#king!steve rogers x reader fanfiction

[justiceiswater]

It’s not a punch in the face, but it’s pretty darn close! A good ole’ one-two from Thor and reader! He is gonna be so wrecked when they refuse him entry into her rooms. And I think some suffering on his part will do them good!

Pseudo Princess Pt.12

A Special Delivery

10/26/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader         Word Count: 5,520

Warnings: talk of sex, angst, jealousy, violent images, language

A/N: I will come back and add tags after I eat. I’m hungry. And tags take forever. This one will answer a few of the questions I’ve been getting. The next one will answer more. I hope you like it. Let me know what you all think! I read EACH and EVERY comment. There have been a lot lately and I haven’t been able to respond to all of them but be aware that I see them. I read them. I love them. They mean so much. Thank you! If you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work.

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the pained peace treaty

fused with the foe, chapter one

a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.

summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury

word count: 4813

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“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”

“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”

A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”

Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”

“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”

“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”

Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”

“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.” 

Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat. 

Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms. 

As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum. 

You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude. 

A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow. 

“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival. 

Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”

Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”

“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”

When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”

“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”

“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”

“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”

Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”

“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake. 

Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”

“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”

As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge. 

Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her. 

Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother. 

Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired. 

“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.

“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were. 

“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”

“What did you expect?”

Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.” 

Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop. 

The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage. 

Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”

“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.

“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”

Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”

He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside. 

Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour. 

Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures. 

Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you. 

“Hey, Barnes?”

Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”

“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”

“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”

“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”

“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone. 

Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”

Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”

Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows. 

“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?” 

“Of course, your highness.” 

“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”

Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”

“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”

“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”

“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.

Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”

With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours. 

A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh. 

You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely. 

The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle. 

The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue. 

Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you. 

“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.” 

Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.” 

And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.

The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers. 

As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends. 

When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame. 

“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once. 

Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.” 

“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”

A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”

It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen. 

Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you. 

The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below. 

But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter. 

The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow. 

“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?” 

“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone. 

Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.” 

“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress. 

When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.

First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”

Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric. 

His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor. 

“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”

“Oh…” was all he breathed. 

“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”

“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer. 

“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”

“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.” 

A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”

Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”

Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left. 

Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[stuckyslut8]

Tastes like strawberries.

Masterlist.

Pairing: chubby baker bucky x mob reader x mob steve.

Summary :your sweet boyfriend bucky is stuck in a tight spot between you and your rival steve rogers.

Warning : 18+ under the cut, minors dni, smut, fluff, oral receiving, anal, kind of cheating.(poly).typos.

"ughh bucky.." you moaned as bucky sucked on your clit, teasing your sensitive nub, "fuck I'm I'm gonna come baby."

Bucky looked up from where he was, still on his knees in the middle of your office as he gave you his wicked smile. "Come for me sugar."

You came on cue, letting out a loud moan as bucky worked on 'eating his favorite dessert '. You leaned further back in your chair, in exhaustion from the fifth time he's made you come using his fingers and mouth.

You see bucky only came here to drop off your favorite red velvet cupcakes,but of course it wasn't free ,you had to pay for it by letting him eat 'his pussy'. You'd told him you only had about an hour before you had to meet steve to discuss about your new shipment. So bucky got straight to work, 'that's more than enough time sugar, think we could beat our record this time?'

And who were you to deny your sweet baker boyfriend his favorite meal. So here you were panting for breath as he was finally done and cleaned you up just in time as steve knocked on your door. "Just a minute rogers. "

You qucikly pressed a kiss to your favorite baker, thanking him for the cupcakes, "of course sugar , meet ya tonight."

You gave his ass a pat as he walked out, but it was not just you who had your eyes on his cake, the one and only steve rogers too was watching watching the sweet baker go.

"Come in steve." Steve entered with a knowing smirk on his face, "that your new toy sweetheart?" He asked sitting down on the big cozy chair.

"Shut up rogers,he's just my delivery boy ,came to give me my favorite cupcakes." You said motioning towards the box , steve eagerly took one and had a bite ,he moaned at he taste of it.

"Mmph it's really good sweetheart, wish i had a sweet delivery boy who came to my office in the middle of the day, to give me sweet cupcakes and a pussyjob, or in my case a blowjob, i bet he'd like that." Steve saw your eyes widening, "oh come on you don't think i'd know that you've been fucking that sweet baker boy from brooklyn, it's my territory after all."

"No it's not yours..and who i fuck is none of your business. " you said pouring yourself and steve each a glass of whiskey.

"Hmm such a shame, I'd love to make him ride my cock while you got yourself off watching us, wouldn't that be a dream, pretty girl." You'd be lying if you said Steve's words didn't turn you on, or make you imagine the scenario vividly in your head , but you can't do this now.

"Keep your dirty hands off of him...let's talk business, that's what you're here for."

"Alright then ." the blonde said downing his whiskey.

You got home after the long day to find bucky on the couch, "welcome home sugar." He stood up to give you a longing kiss. "I ordered us pizza for dinner it'll be here in 10."

"Hmm i don't think i can wait until then , I'm hungry.." you pouted to your six foot boyfriend, hands grabbing his soft belly ,giving it a squeeze.

"Oh maybe i can make you something in the meantime- " his words died down as he saw tou drop to your knees and pulling down his sweatpants, "I'm hungry for your cock daddy." Bucky's mouth formed an o in realizing your words.

"Uh of course you can always have my cock prettygirl." He said blushing.

You got to work right then, making your boyfriend see heaven as he came thrice by the time the pizza arrived.

"I uh I'll go get it." Bucky hasitly pulled up his pants as he went to get the pizza knocking down some things on his way. 'Such a sexy clumsy man' you thought.

"oh and bucky." You said as you were eating rhe pizza, "did steve come to the bakery recently ?"

Bucky almost choked on the drink he was having ,"uh steve? The blonde guy at your office today sugar?" He enquired .

"Yeah that guy."

"Uhm no sugar." He said ,like a liar as he thought about that night, a week ago when the blonde mobster decided to 'visit' his bakery at the time of closing it was almost 9, with no one around.

He somehow convinced bucky into having a drink at his bar, saying he needed to discuss some important things about your safety , and bucky being the good boyfriend he is of course agreed.

Bucky didn't miss the way the blonde's eyes raked all over his body and he'd be lying if he said he didn't check out Steve's spectacular ass in those tight jeans .

Steve told him some bullshit story about the mobsters in newyork ...and went on to flirt with bucky shamelessly.

One thing led to another, and he ended up in Steve's place, sucking his cock like a gold boy.

"Oh fuck ,i knew y/n kept you around for a reason bucky aghh..you're so good keep going pretty boy. " he said as he came in bucky's mouth.

And ended up fucking bucky on his bed all night, making bucky cry in pleasure.

"Oh i know prettt boy, you're tight asshole hasn't been fucked like that in a long time ,has it?" Steve showered him in praises and told him about how much of a good boy bucky is, taking him so well in his tight hole.

Bucky never spoke of that night to anybody, he knew it was wrong getting involved with your rival, he knew how dangerous it was too. But he liked the thrill, and loved how Steve's big cock split him open. He hoped it would be a one time thing that never happened again.

But steve's got other plans.

[ronearoundblindly]

Okay, so, hear me out.

I know I've got a Beauty and the Beast AU coming for skinny!Steve, but @darsynia gave me/let me have this idea of a Cinderella AU with him, too, except he is the Cinderella character who gets transformed to live his dream for a day.

I present to you the setup of:

*All photos from Pinterest

Steven is the only child of an exiled prince, and due to happenstance of the aged Warrior King Phillips having no male heir of his own, Steve becomes true royalty overnight.

His cousins, Princesses Margaret and Sharon, angry at the circumstance of their demotions at court, offer no help to the young, small, and often sickly new king.

No one is allowed to see him until his coronation. The few knights and advisors who have laid eyes on Steve are sworn to secrecy, and though he has a mind for strategy, Steve is burdened by his appearance.

Given the coronation crown the night before the big ceremony, Steve stares deep into the massive yellow gem at its front and wishes to look like the "ruler they all want to see."

And he does.

He wears the heavy crown easily, he stands tall over most of the court, and he carries a heavy, steel sword at his hip for the first time ever without the blade dragging across the stone floor.

The court is elated. No one looks twice, not even the handful of men who knew, but that's the magic of the stone...

Steve meets a seemingly endless stream of people, but the most curious is the apprentice of King Phillips' military advisor, a young man he saw befriending a stray cat in the courtyard while everyone else ogled and angled for him. The apprentice's eyes...there's just something about them...

After a long celebration feast where he charmed the nobility with humility, practicality, and honor, Steve falls asleep small again, but certain he can win over the whole realm if he can simply be known for his actions, not his physique.

That becomes the plan; Steve will work behind the scenes, make the kingdom better for people high and low, and then he'll be loved and accepted for who he is. In the meantime, he, in his natural form, can act as a sort of messenger or page boy 'for King Steven' and move around freely. Why not? They all are on the lookout for a man standing two hands higher and broader than him.

One of his first visits is to his inherited military advisor. Of course, Steve doesn't expect the apprentice to live inside the family home, possibly somewhere on the estate maybe, but after a long ride to get there and a long discussion while sitting in the man's study, Steve asks if he might walk the garden before leaving.

He asks about the woman by the roses, and his advisor simply replies "that's my daughter."

Of course, he won't bother to introduce him. Steve's an untitled nobody like he's been his entire life thus far.

Steve might not have seen the resemblance, truly, if not for the exact movement of your finger to gently lift a wilting petal back into place.

It's the move the apprentice made when scratching beneath the cat's chin, and he'll never forget that smile.

"You," he blurts, startled at the otherwise drastic change in your appearance.

You jump back before composing yourself, shielding your eyes from the bright sun above as you look him over.

He's more alarmed by your curtsy than you are by him, watching you bow deeply where moments ago your father dismissed him offhand.

"Your Majesty," you say to the ground.

You...

You recognize him like this? How? How is that possible?

His wish was granted. They all saw a perfect soldier, but that's just the thing: you didn't want to be ruled by a perfect soldier.

You wanted a good man.

You, who secretly longs to offer more to your father and family than a bartering chip for marriage, same as his cousins, need the king to be a good man because then he'll understand this...

A/N: Ok, full disclosure, I might already be very protective of this one, so we'll see if I can bring myself to put it all out there. Anyway! Thank you for the gif, Brandy! It was a great opportunity to get this down.

Also, if it's just an idea/intro, do I include the taglist? Idk. I hate pinging y'all if it's not like a lot of content.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[buckets-and-trees]

Cedar Trees

a collection of Royal AU stories centered around a King Steve Rogers and Queen!Reader

You came into this betrothal to Steve Rogers, King of York, with no illusions to the situation – yours was a marriage to ensure the continuation of many generations of alliance and peace between your respective kingdoms. It was your duty as the second-born. Very early, however, you learn what your royal union truly means to you both, and it's more than either of you expect.

Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] politically arranged marriage, reluctant pining, SMUT (rough fucking and fluffy and intimate sexual situations)

AUTHOR NOTE: The setting for this is a semi-Georgian era in a loose version of a North America based in no reality, only aesthetic and general royal protocols of the time.

ADDITIONALLY: I actively and eagerly accept questions about this AU as well as requests - asks I can get to fairly quickly, requests may take me longer. I know their general story, but I have no agenda for a plot for them, so I'm willing to fulfill requests based on what people would like to see in this couple's story.

ORIGINAL FOUNDATION PIECE: Fire Burning From a Cedar Tree

Release Order:

Fire Burning From a Cedar Tree [3.4k]

The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are [1.2k]

Winter Solstice (response to an ask)

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts [1.3k]

A Shift in the Morning Routine [1.1k]

Love That's Laid Beside Me [5k]

The Silence of the Hushed Sublime [4.8k]

Chronological Order:

The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are

Fire Burning From a Cedar Tree

A Shift in the Morning Routine

Winter Solstice (an ask that plays into their narrative)

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

Love That's Laid Beside Me

The Silence of the Hushed Sublime [4.8k]

Extras:

what if Cedar Trees was also an omegaverse?

ask re: kinks and physical intimacy

Resources:

Collection Cover by me

Divider by @firefly-graphics / #evansyhelp

[talesofadragon]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝

Synopsis: The Kingdom of Brooklyn needs a queen, and the Royal Council needs a noble princess. As for newly crowned King Steven Rogers, he needs a love that rebels against conformity, granting him the solace he yearns for. So what happens when all he needs is not what his kingdom wants?

Pairing: King!Steve Rogers x Chambermaid!Reader

Warnings: None.

Genre: Angst | Fluff

Word Count: 6.1K

Author’s Notes: Requested by the sweetest @crazyunsexycool. Thank you, Val, for this wholesome idea! To all Marvel fans out there, go check out her incredible work!🩵

All Masterlists | Steve Rogers Masterlist

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 and deceiving word in history will evermore be art. At first glance, it’s enticing, delicate, and memorable. A barrage of emotional responses to the tragedies and the grievances of life. Whether in color or in monochrome, in words or emotions, art is a melodrama that lures you in, pulls you toward its undertow. Until there comes a time when you realize that all these stories were never quite this scintillating, they just were. 

“Your Majesty.” 

Steve shakes his head as the voice registers in his mind. It takes him a fleeting moment, about five seconds, to realize that he stands within the confines of his chambers. The vibrant rays of the morning sun cascade through the windows, casting an ardent glow. Another five minutes elapse as Steve blinks away his confusion, his gaze withdrawing from the withered pages of his sketchbook, evidence of the relentless assault of his charcoals and ink.

“Maiden Katherine,” he acknowledges the chambermaid in his room. Her eyes are downcast, evading his cerulean hues. “Pardon me, what was it that you said?”

The young woman gasps, though covers it quickly with a cough. Her errant gaze lands briefly on Steve before it strays away once more. “Your Majesty, I was merely asking if you needed anything more.”

A fleeting furrow emerges between Steve's eyebrows, and he casts a swift glance around the room. To his surprise, he finds it immaculate, untouched by the tumultuous night he had spent, forming dents in his rugs and battling wars within the confines of his sheets. 

As Steve turns his gaze toward Maiden Katherine, a gentle smile graces his lips. Unable to discern the woman's face due to her position, he finds himself succumbing to a glimmer of hope, however fleeting and insubstantial. Within the recesses of his imagination, he relishes the liberty to conjure an image of someone entirely different, a figure who embodies the yearnings of his heart.

“No,” he says, somewhat resentfully. Because his needs are conditional, and what he truly desires cannot be attained beyond the realm of his mind. “That will be all. Thank you.”

Maiden Katherine dutifully bows to her king, leaving him to his own devices. As soon as the door closes, Steve reaches back to trace the somber outlines of his sketchbook. Once more, his mind veers away from the confines of his chambers, transporting him to a realm far brighter.

SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO 

King Joseph and Prince Steven are a juxtaposition.

The King is the valiant moon. The Prince is the selfless sun. The former breathes preservation and prowess, while the latter longs for equilibrium and benevolence. And no matter their dualism, King Joseph sees otherwise, constantly building bridges upon bridges to force his son to concede and meet him. Not in the middle, but where he stands—light years away. 

Steve, though ten years old, has a keen sense of understanding. His mother, Sarah, never misses a chance to remind him that he’s a whirlwind for this world, and he couldn’t possibly disagree. 

When, like today, the pressures of the crown seem too hard to grapple with, Steve decides to step away. Not forever. Just a little while, until he’s able to face them all again. 

He’s at the Royal Gardens, a place he hasn’t visited since last spring after his allergies restricted him to his room. Now, almost a year later, he comes back, disappointed to see that his favorite tree has grown faster than he has. 

Steve approaches it, hands on hips and lips pursed in thought. How am I supposed to climb it now? he asks himself. He wishes Bucky was here, but he knows his best friend has sparring lessons, so he tries his very best to follow his own lead and climb it. 

He tries to climb, and he manages to pull himself up, but three branches and a half are more than enough to steal his breath. He sighs, seeing that he can’t climb higher. His hands ache from the effort. 

