#prince!bucky x servant!reader

[onceuponastory]

last stroke of midnight - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: When a stroke of luck and a little bit of magic allows her to attend Prince James' royal ball, Y/N soon realises that they’ve met before. Pairing: Prince!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of Y/N’s stepfamily belittling and degrading her, her parents dying, and her doubting herself. Classic Cinderella story stuff. Also, a little bit of angst bc it’s me. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: My final entry for @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse Connect Four event! My final square was Fairytale, and I realised I haven’t written a Cinderella inspired story before, so here we are! This can also tie into the Royalty square I had, but I’ve used that already.

Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

Slowly, Y/N makes her way down the hallway, the sound of her heels against the tiles reverberating around the room. Various elaborate portraits and other pieces of artwork stare down at her. Unsurprisingly, the royal palace is ornately decorated, ready for the hundreds of guests attending tonight. Y/N has never seen somewhere so beautifully decorated in all her life. When she reaches the end of the hallway, two heavy oak doors stand before her, the muffled sound of music and laughter from the ball seeping through. That’s how her life seems to be nowadays. On the outside, looking in. It’s still a wonder that she was invited to this ball in the first place. But Prince James ordered every maiden in the kingdom to be present, and who was she to deny a Prince’s wish?

Of course, if her stepfamily had it their way, she’d still be at home, finishing her chores. Honestly, she thought her dream of attending the ball was as ruined as the dress they tore up to force her to stay home. It was only then that Y/N learnt she had a fairy godmother of her own, who gave her a gorgeous new dress, a pumpkin carriage and a pair of glass slippers, making her look like a true princess. And now, Y/N is standing in the royal palace, surrounded by various noblemen and women, and royalty from all over the world.

And she’s never felt so out of place. She’s still waiting to wake up, for this happy dream to be over in the blink of an eye. Even now, she can hear her stepfamily screaming in her ears, forcing her to do all the household chores, as they have done every day since her father died. Treating her like a servant, rather than a human being. For so long, Y/N thought that was what the rest of her life was destined to be. Living as Cinderella, their idea of a nickname for her, rather than Y/N. Since her stepsisters took over her bedroom, Y/N has nowhere else to sleep at night other than on the cold tiles by the dying light of the fire. And each day, she wakes up covered in soot, which inspired the name.

Their voices and laughter still echo in her mind, even now. Belittling her and labelling her a mere servant with no potential. Especially for even thinking that she could attend a royal ball, Prince’s invitation or not. But here she is, at the royal ball. Wearing a gorgeous ball gown that shimmers like the stars whenever she walks, and a pair of glass slippers that somehow perfectly fit her feet.

Finally, she has a chance to do something else, to be someone else, even if it's just for a night… and she’s terrified to take it. What if they see right through her? Realise that she doesn’t belong here, that she never did? Warily, Y/N holds her hand out, her fingers tracing along the ornate, carved detailing on the door. But she’s made it this far. Surely that must mean something.

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and Y/N gasps. “I apologise, I wasn’t-” Apologising for everything is simply second nature to her now. At least, it is when you live with people like her stepmother and stepsisters.

“Ma’am.” The guard bows to her, gesturing for her to enter the ballroom. She steps back for a moment, taking a breath for courage as her heart pounds through her chest. Yet, her feet start moving without a second thought, leading her into the ballroom. She glides through the room, past everyone’s watchful eyes. Y/N can hear them whispering, wondering who she is, and she has to tune them out before she becomes too panicked and flees.

Until suddenly, the crowd parts like the sea, and Prince James steps forward, right towards her. The second she looks into his silvery blue eyes, she recognises him right away. “Hello again.” He chuckles. “I’m thrilled to see you made it.”

Of course, Y/N could never know that she was the entire reason he suggested inviting everyone in the kingdom to this ball. Since he first saw her, Prince James couldn't get her out of his mind and yearned to see her again. And the ball his parents insisted he throw to find a suitable wife seemed like the perfect opportunity to find her again. The sparkles on her dress twinkle in the light, and he can’t stop smiling the more he looks at her. She looks beautiful.

And yet, Prince James could never know that the main reason Y/N is attending this ball is for the hopes of seeing him again. Although, she had no idea he was the Prince in question.

The two first met when Y/N was at the market with her stepsisters, being bossed around once again. Thankfully, they soon stopped bothering her and went to visit the local dressmaker, granting Y/N some precious alone time. Once they left, she took some time to walk around the stalls and take in everything on offer. Just taking some time to do nothing. As the sun warmed her skin and the cool breeze blew through her hair, Y/N finally felt at peace again. She wasn’t Cinderella, at the constant beck and call of her stepfamily. For a few blissful moments, she was Y/N again.

Soon, she found a stall selling fresh fruits and vegetables, and her stomach began to rumble. That morning, like most others, she was preoccupied completing the other chores and making sure her stepfamily were fed. And that meant she hadn’t thought about feeding herself. All the food on offer looked so enticing, and she just couldn’t resist. She rifled around in her pockets to find the few coins that she had managed to hide away, hoping it would be enough for something to eat. As she did so, a voice cut in.

“No, please. Allow me.” She had turned to see a face with a pair of gorgeous silvery blue eyes smiling back at her. Before she could protest, he paid for some apples and handed them to her.

“T-Thank you, sir.” She smiled, gazing over at him. It had been so long since someone treated her with kindness that Y/N swore she could’ve broken down into tears right then.

“Please, don’t worry about it. I couldn’t leave a lady like yourself in distress.” Y/N giggled at that, her cheeks burning slightly. As they started walking together, Y/N glanced over at the kind stranger, her gaze tracing over every inch of his face. As she did, a feeling of warmth settled in her stomach. Of course, a large part of that was because of his kind gesture, but Y/N found herself attracted to him from that very moment. With the way his eyes sparkled whenever he laughed, and the way he smiled at her… falling in love with him was very easy to do.

They spoke for a while, as close as friends, despite only meeting a few minutes ago. “Forgive me if this sounds rude, sir, but I haven’t seen you at the market before.” The man laughed, adjusting the hood of his cloak.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A little.”

“Well, I thought it would be a pleasant change from my normal life. Getting out in the fresh air, meeting new people.” He explained. “And….” He looked over at her, smiling softly. “I’m glad I came.” Her cheeks burned, and her heart felt like it was doing backflips in her chest.

“I’m glad you did too.” She smiled. But before they could talk for much longer, the voices of her stepsisters filled the air, calling her and pulling her out of her brief moment of happiness. Sighing, her body slumped in disappointment. The handsome stranger raised a brow, concerned by her sudden change in emotion.

“Is everything alright?” He had asked, instinctively placing a reassuring hand on her forearm. For a moment, she considered telling him the truth about her life. But as her stepsisters got even louder, she realised she couldn’t possibly drag him into this, or let him hear the things they say about her. It’s bad enough that she gets to hear it day in, day out.

“I’m sorry. I better go.” She sighed. When she saw the man’s face fall, she regretted her choice even more. But she didn’t have a choice. “Hopefully, I’ll see you again, sir. Thank you again for the apples.”

And here he is once more, standing in front of her in all his royal finery, looking like a completely different person. He’s still just as handsome as he was that day, his eyes still sparkling. And of course, she’s sure that she looks a lot more different than she did that day, too.

“You’re a Prince?” She gasps. “The Prince?” Embarrassment flows through her veins, and her heartbeat rises. How could she have been so stupid, so naïve to not realise that she was speaking to the Crown Prince? The bitter venom of her stepmother’s words flows through her veins once more.

“You foolish child! To think the Prince would even want you, a servant girl, at his ball-”

“It’s quite alright. Please, do not worry.” He reassures her, placing a soft hand on her forearm and pulling her out of her spiralling thoughts. Just like he did that day at the market. As he does so, Y/N feels herself beginning to calm down once more. And a familiar warm feeling settles in her stomach. “I’m sorry. I should have been honest.”

Even after the complete bombshell that's just been dumped on her, she is glad to be reunited with him, too. She and Prince James stare into each other's eyes for a little while longer, each feeling their hearts beat faster and faster. For a moment, the crowds fade away, leaving just the two of them together. Despite all her anxieties from earlier that night, Y/N feels so at ease around the Prince. For the first time in a long while, she even finds herself smiling. It isn’t until the music starts playing again that they remember where they are. And the crowd is still watching them. Clearing his throat, he stands up straighter. “May I have this dance?” And once more, Y/N’s feet move forward without even thinking about it.

“Of course.” Nodding, she slips her hand into his, whilst he rests his on the small of her back. As his fingers brush along her spine, she gasps. Being in his arms feels so right, so comfortable. Every time his touch brushes against her, it feels like a spark of electricity throughout her entire body. She’s never felt so alive.

Despite how long it’s been since Y/N danced, being with Prince James makes her feel so at ease that she easily matches his steps. As they dance together, moving gracefully throughout the room, Prince James twirls her under his arms, spinning her around the room. Y/N honestly feels like she’s floating. For a moment, she forgets all her worries, and it’s as if she and the Prince are the only people in the room once more. In fact, it feels like they’re the only people in the universe right now. The fact that her stepmother and stepsisters are here, and are no doubt watching her with the Prince doesn’t even cross her mind. She could stay here for the rest of her life, in his arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After spending most of the night dancing together, Prince James soon invites Y/N out into the palace gardens for some peace, and to relax after dancing for so long. The cool night air hits her skin, and Y/N takes a breath. All thoughts of the time limit on her night, and her fairy godmother’s warnings seem to have slipped her mind.

“I must say, you are a wonderful dancer.” Y/N chuckles.

“Thank you very much, Prince James. Although, I did have wonderful company.” Prince James grins, blushing furiously.

“Please allow me to introduce myself. Properly, this time. My full, official name is Prince James Buchanan Barnes. Personally, I think it’s too fancy of a name, so my close friends and family call me Bucky.” Immediately, she drops into a curtsey. “Please, don’t feel the need to do that. It’s alright.” He chuckles. She’s still amazed by his refusal to treat her like she’s any different to him, or a different class, like she’s been used to people doing most of her life. In fact, he looks at her like she’s the most important person in the world. And it’s making her even more smitten.

“I just can’t believe I didn’t realise you were a Prince when we first met, Your Highness.”

“Please, call me Bucky.” He smiles. Y/N chuckles, and her cheeks burn even more. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth when we first met. The truth is, I enjoy going out into the kingdom and meeting the people. It’s surprising how easy it is to be undetected when you wear a cloak.” He laughs. Oh, she knows that very well. “And besides, I’m sure you understand. Wanting to get away from it all.” His words confuse her for a moment… until the penny drops.

He thinks she’s the same as him. A royal, disguising herself in order to escape her life. Of course, she looks the part right now, but it’s all fake, just pretend for the night. Her head swirls, her smile dropping. Is that why he wanted to speak to her alone? Because he thought she was something different, something special? If he knew the truth, who she really was, he’d never want to see her again. Embarrassment rushes through her, chilling her veins as her stomach churns.

“Is something the matter? Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No. I’m alright.” She lies. Her mind screams at her to tell him the truth, that compared to him, she’s a nobody, just a simple servant girl. He’s been so compassionate towards her already tonight, surely he’d understand. But she can’t bring herself to tell him. This night has been so wonderful already, and she can’t ruin it now. She just wants one good night with the man she’s falling in love with. At least after tonight, she’ll never see him again. He won’t know anything else about her.

And that hurts deep in her soul, more than anything in the world. The universe seems to be set on constantly taking away every ounce of happiness in her life. First it took her parents, and then her freedom. And now, it’s taking Prince Bucky. But like she said, this is how it has to be. She couldn’t bear him seeing the truth, or seeing him letting her go.

“These gardens really are beautiful.” She says, hoping to steer the conversation away from anything to do with her.

“Well, that’s my mother’s pride and joy.” He chuckles.

“My mother loved flowers too.” She nods, thinking back to the flowers that used to adorn their garden, vibrant hues of pinks and purples. The bees and butterflies that filled the air, flying past as Y/N played with her parents. Life was so much simpler back then, so happy. She’d give anything to return to that time, when she had no worries or stepfamily. Although, being with Bucky is making her feel just as happy as she did back then.

“Well, she must have been a wonderful woman then.” 

“She was. She really was.” 

“And you’re right, they are beautiful. In fact… there’s a lot of beautiful things here tonight.” He smiles, and Y/N’s cheeks burn even deeper this time.

“Thank you.” She murmurs, a small smile tugging at her lips. “This has truly been such a wonderful night. And I never want it to end.”

“Then stay with me. Just a little longer” Bucky smiles, stepping closer. Y/N gasps, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I wish I could, but I can’t.” When he sees the tears shining in her eyes, Bucky’s brow furrows, noticing how panicked the woman is becoming. He sighs, not meaning to come across as so forceful, or to scare her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. Not at all. You’ve been nothing but wonderfully kind to me all night.” She sighs. “It’s just… a lot to explain, Your Highness.” When he hears her call him by his official title again, it registers a feeling deep within in his gut. At the market, when her face fell as soon as she heard people calling for her, he wondered what was wrong. And now, seeing her so distressed, things are starting to make sense. Whoever this woman is, she seems to be hiding from someone. Or something.

“If anything is wrong, I can help you with whatever it is you need.” Y/N chuckles, sniffling slightly.

“I wish you could.” She’s worried enough about the possibility of her stepmother finding out she went to the ball in the first place, let alone her knowing she spent the whole night with the Prince. But if she did, Y/N would take full blame for it. It would break her heart if Bucky was hurt by her actions. Y/N steps closer to him, gently taking his hands. “But the fact you even offered means more to me than you could ever know.” Bucky looks into her eyes once more, gently cupping her cheek. Even though he only met this woman recently, he already feels like he knows her better than anyone else in the entire kingdom, even his closest advisors. He’s falling more and more in love with her with every waking moment. And he wants to make sure she’s alright. He has to.

Suddenly, a sound pierces through the air. The sound of clock chimes. Immediately, Y/N’s blood runs cold.

“What time is it?”

“It’s midnight.” Everything hits her all at once, like a bucket of cold water has been dumped over her, chilling every part of her. Her fairy godmother’s warnings ring out in her mind once more.

“At the last stroke of midnight, everything will be as it once was.”

“I’m so sorry, but I have to go. Thank you for a lovely evening!” She gasps, breaking free from Bucky’s grasp and rushing back towards the palace, to her carriage before the chimes finish. As she runs through the gardens, dodging people left and right, she can hear Bucky calling after her, trying to get her to stop. And every fibre of her being wants to turn back and tell him the truth. She knows he could protect her if she needed, that he would in a heartbeat.

But she can’t take that risk.

When she reaches the steps leading up towards the palace, Y/N runs down them, adrenaline rushing through her veins. In her haste, she can feel her shoes slipping off, but she has no time to stop them. When the first slipper falls off, Y/N doesn’t go back for it, too worried about Bucky seeing the truth to care about a shoe of all things. She slips the other one off, clasping it in her hands as she finishes her descent of the stairs and climbs back into her carriage.

As it sets off, whisking her back to her ordinary life, Y/N glances out of the window. Bucky stands on the stairs, watching her go. And Y/N feels her stomach twisting, and regret fills her veins.

“I’m sorry Bucky.” She whispers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The carriage only makes it a few miles away from the palace before collapsing completely, turned back into a pumpkin. And so, Y/N begins the long walk home, still clutching her remaining glass slipper. The waltz she and Bucky danced to replays in her head, and she hums along to the tune, moving through the steps in her head.

“It was wonderful.” She sighs to herself. “Better than I could’ve ever dreamt it.”

When she’s only a few yards away from home, the sound of hooves approaches, and Y/N ducks out of the way behind a wall. Peeking out, she glimpses them as they pass. Almost immediately, she notices the royal crest on the saddle. The feeling of hope builds in her gut once more, and she smiles. Bucky’s looking for her. He wants to find her again.

But just as soon as the hope rises, her anxieties sink in once more.

He’s not looking for her, some poor orphaned servant girl with no dowry to her name. He’s looking for the girl he thought she was. The princess, the wonderful dance partner. The girl who doesn’t exist. Sighing sadly, Y/N glances down at her remaining glass slipper, still glinting in the moonlight. A permanent reminder of the wonderful night she had…and what she lost.

But like she said, it’s better this way.

Isn’t it?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Your Highness.” The Captain of the Royal Guard pants, rushing into the room. “We looked everywhere, but there’s no sign of the mystery maiden. It appears she’s disappeared out of sight.”

Bucky sighs, nodding. “Thank you for trying, Captain.” He murmurs. He can still see the look on her face as she ran, the fear that something would happen if she didn’t leave immediately. It still makes his heart sink, even now. Nervously, he begins to tap his foot. Something is wrong with this woman, something in her life must be causing her great pain. He wants to find her again and to help her more than anything. The slipper sits atop his desk, sparkling in the candlelight. He picks it up once more, his fingers tracing around the heel. “A shoe made of glass.” He chuckles. “What a wonderfully strange woman.”

“Your Highness?” The Captain asks.

“Tomorrow morning, we commence a kingdom wide search for the maiden who fits this glass slipper.” He states. “No stone will be left unturned. Do you understand?” The Captain nods. “Good. Ready your men for the morning.” As the man departs, Bucky holds the slipper close to his chest, as if he was holding her that closely. “I will make this right.” He whispers. “I promise.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Please follow @onceuponastory-library​ and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

#Connect4AU #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #marvel oneshot #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #prince!bucky barnes #princecharming!bucky barnes #prince!bucky barnes x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

「 series collection 」

so you wanna read something with multiple parts? well, you've come to the right place. here are all of the series I've written all accumulated in one neat place topped off with a nice bow and everything

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

long series

sunflower

spencer reid x neighbour!painter!reader, follows seasons 9-10

chamomile

spencer reid x bau!reader, follows season 6

daisy

steve harrington x private school!reader, very slutty stuff

plum

joel miller x former firefly!reader, very dark and angsty

fused with the foe

king!steve rogers x princess!reader, original fantasy world, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers

the wistful wyvern  

knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, forced proximity

soot and sparks 

blacksmith!peter parker x farmer!reader, original fantasy world, friends to lovers (COMING SOON!)

lilac

 lumberjack!frank castle x reader, the wholesomeness of running an inn in a tiny rural town

buttercup

matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery

mini series

snowdrop

spencer reid x gideon!daughter!reader, pre season one + end of season 2

thistle

prince!james potter x servant!reader, set in the beginning of the 1920s

evergreen university

reader x various CEvans characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), slutty murder mystery

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #masterlist #steve rogers x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #spencer reid x reader #james potter x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller series #steve rogers smut #steve rogers series #james potter smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington series #eddie munson smut #eddie munson series #spencer reid smut #spencer reid series #steve rogers imagine #spencer reid imagine #joel miller imagine #james potter imagine #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson imagine

[writeshite]

Death Shan't Do Us Apart

Summary:

You turned away, shrinking into yourself, “I just want to see my husband….” you lamented. You may think Steve neglects you, but Bucky sees it firsthand, the eerie way your husband watches you from a distance, the way he licks his lips when he catches a whiff of your scent. Yes, he pitied you, but he’d much rather you despise him that you fall prey to what was left of your husband.

Pairings:

Steve Rogers x Male!Reader

Tags:

Vampire!Steve | Human!Reader | Medieval AU | Soft Dark Steve Rogers

Words: 2725

Author's Note:

The gods gave me the power to write so I'm going to make it everyone's problem, plus vampire Steve is not a want, it's a need.

It’s lonely when you awake; the bedroom you once shared with your husband is only yours now; he’d surrendered his living household to you, keeping only the undead. The east hallway was repurposed, the curtains and drapes shut tight, and guards posted by the entrance express orders from the king - no living shall pass, not even the prince consort. 

Any attempt to forgo these new rules was unsuccessful; the guards did not move when you arrived; they would bow their heads and apologize, “His majesty commands it, sire.”

Shadows often moved in the hallway when you were there; they reached out, then skirted back in the sunlight; sometimes, a figure would emerge in the distance, turned towards you, always watching. But then a servant would grab your arm, apologies to some unknown force spilling from their mouth as they directed you away, curses under their breath and prayers to long dead gods on their tongues.

The changes came when Steve returned from his skirmish near the gulf; he’d left you as your husband and returned as another - locked himself away and moved everything to isolate himself from you. No amount of bribery or threats would wheedle the information on the matter out of anyone; the soldiers he’d returned with looked haggard, almost terrified; some willingly welcomed the promise of death. 

Steve himself was absent, he moved fast in public, a parasol above his head, and eyes turned away from your gaze; unlike before, he did not reach for your hand, and your interactions occurred through others. In the day, that is. Night brought out the old Steve, the one who would carry you to bed when you fell asleep in your study, kiss your forehead goodnight, and hold you all night. He still did it, but only when you slumbered. Once, you’d peeked open your eyes and looked up, gazing into a near-perfect replica of your husband - his eyes were icier, the sharpness of his face amplified, and from the gasp he elicited, you noted the far pointier edge of his teeth. 

“Hush now,” he’d muttered. You’d gawked, brain still muddled with sleep, his deep voice lulled you back under, and you’d fought to stay awake. You held onto his tunic loosely as he set you underneath the covers; he held your cheek delicately, then placed a kiss on your neck. He breathed in deep, his hold still soft; as something pricked your skin, it drew only a droplet of blood, but Steve backed off at the sight of it. He had stared at it hungrily, then shook his head profusely, “Forgive me, dear heart.” You hadn’t the opportunity to ask for clarification, instead waking to the morning light with no husband in sight. 

Nine people passed away the next day, and Steve held off his midnight visits for a week. The morning bells rang through your thoughts, and your breakfast lay waiting on the open balcony, in full view of Steve’s new study. He watched you every morning, stood by the windows, obscured by the opaque drapes; he would remain until you finished, then Bucky would accompany you throughout the day, “For your safety, sire,” he’s said, never clarifying what you’d need protection from.

“I want to see my husband,” you demanded.

Bucky shook his head, “I can’t allow that,” he didn’t turn to face you; his hands remained clasped behind his back.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“You’re not wearing the ring,” he redirects the conversation, the ring in question being Steve’s apology gift - one of many - after nearly a year with him at arm’s length, you’d grown tired. “He won’t be happy about that.”

“Maybe then he’d be so kind to grace me with his presence,” you grumbled.

Bucky tutted you, “You shouldn’t say such things of your king,” he lectured, “any other monarch would have you flogged for such insult.”

“Any other monarch would do me the decency of neglect upfront,” you sniped. 

“You know why he keeps his distance,” Bucky reprimanded you. “His condition amplifies everything; it’s best you remain far until he gains some semblance of control.” When you did not back down from your anger, Bucky tutted, “Would you prefer then if he drained you dry as the baron did his first wife? Or perhaps you’d like your flesh torn from your skin as mine was by your lover’s hands?”

