#king!steve x heir apparent!reader

[justalonelyslytherin]

My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | One

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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.”

[serenity-lattes]

A = angst

F = fluff

M = mature themes, 14+, not smut

E = explicit content and will be posted on my NSFW blog @tittie-lattes​

Reader is non-descriptive unless stated otherwise.

If it doesn’t have a link, it isn’t posted yet.

Robin Buckley

Nothing yet...

Billy Hargrove

Nothing yet...

Steve Harrington

Nothing yet...

Eddie Munson

Nothing yet...

Harringrove

• It’s All Coming Back to Me

One Shot: Steve Harrington x Billy Hargrove (A with happy ending) Established Relationship. The sauna scene from 3x04 and the moment with El 3x08 got mixed together with a little spice. Billy is flayed and Steve’s on a mission with Robin, Dustin, and Erica to bring him back. And maybe this time it isn’t as difficult as they thought it would be. Angst with a happy ending.  Part of Harringroveson Bingo

• My Dearly Departed

Mini-Series: Steve x Billy (A) Established Relationship. Billy dies after the battle of Starcourt Mall and Steve refuses to leave him alone. While he’s helping prepare Billy for his final resting place, he reminisces and mourns what could never be.  Part of Billy Hargrove Bingo

Harringroveson/Steddilly

• The Prince’s Diaries

Mini Series: Eddie x Steve x Billy (FA) Steve, a reserved high school senior, is visited by his mysterious aunt and is given the most shocking news imaginable. He’s a prince and with his cousins refusing the throne, he’s also the heir apparent. He’s got his boyfriend Eddie and best friend Robin to help him along the way, but now there’s more trouble than just “prince lessons.” Billy Hargrove is another eligible heir to the throne and oh, is he a piece of work. Who will be the next king? Part of Harringroveson Bingo

• How to Save a Life

Series: Eddie x Steve x Billy (AFM)  Grey’s Anatomy AU, focusing on the lives of surgical interns, residents, and attendings as they grow into seasoned doctors while balancing personal and professional relationships. Steve and Eddie run around like headless chickens their first year, and when things finally seem like they’ll settle for the second year residents, Billy comes into their life, shaking everything up again. Part of Harringroveson Bingo

Jargyle

Nothing yet...

Mungrove

• Hit the Lights

One Shot: Billy Hargrove x Eddie Munson (AF) Pre-Established relationship. Billy lived after the s3 finale and became part of the party, and Eddie lived after the s4 finale. The party all gathers at Steve’s to rest and well… there may only be one bed left for the two of them. Part of Harringroveson Bingo

Ronance

Nothing yet...

Steddie

• The Recluse & The Ghost

Two Part Series: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson (A) Six months post S4. Steve has missed Eddie terribly and after getting some signs from the Upside Down, he decides to go on a mission to bring Eddie home… but what if when he gets there, Eddie isn’t quite the Eddie he remembers? Angst with a happy ending. Part of Harringroveson Bingo

• Eddie in the Bathroom

One Shot: Past Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson. (A) Eddie and Steve used to date, they were in love, or so Eddie thought. Then Steve dumped him right before Tina’s annual Halloween party. And now Nancy Wheeler is tucked under Steve’s arm and Eddie can’t stand to look. He’s now hiding out in the bathroom, drowning in his thoughts and memories. Angst without a happy ending. Part of Harringroveson Bingo

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[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

The Second Choice

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x mermaid!Reader (A Spin on The Little Mermaid #3)

Summary: As the rebellious Princess of the Mers, you wanted the best of both worlds. You chose to live your life with endless adventures on land while still being able to fulfill your duties to the crown. Ransom just happens to feature in many of your adventures.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY SMUT CONTENT. so much adult language, cocky Ransom, unprotected semi-public fucking in human form, anal, degradation, praise, squirting, overstimulation, spanking, choking, ANGST, dubcon breeding, unprotected monster fucking, FLUFF, soft boy Ransom

Word Count: 8.1k (One Shot)

A/N: I did not expect this to turn out this way. I set out to write something completely different for Ransom but here we are. Enjoy! You don't need to read the first two, but it is recommended so that you can have a more wholistic experience with the lore and how they all connect together.

Full Masterlist | Story Book Collection Masterlist

Autumn has to be your favorite season and you prefer to spend it on land. There was nothing like laying down on a beach lounger with the cool salty ocean breeze blowing wrapped in a knitted sweater and sipping on a hot drink. You sighed happily as you sank down further on your lounger, stretching your legs out and wiggling your toes. Your short skirt blew with the wind and tickled your thighs as you stared fondly at the crashing waves of your private beach property in Malibu. You mulled over your life and your Kingdom underwater as you often did on quiet nights like this.

The second choice.

Being the second child of the Queen of the Seas earned you a certain level of privilege. It came with the title of royalty, a precious princess to the kingdom. It came with the respect of your species and the protection of the warriors, but you were always the second choice. Thank the gods for that. You were more than happy to revert all of that responsibility over to your older half brother Steve.

An heir and a spare.

Crown Prince Steven was by all means the epitome of a future King, exemplary in combat and sharp in wit with a natural inclination for leadership. You were the spare. Just like your mother was for your Uncle Andy. Unlike your family, you disagreed with many Merfolk traditions and you were considered as different.

A wild card.

A brat.

Rebellious.

Difficult.

One important thing you disagreed with was the treatment of humans. You knew the significance and you understood that it was essential for survival, but you were always conflicted and you refused to directly participate. Still your love and loyalty for your kind was strong and you were still duty bound. So you delegated yourself to a task not many wanted but one where you found purpose in.

Gatekeeper.

That was what they called this role, held by only a few since it was established. Since the Merfolk population was limited, everyone had a part to play. Yours was to be the link between land and sea. Early on your ancestors realized that your people needed a way to navigate the human world, a way to ensure safety when on land and resources to use. You held your hand out in front of you, the precious stones and luxurious metals glittering with the soft light of your backyard.

Jewelry.

There was no shortage of riches from the sea, riches apparently that humans were willing to pay hefty amounts for. Your ancestors partnered with a poor fishing couple who were good of heart, but desperately struggling to feed their children. The agreement was that this family help the Merfolk on land and to keep their existence a secret in exchange for unlimited riches for generations to come and the protection of the Merfolk. From this partnership grew a global conglomerate that was now a household name for high end jewelry and ocean conservation.

The profit and influence from this company enabled your people to live and move comfortably on land. Your job was to maintain the relationship with your human partners and to ensure all Merfolk that came on land were well equipped and safe. They went to you first and you ensured safe passage for them.

You took a long sip from your drink, letting the warmth spread through your body with a satisfied hum. It has been a busy week for you with the launch of a new line of designs and a slew of promotional parties. There was still more work to be done so it was nice to have time to relax.

So deep in thought were you and in a comfortable cocoon that you didn’t realize a large shadow slowly drawing nearer behind you. If you were paying more attention, you would have heard the soft click as your back door opened. You would have heard the light padding of expensive loafers. You would have caught the scent of designer cologne.

It wasn’t until a hand clamped over your mouth that your body went on high alert. Your cup flew out of your hand and smashed against the wood of the deck, your screaming muffled by the hand. Your heart pounded frantically as you thrashed in an effort to be released. An amused chuckle halted your struggle and the smirking face that lowered to your view turned the fear to exasperated annoyance.

“Ransom, you fucking asshole!” you shrieked as you smacked his arm repeatedly. “You scared me!”

“You should have seen your face,” he laughed as he sat down beside you, pulling you onto his lap to kiss you breathless. “Your housekeeper let me in before she left.”

One hand was on the back of your head, keeping you in place as he continued to kiss you. You moaned as his tongue battled with yours, his forcefulness sending heat to your core immediately. His other hand was gripping your hip, moving you to press closer to his growing erection.

“You’re such a dick,” you mumbled, as he moved his mouth to your neck.

“You like this dick,” he chuckled, lifting you to properly straddle him and angling his hips to grind against you. “You miss this dick.”

He wasn’t wrong. He was a cocky dick but he gave good dick. Ever since you met him a couple of years ago at a party in Massachusetts, you couldn’t help but find his arrogant snarky personality entertaining. He was so brashly honest and uncaring of what other people thought of him that you found it oddly appealing as you traded witty comebacks back and forth. It helped that he also looked delicious and you just happened to need someone to warm your bed that night.

What was meant to be just a one night stand turned into a habitual no strings attached arrangement when three months later you saw each other again by chance at another party. You only got as far as the ballroom’s ornate bathroom that time and it took a while for your legs to be able to support you much to his smug satisfaction. From then on whenever you were in the same city, you sought each other out.

“You’re wet already, aren’t you?” he said as his hand slipped beneath your skirt, his thumb sneaking under your panties and swiping against your folds. “Dripping. I could probably just shove my cock in this pussy with no fight.”

“Ransom,” you whined, your hips moving in search of more friction.

“Impatient little brat. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so desperate for my cock.”

“Fuck me or get the fuck out of my house, Ransom.”

He chuckled when your threats melted into sighs as he pushed his thumb inside you, shallowly fucking you in a way that was no where near enough. He loved to tease you. A big part of what turns him on about you is how you fight back, meeting his own demanding nature with your own stubborn one. Getting a win over each other was sometimes better than the orgasm that follows, but nothing compared to the image of having you an angry whimpering mess beneath him.

He pulled his thumb out and popped it in his mouth, making a show of twirling his tongue around your arousal that was coating his finger. He kept your gazes locked the whole time, noting how your breath hitched and your eyes darkened.

“Still the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” he hummed. “Quiet now, aren’t you?”

The small growl you let out amused him to no end and he wanted to keep riling you up, but the tightening in his pants was becoming urgent. He smacked your ass and dumped you back on the lounger before he stood.

“Hands and knees.”

You wanted to let out a sharp remark or roll your eyes at his commanding tone, anything to antagonize him but the sight of his big beautiful cock out made your mouth water. You maneuvered yourself around just as he asked, opening your mouth for him in anticipation.

“Good girl,” he said, running the tip of his cock lightly along your lips. “Show me how much of a whore you are for this cock.”

He slipped his cock into your mouth, easing in until his full length was hitting the back of your throat. He let out a long low groan, one hand firmly on the back of your head to keep you in place. His pace started slow until he was thrusting into your mouth with the sole purpose of using you for his pleasure.