Just as Steve contemplates his next move, a small voice calls out, “What are you doing up there, silly?” Startled, he turns his gaze downward, meeting a pair of eyes that feel both familiar and unknown. 

“Who are you?” he asks the young girl in the blue dress. He knows she’s not a princess from the fabric’s quality, though her charming face suggests otherwise. 

“I asked you first.” 

Steve laughs at the girl’s spirited nature. “I am sitting.” She narrows her eyes, unsatisfied with his response. “I like sitting up here. The tree overlooks the castle grounds. It’s nice.”

The girl hums, accepting his answer. She looks up and then around before meeting his eyes again. “Do you care for some company?” 

Steve would normally say no. Aside from Bucky, he doesn’t like to spend time with anyone. But the little girl seems nice and curious, something he decides that he likes about her. So he nods his head.

He watches the faint smile on her lips as she holds tightly to the nearest branch and places her weight on it. Within a couple of seconds, she perches herself on the branch facing him.

“Hi.” 

“Hi!” she giggles, kicking her feet in the air. Now that she’s closer, he can see that she’s much smaller than him. A few years younger too. He watches her lean against the tree’s trunk, gazing around with pure wonder. “You’re right. It is quite nice here.” 

Steve shares a laugh with her before speaking again. “Who are you?”

“I’m Y/N,” she announces confidently. He likes it. Both her name and her attitude. “And you?” 

He bites the inside of his cheek. Steve has been conditioned to answer this question in one way only: Crown Prince Steven Grant Rogers of Brooklyn. But he’s scared that if Y/N hears this, she might jump down and leave him alone. 

He thinks she’s adorable and kind. Definitely someone Bucky is going to like. So, instead, he says something else. Something he’s never said to anyone. “I’m Steve.” 

“Nice to meet you, Steve! How old are you?” 

“I’m ten,” he replies apprehensively. He knows that he looks much younger because of his height and weight.

Y/N seems to disagree, marveling at his answer. She beams, kicking her legs higher. “I’m six. Is it nice to be ten? My momma says the number ten is a two-digit number, so it’s bigger than six.” 

Steve barely blinks before a soft chuckle escapes his lips. He leans forward a little bit, making sure not to fall. Y/N is sitting there with anticipation governing her features, eagerly waiting for an answer. 

“It’s nice. I can retire to bed a bit later than usual.” That seems to satisfy Y/N, who claps excitedly in response. “I have never seen you before,” Steve then remarks.

Y/N hums. “My momma is Queen Sarah’s new chambermaid. I came to the castle with her.” 

“Oh.” 

Y/N nods. “And you? Does your momma work here, too?” 

“Somewhat, yes,” Steve replies. A comfortable silence stretches for a while, both kids hidden amongst the tree branches, listening to the humming of the birds and the voices of the wind. 

The birds fly around, some even landing atop the tree and catching Y/N’s attention. She marvels at them, then she suddenly stands up, looking at Steve. 

“It must be nicer up there for the birds to sit. Shall we go see?”

Steve hesitates. His blue eyes fill with apprehension as they count the number of branches left. There are six in total, two more than there were last spring. The tree is not too far from the ground, yet high enough for Steve to break his bones if he decides to venture up. 

“I can’t climb that high,” he sighs dejectedly. 

Y/N cranes her head to study Steve’s face. “Do you want to?” she asks to which he nods. “Then of course you can. You simply need a little help.” 

She says it so lightheartedly and surely, it makes Steve’s heart soar. Y/N braces herself and climbs one more branch. She extends her hand, palm open for Steve to take. He hesitates, knowing he shouldn’t and that his father will surely scold him for his actions. 

Y/N shakes her hand once, silently asking him to take it. Without thinking much, Steve does. Two minutes later, he finds himself atop the tree with two birds and a new friend. 

PRESENT DAY

Steve exhales loudly, his gaze fixed upon the tree etched within the pages of his sketchbook. He traces the delicate curves with his eyes, although he knows them by heart. Every intricate detail is etched into his memory from the countless days spent perched upon the tree’s branches alongside Y/N.

With a wistful glance, he closes the sketchbook and casts it aside, a reminder that before this artful piece and the memories it holds existed, there only ever was an unadorned tree.

“Your Majesty, I can say with absolute certainty that if you continue to wear that expression, it won't be long before the entire court assumes the Robe Bearers have skillfully concealed a stick within your regal attire.” 

“Bucky,” Steve grumbles. Though when he catches his reflection in the mirror, he relents, knowing his best friend, and Lord High Constable, isn’t all too wrong. He raises his hand to dismiss his attendants. They bow and exit, leaving the two men alone. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be anywhere else?” 

Dramatically as always, Bucky covers his heart with his palm. He looks down, seemingly wounded, before his cobalt blue eyes lift. “I am deeply wounded by your implicit dismissal and your forthright irritation, My King.” 

Steve rubs a hand down his face. He has endured twenty-seven years with this man, and sometimes, he wonders if befriending Lord James Buchanan Barnes was a good idea. He knows him all too well now. And if those remarks are any indication, Bucky is, without a doubt, mere seconds away from asking him what’s wrong. 

So Steve speaks his mind before the questions begin. “Must I attend this ball?” 

“You are the King,” Bucky replies. “And tonight you shall not only be celebrated but you shall also—”

“Subdue to the Royal Council’s wishes and secure the future of the throne.” 

Steve’s words have a bite to them. They’re sharp and terse, accentuating the resentment he feels toward this ordeal. He walks away from Bucky, attempting to gather his wits before saying anything else. He sits down on his large bed, one hand on his knee and the other holding his chin. 

“Do not think of it this way.” 

“How else must I think of this when I have no say?” 

“Perhaps you don’t have the freedom of choice when it comes to the matter, but you still have a choice, Steve,” Bucky reminds him. He joins his side, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed. He taps him on the shoulder, letting his hand linger there. “The Council has dictated that you shall marry, but only you shall choose who.” 

You couldn’t be more wrong, Steve says to himself. He looks away, the words a sharp slap to his face. He’s never been one for conformity, and Bucky knows this. He’s aware of Steve’s rebellious tendencies and audacious disregard for the Crown's decisions.

Steve knows what this kingdom needs—what queen it longs to have. So why should it be one of noble descent when it could be one of noble spirit? What significance holds the nature of her blood, when in truth, we are all blood in nature? 

“If the choice was truly mine, I would choose no one but her.” 

His eyes are still errant, following a pathway of their own. Though he can’t see it, he feels Bucky’s heavy gaze on him. 

“I should have known you were thinking of Y/N back then,” Bucky comments. He nudges Steve’s shoulder with his until the King concedes and gives the Lord his full attention. He remains quiet, though his eyes say it all. “When are you never thinking about her?” 

“How is she faring?” Steve asks. Each letter is spelled with a plethora of emotions. Carved with longing and desire. It has been a considerable length of time since Steve last laid eyes upon Y/N. Ever since his father banished her to a distant corner of the castle, accompanied by strict instructions to avoid any form of interaction with Steve.

“Well. Though it is beyond evident that she misses you terribly. The mention of you is the only thing that seems to brighten her day.” 

The answer draws a small smile on Steve’s face. He nods, his mind already taking a trek on its own accord, reminiscing the days Steve had spent with Y/N growing up, picturing her dulcet smile and the light that inhabited her eyes. 

Steve has forever been a captive of duty. The blood coursing through his veins tethers him to the crown while unwavering loyalty anchors him to his kingdom. His spirit, alas, was never truly his own, and his heart had long been barricaded by the Council. However, within his mind, a sanctuary exists where his thoughts could roam, untamed and unrestrained, as they collide and soar amidst the vivid memories of Y/N and the alluring freedom she perpetually bestows.

He is on the cusp of replying. With what, he isn't quite sure yet. The mere thought of Y/N has left him momentarily speechless, his mind struggling to find the right words. But the insistent knock on his door reverberates louder than any words he could muster.

“Enter,” Steve says as Bucky straightens and stands up. 

The door opens and in walks Peter, one of the new guards in Brooklyn. “Your Majesty.” Peter bows. “Lord Barnes.”

“What is it, Peter?” Steve asks. 

“His Majesty, King Father Joseph, is requesting your presence.” 

Something within Steve throbs, an ache that resonates through his being. His father possesses an innate knack for impeccable timing, a seemingly supernatural ability to intrude upon Steve's most cherished moments.

Reluctantly, Steve pushes himself up and follows Peter to his father's quarters. He treads the well-worn path, the bitterness seeping through every step. The portraits lining the walls and the chandeliers adorning the taupe ceilings are all too familiar, etched into his memory from countless prior journeys.

His footsteps weigh heavily upon the carpet, each one echoing his disdain for the impending encounter. He takes in a deep breath, steeling himself before the guards deliver a resounding knock, heralding his arrival. With a measured breath, he crosses the threshold and enters the room.

Upon doing so, the pain within him heightens, intensifying to a raw and poignant state. It feels as if every fiber of his being wants to claw its way out from within. His gaze fixates on his father, who lies weak and feeble on the bed, attended to by hovering nurses. Yet, within Steve's mind, contrasting images begin to form.

He envisions himself from years past, confined to his own bed, accompanied by illness and fragility as constant companions. But gradually, the image takes on a bitter-sweet memory.

SEVEN YEARS AGO 

Steve shakes, uncertain whether it's the cold air or his nightmares that make him tremble. His room feels empty and lonely since his mother's departure, and his father is too busy to give him a second thought. Bucky is off with the troops, stuck in endless meetings. The looming war hangs heavy in the air, and Steve's father has made his choice of soldier, and it's not him.

Steve hates it. Hates being so useless. He cannot even fight for his kingdom, so how is he supposed to rule it one day? He huffs an exasperated sigh, turning around in his sheets. He shuts his eyes, partially because he wants to sleep and purely because he’s trying to force himself not to cry. 

It’s not working, though, as he feels the world closing in. The ceiling’s shadows are suddenly creeping closer, and the walls are wailing as they speed ahead. The door to his chambers squeaks, and he thinks it’s flying off its hinges. But in an unexpected shift, the world around him takes on a different hue, one that brings a soothing and calming sensation he didn't anticipate.

“Stevie.” His eyes snap open, and in that instant, he becomes aware of the rapid pounding of his heart. 

“Y/N?” 

“I heard you weren’t feeling your best.” Y/N smiles sheepishly. She moves a strand of her long wavy hair away, taking a tentative step closer. “I thought, perhaps, you needed some company.” 

Steve wants to say a lot of things. But seeing her in her long blue-green dress made him fall quiet. He’s always loved that color on her. It’s his favorite. 

You look beautiful, he tries to say. I have missed you. How are you faring? But nothing of the sort comes out. 

“You will be in trouble if you get caught,” he hears himself say. Instantly he regrets it. But Y/N doesn’t seem to mind. 

She shakes her head and moves closer. “Being with you is no trouble at all, my prince," she murmurs, settling down beside him and clasping his hand in her own. Steve occasionally wishes his hands were larger, more powerful. He feels a pang of shame for the thoughts that have crossed his mind, imagining the different ways his hands would hold her and explore every inch of her being.

His temperature rises at the thought, and even Y/N feels it. She hovers over him, pressing her lips sweetly to his forehead. His eyes close involuntarily. One of his hands weekly clutch Y/N’s own while the other fists her dress. Steve moans under his breath. “You are burning up,” she says with concern lacing her tone. She moves away, and Steve instinctively reaches for her. She sees the worry in his eyes, deciding to brush it away by running her fingers through his hair. “I will not leave, Your Highness.” 

“Y/N,” he grumbles weakly. 

Y/N smiles, reaching for the bowl of water and the wet rag left behind. “I will not leave you, Steve. I promise.”

PRESENT DAY

“Steve,” King Joseph calls. 

Steve is engulfed in a whirlwind of internal battles, ignited by his father's actions that have shattered everything. Promises that were never his to break have been torn apart, and as a result, Steve decides that he's unable to forgive him. He feels no trace of mercy toward him. No trace of love.

The coronation ball is a spectacle of extravagance, opulence, and sheer absurdity. The entire Brooklyn Court has gathered along with monarchs from neighboring kingdoms. 

King Stark graces the event with his Queen and their young Princess, joined by King Thor, Queen Sif, and Prince Loki. Steve's gaze catches sight of his trusted Lord Chancellor, Samuel “Sam” Wilson, engaged in conversation with his father and the King of Wakanda. 

And though he cannot see him, he knows Bucky must be lurking in the shadows, sharing a hidden moment with Princess Romanoff.

Steve lingers for a few moments before revealing his presence. He stands atop the banister, peering down at the chaos he is about to face. His gaze sweeps across the room, longing for a glimpse of someone familiar, although deep down he knows it's merely a futile hope.

With a heavy sigh, he descends the stairs, fully aware that his destiny lies in wait.

"Announcing His Royal Majesty, King Steven Grant Rogers."

The music begins, and the doors swing open. Steve steps forward, discomforted by the weight of all the attention upon him. He offers nods as others bow and curtsy, attempting to keep a smile on his face. Reaching the throne, he settles into it with more haste than necessary. As soon as he is seated, his subjects rise from their positions.

"Thank you all for joining us tonight," he declares, projecting his voice with a hint of implicit hesitation. “We’re honored to welcome you to Brooklyn Palace. Please, do enjoy yourself. May this merry occasion pave the way ahead for our kingdom.” 

The crowd cheers enthusiastically, chanting Steve’s name and singing his praises. They raise their hands in the air and clap without restraint, though Steve doesn’t hear them. He’s out of tune with his senses, his consciousness hauntingly distant. Suddenly and prematurely, he’s thrust back into the moment. He doesn’t know how to react when Princess Sharon enters his line of sight.

“Your Majesty,” she curtseys. Steve has always noticed that she overdoes it, lowering herself far more than necessary. Sam once remarked she did it to appear meek and subdued—traits many men apparently seek in a woman—Bucky, on the other hand, remarked that she was desperate for attention. 

“Princess Carter.” 

“Sharon, Your Majesty,” she rectifies while meeting his eyes. “You may call me Sharon. If you please, Your Majesty.” 

To his ears, it’s more of a plea than anything else. Which is why he doesn’t recede. Engaging in idle conversation with her isn't what he desires, for he can already discern the thoughts swirling within her mind, mirroring the thoughts of many other women in the palace. His father had made it unequivocally clear that Steve cannot rule without a queen by his side.

“Your Majesty,” Sharon’s voice beckons. Steve gazes at her, failing to mimic her enthusiasm. “Are you not going to ask me to dance?” 

No, he feels the need to say. I do not wish to dance with anyone. But the musicians are getting ready and his father is pinning him down with a glare. 

Reluctantly, he extends his hand and picks Sharon’s. “Of course.” Steve kisses the back of her hand. Carefully, he leads her to the dance floor, front and center, waiting for everyone to join. 

Bucky stands to his right and Sam to his left. Facing them are Princess Natasha and Duchess Wanda, respectively. Kings Tony, Thor, and T'Challa join next, accompanied by their Queens. 

Gradually, the room transforms into a parade of eager guests, lining up in anticipation of the forthcoming dance. A cacophony of music erupts, and the rhythm permeates the air, setting the stage for a whirlwind of movement. 

The men bow with a flourish, while the ladies curtsy in graceful synchronization. In the timeless tradition of the dance, they take a bold step forward, closing the distance between them. Steve's hands, steady yet tinged with anticipation, find their place upon the small of Sharon’s back, guiding her with gentle precision.

He sweeps across the dance floor, leading Sharon in elaborate and pristine circles. Her gaze on him is imperturbable, features soft under the lights of the chandelier. Steve cannot understand how her eyes can be so alight—they’re looking at him as if he was the present and the future when he is, in fact, counting the musical notes, anticipating the next switch in partners. 

The dance is Steve’s “seven minutes in heaven,” as Sam so eloquently worded it. Though, in reality, it’s a vicious torment. This dance offers Steve the chance to dance with four women—three for two minutes and one for no more than a fleeting sixty seconds. And luckily for him, Sharon’s two minutes are now up. 

He spins her to the right, fueled by a sense of anticipation at the thought of stealing a precious moment of respite. She leaves his arms, and he breathes deeply for a moment before Princess Shuri joins him. 