He wrenched the glove from his metallic arm, “You may not like it, dear prince, but he is no longer your Steve, he is a creature of the night, and his hunger may just well outweigh any love he holds for you,” he spoke harshly. 

You turned away, shrinking into yourself, “I just want to see my husband….” you lamented.

Bucky stepped back, a hint of guilt in his expression; when Steve had reassigned him as your guard, he’d made it clear your safety was of great importance - and if it meant scaring you away from him, then so be it. “It’s cruel,” Steve had said - peering through the curtains to watch you dine.

“It’s necessary.” 

He pitied you, but you weren’t there. You hadn’t been there at the gulf; you hadn’t seen Steve hold his neck as blood trailed down his skin, deep red turning into an obsidian hue, back hunching over as bones cracked and teeth grew. You hadn’t watched as Steve cut through men, both enemies, and friends, with such ferocity. Steve had stood in the blood, mouthfuls of human flesh disappearing down his throat as his fingers grew to become claws. You were spared the inhuman cruelty that Steve now possessed, the thirst for blood, and the unparalleled slaughter. You may think Steve neglects you, but Bucky sees it firsthand, the eerie way your husband watches you from a distance, the way he licks his lips when he catches a whiff of your scent. Yes, he pitied you, but he’d much rather you despise him that you fall prey to what was left of your husband.

Steve didn’t plan to become a vampire; then again, no one really ever intends to die, much less become one of the undead.

He’d heard how uncaring vampiric masters tended to be, and he could understand why humans were fragile, annoying little creatures, yet here he was isolating himself from one to keep them safe. Emotion was a stranger to him now, where before he would be angry, now he would be furious before he was in love with you, now he was obsessed. 

Bucky greatly disapproved of his visits, but what could he do? Steve never went too far; he held you at most, stroking your hair as his eyes remained fixed on the pulse along your neck - once he’d pricked your skin with his finger, you’d been swimming in the haze of sleep, as his head swam with hunger. There were minute differences to the smell of blood, the stable boy he’d eaten smelt young, a touch of something meadowy in his fragrance, while the old guardsman he’d drank from last week was stale and tasted of age. On the other hand, you were sweet, sweet like the nectar in blood offerings; he’d almost leaned in to taste but then drew back just as quickly, shaking his head to dispel the craving. 

“Forgive me, dear heart.” 

You’d made a sound of confusion before dozing off again. Steve had withheld the urge long enough to make his way down to the village - nine people is how many it took before he’d quenched himself - Bucky hadn’t looked him in the eye for a week after, and he’d kept his distance from you just as long.

“He misses you,” Natasha voiced. She often lounged in his study, never far from the doors, blessed silver blade in reach, “Refused to wear the ring.” She constantly prodded at the edge of his sanity, little comments about you and your day, what she’d heard of you from Bucky or Sam. The ring had been a precaution, crafted in silver and blessed by the priestess herself, a ward to deter him should he seek you out in a state of hunger.

“It’s to be expected, rebellion often sparks in times of uncertainty, but he will adjust in time,” Steve responded.

Natasha huffed, “You say that, but forget how willful the prince consort is,” she chuckled, “perhaps in time, he will take on a lover,” she jokingly muses.

Steve snaps the pen in his hand, the ink bursting on his hand; Natasha merely laughs, her objective of the day complete, “I did not relieve you of your duties to the regiment so you could taunt me with lies,” he hisses, dabbing away at the ink.

“They are not lies, merely half-truths; your husband is lonely, majesty,” she says, “either he will find company in another or wither away in his sorrow.”

“Any company he might find will die at my hand,” he sneers, “HE IS MINE!”

“Says you, but the nobility have begun to scheme; there are those who would love nothing more than a night between the prince consort’s —” she ducks away, words cut off when Steve’s chair flies at her. His pupils shrink, akin to a cat’s, as he seethes at her, her face may hold steady, but she can feel the slight tremble in her limbs and the rabbit jump of her near-dead heart. “Apologies, my king,” she bows, head on the floor, arms held out front, “I meant no disrespect; I serve only to inform.”

Steve says nothing, his steps rush past her, and a grunt of something passes his lips before the door opens. Natasha raises her head, a sigh of relief; Sam leans by the door, shaking his head at her, “When you said you had a death wish, I thought you were joking.”

“You heard?”

“Who didn’t? We’re all undead here,” he holds out his hand, but she brushes it aside, “using the prince consort to anger him; that’s pretty risky, even for you.”

Sam was one of the lucky ones; he’d died peacefully but came back accidentally; the gods hadn’t been ready to release him from their hold. He didn’t understand the loose grip on humanity that she and many others had, she teetered on the edge of life and death; even for a creature of the night, Steve was unbelievably heartless. The only sliver of humanity he had left was with you; as callous as it may be, “He still cares for his husband, in his own twisted way, I can use that, keep myself in high regard, keep him from going too far.”

“And if he drains the prince consort dry? Will you remain to have your head taken from your shoulders alongside us?” Sam asked.

Natasha turned away; she attempted to mimic shame but couldn’t; Sam didn’t get it; he was lucky, “Steve won’t touch you, he can’t, you hold his husband’s favor, you’re immune to his anger.”

Sam scoffed, “As long as he lives, yes, but if your plans get him killed, then no one is safe.”

Steve all but ran from his study; the afternoon sun did not bare down on him as the morning did, so he passed into the living wings with some ease. The guards stiffed when he passed by, fear pouring from their veins as their armor shook with their tremors; he finds you in the veranda, cakes half-eaten and easel set to the side, you’re sat with your back to the entrance and crown set to the side. He grimaces at the absence of your ring; the others around you all recoil at the sight of him, stepping away when he nears. 

He places his hands atop your seat and tilts his head at the door - the servants scramble over themselves to leave, and your personal guards waste no time in following. You glance around at the commotion, eyes widening when you catch sight of him, “Steve….” Disbelief laces your voice, and you stand slowly, hand outstretched to touch him. His face is twisted in slight discomfort at the shine of the afternoon sun, but he remains where he stands.

You don’t look sick, but Steve doesn’t appreciate the bags under your eyes or the tear stains on your cheeks. “What upsets you, my love?” 

“You.”

“Me? How so? I have given you more than a king ever should their consort,” he says, slightly irritated.

“And I am grateful,” you reply, “but you do not give me your company anymore; I miss my king.” You withdraw from him, arms around yourself once more, “I miss you, Steve.”

“I miss you as well, dear heart, but I’m afraid my company would do you harm. Even now,” he moves fast, and you gasp when he appears behind you. His hand comes up to your throat; a gentle pressure applied as he tilts your neck to the side, “I crave your blood unlike any other; I fear my hunger would consume me should I remain so close.” 

He would like to move away, but it’s been so long since he’s had you all to himself. His nose grazes your vein; his face has already begun to shift - the curve of his ears point out more as the edge of his teeth grows; he holds your face away from him as he hides away in your neck. “Would you still wish for my company after inflicting such pain upon you?”

Your breath hitched; Steve smiled at the increase in your heartbeat; he turned your head, his nose against yours, “I….” you hesitate, taking in the monstrous appearance of your lover; you are unsure how best to put your thoughts into words, so opt instead to move forward, slotting your lips against his. His fangs scratch against your mouth, your blood drips into his mouth, and Steve is consumed by the want, hands gripping you as you cling to him desperately. He chases after the droplets of blood, only drawing back when he remembers your need for oxygen - you are flushed, eyes dazed, and mouth swollen; Steve missed seeing you this way.

“Perhaps I’ve been too harsh with my choices, shutting myself away from a source of something so sweet,” he mulls to himself, pecking your lips after each word. No other human had quenched his thirst so fervently. 

The doors to the veranda burst open then, as Bucky and Sam rush through, Natasha trails in after them, a handful of guards by her side. They still at the sight of you in Steve’s arms, cautiously glancing at Steve as they attempt to coax you away from him. You look between them, mind still numb from the kiss; when Bucky reaches out for you, Steve hisses, tucking you away from them, “Steve, you know better,” Bucky attempts, but Steve laughs.

His laugh isn’t the warm, soothing thing it once was; it’s near deranged, cruel, “Know better? You’re the one who should know better, demanding things from your king,” his attitude changes, jovial mood shifting to disdain, “I should have you skinned alive, flesh stirred for my evening stew for your attempt at separating me from my husband.”

His grip on you has grown painful, and you whimper at it, drawing his attention back to you, “Oh forgive me, dear heart,” his grip loosens, “I forget how easy you break.” He coos apologetically, “Sam will take you away from here while I sort this out.”

You shake your head, “Please….” your eyebrows knitted in despair, “don’t kill them.”

Steve tilts his head at your request, “Oh my sweet prince, I must set an example,” he says, and you repeat the words, tears at the corner of your eyes. “Oh no, dear heart, no more tears; I dislike it when you weep.”

He wipes away your tears, “Very well, let us compromise, hmm,” he smiles, “you may take half that may live, and the rest may die. Now, now darling, it’s far fairer than what I’d intended,” he cuts you off before you can argue. His smile is strained, and his gaze is stern; you feel the implication of his grip on you and nod; once you’ve picked your half, Steve shoos you and them away from the veranda. The doors close, and you shiver at the screams that emerge after the doors close.

“I told you,” Bucky voiced, “He is no longer your Steve.”

End Note:

Again, soft dark Steve Rogers as a vampire is not a want, it's a need. Stay Hydrated.

#steve rogers x male!reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #vampire!steve rogers #the gods gave me the ability to write so i'm making it everyone's problem #Soft Dark Steve Rogers

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Zaldrīzesdōron

Daemon Targaryen x F!Reader

A/N: The next prompt suggested by @a-bang-for-your-bucky was “How can I believe you after all you’ve done?” With Daemon Targaryen. This is the first time I’ve written Daemon, I found him dialogue heavy. He’s a wordy boy, stressing his point because he’s always in the right. Anyway… thank you @adrille88 for doing the job of beta!

Warnings: Explicit 18+, smut. I haven’t written smut in a while 😬 potential kidnap (but not really), mentions of marriage, death and murder, dragons. Reader and Daemon start off a little rough but it’s consensual. Some High Valyrian snuck in there. Also the first time I’ve dipped into the fanfic world of GOT/HOTD so be gentle. Reader belongs to a house but it’s not specified which one, reader wears a dress and has hair but nothing else is specified.

Translations: (I found.)

Zaldrīzesdōron- Dragonstone.

ñuha prūmia - my heart.

issa dãrys - my king.

avy jorrãelan - I love you.

se nyke aõhon - and I am yours.

Word Count: 4.6k

The wind was fierce. It grabbed at your dress and the fear of falling off made you clutch onto the Prince more than you liked. The dragon beat his wings and you swear the pressure of it pressed inside your ear, weighing into you. A scream threatened to bubble up your throat when the beast dived and the ground seemed so far away but too close at the same time. Daemon tightened his grip around your midriff as your heart stopped and you thought this really was the moment you were going to die.

Closing your eyes, you prayed for it to be over soon as nausea clawed at your stomach; maybe you weren’t cut out for a life on dragonback. It was the dream of every small child in Westeros, to have a dragon of their own but now that you were actually here, you hated it.

As soon as Caraxes landed with a shake of his massive head you slid down his side. You hadn’t accounted for how far from the ground he was still and your legs buckled at the force of your dismount. The dragon turned to watch you curiously, his head cocked and a slight whistling sound chittered from his throat.

You were utterly dishevelled. Your hair was a mess, your dress was uncomfortable and it had shifted slightly on your body so the corset dug in. Grabbing your skirts, you loudly cursed the silver haired man who strode toward you with an arrogant swagger.

“Oh stop your griping,” he scolded you. “Most people would kill for what you just experienced.”

“I will not be disrespected like this, Daemon!” Your dress wasn’t appropriate for the wet chill on Dragonstone and your body gave an involuntary shiver.

“No one is disrespecting you, My Lady.”

“Why am I here?” You glared at him but all he did was match your ire with a cocky half smile and a hand to show you the way up to the fortress. Lifting your head you glared at him harder before swanning past and walking steadily up the long and winding causeway.

By the time you reached the tall black stone of the Keep you were visibly freezing, your numb hands doing nothing to keep you warm against the constant wind as it sliced around the island. Your hair was damp, draining any last vestige of warmth you may have had.

Daemon didn’t say anything to you. Leading you into a long hall and scattering the servants with a curt word and pretending not to notice when you headed straight for the roaring fireplace. The sensation of a thick fur being wrapped around your body made you flinch, but you grabbed onto it. Daemon swept your hair to the side, gently draping it over the fur and you allowed him to smooth it down, his hands slowly travelling along your arms until you stepped out of his reach. His pent up sigh finally being let out.

“What do you want, Daemon?”

“The pleasure of your company,” his voice sounded too loud as it echoed around.

“We could have done that within my own halls. My house is one of the few who would have allowed the scorned Prince of Westeros under its roof.” He scoffed, picking at the food that had been laid out on the table.

“It’s not the same.”

“No. My halls are much more comfortable.”

“Did you not enjoy the thrill of the ride?” He asked, lifting his gaze to gauge your reaction but you refused to play his game.

“I shall ask again and I expect a straight answer.” Daemon rolled his eyes and waved a hand to cut you off.

“Don’t be so fucking boring. You’re better than this, you know you are.” Bravely you stood stock still as he approached, his eyes eating up every inch of you as he stopped just inches from you, crossing his hands on the pommel of his sword. “You’re in need of a husband.”

“That’s what this is about?!” You sounded amused but really your entire body had just flushed with a delicious warmth as ideas ran rampant in your mind. “Are you putting yourself forward as a candidate?”

“Well I thought the dragon ride would have sealed the deal.”

“There is no ‘deal.’ If you wish to seek my hand in marriage you must fall in line with the other suitors.” Cocking an eyebrow, you enjoyed the way he grinned at you, fully taking on the challenge you offered him.

“I don’t have to fall in line with anyone. I am a Prince.”

“One that has fallen from favour more times than I can count. What would I want with a black sheep such as you?”

“A sheep,” he sneered. “Good one.” Turning away from him you weren’t expecting him to grab you, pulling you to him so hard your breath hitched. “Tell me I don’t top the best offer you’ve ever had.”

“Let me go,” you gasped but his grip just tightened. His eyes never left your face, tracing your features so marked with annoyance, he liked this look on you. He enjoyed your spirit and the way it singed his fingers, like dragon fire. You were something else entirely and he wasn’t going to let you be dimmed anymore.

“I cannot.” It was all there in his mind, everything he had ever wanted to say to you. Usually he didn’t hesitate to say what was on his mind but you choked him. “My Lady…”

“You know he will never agree to this. Our King.” The second son relinquished his grip at the mention of his older brother, a grimace crossing over his sharp features.

“As much as I love my brother, you know I don’t listen to a word he says. He told me to marry that prissy bronze cunt in the Vale and I got out of that.”

“How did she die again? Hunting accident?” You queried knowing full well that was a lie.

“And your last husband? Choked at the table did he?” The taunt was quick fired and smug but you had your story straight.

“He ate too much duck. A bone got lodged in his throat.” You scowled at him, hating the way he ran the tip of tongue over his bottom lip but then Daemon stepped back.

“It’s all inconsequential anyway,” he announced.

“Is it? I was told under no circumstances, was I to entertain any advances from you.” He raised an eyebrow, nodding at the table as though surprised at your sudden admission but you could tell he already knew you were going to say something like that.

“Your advisors know best. Do you agree with them?”

“After the way you stole me…”

“Oh here we go again, I did not steal you!” He grumbled.

“I am here against my will!” You shrieked. “I was plucked from my House and flown halfway across the world…”

“Don’t exaggerate,” he muttered.

“Flown, away from my home and dumped in this…”

“Amazing fortress.”

“Ugh! You are insufferable!”

“Would you listen to me?” He hissed coming towards you once again but this time you backed out of his reach and his hand dropped, balling into a fist. “I needed to get you away from the dying ideas of those old codgers. They ruin you. Dull you. I want nothing more than to — treat you how you should be treated. I brought you here to become a fucking Princess!”

“How can I believe you after all you’ve done?”

“That!” He pointed at you, jutting out his jaw as he tried to drive his point forward. “That is what they want. To put this poisonous wedge between us and I will not have them succeed. Not this time.”

“So you’re telling me they feed me lies? You haven’t taken whores, disrespected the crown or killed your ex wife? None of these things are true?” You challenged.

“Yes of course they’re true…I’m not lying to you here.”

“And neither are my advisors when they say I should avoid you at all costs.”

“No. They’re just trying to undermine me and ruin any chance of happiness you might want.” Your face twisted with disgust at how accurate his insight was.

“I don’t want to have this conversation anymore.” You wanted to leave and in a desperate attempt you headed for the exit, not caring where it led to but he charged; almost sweeping your balance away as he grabbed your wrist and spun you back to face him with a flurry of your dress.

“We are not finished,” he spat. “I am here telling you all the nitty gritty bits of my character, exposing my flaws so you can pick at them like a rabid raven and still love me.” Your breath quickened as your back was pressed back into the wall. “I’ve never hidden who I am,” he continued.

“Maybe I don’t like what you’re showing me after all, Prince Daemon.” He smirked but it didn’t reach his eyes. They stayed steely, and focused until he released you and stepped back. Gaining control of himself and giving you space again.

“That’s an outright lie,” he said. The firelight caught on his silver hair and you found yourself admiring him now, as much as you did when you first caught sight of him at the tournament. How you had promised yourself to capture the attention of the dragon rider, now your efforts after all this time were suddenly not so fruitless.

“So what if it is.” He stood before you, one leg cocked slightly as he openly admired you. His gaze dragging over your body and you let the fur slip down around your shoulders exposing some skin.

“We are one and the same you and I,” he whispered.

“How did you work that out?”

“Because I have heard tales of your late husbands. Tragically, you don’t seem to be able to stay married a whole year before they’re falling dead at your feet.”

“Unfortunate circumstances,” you shrugged.

“No heirs,” he continued. “So all their fortune goes to you. Their dear, bereft lady wife.” The fur slipped further and his hands worked to free himself of his sword belt. “We could be formidable, you know. Together.” He began to remove his armour, taking the breastplate off and planting it in the chair near you, his eyes never straying far from your own. “You’ve got the soul of a dragon and I admire that. I enjoy its heat.”

“What makes you think you have what it takes to tempt me, my Prince?” He scoffed, allowing the brief annoyed smirk to cross his face.

“Is it the thrill of the chase for you? To have a prince come after you like some love sick fool?” he snapped with barely contained irritation.

“You are not one of those,” you countered.

“Oh but I am. That’s why I stole you, as you so crudely put it, and brought you here, to Dragonstone.”

“To make me yours?” The last item clunked to the floor and he was standing before you in a loose shirt, leather britches and boots. Within a few strides you were in his reach. Feebly you tried to resist but he overpowered your meagre attempts until your back was flush against his chest. His large hands holding your wrists firmly across your own chest. Turning your face away, he buried himself into your neck, breathing warmly on your skin.

“To make you, mine.” Your cry rang out when his teeth sank into the softness of your neck but he didn’t release you. Just spinning you round, and walking you back until the pair of you slammed into the cold stone wall. “Yes, fight me,” he encouraged, taking a slap to the cheek and working his jaw to absorb the pain.

“You like that?” You breathed.

“Mmm, now that would be telling,” he teased; pushing forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips. He had you trapped, his wide body crowding you from all sides and his foot kicked your legs wide. Once again you tried to push him away but the scuffle just ended with you in an even more vulnerable position. Hands pinned above your head as he ghosted his nose over your face; breathing you in with a drawn out sigh as though he’d been waiting an eternity for such a moment with you. “Extraordinary,” he murmured.

“I won’t give in so easily,” you snarled but there was no conviction in your voice.

“Is that so?” He stole another kiss from you, his tongue teasing you to open up for him. Your body shivering against him, excitement sliding down your spine and a soft moan was sipped from the tip of your tongue.

The rustle of your dress was loud in the quiet, his free hand slipping under the fabric to brush the smoothness of your inner thigh. His calloused touch had your yearning for Daemon reach higher, arching your back in the hope he’d take the hint. His lips and teeth left a trail of marks along your jawline, his body pushing you even harder against the wall.

He let go of your wrists, spreading a hand over your throat in a show of control and possession. Your own hands fell to tangle in his silvery locks, pulling on them harshly so he sucked in a breath between his teeth. His hand connected with your thigh and your eyes closed as the sound snapped between you both.

“Now, now,” he drawled. You had no choice but to release the hold on his hair as he flipped you round so you were facing the fire. The heat enveloped you; mixed with the heat already coursing through your body, you could feel sweat beginning to form under your dress.

He shifted behind you, pushing his britches down until they covered his boots that he was still wearing. Daemon grabbed one of your hands and put himself in the palm. Your eyes fluttered at the silky warmth of him and you squeezed the thick tip letting him thrust slightly in your grip. Fingers curled around the column of your throat, tilting your head back until his lips found the corner of yours once again.

The fabric of your dress was lifted, this time his hand went straight for the slickness of your cunt. He parted your folds, taking his time to listen to the little noises you made when he circled your clit and teased your entrance. In return you felt your way along his stiff length, silently marvelling at the way he filled your grip. Your throat flexed in his hold as you groaned, shamelessly pushing your hips forward to try and get more friction but he chuckled darkly in your ear.

“You have to earn it,” he whispered.

“T-tell me how,” you whined. He didn’t respond, instead he pulled away, leaving you oddly cold in front of the fire.

The flames licked the huge logs, burning them a hot white colour and successfully captivating your gaze as you tried to calm the rising frustration. Looking over your shoulder, you saw him leaning against the table, britches pulled up but still undone, arms crossed over that wide chest as he waited for you to make your move.

“Is this how you treat all your women?” You asked with a biting edge to your tone, allowing him to see how riled up you were.

“No,” he replied with the blunt truth. “Other women bore me so I don’t waste my time on them more than necessary.” You approached him slowly, aware that he was watching every little movement you made. You didn’t want to give him the opportunity to discard you, not after the effort you had both put into getting here.

Reaching out you pulled the ties on his shirt to expose his chest, forcing his arms down and you drank in the sight of his scarred skin. Gently you traced the rough skin, watching him tense under your delicate touch.

“Did these hurt?”

“Possibly.”

“Are they from Caraxes?” You asked, forcing the fabric off his body completely so that he let it pool on the floor at his feet. He had more scars, marking his side and back.

“They are not the result of something that exciting. Just took a few arrows at the battle of the Stepstones.”

“I heard you won that fight pretty much single handedly, my Prince.” Your sultry gaze rose and you looked at him through your lashes. Running your fingernails down the dip between his pecs.