“Fuck. That's right. Take that cock just how I taught you.”

You relaxed your throat and flattened your tongue, staring up at him to encourage him to be rougher with you. You can take it. You could always take him. Watching him lose himself in your mouth made your pussy clench, his eyes burning with lust and his jaw ticking. You rubbed your thighs together to ease the ache between your legs. You couldn’t help it. He just looked so good with that feral look in his blue eyes. Blue eyes that now flashed in anger down at you.

You felt his fingers dig into the back of your head as a resounding crack shocked you forward making you choke on his cock, your bottom stinging from two more quick slaps that followed. You yelped, the sound garbled and muffled as you were pressed close to his pelvis. His fingers forcing their way inside you with no warning.

“Greedy. Little. Brat.”

Each word was punctuated with a sharp jerk of his hips and a twist of his fingers inside you. Your slick was dripping down your thighs and soaking his hand, your pussy was pulsing and clenching. More. You needed more. Your hips began to wind and push against his hand earning you a dark chuckle from above you.

“You’re just such a desperate slut, aren’t you?” he said, his tone mocking you.

He groaned as you swallowed around him, your eyes meeting his and glinting with mischief. You knew how to press his buttons too. He pulled himself out of you suddenly and grabbed you by the neck to raise your face to his, spit shining around your mouth and chin.

“That how you wanna play today, princess?”

You smirked, the nickname carrying a certain irony given how Ransom didn’t know how accurate it actually was. You leaned your face closer and ran your hands up the soft texture of his sweater, fearlessly meeting his fury to nip on his plump bottom lip before slowly pulling back and winking devilishly at him.

The growl he let out sent a new wave of arousal through you, the electricity buzzing down your spine as he crashed his lips to yours in a messy kiss. You moaned against his mouth, gasping as he pushed you off him. He manhandled you until you were on all fours again with your ass up for him, ripping your skirt and panties off in one go. He kept your loose cable knit sweater on though, loving how soft you felt all over.

You jolted forward as you felt him spit on your cunt, spreading it around with your slick up to your puckered hole. His thumb slipped in with little resistance and your body sagged as you welcomed it.

“Ransom,” you whined.

He hummed. Toying with your back entrance as he rubbed the head of his cock against your soaking core. Your pussy wept and clenched, your whole body screaming to be stuffed. The moment the head of his cock breached you, all thoughts flew out of your mind except for the feel of his girth stretching your walls in a way no other man or merman has ever done for you.

“God, you’re tight,” he grunted as he bottomed out. “But you’re taking me so well, princess. Like you’re made to take this cock.”

“More. Harder, Ransom,” you moaned.

He tutted at you as he continued with his infuriatingly languid pace, one hand gripping your hip to keep you locked in place. The bruises will be a nice thing to wake up to tomorrow. His thumb in your ass kept pressing in, contributing to your pleasure but it still wasn’t enough.

“Come on, princess. You know what to say.”

“Fuck!” you screamed as he rolled his hips, reaching deeper inside you and building up that fire inside you just a bit more. “Just fuck me harder, you goddamn prick.”

“You know what I wanna hear,” he chuckled. Another roll of his hips and your legs were starting to quiver with the tension. “Say it.”

“Please,” you muttered under your breath.

The hand on your hip gripped tighter and his hips snapped sharply, the sound of your skin meeting drowned by your yelp. “Say it louder.”

You gritted your teeth, your stubborn head telling you to disobey. Your body was shaking now, teetering over the edge of an almost orgasm. Another sharp thrust, pushing hard into both your holes, had your resolve crumbling.

“Please, Ransom. Take me harder, please.”

You turned your head and caught the slow smirk curve on his face and the excitement of knowing rippled through you. All at once his pace changed drastically, pounding into you until you were practically falling through the lounger. You screamed your pleasure into the night, falling instantly into your first orgasm.

“Good girl,” he panted from behind you, his thrusts not slowing even as you continued convulsing beneath him. “Keep going.”

The smug bastard kept fucking you through to another rippling orgasm, his thumb joined now by another finger to prep you for what he wanted next. He bit down on his lip to stave off his own release, but your walls pulsing around him and your mewling was making it difficult. He grabbed you by the neck and pulled you up flush against him as he pulled out of you, your weakened body grateful for the support.

His cock was glistening with your cum, aiding in his entrance through your puckered hole. His hand around your throat tightened, just as tight as your walls around his cock. You felt his hot breath around your ear as he groaned in satisfaction. His other hand trailed down your overheated body to spear his fingers through your weeping core. The curses and pleading just kept spilling from your lips.

“This is how you like it. Right, princess?” he said as his fingers pushed and tapped relentlessly inside you, hitting that spongy spot that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “You like me stuffing both your holes where the neighbors could just look out their windows and see how much of a slut you are for me? Come on then, princess.”

His hands and cock worked in complete synchrony to deliver you to your ruin; digging, prodding, scissoring, pushing, pounding, and choking you just right. Your sweater drooped down your shoulder and his mouth took it as an invitation to latch on, biting and sucking his stamp of ownership over you. You could feel the coil impossibly tighten, already on the brink of snapping completely.

“Make a mess for me.”

You keened sharply as ecstasy consumed you, your vision exploding with fireworks and tears. Your whole body shook violently with pleasure as your release continuously drenched the once pristine white cushion beneath you, his hand rubbing and slapping now at your throbbing clit.

"Fuck. That's it," he groaned. "Goddamn, you feel good."

You could vaguely hear the string of profanities and praise he let out as he railed into your ass in time with the thundering in your ears. He pulled you back with a hard bite down on your shoulder as he emptied himself inside you with a feral roar.

For a while, no words were exchanged between you. There was only heavy panting, heartbeats that struggled to slow, and hands that roamed lazily. He turned your head to catch your lips in a slow kiss that made you shiver. It was the complete opposite of the manner he just took you, but was always welcome. He pulled out of you and drew you back to sit between his legs, his hands slipping beneath your sweater to palm at your breasts with interest.

“I didn’t know you were in town,” you said as you leaned further back against him.

“Charles Blackwood was having a birthday party in LA. Got bored.” He tweaked your nipple and your back arched. “Knew I’d have more fun here.”

“Not enough strippers for your taste?” you teased. “How long are you here for?”

“About a week,” he whispered against your ear, nibbling on your lobe and sneaking his tongue in. “Glad I caught you before your annual trip with your family. Can’t have you craving my cock for too long.”

“Just in time then. I leave in two weeks.” Your hand reached behind to card through his hair, pulling and scratching lightly at his scalp. He groaned and grinded his hips forward, his manhood starting to grow again. “Plenty of time for you to put your smart mouth to better use. I have some business meetings but I’m mostly free.”

“Oh, princess. Don’t make plans just yet.” He pulled your sweater over your head and tossed it aside, before he lifted you up into his arms and into your house. You laughed against his neck, your arms clinging to him. “I’m not even halfway done with you tonight.”

He caught sight of a few loose pearls on the lounger that he just assumed must have gotten knocked off from one of the pieces you were wearing. They hardly registered when he had your willing body pressed against his.

-------------------------

He didn’t leave until noon the next day, leaving you thoroughly sated and sore, but it would be a couple of days later when he came back. You were busy arranging your things for the meeting you needed to get to, checking the essentia paperwork to bring and shoving your belongings into your purse.

Ransom walked in like he owned the place and grinned at the business attire you were wearing that highlighted your body perfectly. You were beautiful in anything you wore, there was a fiery radiance to you and a presence that was captivating, but seeing you dressed like this made you look powerful and in charge. His cock was already hardening and he hasn’t even touched you yet. He couldn’t wait to rip it off you.

“Hey, princess. Busy today?” he smirked as he sauntered over to you.

He abruptly halted before he could reach you when another man came into the room, dressed similarly to you and frowning at the tie he was struggling with in his gloved hands. He was tall and wide, built like a brick wall with icy blue eyes and sharp bone structure. Ransom noted that his hair was still damp, an obvious sign that he got ready here.

He scowled when their eyes met, a sudden wave of possessiveness taking him by surprise when the other man stood far too closely to you for his liking. You were oblivious to the death stare match they were having, too busy thinking of the tasks needed to be accomplished today.

“Ransom this is Bucky. Bucky this is Ransom,” you casually introduced them, taking the tie from Bucky and fixing it for him hurriedly. The intimate yet familiar gesture made Ransom’s jaw clench. “Wait for me in the car, Buck. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Are you sure, princess?”

Ransom growled at the use of the term. That was his pet name for you. It infuriated him how you didn’t even react to another man calling you that. You were by no means exclusive with each other. You weren’t dating. You also made no promises that this arrangement would lead to anything else. It suited you both since you weren’t ones to be tied down, but neither of you had seen the other with someone else.

It was hypocritical of Ransom particularly since he was still upholding his reputation as a playboy and you weren’t exactly waiting around for the next time your paths crossed. That was the deal, but Ransom never did do well with sharing. You weren’t his, but for the first time since he met you he thought that maybe he wanted you to be.

As soon as Bucky was out the door, Ransom’s furious expression was on you and his low snarl froze you on the spot. “Who the fuck was that?”

“What the hell is your problem? I told you that was Bucky.”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” he growled in your face. “Who is he to you, princess?”

You were surprised by this unexpected outburst and the venom in his use of the pet name made you flinch, but you weren’t one to back down. This princess bows to no one. You lifted your chin and met his gaze unflinchingly as the realization began to dawn on you.

Ransom was jealous.

Bucky was a Queen's Guard who regularly would check up on you and the other Merfolk onshore. This time around he also escorted a few of your people to you and helped send them on their way. This afternoon he was accompanying you to meet with the human family you were bonded with. He was also your older brother’s closest friend, a mainstay in your life since childhood. Ransom had no reason to be jealous of him, but you were in no mood to pander to his childish behaviour.

“He’s a family friend.”

“I can see just how friendly you two are,” he scoffed.

“What if we are?” you challenged him. “That’s none of your business.”

“Like hell it isn’t! Are you really that much of a cock hungry whore that you can’t even go two days without looking for something to fill your cunt?”

