Here is one more quick Steve Rogers for the Western AU

Writing a fanfic about this AU here: Never Goodbye

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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WARNINGS:THIS IS AN AU; this is set in medieval-ish times, so outdated and F’ed up thoughts and actions towards women will occur; royalty au, forced engagement/wedding, abusive relationship, public whipping, fevers, painful wound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.

MASTERLIST

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. 

“Just breathe, baby. You’re alright.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize.”

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. 

TAGS: @rhapsody-in-flannel,@iamwarrenspeace,@songforhema,@notyourtypicalrose,@beardburnsupersoldiers,@little-smurf,

merman!tony/human!pepper AU

Today we come back to Tony’s Lake and see how Tony & Pepper are doing :)

(The video Pepper is thinking of below the cut)

Spyductive, isn’t he? - Prologue

Inspired by this post

No Matter Where You Go, There You Are

“I’ve got everything figured out, but you’ve got to be the one to help.” The leader of the group looked at his friend dead in the eye.

“No.” The ex-spy said, as he rolled his eyes, not allowing his friend, and tactician, to finish this sentence.

“Come on! It won’t cost you anything!” Another one of his friends claimed.

“No!” The grumpy man’s voice radiated finality. He wasn’t going to go back.

“You’re the only one of us who isn’t exactly known.” The redheaded woman said.

“I already said no! Now leave me alone.” The bite in his words didn’t go unnoticed by the others.

“Just hear him out!” His best friend begged, his eyes pleading.

“Fine. You’ve got thirty seconds.”

“28, a librarian. 3 cats, 3 dogs. From a rich family, had a hard childhood, hates the family. Single for 28 years of her life. Was in live once, when she was a kid. She’s our only way in. You’re the only one whose face isn’t plastered up on billboards, you’re the only one who can seduce her. ”

“What’s her name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N” He took the picture into his hands, looking at her. Her eyes seemed somewhat familiar to him. He didn’t know what could be familiar. She is just an ordinary librarian after all.

“Wait, where are we trying to get in this time, Stark?”

“The CIA.”

“Why?” He was suspicious. A CIA librarian is still just a librarian. He knew they are planning something, and that, since they desperately wanted him to participate, it was something big. Why would his friends, a bunch of scientists, actors, and rich kids, who have been leading the secret life of spies and criminals for ages, be up for THIS?

“There are some…unresolved businesses between me and them.”

“From your early hacking days?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll help.” He sighed.

“Welcome back, Spy Barnes!”

“Yeah. I’m back.”

——-

A/N: I’ve got exams until Friday, as soon as that passes, I’m posting as much as I can. I had to write it, since no one else did

Inspired by @tygermama ’s post

@lostinthoughtsandfeelings here it is. Hope you’ll like it

Title:  “Elephant in the Room”

Prompt:   1. “I need you.”

Fandom:  Marvel Cinematic Universe/Multiverse (Clint/Tasha AU)

Rating:   Teen

Warnings/Tags:   Language!

Notes:   Real life sucks. But hey… it got done.

Something of a follow-on to my MCU Ladies Fanwork Exchange piece, “By Example,” written in 2016… what seems like a century ago. In it, Tasha is wounded during exfil, following an operation that wasn’t quite as expected. The original story focusses on Maria Hill/Steve Rogers, but this snippet shifts the focus back to our favorite SHIELD spies. Decidedly AU at this point, and written with the idea that maybe the multiverse can fix it.

Posted without beta, and after monthswithout writing fic; essays and non-fiction don’t flex quite the same muscles. Apologies if it’s a bit rough around the edges.

*****

“I need you.”

Natasha Romanov heard the strained whisper, felt the familiar presence somewhere off to her right.  She felt weightless, floating in darkness, yet somehow aware of the coarse texture of the medical ward sheets beneath her fingers. To her left, her heartbeat echoed through the telemetry monitor, the steady rhythm fluttering slightly. Exhaustion, pain, and no small amount of medication weighed heavily on her, pressing her back into the thin mattress, discouraging any attempt to move, to acknowledge the whisper at her right.