“Are we going to talk about my battle prowess all night or are we going to fuck?”

“Wouldn’t it be a surprise if I walked away after you promised so much and didn’t deliver.” Your words had the desired effect and the sense of anticipation leapt in your chest when he grabbed your face, pulling you close so he could feast on your mouth.

You went further, pushing his hips so he sat on the table. Manipulating your dress, you carefully lifted a leg up to mount him and he helped you by lifting the other so you were kneeling over him. Immediately you ground your hips over the barely covered bulge in his britches, enjoying the way he gasped in your mouth when he felt your unclothed cunt run over the exposed tip of his cock.

He wasted no time in pushing the material back down, taking a moment to feel how wet you were as he still ravished your mouth. His thick fingers nudged into you, stretching you so much you groaned, clutching at his face as you rolled your hips.

The motions between you became greedy, your nails scraped the underside of his chin. Daemon’s teeth seemed to seek out every fleshy spot he could reach but nothing slowed the relentless pressure of his fingers. A thumb passed over your bundle of nerves and your mouth dropped open, face contorting with pleasure you haven’t experienced in so long.

The orgasm rolled over you like the waves of the sea outside. Crushing walls you didn’t even realise you’d put up and baring a part of yourself that had been hidden for years. Daemon watched every little expression that crossed your face, studying you as though it helped him get to know you.

Withdrawing his fingers, he didn’t give you time to recover. Making you stand on shaky legs only to shove you over the table. Dishes of food went flying when he cleared a space for you, the metal singing a song as they clattered on the stone floor only to be punctuated by your shocked gasp when he ripped the fabric of your dress right down the seam.

“You’d look better in black,” he spoke thickly, barely containing his need for you. The material was discarded and your spine was bent until your cheek rested on the smooth wood. He gathered your slip at your hips, passing a hand over your backside and cupping your dripping cunt to gather your wetness. From the corner of your eye you could see him rub his glistening hand over his cock before he rubbed it along your slit. Teasing your entrance and looming over your back, trailing his hair between your shoulder blades.

There was no warning when he entered you, not that it mattered. You’d been waiting impatiently for the punishing stretch and he did not disappoint. You were slick enough to let him push in without any resistance and he took full advantage. The firmness of his thrusts jolting your body, a hand pressing into your back to hold you in place as he watched the way he slid so perfectly in and out of you.

Your body was craving him, your hands fisting because they had nothing to hold onto, your walls fluttering, squeezing him so tightly he had to lean his back and close his eyes to try and think of anything but the way you felt. He didn’t want this to end too soon; he wanted your body until you were bone limp and completely pliant.

The next orgasm ripped through your body and he paused to feel every tremble and to hear every obscene cry that came out of your pretty mouth. Your eyes were half closed when he slipped out of you, helping you up into his arms so he could lay you before the fire. You moaned, barely able to form words but your hands gripped his as he rubbed it up your front. Spreading his fingers widely over your stomach and up between your heaving breasts to trail his thumb over your lips.

You shifted, drawing his attention back to your exposed cunt and he moved. Settling between your legs, your thighs resting easily against his shoulders. You were glistening already but he wanted to add to it. Gathering the spit in his mouth and looking up to see you watching him with pupils blown wide, lips wrapped around his thumb as you sucked gently.

He spat on your clit. Diving down to devour you with his mouth, tongue licking you all the way up and down as he groaned with ecstasy at the taste of you. Legs tensed either side of his head and your shaky hand gripped his hair, urging him on. The cries you had no control over burst from your chest, hips grinding into his face until all he could sense was you and the ache in his spine as his cock twitched in desperation.

Another orgasm stole your senses. Whipping you into a state of higher bliss, a place no man had ever taken you before. Daemon looked over you, stroking some hair out of your face before he began all over again.

His mouth crushed into yours, the taste of you on his lips made you gasp. His skin was slick as it slid over yours, his body covering you, a hand digging into your thigh as he brought your leg up.

He lined himself up, pushing the thick tip into your aching mess of a cunt and you moaned loudly. He went slowly but steadily, allowing you to swallow him up until he had sheathed himself to the hilt inside you. Your walls fluttered at the welcome intrusion, stretching around Daemon’s fullness, making him curse in Valyrian.

You could barely concentrate, so cock-drunk on the feel of him it was struggle just to remember to breathe. His hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him as he flexed his hips, testing your waning limits.

Fingers fisted in the furs beneath you as he stoked the blazing heat inside you, making your toes curl tightly. Tired cries burst from your chest as he picked up the pace, pumping forcefully into your cunt so the sound of your sex filled the hall. He might have been praising you, degrading you, it didn’t matter. The rumble of his voice was all you could register as euphoria melted over your mind. The coil in your belly wound almost painfully tight and you thought you couldn’t take anymore from him when it snapped.

Your back arched, your legs clamped around him as your cunt squeezed on his cock from the force of your release. Your vision streaked with white, hands grabbing at the man on top of you, snatching at his arms until your nails drew blood. You felt him pulse inside you, right before he came to his own end with an explosive snarl. His mouth fell on yours, the salty taste of his sweat marked the edges of your lips as you both fed off each other’s highs.

He teased as much pleasure as he could out of you, until you were whimpering from the overstimulation and your body was limp and pliable. Finally, he pulled his softening cock free and rolled onto his back with a self-satisfied exhale. He looked over at you. His features were etched by the firelight but he looked softened. This wasn’t the hard faced man that had stolen you earlier today, the man that defied everyone just to please himself…here was a man who was letting his emotions show on his face. All barriers were down and you also felt oddly exposed to him. Not just naked, no this was something else. He turned to his side and began to stroke your slightly damp skin.

“Do you want to know the real reason why I stole you away?” His fingers drifted lightly over your aching stomach, watching the shadow his large hand cast in the twitching light of the fire.

“I think you’re dying to tell me,” you whispered. Your throat was dry and sore from all the noise he’d pulled from you. Daemon smiled, leaning forward to kiss your exposed shoulder.

“I wanted to save you from dreary men.” Your laugh was rich as it echoed in the stone hall and he grinned at the sound. Rolling onto your front under the furs you nudged into his wide chest.

“Yes, they were dreary. It’s why I killed them,” you admitted in a whisper.

“I promise to never bore you, ñuha prūmia.”

“And I promise to keep you on your toes, issa dãrys.” Your expression faltered when he didn’t respond. Did you say it wrong? Did he think you were undermining his brother by calling Daemon your king? You meant he was the king of your heart, he always had been.

“Do you know…everything I have done that my brother has not approved of has been because of you.” He couldn’t meet your eyes as he spoke, choosing instead to concentrate on your body.

“How so?”

“Every time you got remarried. I hated seeing you tied to some simpering idiot who didn’t deserve you. I could see how much it squashed your spirit.” You gently took his chin in your hand, forcing him to look at you.

“I cannot be tamed, Prince Daemon.”

“No.” He leaned into you, pretending to bite at your face as you giggled softly. “I want to free you,” he breathed. Gazing into his darkened eyes you felt your heart stutter in your chest. Your dreams were coming true, the man you’d been wanting since you’d come of age was here, naked at your side baring everything to you. “Avy jorrãelan,” he whispered into the shell of your ear.

“Daemon…” biting your lip, you let him roll you onto your back. His mouth was hot and wet as he skimmed his lips over your throat, fingers travelling down your body, drifting over your pert nipples.

“I know,” he mumbled into the soft flesh of your breast as he tongued and massaged your other nipple. Your fingers dipped into the crown of silver hair, back arching to offer yourself to him as much as possible. “I am yours,” he moaned, closing his eyes as though it tortured him to say such words.

“Se nyke aõhon!” You cried out when his fingers dipped into your aching heat. He groaned at the sensation of you, the thickness of his fingers filling you, bruising you almost. You were still tender from what had transpired before.

“If I could stay inside you forever, I would,” he whispered hurriedly as he rose above you. His hair dripped down like hot Valyrian steel as he leaned into you, sucking the mewling cries you gave him straight from your mouth.

You didn’t want to be anywhere else. You weren’t wanting him for power or status, he was so much more than his titles and bloodline. You wanted him because he made you feel things no other man had ever achieved. And those sensations were addictive.

#daemon targaryen x you #prince daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x f!reader

[subwaysurf45]

The Time of the Prey (2)

Summary: The younger sister of the most talked about princess in the kingdoms really can’t do much except smile and nod. When Natasha, your sister, finally goes to moves all of you to Shieldshire to marry her beloved Prince Steve you are left with your art, all alone. But one Knight took it upon himself to keep you company, and that company was all you needed to get through wedding season. Will that company last or will it be ripped away from the both of you? A war is starting and it seems targets are being made.    

Pairing: Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: stalking, protective Bucky, mentions of poison, allusions to SA and kidnapping, fluffy yet angsty

Series Masterlist      II      Series Playlist

It had been a few days since your arrival and you had yet to see the outside of the castle, there had been so many wedding preparations with Natasha she asked you to come to all of them. As you sat with her to pick out flowers for her bouquet or sit on a very comfortable poof as she tried on her wedding dress. 

Your mother was there as well when Natasha was trying on her dress, their top seamstress tightening her corset. You had worn one before but not enough to know how to breathe, your mother wore one every day. Your mother was brought to tears when she saw the tiara placed on Natasha’s head, you had never seen her cry before but your mother had the biggest smile on her face. 

“Leave us,” she said and the seamstress finished the last measurement and left the room, “Y/N, that means you too.” 

You had never been included in the wave of the hand dismissal before. 

Royalty had a way of bossing around people below them, you’ve never heard your mother use please or thank you to any handmaid, servant, or seamstress in your life. Normally, if your mother asked you to leave- which is more than most people think -she’d say your name and add a please for good measure. 

You almost let your shocked expression show when you got up to leave, placing a hand on your stomach and felt a stiff board that was there. You were wearing another gift gown you received when you showed up, Shieldshire’s dresses had a lot more boning than South Lands’ dresses. 

“I will be going to the market today, mother,” you said at the doorway, “I hope you and Natasha have a nice day,” you knew your mother could see through your smile, she knew you could easily fake courtesy but when you made it easy to tell you were upset was worse than faking it. 

“Sister?” Natasha quickly called, “will you wear a corset with me a few days before my wedding, maybe a week before to get used to it?” she was wearing one now, feeling the pain as she breathed. Natasha always had a hard time picking up on the fake curtsies, always thinking people were being extremely proper to her no matter what.  

“You’ll never go through it alone, sister,” you smiled, “may I suggest wearing Shieldshire’s gowns, they’re tighter than ours.” Natasha smiled and nodded, her chest almost spilling out of the front of her dress. It was her wedding soon, you would be evil to be mean to her in this moment. 

“Thank you,” she whispered before you closed the door. 

“Princess Y/N,” a guard had approached, “do you need an escort, where are you heading?” he smiled. 

“I’m going to the market, I would like to find some fabrics and dresses,” you smiled and walked past him, knowing you didn’t need an escort when going to the market near castle walls. 

“Then you will need an escort,” the knight walked beside you and turned in front of you, “I will accompany you.” 

“I don’t need one,” you laughed, “I’m very capable on my own, thank you.” 

“I do not doubt that, Princess,” he laughed, “but it is castle rules, you are leaving so you’ll need an escort.” 

“But I was told I do not need one, that if I was just going to the market near the castle I would always be in a knight's eyesight.” your voice went up as you talked, seeing the confusion on the knight’s face. 

“May I ask who told you that, Princess?” his voice shook. 

“I-I don’t know, he came into my room and told me my art would be coming and told me what I told you…was he lying?” you stepped forward with a furrowed brow, “what is the matter?” 

“You go back to your chambers,” he said quickly, “someone will be there soon.” 

“What is going on?” you asked as he walked you back, “you must tell me!” you shouted as he pushed you into your room and closed the door, the sound of it locking caused you to stomp your foot, something you could get slapped for. 

You sat on the edge of your bed with your arms crossed, a pout on your face. You just wanted new dresses and to survey the land for painting spots, the last thing you wanted was to be locked in your room, not understanding anything. Your mind wandered and you wondered if you’d get in trouble for this, your mother seemed to have enough of you already, and you didn’t want to see how mad she’d get if she found you had caused a scene. Natasha had enough stress on her already. Though she was older than you, both of you knew she relied on you for comfort. Her wedding means so much to her that you wanted it to go as smoothly as possible. 

There was a knock at the door, “Princess Y/N?” the voice was muffled, “it is Ser James, may I open the door?” 

“It is locked,” you said as you stood. 

When you reached the door it was already open, James stood in the doorway, “and I have a key.” 

“Lucky you,” you rolled your eyes and turned around going back to your bed, “you may come in.” 

James entered but left the door slightly open, “I’m here to escort you to the market, I heard you would like to shop.” 

You looked over at him, “why?” he seemed very confused like the last knight, “I was told you don’t need an escort if you’re near castle walls, am I missing something?” 

He let out a deep sigh, “I’m afraid you are,” his hands joined together, “the man that was in your room was not a man of Shieldshire or South Lands,” he slowly looked up to you, “he was a spy, from Hydra’s Hill, he was caught yesterday when he was sending a pigeon back to his home,” Natasha and Steve communicated through messenger pigeons, it was common and the main form of communication amongst royals. 

You could feel your blood running cold, “he was able to enter my room…h-he must have had a key…how could he have-”

James quickly sat next to you on your bed, “do not worry, Princess,” he calmed, “he had been taken care of. But you, Princess Natasha, and Lady Melina are being watched closely, we do not know who is a spy.” he smiled when you began to calm down, “I will be your personal escort wherever you’d like, I’m going to keep you safe because that is my job.” only now did you notice a slightly heavier tunic and chain mail covering his chest, he was also wearing padded pants. 

“Ser James,” you stood up and brushed down the front of your dress, “you should be watching Natasha rather than me, she is a more prized possession than me,” you scoffed and walked over to your vanity. 

“Princess Y/N,” James spoke slowly, “it is not the oldest and the one that is to be married who is more likely to be taken, it is also not a mother who had already been wed,” you felt him stand and step closer, “it is the youngest, that would be you.” 

You slowly turned around and saw the worry in his eyes, “but wouldn’t they want the prized jewel?” 

He shrugged, “sometimes it’s easier to steal the royal staff,” one hand grasped yours, “because it is not guarded as strongly as the jewel.” he slowly dropped your hand after you nodded, “let’s not ruin the day entirely, if you want dresses we’ll do get dresses, Princess.” 

You nodded and began to walk, he followed behind you, “can you walk by my side, rather than behind me, Ser James?” you asked over your shoulder. 

“Of course, Princess.” he walked beside you. 

He walked beside you as you left the main doors, out into the sun. you stopped abruptly and so did James, your eyes slowly closed as you took in the smell of afternoon air. When you opened your eyes you saw people walking around, living their normal lives. James touched your elbow and guided you to keep moving, you walked beside him. 

“So,” you started but never finished your sentence. 

“So,” he with a smirk as he looked over at you, “what is it you want to ask?” 

“When these younger princesses get stolen,” his smile fell, “do they normally get saved?” Your hands played with one another, silently becoming more anxious about the situation that has unfolded in front of you. “or do they...?” 

“Please do not worry yourself with that, we’ll keep you safe here,” James shook his head, stopping in front of a vendor who sold fabrics. 

“I’m just curious,” you said innocently, picking up some of the fabric and feeling it between your fingers. 

“P-Princess Y/N,” the vendor seemed to be in shock, “what a lovely surprise,” he had a permanent smile on his face, “please, feel free to look at whatever you like, if you have your sizes we can make the dress and send it to you inside the castle.” 

“That would be lovely,” you nodded, the vendor seemed pleased. 

He stood back and allowed you to feel and look at all the fabrics. They were rich and soft, as you felt a sheet of purple silk between your fingers your eyes seemed to close, it was as if it wasn’t there; that’s how smooth it was.  The vending table was made of a slab of wood with a tent above it, there were alternating white and red flags hanging off of the edges, there was a white tablecloth underneath the fabrics to make them pop, a black fabric under the white silks and furs to make sure everyone saw them. 

There were fruit stands and jewelry stands with different colour flags hanging off the side of their tents, it seemed these stands stayed put but the vendors changed. People were walking around with baskets on their arms. There were families walking as well, kids running between a mother's and father’s legs as they played with a new toy. 

You looked back at the fabric and picked up the purple sheet, “this would make a great wedding gift for my sister, I’ll have someone send her sizes,” you smiled up at the vendor. 

“Anything for you, my Princess?” he asked, “see, this colour would look great against your skin, let me tell you,” he held up a dusty orange fabric, you touched it and it felt heavier than most he had laid out, “see,” his arms reached out to place the fabric against your chest. 

“Watch it,” James reached in and grabbed his wrist.

“Ser James,” you chastised, removing his hand, “I’m sorry, mister,” you looked back at the vendor who was shaking, James was much larger than the man. “Continue.” It was known not to get on a Knight’s bad side, they were heavily trained and could kill in a silent but torturous way.

“I-I…” the man stumbled, “the colour would really compliment your skin, as seen here…” he reached out slowly and looked at James as he did, gently placing it upon your exposed chest and collar bone so you could see in the small mirror behind him. 

“That does look wonderful,” you gasped, your hands feeling the fabric though it rested against your skin already, “it’s heavy, what is it?” 

“A binding of silk and wool,” he smiled, “I made so many prototypes to get a ratio right, I’m very proud if you can’t tell.” it seemed he had forgotten about James grabbing his hand and was back to just having a conversation with you. 

“I can’t sew to save my life,” you giggled, “I’ll have someone send mine and my sister's measurements to you right away-how much for all of this?” 

“My Princess,” he shook his head with a blush, “not a penny, our town is so excited the Prince is getting married to Princess Natasha, this dress is a gift to you.” he couldn’t contain his smile, taking one hand and squeezing it between both of his, “thank you,” he said passionately. 

“That’s enough,” James grumbled and detangled the hands, “let's move on.” 

You didn’t pick up anything else, you didn't have a basket to hold anything in. James walked with you around the market and stopped whenever you did, looking around and surveying his surroundings. You tried to engage in conversation with him but his mind was elsewhere, he didn’t care that you liked the tree hanging down or the pretty flowers on display. You ended up getting a bouquet as a gift from the vendor, you held them in front of you chest as you walked, occasionally smelling them. 

“They are wonderful,” you looked up at Ser James who was looking everywhere but you, “your kingdom has such wonderful greenery, don’t you think?” you gasped as you looked around, which ever way you looked you were greeted with some form of plant. 

“Yes,” was all he said. Nothing enthusiastic, it looked like talking about flowers was pitiful to him; you swore you saw him roll his eyes. 

When you were making your way back a man approached you and James stood in front, one hand out to make sure he could feel you behind his back. 

“I would like to offer some wine,” he said as he held a small glass, “we would love to supply the wedding if the Princess will have us.” 

“That is not up to me,” you said as you stepped around James, “but if it is good I'll be sure to tell my mother.” you reached out to grab a cup but James got in your way, taking to cup and offering it to the man selling it to you. 

“You first,” James snarled. 

“I’m afraid do not understand, this is a gift for Princess-”

“I know what you intend,” James pushed the cup towards him again, “but you drink first.” 

“Do you think I want to poison the Princess?” he gasped, “I would never,” he swiftly took the cup and took a sip, even flashing his tongue after swallowing, “how poorly do you think of the common folk, Knight?” 

“Alright,” you stepped in, “no need to fight, some of us are more paranoid than others I’m afraid,” you laughed it off, “I’d love some.” you took a sip and felt the liquid fill your mouth, it was very fruity and seemed to dance on your tongue, “it’s the bubbly kind!” you smiled, “I had it once when I was a child, with my sister, it was so splendid,” you cheered, “my mother never let us have it, it was a treat.” you took another sip and looked to James, “would you like some, Ser?” 

“No,” he said flatly, “I can’t.” 

“Right,” you shook your head, Knights can’t drink. You placed the cup in the man’s hands, “thank you so much, I’ll be sure to tell my sister.” 

“Thank you, Princess,” it looked like his day was complete. 

James had taken you back to the castle, you were now secluded from the population and on royal grounds. There were Duchess and Dukes walking past you, smiling and waving. James seemed to relax as you walked past other guards, he was walking beside you again and engaging in minimal conversation. 

“No, they don’t,” he said out of nowhere, you had not prompted them at all. 

“Pardon?” you stopped and turned to face him.  

“Your question from before,” he said slowly, “you asked if the youngest Princess gets saved,” he paused, “they don’t.”

“Oh…” you looked to the ground and the loose gravel under your feet. There was this weird feeling swirling around in your stomach, as much as you hated how stern and straight to the point he was, you couldn’t get over the little curls that framed his face. He was talking about you getting kidnapped and all you could think about was those freckles scattered on his cheeks, you felt like you sister. “What-what happens?”  

“If they’re taken for ransom, the price to pay is typically too high and the castle gives up the life for the greater good. If they are taken for a some type of warning then…well, there is a war,” he sighed, “as of right now with things brewing between all castles it seems someone would be taken for a warning, something dangle in front of another kingdom like a ragdoll.” 

“Ragdoll?” your voice gave out as you asked. 

“I do not mean to scare you,” he looked both ways before talking, “but you must understand what men will do to a Princess if she is taken.” 

“I understand,” you nodded, “I’ve never been called that before.” 

James’ face fell, “I do not call you a ragdoll, simply drawing from previous wars and explaining it that way, I do not think you will be captured, we’ve realized there is a snake early on and we’re are doing everything we can to protect you and your family.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“Let’s change the subject,” he smiled, “it too good a day to be talking about ragdolls,” James offered his arm to you, “I hear you like to paint?” 

“I do,” you smiled. 

“I have just the thing.” 

********

The gentle spring day set the scene for the small pond presented in front of you. 

The water was close to clear and as you stepped forward you could see a rippled reflection of yourself, there were lily pads and flowers floating on the surface of the pond, a few fish creating circulation. There was a shimmer running along the gently flowing water, it would sometimes reflect straight into your eyes but you wouldn’t mind, just slightly adjusting the angle you were looking at yourself from. 

A calm breeze moved the trees above, shaking out a few leaves which were caught by the thick and healthy grass and water. You stood with your eyes closed and breathed in the rich air, feeling how clean it was and the way it opened your lungs just a little wider. 

It felt as though you were already staring at a painting, the spring sun lit up the grass and trees perfectly. There was no flaw in this little patch of space and you felt a certain ownership of it. This was not your land or your kingdom but you knew you could paint this very well; that painting would belong to you. 

The pond and trees were in a valley, there was a hill which is where James stood, giving you time to look by yourself. 