The crack of your hand as it met his cheek threw the room into a tense silence. Your chest rose and fell heavily as you struggled to control your indignation, hot tears stinging your eyes. Never had anyone spoken to you this way. Never had Ransom used those words on you with malice and you hated to admit to yourself that it hurt you more than you expected.

“You don’t get to talk to me like that. You don’t get to make me feel bad when you’re not exactly discreet about your conquests,” you shot back, mirroring the rage that was evident on his face. “You don’t get to judge me when your bullshit is splashed across gossip blogs on a regular basis. You even went viral for your dick pic on Instagram. Good for you.”

“You. Vicious. Little. Bitch.”

You sneered at how the veins on his neck were popping with each punctuated word. He was shaking with barely restrained fury, his fists clenched at his sides and a small bleeding cut on his cheek from the ring you wore on your hand that struck him. Good. If you weren’t so furious, you would have thought that anger just made him more attractive.

“You do not own me,” you spat, taking a confident step toward him. “Now if you’re quite done with your temper tantrum, I have a meeting to get to. You can wait here for me to come back in a few hours and we can talk when you’ve calmed down. ”

“You must be insane to think I’d wait here for you like some puppy.”

“Fine. Then don’t.” You threw your hands in the air in dismissal. “Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.”

You grabbed your things and marched toward the door. You looked at him one last time, your face turning oddly sad before you fixed it to one of icy indifference.

“Goodbye, Ransom.”

The door slammed behind you with a finality that echoed in the now empty room where he still stood. He wasn’t sure which was more bruised, his cheek or his pride.

-------------------------

You expected Ransom to not be there when you got back, but it still stung when you came home to an empty house. Out of all the many properties your kind owned on land this mansion was your favorite which was why you chose this as your permanent residence. Built and decorated with the thought that it was an extension of the sea, with its open spacious interiors in a coastal design and a backyard with a large pool that led to the private beach. It always felt comfortable and welcoming to you. It felt like home.

Now as your heels clicked on the wood floors, you feel for the first time how empty it was. Even as you opened more lights and drew back curtains, the large house still felt cold and you felt it seep into your chest. Your free spirited lifestyle ensured endless parties, countless interactions with humans, a freedom to travel as you wished, work that was a passion for you, and a string of lovers. You had the best of both worlds and the privilege to enjoy it to the fullest. You could hardly say that you were alone, but now somehow you felt lonely. Your chosen independence, just earlier filled with gratification, now left you feeling unfulfilled.

Was it really all because of Ransom?

The answer came almost two weeks later. Two weeks of constantly checking your phone for any calls or messages only to be disappointed because both of you were too prideful to reach out first. You suspected that he would have already gone home when a week went by and there was still no sign of him. The internet gossip blog you stumbled on confirmed it. You would deny to anyone who asked that you were looking for news about him. He was back in Massachusetts with a new girl on his arm at another party. It hurt. That you couldn't deny.

Yes. It was all because of Ransom.

A life of fun and endless possibilities, but with no one to share it with. It never bothered you before, but Ransom's absence from your life had more of an impact than you anticipated. He made you laugh with his ranting about his insufferable family. He complimented you on your new designs, always sending a quick congratulatory message on each new launch. He even challenged your decisions in business matters you had shared. He wasn't romantic but he had a habit of bringing you his favorite biscuits when he came to visit. He would say it was because you had subpar taste in after sex snacks, but he always ended up feeding you most of it and licking the crumbs from your lips. The sex itself was not just mind blowing, but he had opened you up to more exploration.

Despite how little time you actually spent together, you realize now how comfortable you were with him. You realize just how much you enjoyed his company, that you actually looked forward to it. You realize now that you surprisingly trusted that spoiled overgrown child of a man.

And you realize now that you were in love with him.

You groaned and cussed at yourself. It was absurd. You knew how stupid it was. It was also equally idiotic to have postponed your trip back to your kingdom in the disillusioned hope that he might still call you. Your spirit was waning and your body was terribly weakened, your magic struggling to maintain your human form.

You stripped off your clothes and elegantly dove into the pool, reaching deep before you twirled and a soft glow enveloped you. You sighed in relief as your legs morphed into your tail, the pain you had been feeling the last few days lifting temporarily and yet your chest still felt heavy with the last conversation you had with Ransom. You took your time circling the depths of your expansive swimming pool, allowing yourself to recover as much as it could but at this point you had no choice now but to leave tonight.

Merfolk power came from the sea and prolonged separation weakened you. Your annual trips back to your kingdom were born out of necessity, a way to recharge your magic and strength where Mer magic was the strongest for you to be able to return to shore again. If you don’t go tonight, your magic will dissolve and your body will waste away.

You will die.

However, this time you were as reluctant to leave as you were to come back. What would be the point of coming back? There was suddenly no more joy in your life here and truthfully you don’t think you can take seeing more news of Ransom or risk running into him. Perhaps it was time to talk to your mother. Perhaps it was time to find a different purpose for you.

Your head popped up out of the surface, sighing heavily and staring forlornly at the night sky. You would miss the sky. It was one of your favorite things about the shore. You could spend hours just watching the colors change from the dusky sunrise to the clear blue to the stormy grays to the fiery sunsets. Your favorite was the bright blue of morning, filled with the choice of a day of adventures ahead or lazy musings. The possibilities were endless with the morning sky. It would now remind you painfully of Ransom, but you were decided. You’ve had a good run on shore. You’ve lived your life as you pleased without the burden of your title holding you back.

It was time to be a proper princess for your kingdom.

“So this is your secret.”

Your eyes widened as you turned toward the voice, your tail automatically carrying you to the edge to hide yourself. It was no use though. He had already seen everything and as you stared up at him, you couldn’t help the thrill of seeing him again or the wistful smile that curved your lips that you were quick to tamp down.

“Ransom.”

“You’re a mermaid.”

Your face dropped and your eyes turned downcast, trying hard to avoid his gaze as if it could hide your secret from him. As if it were shameful. When Ransom stepped out onto your backyard, he could hardly make sense of what he was seeing. He must be high, but as he watched you swim so gracefully beneath the surface he became more and more mesmerized by your movements. He was hypnotized by how the color of your tail shone with the subtle lights of your home and the gentle silver of the moon. It made the flaming hues of your lower half stand out more, like a bursting sunset of red and gold. He was caught by your beauty the moment he first saw you, but this was different.

You were enchanting.

You had enchanted him from the start and he now knew why. It explained how he was so magnetically drawn to you. How you had kept his attention where all else had failed. How you kept creeping into his mind when you were apart. How he craved you. It told him that it was never a choice, he would never have been able to resist you even if he wanted to.

He really never wanted to.

He almost thought it unfair. You were magical and he was human. He was a lost cause from the start, but while it explained much it didn’t cover everything. It didn’t explain why he relished your laughter or admired your work ethic. It didn’t explain why he genuinely liked to hear your stories. It didn’t explain how he could be comfortable enough to be honest with you. It didn’t explain the possessive surge he felt that day you fought or what made him say those words that were meant to hurt you.

In a move that was wholly out of character for him, he bent down to capture your chin in his hand and turn your gaze back to him. His other hand traced the elaborate gold band that circled your head with countless rare pearls and precious gems that dripped down to your hair.

A princess.

“You’re an actual princess too, aren’t you? That’s why that brooding asshole called you that last time,” he chuckled, the sound fraying your nerves. You weren’t sure whether he was mocking you or he was genuinely amused, but you couldn’t seem to look away. Not when for two weeks you wanted nothing more than to see him.

“You know there are rumors that the secret silent partner in your company is actually a Mafia clan,” he laughed loudly this time. “I guess swimming with the fishes has a different meaning to you.”

Your lips twitched in a barely contained smile before your head tilted to the side in confusion. “You don’t seem too surprised.”

“It makes sense,” he shrugged dismissively.

You barked your laughter, the nerves you were feeling earlier suddenly expelled with each breath and the lingering anger from your last interaction pushed aside for the time being. You shook your head, but leaned over the edge and craned your neck upwards to keep his eyes. His gorgeous aqua eyes that you now realized didn’t hold what you normally would expect from someone faced with what was known only as myth. There was no ill intent, fear, or disgust. They were cocky and playful just like Ransom always was with you. What was new was what was unexpectedly lining it.

Affection.

“I fail to see what part of this makes any type of fucking sense, Ransom,” you smiled as you flicked your fins up to the surface to emphasize your point.

For a moment he was transfixed with how your tail was lazily swishing before he looked back at you and there was that affection again that was making your face heat up. “The secrecy. How you don’t keep a public profile despite making the big decisions in the company. You actually own the damn company, don’t you?”

You nodded sheepishly and he chuckled again. His fingers travelled lightly along one string of pearls that decorated your head. “That also explains why you happen to be the only ones able to sell these kinds of pearls. They’re so rare. You can’t tell me how they’re made right?”

“Maybe. Someday. It’s a secret of the Mers,” you grinned cheekily. His smile grew at the thought that there was a someday, that he hadn’t already completely ruined things with you. “Still doesn’t explain how easily you’re accepting all of this though.”

“You forget that Harlan is a novelist and I grew up around his incessant rambling about literature,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes at the thought of his family. “Every design you put out has a little story about Merfolk. I thought it was a cool gimmick at first, but something about it always struck me as intimate. Like it was personal. You wrote them yourself, didn’t you?”

“I did,” you admitted quietly. You bit your lip nervously as you braced yourself to ask a more difficult question. “You honestly don’t find all this too strange?”

“Are you kidding me?” he laughed loudly. “My girlfriend’s a fucking mermaid!”

You felt your face heat up again at the sudden declaration. He’s called you many things, but he’s never called you that. Neither of you have ever acknowledged whatever you had as anything more than convenient fucking.

Still, why did it make your heart flutter?

“Wow. Got you speechless for once and I didn’t even need to choke you with my cock this time,” he snickered, enjoying the flustered look on your face and bringing his face closer to yours. So close that your noses were brushing and you could feel his long lashes on your wet cheeks.

“What? You don’t like being called my girlfriend, princess?”

“Ransom, I -”

“Marry me.”

You were stunned speechless and your instinct told you to recoil. It told you to run, but Ransom caught your wrist before you could retreat from him.

“You can’t be serious, Ransom,” you shook your head.

“Oh I’m completely serious, princess.”