"Your Majesty, do me a favor and grace us with a smile. I would hate for my brother to be proven right. He is constantly rambling about how my mere presence seems to unsettle everyone around."

Steve offers Shuri beyond what she has asked for. A heartfelt laugh tumbles from his lips, and he’s elated to know that the music is far louder than his unrestrained chortle. 

“Your presence is welcome and cherished, Princess Shuri.” Steve dips the princess, ensuring she doesn’t fall. He brings her back on her feet and continues with the rest of the choreography. “Tell T’Challa you are the single spark of joy and delight this evening has brought.” 

“Oh, I will most certainly tell him that.” 

With a final smile, Steve releases his grip on Shuri, allowing her to navigate her way toward Loki's outstretched arms. Though her departure may lack grace, it’s far more captivating to watch than the arrival of yet another noble lady, who is now nestled in his arms. 

Princess Carol’s face is stoic, and her movements feel robotic, pre-programmed. The silence between her and Steve is tumultuous as the prince leads her through the dance. He’s grateful for her aloofness, granting him the chance to focus on something else other than an unnecessary conversation, or worse yet, a proposal. 

His blue eyes meander, traversing the room with a wandering gaze. In the midst of his observation, he catches sight of Princess Natasha and Marquess Barton engaged in a dance. Their movements may lack the refinement of the other nobles, but they appear unperturbed, swaying to a rhythm that is uniquely theirs. Steve notices Natasha intermittently locking eyes with Bucky, exchanging playful winks and smirks that stir a bitter sensation within him.

He thinks he will never experience this. Never be given the chance to love with all his heart and not his mind. To love for love and not the kingdom. To live for his love to rule and not to rule for his love to die.  

Princess Carol slips from his grasp with unexpected swiftness, leaving Steve momentarily stunned. His attention lingers on her abrupt departure, forgetting the need to steady himself. 

As Steve's palm rests open, a hand slips into his, catching him off guard. His arm instinctively reaches out, hastening to steady the woman who has joined him. The sudden touch electrifies his senses, igniting a rush of anticipation within him.

Blue orbs lock onto a wistful masterpiece, refusing to blink and allowing the moisture to gather, lending a subtle glassy sheen. Steve's steps falter, his footing shaken. Only now does he realize that he has been granted six minutes to breathe and a single dance partner that has stolen his every breath.

At this moment, Steve grasps the true might of the human mind as the dance fades into the background though his feet glide effortlessly across the floor. His heart races with joyous abandon, his thoughts sprint in a frenzy, and his eyes struggle to keep pace, captivated by the dazzling radiance emanating from the figure in front of him. 

Steve's eyes fixate on the familiar turquoise dress adorning the woman’s figure, a sight he has imagined countless times in his most indulgent thoughts. Yet, reality surpasses any fantasy he could conjure. With fervent intensity, he absorbs every detail of the woman before him, noting the familiarities that stir his heart and the subtle differences that ignite a sense of curiosity.

He towers over her now, his height surpassing hers by more than an inch. His presence is imposing, a protective and ardent force. They stand close, near enough for her to catch glimpses of green in his eyes and for him to feel the softness of her bodice against his chest.

Time passes, maybe a minute, or perhaps more. He doesn’t know. Because with her, time is a paradox, too complex to comprehend. Or perhaps, plain unnecessary. 

He notes that no one is dancing, noble men and women retreating to the ballroom's margins. They're entranced by Steve and his partner. Their glances multifaceted, both welcoming and unnerving. But he doesn't pay attention to them. Not when the musicians are still playing, granting him an infinity of respite.

He clutches the woman tighter, lifting her up in the air. The light catches the tiara on her head, the one he had specifically requested for her as a gift on her sixteenth birthday. She had once refused to wear it, claiming she wasn't a princess. And she was right. She's not just a princess; she's a queen.

There is so much to say. Too many questions to ask. And yet, Steve can only whisper one thing as he sets her down on her feet, his lips lingering close to her ear.

“You are divinity in human nature, and I have evermore longed to confess to you this.” 

Y/N says nothing, but the gasp that tumbles out and the fingers that trace Steve’s elbow speak of it all. “You haven’t changed,” she notes. He shakes his head and gives her a disbelieving look as if to urge her to look at him again. “You are just as warm and just as kind. Just as beautiful,” she enunciates, whispering the last part. 

The words reach his ears, carrying with them a genuine sincerity that resonates deep within him. He releases a soft exhale, a breath that caresses her face. Her delicate lashes gracefully meet, pulling his attention away from her magnetic eyes to her angelic smile. 

Steve is captivated by every aspect of her presence, his senses entranced by the enchantment that surrounds them both. “I have longed for you,” he admits. Immediately, Y/N's eyes burst open, revealing a clash of waves within her irises—a turbulent ocean of swirling emotions.

“I’ve heard, and I’m here to satiate your longing, My King.” 

"Prince," Steve corrects briskly. As he holds her waist, Y/N places both hands on his chest. He tenderly caresses her bottom lip. "Don't cease to see me in a different light now, princess."

“I am not a princess,” Y/N refutes. “As for the last half of your sentence, no matter who you become to the world, you will always be my prince, Stevie.” 

In that brief moment, her eyes reveal a vulnerability that tugs at Steve's heartstrings. “Y/N, tell me you are truly here. Tell me this is not yet another deceiving portrait my mind has conjured.” 

“I am real.” 

“How?” 

“Queen Mother Sarah,” she admits. Her voice carries a tinge of sadness at the memory of the late queen. “Before her demise, she called for me. You were away at the time, fighting the war against Hydra’s army. She made me swear to attend your coronation ball. To be by your side once more.” 

Oh, mother. Steve stands in disbelief. Though his mother passed seven years ago, her presence lingers within him. A constant source of comfort and guidance. He can't help but compare the stark contrast between his mother's love and his father's hostility, fueling a mix of emotions within him. The dominance and aggression of his father's actions only serve to heighten his appreciation for his mother's enduring tenderness and thoughtfulness, even in the realm of the afterlife.

“I needed to be by your side, even though I know I will be in trouble.” Y/N’s voice shakes him out of his stupor. She’s biting on her lower lip, her long hair hiding half her face. “Your father will surely order me farther away.” 

“Let him try,” Steve challenges with determination, causing Y/N to wear a wearied expression of disbelief. With tenderness, he adds, "I'd like to witness anyone daring to separate the future Queen of Brooklyn from my embrace."

King Joseph seethes with a fiery intensity, teetering on the edge of explosion. Anger courses through his veins, overwhelming his senses in the wake of what he has just witnessed. With resolute determination, he guides his son towards the Council chamber, his mind already brimming with scathing words, poised to unleash his fury upon him.

“Of all of the women in this court and beyond, you have decided to entertain a chambermaid for the better half of the evening!” 

“She is not a mere chambermaid, father. You know well who Y/N is!” 

"A mere distraction," the King counters vehemently, his fist slamming down on the dark oak table with a resounding thud. "A disgrace," he continues, his voice filled with simmering indignation.

“A queen.” 

"Never! Over my dead body, you imbecile!" King Joseph retorts, his voice laced with venomous defiance, unwilling to yield to his son's audacious declaration.

"So be it then, father!" Steve roars with fiery determination. "All you have ever cared for is for Brooklyn to be the nexus of the Grand American Dynasty, no matter the cost, no matter the price! Your vision is so narrow that you fail to see the alternative paths, the possibilities beyond the ones you have carved for yourself."

“The avenues you traverse in your thoughts are nothing but insignificant alleyways leading to nowhere, boy!” 

"They are mine. All of them belong to me alone," Steve asserts with unwavering conviction. "They are the boulevards of my childhood and the thoroughfares of my future. They are paths carved by a woman who has treated me far better than my own father ever has!"

“She is insignificant!” 

"How dare you! You have waged wars and battles, leaving me to mend the relationships you have severed. You have sowed fear and wielded despair in your son and your kingdom, and I will not allow you to condemn me or my future any longer."

“Steven!” 

“No! You will listen, and I will lend my ears no longer. I am the only heir to the throne. You and the Council be damned if you do not willingly allow me to marry the woman who will rule Brooklyn with far more grace and vigor than you ever had. Mark my words, I will take matters into my own hands and fight for love and justice, even if it means defying the entire kingdom.” 

“You would never," King Joseph says, his voice seething with anger and contempt, his eyes blazing with fiery defiance.

Steve smirk. It’s dark and vindictive, sending shivers down the spine of his father. “Watch me,” he whispers, his voice laced with a chilling determination.

He marches out of the chamber and onto the grand ballroom. His heart thumps in his chest, louder than the mellifluous sounds of the musician's instruments. 

He moves through the crowd like a lion king walking through his kingdom. His gaze locks on Y/N, standing beside Bucky and Sam. As their eyes meet, a mixture of surprise and anticipation reflects in the depths of her gaze, mirroring the emotions pulsating within him.

As the world around them fades into a blur, leaving only the two of them standing in the spotlight, Steve's years of etiquette training and courtship knowledge seem insignificant. Despite his mastery of courting rituals and the art of conversation, Y/N possesses the uncanny ability to shatter his carefully crafted facade. With a mere glance, she erases the learned scripts from his mind, leaving it a blank canvas, ready to be painted by her presence alone.

He doesn’t count his steps though he suspects they’re brisk. He reaches out and tugs at her hand, drawing her closer. Steve lets go of his thoughts and his constraints, deciding to focus on her. His lips are fierce as they suddenly clash with hers, and the sound of their lips moving together seems to echo louder than the

The kiss becomes a clarion call, a declaration of war and surrender in a single act. It symbolizes the culmination of suppressed emotions and unspoken promises, a deluge of feelings too long restrained. It ignites a storm of passionate responses, an uproar of joy and relief that reverberates through the room.

In that fleeting moment, it embodies Y/N's tenderness and longing, intertwining with Steve's defiance and resolve. The kiss bridges the fractures of their past and ushers in the promise of a shared future.

Like an art piece, it's crafted with meticulous detail and profound meaning. Its evocative power lingers in the air, leaving a trace of its essence. The kiss is not just a mere gesture. It's an effervescent expression of their love, unique and incomparable.

At this moment, Steve and Y/N claim their own narrative, painting their own masterpiece of connection and desire. It's an art piece that captivates all who witness it, leaving an indelible mark on their hearts and memories.

“I need a queen,” Steve breathes in haste. I need you, he’s trying to say. I breathe you. 

And Y/N laughs, delicately and boldly. She presses her palms against his cheeks, the warmth of her touch fanning the flames of Steve’s love. 

“Let me be everything you need and more.”

Steve Rogers has my whole heart, and I was unbelievably happy when Val overflooded my inbox with requests!! Still got one Mob!Steve and Professor!Steve one shots to write, which I'm super excited to start with. Btw, how the hell does Val know all my favorite tropes?

Anyhow, I was so excited, so I powered through this one. The others? Might take anywhere between 3 to 5 business months to release them. But Sab will try her best to release them sooner.

Don’t forget to send in your Marvel/Harry Potter requests!

Can’t wait to share more!!

[justalonelyslytherin]

My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | One

previous chapter | Masterlist | next chapter

Pairing: secret king!Steve Rogers x heir apparent!female Reader

Summary: Steve, Sam, and Bucky start off their vacation in the remote lake town with an adventurous evening stumbling over three lost girls in the woods.

Warnings: Reader is mentioned once or twice having brunette hair for the convenience of setting her apart from her sisters, no otherwise description of her appearance, wandering in the dark in the forest, mentions of wild/dangerous animals and killers/assassins

Wordcount: 3.2k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don't allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don't steal my work.

A/N: The first chapter is a little bit different, almost exclusively in Steve's pov. We'll switch towards a Y/N focused pov starting in chapter 2, with the sprinkle of Steve's pov here and there. the beautiful Dividers are by the lovely @/firefly-graphics

Taglist: open, will be tagged in the comments

“Everything is handled. Although I can’t promise it will stay that way for long. Enjoy your getaway while you still can.”

“Thank you Hill.” Steve ended the call, slowly lowering his arm and shoving his phone into the pocket of his pants. With a sigh, he leaned back in the car seat and looked out of the window.

“Vacation,” Sam huffed in an amused tone, eyes focused on the road he was driving on as he barely shook his head. “Can’t remember the last time I took one.” 

Steve smiled, “Me neither.”

Bucky in the passenger's seat snorted loudly. “Time you got one.”

That Steve could only agree with. And it was exactly why they were on their way. They’d been on the road for a couple of hours already, making the track from one end of the country to the other one. There was only one place Steve could imagine spending a wintery holiday just before Christmas. It was a small and quiet town, nestled between the shallow foothills of the mountains and surrounded by a bunch of smaller lakes not far away from the border. Not many people chose to visit it. 

“How long until we are there?” Bucky groaned as he shifted in his seat and stretched his arms high above his head. As high as the ceiling of the car allowed him to. Steve could hear his longest friends' joints creak through the motion.

“Not long,” Sam grumbled, glaring at the brunette before he glanced back at the road again.

“We are almost there,” Steve agreed, eyeing the familiar scenery. It warmed his heart as he spied the hints of the lake peeking through the trees. Shortly after the road curved to the left, following the outline of the lake as the town came into view.

“Wow,” Sam, whose first time it was there, exclaimed in awe. Both Bucky and Steve were equally mesmerized however much quieter. They had traveled there many times, yet the first view of the town never wasn't magnificent.

Driving through the town many heads turned as the townspeople watched them pass by. “Turn left here,” Bucky’s gruff direction came as they had passed almost entirely through the town, the Townsquare and most houses already behind them.

“Here?” Sam asked doubtfully as he eyed the small dirt road that was easy to miss. The snow covering it made the street blend into the surrounding trees so well, one might miss it entirely not knowing of its existence.

“Yes,” Steve agreed, his heart jumping in his throat as they pulled into the inconspicuous road, “just follow it.”

Leading away from the town for a good 10 minutes it felt as if their car was swallowed by nature. The road took a couple of winding turns until after the last one the trees to either side of the road parted and revealed a big plot of land. In the middle of it sat a cozy, sleepy cabin. Three stories high and big enough to house an entire little village of its own, Steve instantly felt at home.

As the car came to a halt before the double-door garage, he couldn’t get out fast enough. While Bucky went on to open the garage, Steve stepped through the snow and rounded on the cabin. Standing before it he craned his neck. Memories flooded his mind as the smile on his lips grew with each passing moment.

“I thought you said the cabin hadn’t been used in a while.” Bucky took his stand beside his friend, glancing up at the cabin too.

“I asked someone in the village to set it up for us a couple of days ago. Everything is defrosted and we got a stocked pantry and fireplace.” Grinning, Bucky looked over at Steve.

“Now that sounds like a proper vacation, even for us!” Both of them laughed as Steve shoved his friend by the shoulder.

“You could have had a proper vacation even before. No one will recognize me here.”

“Not with that mug, no.” Bucky agreed and eyed the dark hair on the blonde’s lower face. Before Steve could say something, a shout came from the garage.

“Some help maybe?” Sam had already started to open the trunk and empty out their bags. In unison, Steve and Bucky walked over to help bring their bags into the cabin.

“A fire, then a nap and food, how does that sound?”

"Ha! It's cold!” Sam shuddered as he stepped onto the veranda, closing the glass doors with his elbow as his hands were filled with three beers. Steve and Bucky, who were already sitting on two chairs with a small fire lit in a brazier out of metal and stone, chuckled at their friends' antics.

“I told you to wear a damn coat,” Bucky teased him, earning a glare. Sam gave one of the three bottles of beer to Steve and held the other one above Bucky’s head, just out of his reach.

“Yeah and next time you can get yourself your own beer, Barnes.” 

Steve rolled his eyes at his friend's quarrel. He was used to them being at each other’s throats. He also knew that it was mostly for show and deep down they both cared deeply for one another. They just were too stubborn to acknowledge it. 

Nursing his beer the blonde leaned further back in this chair and spread his knees out. The residual snow, after they’d cleared most of it off, crunched beneath his feet.