“It’s beautiful!” you called up to him, making your way up the hill. Your shoes had come off and you picked up your dress which caused you to show your calf, “it’s only my leg, Ser James,” you laughed as you saw him look everywhere but you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as you made your way up to him, slightly out of breath. When you stood beside him you let your dress cover your ankles again, he slowly looked at you to make sure nothing was on display. “Do you like it, Princess?” 

“I love it,” you looked back to the pond again, “I’ll have to go and get my supplies and begin painting right away, I haven’t been this inspired since my last project which was so long ago.” 

He could have cut you off in the middle of your sentence but he chose not to, “you won’t need to grab your supplies, your handmaid is on her way.” you found it charming that he let you talk, no one really did that before. 

“Thank you, Ser James.” you bowed. 

“If we are to be friends I hope you can call me by my name,” he leaned in with a smirk, “call me James, just James, and maybe one day you’ll call me Bucky.” 

“Who’s Bucky?” you laughed, covering your mouth as you giggled. 

“Still me,” he laughed as well, “just a different name for the same person.” 

Your fingers toyed together in front of you, something no lady should ever do. “I have a small request as well…”

“I am at your service, Princess.” James smiled and slightly bowed his head, thinking you were going to send him off or you were going to request the most abstract thing in the world. 

“I am not a Princess,” you spoke slowly and saw the way his brow creased, “I’m just a Lady, I’m Lady Y/N and I would prefer you’d call me that instead of Princess.” 

“Pardon my confusion,” he shook his head, “but how are you not a Princess?” 

“Because I am not set to marry,” your eyes flickered to his and expected him to laugh or begin to question who you really were. Women who were high-born are promised to marry someone before they are even born, Natasha was promised to marry Steve before she entered womanhood. 

“Pardon my confusion again,” he rubbed his forehead as his head continued to shake slightly, “but how on Earth are you not set to marry?” 

“Because I-...” your eyes moved over James’ shoulder to see Bellona, your handmaid walking up with your art supplies wrapped up in her arms, “I should help her,” you stepped past him but he caught your arm, his hands grasping around your forearm which was covered by silk, you could hear Bellone stop and gasp at the sight of a Knight gently holding your elbow. 

“We will finish this conversation, yes?” he was not mad, more concerned. His blue eyes flickered between yours to try and search for an answer, when he found nothing he slowly let your arm go, “pardon me for such aggression,” he whispered and wiped down the front of his tunic and chainmail though it was not creased. 

“You’re forgiven…” you paused, “James.” 

When you walked up to Bellona she was worried, having just seen a Knight grab your elbow, “do you need me to find-”

“I’m fine,” you smiled, “he’s a friend, don't worry,” you gathered the supplies and thanked her before turning back and setting up your easel so you could begin to paint. 

“It had been a great afternoon…” James smiled when you looked at him with a nod, “if you need anything, let me know, alright?” 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“It is my duty, Lady Y/N.” 

EPISODE 3

Taglist: tag list: @maybeimart​ @imtherain @jackiehollanderr @redneckstrash @tylard-blog1 @readingbooksdrinkingtea @linzc-reader @honeybunchesofbucky @sky0405 @striving4averagegirl @seybox @yaszx @happyt0exist @honeybunchesofbucky @munsonette @searchf0rtheskyline @aya-fay @emi11ie @prettywhenicry4 @theluvcafe​ @whatsmylaneagain​​

(21/30)

if you would like to be added to the taglist please send an ask, I won’t reply but know I’ve seen it!

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x yn #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff #bucky #bucky angst #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky series #Bucky barnes series #bucky barnes reader #bucky reader #knight!buck #Knight!bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #winter solider fluff #winter solider angst #winter solider series #the time of the prey #bucky barnes x femaly reader #bucky x femaly reader #bucky x femaly yn #bucky barnes x femaly yn #knight!bucky x Princess!reader

[warriorofthought]

Masterlist

lotr

Lindir

He wanst to court you

Ice Bear

Haldir

A little bit jealous and protective

Lord Elrond

Burning Cream

Saving a Poisoned Half-Vampire

King Thranduil

A Father's Condition: A Heartbroken Son's Choice

A Servant's Lie Destroys Love

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner

Bullied (x Son Reader)

Bullied Part 2 ( x Son Reader)

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

A rescue and a ride home (Biker Bucky x Reader)

First Date (Biker Bucky x Reader) Part 2 ↑

Winter (Winter Soldier x Scientist Reader)

Don't huge my Mom (Bucky x Reader x Son)

Unexpected twist at the Wedding

Terrible Watcher

Calm dancing

Avoid, Drowning and Justice

Christmas Reunion

Dragon racing (Prince Bucky x Princess Reader)

I did love you, always! (The Winter Soldier x Reader) Part 2

#masterlist #marvel #criminal minds #lotr #Haldir #Lindir #Bucky Barnes #Aaron Hotchner #Lord Elrond #Winter Solider #Thranduil #the elvenking

[geminigirl0298]

Safe (Part 1)

Relationship: Dom!Reader x Sub!Loki x Sub!Bucky

Summary: The Avengers are giving the newly reformed Loki a hard time, so you and Bucky decide to take him under your wing. Sexually. (Dom!Reader x Sub!Loki x Sub!Bucky)

A/N: Hope y'all like this as much as I do! Feel free to ask to be added to the taglist for part 2!

ALSO: Please help me settle a decision about a new fic here

Warnings: SMUT, minors DNI, 18+, NSFW, handjob, voyeurism

Masterlist

PART 1:

“So… What is it?”

Loki frowned. He stared down at the piping hot pan and flicked his eyes back up to the billionaire. “What do you mean?” He gestured to the stove. “They’re pancakes!” Stark’s jaw dropped.

“P-pancakes?” He threw his head back. “Romanoff, come look! Reindeer Games thinks he made pancakes.” The redhead did not turn her head.

She was sitting on a high stool near the breakfast bar with a cup of coffee. Her eyes were closed, cup to her lips, but she still managed to throw in a jab. “He’s a prince, or at least he was. You expect him to be able to know how to cook?”

“Probably had servants to do everything for him, right?” quipped Clint, walking into the kitchen. He glared at Loki as he passed by him to grab a plate from the high cupboards. Of all the Avengers, the archer hated Loki the most. The mind control Loki had put him under had been an agonizing ordeal. Though Loki had tried to explain that the mind stone in his scepter had been fueling his rage, and that the fear of Thanos and his order were driving most of his actions, it all seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Even Steve Rogers, America’s golden boy, could not stand to be around him. He, like Bruce Banner, never joined in the taunting but they never attempted to stop it either. Rogers was cold and hard during training and though he may not admit it, Loki knew he was the reason he had not yet been invited on a mission. The blond man was the de facto leader of the team. If he said he did not want Loki leaving the compound, then Loki was not leaving the compound.

The only people who were nice to Loki were the Wanda Maximoff girl, Sergeant Barnes, and you. Wanda was kind enough, but her powers were new and immature. She spent a lot of time in a facility learning to control them, so she was hardly around Loki enough for them to become proper friends.

Sergeant Barnes was another story. Maybe it was the years of brainwashing and torture, or the fact that he knew what it felt like to be trapped in your mind while you watched your body do things you did not want it to do. Either way, he had no problem speaking to Loki. He never joined in the teasing, and he sometimes told them to stop altogether. If Loki was training alone, Barnes would offer to train with him, and if he saw someone was being particularly hard, he would step in.

But neither Wanda nor Bucky compared to you.

You had been the first person to show him any sympathy upon his arrival to the compound. Being dropped into a Midgardian lifestyle had thrown Loki for a loop, and no one was willing to help him adjust. You had taken it upon yourself to be his sensei of sorts. He was not sure why, or what he had done to gain your favour, but it was clear you had a soft spot for him. From showering to eating and sleeping, or making Bruce loosen the cuff on his wrist that hindered his magic so it would not chafe it, you made sure he was taken care of. You gave him extra blankets and the softest clothes, got him books he wanted, and even set him up with a therapist for the nightmares that plagued his slumber. Loki was grateful to you beyond words.

“What’s everyone laughing about?” He recognized the voice as Barnes. The super soldier strode into the kitchen. His brown hair was in a little bun at the nape of his neck, and on his arm was you. A weird feeling tickled his throat upon seeing you two together. Barnes had returned from a mission last night and Loki had been awake to see him return. The man went straight to your room, and not ten minutes later, Loki could hear both your moans float out into the common room.

“Loki tried to make pancakes,” Clint answered. “My twelve-year-old can cook better than this. Can’t believe this is the same guy who tried to take over the world.”

Barnes rolled his eyes. “Give the guy a break. He’s new to this.” His metal hand reached out to grab the pan by its handle. “I’ll make pancakes this morning. Who wants?”

“Not me,” said Romanoff. “Clint and I have a briefing to get too.” Stark was already on his cell phone dealing with an issue— something about some pots, Loki was able to pick up. One by one, the three trickled out of the kitchen. Rogers and Wilson were away on a mission so he knew he would not be running into them anytime soon. That left Loki alone with you and Bucky.

“Lokes, you okay?” Warm hands touched his back. He turned around to see you standing before him in a fluffy sleeping robe, eyes wide and concerned. You moved your hands to rest on his chest. “Don’t worry about them, alright? They’ll come around.”

“No, they won’t.”’ The words were a whisper. “They hate me.”

You winced. “Lokes—”

“I don’t even want to be here!” Loki hissed. “My oaf of a brother is pretending I’m here for ‘reform’, but the truth is, he doesn’t want me on Asgard. The team doesn’t want me here either so why don’t you all just fuck off and let me go where I want?”

“Loki.” Your voice was firm, stern. Your lips stiffened into a grimace, and you crossed your arms in front of you. Behind you, he saw Barnes shoot you a glance. “I understand it has been hard for you here, and I get the mind stone influence, but you did do a lot of wrong. It was not all the stone, and New Mexico surely wasn’t. Now, the team might be hard on you, but Bucky and I are not. We’ve taken care of you and looked out for you since you’ve been here. If you want to yell at someone, yell at them; not us. Understood?”

Tears welled up in Loki’s eyes. You had not raised your voice once, yet he felt the weight of the admonishment on his shoulders. It was astonishing how someone so much smaller than him could feel so much bigger than him in the moment. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “You’re right, you’ve been good to me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Have you eaten for the morning?” Loki shook his head. “Well, that won’t do.” You grabbed a banana off the kitchen counter and peeled it before offering it to him. “Here.” He reached for it, and you pulled it away. “No, I’m feeding you. Take a bite.”

“What?” Loki gave you a look. No one had fed him anything since he was a child. Maybe a few grapes from a pretty maidservant on Asgard or two, but not in the way you were ordering him. Not like this.

“Take a bite,” you repeated. There was a look in your eyes that he could not decipher. It felt like you were challenging him, and it excited him. “Take a bite, Lokes. Bucky will be a while with those pancakes, and I won’t have you fainting on me.”

You pushed the banana closer to his mouth. The sweetness of it hit his nose, tip rubbing against his lips, and he opened his mouth to take a hesitant bite. “Good boy.” Your hand reached up to stroke his hair. He swallowed the bite he was eating, and you fed him another, then another, until the flesh was gone and only the peel was left. “That’s it. Feel a little better?”

Loki nodded. “Yes.”

“Food fixes everything, doesn’t it?” You tossed the peel aside and let your free hand join the one in his hair. Slowly, you scraped your nails across his scalp. Loki let out a little whimper. “Like that?” He bit his lip. “Of course, you do, because you’re a goodboy,” you purred. Goosebumps spread over his skin. “Aren’t you a good boy?”

“Y-yes.” The admission made you grin. Loki closed his eyes. He would not admit it, because he let so few people touch him, but he loved it when people played with his hair.

“Good,” you whispered. “My good boy. Sweet boy.” Loki wanted to moan. The noise rose in his throat, and he stifled it. Your hand moved down his chest, then to his stomach. Warmth seeped into his skin from yours. When you touched the waistband of his pants, however, his eyes flew wide open.

“Y/N.”

“Hush, sweet boy. Everything’s okay.” Loki shot a glance at Bucky. The super soldier had his back to the two of you, attentions on the pancake batter he was mixing. “No,” you gripped his chin, turning his face back to you. “Eyes on me.”

Loki had asked you once if you and Barnes were dating— out of curiosity alone and surely not jealousy, of course. Your response had been a bell-like laugh, accompanied by the pinching of his cheek. He had not known what it meant. By the way you were palming his cock through his pants, however, things between you and the soldier must not have been that serious. “Oh!”

“That’s it,” you cooed, stroking the growing length. Every movement of your hand made his cock grow harder and longer until he was straining in his sleeping pants. “Put your hands behind your back.” Loki did so without question. It was like there was a force that grabbed his hands and put them there, for he had no idea how his body simply responded to your command. “Oh, you’re a very good boy. So good. What do you think, Buck?”

“I think he needs to cum.” Loki opened his eyes again. Bucky was leaning against the counter staring at the two of you. There were two round, sizzling blobs of batter in the pan and three perfectly cooked pancakes sat on a plate on the counter. Though he remained calm, Loki could see Barnes’ erection through his sweats.

A hard pump brought Loki’s eyes back to you. “Is that true?” Your fingers found the head of his cock and massaged it through his pants. His head lolled back against the cupboard. “Do you need to cum, sweet boy?” His head bobbed up and down. “Hmm.” You massaged with a heavier touch. “What do you think, Buck? Do you think he should get to cum?”

Loki begged the man to say yes with his eyes. Instead, he saw Barnes hang his head in an almost abashed way. “You know that’s up to you, doll.”

“Correct.” You gripped him harder. The same sternness from earlier returned to your eyes. “It’s always up to me. Understood?”

“Yes,” Loki nodded. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good.” You released him. On your tip toes, because Loki was so much taller than you, you attached your lips to his neck and began sucking on the skin. This time Loki moaned hard. “That’s it,” you murmured. “So responsive.” Another hand reached around to squeeze his ass. “You know what? I think I’m gonna let you cum.”

His eyes widened in glee. “Really?”

“Yeah.” His cock spasmed. “You’ve been a good boy and I know you’ve been under so much stress.” Your hand reached behind him. When it came back, there was a bottle of maple syrup in it. His eyes widened as you unscrewed the cap and poured the amber substance into your palm. “Take your pretty penis out for me, sweet boy.” It was not a question.

Biting his lip, Loki reached down and tugged on his sleeping pants until his cock was released. It sprang up and against his abdomen, brushing just below his navel. You licked your lips at the sight. Without warning, you gripped his hot length. Loki moaned. “Fuck! Oh, fuck!”

Your hand stroked his length at a delicious pace. The stickiness from the syrup provided excellent lubrication. “You’ve got a very filthy mouth, sweet boy. Perhaps you’re not as good as I thought you were.”

“No, I am!” He hurried to assure you. “I-I’m good. I’m so good.”

“Really?” You squeezed his member harder. “Are you a good boy enough to come play with me and Bucky tonight?” Loki’s hips thrusted forward. “To let us do whatever we want to you?”

The pad of your thumb was rubbing the head of his cock. Shocks of pleasure danced up his length and made his knees shake. He had not been touched like this in so long. Right now, Loki would do anything for a release, and the fact that it was you made him all the more willing to agree to the terms. “Y-yes,” he stuttered, “yes, you can do whatever you want.” A thrill tickled up his spine as he imagined the three of you together.

“The team will be out tonight, which means the three of us have the compound to ourselves. Come to my room at 8 sharp. I do not appreciate tardiness. Is that clear?”

Loki looked down at you through hooded eyes. “Yes. S-so clear.” Your face softened.

“Good boy.” You guided his head to your shoulder and kissed his cheek. The pace of your strokes picked up until Loki was gripping the edge of the counter behind him. “Cum, sweet boy. Cum all over yourself.” His hips pistoned into your hand. The tingle at the base of his spine dissipated into a pleasure that had his waist stuttering as his cock shot white lines of cum into the paper towel he had not even seen you grab. “That’s it,” you whispered between strokes of his hair, “just let go.”

Loki almost fell forward at your words. Had your hand not moved around his waist, he surely would have fallen to the floor. Your grip on him was unwavering, and he marveled at how strong one mortal could be. He always wrote off mortals as being weak and frail. Never again would he do that.

“Loki?” Your authoritative tone was gone, dulcet tones and concerned look back again. You wiped his hair away from his forehead. “Hold still. I need to clean you up.” You set about wetting a fresh paper towel to wipe the stickiness from his flaccid cock. Once you were satisfied he was clean, you tucked him back into his pants and gave his lower stomach a gentle pat.

“Here, have a seat.” Loki startled at Barnes’ voice. He had forgotten the soldier was even there. His face burned red as it dawned on him that the man had just seen him with his cock out in the kitchen, desperate and pining for release.

“Sit.” Loki took a shaky seat in the chair. Your hands cupped his face, thumbs stroking either cheek. “Are you okay? You’re a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” His voice came out weak, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m fine.” You smiled.

“Good.” His stomach fluttered as you pecked his forehead. He loved it when you were affectionate with him. “Now eat up, and make sure you eat well at lunch and dinner. Bucky and I have to go out, but we’ll be back by eight. You’ll need your strength for later.” A metal hand placed a steaming plate of pancakes in front of him, and he blinked. They looked nothing like the ones he had made that morning. “Loki?”

He looked up at you. “Yes?”

“Did you hear me?” He nodded and was rewarded with a peck on his cheek. “Good. We’ll see you later.”

“8 o’ clock,” Bucky said, by way of goodbye. He handed Loki a fork and gestured to the pancakes. “Those are soft as butter. I’ll show you how to make them sometime.”

The two of you left hand in hand, leaving Loki to wonder what in the ever-loving fuck just happened, and why on earth he wanted it to happen again.

Part 2

Taglist: @auroramae0 @lettersandsodas

#sub!loki #sub!bucky #dom!reader #lokismut #bucky smut #lokixy/n #lokixyou #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #l

[pellucid-constellations]

A Correspondence of Obligation - Prologue

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Princess!Reader (Royal AU)

Summary: Obedience, duty, pristine smiles—raised as the princess of an oppressive kingdom, you knew nothing else. Your father signed your life away at the ripe age of five, black ink bleeding into a contract between nations, fate cemented with the flick of a quill. So when the time came to fulfill the promises you were too young to make, you expected much of the same in the land of Brookshire. But Prince James had other plans, as did the enemies looming outside the castle walls.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: A little angsty but really nothing!!

a/n: Here we goooo!! So so excited to get this series started :))

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

~~

My Princess, 

When you refuse to reply to my letters, it only makes me yearn for your words more. I wonder how your penmanship would look on the parchment from your stationary, how your seal would look stamped on the envelope. I wonder how to become deserving of you. 

Is there a method to this madness you put me through? 

Do you leave me waiting to intrigue me more? Because if so, you need not. I am fully enraptured by what your cousin and the visitors of your court tell me. They speak of your beauty often, and while I am convinced of that, it is the other traits they reveal to me that make me long to know you. 

They say you are kind and compassionate and bright. They tell me of your wit and the few that seem to know you well tell me of your wild heart. Your cousin tells me specifically of what you do when the castle goes to sleep—how you slip through the servants' halls to catch a glimpse of your kingdom at night.  

He tells me that you paint it. 

I have never seen one of your paintings. It would be foolish of me to ask for one. You do not send me your words; to receive your art would be an impossible feat. But it troubles me that no one but your blood speaks of it. 

Why do you not gift the land with your talent? Are you not permitted to? I have heard from some that your home of Hyland sees their women as inferior subjects. Surely as the princess you are afforded more respect than that. 

When you come to Brookshire I will hang your paintings in every room if you wish. I will give you anything you ask. I will keep you by my side until my dying breath. 

I know that we are not afforded the luxury of a natural love, but I want nothing more than to build a place with you in my court. I have been hearing the melody of your name since we were just children, and each year we near the day I will finally get to see the woman I dream of. 

You are an ethereal presence in my life, an incurable ache that will only be quelled once I am able to touch you. 

I ask for anything—plead for it. A simple response. An empty parchment wrapped in your ribbon. Send a squire with word that you hate me. Anything that will make this want for you subside.

I wish for you always. 

Bucky 

Your vanity shook as you yanked the drawer open and threw the letter in with the others. Lady Austeen would surely reprimand you for such unladylike behavior, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. 

The familiar tug at your chest that came only when “Prince James” sent you a correspondence frustrated you to no end. Because Prince James couldn’t be the one writing you such sweet letters, and yet, you were still falling for the honeyed words and featherlight affections. Much to your vexation. 

You had no idea why someone in his inner circle was putting so much effort into wooing you; you were going to marry him within the next year whether you wanted to or not. And it had always been that way. You had always been promised to Prince James Buchanan Barnes. 

If the letters would just stop, then maybe that truth would be more bearable. Maybe you would be able to live with the fact that you could never fall in love of your own volition if the kingdom of Brookshire would leave you alone until the courting period began.

Which was tomorrow, you unfortunately remembered. 

It’s not as if you knew anything of love in the first place; from the moment your mother passed there was no reason to think about it. Your father had quickly become a cruel and restricting man, promising you off before you even had the chance to grieve her. And then the letters started when you turned eighteen. It had been years now and they hadn’t let up—every Sunday. Like clockwork. 

You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a large part of you that longed for them, a part of you that would be crushed if they suddenly stopped. 

Steve used to tease you when he’d catch you reading them in between the castle walls, keeping the words private, only shared with the brick and the cobwebs hidden there. You’d always feign indifference, claiming you only kept them secret because they were embarrassing. 

No one could know of this ‘attachment’ that you had formed to the prince, not even Steve. Because Prince James was just that—a prince. A royal. A man on the verge of a heavenly amount of power that he surely wouldn’t use to send you sweet letters and admire the paintings your father had decidedly banned. 

You could read his letters by candlelight when the castle went to sleep, but you’d restrict yourself to that. 

“Your Highness,” a voice called from the hall, most likely one of your father’s ever-present guards. “The king has sent us to ensure that you are not going to the training grounds with Lady Natasha.” 

You sighed, rubbing the headache already beginning to form with the sun only just rising above the hills. “As if I would ever attempt such an act of treason.” 

“Someone will be around shortly to escort you to lessons.” And then footsteps retreated down the hall. 

“I am simply overcome with excitement,” you grumbled. 

You wondered what kind of lessons Prince James would force you into when you joined his court tomorrow. Your father was obsessed with Latin and poetry; perhaps the prince would enjoy astronomy and ancient ruins. Whatever it was, you were sure you would have no say in the matter, just as it had been your entire life. 

From one oppressive line to the next, this time with a title to go with it—a ‘queen y/n’ to soften the blow of a life sentence. 