“You’re fucking insane! You can’t possibly think that’s a good idea.”

He leaned away from you, dropping your hand as he stood to his full height. Your eyes widened when you saw him slowly strip his clothes. He threw them unceremoniously on the day beds, keeping eye contact with you and smirking at how your expression was somewhere between confused and aroused at the sight of him completely naked.

“Let me show you how good of an idea it is.”

It must be the fatigue of your power fading that you didn’t react fast enough when he dove into the water and dragged you under. The next thing you know, Ransom had you caged in his arms and his lips were on yours. You yelped against his mouth when you felt him pull at one nipple until it went hard beneath his touch. He flashed you another smug look before he stole another kiss and propelled you both up to the surface.

“Marry me,” he said the moment you broke air, crowding you against the edge of the pool. His hands roaming all across your body, exploring the new texture of your skin. “God, you’re so hot like this.”

“Ransom,” you gasped as his mouth moved to suck and nip along your throat, your neck instinctively dropping back to give him more access. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

He groaned as he felt your hands card through his hair and pull at the strands, unable to resist the attraction that was always so strong between you. He held you in place by your ass and pressed his throbbing erection against you. He bit hard into the sensitive juncture at the base of your neck and smiled against the newly forming bruise when he felt your fins curl around his leg to bring him closer. You could take any form and he would still know how to make your body sing for him.

“I don’t know about that. I think I like the idea of being a prince,” he laughed, his breath tickling your ear and sending shivers across your skin. “Marry me.”

His hands travelled lower, trailing fire all over your body as he groped at your breasts and gripped at your curves. His fingers soon reached below your pelvis and you would think that he had experience with mermaid anatomy by how fast he found your veiled entrance. It was your sharp inhale though and the way your fingers dug into his back that gave you away when he brushed against your core. He slipped his fingers past the pliant part of your tail and straight into your pulsating core.

“Fuck,” he growled. It was so different, somehow even more wet and tighter than you usually were. “I can’t wait to stick my cock in there, princess. Marry me.”

You moaned his name and shook your head even as his fingers were making your hips move in search of more. “We can’t.”

You keened when he found that spot inside you that had your resolve hanging by a thread. You tried to hang on to your reasoning. You tried to remind yourself that neither of you were the marrying type. Neither of you were the commitment type. You were both selfish and self-indulgent.

His free hand came around your throat, forcing you to look at him as he unraveled you with his fingers. You saw the determined set of his jaw and the burning desire in his eyes. He wanted you.

Every version of you.

“That’s it. Don’t you want me as your prince?” he teased as his pace quickened until he felt you were on the brink of climax. “Marry me, princess. Let go for me now.”

You came hard, your voice carrying like a melody through your freefall. Ransom was dead set on your ruin and convincing you to be with him. He needed to show you how good you were together. His painfully hard cock swiftly replaced his fingers and he felt like he was going to cum on the spot by just how you felt. It was out of this world. You were still mid orgasm and it was driving him into a frenzy how your walls were pulsing around him.

“I didn’t think your cunt could get any better. Goddamn.”

“Ransom,” you panted, nearing delirium now from pleasure. “Fuck me please. I need it. Please, I need it.”

The growl he let out was animalistic as he hammered into you, your mouths fusing and your tongues battled in between incoherent chanting of each other’s names. You were absolutely lost in each other, the water violently splashing from your crude movements. It wasn’t long before you were teetering over the edge again, one sharp snap of his hips sending you spiralling into bliss.

“You feel fucking amazing,” he grunted, his pace starting to falter as he neared his own end. “I’m gonna fill you up, princess. If you don’t wanna be my wife right now then you can be the mother of my brats first.”

You clenched around him at the thought and his hips stuttered. A small voice in the back of your mind warned you. If he came inside you right now in this form and in your vulnerable state, he would surely succeed in his task.

“Ransom, you can’t,” you protested weakly, still reeling from your climax and already building toward another.

“I can, princess,” he chuckled darkly as he continued to rail hard into you. “And I will. You want this too. I’m making you mine.”

The authority in his voice threw you into your next release, your walls milking him for all he would offer and pulling him into his own finish. He kissed you hard as he continued to pump his seed inside you, making sure every drop was pushed deep.

His lips slowly parted from yours, but he didn’t go far. He rested his forehead against yours, his twitching cock still nestled inside you, and his hands cupping your face with an unexpected tenderness that was mirrored in his eyes.

“Marry me.”

Through the jumbled mess of your thoughts, you scrambled again for your reasoning. You both were spoiled and wanted it all. You both valued your independence and freedom to have fun as you wished. You both walked away from each other during that fight. You both hurt each other. As if reading your mind, he rubbed his thumbs over your cheeks to calm your protests before he spoke.

“After the fight, I spent a lot of time thinking. I was ready to just bury myself in the next pussy I see and forget all about you,” he started gently. “Then I found out we were all getting cut off from my grandfather’s will. All I am is my money and without that who am I? I went into a dark place, princess.”

You saw him struggle with his words and your heart softened at this rare show of vulnerability. He’s never shown this side of him to you. Whatever he shared with you was always with his brand of humor and sarcasm. You suspected that he never showed it to anyone. You appreciated how difficult this was for him to open up to you. Your hands ran soothingly along his arms, a silent encouragement for him to continue.

“I was going to do something that I would have regretted. I was going to do something that would have destroyed me completely. All for money. All for the pride of a Thrombey,” he swallowed, pausing for a moment to steady himself. He would never be able to fully put into words what you pulled him back from doing. What you stopped him from becoming. “But one thing kept holding me back from going through with it.”

“Me?” you asked quietly.

“Yes, princess,” he gave you a small smile and kissed the tip of your nose. “I’m sorry I said those things to you. I regret them. I didn’t mean a single word. You were the first person I wanted to talk to after I found out about the will. You were the only person I wanted to see. You still are. That’s when I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That I love you, you fucking idiot,” he chuckled. “I was fully willing to say to hell with my family and the money. None of what I thought was important before is anymore. Not after you.”

Your hands slid to loop around his neck and tangle themselves in his wet hair, smiling at the thought that just before he came you had the exact same epiphany that he had. What mattered then didn’t matter anymore. Not if you weren’t together. You had changed each other and neither of you even knew it was happening.

“So, Ransom Drysdale, the trust fund playboy.” You laughed as he rolled his eyes at your teasing. “You love me?”

“I just said that!”

“Well I wanna hear it again!”

“God, you’re so high maintenance,” he groaned in mock exhaustion though there was no venom in his tone, only an indulgent smirk on his lips.

“That’s rich coming from you,” you snorted.

“We’re not even married yet and you’re already nagging at me.”

“Excuse me?!”

He crashed his lips to yours, laughing as he kissed you breathless and his stomach fluttering in amusement at how you were smacking his chest in annoyance. Exactly this. He wanted exactly this for the rest of his life.

With you.

“We’re getting married next week. I don’t want any of my family to come. They can all eat shit. We’re eloping.”

“I didn’t say yes, you asshole.”

He scoffed and pinned you with a raised eyebrow. “You’re really an idiot if you think it was ever a choice.”

The laugh faded from your lips as you remembered the journey you needed to make and by the look on his face, he seemed to realize the same thing. He also realized now that the truth of your nature was revealed that it must mean more than just a yearly family trip.

“You have to leave,” he said sadly, suddenly deflated. “When?”

“Tonight. I’m too weak to stay on land for much longer. I need to go back.”

“Then marry me right fucking now. I want to know you’re going to come back,” he swallowed, vulnerability again flashing in his eyes but now coupled with his stubborn firmness. “I need to know you’re coming back to me.”

“How?”

“I don’t give a shit how,” he smirked as he fiddled with his hand, slipping off the signet ring that he always wore on his pinky.

You couldn’t help giggling as he struggled to somehow fasten it on your crown, carefully making sure that his ring was secure and prominent among the many adornments. It was just so ridiculous and yet it made your heart swell with joy and your eyes fill with tears.

“There. We’re married now.”

You beamed at him and from the opposite side of his ring, you broke off a winding piece of gold and fastened it around his pinky. You lifted his hand up to your face, closing your eyes as tears streaked down your cheek to land on the makeshift ring. You closed your hands over it for a moment and when again revealed, Ransom was shocked to see a pearl now attached to it.

“We’re married now. I love you too.”

He crashed his lips to yours, overwhelmed by the love and awe that he was feeling for you. You were his now. It didn’t matter to him if it was real or made up. It just mattered that you were his and he was yours. You would return and when you did, he was going to marry you in every conceivable ceremony there was in this world and yours.

Bless, Bless

This unity once wished

A joining of land and sea

Finally achieved

Not a choice of one or the other

But of both to prosper

You both smiled as you parted, the blessing of the ancients anchoring you in permanence with each other. You knew for sure now that you would return and his parting words made you all the more eager to do so.

“I’ll be here waiting.”

---------------------------------

[giorno-plays-piano]

Rotten

Pairing: Steve Rogers x princess!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, captivity, forced marriage, brief mention of child abuse, allusion to death of minor characters.

Words: 3950.

Summary: "The princess will marry the very first beggar who comes to the castle gates," the King said.

P.S. This was inspired by König Drosselbart fairytale.

_______________

Staring at the enormously huge black gates separating the castle from the outer world, you pulled the grey cloth over your head, covering your beautiful shiny hair. Before this morning you wore a tiara of your mother, and your dresses were made from brocade, silk and cashmere, not this rough wool that itched so badly and irritated your gentle skin. But now the only posession you were allowed to keep was that little cameo of your mother laying in the pocket of your simple grey dress.

The princess is obstinate, capricious, the King said. She thinks too high of herself. She rejects and ridicules all honourable men coming to ask for her hand in marriage. She is rotten to the core. She doesn't deserve to be the crown princess of the kingdom.

Locked away, abandoned by your teachers, refused to be engaged to any decent prince or lord, you were kept confined to your chamber for several years. Occasionally, you were allowed to visit the celebrations and balls held in the castle only to be laughed at your lack of manners and education by the children of the King and their entourage. You considered them your friends once, but those times had long passed.

You were the only child of the Queen, the true ruler of these lands, who got married the second time after an unfortunate death of her first husband, your father. She didn't give the new King an heir, but he had a handful of his own children from his past marriages. All of them, except his oldest one who stayed to rule the country of his father under the watchful eye of royal advisors, were brought to your kingdom. They are your sisters and brothers, the King said.