“I know we don’t…talk… about stuff like this, but…” There was the rustle of clothes, and, even in her limbo state, Tasha could almost see Clint Barton rub his hand over his face. His voice was quiet, low, reflective, barely audible over the hiss of the oxygen. “We’re the normal ones – no armor, no invulnerability, no super strength – and we just go charging in. We don’t stop, don’t think too hard about what we’re getting into; we just do. ‘Cause it needs to be done, and it’s what we’ve always done. But now…”

He paused, taking a breath and forcing it out in an audible exhale. “When you climbed back into the ‘jet today, I felt that good ol’ adrenaline rush: Job well done; world saved – Hell, maybe even the galaxy! I was looking forward to beer and pizza back at base, trading fish tales with Maria and Cap and, well, whoever else. But now, Tash, I’m sitting here, watching you breathe, and I… realize there’s a lot we don’t say that maybe we should.

“I need you,” he continued. “I need you in my life. Not just because you’ve saved my ass more times than I can count – though that’s a damn good side benefit – but you’re my best friend. My partner in crime. We get into so much shit, and we just… understand how it affects us.”

Tasha again heard him shift, his leather jacket squeaking slightly. She imagined him wedged between the wooden arms of the too-narrow bedside chair, leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. His chin was down, wide eyes lifted to study her face. There was a long moment of silence, and she could almost feel his struggle with his words and his voice. He wasn’t, as he frequently pointed out, known for his eloquence.

“Fuck.” Clint snorted, gave a sarcastic laugh. “Why is this so fucking hard to say?”

There was another heavy sigh, the soft brush of his hand over his hair. His voice shifted to a low rumble as he tried a different tack. “Had a talk with Cap a little while ago – you prob’ly heard him come in,” he said. “Stark told him Maria was in the medbay, and he came all barreling down here, thinking she was on her last breath.” Another dark chuckle. “Seems our favorite meat popsicle has a bit of a thing for the boss. Hearing she might not make it made him recalculate a few things and… well, let’s just say they’re going out for coffee later this week.”

“The whole thing got me thinkin’ I don’t wanna wait till it’s too late, Tash,” he said. “You’re gonna be good – Doc Cho said as much. But watching you collapse, catching you before you fell…” The marksman drew a sharp breath. “…and then talking to Cap, it made me realize I don’t wanna quit running into the line of fire, but I damn sure want you to know how much I care – fuck, how much I love you – ‘cause, in the end, maybe one of us doesn’t make it home, and I don’t want there to be any question.”

Drawing a deep breath, Tasha struggled against the heavy weight of unconsciousness. She forced her fingers to move, followed by her toes and lips. Pain gripped her side, crawling across her rib cage and back as she emerged into the dimmed lighting of the room. Her heartrate fluttered in response, echoed in the high-pitched beep of the monitor. When she finally opened her eyes, she found familiar blue-green depths watching her, glassy and sparkling at the same time.

His voice was soft, gentle, and warm as he greeted her. “Hey.”

Still feeling the weight of the medicines, of the fatigue, of the need to sleep while her body repaired itself, Tasha blinked sluggishly, frustrated with the lack of cooperation from her eyelids as she fought to stay awake. “Hey,” she whispered in response. Relief and affection filtered into his gaze, emotions she allowed to reflect in her own. Abruptly, however, his attention dropped to his palm. Tasha frowned, confused for the instant it took to follow the shift. Then recognition settled: A small, silver arrow pendant and chain lay in the palm of his hand. Her necklace – the one he had given her. It had apparently broken in the fight and fallen off confusion of the extraction.

She licked her lips, drawing her attention up toward the mass of unruly hair atop his head. Her voice was groggy, rough as she spoke. “There’s no question, you know.”

He raised his head and looked up at her. The corner of his mouth twitched upward into a rueful smile even as a rosy tint crept over his cheeks. “So you heard everything.”

“Unconscious, not dead,” she replied. Her lips twitched. “One of the things about sharing a brain… we already know how wefeel.”

“Even when we’re in denial?”

Tasha chuckled, though she immediately regretted it. “’Specially then.”

A long moment of silence followed as Clint swept his rueful and affectionate gaze over her features. Swallowing, he reached his empty hand through the railing and, pushing back the scratchy sheet and thermal blanket, clasped her own. It was warm against her chilled skin, the callouses on his palms and fingers as comforting as they were familiar. A somber tone settled over his features. “I’m done with denial,” he said. “I… can’t take it back, and, well, I don’t think I want to. Love isn’t just for kids, Tash.”