“Man, this is serene. I could get used to this view and the quietness up here.” Sam sighed as he dropped into his own chair. Two hums followed his words, agreeing with them. 

“Just laying back and doing nothing,” Steve mumbled as he glanced towards the treeline. It had gotten dark about half an hour ago, even if it wasn’t that late yet. The sun set quickly around here.

“Oh come on, you’d be bored by midday.” Bucky scoffed and looked at the blonde as he rolled his eyes. “And then Sam and I would have to hunt you down and stop you from getting into trouble.”

“Not like we don’t have to do that on the regular already.”

Steve wanted to protest, in fact, he had already opened his mouth to give them a piece of his mind when they heard a crack not far away from the forest.

“You heard that?” Sam asked as all three of them watched the darkened scenery with watchful eyes. Then another noise came from within the woods. This time, not a crack, it sounded much more…human.

Steve put his beer on the ground and stood up. Stepping onto the edge of the veranda he strained his ears. “It sounded like a person,” he mumbled. There was no third noise which seemed strange to him and without further thought, he decided to investigate.

“Steve…Hey! Steve!” Bucky shouted after him as the blonde already bounded down the steps into the garden and strode towards the edge of the woods.

“For fucks sake,” he grumbled as he looked over at Sam. Putting down his beer with enough force to crack the bottle he jumped over the railing to follow the blonde. Sam scrambled into the house to get his coat and ran after the both of them.

“You can’t just walk into the goddamn woods in the dark Rogers!”

“Without us even less Punk!”

Steve however kept marching on, paying the two of them no mind. He had a mission now. Whatever had caused the noise in the woods it must be special. The woods around the cabin were always quiet. The occasional birds or deer could be heard or seen in the mornings but they made many different sounds. Something in his gut told him to investigate the noise and Steve never went against his gut feeling.

The path he chose through the trees was unsteady and went every which way there was the most space to get to where the noise had come from. Steve stopped as he heard twigs breaking. Looking back Bucky and Sam were standing still too, Bucky shrugged his shoulders. It hadn’t been one of them then. Another crack made Steve look into the dim maze of trees until he spotted something light peeking out between them. With newfound vigor, he stepped forward when a hand landed on his shoulder. Glancing behind, Bucky glared at him and shook his head. 

Sam walked past, taking the lead. Only when he was several meters in front of them did Bucky retract his hand, “Don’t be stupid punk. I won’t hear the end of it if you manage to get yourself killed on your vacation.” 

Before Steve could answer that he wouldn’t get himself killed, shouts sounded from further ahead. Steve could distinctly hear Sam’s shout of “Whoa!” mixed with a second voice.

“Sam!” he shouted and sprinted forward as he saw his friend go down. Skidding to a halt in what was a small clearing in the snow-covered forest Steve and Bucky didn’t trust their eyes. Sam was sitting on the ground, clearly surprised but fine at first glance. Before him stood a young blonde woman who seemed as surprised to see them as they were seeing her. Her arms were still stretched out from whatever movement she had done to send Sam onto his ass.

“What the hell?!” came his exclamation as he fought to get up from the slippery ground. Steve held out a hand to his friend, pulling Sam up. Bucky meanwhile didn’t take his eyes off the strange young woman.

“Who are you?” he asked gruffly and sternly. Before the blonde could answer, more cracking of twigs resounded before two figures barged out of the trees behind her.

“Yelena! Are you okay!” The taller one of the two new women asked, her brows drawn down in concern, eyes flitting over the frame of the blonde one. 

“What were you thinking walking off?” The redhead asked her, arms crossed before her chest and scoffing. It was only after that they noticed Steve, Sam, and Bucky just a short distance behind Yelena.

Steve’s heart made a leap as the eyes of the brunette landed on him. She was pretty, he noted, very pretty. Her gaze was electrifying, rendering him unmovable as her eyes fixated on him. She moved slowly, carefully gauging their reaction, to step between the blonde and them. 

“Who are you?” Her silky smooth voice caused a shiver to ripple down his back. Steve quietly gasped at the sensation, at the way her voice seemed to penetrate every pore of his being. 

Had it not been for both Bucky and Sam scoffing and guffawing Steve would have been stuck in his daze forever. Now however his eyes jumped to his friends, who were ready to step forward and chew these girls up. He held a hand out, stopping them. Bucky shot him a disbelieving look followed by an eye roll. Subtly he crossed his arms and flexed his muscles. Steve couldn’t blame either Sam or Bucky for reacting in this way, protecting him was an automatic response neither could shake off.

“I’m Steve. This is Sam and Bucky.” Steve pointed at himself and then at the two others before he trailed off, once more getting caught in the beauty of the young woman standing before him. She looked reluctant and cautious. The unsteady flicker of her eyes between all three of them clearly showed how uneasy she was to have met them in the middle of the forest in the dark, how distrusting she was of them. In Steve it only caused curiosity to sprout. What were they doing here this late? 

“I’m Y/N. My sister's Natasha–” she pointed at the redhead, “–and Yelena,” then at the blonde she was shielding.

Only after she gave him a timid nod, he thought to elaborate. Swallowing, he mumbled, “We, uhm, we heard some noises and wanted to investigate when we came upon..” 

Yelena, who he was sheepishly pointing at, cut him off, “When they scared the living daylights out of me. I thought they were wild animals trying to attack me.” Bucky snorted amused at that.

“There are no wild animals here. At least none that are dangerous. They don’t venture that close to the cabin or the village.”

“So we are close to a village?” Natasha spoke up, her voice sounding hopeful. Confused, Steve eyed the three girls closely, they looked exhausted and frozen. He noticed the way all three of them were trembling and shifting from one foot to the other. Y/N’s hands were shaking as she curled them into fists and unfurled them over and over again. She tried to hide it, shoving her hands behind her back after she caught him looking. 

“You are lost, aren’t you?” he asked them, glancing up at her eyes once more. There was a spark in them, the brief flitting of a look that reminded him of a spooked and cornered animal. It was gone in the blink of an eye, so fast Steve thought he might have imagined it. What he didn’t imagine was the way she shifted and bit her lip, glancing back at her sisters.

Both Natasha and Yelena were tense, glancing at each other. They opened their mouths at the same time, forming the first letter of what Steve suspected would have been an unconvincing ‘no’ had Y/N not spoken up first. 

“Yes,” she answered timidly, still not entirely sure if she could trust these three strange men, “We were on our way when our car broke down.”

“And you decided to walk aimlessly through the woods instead of calling a tow service or even a taxi?” Sam asked in utter disbelief. It was very cold up here, especially without the sun the temperatures quickly turned deadly. The three girls kept silent, pressing their lips together and furrowing their brows.

“You have a phone, do you?” Bucky asked them and the girls reacted the same way. “You don’t have a phone?” He asked once more, surprise evident on his face as they nodded.

“Could you point us to the village perhaps?” Natasha asked, clearly uncomfortable and done with the questioning. 

“Sure. It’s another 4 miles in that direction.” Sam was very frank and dry in his answer, uncrossing his arms before his chest and pointing his finger deeper into the forest.

“Sam.” Steve chided, frowning at him. Neither Sam nor Bucky seemed concerned or apologetic about their blasé manner, Steve however didn’t feel right treating the girls that way. Sending them on their way back into the forest when it was only going to be darker and colder into the night even if the way to the village wasn’t that long left a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

While Natasha and Yelena turned around, ready to head back deeper into the forest, and Sam and Bucky also turned around to make the short track back to the property, Y/N and Steve remained motionless. Eyes on eyes, they hesitated. Steve wasn’t sure if it was his concern for their well-being or the pull of something else that was radiating between her and him. He didn’t want to let her go. Everything in him shouted to stop her and to have some more time together, get to know her. 

What he couldn’t know, Y/N felt the same. She was intrigued by the blonde man with sparkling blue eyes, which when she looked into gave her the feeling of safety. It felt like she had known him for an eternity instead of less than thirty minutes.

Her mind had been running ever since they mentioned a phone. Before she had never thought about it but now the realization settled heavily in the pit of her stomach. They didn’t have a phone, they didn’t have money. They had nothing on them besides the clothes they were wearing. Even if they found the village, how were they supposed to pay for a room in an inn? 

Steve sensed her hesitation on top of the pull and it seemed the others had by now too.

“Y/N?” Natasha asked, having turned back around.

“Nat, we don’t have any money with us. How are we supposed to pay for a room? For anything?” They couldn’t even get the car fixed and turn back around. They were stranded. Utterly screwed up. Natasha remained silent, looking directly at her older sister.

“Well, shit.”

“You don’t have anything with you?” Y/N looked back at Steve and hesitantly nodded. He wondered just who these girls were to be stranded this far out in the country, so close to the border, with nothing in their possession. Bucky and Sam’s eyes were practically burning into the back of his head, both of them knowing exactly what Steve was about to do but neither agreeing in the slightest. 

Before he could speak up, he was pulled back by his neck. Bucky looked at him furiously, before he turned to the girls. “Give us a moment,” he told them gruffly pulling Steve further backward. A short distance away from them they huddled together.

“You can’t be offering what I think you’ll be,” Sam spoke up first.

“Yeah punk. We don’t know them. It’s not safe.” 

“What if they are unhinged hitchhiker killers? Or assassins sent by the North? Repay a debt or some of that crap?”

Steve looked back at the girls. They were standing huddled together, rubbing and blowing on their hands for warmth. He could still see them trembling, even from afar. They didn’t look like killers to him, they looked like three lost girls who desperately needed a warm place and some kind strangers to help them. His and Y/N’s eyes met as she glanced up. There was that pull again, only furthering his sure feeling that they weren't a danger.

“Look at them, Buck. They are cold and you heard them. They have nowhere to stay. We can’t let them wander in the cold throughout the night. They'd be dead before they reach the town.”

Bucky groaned loudly, “Fine punk. But they stay downstairs in the wing furthest away from your room. One of us takes the room before you and the other the room in front of the stairs at the beginning of the hallway.” Steve could live with these conditions. 

“And tomorrow morning we’ll drive them into the town and get them a hotel room,” Sam added. Steve was fine with that too and if he secretly planned to use his rank to meddle with it, then they didn’t need to know it.

For now, he turned around and strode over to the three girls. They turned towards him, three pairs of eyes curiously looking up at him, one of those which lit a fire in his stomach and made his heart do backflips.

“We are staying in a cabin just at the edge of the forest. It’s much closer than the village and we don’t charge anything. So if you’d like, you can stay the night and we’ll show you the way to the village in the morning. Work something out?” 

They looked at each other, eyes jumping back and forth, brows and mouths furrowing and curling. It reminded Steve of the silent conversations he would have with Bucky when they were in meetings or during formal functions. As Y/N turned back towards him, he held his breath in anticipation.

“We’d like to. Thank you.”

[4rcaneye]

⭐️who i write for⭐️

mcu

steve rodgers

bucky barns

peaky blinders

thomas shelby

dc

clark kent

batman (ben affleck) & battinson

got

robb stark

jon snow

hotd

aegon targaryen

daemon targaryen

queen charlotte

king george

nhl

brock boeser

auston matthews

jacob markstrom

celebrities

jack harlow

cod

könig

ghost

challengers

art donaldson

[trinittyy]

fic recs

just a little assortment of my favorite works to keep track of them and also show love to the respective writers.

note - a majority, if not all, of the following works contain dark content that some could find triggering. tread carefully.

divider by @firefly-graphics

toxic affection - @love-toxin

warnings: harassment, bullying, some violence, forced relationship

pairing: yandere!bakugou x reader

literally unashamed to say that BNHA fanfiction is what brought me to Tumblr

but this was one of the first I found and it's epic

what's your escape - @gotnofucks

warnings: obsession, possessive behavior, non-con

pairing: dark!sherlock holmes x reader

the man is disastrously down bad for the poor reader

she was so witty and clever but in the end, he got what he wanted in the most satisfying way

infatuation - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor - masterlist

warnings: mentions of stalking, obsession, non-con

pairing: dark!clark kent x reader

poor girl didn't have a clue or a chance in the world to escape this man

sidenote: I can't add Roo to the recs without mentioning just how talented she is. She was the first proper introduction to dark fics in the Marvel fandom and I've been hooked ever since. The amount of detail and dedication that goes into her work is noticeable and she's a talent that deserves recognition. It's one thing to make me like a fic or two of my favorite Marvel men but another to have me thirst over shit I didn't think I'd like.

naughty ransom holiday tales - @jtargaryen18

warnings: kidnapping, non-con, dub-con

pairing: dark!ransom drysdale x reader

guilty pleasure series

hate to love ransom but I can't help it

what the king has - @sincerelythedarkside

warnings: dub-con, character death

pairing: soft!dark steve rogers x reader

royal au

love me a good jealous steve

plot twist shocked the shit outta me

smut was out of this fucking world

love bites - @cherienymphe - masterlist

warnings: character death, jealousy, non-con

pairing: dark!steve rogers x reader, peter parker x reader

modern vampire au (what's not to love there)

this actually made me cry like a bitch

ongoing series

sidenote: Seeing as Cherie will be on this list many times, I have to say it's difficult not to add every piece of work on this list because while some writers have a magnum opus, everything she writes is a work of art. Her range and the backstory she puts in her characters make each story feel like a movie I just can't get enough of. Will forever love her writing.

kryptonite - @cherienymphe

warnings: non-con, obsession

pairing: dark!bruce wayne x reader

the build-up and tension gave me actual chills

trailer park babydoll - @mypoisonedvine

warnings: dub-con, infidelity, age gap

pairing: wayne munson x reader

guilty pleasure fic

absolute filthy smut

wrath of the dragon - @straywords

warnings: non-con, chasing

pairing: dark!daemon targaryen x reader

yet another down bad man

overdue - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

warnings: creepy curtis, non-con, obsessive behavior

pairing: dark!curtis everett x reader

there's little to nothing i love more than a good ole broody man with attachment issues

anxious - @syntheticavenger

warnings: stalking, kidnapping

pairing: dark!peter parker x reader

tasm peter

cutest in a way lol little fic

the dream that got away - @dotieeee

there's not nearly enough dark fics ft my fave peter so I love this one

warnings: dub-con, non-con, manipulation, controlling behavior, obsession

pairing: dark!morpheus x oc!mera

probably the first dark fic about morpheus

each chapter was a masterpiece

and i still haven't seen the show lol

thanks for the invite - @syntheticavenger

warnings: non-con, bitchy friend behavior, implied drugging (i think), oral (f receiving), slight bondage

pairing: dark!lloyd hansen x reader

a funny little unhinged lloyd fic

rsvp - @syntheticavenger

warnings: dub-con, hide and seek, exasperated bodyguard, exhibitionism (a bit)

sequel to the fic listed above

lloyd is still unhinged and reader is still suffering

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the ravenous rupture

fused with the foe, chapter five

a/n: and that's it for fused with the foe! but don't you worry, our wonderful king and queen will return in both of the next instalments of the series ♡ (the release date for the next one is already up on the masterlist)

summary: “I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.” 

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, smut, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, love confession, crying, kissing, loss of virginity, semi-public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, dirty talk, oral, fingering, handjob, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, aftercare

word count: 3895

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

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Raising yourself up onto your tip toes, your fingertip still didn’t even manage to graze the spine of the tome you were trying to reach, only the tall shelf it stood on. 

But just then, before you could turn to get a chair to balance on, an inked hand came into view and grasped the book for you. 

“The Biology of Soil: A Farmer’s Comprehensive Study of Dirt,” Barnes dryly read the title out loud, “sounds absolutely riveting.”

“Don’t mock,” you snatched the leatherbound tome out of the knight’s hand, “it is interesting!”

“Of course, it is, your majesty,” he bit down a chuckle, “my apologies.”

A soft laugh couldn’t help but bubble out of you as you exited the library, “you know, you remind me a lot of my brothers.”

Walking at your side, he shot you a squint, “is that a compliment?”

“Well, I meant it as so, but I guess it could also be interpreted as an insult, all depending on which brother.”

Sinking further back into the plush armchair, your eyes danced from star to star as they glinted back at you through the big library window. 

The full moon was so bright that you hadn’t needed to light a candle in order to make out the sentences in the open book that rested in your lap. 