They were the ones who would take your place once the King found an opportunity to get rid of you, the true successor to the Queen.

All the men who came to ask for your hand were told you had no desire to meet them, and then, after the brief encounter with the King, they were sent away. You watched them, enraged by this unfair treatment, and their corteges to leave in haste, disappearing behind the black gates. You were never allowed to leave your chamber at these times, forced to look out the window at those princes and lords. If only they knew.

"Bow your head in front of your lawfully wedded husband." One of the guards demanded harshly, and you snapped out of your thoughts, looking at the huge man with wide shoulders, dressed in rags, his face hidden by the hood he wore.

The stranger was twice bigger than the guards surrounding you, and you felt rather intimidated in his presence. Despite his dirty clothes and wooden shoes, he didn't look like a beggar to you. If he was truly so poor, how come his body was so big and strong? No, the man wasn't a beggar. He was a bandit.

It would only make sense for the King to get rid of you, but you hoped he would keep his word as he promised to give you to the very first beggar who came to the castle gates. Apparently, he decided against it. The bandit who stood in front of you would either kill you or sell you to a brothel. If he was paid to end you, you hoped he would at least do it fast.

You bowed your head in front of the stranger who was now your husband and moved forward when the guards pushed you to him. The man said nothing, heading to the gates as if he didn't even care whether you followed him or not. Biting your lip, you came after him, watching your ugly wooden shoes.

However, once you stepped behind the gates, you saw there were dozens of people, their clothes dirty, tattered, and heavily patched, their faces grim - many lacked teeth and some even an eye - their expression turning wicked when they saw you coming after the stranger. Who were they? Beggars? Bandits? Villagers? You didn't know, but feared for your life as they started shouting loudly upon seeing you, and then you saw them throwing something rotten and smelling badly at you.

Why were they doing it? What have you done to them?

"WHORE!" The crowd yelled. "ARROGANT BITCH!"

A boy no older than ten threw a piece of rock at you, and it struck your arm painfully, making you yelp. He was encouraged loudly by the others, and you realized they would beat you to death. Why? What have you done to be so hated? You were a prisoner in your family castle. No one loved you. No one cared for you. No one came to console you even in the darkest of days. Why did you deserve to be punished for something you had never done? Why were you the rotten one when the sons and daughters of the King were spoiled beyond imagination?

Before the next rock hit your head, you saw the stranger shielding you with a big piece of wood he had taken from some man. Holding it like a shield, your husband grasped your shoulders with the other hand and started fighting his way through the crowd as you clinged to him, afraid to raise your head. All you heard were angry shouts and screams of pain as the man crashed their bones with the shield in his hand, the sound of cracking disgusting and frightening. People tried to clench your dress, beat you, snatch away the cloth covering your head, but the stranger was quick to push people away, and soon you two were running somewhere, your vision clouded with tears.

He held your hand in his until you reached the forest behind the meadow, far away from the castle and all those scary people who dirtied your simple woolen clothes and coloured your arms black and blue. Luckily, you were mostly unharmed just like your saviour, the man who hadn't uttered a single word still. At this point you guessed he might be deaf or lacking his tongue - you heard maids talking about the soldiers of the King cutting tongues of the ones who talked against him. But maybe the stranger just didn't want to speak to you. He probably thought you were an arrogant princess, humbled by your pride and haughtiness.

"Thank you." You whispered to him, and the man turned face to you, his beautiful blue eyes watching you intently. "Thank you for saving me."

The tears had long dried out on your face, but your eyes were still a bit red, your voice raspy. Running in the wooden shoes made your feet hurt so bad as if you were running barefoot at all.

When your newly wed husband came closer to you, you flinched involuntary and made a step back, staring at his strangely attractive dirty face, his dark blonde disheveled hair and beard.

"You're safe with me."

You blinked, unsure what to say to him in return. His low husky voice made you tremble a little, but if he told you the truth, he was going to take care of you. You hurriedly averged your eyes and bowed your head again, waiting for him to continue walking. You didn't dare to talk to him once more.

Your had been travelling by foot for what felt like hours, and you felt grateful for the dress you were given as it was lighter with just a few layers of fabric. Your wooden shoes, however, bruised your skin so much that they were slowly filling with blood. Nonetheless, you kept walking even with blisters covering your feet as your husband moved forward without a stop through the forest. Was he living here? Otherwise you didn't know how he navigated through the woods.

"You're slowing us down." You winced when you raised your head and saw him furrowing at you, standing a few feet away.

"I am sorry." You muttered, knowing you could hardly speed up with your legs hurting so much as if you walked into the fire.

The stranger squinted, coming closer, "Take off your shoes."

You complied without saying a word, showing him your bruised feet. Was he going to complain you were a shirker, unable to even walk? Maybe he had it on his mind, but he stayed silent, ripping the hem of your dress when you gasped and wiped the blood away. Then he had you seated on a falling tree and bandaged your feet so gently you gawked at him openly. You felt tears shimmering in your eyes at his kindness. He cared.

"I will carry you from here." Your husband said, wiping away the sweat from his dirty forehead. "We'll make a halt soon."

"I can walk myself." You said when he loomed over you, his strong hands gripping your under your lower back. "Please!"

"No, you can't." He grumbled, shooting you a look that forced you to keep your mouth shut. "You are my wife now, and you are going to listen to what I say."

You squeezed your eyes shut when the man lifted you in the air and hurried forward, moving carefully so you wouldn't get struck by the branches. Your body ached, your legs hurt so hard you were ready to cry, your eyelids growing heavy. Oddly, the man's presence wasn't as intimidating as before, his body heat slowly warming you and lulling you to sleep since he slowed down a bit and kept going forward cautiously. You decided to close your eyes just a little bit...

__________________

When you opened your eyes next time, you were tucked in a bed that smelled like old sheep wool - your maid, a girl from the village, had the same scent when she returned after visiting her parents. Even though this bed was three times smaller and tougher then yours, you enjoyed laying there under the dark warm blanket - or whatever it was - and listening to the cracking fire inside the stone oven. Your poor feet were terribly sore, and laying on bed brought you so much comfort.

However, when you were fully awoke, you shifted on the bed nervously and glanced over the house, finding the stranger sitting near the crudely made wooden table, a clay pot in his hands. He lifted his hood, and now you could see his matted blonde hair and dirty face covered in mud and what looked like ashes. Was it his house he brought you to? It was very small and looked like it was abandoned some time ago, but you couldn't be sure. He had no servants to take care of his house, so maybe it always looked like that.

"You're awake." He said, turning his face to you. "Don't stand up. Your legs are no good."

"I'm sorry." You mumbled, knowing he was perfectly right since it still hurt you to move.

"Next time you need to tell me when you're in pain."

"Why?" Curling your lips in a grim smile, you got under blanket again, covering yourself up to your chin. "Why does my pain bother you?"

The man narrowed his eyes down at you and set the pot aside, putting his elbows on the table tiredly.

"You are my wife. Your pain bothers me, and my pain should bother you."

"I see." You averted your eyes from his face lit up by the light coming from the oven. You didn't know much about marriage since no one considered you to be ever wed. It was like this, then? Or was it because your husband was a peasant and not an honourable man? There certainly was differences, but you had never expected a beggar to be so kind.

He wasn't a beggar, though, of that you were sure.

"What name do I bear now?" You asked him, watching his face growing confused. "Do you... do you have a name, sir?"

"You bear the name of Rogers." He sounded oddly proud, but you only sighed - now you lost even the name your father gave you.

You were the beggar's wife, not the princess living in high castle - you would work hard till your hands bled; give birth to unfortunate children forced to live in poverty, who wouldn't know how to read or write; you'd starve and beg, and then die young. This is what your maid told you how the people of her village lived - despite being farmers, the lands they worked on were poor, and most of the harvest was taken away to feed the ones living in a castle.

You didn't even have the land to work on as you saw the forest through the crack in the door. This hut was in the middle of the woods, probably.

"I made a salve for your legs. Let me put it on."

When he stood up from the bench, you shivered and took your eyes elsewhere, moving higher on what you supposed was an improvised pillow. The stranger sat on the other side of the bed and moved your blanket, showing your dirty feet with dry blood covering them. Then, as if he remembered something, he went somewhere behind the oven and pulled a jug with a slightly cracked neck, soaking a rag in it. Once he squeezed it and brought it to your legs, you winced in pain, but stayed silent.

The stanger had been kind to you beyound your understanding.

"So, were the rumors true?" He asked once he wiped your feet cleen and took a little jar with what you assumed was the salve.

"Forgive me, but there are too many rumors for me to remember."

"The one that says you are so arrogant you don't want to meet any of the men who come to ask for your hand in marriage. Watching them being sent away, you sit in your room in the high tower and ridicule them all."

You wanted to laugh bitterly at his words, but the knot in your throat didn't let you utter a sound. Was this what the King and his children had been telling to your people, feeding them lies for years? The princess whose spirit was too high to look at those she deemed lower than her. The one born with a silver spoon in her mouth who didn't care whether her people starved and died from diseases. What a perfect little picture the King had constructed in the minds of others.

"If you believe it, did you take me as your wife to teach me a leason, then? To punish me?" You whispered and clenched your teeth - every touch to your legs made them burn as if the man's fingers were covered with flames.

"No."

His ridiculously beautiful blue eyes bore into you with such intensity it made you want to grab the blanket and pull it over your head to hide from him. Oddly, you thought his face looked noble behind that layer of dirt on his skin. He didn't look like any of those who you met behind the castle gates.

"In truth, I've seen you up there in the tower once, looking out the window. But you didn't laugh at us. You cried."

You raised your head and stilled, watching the man anxiously. No, he wasn't a beggar. They had never been admitted to the castle.

"How could you see me up there? My room is too high." Your hands trembled a little, and then you let out a hiss of pain when the man rubbed some salve onto your skin.

"I have a good eyesight."

"How did you know it was me, then?"

"Because I've seen you before."

Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest at his words. Who was he? Who was the man sitting on your bed?

"Were you a part of a cortege of a man who came to ask for my hand?" You asked nervously, glancing at him rubbing more of that medicine that smelled like herbs into your feet.