Taking a deep breath, Tasha then swallowed back the lump in her throat. She forced a smile, a teasing one, though she knew he would see through it. “That’s a heavy word, Clint.”

“I know,” he conceded. His lips thinned. “I think we both know what it really means, why we always seem to avoid it.” His gaze dropped back to the necklace. “Lots of rumors about us. Those I don’t really care about; let ‘em wonder. But… I’m in this for the long haul, Tash.”

Warmth flooded her, creeping up her neck and sweeping over her cheeks. She arched a red brow. “…’till death do us part’?” Clint nodded. Sleep tugged at her once again, and she grimaced. There was a lot more to talk about, but it seemed all else was going to have to wait. The grimace gave way to a soft, lopsided grin. Her speech was starting to slur, despite her best intentions. “If I go first, I’m haunting your ass, Barton.”

Giving a laugh, Clint pushed forward. His lips gently brushed hers, hand offering an affectionate squeeze. “Wouldn’t expect any less,” he murmured. “And you know I’d return the favor. Now… I’ll get your necklace fixed while you get some rest.”

“Not because you told me, but because I don’t seem to have a choice in the matter,” Tasha replied. She allowed the lopsided grin to widen. “Oh, hey… tell Steve thanks. Then give him Hell.”

He laughed softly, and his lips curved into his own mischievous grin. “Already on the agenda.” With one final squeeze of her hand, he dropped a kiss to her temple. He slipped from the room just as sleep reclaimed her.

Reading Day

Part 1 to The Will and The Way — Series masterlist can be found here

Summary: and so the story begins…

Pairing: OC x Thor x Loki (love triangle) (not really in this chapter yet)

Warnings: None

Despite the early hour, Asgard was far from quiet. In fact, the entire city was buzzing with an odd mix of excitement and mourning. King Odin had passed many months ago, but the love for him among his people was strong as ever. 

Still, today was a day of great importance. Asgard had been without a proper leader for far too long, the people were ready for the change that was certain to come this morning. Odin had picked up on the habits of Midgardians, and he’d been wise enough to write out what they called a will, ensuring his final wishes were set in stone, unable to be changed at the whim of any one.

He had even had an enchantress come and mark the document with a seal, a binding of its words that could not be tarnished, nor tainted by anything other than her own power.

While some citizens found this practice odd, others did not question it, given Prince Loki’s habit of slipping through the cracks and making choices for the throne on his own. To them, this was a security blanket. To him, it was a massive brick wall in the way.

“Astrid! Wake up! It is time for the royal will to be read, we must hurry.” The young girls roommate urged, pulling her out of bed by her arm, earning loud grumbles from under the covers.

“We are both a part of the royal staff, if we do not show, you know someone will scold us!” The other girl says, begging for her friend to awaken.

“No one will notice our absence. But if you are so worried of such an unlikely occurrence, go on without me.” The covered girl orders, her voice groggy with sleep. For a palace maid, Astrid had never been one for mornings. She preferred nights, where she could watch the stars in peace.

Finally, after a beat of silence, she groaned in what sounded like agony and literally rolled out of the bed, her fiery reddish hair emerging from the blanket oasis she’d been in seconds before.

“Go, go. I will just get dressed and join you.” She insists, her full lips curling into a grin as her friend hesitantly runs off to join the mornings preparations. From what they’d both been told, there would be a grand ball in the name of whichever of the princes “won” everything.

For Astrid, the competition between the two was pointless and frivolous. There were more important issues in the world than who got to call themself king. It should matter more which of them would rule Asgard with a steady and fair hand, not which looked better with a crown and a throne.

To her, the will was merely a reminder of the Kings dramatics with his sons, along with the competitive nature the two of them shared with each other.

“Besides, Prince Thor is the one with the advantage. He always had Odin’s favor really.” She thought to herself as she tied her hair back into a twist, her daily hairstyle of choice.

The only royal Astrid had ever really taken a liking to was Frigga. She had been one of the maids who spent most of their time in her wing of the castle, and she had always been a friendly, kind woman to the staff. There were even a few times that the Queen had offered Astrid and her friends favors, small things to make their jobs easier or to make their free time more enjoyable.