You knew little of Brookshire, the place you would call home for the rest of your life. You knew little of anywhere that wasn’t home; your father didn’t like for you to get outlandish ideas of far away places. He said women had no place to dream of such things, not when their duties lay elsewhere. 

A small part of you hoped he did that to hide the goodness of the world that lay beyond his castle walls. That he didn’t tell you of Brookshire because it would only make you want to go more. 

But hoping for that would only bring you disappointment. 

The fact of the matter was that you were a woman, royalty or not. Anywhere you went would afford you the same fate. Prince James would parade you around as his queen during the day and shove you in your quarters at night. He would make you learn the etiquette of his court and provide you with tutors that slapped your hands when you wrung them with nerves. 

He wouldn’t love you. 

That much you were sure of. 

But such was the life of a princess. You expected nothing else. 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes #prince!bucky #royal au #a correspondence of obligation #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

Yay! May I request Royal (Prince?)! Bucky x Baker Reader? And for the prompts, 10 from your MCU list, and 31 from the other list. Also congrats on 200 followers!

thank you so much! when i saw this request i rushed to see what prompts you asked for, and i was so excited to write this! i’ve never written for prince! bucky before and this was so much fun. as always i got carried away and this is going to be a series (mini-series? idk what number qualifies as one or the other).

((this is a request for my 200 followers writing celebration which can be found *HERE*, requests are open for a while so click the link and send something in! or if you’re a writer, take from the prompts and write something too!))

𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ~ 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎! 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚡 𝙱𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚛! (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎) 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

CHAPTER ONE

word count: 1.4k  (((this is sort of just an intro, but the chapters get much longer after this!!!)

     AT THE YOUNG AGE OF 22, LIFE WAS DEFINITELY NOT WHAT YOU THOUGHT IT WOULD BE. You’re not unhappy, but when you think of everything that happened to get you to where you are today, you don’t exactly jump for joy.

Since you were old enough to work, you’ve been helping Peter run May and Ben’s bakery. It’s located just outside of the palace, and you often get asked to make various sweets, pastries, and cakes for events that they’re hosting.

Despite that, you don’t have many interactions with the people within the palace themselves. When making anything for them, guards and servants always come to you guys to pick them up. However, there does seem to be one exception to that. 

Steven Rogers, who insists that you call him Steve. You don’t know his title exactly, but you know he’s basically Prince James’ right hand man. And he’s kind to you. Though a bit higher up on the totem pole, he treats you as if you were equal. In fact whenever he comes in to pick up an order, he gets 2 extra pastries (mille-feuille’s to be exact). Last time he was in, he let it slip that the extra pastries were for Prince James. It’s why he comes to pick them up, they’re his favorites.

For the past 3 weeks in a row, he has come in once a week for the sole purpose of purchasing 2 mille-feuille’s, and a little conversation.

One afternoon, you can’t help but notice that he hasn’t come in yet. And everyone that does come in, all you can hear is gossip about the palace, and specifically, King George Barnes.

Being a bit nosy, you’re finally unable to take the wondering anymore, so you ask Peter what’s happened. He gets a sad look on his face as he tells you that King George had a heart attack and passed away very early this morning.

You don’t know much about Prince James, but you know that you’re pretty much the exact same age. When you were much younger, your parents always told you how ‘cool’ it was that you and the prince were born just 2 days apart. You instantly think back to being 10. You’d lost both of your parents, and were taken in by May and Ben. Now, you can’t help but feel your heart break a little for the prince, knowing just a little about what he’s going through. You can’t imagine how hard it must be to lose them after having spent the past 22 years with them, and have to deal with royal business.

The rest of the day goes by slowly, and you resist the urge to tell customers to maybe quit their gossiping about the Barnes family. Yes, they’re royalty, but that doesn’t mean there needs to be speculation now that a tragedy has occurred.

At the end of the day, you and Peter high-five as you realize that you’ve sold almost everything that was baked last night and early this morning. In order to cut down on waste, for the last few hours you make a game of seeing who can sell specific pastries to random customers.

Oh a whim, you grab 8 of the remaining dozen pastries and put them in a box. A small smile appears on your face as you realize 3 of them are Prince James’ favorite ones. You put the last 4 in a smaller box, and tie everything up with nice silk ribbons.

As you hang up your apron and Peter heads towards the door, waiting for you so that he can lock it, you tell him that you’ll meet him later at home. He asks where you’re going, and you say you’re just going to see if you can drop off the boxes at the palace gates.

Peter offers to come with you since it’s late, but you insist that you’ll be alright.

You nervously approach the gate where 2 men are standing guard. As soon as you’re within hearing distance, they ask what your business is in the palace. The Barnes family aren’t welcoming guests at the moment.

“I— I don’t mean to intrude,” you begin to get nervous, wondering if this was a good idea. “I’m just… Steven Rogers comes in once a week to get desserts for himself and Prince James, and while I know they won’t do anything to help the situation, I thought it might be something of a comfort to him.”

Hearing this, both guards expressions immediately soften. They know exactly who you are now that you’ve said your name. They just hadn’t seen your face before.

You hold out the smaller box, explaining that you’ve brought some for them specifically as well. One man takes the smaller box from you, a big smile now on his face. He introduces himself as Samuel Wilson, but insists that you call him Sam. He restrains himself from telling you that Prince James has raved about your baking.

The other man introduces himself as Clint Barton, and he promises to see that the other box gets to the prince.

“King George was a good man. I met him once, and he was very kind to me. Please give Prince James and the rest of the Barnes family my condolences.”

Later that night when you’re asleep, you dream of the worst day of your life. You’re just a girl, running around the backyard with Peter while Ben watches after you both. May joins you all of a sudden, and whispers something in his ear. By the way Ben’s facial expression changes, and the way they’re both looking at you, you know something is wrong.

May then asks Ben to take you inside, and she sits with you as she gently breaks it to you that your parents are gone. You immediately think she’s lying. That’s impossible. I’m only 10, I’m supposed to have them around for years and years, you think to yourself.

“Y-you’re lying… they only had me when they were twenty, and they’ve only just turned thirty. You have to be lying…”

You always wake up form the nightmare just after your little body collapses onto the ground. 

Knowing you won’t be back to sleep anytime soon, you go to the kitchen to get a glass of water, returning to your room immediately after. 

Just seconds after you’ve closed the door, Peter bursts in, having heard your door open and close.

He’s silent as he pulls you in for a hug, rubbing small circles on your back as you cry. He still vividly remembers the day when he and Ben went with you to your family home, while May was sorting out the legalities to ensure that they’d become your guardians.

All you did was sit on your bed and try your best to not cry. You were meant to be packing up your room today, the home would be taken care of later. But you didn’t think you could do it. 

Peter didn’t say a word then either. He was incredibly patient, even for a 10 year old. He and Ben just packed up your room, and every once in a while Peter would sit next to you and you’d lay your head on his shoulder.

Now even though it’s been 12 years, it still feels like it just happened.

“I’ve lived without them longer than I’ve lived with them. I hate that I’m still like this.”

“Hey,” Peter steps back, holding you at arms length, “there’s absolutely nothing wrong with how you’re feeling right now. And if you ever want to talk about it, no matter what time it is, you come get me, alright?”

He desperately wishes that he could take your pain away. Even before your parents died, you and he were raised together practically like siblings. So you’ve always been extremely close. And once you moved in, you really did become like brother and sister, so he hates seeing you like this.

Meanwhile at the palace, Prince James lays in his bed, wide awake as he tries to fight the tears.

His father was his best friend, but his heart is also aching for his mother. She must now rule by herself, and he doesn’t know how she’ll manage. He understands that eventually he’ll have to become king, but he always imagined that he’d do so once his father was older and wanted to step back, pass down the crown. How is he meant to do all of this without his father there to guide him?

requested tags: @hallecarey1, @thebuckybarnesvault

if i’ve missed you, i apologize and please let me know! i’m still not used to people being asked to be tagged in my things so i might’ve missed someone. 

if you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know via my ask! you can specify with the title of this story, or if you want to be tagged in everything written for bucky.

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes au #winter soldier au #marvel #mcu #marvel au #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #winter soldier x fem!reader #bucky x fem!reader #steve rogers #peter parker #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

[luringfantasy]

Masterlist Marvel

Loki

reader dealing with generalized anxiety

More than Meets the Eye

Sleepyhead

Under the Weather

Terrible Liar

Fearless

Tickle Monster

Divine Mischief

The New Arrivals

The reader and Loki have been best friends for long, but eventually realised that it was more than just friendship. As they secretly step into a new world, the entire team, unbeknownst to it all, makes it their mission to make the love birds realise and confess what they feel for each other.

Loki is treating you like his servant and intervening with your preparations for your party tonight. The next morning he is still acting like a spoiled Prince and you are done with his behavior. Time to teach him a lesson and give him a taste of his own medicine.

Masterlist of Many

headcanons masterlist

dark (noncon/dubcon) Masterlist

Little Freya’s Masterlist

Tom

The Morning After

the marvel cast has a pajama day on set, and no one can get over how adorable Y/N, the youngest and therefore baby of the group, is.

Comfort over sex?

Little White Lies | Masterlist

Clint

World of Trouble

Bucky

Summary: Bucky broke up with you because he didn’t want to bother you with his issues. But after two months of little to no sleep, he caves in and calls you.

the first time. Beefy!Bucky x Virgin!reader

Shy

Shy 2

Til Death Do Us Part

My Little Brat

Bucky and the reader have an argument and she leaves him, Steve convinces Bucky to talk it out with her. Complete smut but they work it out!!

imagine teasing Sam and Bucky all day with your outfit, sly comments and touches, the whole lot. When it comes to the end of the day they give you exactly what you want…for HOURS, so much overstim and degrading

y/n and bucky hate each other, that much is obvious. however, after a chat with steve, y/n begins to question whether or not bucky actually does hate her

reader has always had a thing for her best friends older brother, but she never expected for him to feel the same about her. when she returns for spring break, bucky makes his intentions abundantly clear

Masterlist

Making your very shy boyfriend admit his kinks turns into an unexpected series of events

y/n gets jealous when she sees Bucky talking with another girl at a bar so she leaves and goes into her car to cry as Bucky notices she was gone so goes looking for her and when he finds her back inside the bar with red puffy eyes and pink cheeks, so he tells her beautiful and positive things?

Best friends to lovers, but with a hell of a lot of bumps along the way. Bucky acts like an idiot in love.

You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to wear that

You’re Bucky’s trainee but you have a problem with listening

soft!dom bucky domming a shy!little reader? + a little gentle overstimulation

Pulling Punches

Either boy thinks, “yes, this is my doll. My girl. My future wife!” But somehow she thinks he’s not interested in a relationship! So, in the middle of doing the do meme happens! His response is to absolute reck the reader to prove a point. What’re your thoughts on this

Peter

Masterlist (dom)

Peter is the only one of the Avengers who doesn’t tease you for being a little slow

after being paired with the person you hate the most for a project, heat and tension end up taking over

you swore you’d never hook up with the infamous fuck boy peter parker ever again, yet here you were... in his bed... again

dom!peter parker x reader. smut, dom/sub, edging, spanking, orgasm denial

Stephen

His pet

Then you are having boring sex, doctor. There is nothing better than the adrenaline in the feeling that somebody may catch you. As a man you should especially seek for it, you should want everyone to hear how much you can pleasure your lover

Iced Coffee

Kylo Ren

how he would propose

My Favorite Flavor

leader! Kylo ren x reader with just a ton of filth but basically the reader is a knight of ren and hands out with the other knights and kylo gets jealous

Squirting (Kylo Ren x Reader) / Kinktober 2021

The Empress

Andy Barner

Two Weeks Notice

Good little wife

Married life isn't always easy. Will you be able to solve your problems

Steve

Steve  fuckboy

Steve wants Y/N to use him in her favourite way.

The Compromise. Dark!CEO!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Kept Woman Masterlist. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time finds you at the mercy of a dangerous man with an obsessive hunger that can’t be satisfied.

Billy Russo

Warnings: Just ho thots. NSFW 18+. Dom/sub dynamics. Cockwarming. Toy play. Oral (m receiving)

Spencer Raid

Movie Nights and (rather one-sided) Tickle fights

Coworker Bonding

Dom/Sub

Masterlist 1

"F" is for Favorite Position

A FUCKING BRAT

Behave

cuddles for cuties

life isn’t easy when you belong to the 1% of the world population that has a soulmate, know who your soulmate is and happen to be utterly in love with said soulmate’s best friend

fuck you nice and pretty!

Twitter Link 1

Twitter Link 2

Unexpected company

You're trembling so much

Morning Tickles

he lines get blurred when you go undercover with Nick.

Jungwoo isn’t normal the jealous type, He’s fine with his coworkers knowing you but this coworker seems to know things about you that he doesn’t

Chris proves that all his fingering is accurate.

ow would Tom react if the reader pretended nothing happened the next morning?

Scott knows you love him. He just need to hear you say it.

sirius having you tied up and stuffed full with a plug and a vibrator

Henry and you might not be together anymore, but it doesn’t mean you don’t miss him...

Suit and tie. afab, thigh riding, tiny bit of praise, teasing, mentions of food play

#masterlist #loki #steve x reader #loki x reader #imagines

[starryevermore]

shards of a daydream ✧ steve rogers & bucky barnes

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Hiii! Can I please request a royal!au with Steve or Bucky (maybe both? Idk it's up to u) with soooooo muchhhh Angsttttt? I have no idea for the story tho! - anon

pairing: servant!steve rogers x princess!reader; prince!bucky barnes x princess!reader

summary: steve was the one you loved, but prince james was the one you were to marry.

word count: 1,541

warnings?: angst, pet name (my dove) not proofread

This should have been the happiest day of your life. In some ways, it was. Marrying Prince James, the heir to the throne, the man who will be king, was something any woman in the kingdom dreamed of. And yet, you found yourself wishing that, perhaps, you lived in a world where you weren’t his betrothed.

It wasn’t that James was a bad guy. It’s just...you always thought of him as Bucky, the boy you played with when you were little. Back when you weren’t forced into stuffy meetings and crowded balls, when you could run and play. When you weren’t reminded to “act like a lady”, to always be on your best behavior, to keep your mouth shut so you wouldn’t step on any toes. Heaven forbid that you speak your mind.

When you were told that James had asked for your hand, you bit your tongue. Said that you were overjoyed and that you would accept his proposal. But really, you were dying inside. James was the perfect man—had the best title in all the land, from a good family, wealthy, powerful. He was every woman’s dream. Every woman’s dream, except for yours. 

A part of you felt shameful for falling for a servant, if only because you knew it could never be. You had no brothers. You couldn’t afford to step out of line. You had to think of your younger sisters. Anything you did would affect their marriage prospects, and you would forever feel guilty if you were the reason their future proposals were squandered.

But Steve...He was everything you wanted. He was brave and strong. He stood up for what he believed in. He didn’t care for bullies. In fact, that was what drew you to him in the first place. You were younger, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, and snuck down to the kitchens for a midnight snack. One of the other servants hadn’t realized who you were and began to berate you for taking food. But Steve stepped in without hesitation, knocking the other servant back down a few pegs. Then, when the other servant was thoroughly shamed, Steve turned to you and offered to fix you anything you liked. 

After that, you were always finding excuses to come down to the kitchens, to talk to Steve, to just see him one more time. For nearly a decade, you found excuses to see him again, telling yourself each time it was the last, that you would let him down gently so as to not break his heart down the road. But, every time you went, he pulled you back in. It was easy to fall in love with Steve. It felt as natural as breathing. And he loved you, too. Though you both knew it could never be, you would spend hours talking about a future where you could run away with him, go far away from the palace, and live a life where you two only needed each other and that was enough. 

Those daydreams shattered, though, when you told him of your engagement. 

“You’ve already said yes?” he asked. When you nodded, unable to meet his eyes, he said, “What, you couldn’t have asked to think about it? To talk to me first?”

“There is no thinking when you receive a proposal from the crown prince. If I asked to think on it, my father would have told James I said yes even if I didn’t. You know how he is. It wouldn’t have made any difference.”

Steve sniffed, looking like he was near tears but was trying his damned hardest to keep it together. “So, what does this mean for us?”

“The wedding is to take place before the end of the year. The King and Queen, they want the ceremony soon, as James’s coronation is to take place early next year. I’m to be spending more time at their palace, learning how to be a queen.” You looked up at him, trying to meet his eyes, but he only stared just beyond you. “I’m afraid I have to end whatever this is between us.”

“I must mean nothing to you then.”

“Steve, you know that’s not true. You mean everything to me. But, it’s not just my life that’s effected by all of this. I have my family to think of.”

“If I mean anything to you, you would runaway with me.”

“That’s a child’s dream, and you know it. If I runaway, my father will send his men after us. The King will send his men after us. I’ll be brought back, and you’ll be tried for kidnapping and, and treason. You’d be hung. They won’t care for the truth, they will only want punishment, discipline, consequences.”

“I’d rather be dead than live a life where I have to see you be with another man.”

“Don’t say that. Please, Steve, don’t say that,” you begged. 

“Why? It’s true! Y/N, you know I am in love with you. Is that not enough?”

“You’re not listening. Of course it’s enough for me. If it was just me, I would have left a long time ago. But my sisters, my family, they would pay for my actions. And I couldn't live with myself if I ruined their lives.”

“So you’ll ruin mine.”

“I, I’m not trying. You can still be happy, you find love elsewhere. I want you to find love elsewhere.”

“I can’t love anyone after you.”

“And I can’t see you again after today. I have a future now, one that will take me from here.”

“This is it, then?” When you nodded, he let out a shuddering breath, then said, “Then I hope James breaks your heart the way you’re breaking mine.”

You didn’t see Steve after that. You were busy planning the wedding with the Queen. Taking on more responsibilities. Trying on dresses, figuring out floral arrangements, learning the ropes of being the future Queen. But all you could think about was the heartbroken look on Steve’s face when you left him alone in the kitchen and how you would give anything to turn back time, do things differently, even never beginning your relationship with him in the first place, if it meant that he would happy without you.

James was a welcomed distraction, though. He had truly amazed you. He was witty. Made you laugh. Brought you flowers and wrote you letters. Told you every time he saw you that he couldn’t wait to be your husband. He looked at you the same way Steve once looked at you. He was in love with you. And though you didn’t love him now, he was the man you were to marry and you would learn to love him eventually. 

It had been a beautiful ceremony. It was what you had always dreamed of. The beautiful gown, the perfect music, the most exquisite decorations. It was everything you could have asked for. Except, perhaps, the perfect man.

“I always knew you would be the one I’d marry,” James confessed, spinning you ‘round the ballroom. “And now that I have, I don’t want to be anything but your devout husband.”

“You have a kingdom to run,” you reminded. 

“I have many months before I take the throne. Until then, I will spend every waking moment proving to you that I am worthy of your love.”

“You don’t have to prove anything.”

“But I do,” he said. “I know that your heart belongs to another. I don’t know who he is, but he is the luckiest man in all the kingdom to have your love. But I am a selfish man, my dove, and I want that love for myself.”

“I don’t love anyone but you.”

And yet, you both knew it was a lie. You both knew that your heart hadn’t quite been into this, that you had been dazed and distracted, your mind millions and millions of miles away. You put on a good face, but anyone who got too close could see the cracks hiding just beneath the surface. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, my dove. I will let you mourn your lost love for the rest of the evening but, when the night comes to an end, you will be mine,” he said. “I’ve been patient, I’ve been kind. But I can’t wait any longer. I can show you I’m worthy of your affection, but I can’t do that when you won’t give me the chance. And I’ll never get that chance while you long for another.”

“I can love you. And I will. I just...I got too wrapped up in a daydream.” You looked across the room, your eyes catching Steve’s as he carried a tray of drinks, his displeasure painted clearly on his face. “But it matters not. I’m yours now, every part of me. I promise.”

“And I promise you that you will never regret allowing me to have your heart.”

You looked away from Steve and turned your focus back on James. Huh, they had nearly identical blue eyes. Maybe if you stared into James’s eyes long enough, you could delude yourself into thinking that they were Steve’s. “Cross your heart?” you asked. 

“And hope to die.”

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fan fiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fan fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

[fandoms-writings]

Hiding in the Shadows

Part 1 - Engagement

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Princess!reader (Royalty AU)

Summary: You were destined to marry the prince of the neighboring kingdom, but some people will do anything to keep that from happening. 

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Side character death, grieving, fluff. Hang on to the fluff while it lasts.

Series Masterlist | Bucky Masterlist

You knew when you were ten years old what your future held. That's how old you were when you met him. 

Your father was a king, and the neighboring kingdom had an agreement with him. You were to marry their prince, unite the kingdoms, have an heir, be a queen. 

But none of that interested you at such a young age. You wanted to play in the woods, go on adventures like the knights your mother told you about. Any chance you had, you were outside with other children from the palace, getting covered in mud, and playing sword fights with sticks. 

Your mother and father only had the maids clean you up when you had guests. They would scrub the dirt out of the lines in your skin and out from under your nails. They usually had to wash your hair two times to get all of the dirt and twigs out. You were a wild child compared to other royal children. 

Sure, you had your lessons just like everyone else, they had to teach you to be the queen you were destined to become. You had political lessons, they taught you diplomacy and trade deals, how to spot if you're being screwed over by the other party, and of course your dance lessons so you knew how to impress at any balls that were to be held. But once those ended every day, you ran out the doors. You even would dress like a villager, wearing an old brown cloak over a torn light blue dress, to go play with the children in the town center under a different name. 

In fact, that’s where you were when you saw a grand brown carriage with gold trim and a white wolf head insignia on the back roll through the town headed towards the castle, and you knew you’d be in trouble. You peaked at the window to see two little boys staring out. One blond, one brunette. The blond was looking around with a look of awe and admiration, taking in the sights of the shops and the people. But the brunette, you locked eyes with as he passed by. 

You stared after the carriage, unaware of the cloaked man behind you. The weight of a hand on your shoulder shook you from your gaze and you whipped around to see your personal guard with a black horse behind him. He was a tall, young gentleman who needed to learn how to watch his mouth when he was around you; you had picked up his awful language and gotten in trouble with your mother. 

“Lady (Y/N), you should be at the castle, clean and properly dressed,” he scolded with a teasing tone in his voice. He was half the reason you were able to sneak out of the palace, standing guard while you snuck through servant doors to join the town's children. 

“Well you didn’t exactly stop me this morning, Sir Fury,” you took his outstretched hand and walked over to the horse where he lifted you and sat you on the saddle, swinging up behind you. He chuckled as he got the horse trotting back to the palace grounds. 

“We’ll blame the maids for not keeping you after your lessons, how about that?” You nodded with a giggle as you watched the people you rode past.

~•~

Bucky always hated visiting other kingdoms. He’d rather be at home in the library reading for his lessons or training with his younger brother, Steve. 