The stranger nodded. "Then... where have you seen me? Was it before I was locked in the castle by the King?"

"Yes. I saw you when the old King, rest his soul, had been alive."

"I see. I must have been a child, then." You gave him a weak smile, remembering those times when you were still the lovely little girl, your mother always keeping you close to her despite the royal etiquette. It was the time when you still travelled, sometimes even outside of your own country. He probably saw you during one of your trips with your parents. "Have you been a part of the court? Maybe the one who served it?"

"Yes." His answer was noncommittal, and it only steered your interest. Did he lost everything just like you? Was he stripped of his titles? It must had happened quite some time ago since his big hands were rough, work-weary. Maybe he was the knight or someone who belonged to the army.

Knowing he was becoming agitated, you decided to stop there. You had no desire to test patience of the one who had only ever been kind to you.

"I only have one question left, sir. How should I call you?"

He smirked, tilting his head to the side.

"Steve. My name is Steve Rogers."

Steve Rogers. This name rang a bell. He could see you growing confused, wracking your brains, desperately searching for any memory that could give you the answer. Steve Rogers. Steve...

Stevie. Prince Steven Grant Rogers. The little boy who was so unhealthy pale he looked like a ghost. He was skinny and small despite being older than you. You knew his mother had been sick for many years, confined to her chambers, and, sadly, her boy took after her. You remember the whispers behind your back when you visited him for the first time as he laid in bed, watching you with his enormously big blue eyes.

"It can't be." You gawked at the man who was bigger than anyone you had ever seen, his arms musculed, his shoulders wider than the ones of the King's executioner. Little Stevie could never grow so big - you remembered his thin, strange body well. "You can't be prince Steve."

"I'm not. I am King Steven now, little girl."

Oh, you remembered you called him a little boy that made him pout at you. There was no one standing close to you at the moment when you bended over to him and talked quietly not to tire the prince. But how could he become so strong? Even his father wasn't as big as him now. Why was King Steven dressed like a beggar? Why did he take you in the middle of the woods, pretending it was his house?

"When I reached the age of 18, I've met a wandering mage who cured my illness. His charms changed my body, made me what I had to become if my mother didn't fell sick before giving birth to me. Do you like what you see?"

You felt your cheeks burning when you realized you were staring at him shamelessly and averted your eyes.

"You look stronger than any man I've seen, Your Highness."

"I know, little bird." Smirking, he finally finished rubbing the salve into your skin and set the jar aside, caressing your feet. "As I fulfilled my promise to you, I came to claim what's rightfully mine."

"What promis- AH!

His gaze grew dark as you stared at him wide-eyed, and his hand gripped one of your feet painfully, making you yelp as he pressed his finger to the blister. He didn't like you forgetting about something important, but you could swear you remembered nothing of a promise.

"I gave you my word one day I'd become better and then come to ask for your hand, my dearest. You said if it were to happen, you would choose me among the other suitors. Do you remember now?" There was something dark in his voice as he spoke, and you nodded immediately to make him ease his grip on your leg. Steve sent you a satisfied smile, caressing your foot gently with his calloused fingers. "I've came to you several years ago, but you refused to see me and sent me away. I caught a glimpse of you in the window, and then I realized something wasn't right. I've sent a few of my people to become the servants in the castle to learn the truth."

Strangely, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted. King Steven knew you weren't rotten to the core. He knew you weren't a spoiled princess who refused to leave the castle to see her miserable people, suffering under the heavy taxation laws imposed by the new King. Steve took you here not to make you learn a lesson how to be behave, but to hide you from prying eyes.

As he wiped the tears streaming down your face, you realized he sat much closer to you now - King Steven smelled like sweat and pine trees.

"When the King ordered to give you to the first beggar who would come to the castle gates, I had already sneaked into your lands, my beloved. If not his order, my people would take you away soon." He dropped a kiss to your forehead, touching the locks of your hair with his fingers.

"But the King would find out who stole me." You whispered. "He'd demand you to bring me back."

"Five thousand soldiers are waiting for my command to march to the King's castle. Why would I leave him the kingdom that belongs to you, sweetheart?" Steve smiled, and you saw something dangerous lingering behind his eyes, something that made you shiver and draw a shaky breath from you. "If I gave you such an army, what would you do with it?"

For a second you felt like your body was thrown right into the fire, burning your flesh to the bones. The tears stopped as you clenched your teeth.

"Burn the castle to ashes. Kill the King. Kill his children. Kill their entourage. Kill all of them who had abandoned and humiliated me."

You didn't know when the anger rose in your chest and took a hold of your tongue, make you spit venom and imagine your brothers and sisters scream and plead for their lives, but you enjoyed it. You enjoyed every second of it when you thought of their heads on spikes for the crows to peck and the entire kingdom to see.

No one had come to your rescue for years when you prayed to be saved, taken away from a place that became your prison. No matter how much you asked God to answer you, he had been silent, and your learnt you were left alone in the world where no one wanted you to be treated fair. Then so be it. If no one took pity on a little miserable child pleading for help, you wouldn't show mercy to the ones who had been torturing you for years.

You hadn't seen how King Steven face changed as he watched you, his expression growing more sinister and poisonous, but you felt his lips on yours when he claimed your mouth possessively and his fingers clawed at your shoulders.

"I will cut the King's head off and tie it to the mane of your horse, my beloved. Would you like it to be your wedding gift?"

"Yes. Yes!" You cried as he shushed you, pressing your head to his chest and caressing your hair like a lover would.

"Then it's as good as done."

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Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @navegandoaciegas @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @heeeyitskay @lovelydarkdaydream

[lazyangeltreemoney]

Never Doubt I Love

One Shot, Royal AU

Description : Prince James is to wed Princess Y/N of the neighbouring country after the war to try and strengthen their countries. Bucky is less than happy about it and is shamelessly rude to Y/N, one day she has enough.

Pairings: Prince!Bucky x Princess!Reader (platonic), Prince!Bucky x Natasha, Loki x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 4987

Warnings: mentions of war, arranged marriage, death, insults, swearings.

A/N: just had this idea in my head all day and I’m a sucker for AU’s. Hope y'all enjoy

Bucky hated her from the second he saw her. When she stepped out of the limo in front of the palace an instant disdain burned in him. He would say it was from how she dressed being so dull, or her hair and makeup seemingly so perfect to the point of she looked like a doll, not a real human being. Natalia looks real. She was by no means the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Natalia is beautiful. This, this was who his parents expected him to marry?

When they finally got to talking it only cemented his hate. He hated how proper and ladylike she was, a proper princess who knew all the curtseys and proper rituals, it was almost robotic. Natalia at least would talk like a real human being. She talked to his parents and said everything she was trained to say, nothing seemed real about her. Natalia has a personality.

As time went on and she would try talking to Bucky she would be able to talk circles around him, any insult he gave she was able to bat back in a moment. Natalia knew when he did and didn’t like being pushed. He didn’t like being outwitted, especially on his own turf. 

“You just hate her because you can’t marry Nat without giving your mother a heart attack.” Steve stated as he took a swing of his water. 

“No, I hate her because she’s the most boring and insufferable woman I’ve ever met, I would say human but I’ve met Sam.” Bucky commented back. 

The pair had been sparring and training. Steve was Bucky’s cousin and Head of the Royal Guard. The pair had been friends since they could talk, thick as thieves. They had gone to war together and by some miracle survived and came out stronger than ever. Bucky was the soon to be King, he had no reason to be training but some of the old army habits he was never able to kick. 

“She’s in a new country, a country she will soon have to rule, it’s a lot to take on.” Steve tried to get his friend to sympathise with Y/N. 

“Not my problem, now if we’re done here I’m going to see Nat.” Bucky retorted and walked away. 

“I’ll see you at the ball tonight!” Steve called down the hall. 

Bucky simply ignored him and kept walking on shaking his head. Of course Steve would have to remind him of that stupid ball, the one to announce Y/N’s and his engagment. Y/N had been staying in the palace for nearly over a month now, to try and not raise suspicion of an ‘arranged marriage’. Bucky had gone over his proposal speech about a thousand times to try and give it something to make it believable. Nothing worked, it all sounded robotic and cheesy to the point where the press would see right through him. 

This led to him sitting with Natalia in his bedroom trying to think of what on earth he was going to say tonight. The pair were both naked with only a sheet covering them, Bucky was sat by the window smoking a cigarette to try and clear his head. Natalia was going over what he had already written down so far. 

“-I love you to the moon and back’ oof.” Natalia laughed. 

“I know, I know, it’s awful and I’m about to make a fool out of myself in front of the whole kingdom.” Bucky huffed, stubbing out his cigarette. 

Natalia leaned forward and began to card her hands through his hair to try and comfort him. Telling him how some of it was sweet or how he could close his eyes and try to pretend it was her, he was proposing to. 

“Urgh, it doesn’t matter what I write how I can be any form of genuine when I’m proposing to an iceberg.” Bucky groaned holding his head. 

“Come on, she’s not that bad, Wanda speaks pretty highly of her.” Natalia offered. 

Bucky was so sick of everyone trying to convince him Y/N ‘wasn’t that bad’. Even Nat, apparently her and Y/N would often go into the gardens with Wanda for some form of a book club. Y/N knew full well what was going on between Nat and Bucky, she had told her in person and she gave Nat her blessing. Told her that she was simply doing right by her country and had no claim over Bucky’s heart. 

Bucky didn’t buy it, he was convinced Y/N was trying to play some bigger game. He was the only one in his conspiracy theory. 

“Nat I’m having to ask that bitch to be my wife, to stand by me, raise my heirs, how can I?” Bucky let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Because you’re a King and like it or not she is your Queen.” Nat tried to calm him. 

“Well right now I want to pretend that you are my one and only queen.” Bucky smirked and grabbed Natalia ready to ravish her again. 

So lost in the moment he had no idea Y/N was just right outside of the room, hearing their whole conversation. She had gone to talk to Bucky about tonight, about how to play in front of the press watching and just them in general. Y/N only closed her eyes and let out a small frustrated sigh as she marched back to her room. By the time she was just outside her room she didn’t know how or why but she was crying. Endless streams of tears seemed to be flooding and nothing she did could stop it, but why? Did she love Bucky? No, but at the very least she wanted him to respect her. Not call her a bitch or human iceberg. 

