hate me?” He asked, before pushing his finger into my slit once again and picking up the pace. Every word he said was slowly rolling off his tongue, his blue eyes were dark with lust, and there was a mischievous glint in them. “Why are you so wet, then, doll?”
“Please, please, please, make me cum”
“I asked you two questions, doll. If you answer them, I’ll think about it.”
“Fine, Sarge, I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could ever hate you and I’m wet because you make me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling for anyone.”
“And what are those things?” He asked, before licking my breast and putting another finger in, while his other hand played with my clit.
“I…” I was about to answer before the sensation I felt stopped me. “Please, Sarge…”
“You’re about to cum already?” He asked.
“N…”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Yes, Sarge. Now please…” I whined, he was picking up the pace, and I was surprised he had actually listened to me. I was right there. Only one push and I’d be getting the sensation I wanted to feel since he had started this…
“No…” I whined, as I felt him pull his finger out.
“Yes.” He said, kissing me roughly, before pulling me onto my wobbly feet. I couldn’t stand properly due to our…activities. He let out a self-satisfied laugh, before throwing me over his shoulder. “I’m going to help you take a shower.”
“I hate you…”
“I thought you could never hate me, doll.” I slapped him across his very lovely ass. He let out another, hearty laugh, before I felt a sharp pinch on my ass.
“You bit me!” I mumbled
“If you mess with the wolf, you’re bound to feel some consequences.”
—-
“I don’t know if I hate him completely. If it weren’t for him, I would have been dead, you know. He saved me.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well…” Think, think, think… “That winter, the wolves were running about the forest. We didn’t have any sheep, cows or pigs in any of the barns that year. Grandfather was in the home and Uncle couldn’t retire until the next year. So me and him were, practically, the only ones in the area at the time. It was plenty useful to have a deadly soldier there, or I would have been ripped apart by the actual wolves.” Again, a half-truth.
“So you don’t hate him?” He asked again.
“He had saved my life. I don’t think I could ever hate anyone, I think I only strongly dislike him.”
“Good. I’m so sorry about this, Y/N.” He said, his blue eyes filled with regret.
“What are you talking about, Steve?” I asked him, but his phone rang.
“Yes, buddy, you were right. She’s all yours now.“ He said, before hanging up. He gave me one, pointed look, before gesturing something. I had no idea what it meant, but I didn’t need to think about it. There was something on my mouth and my world went black. Deja-vu much?
I’m back, for now. And what’s a better way to return with than a new Bucky x Reader series?
This series was brought to you because someone who (thank God) doesn’t follow me on Tumblr, wanted me to write something nicefor him, but I also wanted to post something here, so you guys are getting a bit cleaner version.
I hope you’ll like it!!
————————————-
Summary: The Reader hadn’t seen nor heard from him in about five years. Her life is getting back on track (sure, she might be playing the role of fiance for her gay friend, but everything else is going great). She’s famous all across the globe for being the only person to meet The Lone Wolf in his uniform, and live to tell the tale. There was so many people asking her about him, but she never said a word. She moved on, but the past seems to want to bite her in the ass.
“Ma'am, could you tell us a little bit more about his relationship with you?”
“What relationship? He had kidnapped me and tortured me for two weeks. I’ve answered this question over an over and it hasn’t changed since the first time. I was kidnapped and tortured, then left alone, tied up, until my Uncle had found me. What kind of a relationship should that be put under, other than the captor-victim one, please enlighten me?” Dozens of people, mostly reporters, had been asking me the same question for five years, but I’ve never given them the true answer, I don’t think I could ever do that. Not to myself, not to my friend and fiancé (even if we were only engaged for the past two weeks as a plot for his family not to find out he’s gay), not even to him… That was the past I had been hiding from everyone. It was enough that they all knew I had something to do with him.Thank God they did not have any clue what that something really was, because it would start a whole new round of questions that I would never have the guts to answer, I could never betray him. Looking at the blurry picture of the hooded man made me remember everything I was trying so hard to delete from the hard drive that my mind is. I buried them deep inside, never caring about the fact that I knew I would still feel whatever it is that I felt for himthen, and hewould still be one of the few known war criminals of our modern age. Yet not a single one of them ever knew his name, they couldn’t even find his real face, or any data about himfor that matter. The only two things they knew about him,The Lone Wolf, as they deemed him, were the initials of his first and last name - JB, and that I was kidnapped by him on the day of hislast known crime.
Sometimes I wish I knew what had happened to him. I prayed to God he was still alive and kicking somewhere and that he had a great reason for being a stupid jerk, which was in character for him when it came to other people, but never when it came to me.
As I got out of the building of the company and headed toward the cafe, I could tell something was going to change today, I just didn’t have any idea what was coming… I’m Y/N Y/L/N and this is my story.
“Ma'am, could you tell us a little bit more about his relationship with you?” Dozens of people, mostly reporters, were asking the same question for ages, but I’ve never given them the honest answer, I don’t think I could ever do that. Not to myself, not to my fiancé (even if we were only engaged for the past two weeks as a plot for his family not to know he’s gay), not even to him… That was the past I had been hiding from everyone. It was enough that they knew I had something to do with him. Thank God they did not know what that something really was, because it would start a whole new round of questions. Looking at the blurry picture of the hooded man made me remember everything I was trying so hard to delete from the hard drive that my mind is. I buried them deep inside, never caring about the fact that I knew I would still feel whatever it is that I felt for himthen.And it would not change the fact thathe will always be one of the few known war criminals of our modern age. Yet no one ever knew his name. Not even hisreal face. The only thing they knew about him,The Lone Wolf, as they deemed him, were hisinitials-JBB.