But, here he was, in the royal carriage, riding through the neighboring Eastern Kingdom's town center. Steve was always happy to see how other kingdoms ran their cities, so he was looking out the window, taking in as much as he could. Bucky wouldn’t lie, the city was beautiful. Almost as grand as his home city, but nothing could compare to his home. 

Staring at the people in the streets, his eyes found a young girl, staring at the carriage with wide eyes. She was dressed in a torn blue gown, clearly one that should’ve been replaced by now, and a dirty brown cloak pulled over her head. He saw the delicate feature of her face as her brows raised in what he assumed was surprise. Just as she started slipping from eye sight, he noticed a tall man with a black horse in tow, make his way to her. And just like that, she was out of sight. 

There was something off about her, something he couldn’t quite place. Almost as if she didn’t belong there. But his mind was quickly distracted when the carriage came to a stop outside the palace. Looking out the window, he saw two rows of knights with lion insignias on their chests leading up the grand stairs to the main entrance where the king and queen waited for his family. 

He took a deep breath before following his mother and father and brother out of the carriage and up the steps. He knew why he was here, his father had prepared him before they even left. He was to be engaged to the daughter of this neighboring king, to wed her when she turned eighteen. According to his father, that wouldn’t happen for another 8 years, but they needed to become acquainted as soon as possible. The wedding wasn't necessarily a peace offering, the kings were the best of friends; it was just a way to make the two kingdoms and their cities one. 

“King Barnes, welcome!” King (Y/L/N) announced with a large smile, opening his arms for a hug. They were old friends, meeting up every few years for grand dinners and writing letters every few months to each other. 

“Nice to see you and the lovely Queen again,” his father said with a lightness to his voice, “I’m sure you remember my boys, James and Steve,” he gestured to Bucky and his brother, who both bowed their heads. 

“Of course I remember!” He slapped a hand on their fathers shoulder, “Come, come! I’m sure (Y/N) is coming down to meet us any moment!” They followed the royal family inside the grand oak doors. 

The foyer was pristine, the walls a mix of different shades of grey and white stone, the floors were a dark grey smooth stone lined with red rugs. There hung large paintings of the family on the walls, separated by thin red drapes. 

Bucky stopped to look at the painting to his left, the king was sitting in his throne with the queen standing behind him, a hand gently placed on his shoulder. There was a little girl sitting on the king's leg, a wide grin on her lips. Her hair framed her face and she had a sparkle in her eyes. She was wearing a delicate gold gown and matching gold slippers, and a tiny diamond tiara sat atop her head. 

“That’s (Y/N), son,” his mother had leaned down to whisper in his ear. A flush heated his cheeks as he ripped his eyes from the painting and followed the family into the next room. This little girl was supposed to be his wife? She looked only about five years old in the painting, she was too young. 

There was a large staircase that spiraled into the center of the room from the top right corner of the room. Following the line of the balcony, he turned to see it continue across the top of the space, there was a second floor. He could see two figures quickly walking down the halls, cloaked in brown. One was significantly taller than the other, and his brows pinched together. 

“Sir Fury! Is that you up there?” The king bellowed, and Bucky saw the two people freeze. 

“Yes, your highness,” the head of the taller one tilted towards the balcony. 

“Is she with you? Is she ready to meet our guests?” He asked with a smile on his face. 

“Not quite, sir, we are, uh, searching for her shoes…” He replied with an uneasiness in his voice. The king's smile fell and a scowl quickly took its place. 

“(Y/N), come down. Now.”  The shorter figure approached the banister, draped under the cloak, Bucky noticed that same ripped blue gown and those eyes beautifully framed by long lashes he had seen in the town center. There was dirt smudged on her cheek and her dress was littered in specs of dried mud and green smears from the grass. 

He watched you hop down the stairs, a spring in each step, and skipped up to your father before pulling your hood down. Your hair hung loose just above your shoulders, messy and unbrushed. 

“Yes, father?” Your voice sweetly asked, a little too sweet in Bucky's opinion. He scrunched his brows, she’s doing that on purpose. 

“Why aren’t you ready to meet our guests?” His hands rested on his hips as he bent over you. 

“Well…shouldn’t they meet me just as I am?” You clasped your hands behind your back and swung from side to side, blinking up your father. The anger drained from his face as he chuckled. He turned back to Bucky's family.

“This is (Y/N), my daughter who would rather play in the dirt than go to her lessons,” he laughed, nudging you forward, you picked up the sides of your gown, and curtsied how your mother taught you. 

Bucky was nudged forward, in your direction. “This is James,” his mother announced. He looked at you, you were just the tiniest bit shorter than him, and you had an aura of confidence about you as you looked up with a smile. “James, she's the one you are to be engaged to.” 

His face flushed as he looked down at you. You looked to be younger than his brother, so you were at most ten years of age; you were closer in age than he thought. Your eyebrows shot up in shock. “Engaged?” You swung back to your father, “I don’t wanna marry him! He’s a stranger!” 

Bucky watched as your father approached you with a gentleness he wished he would see in his own father. He knelt next to you, to become eye level. “Now, he won’t be a stranger by the time you are to be wed. You’ve got eight years to get to know each other. Just be nice, okay?” He watched you pout with a huff. 

“Fine,” you turned back to him, “but just because I’m marrying you,” you held out a small hand, finger pointing straight at his chest, “does not mean you can kiss me. Got it?” The confidence and slightly threatening tone in your small voice made his eyes widen as he nodded quickly. He could tell you would at least get along with his brother. 

~•~

Over the next seven and half years, James and his brother would visit you almost every summer. Their father would send them to spend a few weeks with your family before they would eventually return home. 

During those years you had become incredibly close to both of the brothers. You learned that Steve teased his brother by calling him Bucky, a nickname earned by his middle name ‘Buchanan’. Not long after you met them, you had picked up on calling him the silly nickname as well, and it stuck. Not once did you ever call him James; it felt too formal. 

Your little trio had been known for running around the castle, causing chaos in your wake. You were the leader, charging into pretend battles in the gardens or into imaginary dragon caves in the stables. The boys would follow not too far behind, one more eager than the other. 

Steve was always enthralled with your imagination and the “adventures” you would take them on, and while Bucky was always a bit apprehensive, he always ended up smiling and laughing before the end of the day. Eventually, he grew eager to follow you through the corridors.

You learned your fiancé was two years older than you, but the age difference never once made him act like he knew more than you. He always let you have your fun bossing them around for the weeks they stayed with you.  

But things changed one summer, when they came to see you and you were no longer the happy, adventure seeking little girl. You had just turned sixteen and the world's gift to you was your mother’s funeral - she had been murdered. The boys showed up for the funeral and stayed at your side throughout the whole service, but they  didn’t see you more than a handful of times that year, though they were constantly trying to think of ways to bring you out of your chambers. To get you to walk in the gardens or walk in the stables with them once more. 

There was only once that Bucky saw you outside of palace grounds. You had gone on a walk on the wooded trail just behind the gardens. He had been sitting on a bench reading one of his books when he saw you step through the gate that was covered in ivy and he followed. You looked to be wandering aimlessly, your dress catching on the bushes by your legs, snagging and ripping the fabric. 

Coming to a stop, you sat by a rather large willow tree, pulling your knees to your chest and burying your head in your arms. It was then Bucky heard the sound that pierced through his heart and made his stomach fall into a void and his breath hitched in his throat;  you let out a sound that was a sob and a scream all in one. He watched as your body shook with the sobs you choked out. 

He wanted to comfort you, to hold you as you let out your sorrow, he wanted to take away all that pain; but he was frozen to the spot. It was when you let out another scream that the ice around his chest  melted away. He carefully made his way to you, a twig snapping under his foot grabbing your attention. 

Your head had snapped up and you looked at him, vision blurred by tears, eyes rimmed red. He watched you try to wipe your face before he could see all the streaks down your face, but he knelt in front of you, gently grabbing your hands, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. 

You wouldn’t meet his eyes, and you tried to make yourself as small as possible as you struggled to swallow the lump in your throat. He let one of your hands go to push your hair out of your face before gently tugging you closer, to which you easily collapsed into his hold. There was no need for words, there was nothing he could say to make you feel better, he knew that. 

He just sat with you under the tree while you let out your frustrations and your pain. He stroked soothing circles over your back as your body shook with your cries. He didn’t know how long you two sat there, but when you started calming down, the air had a slight chill to it and the colors of the sky started to disappear into the nightly pink before the sun was completely gone. Without a word, he stood, pulling you with him, and led you back to the castle. 

His brother had been looking for them in the gardens, and when Bucky spotted the tuft of blond hair, he shook his head as if to tell him to keep his distance, and he listened, watching from afar as Bucky led you to the doors. 

They didn’t see you again for four and a half years; your fathers kingdom was in a bit of a disarray after your mother passed. There was never a good time to have them come visit and with the uneasiness your mother’s murder brought; they still hadn't caught the mercenary that killed her, so your wedding had to be pushed back until your kingdom was stable. You had taken up some of your mothers duties in helping your father run the kingdom as smoothly as possible, you would look over treaties and trade deals looking for anything your father may have missed, and things did start settling and becoming peaceful again. 

Now, you were almost twenty-one and you were on your way to your new home - The Northern Kingdom, Bucky's home. 

You were traveling with just a small group of knights, your personal knight - Sir Fury - leading your group. He had an eyepatch now, losing his eye defending your mother before she was murdered. Your father had stayed behind to make sure nothing fell apart, but he promised he would make it for your wedding. 

You were told that the princes wouldn’t be there when you arrived, they were out hunting with their father, something they did once a year, so it was going to be just you and the queen for the first night. Luckily, you and their mother got along just fine. You were like the daughter she never had. 

You saw the large palace come into view on the horizon as you reached the city gates. The guards let you through and your carriage was led up the main road through the city to the palace doors. You didn’t take in the city like you probably should have, but your mind was wandering, it did that often now. You had let go of the little girl who loved play fighting with other kids, who always came home covered in leaves and dirt. You were a proper princess now, in your maids words. 

The carriage came to a halt and ripped you from the echoing words in your mind. Peeking out the window you saw the guards lining the walkway, like your knights often did when the princes came to see you. The door was opened and a hand was offered to assist you in stepping out, you gladly took it. As you stepped down and the hand of the servant disappeared, you looked up the steps to see the queen waiting with a soft smile on her lips. 

She led you inside and showed you to your room, but everything was really a blur. You’d never been away from your father like this, and you knew you weren’t going back anytime soon, so your mind was somewhere else. But when she showed you your room you couldn’t help but gasp. 

“Do you like it?” She sweetly asked, another small smile present on her face. You took in the large room. There was a hearth above a large fireplace on the far wall across from the door, a small velvet couch sitting facing it with a small table in between. There were large windows with the red drapes pulled back to let in as much light as possible, and a large bed with red silk sheets on the right wall. “We wanted to make it look as much like your home as we could, hence the red.” 

You turned back to her with a sad smile, “It's beautiful, thank you,” you rushed her with a hug and she let out a small laugh as she squeezed you back. 

“I’ve been where you are, moving to a new place where you’re to be married and take over a kingdom, I’ve done it all. I know how nerve wracking it is. If you need anything at all you let me know, okay?” You nodded into her before releasing her. She let you know that the king and princes would be back tomorrow afternoon before she left you to get acquainted with your room.  

That evening you met with the queen for supper before realizing how tired you were from your journey over and you retired yourself to your room for the rest of the night. 

~•~

Bucky sighed as the sight of the castle came into view. He was told you would be arriving before he returned and he was excited to see you again. He wanted to see how you had changed over the past four and a half years. The first year they skipped seeing you, he had begged his father to let him go alone. But he wasn’t allowed to go to your kingdom while it was in disorder. He hoped you were alright and he spent a lot of his free time wishing he could go see you again. He was starting to forget the little details in your face. The perfect little arch in both of your brows, the way your hair framed your face. The little scar on your hand from when you fell in the garden. However, your handwriting was forever etched into his mind. You two wrote letters back and forth every few weeks and he would spend what felt like eternity reading what was happening in your life. 

His father gently kicked the horse he was on in the side to pick up the pace from a trot to almost a full gallop once the back gate was close enough. Bucky saw his mother waiting for them with a large smile. Coming to a stop right in front of her, they all hopped down from their horses, giving the reins to the knights who had accompanied them. 

His father gathered his mother in a tight embrace and gave her an overexaggerated kiss on her cheek before going inside, claiming he wanted to bathe before getting her dirty. 

“James, come give your mother a hug,” she demanded with her arms open and he easily complied, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “She’s in the garden.” His mother whispered before pulling away to see his eyes wide. He nodded to her before walking in the gate and making his way to the grand gardens. 

He wandered through the rose bushes, ducked under low hanging branches from the small various trees, and carefully stepped over the smaller flower beds in search of you. It didn’t take long to spot you, but once his eyes found you, he was frozen to the spot. 

There you were, sitting in the grass, your back against a willow tree, much like the one he found you under that day in the woods - the last time he had seen you.  But this time, your legs were stretched out in front of you, and you held a book in your hands. You were wearing a simple navy blue gown, silver flats on your feet as they crossed over each other. The dress had a silver trim to it as the neckline dropped just below your collarbone. 

He noticed your face had thinned out, you had lost the baby fat he often teased you for and he watched as your eyes, lined with long lashes that lightly tapped your cheeks each time you blinked, scanned the words you were reading before your delicate hand turned the page. His heart was racing, you were beautiful. Sure, you were pretty when he last saw you as a teenager, but that was ages ago. You had grown into your features and you were breathtaking.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he cleared his throat, watching you look up to him. He watched the smile grace your lips as you closed your book and stood. 

“Hi,” he said with an airiness to his voice, it was barely audible but he knew you heard it. 

“Bucky,” your voice was like silk and made a shiver run through his spine. He met you halfway and wrapped you in a hug. You smelled like the roses his mother grew with a hint of fresh baked goods, telling him you had most likely had pastries for breakfast and he was suddenly slightly jealous.

“It’s good to see you again,” he mumbled into your hair and you hummed in agreement before he let you go. He had shot up in height over the past four years and stood at nearly 6’2”, towering over you. You looked up at him, through your long lashes and he found himself lost in the color of your irises as the sun shined at the perfect angle into them, bringing out colors he didn’t know were there. 

“You grew,” you giggled, the sound like music to his ears, and he watched you bite the edge of your lip. He smiled wide as a chuckle left his chest. 

“Either that or you shrunk,” he walked you back to the tree and sat next to you. “Is your father here?” He noticed the way your smile faltered before you fixed it and were grinning again. 

“No, he said he’ll be here for the wedding though,” you looked down at your hands, “he didn’t want anything to happen if he stepped away for too long. We just got the people to trust in our security as a kingdom again and he didn’t want to put that in jeopardy.” 

“A wise man,” you two sat in silence for a bit, just looking out at the garden before he rose and claimed he needed to wash up and would find you after. 

You watched him go before opening your book again, trying to focus on the words as your eyes scanned them, but it didn’t last long before you heard another voice. 

“(Y/N)!” Your head snapped up to see a blond figure running towards you and you stood once again. 

“Stevie!” You laughed as he wrapped you in a bear hug, squeezing the air out of you. 

“Mother told me to wait until Bucky left before coming to see you. Said you two would need a moment alone,” he winked at you causing your face to get warm. 

“We just sat together if that’s what you’re wondering,” you playfully pushed at his chest and he stumbled back with a laugh. He had grown too, towering over you at a height of 6’3”. 

“That’s boring for two love birds,” he put his hands on his hips, “I’ll go tell him he needs to come kiss you if you want me to.” There was a teasing edge to his voice that made you giggle. 

“You better not!” You lightly smacked him in the arm before leaning down and grabbing your book from the grass. “But you can escort me inside if you’re not too busy.” 

He held his arm out for you to take and he led you through the garden back inside where Bucky was walking down the stairs, freshly bathed and dressed in one of his best outfits. He was wearing black pants with a black and gold trimmed overcoat. 

“Trying to steal my girl, are you Stevie?” He asked with a laugh as you let go of Steve’s arm. 

“I could never,” Steve all but ran up the stairs, leaving you with Bucky once again. 

“Supper is soon, will you sit with me?” He asked, his low voice like honey making your heart flutter as he offered his arm for you to take

“Of course,” you placed your hand in the crook of his elbow after setting your book on the table at the bottom of the stairs. 

~•~

The first few days back weren’t too eventful, they passed in a blur. Bucky was off learning more of the role of a king before he had to take his fathers crown, so you didn’t see him too often. Mainly, you’d see each other at breakfast, then he’d be off with his father and their advisor until supper. You’d sit next to each other as his parents went over the details for the upcoming wedding and security measures. 

Just like any kingdom, they had their enemies and wanted to be sure you and Bucky would be as protected as possible. Steve was taking the lead on the security detail and positioning. He was working on becoming a knight, and this was going to be his first big task, which he was more than willing to help. Anything he could do to protect his two favorite people is what he told you. 

You often found yourself wandering the corridors, somewhat learning your way around and where everything was. It didn’t take too long to memorize a good portion of the castle by the end of the first week. You had only accidentally walked in on one of the meetings taking place once, and the royal family wasn’t there to see it, thankfully. 

The beginning of the second week, you were presented with what seemed like a thousand dresses to pick from, all white, varying in extravagance and style. The wedding was more of a show for the people, so you didn't have too much say in how things went or the way they looked, but you got to pick out your dress. For that, you were thankful. You had chosen the dress that had a layer of champagne gold lace over the white fabric. 

It clung to your upper body, the neckline stopping a few inches under your collarbone and the sleeves hanging below your shoulders as they came to a point over the top of your hand. The skirt didn't puff out too much, much like the dress your own mother got married in, the one she had to wear that awful hoopskirt for. The front of the skirt hung just above your feet as the back dragged the slightest bit around you. It was perfect, and you couldn't wait to wear it for Bucky. 

It was your third week there, a week before the big day, when you saw Bucky outside of meals. You were tossing and turning in your bed, restless and unable to succumb to sleep when there came a gentle knock on the door. You sat up, your heart racing. Who would be on the other side? 

The knock came again, this time making you jump out of your bed to wrap a robe around you, covering the thin nightgown you were wearing. You quickly but quietly padded over to the door, placing your hand over the handle when the knock came once more. 

"(Y/N)?" Bucky. His voice was hushed and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, making the corners of your eyes squint as you opened the door. 

He was still in his clothes from earlier that day, simple tan bottoms  with brown boots over his feet. He wore a thin white long sleeved shirt that hung loosely from his shoulders and had a set of strings at the neckline that offered to tie it closed, though they hung down untied. If you looked long enough, you could see the slight layer of muscle through the fabric. His hair that usually sat in a perfect coif on his head looked as if he had run his hand through it a thousand times, making stray hairs poke out in almost every direction. 

"What are you doing here?" You quietly giggled out, pulling a smile from him. He held his hand to you.

"Come with me?" You squinted your eyes and he cleared his throat, "I have something I want to show you. Please?" 

"But I don't even have shoes on," You giggled, crossing your arms over your chest. 

"You won't need them," His voice was like honey and the way he was looking at you as if you held his heart in your hand made it impossible to say no. A small sigh left your lips as you placed your hand in his and he tugged you down the hall. 

You both were cautious of your steps, trying to remain as quiet as possible so no one else would wake up. He led you down a number of corridors before stopping at the door to the gardens.

"Bucky, where are you taking me?" You asked, a light laugh to your voice, but he didn't say anything. He just glanced at you, flashing one of his signature bright smiles, and opened the door. Peeking outside, you saw a trail of lanterns leading to a blanket laid out on top of the grass under the willow tree. 

"We only have a week before we're husband and wife," Bucky started slowly, leading you through the flowers and lanterns to the willow tree, the grass cold under your feet and in between your toes. You sat with him following suit, only leaving a couple inches between you, "I haven't been able to see you at all, and I want to be able to talk before the wedding." He smiled softly at you. 

"I was beginning to wonder when you would make the time for me," You teased him as you poked his side. Laughing, he pushed your hand away and laid back on the blanket, patting the spot beside him. You leaned back, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your right arm around his waist. This was something you two were used to, the cuddling. You two had plenty of times when you would go out to the gardens as young kids and play, growing exhausted before noon, and laying with each other in the grass until you had the energy to run back into the castle to terrorize the servants. 

It was always easy with him, he never made anything feel awkward in your ten years of knowing him, but there was something different about tonight. The way your heart raced in your chest as you clung to him, you could only hope he couldn't feel the beat through his ribs. His left hand moved to wrap around your arm that was draped across him and he sighed, pulling you from your memories. 

"What is it?" You asked, tilting your head to look at the side of his face. 

"I'm not supposed to tell you, so that you don't worry," He started, refusing to look back to you, "but, we have a spy in enemy territory, who wrote back to us. We received his letter just yesterday," He paused to take a waverying breath, "It said that the Hydra kingdom is sending a group of 'nobles' to the wedding." He used air quotes before setting his hand back down on your arm. 

"What does that mean?" The smile fell from your face. Bucky's family had been at war with the Hydra kingdom for the past few years, but they'd never had them come to the palace. Not that you knew of at least. 

"It means that you could be in danger staying here," He finally looked down to you, his blue eyes shining in worry, "Father wanted to postpone the wedding again, have you go back home until we know it's safe. Mother doesn't think sending you home is necessary as they'll just come back once the new date is set." The words sank into your chest, you might have to push the wedding back. Again?

You sat in silence as he let you think about the situation. Sure, it would be dangerous, but when would it ever not be? That was part of being a royal; your life was in constant danger with anything you did. There were always going to be people who wanted you dead or gone from your position of power - it was basic politics. It was what happened to your mother. 

"I'm not leaving," You stated as you pushed yourself up with your arms, hands planted on the ground next to him, looking down at him as your hair hung around your face, "There's always going to be a risk for anything we do, James," You used his first name, something you never did unless he needed to take you seriously, "The longer we wait, the more time they have to come up with another way of pushing it off again or finding a way in or, hell, even breaking down the front gate. No matter where I go, no matter when the wedding is. There will always be a threat to both of our lives. It's just something we have to get used to." 

He was watching you ramble with a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I'll tell them tomorrow then. Steve'll do everything he can to protect us. To protect you." You grinned down at him and before you could get a word out, his mouth opened again, "You remember the day we met?"

You laughed as you thought about that day - you walking in and introducing yourself while covered in dirt. Nodding your head, you went to sit back until a hand was just lightly touching your cheek. Your laughter died on your lips as you looked into those ocean blues. 

"Do you still not want me to kiss you?" It came out, just barely a whisper, but it was so silent out, you'd have to be deaf not to hear him. It was then you remembered the silly words that little ten year old you had all but shouted in the middle of the foyer at twelve year old Bucky. 