But suddenly, the creak of the heavy double doors to the chamber found your ears and when you twisted your head to discover who it was, your frame immediately sprung up from your comfortable seat. The forgotten tome tumbled to the floor with a dull thump as the embroidered dressing gown you wore over your ivory chemise fluttered around your legs as you swiftly stood.

“Your majesty–, Steve, I mean, Steve,” you clumsily corrected yourself, “hi, hello.”

“Evening,” he simply smiled, slowing his stride as he watched you bend down to pick the hardback off the floor. 

Hugging the book to your chest, you blew out a breath, “what–, uh…” you eyed the loose linen shirt he had sloppily tugged into his trousers, “what are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged, “thought a boring novel might do the trick,” letting his fingertips kiss the ends of each bookcase as he neared you by the window, “what about you?”

“Yeah, I can’t sleep either,” a soft sigh flowed from your lips, “my mind just doesn’t seem to wanna settle down these days…”

A gentle furrow appeared to Steve’s brow, “what’s troubling you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” you placed the book down on the round side table by the armchair. 

“If it’s keeping you up then it’s not nothing,” gripping the tall back of the chair, he rested against it as he gazed at your visage in the moonlight, “come on, you can talk to me.”

The knot in your chest tightened, “no, I can’t,” and you averted your gaze to the stone floor, “I really can’t…”

“Why?” 

“Because–…” clenching your jaw in an effort to keep tears at bay, you briefly shot him a glare as you snapped, “because I just can’t, alright?” squeezing your eyes shut, you quietly muttered just beneath your breath, “gods… how long will I have to wait…” 

Having apparently had better hearing than you’d thought, Steve then queried, “wait for what?”

Fluttering your eyes back open, you met his gaze and uttered sombrely, “…for it to pass…” feeling your heart thump painfully in your chest just from the mere sight of him. 

A low sigh slowly seeped out of his lungs before his unwavering gaze averted to the upholstery of the chair, “…I hope you know that I’ve grown to care for you a great deal. You’re a very dear friend,” he uttered with the utmost sincerity, “and as a dear friend, I wish for you nothing but the purest of happiness. I want you to experience all of the great and wonderful things that life has to offer,” his ocean eyes then drifted back up to catch yours, “don’t let our union hold you back for any of that.”

Sucking in a breath, you asked, “what do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.” 

Averting your gaze, “…is that what you want?” you dug your nails into your opposite palm, “for us both to openly be with other people?”

“I don’t want you to be lonely and depressed,” fragments of desperation resonated in his tone, “you’ve already experienced more than one lifetime of hardships and I really don’t want this to be another one. So, when you fall in love, please don’t hesitate. You of all people deserve to experience that.” 

“…I–…” a shaky breath escaped you, “I can’t–…”

“…you can’t?” he echoed in nearly a whisper. 

“I can’t because–…” lifting your gaze, the library around you grew more blurry by the second, “because I can’t stop thinking about you,” you revealed, “from the moment that I wake to even the dreams that possess me at night. I can not shake you from my thoughts no matter how hard I try,” as you blinked, a tear escaped and rolled down your cheek, “Steve, I wish for you to experience those very joys you speak of just as fiercely. I just want you to be happy even if I’m not the source.”

Looking as if he was scarcely breathing at all, his gaze stayed fixed upon you as he uttered, “dove, why do you think I wish that for you?” your eyes grew wide at his confession, “I don’t wanna be with someone else when you are the one I want by my side,” his fingers faltered from the grip they had on the back of the armchair as his slow steps began to carry him closer to where you stood, “not just as my queen, but as my friend, as my conscience, as my judgement, as my heart,” his eyes glistened as he then declared, “I am yours, Y/n. I didn’t plan for it, I don’t even know when it happened or how, but I do know that it’s true.”

Closing the short distance that remained, you walked up and pulled him down as you began to rise up to your tip toes. As you crashed your lips against his, it didn’t take long before you felt his broad hands glide over your waist. 

Breaking the kiss, you retracted just enough to catch the beguiling look in his eye. The corners of his lips drew up dreamily just as yours did right before you dove back in.

As your fingers weaved in his beard, so did his tongue as it danced against your own, making you lightheaded as your feet began to shuffle back, though you didn’t realise that you’d even been moving till your spine crashed against a sturdy bookcase. 

Parting momentarily at the impact, a soft giggle swiftly followed your initial squeak the collision conjured. As his gentle chuckle echoed your own, Steve’s palm caressed down your features before he captured your lips once more. 

When the fire inside of you crackled and burned too hot for you to ignore, you pulled back, a glossy string of saliva still kept you connected a moment before you gasped, “Steve, I–… I–…”

Resting his palms over yours as they clutched the top of his tunic, he tilted his chin back further, “what?” creating enough of a distance between you to truly check in. 

But how you were going to ask of him what you desired remained a mystery, no matter how hard you scrambled your fuzzy mind. So instead, you wrapped your fingers around one of his wrists and slowly guided it lower. 

“Dove…” he sucked in a breath as his gaze shadowed the journey you were taking his touch on, “do you wanna–…” finding your eye, he asked you softly, “you sure you know what it is you’re asking for?” 

“Yes,” swiftly flowed out of you as you nodded dizzily, “I–… I know. I read the books, I read all of them, I know how it all works,” your rushed words conjured a lovely little chuckle from the royal, “I just–… please?” your hot breathed fanned across his features as he leaned back in close, “I–… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you…” with your fingers still enveloped around his wrist, his touch slowly began to take over and to move on its own, “fantasising about what you might be like…” unhurriedly ghosting up and down the curve of your waist, “about what your touch must feel like…” each time creeping closer and closer to where you wished for him to caress, “how it differs compared to my own…” till his teasing touch ended each fluttering swoop with feather-light grazes at both the swell of your tits, as well as the lower part of your abdomen, just before he actually reached anything real, through still leaving you utterly dazed. 

Leaning a forearm against the shelf behind you, he smirked, “…you think about me?” 

“Every night,” you dug your fingers in the fabric of your chemise and pleadingly began to hike it up, “sometimes the sun doesn’t even manage to set before I need a moment alone… all because of you.”

As he then captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his wandering hand dipped under your thin shift before you’d even raised the hem completely. When his touch found your buzzing pearl, a whimper slipped from your lungs and vibrated against his tongue as your grip on the fabric faltered and it dropped to hang around his wrist like a curtain.

“Is this how you dreamed about me touching you?” he gazed down at you, smiling at the way you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

Mind melting to ooze, you bubbled, “yes–, but also–, oh!” your brows knit together as he switched to circle your clit harder, “a-also–”

“Also how?” you could hear your want reverberate off the palace walls as he touched you, “did you dream about me kissing you down here?” holding your gaze, Steve then sank to his knees before you. 

Your breaths came in ragged as you blinked down at him, “y-yes,” watching intently as he dipped his head under your gathered-up skirts. The sloppy pecks he then lavishly began to plant over your glistening petals felt like nothing you’d ever imagined, “oh, that’s–,” you let out a broken moan, “don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Throwing your head back against the bookcase, Steve’s grip buried in your crumbled clothes as his soft tongue dragged through your desperation. 

Letting go of your chemise with one hand, it drifted down your hip. Enclosing his lips around your throbbing clit, he sucked down hard as his fingers joined to sweep through your mess, only parting from you for a breath, “gods, you taste so fucking good,” before he eased one digit inside your clenching cunt. 

You barely noticed that it was falling before the robe you wore slipped off your frame and tumbled to a puddle on the floor, leaving you with only the thin shift and the king’s hot kisses for warmth in the cold night. 

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you whimpered, reaching down to thread your fingers in his honied hair as a second finger sneaked in beside the other, fucking you gently with them. 

You nearly wiggled out of his grasp when his luscious laps unravelled you completely, but somehow the monarch managed to follow your every squirm till he softened his efforts and replaced them with a few soft pecks over your sensitive clit that made your whole form twitch.

Fluttering your eyes open, you met his gaze as he raised the back of his hand to wipe some of your juices from his beard. 

Breathlessly, you uttered, “get up,” and as he did, you didn’t waste any time before your eyes drifted from his tender stare, “take your shirt off.” 

With one hand, he reached back and tugged the tunic off of his head, swiftly letting it drop to the floor and join the fabric puddle already at your feet. 

For a moment, he didn’t give in on his urge to close the short distance between you, simply stood there and let your stare study him, learn the galaxy of his flesh, every little mark and scar that told the story of his past. 

With your eyes still glued to the burliness of his fuzzy chest, you uttered, “tell me again,” before lifting your gaze up to meet his, “tell me again so that I know this is real.”

Reaching out to grasp your right hand, he said, “it’s real,” stepping closer as he placed your ceremonially scarred palm over his heart, “I’m real, this is real,” his fingers on his own marked hand, which clasped over yours, gently brushed over your knuckles as he spoke, “I am yours,” he shifted again and closed the small gap between you, “I will always be yours till my dying breath.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, you watched as the moonlight glinted in the blue of his eyes, making them look like the sea on a stormy night. 

“I think my heart has belonged to you ever since the dragon attack,” you professed, “though it took me a while longer before I realised what it was, why you made me feel the way that you do,” you parted your fingers against his chest, “Steve,” and let his weave in with your own, “I love you.”

Using his hold as an advantage, Steve yanked you to him till your lips crashed against his. Letting your free hand wander across his warm skin, it swiftly came down to cup the palpable tent in his trousers.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly as you offered him a light pet. 

As you shifted to fiddle after the buttons on the side of his breeches, even the aid of your other hand didn’t yield any success in undoing more than one of them. Swiftly coming to your rescue, you swore it only took him three seconds before they hung loose enough around his hips for his cock to spring free.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you glanced down at length which stood so proud it poked you in the stomach. If only you had the proper context to truly know how intimidated you should have been at the discovery of his fat girth. 

Hesitantly inching your fingers closer as you stared, you asked, “can I–…?”

“Mhm,” he hummed as he slowly brought your hand the rest of the way down, engulfing his own grasp around yours and gently showing you how to touch him. 

As a sinful curse flowed from Steve’s lips, his free hand drifted up to weave itself into your hair. 

“Will it hurt?” you watched how your fingers failed to meet on the other side of his girth. 

“I don’t know, I hope not,” his forehead rested against your own, “but if it does, then we just stop and figure something else out, okay?”

“Okay…” you hazily nodded. 

Feeling his fingers flex around your own, you saw precum glint at the bulbous tip. 

“It’s all for you, dove,” you felt him throb at your touch, “all because of you,” a desperate growl then seeped out of his lungs as he seized your lips in a fervent kiss, and the next thing you knew, the whole world fell out from under you as he scooped you up into his arms. When a shrill yelp escaped you, Steve simply readjusted his grip on you and said, “don’t worry, I’ve got you,” nipping gently at your neck, “I won’t let you fall.”

With your fingers still grasping his girth, the new position now had your pussy pressed dangerously close to it, so close that you couldn’t help but sweep the head of his cock through your soppy folds and drench him. Tapping your clit a few times, the instinctual drive of his hips triggered you to simply cup his length near and let him part your pretty petals and lather himself in your needy nectar. Each desperate thrust ended in an electric nudge at your pearl, rendering you to whimper shakily into the night. 

But then suddenly, in the fog of it all, the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside, purely because of just how wet and ready you were. 

“O-oh, fuck!” everything froze as you reeled at the staggering sensation, breathlessly digging your nails into his broad shoulders and leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

“Sorry,” he hastily panted, “you okay?”

“Uh–… uh-huh,” you nodded fuzzily, shutting your eyes a moment as you caught your breath. 

But then as your gaze fluttered open once more, you caught his stare and offered him a short, affirming nod, holding his eye as he slowly began to move. 

Your mouth hung agape as he shallowly fucked you, barely even giving you anything but still turning you into goo in his grasp. 

“Y-you’re so beautiful,” you whispered as you fluttered around him. 

Gliding you’re your palm up to his cheek, moans tumbled out of you both as he gently began to offer you more. Your legs couldn’t help but twitch in his grasp as he practically split you in half with the way he eased you down on his fat cock. 

“You’re doing so well,” his face crumbled up in a silent moan as you felt every detail of him slowly stretch you out, “gods, you’re so wet…”

And the next thing you knew, it wasn’t so slow and steady any longer, as the bookcase your spine was pressed against rattled at his efforts. 

You thought before that just the bulbous head of him was overwhelming, but to have that tip kiss desperately against the deepest part of you was something else entirely. You couldn’t speak, you couldn't think, you could barely even breathe, just go slack in his firm hold and feel him, not just right there, but fucking everywhere, that’s how stuffed you were. 

Steve’s strength wasn’t that novel to you these days, but to have him lift you up and sink you down on his cock, like you were just a leaf on the wind, still managed to amaze you. 

“F-fuck,” you blubbered as you tumbled over the edge once more, “oh, fuck!” accidentally knocking a few books down as one of your arms flailed for purchase. 

You barely registered the loud thud the crashing books emanated as your frame melted down into his hold. Your face buried itself in the crook of his neck as he breathlessly came to a halt, still embedded deep inside of your clenching cunt. 

The sound of his breaths directly in your ear helped to soothe your tingling senses as he rested his cheek against the crown of your head. 

Shifting his feet, Steve carried you the short distance over to the comfortable armchair you’d inhabited earlier. Carefully sitting down in it and keeping you in his lap, his arms silkily slid up your back and hugged you close. 

After persuading you to curl out of your hiding spot by planting soft pecks all over your face, you blinked down at him, bathed in the moonlight that gushed in from the tall window beside where you sat.

Gliding a hand around to your front, Steve gently tugged on the thin string at your neckline, undoing the bow, before he pulled the shoulders down your arms till you slid out of the sleeves and the top of the undergarment crumbled to gather at your waist with the rest of the fabric. 

As he pressed his lips to the peak of your tits, one of his palms accompanied the kisses. A soft whine flowed out of you as your hand slid down to where your bodies were still joined and played with your puffy pearl. 

Casting a glance down, he groaned, “yeah, rub that little clit for me,” and your hips intuitively began to rock gently. 

As you touched yourself, something else caught your attention as you slowly began to ride him. At the lower part of your stomach, you felt the dull bulge of his staggering size poke your palm steadily to the rhythm of your gentle efforts.

Letting your pebbly nipple escape from his lips with a pop, his gravelly timbre washed over you as you slowly rocked, “that’s it, fuck–,” his grip slid down to be firm on your ass, “that’s my girl.”

Abruptly, as if snapping out of a trance, you notice just how loud you both were being.

“Wait,” you shushed him though didn’t halt your hips motions, “we’re in the library, someone could hear us!”

“Then fucking let them hear us,” his fingers dug into your ass as he desperately took over and bounced you in his lap, manhandling you as he slammed you down on his cock hard enough for you to lose your breath, “no one would dare bother us, trust me.”

And before you knew it, your cunt clamped down one last time around his cock, hard enough to halt his efforts and milk him of all of his worth. 

Weakly letting his dick slip out, your skin was practically glued to his as you plastered yourselves to each other and you sensed his hot load slowly leaked out of your sensitive hole. 

As you listened to his heartbeat slowly return to normal and your heavy lids fought to stay open, a thought entered your mind. 

“Hey, Steve?”

Shifting his arms around you, his soft hum washed over you, “hm?”

Keeping your voice low, you shared, “I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight…” but to your surprise, a gentle chuckle then rumbled in his chest, “what?” you lifted your head and blinked up at him, “why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just­­–,” he smiled, gazing down at you as if Zondür himself had divinely created you especially for him, “you really think I’d let you skip off to your room alone after all of that, like it never even happened?” 

Huffing out a short giggle, you lowered your glance, “well, when you put it like that…”

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “if you want me to sleep beside you, I will,” rising from his comfortable seat, he readjusted his grip on you, twisting you to him as he hooked an arm behind your knees and at your back. As he carried you close, he began to lumber out of the library and down the hallway, concurring the short distance to where your chambers lied, “my queen, I would love nothing more for the rest of my days than to fall asleep with your head on my chest and wake up to your softness arching against me…”

Flexing your fingers around his neck, you raised yourself up enough to capture his lips in a tender kiss one last time just as he kicked your bedroom door shut behind you both.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[stuckyslut8]

THE WICKED WITCH .

pairing : orc!ari levinson x witch reader. King steve rogers x witch reader .(medieval au)

Summary :years after being betrayed by your lover steve, you seek the forest orc's help to give you an heir.