Rushing into her room she slammed the doors behind her. In her room were her clothes for this evening, a gorgeous gown with silver trimmings and heels to match. However the very sight of the dress made her feel sick. It was less of a gorgeous gown and more like shackles. As if she was submitting to a life of ridicule and hate from her husband. 

Falling to her knees she held herself for a second. It was never meant to be like this. It was meant to be so much kinder and happier, the life a princess was supposed to have. This however was the reality, cruel and ironic at every chance it had. 

Y/N wasn’t sure how long she had laid on the floor but she knew it had been a while and she would have to start getting ready. As she had been trained since birth, she wiped her eyes and gracefully rose from the floor, back straight and head high, thinking of all she would sacrifice for her kingdom. 

It was now only a few hours til the ball and Bucky still didn’t know what to say during his proposal. Anything he had down was tibits he had gotten from people Y/N actually talked to, like Steve or Wanda. However none of it sounded like him, he had always been vocal in the press, they knew how he talked. Defeatedly, he walked towards Y/N’s room knowing she was the only one who could fix this. 

Y/N had a way with the people, even Bucky couldn’t deny that. When the war was at its worst, it was Y/N’s speeches or public acts that seemed to give most of the soldiers and citizens hope. If anyone knew what the public wanted to hear it was Y/N. So Bucky now stood in front of her ornate door hanging his head. Letting out a frustrated sigh he knocked on the door. There was a short pause before a voice called him in. 

“Enter.” 

When he walked in he saw Y/N in her dress. It was a dark blue silk that was sleeveless, that seemed to hug her figure just right. She wore white silk gloves that had the most delicate lace and pearls wrapped around her neck. Bucky hated to admit it but he was speechless at the sight of her. Her hair was in a bun but a few loose hairs cascaded down her face shaping it perfectly. Her makeup was a lot more natural and her lips seemed to be the perfect shade. The more he looked at her the less and less she looked like the girl who first appeared in the palace. 

“Was there something you wanted to say James or are you just going to stare?” Y/N asked bringing him back to reality. 

Bucky coughed slightly and stood up a little straighter. 

“Ah yes, I came to talk to you about tonight,” Bucky began before Y/N let out a sarcastic laugh. “Something funny?” Bucky raised a brow to her. 

“Just surprised that you would want to hold an actual conversation with me is all.” Y/N spoke in that tone that made Bucky cringe. 

It was royal and regal, just the right amount of sweetness with the right amount of authority. No one had a voice like that unless they had been trained from day one. Bucky hated that even now she was playing mind games with him and talking so many circles around him his head could spin. But right now he had to let it slide because he really needed her help. 

“Look I need your help on conning an entire country that we’re in love.” Bucky tried to explain. 

“Love.” Y/N scoffed back. 

Bucky was now losing his patience. 

“Yes love.” Bucky’s tone was getting dangerously dark. 

Y/N however didn’t care, she had been pushed too far. She was too tired, tired of his arrogance, his childishness, his stubbornness and how he was convinced that Y/N wanted this. Especially when he didn’t know the first thing about her. 

“How can you when you hate me, god James I know you don’t love me and I don’t want you to but you could at least tolerate me.” Y/N exasperated, he was finally getting put in his place one way or another. 

Bucky went to argue back but Y/N was nowhere near done. 

“I tolerate you, I tolerate your lover, even befriended her but you can’t even look at me without insulting me, God, you think I want this? You think my heart doesn’t belong to someone else as well, at least you get to see your lover everyday.” Y/N ranted. 

So much information was coming at Bucky at once it was hard to process it all. His brain was almost on autopilot. 

“How does any of that help me write this?” Bucky asked. 

Of course, of fucking course, Y/N just poured her heart out to him and he still doesn’t care. Well now neither does she. 

“Say whatever the fuck you want.” Y/N yelled storming out of the room. 

Bucky was left alone in the room feeling uneasy. Y/N had never swore once in the whole time he had known her, not even with anyone. She had always tried to be the perfect lady but now that seemed to all go out of the window. Sighing, Bucky sat on Y/N’s bed and let his mind wander. The words Y/N spoke seemed to be playing on a loop until it finally hit him. 

 “You think my heart doesn’t belong to someone else as well”

It was about an hour before the ball was supposed to begin when Bucky finally found her. Y/N was on one of the balconies having a cigarette. He had no idea that she smoked, but she even made that look graceful. She seemed to be deep in thought, almost relaxed. However her little moment of peace seemed to be ruined when Bucky showed his face. She looked at him for a moment before turning away to look at the night sky. 

“So who is he?” Bucky asked, leaning on the railing. 

Y/N remained silent and took another puff of her cigarette. Her face was like a statue wanting to give nothing away. 

“Is he back in your country?” Bucky hummed. 

“He’s buried there.” Y/N finally spoke. 

Bucky looked at her in astonishment. Y/N had revealed one of her deepest secrets so casually he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating. He tried to study her more to see if she was lying but he honestly couldn’t tell, until she stubbed out her cigarette. 

“His name was Loki and he was beautiful.” Y/N spoke softly with a sad smile forming on her face as the memories came flooding back. 

Thor was her usual royal guardsmen. He was a bit of a goof with more brawn than brains but Y/N got along with him just fine. Just like all the guardsmen in her country Y/N trusted them with her life. However one morning Thor greeted her before she went riding accompanied by a dark haired man. He was a lot shorter than Thor and paler. His eyes were an emerald green that seemed to be locked on Y/N from the second he walked into the stable. 

“Ah Thor, ready for our ride?” Y/N spoke enthusiastically

“Actually your Majesty will have the joy of my brother with you today.” Thor explained, gesturing to the man next to him. 

“Brother?” Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Adopted.” Thor explained. 

“Call me Loki.” The dark haired man introduced himself. 

“Only if you call my Y/N.” She replied. 

Loki instantly smirked at her. Something about the tone of her voice told him this was going to be fun. The pair saddled up the horses and were off into the royal woods. Y/N led the way and Loki had to try his best to not lose her. After about half an hour of riding Y/N finally stopped by a lake. Loki was exhausted and more than happy to have his own two legs on the ground. He practically collapsed off his horse and gulped some water from his bottle. 

“Anyone would think you didn’t want my protection.” Loki said breathily. 

Y/N only giggled at him and began to set up her camp. Loki noticed she was building a small fire, she then took out a metal can and took some water from the lake. With that she took out a book and a tea bag she placed into the can of water. 

“Would you care for some tea?” Y/N asked. 

Loki merely nodded and sat down beside her. The lake was beautiful, the water was so clear and glimmering, it seemed to show his reflection perfectly. The woods circled around them, it almost felt like he was in the eye of a storm. He glanced over to Y/N who was pouring him a small cup of tea. She was so beautiful as the light shone on her, regal, elegant. 

“What are you reading?” Loki mused as he took the cup. 

“Shakespeare's sonnets.” Y/N showed him the cover as her eyes went back to the pages. 

“Would you mind if you read them to me, I’ve always had a soft spot for his works.” Loki admitted. 

He wasn’t sure why he was telling her this but he felt like he could, he felt like he could tell her anything within a few minutes of knowing her. She had the air of comfort around her. Y/N nodded and began to read out loud to him. Her voice seemed to give the words meaning, as if before now they were just words on a page. The pair sat together like that for hours, eventually Loki began to read to her instead. They discussed and argued about what he truly meant when Shakespeare wrote certain rhymes. They continued to jest and tease each other on the ride home. By the time they got to the stable it was nearly sunset. 

“Thankyou for this today, usually when I go with Thor he gets bored after an hour and I have to head home.” Y/N smiled at Loki as she tied up her horse.

“Anytime, Y/N.” Loki replied smiling at her. 

Y/N wanted to scold herself for how her heart fluttered when he said her name. The two bid each other goodnight but the lingering glances were clear neither of them wanted to part ways.

Them running away to the lake quickly became a little tradition between them. Even if they could only have an hour there they would wake up at the crack of dawn or dead of night to simply be in each others company. It was one of the times when they both had busy schedules the next day so they were in the dead of night Y/N’s head laid in Loki’s lap by the lake. The moonlight shining down on them. The soft neighs of horses and gentle lapping on the lake could be heard. It was the most peaceful thing Y/N had ever experienced. 

“Doubt thou the stars are fire;Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar;But never doubt I love.” Loki spoke softly

Y/N nestled into more as his words rang seemed to lull her to sleep.

“Love maybe we should head back, the sun will be coming up soon.” Loki reminded her. 

“Just a few more minutes.” Y/N sleepily mumbled back. 

Loki couldn’t help but chuckle at her sleepy stubbornness. To be completely honest, he didn’t want to leave either, this was their little sanctuary, away from their duties, the fear, the pressure. But they couldn’t hide away forever, Y/N especially would never abandon her people like that.

“Alright Love.” Loki spoke softly. 

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. By the time he finished reading the page Y/N was asleep. Her soft snores and gentle eyes closed. Loki wanted nothing more than to see that sight every night, to have her fall asleep in his arms every night. But she was a royal, the princess no less and he was not. It didn’t matter though, he had this and it was enough for now. 

“What happened?” Bucky asked. 

“The war happened.” Y/N replied. 

She had to hold back the tears as the memories played on in her mind. 

Loki had agreed to meet her at the lake early that morning. They both needed it, the war had just begun and they were both on edge. The war had barely begun and Y/N was trying to think of ways to end it. Meanwhile Loki was more scared for Y/N’s safety than ever, scared she would end up performing some act of Martyrdom just to end the war. 

Loki and Y/N had ridden in complete silence to the lake. It was weird, usually their ride together would be filled with teasing and discussing whatever book they were reading. This however was uneasy and uncomfortable. Too much was on each others mind for them to just be themselves. 

However once they reached the lake and Y/N had made the tea it was as if everything outside those woods no longer existed. Y/N laid her head on Loki’s shoulder and he began to read aloud to her, pausing occasionally to make a remark about it or flirt with Y/N. To which she would merely giggle and kiss his cheek to tell him to keep reading. 

It was one of those moments when Y/N went to kiss his cheek did he turned so to catch her lips with his. Loki dropped the book and wrapped his hands around her waist. Y/N had hers around his neck as she deepened the kiss. The two only broke apart for air, resting their foreheads against each other. 