"Buck, I was ten when I said that," You whispered back, causing the slightest grin to grace his face. 

"That's not an answer, love," There it was, that nickname finally rolling off his tongue after not hearing it for over four years, sending a shiver down your spine. The first time he called you that, your heart had skipped a beat and your face got so warm you had to hide it in your hands as Steve teased the two of you. It was a silly little crush the first time he said it, you had just started to like him and the gravity of the future for the both of you had started sinking in. Now, it was more than that, you both knew it. 

"You are going to be my husband, you are allowed to kiss me," You giggled and his face broke out in the largest smile you'd ever seen as he let out an airy laugh, wrinkling the skin by his eyes as he slightly scrunched his nose. 

"Good," He whispered once his laughter subsided, his hand still on your face. He pulled you down until you were just a breath away, noses brushing each other. He didn't want to force you, so he let those last few centimeters be your decision. You glanced up at his eyes to see him watching you with his eyelids half-closed. Your heart was racing, you were sure he could hear it, and your stomach was fluttering. You closed your eyes as you leaned forward, slanting your lips against his own. 

You could feel his lips slightly turn up into a smile before he kissed you back. It was gentle and chaste, the taste and pressure of his lips lingering after he pulled away to brush your hair out of your face. He pulled you down once more, his lashes fluttering closed as his lips met yours again, adding a little more pressure and a slight urgency behind his kisses this time. 

Your lives might always be in danger, but you knew that with him by your side, it wouldn't matter. You'd do whatever you could to make sure this wedding happened, and you were pretty sure he felt the same, but even if he didn't, that was okay. You would protect him the way your mother protected your father if you needed to. 

There may always be monsters hiding in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to strike, but in that moment none of it mattered. It didn't matter when he was holding you so close, as if he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go for a single second.

Nothing could pull your attention from him. 

Not even the monster hiding in the shadows. 

Watching and waiting.

Thank you for reading! As always: comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated <3 See you again in part 2. 

#bucky barnes x female reader #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction #fandoms-writings #fandoms writings #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fandom #Hiding in the shadows #hiding in the shadows part 1 #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #royalty!au #prince!bucky #king!bucky #princess!reader #queen!reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry IX

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), mild violence, male-iinduced anxiety

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: The first day of the tournament arrives.

Note: My pupper had surgery yesterday and it was my longer day of work for the week so lots going on. Also had some bad Chinese but managed to get this out before it came back up. Feel better now and I'll have a shorter day today.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Lord Barnes’ mood did not improve in the days leading up to the first of the tournament. It grew colder in the capital and many feared the events would be cut short by an early winter. You didn’t care much either way. You had no interest in the sport or much of anything. You just abided the duke and in those times he left you alone, you laid in a void.

His want of you didn’t wane nor did your despair or the disgust you felt when he touched you. It was one thing to be a servant, to be a tool, a means to an end, but what he used you for now seemed little more than torture. He delighted in what he did, in how he made you suffer. Those times you remained unmoving and unfeeling angered him the most.

You dressed in yellow that morning. The horns announced the beginning of the tournament as you made your way to the stand amid the sea of guests. The wives, daughters, sons, mothers and fathers of those who would compete. You were out of place as you climbed the wooden steps between the benches and a green sleeve shot up to wave to you.

“Dearie!” May brushed past her husband to stop you at the end of their seat, “here, with us,” she insisted, “we did save you a place.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you said quietly. You hadn’t seen her or her family since the night of the feast. Since Barnes had…

“I can’t have you sitting alone,” she trilled as she pulled you along with her and sat beside Lord Benjamin who bowed his head and issued a gentle greeting. “And I always longed for a daughter, you know? Peter’s a good boy but so troublesome. I did try to persuade him not to enter the lists but he just never stops.”

“The boy’s old enough,” Benjamin said, “when I was his age--”

“You married me,” May cut in, “a foolish decision indeed. He is on the roster for today. Sparring. I fear he might not make it past the early rounds but so long as he is not hurt.”

You nodded and covered your hands in your sleeves. Even with the fur-trimmed cloak Barnes allotted you, it was crisp. Your matching cap barely kept the cool air from your cheeks. Your leg shook from more than the cold as you recalled that Barnes was set to compete with the sword as well.

“A fine cape,” May commented as she touched the edge of your cloak, “with sleeves even.”

You looked down at the fawn-coloured garment that only allowed a peek of the canary yellow beneath. You fidgeted and kept your eyes on the field, “a gift,” you lied, well, maybe it wasn’t a lie, or maybe you’d bought it in sweat and tears.

Another horn blew and she quieted and clapped as all looked to the center of the arena. The wooden stands were hung in all shades of silk, the banners of each house, high and low, covered the rafters. By the end of the day, only one would remain. Lord Barnes’ blue and ivory flapped opposite your side and Benjamin pointed out his family's slender red and black crest amidst the panoply.

You were thankful for the distraction, not for you but for them. You didn’t know how many lies you could conjure or if you could keep the false smile on your lips. You clamped your hands together and watched a man in gold stroll out to the centre of the stadium with a cone to project his voice. You stood with May and Benjamin and the rest of the onlookers

“Fine ladies and gentlemen, princes, paupers, and everything in between, we welcome you in name of King Samuel to the Games of Goblets. For each competition, the victor is to be prized a goblet to bear as a symbol of his prestige. For the ax-throwing, bronze inlaid with amber, for the bow-and-arrow, silver set with citrine, for the melee, gold set with sapphire, and for the joust, a fine piece in gold set with opal and ruby.”

The crowd applauded and shouted. The man waited for them to quiet again, “This day, we begin with the melee, on the morrow, the axe, the next day, the arrow, and on the final day, we ride!”

Again, the audience grew rowdy and you were deafened by the cheers. The man laughed at the excitement and held up his hand for a final lull.

“Without further delay, let us begin. In our first round, the lower lords and the untested, before the second where they shall meet our season veterans, and so on…” he gauged the fervent tension of the people, “you will see me again upon the finale and perhaps you will be surprised by whoever stands with me.”

Again, the stand quaked with the energy of the people. You would have liked to sit but you stayed on your feet, afraid to draw unwanted attention. The first pair was announced but you didn’t watch. You stared at the sky or a rippling banner but had no interest in the games.

You only stopped to look as Peter’s name was called out and May grabbed your arm. She squealed as her nephew came out decked in his used armor, beaten out from its former user’s wear, and he unsheathed his sword to face his opponent. When the handkerchief was dropped, you were as stunned as his fellow competitor and the crowd by his swiftness. You’d never seen anyone move so fast, and in at least twenty pounds of armor.

The crowd awoke from their awe and cheered as his sword beat against the other man’s suit with tinks and tunks. It was like a bell, ding, ding, ding. It wasn’t until the other man was on his knees that the spar was ceased. Peter was declared the plain winner and sent on to wait for his next engagement. May wiped away tears of joy and Benjamin grumbled his approval.

You smiled, just a little. You were happy for Peter. You’d seen how joyful he was, he was likely dancing behind the curtain right now.

🏰

It wasn’t until the second round that Lord Barnes was introduced. He walked out fully armoured like any other combatant but his left arm was permanently bent, a shield strapped to it as he gripped his pommel in his right hand. He showed his steel and faced his match. He dealt hard and heavy blows until his opponent was on his back.

You shuddered at his unboasting victory as he wasn’t even patient enough to hear himself declared the winner. You touched your cold cheeks and puffed into the bitter air. The bodies around you warmed the stands but you were chilled to the core.

Peter appeared again in the second, then the third, fourth, and to his aunt and uncle’s delight, he soldiered onto the final. To your fear, he was to meet Lord Barnes. You tried not to squirm, not to show how nervous you were for Peter. You thought of running down and begging him to withdraw but what could you say? If anything, you’d both be worse for it.

As the last two banners were presented to the crowd, you sensed movement to your right. A familiar head of blond hair approached and the tall duke pushed past the row of people along the bench. Lord Rogers smirked as he came close, his sweaty hair drooping down his forehead from his last bout, the one he’d lost to his closest friend.

“Ah, I found you,” he said, “lady.”

You felt May peek past you and you gave a meek “my lord” as he stood close. He looked around you at the older couple.

“You have friends,” he stated, “please, do introduce us.”

You looked down and chewed your lip. You turned slowly to May and Benjamin, the latter peering past her only as he was torn from his fixation on the field.

“Lord Benjamin and Lady May Parker, baron and baroness,” you rubbed your hands together nervously, “Lord Steven Rogers, duke of Astrens.”

“Oh, we’ve heard of him,” May chirped, “my lord, it is an honour.”

“Indeed,” Benjamin agreed, “my lady, you did not inform of us of your lofty friends.”

“She is modest,” Rogers intoned, “we met by chance, really, through a common acquaintance.”

“You were skillful on the field, it is a pity you were bested,” May said.

“Very pitiful, I did put some gold on you, Lord Rogers,” Benjamin added, “alas it was a fine showing.”

“Wasn’t it?” he turned to stand with his arm pressed to yours, much too close for your liking, “however this one should be intriguing.”

“It’s our boy,” Benjamin said, “and your friend, my lord.”

“Perhaps you’d take another bet?” Rogers countered.

“I’ve lost enough this day,” Benjamin snorted, “I’d rather watch and be pleasantly surprised than paupered.”

“Prudence is wise but always so boring,” Rogers mused.

As the lower of the lords, Parker was announced first and you were saved from more uncomfortable banter by the man in grey. Rogers nudged you and bent as the introductions went long as the man with cone went into detail about the day’s fights all the way to the present match.

“I did look fine out there, didn’t I?” he whispered, “good form, even if I did lose. Barnes is in a mood and we both know that makes him… unpredictable.”

You lowered your head, “my lord.”

“You are quiet since last we met,” he remarked, “perhaps your thoughts linger on how else to use your mouth?”

You squirmed and stared at the competitors as they awaited their signal. Rogers laughed and stood straight as he focused on the field in kind. He played with your sleeve and tugged your arm down. He caressed the back of your hand and stepped even closer.

“When he wins, he might just be cheerful enough to share in his celebrations, hmm?” he said under his breath.

The gold cloth was dropped and the two men circled each other, eyeing their opponent cautiously. Barnes was the first to act but was evaded by the younger man. He didn’t not falter however as he swung again. Peter rolled under the strike and met it with his own steel, batting it away so that it nearly struck its holder.

Barnes dodged that time, then the boy spun again. They danced around each other, both swift, both calculating, both determined. Steel met steel but never that which clothed the fighters. May grabbed your other wrist as she held her breath.

Barnes laid a hit across Peter’s chestplate that made him stagger but he turned it into another lithe evasion. He snaked around the higher lord and hammered his false arm. The shield cracked in half and Peter ducked again.

Barnes was angry as he stabbed out. His blade was shoved away again and Peter jumped over the foot that tried to trip him up, a true achievement in armor.

You realised as Barnes laid a flurry of blows at the air that he was angry. The crowd silenced as the realisation fell over them and they watched as time seemed to slow. The duke was losing and he was enraged.

Peter jabbed the other man’s chest plated with his sword then hit his true arm. The sword bobbled in Barnes’ grip but he regained his hold on it. Too slow as Parker struck over and over, throwing him off balance, and sweeping him off his feet with a low lunge.

As Barnes clattered onto his back, the breath went out of him and every other person in the stadium. The man in grey shook away his shock and finally stepped forward.

“Our victor!” he grabbed Peter’s arm and raised it, “the Lord Parker!”

May hopped up and down and hugged her husband. Steve tutted and shook his head. Your eyes clung to Barnes as he sat up, forgotten in the dirt. His left arm was stuck at an angle away from his body and he reached up to force it back down.

Peter offered him his hand and was ignored. Barnes sheathed his sword and offered a curt bow before he exited. Rogers’ hand crawled up your arm and he gripped you. “Well, looks like we both will suffer his loss.”

For once, he spoke the truth.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #steve rogers #peter parker #sam wilson #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #hue and cry #medieval au #au #medieval!au #mcu #marvel #captain america #falcon #spider-man #winter soldier

[peter-parkourwrites]

the rose with metal thorns | bucky barnes

beauty and the beast AU

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.5k

Character Key:

Beast: Bucky

Belle: Reader

Belles Father: Tony

Lumiere: Steve

Cogsworth: Sam

Mrs. Potts: Pepper Potts

Chip: Peter Parker

Gaston: Brock Rumlow

Le Fou: Zola

Monsieur D’Arque: Pierce

A/N: I’m not sure yet how exactly to summarize this. but i’ll figure that out later lol. i hope u guys like this, i worked for a while on it and while the whole thing isn’t finished i hope u like the first chapter. enjoy and let me know if u want to be on the taglist ✨💓 OH ALSO let me know what scenes from the movie you guys would like to see in this because i’m not 100% sure which ones i want to add just yet

Once Upon a time in the hidden heart of France, a handsome prince lived in a beautiful castle, although he had everything he could have ever wanted he was selfish, cold, and unkind. His castle was filled with the most beautiful people, and all things gold.

His parties were lavious, and the village people only ever dreamed of attending themselves.

However on one fateful night an unexpected woman arrived. She asked for shelter from the storm, offering a single red rose for his kindness. However the prince was repulsed by her haggard appearance and turned her away back into the cold of winter. Before the door could shut she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. Her skin and cloak melted away, to reveal a beautiful enchantress.

The Prince begged for forgiveness, but she refused, for she could see that there was no love in his heart.

As punishment she transformed him into a hideous beast, and placed a spell on the castle, and it’s inhabitants.

As months bled into years, the prince and his servants were forgotten by the villagers. The castle was now hidden by vines and rose bushes deep into the forest. For the enchantress has erased the town folks' memory of the royal family. But the rose she had offered truly was enchanted. As the beast grew older, the rose stayed the same. But now in his 21st year, the rose was starting to wilt.

But if he could learn to love another by the time the last petal fell… the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time.

As the years went on he fell into despair and lost his hope… for who could ever learn to love… a beast.

“Bonjur!”

“Good Morning (Y/N)”

“Where are you off too”

“To return this book to the library, it’s about two lovers in fair verona.” You were a romantic at heart, but god forbid anyone find out.

“Sounds boring…” The baker grumbled with a slight chuckle before walking off. You followed your usual path towards the library, hoping for any new books, but you were doubtful because in your small corner of the world the amount of people who actually knew how to read? Well lets just say that number was miniscule at best. You dodged angry market folk arguing about eggs being too expensive and slipped into the shop, the bell ringing just above your head.

“Ah good morning, where did you run off too this weekend?”

“Good morning!” You cheered, “Northern Italy, it was simply wonderful. I don’t suppose you have anything new for me?”

“Sadly no, but you’re welcome to anything else on the shelf.”

“Thank you…” You hummed, skimming your fingers over the dusted and used stem of the books in the shop. Picking out one about a princess and prince you tucked it under your arm, and grabbed your basket of groceries. “See you tomorrow!” You called, as the librarian chuckled before waving you off. Slipping back into the crowd at the center of the village, you began flipping through the pages, absorbing all the knowledge about the characters you could.

“Here’s where she meets prince charming, but she won’t discover that it’s him till chapter three.” You hummed, slipping in and out of groups of people and maneuvering around sheep as the shepherd tried his best, but ultimately failed to contain them all.

“(Y/N)!”

Brock… You internally groaned. Brock was what the village deemed, a hunk. Truly a misfortune since his brain was full of misguided judgements and specific roles women had to play. In his eyes you were nothing more than another one of his prey, a grand prize of sorts to be mounted to his wall.

“Good morning Brock.” You spoke as cheerful as possible, your nose still stuck in the book, hoping and praying he would go away. Alas your plan was to no avail… He continued to go on and on about how you two should be wed immediately, and how lucky you were to marry such a gorgeous specimen.

“If you think so highly of yourself, marry your reflection.” You huffed, glancing up at him through the stray hairs that lay scattered in front of your eyes. “No need to deprive yourself of all the me time you could want.”

“The whole town's talking about it. How a woman shouldn’t read, because then she starts getting ideas, and well we don’t want that now do we.”

“Brock you are absolutely primeval.” You muttered stuffing the book into your basket and crossing your arms.

“Why thank you my dear.” He grinned, causing you to chuckle and roll your eyes. “What do you say we take a walk over to the tavern and have ourselves an engagement announcement?”

“A what?!” You hissed, holding back from punching him square in the jaw. The thought of even kissing this fool made you want to puke, no less marrying him.

“I can’t, I’m sorry I have to go home to help my father.”

“That crazy old bat needs all the help he can get… from the asylum!” Brock's sidekick chortled, his shoulders shaking with every laugh.

“My father is a genius!” You shouted, and Brock stopped his laughs as best he could while punching his sidekick, Zola, square in the jaw.

“Sorry about that dearest, he was only joking!” Brock hissed, stepping in front of his sidekick and giving you a shit eating grin, leaning down close to your face. You coughed at his smelly breath and turned away once again sticking your nose in your book and hoping he would finally leave you be.

“Papa?” You called, as you shut the door behind you. Carefully setting the groceries down on the table you still had yet to put the book down. “Are you home?”

“Down here!” Tony called, and a small pop of an explosion went off before him in the basement. “Not for long.” He coughed, as he made his way up the stairs only to find you rushing towards him, arms out and a damp rag in your hands.

“Papa you’re going to lose an eye like that!” You scolded one hand on your hip as you began to wipe away at his face. Tony swatted away at your hand as he took the rag from you.

“Yeah yeah, what else is new. If becoming rich costs me an eye then so be it. Mr. Richards down the way lost an ear! You don’t hear his daughter complaining.”

“Papa, his daughter is a common whore who doesn’t live at home anymore. Besides it’s not like they got rich from him getting too close to his son swinging the axe. If anything they got even poorer.”

“Woe is me.” Tony gasped, placing the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically. “I see our town's favorite suitor is still trying to get your hand in marriage.”

“If I wouldn’t be thrown in the town dungeon for cutting off his manhood I would have done it already. I pity the poor woman who ends up with that vile creature.” You huffed, beginning to put away the loaf of bread, and vegetables you picked up at the market.

“The baker is still selling his same old bread and rolls I see?” Tony chuckled, sitting down at the dining room table, flipping his glasses on and beginning to work on another gadget at the table.

“Every morning, just the same. Since the very first morning we came. To this poor provincial town. They judge us Papa, we deserve a better life than this. They call me strange, and say my head is up in the clouds!” Your hands waving around in the air frantically as you grip a bundle of carrots in your hand for supper.

“Okay well before we make any rash decisions, don’t go throwing vegetables around the cabin in a fit of rage.”

“They say I’m dazed and distracted, all because I’m a girl who knows how to read!” You huff, harshly turning around to face him. One hand on your hip, the other running a finger through your tousled hair. “They call you a crazy loon dad.”

Tony rolls his eyes and waves his hand towards you.

“Let them say what they want dearest. Your mother and you believed in me and that's all that matters. Besides, they're just jealous. I'm a genius and we're going to be rich soon. Now if you’ll excuse me my dear, I am off to the fair.” Tony stood up and clapped his hands together moving around the table to gather his things together.

“Take good care of him Jarvis.” You grinned giving the horse a gentle kiss to his snout as your father latched the cart to the steeds back. “And you, take care of my boy.” You spread your arms out and wrap your father in a huge hug. He laughs and shakes his head, wrapping his arms around you.

“Of course silly. I always do.” He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head before climbing on the back of Jarvis and riding off, a shit eating grin plastered across his face. You wave as you watch him take the path leading into the woods. Darkness begins to fall across the town as you make your way back to your home, going to curl up by the fireplace with a quilt and a good book.

“Coming!” You called, standing up from your spot beside the fireplace. You carefully opened the door, knowing you weren't expecting any visitors.

“Hello my dear! It’s your lucky day.” Brock cheered, and you peered around his shoulder, a horrified look on your face as the sound of a band played in your front yard to the tune ‘here comes the bride.’

“Brock… What a pleasant surprise.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning away from his face as he leans in.

“Well of course it is. I am just full of surprises. And there isn’t a girl in town who wouldn't want to marry such a fine specimen such as myself you know.”

“I think I could name a few…” You hiss, taking a few steps back from him and he takes that as an invitation to follow you into your home.

“This is the day all of your wildest dreams come true.” Brock fixes his hair in the mirror by the door before turning back around to look at you. Your hands are resting on your hips, balled into fists as you shoot daggers at him with your eyes.

“And what do you know about my dreams?”

“Plenty. Picture this, a perfect wedding. The whole town is invited, we head home to our hunting lodge. And soon after you are with child. We’ll have six or seven of course.”

“Six or seven dogs.”

“Ha and a sense of humor? Perfection. No dear, six or seven children.”

“Imagine that…” You mumble, putting the book you were reading back on the shelf and Brock cornered you between the door and himself. “I’m truly speechless, I don’t know what to say.” Your hand fumbles with the door knob behind your back as you make a quick escape. You kick the door out from behind you, and duck under his arms as he leans in to kiss you. You give a hard shove as he trips and falls out the front door landing into the pile of horse manure you had yet to take care of for that week. You slam the door shut behind you and quickly lock it, chuckling as you hear the band strike up loudly before Brock yells and they immediately quiet down and stop playing.

The pounding of hooves, your own heart beating heavily in your chest, and the snarling of wolves were all you heard as Jarvis carried you further and further into the dark forest. Snow began to litter the ground as your grip on the reins tightened.

Just an hour earlier you had awoken from your place by the dimly lit fireplace, to the sound of shrieking and loud neighs coming from outside. Confused, you pushed the hair from your face and groggily stood up. As the neighs got louder you threw the blanket from your shoulders and bolted out the front door, looking over the hill as Jarvis came racing towards you.

“Woah boy, easy easy…” You cooed, as he approached you, his breathing heavy as his hooves stomped at the ground ripping up the grass beneath him. “What’s wrong…” You whispered, scanning him for any obvious injuries. When you noticed he had none you took note of his missing passenger and carriage.

“Where's Papa? Can you take me to him?” The stallion seemed to nod as he let out a heavy breath. You climbed onto your back and kicked him forward before you even had a second to think.

“Careful Jarvis!” You cried as he knocked you into tree branches as he came to a sliding stop.

The wolves seemed to back off, now frightened of whatever laid beyond the castle walls.

Mustering up enough courage, you brushed the snow and twigs from the cloak that was draped around your shoulders.

“C’mon boy…” You whispered, taking the Belgian horse you grew up with up to the stables. The castle towered over you with a dark presence. You shivered, not because of the cold but because you could feel eyes on you as you tied the horse up to the stalls mumbling an ‘i’ll be back’ as you slowly made your way towards the front steps. Blood caked your right shoulder, ruining the white cloak you had been gifted by your mother before she passed, and you hissed as you shifted it along your shoulders. The wound opened again and you could see small claw marks.