Warning: 18+ .angst.smut. breeding kink(just ari pounding you with his monstrous cock) .monsterfucking.period typical sexism. Fluff.

Part 2

There are not a lot of people in this town that cared for you, most detested you for your fate. you didn't mind them, what else was left for you to do anyway, apart from your apothecary business.

Still there are some who have grown fond of you, like the old lady who owns the jewelry store,sally ,and pete the baker, the town's drunk but wise man seth, with whom you've found comfort in many lonely nights , he was a gentle, tender lover ,he was one of a kind truly.

But you needed more than that, more than desperate affairs with the townfolks,more than broken promises from a man who you wish to not speak of and he rather not of you.

"It's only for your safety dove" ,he insisted, "they would kill you if they found out, but i will sort it out, i will marry you one day and make you mine in front of the whole kingdom i promise." But the day never came.

"All men are the same y/n, a prince is no different, or a king as they call him now." Sally said as she heard your misery,which was not a huge secret anyway ,there were always rumours about prince steven rogers getting involved with the evil witch, just to sow his wild oats some say , others say she enchanted him, but only you both know the truth and neither of you were going to speak of it now.

Steven was fine, he was betrothed to princess Margaret of the neighbouring kingdom as soon as his mother found out about the affair, and just like that he was gone , away to the kingdom of carter ,and when he returned he was no longer the steve you knew, he was a married man , then soon his father died and he became the new king. Not that any of that mattered now.

Now you were all alone ,a spinster, a wicked one ,as they say. So in this world full of hatred you wanted something to love, something to call your own ,which is why you had embarked om this journey now.

A rather dangerous one , "be careful y/n orcs are wild creatures, dangerous beasts ."

You thanked sally for her concern and led on with your journey.

Just as you entered the unexplored territory of the mystical forest, you saw it, a giant cottage protected by magical shields, of course you were able to break through it easily, you hoped you don't upset the orc so easily. But oh boy you were wrong, as you moved forward you were yanked back by a large arm to your neck and pinned against a tree. You came face to face with probably the most gorgeous mythical creature ever created, with his long locks, hairy chest, chiseled abs and thick arms, he was only covered by a cloth wrapped around his lower body .

"What are you doing here little witch?" His grip on your neck tightened ,you immediately used your powers to get him off of you. He stepped back picking up the knife that was hidden under his cloth.

"Stop, I'm not here to hurt you." You tried to calm him.

"Then what are you doing here, how did you break my barrier." He questioned you angrily.

"Oh please I'm the wicked witch of the west, this is beneath me." Your words only seem to agitate him more. So you switched your tone. "Anyway I'm only here to ask for your help. " i even brought you offerings" you laid out your bag which was full of things orcs liked.

he looked at it,expression remaining the same, "help? What help could a witch possibly want from an orc?" He realized what you wanted as he completed the sentence, it could only be one thing.

"I uh want you to-"

"You want me to breed you." He said in his deep voice which made slick pool in your core.

"Well if you put it plainly then yes." You said, currently ogling his form more than ever.

"Or Would you like to call it love making,like the humans do?." You noticed the shift in his tone now.

You stepped forward,making the first move boldly as you captured his lips in a fiery kiss, you moaned into it as his thick orc tongue explored your mouth.

"You can call it whatever you want as long as you fuck me with your big orc cock." You said out of breath from the kiss. This made him laugh out loud. "You do have a dirty mouth on you little witch, i like it." He said as he cupped your breast through your thin barely there linen dress you wore on purpose.

"I will breed you." He said at once. ",but under one condition. " you were no longer paying attention to his words as his fingers explored your body. "You will have to live with me "

"What? Here?" You asked looking around.

"Yes, where else?"

"What about my home?"

"Where do you live?"

"In the town nearby, brookenhaim." Ari huffed in response, "with humans? ,i thought they didn't like your kind." He said.

"They uh..we get along fine, i own an apothecary so uh yes......i live there, i can't just leave it all behind and come here and live with you in the middle of nowhere."

"Where's your coven? Or any family?" You went silent for a moment not knowing what to say ,you didn't come here to be questioned like this ,you came here to fuck.

"Where's yours?" You were met with the same silence.

"Look we dont have to do it this way mister.."

"Ari..ari levinson." You gave him your name in return.

"Right..ari " you poked a finger to his chest, as he looked at you mockingly, for your desperate attempts to intimidate him. "We're not getting married for fucks sake,so don't think much about my predicament, i just want a quick fuck ,get knocked up and leave." He smirked again at your words."what?"

"I didn't know witches were so uncivilized, and for one living with humans, you sound far from it."

"Uncivilized? You're a fucking orc ,living in the middle of nowhere, don't talk to me about being civil." You were furious now, ari could sense it,so he tried to soothe you.

"Alright, alright, i didn't mean to judge little witch, you can do whatever you want, but listen a mating period is very important for orcs, so atleast until you get pregnant i want you to be with me and that would also be convenient for breeding you i hope."

You thought about it for a moment, "alright, i dont think it'll take too long for me to get pregnant anyway, that is if you do a good enough job." You were back in your seductive mood now.

"Oh you worry about yourself little witch." He said giving you his signature smile and placing a kiss to he back of your palm.

You went back to town immediately, closed your apothecary ,took your precious belongings which was not much by the way, and your necessities for your stay with the orc and returned to his cottage. You looked forwards to saying goodbye to sally and pete , but were disappointed when you learnt that they were at the town festival dancing the night away, one which you were not a part of anyway, and would mostly be greeted by frowns, so you never bothered going again.

So here you were, alone in ari's cottage, you'd offered to make dinner with your homemade pasta you brought from town, while ari was out chopping woods for the night.

Ari came back after a while,looking all sweaty and worked up , you almost dropped the pot looking at him.

He ate the dinner you made, "hmm that's really good sweetheart, haven't eaten like this in a long time." You didn't know what he means by a long time, but didn't wanna pester him with more personal questions. So you questioned him about what you came for,

"So when are you gonna fuck me orc?" You asked teasingly.

"Eager aren't we pretty girl?" You almsot blushed at the nicknames he's been giving you, you. "Go wait for me on the bed...naked."

You nodded and proceeded to do as he said , taking of your dress and your undergarments, standing on your hands and knees , presenting yourself for him like an orc mate would.

Ari barged in the door , awestruck as he looked at your form, "hmm didn't know you knew about orc mating postions, little witch." He commented as he neared you, hands gripping your hips, positioning you for his comfort.

"I came prepared orc." You said as he toyed with your clit ,other hand moving to your breasts, lips leaving a trail of wet kisses on your shoulder.

You could do nothing but moan, and try to stop your knees from wobbling. Just then his mouth reached your pussy, his thick tongue licking a long stripe , spreading your wetness everywhere. "Hmm that's the prettiest pussy ever sweetheart. " you whimpered as he pushed his tongue into your hole, "hmm the tightest too, I've only ever fucked orcs, and they could barely take me, i don't know how this tight little witch cunt is gonna take all of me pretty girl."

His words only turned you on more, "but don't worry I'll stretch you out real good and leave you begging for more." He landed a sharp smack to your ass, the pleasure of which went striaght to your core.

Ari kept his promise and stretched you out, first with his finger, and then his massive orc tongue, then added more fingers, until you cried from the pleasure begging him to let you cum, and he did eventually after edginf you on for an hour. You fell onto your stomach as you orgasmed, losing your position that the orc seemed to love so much. So he brougt you back on your hands and knees, supporting you with his arms so you stay in position.

"I was just getting started little witch, now show me how badly you wanna take my seed, show me how good you can take this cock." He pushed the tip into you slowly, letting you adjust to his size, once you got comfortable, he started pounding into you, with such brutal force you gripped the sheets as you writhed in pleasure, you could hear his grunts too and filthy words that slipped his mouth as he fucked into you. 'You're taking me so good lottle witch, that pretty cunt is gripping me so good.' 'Aagh tightest pussy I've ever had, just the way i like it.'

"Fuck ,fuck ari I'm gonna cum." You cried out as you neared your orgasm, "cum for me little witch." And you did for the fitth time that night, you could feel ari getting sloppy, he was nraring his orgasm too, but he picked up his phase again and fucked into you real good, with a lpud grunt he came in you without warning, filling you up to the brim with his warm cum.

You both laid in bed facing the ceiling, caching your breath,ari turned his head towords you ,"so it's true what they say about witches."

"What ?" You raised your eyebrows.

"You have the tightest pussies out of all the creatures in the mystical forest." He daid jokingly.

You slapped his arm, lightly too fucked out of your brains to respond to orc's comment properly. "You like tight pussies?" You aksed after a moment.

"They're the best." You huffed at his response."is that the only thing you look for in a woman?"

"Hmm only you could turn a compliment into a debate little witch....No,There's much more obviously."

"And what if she didn't have a tight cunt, what then."

"It doesn't matter ,when you accept someone as your mate, you don't care about anything else, you only care about cherishing them with all you have."

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed ,you looked around to see ari already in the kitchen making breakfast.

"Good morning little witch. " he stood there in all his glory.

"Good morning ari."

"I can't cook like you but i made something with the berries i gathered, here have a taste." He fed you his berry custard with a spoon, which you licked and hummed at the taste.

"It tastes so sweet ari." You moaned ,"but i think i need something salty to start the morning."

"I'm afraid i dont have anything salty to offer you sweetheart." He said genuinely. "This isn't the town where you can get-"

Just then you sank to your knees and pulled off ari's only clothing covering his body, "hmm i think you have plenty to offer me orc."

Ari's words died down in his throat. You took the tip of his member in your mouth, sucking it sweetly ,all the while looking at ari, you saw his pupils dilate, eye's turning dark filled with lust and pleasure.

He groaned in pleasure, as you licked a lond stripe along his cock the same way you licked the custard off the spoon. You used your hands to play with his balls, adding to his pleasure.

Ari knew he wasn't gonna last, he was thinking about you all morning, wanting to fuck you in your sleep, but he didn't wanna come of as being so desperate, he wanted to maintain his composure, so he opted to cooking instead, but here you were sucking his cock first thing in the morning ,bobbing your head up and down his member ,barley fitting in all of him in your mouth.

He came fast ,hard, spurting his ropes of white cum into your throat, which you swallowed willingly. "Hmm tastes so delicious orc..so it's true what hey say about orc's semen too huh? Tastes so good. Leaves you wanting for more." You said as you took him in your mouth one more time.

"Save some for that pretty cunt of yours little witch -oh just like that keep going." You slowed down your pace giving him kitten licks ,teasing him and having him on edge, likw he did to you last night, just then ari took control, he grabbed you by your hair and started fuckint your mouth roughly, you couldn't help but grind yourself on his leg at the same time.

He moaned your name as ge was about to come in your mouth you were ready to taste him, but he pulled out just in time to come all over your face and chest. "Hmm you look sp pretty like this little witch, painted in my cum."

You pouted, "but i wanted to taste your cum." Ari simply laughed at your pouting.

"Later little witch, let me fuck you now." He gave you his hand to lift you off your feet.

A/N : pls do reblog and let me know if you need more of this series.

[holyluluslibrary]

Library reblog

Two Kings (3)

Summary: You have fallen in love with the king of Brooklyn. When your wedding day arrives, there is much more to discover about the man you fell in love with than you thought…

Pairing: Prince!Steven Grant Rogers x Princess!Reader  

Warnings: angst, modern royal au, dystopian world (kinda), fluff, young love

A/N: We are living in modern times, but in a dystopian/post war world. Almost every technology got destroyed. (We will get to know how in later chapters.)

Two kings masterlist

<< Part 2

Two years later, age of sixteen, …

EMP. Three simple letters.

Of course, it was much more complicated, and horrid when the world you never had the privilege to know ended.

One of the second sons invented something called EMP. One of the strongest weapons back then. At least history books tell you so.

One moment people chatted on a device called a mobile phone and the next they got thrown back into the dark age.

Weiterlesen

[stellar-solar-flare]

The Literary Universe Of StellarSolarFlare

Welcome to my little library of fanfiction! Please note that my blog is a 18+ only space, and all content is intended for adults only. Minors do not interact - you are not welcome here and will be blocked.

I currently have my requests CLOSED. My side blog with only fic updates is HERE.

Reblogs, comments, thoughts, asks and everything along the lines are very welcome! I also welcome constructive criticism, emphasis on constructive. My replies to things might be delayed due to life & using the queue function (although my tagging of queue posts is inconsistent at best), so it's definitely not personal if I don't reply immediately.

LATEST WORKS:

Cinderella Magic | S. R. | T+ | fluff, friends-to lovers a 3-sentence fic about Steve being a good dad | S. R. | G showing Nat your Halloween costume | N. R. | T+ tempting Steve at a Halloween Party | S. R. | T+ coming home to Steve after a long day | S. R. | Ggetting ready for a Halloween Party with Steve | S. R. | T+

Latest Sunday WIP Update: 29th of September 2024.

About my writing:

mostly Steve Rogers x Reader and Steve Rogers x OFC (some Bucky Barnes /Reader and Tony Stark/Reader thrown in too!)

Readers that tend to be described as smart, intelligent, slightly socially awkward types that often have STEM-related jobs in-universe.

romance, romantasy, and healthy relationships, usually combined with an action-adventure plot.

Slow Burn, Protective Steve Rogers, Idiots In Love, Mutual Pining, Forced Proximity, Pretend Relationship, Chosen Family, Fluff & Hurt/Comfort, and Fix-Its.

If you were around during the 'Everyone lives at the Tower' era, I never really left that place: Most of my work takes place in an AU where SHIELD fell right after the events of the first Avengers movie, and something called The Avengers Initiative, funded by Tony and strategically led by Steve took its place.

I am a longfic person at heart. For logistical reasons, my really long longfics live on my AO3 - the links on this list that lead to AO3 have a little (AO3) after them. I don't have plans to post all my past work onto tumblr, but my fics on AO3 are open for guests, and guests can leave comments too. I will also make a post on tumblr when I update a story that is on AO3.

HALL OF FAME - my own favorites!

For Centuries (AO3) | Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader | Explicit

As the only daughter of King Howard Stark of Richford, you have always known that you are expected to eventually enter into a political marriage. When King Howard attempts to save his kingdom by marrying you off to the conqueror of half the world, you accept the responsibility bestowed on you. But as you arrive at the court of Emperor Steven the Righteous to be wedded and crowned the Empress of the Centurial Empire, your husband-to-be is not what you expected.

Reader is the daughter of Howard Stark and his second wife, who is not named or described. This is a 'From Political Marriage to Love Marriage' story, featuring lots of romantasy elements, court politics, and protective, righteous Emperor Steve Rogers. The 'Touch her and I'll kill you.' vibes are strong with this one. The slowest of burns.

WIP - 18/x chapters published.

Astronomical Odds (AO3) | Steve Rogers x Reader | Explicit

When you met Steve Rogers, the spark was definitely there, and the way you two hit off made one thing lead to another. But the consequences of that night will reach a lot further than either of you thought. Because now that you're pregnant - despite the astronomical odds - you and Steve need to navigate the situation after having known each other for exactly one night (and the two and a half weeks he spent off the grid on a mission). That wouldn't be an easy thing to do, even if he wasn't a superhero and you weren't trying to become the next Nikola Tesla (or Tony Stark).

So, people really need to stop implying that this is sign you two are meant to be, because honestly, it's just a mess. And Steve really needs to stop proposing to you.

An accidental pregnancy fic with lots of chosen family themes, and Steve and Reader figuring out each other and the upcoming baby situation. Heavy on romance, fluff, and not only Steve but the rest of the Avengers, too, being protective and caring of Reader, who is a literature nerd studying to be an aerospace engineer. Features some discussion of medical realities of pregnancy, and some supersoldier biology related issues.