Astrid could remember a handful of times where Frigga had walked through the gardens with her, just to chat with someone outside her circle. Though she was never one of her ladies maids, Astrid might as well have been. The two of them were much closer than she remembered any of the other staff being with anyone, since she hardly counted those that the princes (mostly Thor) schmoozed with or seduced to be “close” to them.

In fact, Astrid had been in the room when Queen Frigga was murdered and she carried that memory with her everyday, every time she walked into the room that she had perished in. Honestly, she was surprised the king continued to use the space, but she knew better than to say anything about it.

As she looked over her plain appearance in the mirror, Astrid wondered what could possibly have the whole kingdom in such a frenzy over papers that no doubt held nothing but Thors name.

She ran down the hallway, worried about being late now that that realization had finally hit and she started a sort of jog, rounding a corner and nearly slamming directly into another.

“Oh! By the norns, I am sorry your highnesses. I should not be running in a palace, it is rude.” She scolds herself, her freckled cheeks going a light pink.

“No apologies necessary, we run through the palace all the time, it is the only way to get around in manageable time.” Thor states with an easy smile, and Astrid laughed tensely, wanting to leave the situation immediately before the harsher brother spoke up and she lost her job.

Still, Loki only eyed her up and down and let out something between a scoff and a sigh before turning and continuing on his way.

Thor gives her a small wave, the swoonworthy smile still glued to his face and making her lose track of thoughts, but he finally turns away and follows his brother, bringing her senses back and sending her racing down the hall once more, her shoes pattering on the shimmering floor loudly as she goes.

——————————————–

“People of Asgard, we have gathered here today for the reading of the will of our beloved King Odin. In this will, we will learn where his assets have been placed and in turn, who the position on the thrown will be passed down to.” A royal official decrees from the balcony of the golden palace.

What seemed to be all of Asgard cheered, but the princes themselves looked less than disinterested. Loki was all but glaring down at the crowd below, staring down every last citizen, his eyes just grazing over a redheaded maid as he looked on, until his eyes reached the figure standing next to him. Thor, the figure in question, was too busy focusing on his hammer to see if it had been chipped or scratched on his way here to care what the man was saying, to which Loki rolled his eyes.

“At least pretend to pay attention brother. They may be your people soon afterall.” Loki hissed through gritted teeth, rolling his eyes again at the aloof nature of his brother.

“Lighten up Loki. It is not as though it would go to anyone else. We are both in the running, this is not a new idea.” Thor says back, leaning against the balcony, finally looking down to eye up the large crowd below. 

The crowd consisted of every citizen of Asgard, but it was still an organized group. All the regular people were in the center of it all, guards in the back in case anything dire were to happen, and palace staff at the front so they could be closest to the entrance, quick access to get in and prepare for the nights festivities to come. 

Thor’s wandering eyes landed quickly on the same redhead as Loki’s, a small grin growing at the sight of her disinterest matching his own. In a way he felt they were sort of kindred spirits, both seeing this as a boring formality. Either that, or she just didn’t care. Whichever the answer was, Thor found her bored sigh and relaxed posture amusing to say the least. 

He quickly moved his gaze from her, noticing other members of the audience for their own specific traits. Thor wasn’t the sly or mischievous brother, but he and Loki did share their keen eyes to detail, something they’d both gotten from Frigga.

Down on the ground, Astrid let out another loud sigh, waiting for it to be over. It wasn’t really that she didn’t want to see who got everything, but with the weight of the ball that came after relying heavily on the maids, she just wanted to go inside and get to work so they could all rest earlier rather than later.

The palace staff was never overworked perse, but in times of glamorous parties, they were the most imperative part of the planning in order for it to go seamlessly. Astrid took pride in the work she did, and she knew plenty other maids who could say the same.

“Enjoy the moment Astrid! It is not every day we see who the next ruler of Asgard will be! soak it in!!” Another young maid named Signe said with a giggle.

“I know I know. I just wish it was closer to the time of the ball so we could have more time to get everything ready.” She groans back, leaning against one of the many fountains surrounding the courtyard.

Her friends collectively rolled their eyes.

“We have put together much more complicated parties than this one. The worst part is hanging the banners, and I am sure some of the guards will help with that.” Her roommate Liv chimes in, making them all, including Astrid, giggle. 