One of the wolves had gotten to you, and you had only prayed Jarvis was alright, and didn’t have any serious injuries.

As you approached the top step you knocked harshly on the door three times and waited… No answer.

“For the love of…” You muttered pushing the door open only to be met with the interior of the castle whose darkness matched the exterior.

“Hello?” Nothing.

“Papa?” Silence.

The only sound that could be heard was the sound of the wolves howling in the distance outside, and the sound of your shoes against the concrete floors.

“You just couldn’t keep quiet could you! You hot headed fool! Serve him tea, sit in Bucks chair, pet the dog, put his feet up.” Sam grumbled waving his wooden arms around the place.

“I was being friendly. You should try it some time.” Steve chided, shooting Sam a harsh glare as he shoved his arm.

“There's a girl in the castle!” A teacup appeared behind the two friends, bouncing up and down whilst trying to contain his excitement.

“Ha! Nice try Peter.” Steve laughed, reaching down to rub at the top of his head.

“No really! I saw her! I really really did!”

“Oh yes and I saw a pig flying out in the garden yesterday afternoon. Looks like we're all finally going mad.” Sam rolled his eyes, turning his body to face away from the two and looked down the hall. “My gods…” He whispered in a hushed tone but Steve still had heard him.

“Is a pig finally flying Samuel?”

“M-M-M-My…”

“Pig got your tongue?” Steve let out a boisterous laugh turning around to guide Peter over to where his mother was impatiently waiting for him to hop back onto the cart, when Sam whipped him back around, his hands on either side of his face. And there she was at the end of the hall walking slowly towards them.

A long white cloak joined at the base of her neck with a red and gold gem, there was a tear in the side of the cloak that looked like a wolf's claw marks, and dried blood gathered across the wound. Steve groaned internally, Buck would not be happy about that when he found out. The dress she was wearing was light blue and it was covered with dirt, a bit of blood and some rips. Her hair was covered by the hood, but he could tell there had to have been a few twigs intertwined with the pieces of (y/h/c) hair that stuck out beneath the hood.

“Sam?”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Why not!” Steve practically yelled, somehow keeping his voice a whisper. “She could be the one to break the spell!” Before Sam can even respond, Steve is already hopping down off the table they were on and making his way towards the mantle she would soon pass.

“Papa?” You called out again, the hushed voices coming to a halt as your voice echoed through the dark corridors. “Who’s there?” The moonlight that shone through the crack in the curtains did little to aid you in maneuvering around the dark hallway. As you turned a corner a gold candelabra was lit up, the light glowing and illuminating the space around you. “Thank god.” You whispered, grabbing hold of the stem.

“I’m not a god m’lady,”

“Who said that!” You shrieked, turning around abruptly moving your arm out to stick the candelabra outwards only to be met with the stone wall of the castle.

“I did!” You feel movement in your hand and squeeze your eyes shut.

“I know a candle did not just talk to me…”

“Actually my dear, I’m a candelabra not a simple candle.” You jump when he talks again, letting him clatter to the floor. “Okay, ow… didn’t your father ever teach you not to drop your talking decor on the floor? You’d think with how well he took to us you would have been the same.”

“My father?! So he is here?” Your heart leapt at the thought of finding him and hugging him as tightly as you could manage. The candle nodded and began hopping off down the hall towards a large wooden door. Carefully, you took a few steps forward and soon he was leading you up a winding staircase, about every floor you passed had at least one cell and you prayed your father wasn’t in one and his room was simply just at the top.

Your heart stopped as the candle stopped and dipped his head slightly, motioning towards the cell. You were freezing and brought your cloak closer around your body for any bit of warmth you could manage.

“Papa!” You shouted lunging towards the door, your hands connecting with his. “Your hands… they’re as cold as ice!”

“Y/N?! You shouldn’t be here! You have to go!”

“Wh-What?” You breathed, cupping his cold face with your hands. Shaking your head you began to frantically search the floor around you. “No no I’m not leaving without you. Who did this to you?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing in anger as you heard the candelabra move closer towards you.

“I don’t have time to explain, but please go now before it's too late!”

“I am not leaving without you!”

You jumped and whipped around as a loud thud came from behind you. Towering over you was a large figure, his face and body hidden within the shadows.

“What have you done to him!” You screamed using the bars of your fathers cell to scramble to your feet without having to look away from the looming figure.

“The master of this castle and these lands.”

“Please, let my father go! What could you possibly want from him! He’s sick and he’ll die here please!” You cried, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as your face grew hot with frustration and anger.

“He shouldn’t have trespassed here then.”

“I wasn’t even tresspasing!” Tony argued, while sick and about to double over due to sickness he still had fire in his eyes. The figure let out a low guttural growl, and you felt fear roll through your body.

“Just please let him go, take me instead!”

“NO! Y/N don’t you dare!” You whipped around to look at your father, his eyes pleading with you, he cupped your face as you held his wrists. “I’ve lived my life y-you still have your whole life ahead of you! You-you need to see the world you-” Before you could finish you were being shoved back a large paw clamping down on your shoulder. You stared at it, horrified, unable to move as he unlocked your fathers cell.

“My dearest…” Tony ran to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Please you can’t do this, you have to go!” You frantically shook your head, not able to even wrap your arms around him, the feeling of betrayal causing bile to rise in your throat.

“Move.” The beast grumbled, and you watched in horror as he grabbed your father and dragged him down the stairs, screaming after you. All you could do was lay there against the cold floor, your heart thumping against your chest as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes. That would be the last time you would ever see your father, and you had accepted that.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #peter parker #tony stark #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #beauty and the beast #the rose with metal thornes #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes au #avengers x reader

[awesomerextyphoon]

Don’t Tell Me

This is for @cockslut-padalecki​’s Not My Ninth Challenge. My prompt was Stucky x Reader with Royal Au and No Doubt’s Don’t Speak for the lyrics.

Summary: You loved them with all your heart, but now you must wed another.

Pairing: Stucky x Black Female Reader, Brock Rumlow x Black Female Reader

Word Count: 1,893

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Warning: Angst, Implied Smut, Threesome, Mild Depictions of Violence, and Forced Marriage

A/N: This might be my saddest fic yet. I hope this isn’t too much of a downer for you, @cockslut-padalecki​. Happy Birthday and Congratulations on 9K followers!

Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​

Back to Masterlist

“Rise and shine, Your Highness! Today’s the big day!” Sabine, your closest handmaiden, announced.

You covered your head with your pillow in irritation, “I don’t want to!”

Sabine sighed, “You have to get up or the guards will come and force you out of bed.”

With an annoyed huff, you got up and stretched, “Let’s get this over with, Sabine.”

You had been dreading this day for weeks. Today was the day you were to wed Brock Rumlow, ruler of the Triskelion Empire. You didn’t want to marry him. He was boorish, cruel, and violent.

But most of all, you didn’t want to marry Brock because your heart belonged to Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes.

  It started when you were six years old. You were sent to Brooklynd to be King Joseph’s ward as part of a peace initiative (you later found out it was because of a failed coup and your mother wanted you safe).

King Joseph, Queen Sarah, and the court loved you. Only Prince Steven and his best friend, James Barnes Duke of Shelby, gave you the cold shoulder.

It sucked because they were the only ones near your age. You tried to win them over with baked goods from your homeland, trinkets and toys Queen Sarah said that Steven would love, and some of your favorite books. Nothing worked until you had enough and confronted them.

Steven was about to enter the stables with James when you caught them. You just wanted to ask why they were avoiding you, but as your mother warned you got violent and socked James with a left hook. It got to the point that the guards had to split up the three of you.

Queen Sarah had an unusual and embarrassing punishment: the three of you had to sit in a circle and hold hands for one hour under the stern eye of the governess and the queen herself. The air was thick with tension until the governess farted. You tried your hardest not to laugh, but you help yourself. Soon Steven and James joined in the merriment.

You were best friends ever since.

 “What do you want for your bath, Your Highness?”

“May I have the Rose, Hibiscus, Black Pepper, Lemongrass oils for the bath, and the Amla/Coconut Oil mixture for my hair, please. Thank you, Ngozi.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

Once the oils were applied to the bath, you sunk in sighing from the nearly scalding water; its warmth giving you a peace of mind that has been denied to you for weeks.

You wondered how it got to this, then you frowned at the bitter memories symbolized by the single piece of jewelry under your pillow.

  The three of you became thick as thieves. Always helping each other in defending one another whether it be fighting off Steve’s bullies with Bucky or telling the snobby rich girls to stuff it whenever they said you weren’t feminine enough.

Joke’s on them because you passed all of your etiquette classes with flying colors.

Though something happened when you turned thirteen; you started seeing your best friends in a new light. You noticed how Bucky’s shoulders were broadening, Steven’s full bottom lip, the dazzling blues in their eyes, or how their laughs.

Sabine, your closest handmaiden, and friend, confirmed it; you were falling in love with them.

You were scared at first; you didn’t want to ruin your friendship with them. So you started avoiding them by spending time with Duchess Natalia and Marchioness Monica as they were the only female peers you could stand.

You would sneak glances at them when you thought they weren’t looking, but they were.

It went on like that for a year until Bucky had enough and confessed to liking you. You were relieved that he returned your affections, but was taken aback when Steven grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him in for a kiss. Turns out they’ve been a secret item for six months.

They both loved you and wanted to make it work.

And it did, for a time. You spent a great deal of time together. Though they were a few close calls since your mother instructed Queen Sarah not to let you court anyone and Steven and Bucky couldn’t go public just yet.

It didn’t matter; you just wanted to be near them. The three of you would sneak kisses by moonlight, write secret love letters, all the fun, and mushy stuff. Your relationship reached a new level when Steve and Bucky presented you with a vibranium and dragon’s gold alloy promise ring with ruby rose and emerald leaves. The three of you vowed to be together forever.

It was pure bliss; you didn’t want it to end.

  “Life had other plans, huh?” you muttered to yourself as your handmaidens were making the final body preparations before you got into your gown.

  Your mother, Queen Ketandu, had written to you and Queen Sarah requesting that you return to Abia in order to complete your studies and take on royal duties. You cried in Bucky’s arms for hours before he had to return to his quarters the morning before your departure.

It wasn’t long before puberty hit you like an airship going at full speed (late bloomer). You became famed for your beauty with scores of suitors, but you rejected them all. Only Bucky and Steve would have your hand.

One of the suitors, Brock Rumlow of Triskelion took it especially hard. He vowed he would have your hand, but your cousin, Samuel Wilson, said to pay him no mind.

You were only able to communicate with Steve and Bucky via phone or letters. It took you four years to return to Brooklynd, but it was not a joyous occasion. King Joseph had passed and Steven was to be crowned king within the fortnight.

Both of them had changed so much, especially Steve; he was nearly unrecognizable. He towered over nearly everyone (only Bucky, Thor, Loki, and M’Baku were taller), broad shoulders, rich tawny pink skin, and a face that could make nearly all the women (and some men) swoon.

He looked like the kings of old, even more so than his father.

Bucky wasn’t slacking either with the way many of the courtiers were ogling him; admiring him for his rugged, yet prim presence.

They were Rulers of Paradise and you were to be their queen.

The three of you finally made love that night. It was your first time, so they decided to be gentle and showered you with kisses and affection. Steve and Bucky worshipped your body as if it was the last thing they would enjoy before the afterlife.

It was as though you were dreaming.

  “Here’s your wedding gown, Your Highness.” Zara, another handmaiden, exclaimed.

“Thank you, Zara.” You tried your best to not let the tears fall. This day was never supposed to happen.

Why did your dream have to die like this?!

  The first crack in your fantasy came with the news of your older brother’s assassination and the outbreak of a civil war. Your sister-in-law begged you to come home.

Your airship was to leave first thing in the morning.

You raced to inform your lovers of your departure. One of the servants said that they saw Steve in his mother’s rose garden. Thinking it was Steve being shy and needing some rest, you ventured into the garden only for fantasy and your heart shatter completely.

In the rose garden under the central archway was Steve on one knee proposing to Margaret ‘Peggy’ Carter with Bucky looking on with a smile and the full moon behind them.

Everything froze at that moment.

Why?! Why did they do this?! Were your feelings a joke to them? Did they ever love you?

Unable to hold back your despair, you shrieked at the ideal romantic scene before you.

Steve tried to explain the situation and Bucky almost caught you, but you ran away before you could hear them.

You left for Abia that night.

  “Now ladies,” Lady Bente, the wedding planner bellowed, “remember, this is Emperor Rumlow’s big day. There’s no room for failure.” She didn’t need to say what would happen if you tried anything ‘funny’.

“I know. How can I forget the threats?” grumbled as Sabine put the final touches on your wedding outfit: an off-the-shoulder A-Line Tulle Wedding Dress, a Hand-crafted white gold Baroque tiara inlaid with pale sapphires, diamonds, and pearls, and matching earring and necklace.

Looking in the mirror, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. The dress accentuated your curves and the jewels made your face glow. You were a vision.

Too bad it was for a man who wouldn’t hesitate to destroy everything you hold dear.

  Barely six months after you returned from Brooklynd, Abia conquered by the Triskelion Empire. Their ambassador informed the council that the empire will let Abia continue as a client state if you married their emperor, Brock Rumlow.

If not, Triskelion would raze Abia to the ground and take her citizens as slaves.

The council implored you as Triskelion forces had Sam captive and Abia’s army was running out of supplies.

With a heavy and broken heart, you accepted Rumlow’s terms.

The wedding was to be in a month.

  You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, “Too bad Rumlow isn’t getting a virgin.”

“Goodbye, Your Highness.” Sabine whispered, “Now, don’t you start crying after all the work I put into ya!”

“I know it’s just not fair. I have to lose you, too?” Rumlow made it clear that you were to leave your old world behind, including your closest friend and confidant.

Sabine pulled you in for a hug, “I know it’s not. It’s been a pleasure and delight being your handmaiden and friend.”

“Alright, everyone! Line up! The wedding is about to begin!” Lady Bente ordered.

You gave your friend one last glance before the doors shut behind you, “Goodbye Sabine.”

  The cathedral was spectacular.

Bouquets of roses and elven tulips adorned the pillars. The banners of Abian and Triskelion colors were delicately placed creating an ethereal atmosphere.

Rumlow really outdid himself.

Dignitaries from far and wide were in attendance. You saw your mother, uncle, Sam, and your sister holding her ten-month-old son.

Rumlow took your hand with a triumphant smirk. You could say that he was handsome if you didn’t want to claw his eyes out.

“You look ravishing, darling.”

“I hate you.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Dearly beloved and exalted rulers, we are gathered here today to join the Triskelion Emperor and the Second Princess of Abia in holy matrimony.”

You closed your eyes in resignation. No one was coming. Maybe Brock wouldn’t be so bad.

“If anyone has any reason as to why these two should not be married.”

Then you remembered how he threatened your mother and uncle when after Abia surrendered. His twisted smirk was enough to make your blood boil.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The cathedral was silent for a few minutes until the doors were blown off their hinges and several guards were flung to the opposite wall behind the altar.

Everyone turned to find smoke and debris. An inhuman roar filled the venue terrifying the guests.

Two figures emerged from the smoke and your eyes widened in shock.

“We do.”

#stucky #stucky x reader #stucky x black!reader #brock rumlow x reader #mcu imagine #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes imagine #brock rumlow imagine #brock rumlow x black!reader #mcu angst #steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #steve angst #bucky angst #mcu fanfiction #marvel au #royal au #forced marriage

[elijahs-wife]

🌙 hey y'all! we're almost at the very end of march so here's this month's reading list, to show some appreciation to all the amazing writers on this site. seriously, you're all absolute angels!

🌙 all the fics on this list are so incredible, please show these writers some support and reblog them if you enjoy them as much as i did! also a reminder to any minors to heed any 18+ warnings that some of these stories contain! 

🌙 and here's last month's reading list in case you missed it!

☁️ the vampire diaries/the originals

↠ clean up by @seraphictrash

[elijah mikaelson x reader, one shot] very very good elijah characterization and just all around spectacular!!💘 you’ll be seeing me rec a lot more of lauren in the future!!

↠ nsfw alphabet with klaus by @theeoriginals

[klaus mikaelson x reader, headcanon, smut] sweet lord this was so steamy and just... 10/10 man. its really that good 🥵

↠ can we make new orleans our paris? by @iliveiloveiwrite

[elijah mikaelson x reader, one shot, fluff] when i tell you my heart jumped when reading this!!💖 its just so sweet and fluffy i could die, also millie writes for a ton of other fandoms pls check out her stuff!!

↠ cockwarming with klaus by @nikmikaelsonswife

[klaus mikaelson x reader, headcanon, smut] read this for the second time and it still made me all 🥵🥵 bc goddamn who doesn’t want a klaus in their bed?

↠ eternity isn’t long enough by @imkylotrash

[elijah mikaelson x reader, one shot] absolutely beautiful, gorgeous writing style and such a warm happy ending, exactly what i needed💗

↠ remember me by @fieldsofmoonshine 

[elijah mikaelson x reader, one shot, angst] one of very few fics that actually made me cry, this is so horribly sad but beautiful at the same time💔

↠ for the quiet days in the the quarter by @klausownsmyass 

[kol mikaelson x reader, headcanon, fluff] absolutely hilarious platonic prankster kol content i will not say any more, just read this😂

↠ prophetess by @seraphictrash​

[elijah mikaelson x reader, one shot] this was so beautifully written!! i was sure it was going to be angsty as hell and it was, but fortunately there is a happy ending😌 lauren never misses, i’m telling you!!

↠ the club by @imgoingtofreakoutnow

[elijah mikaelson x reader, one shot] gentleman elijah content, we truly love to see it😌 go check out annie’s masterlist (and also follow her bc she just hit a milestone!!) 

↠ the notebook by @fieldsofmoonshine

[elijah mikaelson x reader, one shot, angst with a happy ending] absolutely adored this one, i don’t want to say anything so as to not spoil it so pls just trust me on this and read this one!!💘

↠ payback pt 2 by @mayans-sauce

[elijah mikaelson x reader, one shot, smut] oh my god oh my god i remember this one broke my brain lmao it was almost too steamy and good😂😭

↠ you and i by TheSushiMonster

[bonnie bennett x enzo st john, series] found this gem on ao3, don’t think the author is on tumblr but it’s a series of bonenzo drabbles and they are all absolutely incredible and beautifully written. this was published in 2017 but dont let that stop you from leaving all the kudos and comments!!💓

↠ keeping secrets by @imaginearyparties​ 

[davina claire x marcel gerard, drabble] ilana, all of your content is simply top-tier but i must say this might be my favorite that you’ve ever done💖 we are truly starved of davina x marcel content and you are our saviour😌

↠ elijah mikaelson imagine by @alwaysfangirlingish 

[elijah mikaelson x reader, drabble, fluff] an adorable little thing about elijah proposing to his girlfriend, absolutely adorable pls go read!!💗

☁️ marvel cinematic universe

↠ the cracks in our reality by @divine-mistake

[loki x reader, ongoing series] i really had to restrain myself from just putting your entire masterlist on here, but let’s start with tcor. i cannot rave on about this series enough, it is so wonderfully written and loki’s characterization and inner voice in this is like one of the best i’ve ever read. if you are a loki stan and not reading this, you’re missing out big time!!!💞

↠ deny (with love) my labor by @divine-mistake

[bucky barnes x reader, one shot, angst with a happy ending] the other fic on this list that actually made me cry😭 i was so, so moved by this story, it’s so painful and real and beautiful and UGH you are so talented how?? 

↠ the servant and the prince by @dizzydancingdreamer

[loki x reader, ongoing series] okay i am very behind on reading this but i adored chapter one so much!! as if i didn’t love soulmate aus enough, you went and added a cinderella theme to the story?? its outrageously good and i’ve only read chapter 1. pls everyone read dizzy’s story she is absolutely darling and so talented!!💖

↠ peaches by @buckycuddlebuddy 

[bucky barnes x reader, series] i didn’t really care for the dad’s best friend au before this series came into my life 😭😂 (mostly) filthy goodness, and i absolutely love it

↠ i like you better, than anything else in the sky by @ritesofreverie 

[sam wilson x reader, one shot, smut] my underrated king!!💖 i loved this, it was so sexy and sweet at the same time. he could really do whatever he wanted to me lmfao, thank you for providing us with delicious sam content😌

↠ groupie love by @burninmatches 

[bucky barnes x reader, one shot, smut] this is the first time i’ve ever read a rockstar!bucky au but god is it good!! so well written, so undeniably hot and i hate that i love how smug and douchey bucky is in this one😭😂

↠ oasis by @bubblebuckys 

[bucky barnes x reader, drabble, smut] when i tell you this made me gasp... i’m not even joking, this was just pure filthy goodness and i am so here for it🥴

↠ knife talk by @tripleyeeet 

[loki x reader, one shot, fluff] so cute and honestly so funny, i love that loki wasn’t mad at her either however i will not stand for the bucky slander lmao i refuse to believe he’s a bad kisser😂😭

↠ debt-free by @stormquill

[tony stark x reader, series] i’ve recently been on a bit of a tony streak and this,,, this really hits the spot🥴 only read the first chapter but i can’t wait to read the rest!! 

↠ study date by @wand3ringr0s3

[peter parker x reader, one shot, fluff] i love my spidey so much and this is just such a cute fic!! like i was yearning for it to be real the whole time💘

☁️ chris evans + his characters

↠ you won’t play, you’re no fun by @gyllenhaalstories

[chris evans x reader, one shot, smut] professor!chris absolutely owns this 🐱 that man could order me around all day every day and you know i would obey him💀

↠ little doves don’t cry by @ritesofreverie 

[steve rogers x reader x andy barber, one shot, smut] excuse me this was so fucking hot and for what. for what. who thought it would be a good idea to put a steve and andy 3some fantasy in my head😐

☁️ miscellaneous

↠ air conditioning universe by @darthamidalas

[javier peña x reader, series] honestly can’t believe i only found this series like 2 days ago but i’m so glad i did bc it’s some of the best writing for peña that i’ve ever read, no joke!!💗

↠ settle by @duskholland

[tom holland x reader, one shot, smut] i already love tom... add a mob au and i’m an absolute goner. this was genuinely so fucking hot and i can’t deal with it i can’t😩

lastly, thank you to everyone here for sharing your stories with us! the world is so much better with wonderful fanfiction authors like yourselves in it 💖 i am immensely grateful to all of you! xx tay

#elijahs-wife reading list #march reading list #pls reblog all these amazing stories!! #give them the recognition they deserve!! #also i hope all the links i didnt check every single one