WIP - 24/x chapters published.

Brilliant Steel (AO3) | Steve Rogers x OFC, platonic Bucky & OFC | Explicit

The AI Head Strategist, Captain Steve Rogers's world implodes as a wave of inexplicable, supernatural events washes over the globe. The blame is quickly pinned on former HYDRA operatives, the recently de-programmed Sergeant James Barnes among them. With no good options left, Steve and Bucky go rogue in an attempt to uncover and neutralize the threat before it swallows the world whole. The problem: the brilliant mind that might be the key to solving all this belongs to a woman Steve once scorned, and she won’t be happy to find him standing at her doorstep.

In an effort to save the world, Steve and Bucky team up with a woman that Steve once thought would be much more than a teammate. In a universe much more vast and stranger than anyone ever thought, they’ll have to learn to rely on each other — wits and gifts and weirdness and all — to keep said world on its rails.

WIP - 5/x chapters published.

LONGFICS

A Fairytale Of A Disaster | Steve x Doctor!Reader | Explicit

Reader has been stood up by her Valentine's Date. Or has she? Romance, fluff, meet-cute, hurt/comfort. WIP, 3/4.

Equinox (AO3)| soft dark mob boss Steve Rogers x superpowered Reader | Explicit

When you’re caught in the crossfires of a war brewing underground, Steve does what he has to. And as you get pulled deeper into his world, it may very well turn out that starlight can scorch, too. A dark romance story about a woman scorned and a man who is so much more than he seems. WIP, 10/x.

Volatile | Steve Rogers x Scientist!Avenger!Reader | Explicit

Reader has been subjected to an aphrodisiac while on a mission. Steve and the medical team attempt to find a solution. Smut with feelings, eventual fluff, eventual happy ending. Complete, 3/3.

ONESHOTS

(Headcanons and drabbles have their separate list HERE.)

Cinderella Magic | Steve Rogers x Reader | Teen and Up Audiences

The entire thing had been like something out of a movie, starting from how Steve – to you just Steve, one of the regulars at the bookshop you ran – had barged into the store yesterday and blurted out that he desperately needed a date. Fluff, romance, friends-to-lovers. 828 words.

Warmth | Steve Rogers x Chronically Ill Reader | Mature

Steve is the most caring husband and the best heating pad in the world. Even on the bad days when you don't feel easy to love. Hurt/comfort, established relationship, protective Steve Rogers. 1,771 words.

Worthy | Steve Rogers x Reader | Mature

You and Steve Rogers have been dating for a year. When a journalist is out to get you, you will have to stand together and come out stronger. Romance, angst with a happy ending, fluff & hurt/comfort, protective Steve Rogers. Reader has past trauma and unspecified mental health issues. 2,045 words.

(This list is a work in progress and will be updated as I publish more things on tumblr!)

My taglist is open! Drop an ask / reply / reblog and I'll add you on (must be 18+ to join). Let me know if you'd like to be tagged to all fic, Steve fic, just a specific story, etc.

[buckets-and-trees]

Congrats again on 300 my love ❤️❤️ so you may already know which AU I’m going to be requesting, because it’s my favourite story of yours (so far) and that is Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree!! This story made my heart ache and if you have the inspiration for it I’d love love love to see more!! I don’t want to restrict your imagination by being too specific, but literally anything with those two and I would die of happiness 💙💙

Em, I squealed when you dropped this into my box for the request fest! Partly because I adore you. Partly because you know I also really adore Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree. And partly I squealed out of terror because...I was worried I wouldn't be able to do any kind of follow up to this fic justice. But I took a deep breath and let that go and decided to just let whatever happen happen. I was also a little worried because when I wrote Cedar Tree, it felt very finished, so I didn't have any leftover thoughts to pick up and play around with, so I literally took that first week to just think about them and their story. And then... a lot of scenes started to emerge - stuff before and after Cedar Tree, stuff that was just them, stuff with the people around them.

This is where I landed for now. It's not the same as Cedar Tree - first thing being that it's told from Steve's perspective instead of the reader's - but I'm thinking it will make sense in their overall narrative.

This it the end of their honeymoon, a few weeks before Cedar Tree.

Title: The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are Characters/Pairings: King!Steve Rogers x female!Queen!Reader, brief Sam and Bucky Word Count: 1.2k Summary: The final night and morning of King Steven's royal honeymoon.

Content/Warnings: smut: vaginal intercourse/penetration

Additional Notes: The third offering to celebrate 300 followers with the request fest! While this depicts events before Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree, it does not stand alone and should be read AFTER reading the original piece. Song title inspiration from Better Love by Hozier, which is one of the songs on my original Cedar Tree writing playlist. A/N 2: This still is pretty arbitrary, but although I knew the original was a historical royal AU setting, I basically closed my eyes and pointed when I ended up saying it was medieval. I debated between medieval or Georgian/regency vibe, but NOW it's decidedly Georgian, which will be more relevant if/as I share more of their story in the future.

It’s as he’s on his back, staring at the ceiling, that Steve realizes he’s already deciphered the difference between how it sounds when you’re asleep, when you’re awake, and when you’re somewhere in between. He didn’t expect that.

He expected a lot of things after taking you as his queen, but there were so many small things that make sense, but he simply hadn’t thought of, like this – knowing so quickly the sounds of your breathing.

Ten days and in some ways he knew so much more about you than he knew about anyone else but himself – more than he’d known about his parents, than Bucky whom he’d grown up with and trusted else as his closest friend and advisor, more than his general Sam who he trusted with the security of his kingdom and his own life.

The betrothal, the brief period of engagement, the wedding, and the wedding feast had all been very public and formal. The moment the two of you had entered the royal carriage to make the journey to his small palace in the lake country for the honeymoon, everything was suddenly private and intimate. It was the first time Steve had truly been alone with you, and the first moments alone would have been awkward – he certainly hadn’t thought about that moment until suddenly the two of you were there alone – but you had clearly thought of the circumstance in advance and had been prepared to make easy conversation. While the first few minutes had been an effort to make conversation, they swiftly did progress to easy conversation. The topics had been largely trivial and unimportant, but the words were not stilted.

After a late and quick supper upon arrival, the two of you had retired to the royal bedchamber. Steve had expected a dutiful consummation, and duty may have called for the deed, but the execution had unexpectedly run deeper, warmer, with the undertones of the fledgling familiarity built over the few hours alone earlier. Each day the familiarity grew, and though there could have perhaps been moments that could have allowed each of you two part naturally, you both drew each other into extending conversations, going on walks or rides or visiting a new area of the palace together, continuing formally in the first few days until it became merely natural and the two of you forgot altogether the idea of spending much of the time apart.

Now he understood the nostalgia with which many referred to the honeymoon. It was a pity it was coming to an end. Two weeks ago, you were little more than strangers to be wed and fulfill your royal duties. Here on this final night, he could not think of it ending. Tomorrow he would go back to being the king again.

He sighed and turned his head to look at you. He wanted to reach for you, pull you closer, touch you, but the touching wouldn’t be enough, and he’d said sensibly that the two of you should retire early specifically so he could sleep and be well rested for his early departure. He hadn’t thought you warming his bed would be torture. He thought that it would be soothing and help him sleep. But this was worse, and the longer he listened, the less it seemed sleep would ever come to him. But he would not leave or send you away, it was the last night he would have this kind of closeness afforded to him with ease. He also didn’t want to disturb you if you were perhaps close to dropping off to sleep. Nearness was enough, even if it meant no sleep.

Suddenly you shifted, rolling to lie on your back, and you let out a long sigh of your own.

“Sleep alluding you, my queen?”

“As it seems to be alluding you, my king. I know the time is only slipping away until you’re required to wake and depart. Is my restless state keeping you awake?”

Steve laughed. “Perhaps, but not in the way you think.”

He rolled up on his elbow and places a hand on your hip, drawing circles there with his fingers.

“Perhaps I can beckon sleep for both of us in…other ways.”

His hand moved up to cup your breast. He gave a squeeze and brushed his thumb over your nipple, the thin fabric of your night shift barely there. You whimpered his name, arching slightly into his palm.

“Yes?” he pressed.

“Yes,” you pleaded.

While he reached down to pull up the hem of your nightdress, your hands went quickly to free his growing desire for you. Quickly he shifted his body over yours, nestling between your eagerly parting legs. He smiled as he guided his cock to your heated folds, happy to find you were already wet. He looked up to your face, and you bit your lip before reaching your hands up to his jaw and drawing him down to meet your lips. Steve devoured you with his kiss as he plunged into you, and you gave yourself up to him completely until you were both exhausted and sleep finally overtook you.

When one of his esquires woke him in the pre-dawn glow, he suppressed a groan of agitation. It is not the kind of king he has ever wanted to portray to his subjects. He will always be a dignified king. He was diligent in making sure you were tucked in with propriety before falling asleep himself, but he looks over to make sure your modesty is preserved this morning now with someone else in the room. He wants to kiss you goodbye, and while part of him wants nothing more than to wake you, see your eyes look up at him before he leaves, he refrains from doing anything more than brushing the hair off and away from your face with only the lightest caress. It would be silly to wake you for any more sentimentality. The honeymoon is truly over, and he only feels this consuming tie because of the unique circumstances of here and now. When you are both back in the capitol, it will be more normal and less sentimental. He will be himself again.

Downstairs in the hall there were simple foods ready for him to break his fast, and Lord Barnes and General Wilson were both waiting and ready to receive their king. Barnes would accompany him to Stark’s kingdom, but Wilson was there to escort the queen back to the castle.

“Guard her with your life,” Steve commanded.

Wilson gave a slight bow. “Yes, my king.”

Steve turns to look at Barnes only to find a smirk on the man’s face. “What is so amusing at this hour?”

“You gave that order as if he hasn’t been in your service for years.”

“She is the queen,” Steve reminded them.

“I will afford her the same safety and security that I have for your majesty since given the responsibility of this position.”

Steve shook his head, “You should afford her more than you do me.”

Without hesitation, he responded, “It will be done.”

Steve strode out of the foyer and Barnes fell in just one step behind him. “We need not rush away from the palace so soon. The official royal business of Stark’s expo does not require you so immediately.”

“This was the plan,” Steve retorted, “why would we alter course?”

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return to your queen,” he agreed.

“The sooner we can return to my kingdom, Lord Barnes.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

read more of the CEDAR TREES COLLECTION

read the next part: A SHIFT IN THE MORNING ROUTINE

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[justiceiswater]

I’m ready!!! I’m ready for a touch of happiness, a little bit of courting maybe, a some soft smiles here and there. I think it’s awful bold of Steve to say something as dumb as “I didn’t mean it!” Cuz he very much did mean to push her away. It’s only when he actually faced his emotions he saw his mistake. But if I loved him like princess loves him then I can let it go too.

Pseudo Princess Pt.13

Amends Through Timber

10/29/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 6,020

Warnings: language, angst

A/N: This one actually got away from me. It was supposed to have more but this is where it went. Next chapter we’ll know the answer to everyone’s burning question. I hope you enjoy this one. Let me know what you like! If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Tags are CLOSED for this story!

Keep reading

[justalonelyslytherin]

My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | six

previous chapter | Masterlist | next chapter

Pairing: secret king!Steve Rogers x heir apparent!female Reader

Summary: The search for clothing continues. With it, the discovery of more personal things comes.

Warnings: slight mention of parental loss

Wordcount: 4.4k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don’t allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don’t steal my work.

A/N: The dividers are made by @/firefly-graphics. As you might have noticed (again) this chapter took a long time to be posted. University is still to blame for this. I started working on my thesis but hopefully I'll be able to get back to posting a new chapter every 2-ish weeks!

Taglist: open, in the reblogs, let me know if you want to be added

“Hey Steve, do you have a clue where exactly those clothes are supposed to be? So we got a place to start looking?” Sam’s voice carried out of the room.

"Yeah, punk. We’ll be occupied for the rest of the week if not.” Bucky complained shortly after. It was no surprise he did, she understood as she followed Steve - at last - into the room. 

For a storage room, it was big. And for its proportions, it was well used. The walls were stacked with shelves and drawers that stretched from bottom to ceiling. Every available wall space that wasn’t stacked with furniture had either frames hung on the wall or propped against it.

Even the middle of the room was filled with more clustered space. More shelves to divide the room into smaller sections. She could barely see the other end of the room, the only hint of its end was the soft light coming in from the outside.

There were gaps between the books and other items stacked in the compartments. Through one such crack she spied the blonde hair of her youngest sister as Yelena stood before the middle shelf and eyed what looked to be a toy car carved out of wood.

“There should be a couple of chests or an old cabinet,” Steve drew out slowly and contemplatively as he looked through the room. She had the distinct feeling that he was still overwhelmed. If not from the room itself anymore then from the sheer vastness of it.

“How come all of this is here?” Yelena wanted to know, peeking behind the shelf with furrowed brows. “I thought you rented this place.” 

That caused the men – or rather Sam and Bucky – to laugh. She couldn’t share this amusement and neither could Natasha, as the two sisters shared a look. Back was the uncomfortable twisting in her gut.

“The cabin belongs to my family,” Steve spoke over the quieting laughter of his friends, “the clothes are leftovers from our frequent stays in the past.”

“How can you afford to keep a place like this over the years? Does the crown pay you that well as simple guards?” Natasha’s question had a certain bite to it. If any of them had been offended by the degradation of their jobs, they didn’t show it.

No, instead they took it with humor. Bucky snorted, a pleased and somewhat prideful smirk adorning his lips.

“We are not simple guards. We are the guards.” 

Sam nodded in agreement, a twinning grin on his lips. “We are part of the royal guard. The bodyguards of the king.” 

“Sam.” Steve’s warning, disapproving tone was directed only at his friends while his eyes were focused entirely elsewhere. Her. The hitch of her breath must have been loud enough for the blond beside her to hear. 

It had been a bad enough revelation that they’d been guards in the king's palace in Brooklyn’s capital. This was so much worse. Once more the dreaded feeling returned to the pit of her stomach. She’d lead her sisters directly into the lion's den without meaning to do so. 

“Even so,” Yelena crossed her arms before her chest, nose raised challengingly. She didn’t seem too impressed with the new revelation. Her and Natasha had always been good at masking their surprise. And while Yelena lacked the talent at hiding her pure and childlike excitement, every other emotion she could hide just as well as Natasha behind an unimpressed exterior. “So long as you aren’t the king's best friend I don’t believe your pay to be good enough to be able to afford this place.”

“You are right. But a nobleman rarely needs to worry about money. Right, Steve?” Bucky glanced at his blonde friend and she wanted to close her eyes and be swallowed by the waters of the great lake.

She’d thought too soon. It had gotten even worse. 

Too much. It was all too much. 

“Just shut up for a minute, would you? You are making it worse.” Steve’s bark sounded closer than he had been before. It wasn’t his voice that pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts eventually, it was his hands on her shoulders. Something about the contact between him and her felt so soothing and grounding. Looking up she found him directly in front of her, his eyes already intensely looking at her.

“You gotta stop worryin’.”

His voice was soft and had an unlike drawl to it that she hadn’t heard before. The quip of his lip suggested amusement, maybe teasing but the softness in his eyes told her he wanted to calm her. “I’ll tell you as many times as you need to believe: You guys are safe with us. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. And there is nothing that will change this either. Ok?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, pushing his hands away from her in a moment of defense. She kept acting like a spooked goose, honking and running in circles. Time to stop acting like a scared little girl and return back to the soon-to-be ruler of an entire nation. She couldn’t act so foolish. She was a princess. A future queen. Time to act like it. 

“I just didn’t expect you to dump that kind of revelation on us. Again.”

“It’s like us saying we are related to the widovian throne.” Natasha stayed entirely unbothered by her glare for that comment.

“That’d be a shocker,” Sam claimed with a snort. Yeah, wouldn’t it?

“Because it’s impossible,” Steve acclaimed, looking at them with exasperation. If he just knew. “Can we get back to concentrating on the task at hand?”

She could only agree, she wanted to focus on the simple task. One that wouldn’t set her off with more worry and uncertainty about their entire entanglement. Sighing she combed her fingers through her hair, rubbing over her scalp. “Are there any more things you’d like to tell us before I get another shock?”