Liv was the flirtiest of their bunch, and she had a knack for convincing the guards or butlers or stableboys or pretty much any man to do the harder parts for them. No one complained about it, given that the tasks usually required an annoying amount of time standing and holding things above your head for who knows how long while you waited for someone to grab it and hang it, a task no one would enjoy.

“They are supposed to protect us anyway, now they are just protecting us from overexertion too.” Liv always said with a shrug and a giggle. 

Astrid watches up above at the tall balcony, shading her eyes from the bright and warm sun. She stares as if willing the man to continue his proclamation, still waiting for the opportunity to retreat back into the castle.

As if on cue, the papers are picked back up, and he continues on.

“I, King Odin, being of sound mind and body, decree that my worldly possessions, including all monetary and physical assets be distributed as follows” He starts, stopping to turn and give Loki a glare when he scoffs at the use of Midgardian languages and practices. Loki merely shrugs as though completely innocent in response.

The announcer clears his throat and continues on. “Should my wife Frigga predecease me, A quarter of my monetary assets must be given to my eldest son Thor Odinson. Another quarter goes to my younger son Loki Odinson. The remainder shall be distributed in ways to help Asgard flourish, as well as to the heir to the throne.” He reads, and the crowd goes completely silent, confused by the lack of a named heir.

“I leave my son Thor Odinson the armour left in the royal armory, the staff I have carried as king, the Midgardian artifacts, and the power over the royal guard. He shall make an excellent leader to them all.” He states, and Thor’s face drops at the lack of a throne in his list.

“To my son Loki Odinson, I leave my gold helmet, the library of the palace, the west wing of the palace, and the throne I have sat upon to make my decrees. May he find read much wisdom while he sits in a fine chair.” Loki laughs a testy, angry sort of laugh.

The audience remains speechless, staring up in a mix of confusion and fear. Not once had any of them thought anyone other than the princes would take reign over their kingdom. Now, it looked like neither of them would.

“Finally, I leave the crown, the throne, and leadership over Asgard, as well as the palace and power over its staff to Astrid Ivarsdottir.” The man finishes, clearly having not read the will in full before now, given the look of shock on his face and the way he brought the parchment that much closer to his face.

Astrids breath hitched and her hands gripped tightly around the edges of the fountains frame. Her knuckles were going white, she was going white. Everything around her was moving in a sort of slow motion, her ears ringing loudly. 

“Who?!” Someone called out, and a chorus of others chimed in. Soon enough, the crowd was in hysterics, trying to find out who this girl was.

Meanwhile, the princes were just as anxious. Loki was livid, snarling at the man as though he’d been the one to be so cruel to the boys, and not their own father.

“How in the norns did this happen?!” He demanded, looking quite ready to strangle the poor guy.

“Loki murder is not the answer!” Thor said, pulling his brother away.

“Well then finding this girl and how she managed to convince our father to play such a cruel trick on his own sons is!” He growls back, analyzing the chaos below. 

Then, he saw her. The redhead from before, the one who ran into them both in the hall, the one who caught their eyes. The girl was pale as a sheet, staring into nothing, breathing heavy. Loki knew instantly the girl they were looking for was her. And he made sure Thor knew it too. 

“Astrid? Astrid!” Liv whispered, not wanting more attention on them. She carefully splashes Astrids back with the cool water from the fountain behind her, earning a gasp in response.

“Thanks.” Astrid mumbles, slowly returning to herself.

But when she looks back up at Liv, she sees a guards finger pointed at her. And then she sees thousands of pairs of eyes. And all of them are on her.

sreppub:

merman!tony/human!pepper AU

Today we come back to Tony’s Lake and see how Tony & Pepper are doing :)

(The video Pepper is thinking of below the cut)

Keep reading

/click for better quality/

:

Stephen Strange knew it was impossible to protect Tony Stark’s life from the power of infinity stones so he was trying to save his astral body.

To be honest, Strange wasn’t sure it’s gonna work so he’s a little bit surprised when he sees Stark’s ghost in his kitchen. Tony is rather confused and he doesn’t understand what’s happening.

-So I am alive, yeah?

-Partially.

Loki: Mama, just killed a man.

Put a gun against his head.

Pulled my trigger, now he’s dead.

Mama, that dead man is me