Steve looked at her apologetically. The shake of his head was all she needed to drop her shoulders and nod. Alright. She could handle it if they didn’t jump another thing onto them. Like one of them being the King's brother.

“I do have some more questions,” Natasha quipped cooly. She was leaning with her shoulder against the middle shelf and looking at the three men with scrutiny. 

“Guess we can answer a couple while we look for the clothes.”

“It’s only fair since we grilled you yesterday. Your turn now,” Sam also agreed, grinning relaxedly. 

“So, where do we start?” Yelena wanted to know, running her fingers over the spine of a couple of books.

“There.” Bucky pointed into a corner left to them, where a couple of chests stood. They didn’t look particularly special, not standing out in any way but the brunette seemed confident in his choice. After all, he knew this place. Maybe he remembered some of the places the clothes had been stored in.

A big cloud of dust took to the air after the thick layer was disrupted  by Sam and Bucky. Each of them had taken to one side of the big chest, scooting the huge wooden construct forward before they’d lifted the heavy lid up. 

The price for it was the beige, gray shimmer in the air, the result of the many particles of dust going everywhere. The two men had been enveloped in it nearly instantly but the rest of them weren’t spared either. Quickly the dust raced to tickle everyone’s noses. It didn’t take long for the sneezes and coughs to erupt.

Natasha – surprisingly – was the fastest to recover from the powdery onslaught and while they still waved their hands in front of their faces or squinted their watering eyes, she leaned with her shoulder against the nearest shelf, looking at the chest.

“So all three of you are noble brats?” Her lips were pulled into a sly and teasing grin. Sam huffed more in surprise than in offense.

“These two–” he nodded towards Steve and Bucky, “–yeah. I’m a simple fisherman’s son from one of the coastal towns.”

The protests coming from said ‘noble brats’ went unheeded by Natasha and Sam. Instead, the redhead continued, undeterred.

“How does a simple fisherman’s son end up as one of the king's bodyguards?”

“Met ‘em in the military.”

“Him? Personally?” She blurted surprised, beating Natasha to the word.

“Yeah we, uhm, we all served in the same unit.” Steve butted in stepping beside her, arms loosely crossed in front of his chest. He glanced over at Sam. The two of them shared a brief and entirely silent conversation before he continued, “He found friends in us, thought us to be loyal. And when our service came to an end he wanted to have his most trusted friends close to him and so he offered us the jobs.” 

She watched their lips twitch up into smiles. There was warmth and pride in their smiles but also in the way they held themselves. 

Natasha, content with the answer and the provided information jumped to the next topic. This time her eyes turned towards the third in their bunch. The brunette was hunched over the chest, one arm bracing himself on the edge of the chest, while his other hand dug around its contents.

“How do you know widovian?” 

Bucky’s head snapped up. He smirked at Natasha, a playful glint shining in his eyes. The redhead wasn’t as amused and neither was she. No, she was very curious to listen to his explanation. There weren’t many people outside of Widovia – and Sokovia – who could speak their national language. Not anymore.

With the complete closure of their borders and their retreat into solitude the lands around them had ceased to show interest in their culture. It was hard for her to imagine that people outside would have still learned to pick up the language.

Why then, did a man born and raised in their enemy country, with no apparent descent from their home, possess the ability to speak their mother tongue? 

“I figured you’d want to know that,” Bucky told them relaxed and confident. He didn’t feel called out, nor scrutinized and he certainly didn’t see anything wrong with it either. Leaning against the chest his eyes jumped from Natasha to Yelena to her. All three were now closely paying attention to him.

“That doesn’t answer the question.” Yelena frowned, raising her eyebrow in return as she waited, rather impatiently, for him to give his answer. A proper one. 

The way he shrugged his shoulders so nonchalantly had her clench her jaw. She knew he wasn’t meaning to offend them but to them it was a matter of offense and pride, and in a smaller part also about safety. Their people inside the borders were only safe as long as those borders stayed impenetrable. Every way that something could slip out could be a way for something – or someone – to slip in too.

“There was an old man,” he started, “who I met after I joined the army. He’d lived in Widovia for many years as an emissary prior to the conflict. Just before Widovia closed its borders he returned home. He taught me.

A little only.”

“Yeah, we can tell. Your pronunciation is shit.” Yelena’s dryness never ceased to amaze. Steve and Sam started laughing while Bucky winced, scratching at his chin in embarrassment. Even her lips quipped up in amusement at the unforgiving words.

“Holy shit is something wrong with you?” There was no heartbeat wasted by her sister as the blonde looked at her suspiciously. At least Yelena had the heart to look concerned and not disgusted. 

“Why?”

“Where is the stern ‘Yelena’?” She should be mad at the way her sister imitated her scolding voice. “Where is the disapproving look for mocking someone? Your usual lecture?”

“Well, you are right. He sounds bad.”

“Like a tyro.” Natasha agreed with another smirk on her lips. 

While Bucky clasped his hand to his chest, looking at the three of them in mocking hurt, acting as if they just ripped out his heart, Steve furrowed his brow and asked “What’s a–what was that word you said?”

“A tyro?” She asked the adorably confused-looking blonde.

“Yeah, that,” he nodded. She could see he wanted to try to pronounce it, the desire, the way the world lay on the tip of his tongue. Yet he refrained from trying, not wanting to make a complete fool out of himself.

“It’s a somewhat mocking, playful term for a beginner. A rookie you would call it?”

“Whatever it means, please just keep calling him that. Especially with that delectable accent of yours. I didn’t know widovian could sound so good and seductive.”

The glare Bucky sent toward Sam was murderous. Surprising – and something she herself didn’t notice but Natasha very well did – was Steve’s lesser but still pronounced glare towards Sam for the flirtatious remark.

“How about less bickering and more looking?” Yelena quipped, pointing towards the chest Bucky leaned against. In his hand, he held something out of fabric. Had he found something already?

When the brunette held it up however it was nothing any of them would be able to wear. The shirt clearly had belonged to either one of them as small boys. Now it looked comically small in the buff man’s hands.

“No luck.”

So they turned towards the next chest to find something in there. While Sam and Bucky cleared the space and freed the chest from everything that had been stacked on top of it, nothing remained to do for the rest of them.

To pass the time waiting she found herself looking around the room. It felt like a treasury. Every book, every little trinket that littered the spaces of the shelves, felt to her like a magnificent find. Each one told a story about the past, about the time Steve spent here, about the other people that used to reside in this place. Not only was it a glimpse into those people’s lives and their beings but also into another culture. Another glimpse at Brooklyn, so personal and intimate.

Her roaming eyes caught the glimpse of a wardrobe through a gap in the shelf. It looked big, reaching over the top of the shelf towards the ceiling. Something about it pulled her in. It had caught her curiosity. 

Slowly she slipped from the preoccupied group. Walking through the opposite aisle between the shelves, she reached the opposite side of the room.

There, before her stood the massive wooden wardrobe in its entire glory. The intricately carved details on its doors held her in awe, the round brass knobs were just as beautifully decorated with swirls and other patterns. It looked magical. Like a wardrobe out of fairytales, ones that held magical clothes and items and ones that held secret passageways to another world beyond their grasp and understanding.

The wood felt smooth and luxurious under her fingers. There was a keyhole out of brass but no key anywhere in sight. Please don’t be locked. 

“You found another place to look through?” For once Steve didn’t startle her. She glanced back as he stepped up, looking at the wardrobe before her. He eyed it from top to bottom, ending on her fingers about to follow the outline of the keyhole. “Think it’s open?”

“I hope so.” Letting her hand drop, she took a step back until she was at level with him. 

“Listen, I’m sorry,” Steve sighed, rubbing his neck as he looked at her in apology. “I didn’t want to scare you…didn’t want those idiots to dump all of that on you guys.” 

There was a smile splitting its way across her lips as Steve mumbled beside her. It was sweet. “It’s not your fault,” she told him, stopping him in his ramblings.

“Well, I should have told you in the first place.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. There was no reason for any of you to bring this up unprompted and there was no way for you to know whether I would react…well like that.” 

Steve looked at her softly, his eyes searching and when they found what they were looking for, he softly but quietly asked, “Why did you react like that?”

Parting her lips she couldn’t come up with any words to answer him, so she closed her mouth again. Her lips pressed together tightly as she thought about it. Why? The answer was fairly simple yet she felt so troubled to pronounce it. 

“It’s my fault if something happens to them,” she told him after a long, contemplative silence. Glancing behind her, through the cracks in the shelves, she spied her sisters. “I can’t let anything happen to them.”

Steve followed her gaze, turning his head back to watch the group of four unlikely individuals. These girls were peculiar. Mystery clouded around them like thick wads of smoke. They were peculiar but also special.

Something told him she was particularly special. Something in the way she held herself, something about the almost unbound curiosity mixed with a distinctive hesitancy she displayed. She was an enigma and it made him all the more curious.

Steve couldn’t deny the strong pull he felt toward this beautiful, mysterious woman. He couldn’t keep away, he couldn’t help seek her out. All he wanted to do was be by her side and look at her. He wanted to make her smile. He wanted to be the one to show her the world. To show her his world. The one that was so familiar to him yet so foreign and strange to her.

“Nothing will happen to you, I promise,” he told her and with a more serious note he added, “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.” 

Her eyes softened at his words, the worry in them dissipated. It was replaced by a touch of sadness so heavy that it made Steve’s heart painfully constrict. He wanted to reach out and cradle her in his arms, to wipe the sadness from her beautiful face. The urge to protect them grew only stronger. 

She couldn’t know, she had to believe him to be a silly man with wishful thinking and promises too big to keep. That whatever safety he promised wouldn’t be enough. They’d obviously gone through a lot if she was this hesitant and anticipating danger around every corner. If she only knew what kind of might he held and what he was willing to sacrifice after knowing her for less than two days.

“Shall we try to open it?” She cleared her throat and averted her eyes in favor of gazing back at the wardrobe. A feeling of defeat settled in Steve’s stomach, the ugly sensation churned and growled deeply as he fought to suppress it. 

With a nod, he stepped toward the massive wooden structure. Cool felt the brass knob under his skin, the raised embossments pressed into his palm. With a gnarly squeak, the door gave away, easily following his hand as he pulled the door open. 

A small gust of dust followed. This time however Steve was clever enough to avert his face and spare himself a sneezing fit. When he peered into the belly of the furniture a smile raised on his lips.

“You seem to be very good at finding things.” He stepped to the side, making space for her to peer into the closet beside him. Inside was a multitude of different clothing items both hung and folded. 

“I was already afraid of having to try to squeeze into some of your childhood clothes,” she mumbled with a triumphant smile. Steve snorted, he glanced toward the floor to conceal how big of a smile she brought to his face.

“You surely would have looked fabulous in dinosaur print.”

“Dinosaur print?” She curiously raised an eyebrow. Steve in return blushed and smiled bashfully at her.

“I was obsessed with Dinosaurs, the stars, and the ocean.”

“I’d love to see the ocean at some point,” she mumbled, “Your capital lies on the coast, right?” With a hum Steve nodded. “How is it? Growing up so close to the sea I mean?”

“The view is beautiful, something entirely different to the mountains. 

In the summer the salty breeze travels into the city, and the winds help keep the city cool. There are rivers making their way through parts of the city and people have built small boats to ride through the canals. When the sun hits the waves the water glistens like gems. 

Oh, and the caves along the beaches. Bucky and I used to explore them as children. We imagined them to house all kinds of magic: a sleeping dragon, the buried treasure of a pirate crew, all such things. 

Buck also taught me to sail a boat. We’d sneak out of our beds after bedtime and climb out of our windows, down to the marina where we’d hijack his father’s boat.”

Her breath hitched as she watched him talk about his home. There was a tranquil look on Steve’s face, one of content and fond memories.

“Did you ever get caught?” She whispered. It was almost pitiful to disturb this peaceful look on Steve’s face. Almost, weren’t it for the happy glint in his eyes and smile at her indulgence. 

“Many times. We got into so much trouble but we didn’t care about it. We would do it again after every scolding.” It sounded like he had had a fun childhood. 

For a moment it made her sad, thinking how it would have been had her parents been around longer. Would her sisters and her have had a childhood like that? Would they have been able to be innocent children?

She didn’t want to focus on these thoughts and Steve turned out to be a great help in preventing her from thinking more such depressing things. He continued to tell her about the shenanigans he and Bucky had been up to in their childhood as they gradually shifted their focus on pulling out some of the clothes. 

Happily Steve told her everything that came to his mind, at least until she interrupted his babbling with a deep frown on her face, “I’m not a puppet.”

“Yes,” he answered her, confidently and nearly automatically. Steve was ready to continue his story, the delayed meaning of her words setting in stopped him abruptly. Confusion transformed his features as he stopped his motions and turned to her,

“No…

What?”

“Why would you call me a puppet?” She frowned up at him, her feathers clearly ruffled as she huffed, although he couldn’t understand how that had happened.

“I…didn’t.”

“You called me ‘Doll’,” she stated and it clicked. Warmth flooded Steve and his cheeks began to burn.

“That’s not the same,” he mumbled, yet it was clear this did not explain the situation to her. Instead, Steve found himself opposite of her accusingly raised eyebrow. The same unamused look he had witnessed her giving her younger sister. Steve gulped, not enjoying being on the receiving end of that look one bit. 

“That’s, um…” With a sigh, he bashfully glanced to the floor and rubbed at his neck. He was in trouble. 

Huge Trouble. How could he explain it to her without revealing he had just called her a pet name by accident? A term usually reserved for lovers? Yet it had just slipped out as he had addressed her. 

“Doll is a term of endearment that men call their female friends. It’s a non-specific name.” 

She looked at him doubtfully, a wary glint in her eyes as she looked at him with pursed lips. It didn’t sound quite right to her, he could see it in her expression and it terrified Steve. Desperately and frantically he wracked his brain to find another explanation. One with which he wouldn’t dig himself an even deeper hole. Perhaps a straight-up apology would be best suited. He had to be honest with her and hope she wouldn’t find any insult from it. But before Steve could open his mouth again, she shook her head and mumbled,

“Some of your traditions are weird. Why would it be endearing to call someone a puppet? That's not nice.” There was a remaining hint of disgruntlement in her voice, one that brought out the natural drawl of her widovian. It was a mighty wrong moment to feel like that but the sound of her accent made Steve’s heart flutter.

He couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. He adored her view, and couldn't help but find her reaction to it anything but cute.

Their hunt for clothing in the end turned out to be successful, albeit long. It had taken them the better part of a couple of hours to locate enough items that would be suitable both indoors and outdoors in the freezing, wintery cold.

Sam, Bucky, Yelena, and Natasha had tackled the chests on one side of the room while Steve and she had been isolated on the opposite side of the room. Only when both parties had met at the door to the hallway had her sisters and Steve’s friends even noticed their absence.

Now the girls were on their way out of the room, trailed by the men. Sam and Steve carried the piles of musty and dusty clothing – they’d unanimously decided to chuck all of it into the washer first.

Bucky eyed the clothes in Steve’s arms suspiciously, stopping in the doorframe, he blocked both Steve and Sam from leaving the room. 

“What?” Steve asked, noticing Bucky’s eyes on the clothes in his hands.

“Those are some of your mother’s clothes,” Buck noted and Steve fell silent.

There was a pause before he answered slowly, “Yes.” 

The statement didn’t seem enough for Bucky, however, who raised an eyebrow once more. “They’ll fit and suit her well.”

Sam and Bucky didn’t need to ask who ‘her’ was in this case.

Without saying anything else Steve pushed past Bucky and left the room. It was now Sam’s turn to glance at Bucky, alternating between looking at him and toward where Steve had just stood. 

“You wanna tell me what that was?”

“Steve hasn’t touched any of his mother’s things since she passed away.” 

Sam shrugged his shoulders, so he had gotten over it. What was there to it that Bucky made a big deal out of it? 

“He didn’t allow anyone to touch them. All of Sarah’s belongings were stashed away. He couldn’t bear looking at them and being painfully reminded of his mother not even a week ago.”