“I’ve missed my Love.” Loki spoke breathlessly. 

“I’m sorry, I just want this war to end.” Y/N admitted guiltily. 

Y/N noticed how Loki’s face turned slightly when she mentioned the war, as if there was something he needed to tell her about it. No, surely not. 

“I got my draft letter yesterday, I ship out in a few days.” Loki almost hung his head in shame. 

Y/N broke apart from him. This couldn’t be happening, no she wouldn’t allow it. She had given almost all of herself to her people, to the crown but they couldn’t have Loki. 

“No, no, no.” She rambled pacing up and down but the lake. 

“Love.” Loki called trying to soothe her. 

“No, I won’t allow it, I decree it as the Princess of this land you will not set one foot out of the palace grounds.” Y/N tried to sound strong, use her authoritative tone so Loki wouldn't argue. 

But it was to no avail. 

“You think I want to leave you, but if I stay on your orders, what will people think?” Loki explained. 

“I don’t care what they think, I’ll marry you, you’ll be their king and adore you.” Y/N pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes. 

“We both know that’s not how this works.” Loki sighed, he hated to see her cry. 

He hated any form of sadness she had to endure. He hated how she would never be able to let it show, always internalising it and keeping it hidden. She only let her emotions go when she was with him, which made all of this hurt even more. 

Slowly he walked over to her and held her close. She sobbed into his shirt until no more tears could physically come out of her. Even after that Y/N still held him close, afraid that the second she let go he would be gone. 

“Promise me that you’ll come back to me, that no matter what happens you will come back here to this very spot.” Y/N’s voice was crackled and strained from the crying. 

Loki knew he couldn’t truly promise her that, but nonetheless he did. 

“I promise, Love.” 

Y/N watched him get shipped out. She went in disguise to kiss him goodbye on the dock. Tears were in both of their eyes. She used her spies to give him love letters and gifts of books with their favourite passages circled. Loki saw the work Y/N was doing and the speeches she made in the papers and on posters everywhere he went. He had never been so proud of her, she was truly going to make a wonderful Queen. 

It was the very last year of the war when Thor knocked on her door in full uniform with that damned letter and dog tags.No body could be recovered, there were too many hidden among them. She had locked herself into isolation after Thor had told her the knews; Simply wanting to be alone with her books and memories. Then her maid came and dropped breakfast by her door while slipping a letter under the door. 

Y/N walked towards the door and picked up the letter when she gasped at the handwriting, it was Loki’s. She felt almost feral as she tore it open, instantly checking the date, it was from three weeks ago, two weeks before…

To My Dear Y/N

I miss you my love, miss you more than you will ever know. I’ve seen your face all around the city, in the papers and although I am proud of you it does make my heart ache, a constant reminder of the distance between us. 

It is something I can bear no longer. Which is why when I keep my promise to you I will meet you at our spot and march into the palace demanding the King to make you my wife. I know I am no prince or lord but I am yours and I hope with everything in my being you are still mine. You are the only thing that makes this war worth fighting for and we both know it is drawing to a close. So please just hang on a little longer my Love. 

Soon we will have all we can desire; we will be wed; we’ll have children and take them to the lake. You will splash them in the water and then we’ll dry them while we read them stories with tea sat round the fire. Until then we will just have to read our stories apart, me around the fire here and you in front of the fire there. 

All my love, 

Loki. 

“I took his dog tags and the letters he wrote me,put them in a box and buried them by the lake, In the spot where I would always light the fire.” Y/N’s voice shook a little, she had never told anyone where she hid the letters before.

She couldn’t take them with her, if anyone ever found them there would be hell to pay. Burying them seemed like the only option and what better place than in their sanctuary. After she buried them she swore that she would never visit the lake again. About a week after she was told by her Father that she would be marrying Prince James within the next year. 

Bucky had listened to her story and his heart broke for her. He remembered all the times he thought he would never see Nat again while out in the trenches. All the time he was under heavy fire and prayed for some miracle to get him out of it. It made more and more sense now why she had such a hard time opening herself up to new people, especially him.

“I’m sorry, I get it now.” Bucky spoke softly. 

“Thankyou.” Y/N replied offering him a small smile. 

“Did you two have a favourite story in the end?” Bucky asked looking up at the stars. 

Y/N was honestly touched and surprised he had actually been listening to the story. 

“Hamlet I think, it was one we could talk about endlessly.” Y/N smiled at the memory of them. 

With that Bucky excused himself. Y/N simply thought he was allowing her sometime to herself before the big night. For the first time in a long time she let herself think of Loki and not feel too distraught about him.

The ball finally came around. All the Ladies and Lords, prime ministers and ambassadors seemed to be there. Y/N even got to finally see her Mother and Father, she knew she couldn’t but she wanted to so desperately run into her Mother's arms and stay there for the whole night. Instead she merely curtsied to them and shared a few dances with her Father. 

The party seemed to be in full swing, everyone took turns dancing with Y/N while they waited for Bucky to actually arrive. First Steve danced with her, always the gentleman, then Sam, then Pietro who kept remarking on how beautiful she looked tonight and if ‘Barnes screws up I’m more than happy to take his place.’ When Y/N was finally all danced out she sat down at one of the tables with Wanda and Natalia. 

“Do you think Bucky isn’t coming?” Wanda asked concerned. 

Nat and Y/N shared a look. Bucky had always been emotional and brash that after his and Y/N’s talk he could have decided to call off the whole engagement. As much as Y/N wished Nat and him could have a happy ending Y/N had to put her country first. Worry began to spread between the three when suddenly. 

“His Majesty Prince James.” The announcer beconned. 

Y/N looked up the the top of the room to see James and finally arrived. They made eye contact across the room and Bucky came practically bolting down the stairs towards her. Everyone watched the Prince cautiously, knowing what tonight was going to be. Bucky reached Y/N’s table and leaned down towards her. 

“Close your eyes and imagine his voice.” He whispered in her ear so only she would hear. 

Taking a fork and champagne glass he tapped the two together and the crowd instantly went silent. Bucky shot Y/N a look almost saying ‘Do you trust me?’. Y/N simply nodded and Bucky got down onto one knee as Y/N closed her eyes trying to remember Loki’s voice.

“I’ve never been good with words so I’ll leave summing up my love for Y/N to someone who is far better at it than me. Y/N, Doubt thou the stars are fire;Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar;But never doubt I love. I love you more with every book we read and every fire we light, will you do me the honor of becoming my Wife and my Queen?” 

“Yes.” Loki

Bucky got up from one knee and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek. 

“Thankyou.” Y/N whispered back at him. 

The whole crowd cheered as the sight of the newly engaged couple. It turned out all those hours Bucky had been gone he was reading Hamlet trying to find the quote Y/N had mentioned when she told him about Loki. It was the start of friendship between Bucky and Y/N and understanding. That no matter who they gave their hearts to, their country would come first. A fondness grew between them over the years, they paved the way for a long and peaceful reign. When Y/N reached the age of 86 she passed away, Bucky buried his Queen back in her homeland by the lake she had told him about, along with a marked grave stone for Loki. The gravestone read, ‘Never Doubt that I love’.

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.14

A Special Visitor

11/03/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 5,660

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, angst, a teensy bit of fluff

A/N: Okay! Here it is. The chapter that most of you have been expecting. There was supposed to be more in it but it was getting too long and I thought it would be better to divert the rest to the next chapter. I hope you like it! If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work!

TAGS ARE CLOSED FOR THIS STORY!

You’re eating when Peter thrusts your bedroom door open.

Mid-chew, toast with delicious raspberry jam freshly made sent up with a big pink bow tied around the rim of the small silver dish it was placed in—a gift from his Majesty apparently, the first of many Natasha assures you—you look up, your other hand still stroking the locket around our neck in contemplation.

The necklace is confusing, a weighty reminder of the painful first six months of your marriage and the promise that his Majesty made last night about giving you space.

His words of love. His declaration that he might not love you the way he loved Margaret, but that he loves you all the same.

You’re not sure what that means exactly. Is it not romantic? Does he not see you as a woman? Maybe you’re like a sister? Or some other kind of relation to him?

What if you are with child like you’ve been suspecting? Will he stop coming to your bed?

Not that you’d been enjoying yourself with him. His love making had been routine. Enough to get the job done. There’d been a few sweet caresses. A couple scandalous licks and suckles, but for the most part his Majesty had kept his head nestled in your neck.

He’d never once kissed you or looked you in the eyes the way Thor had.

Would a life without romantic love really be that bad? As long as you and his Majesty feel together, like a real family, does it matter that he won’t love you the way you’ve been loving him?

Your mind roams to Thor, his hands curled around your thighs as his head disappears between your legs.

The utter excitement of that moment, the wish that it was his Majesty’s head there making you feel the way Thor did makes you sigh.

You want his Majesty to want you. You want him to ravish you the way Thor did. To make you feel good. To stare into your eyes with that unbridled desire.

You want him to hold your hands, to caress them like he caressed it last night when he gave you your necklace back.

You want him.

But you’re angry.

And you hate him a little for all of the Margaret talk. He hadn’t realized he was doing it, but you don’t care.

You may be little, and unimportant, and poor in your own name, and as common as the dirt beneath your feet…but you’re woman enough that your pride is wounded when the man you love, your husband, compares you to the woman whose shoes you’ve been expected to fill.

Shoes you refuse to fill.

You aren’t Margaret. And you won’t try to be.

His Majesty seems to get that now, or so you hope.

“Peter?” Natasha asks, getting up from her seat by your freshly extinguished fire.

It’s hot in your room.

“They’re back.” He gasps, and Nat’s eyes widen.

“Where?” She demands.

“They’re coming up the Southern gate.” Peter swallows hard, catching his breath.

“Stay with her Majesty.” Nat orders, and sweeps from the room as she raises the yellow skirt of her dress to move with haste.

Slowly you rise, putting your bread down as you lick your lips.

“Who-?” You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you’d almost forgotten! “Bucky?”

Peter nods. “They’ll be here in minutes.”

“Does he have the old woman with him?” You wonder, your heart suddenly pounding.

“Yes.” Peter smiles then hurries to your side as your legs grow weak.

“Oh, my goodness!” He exclaims, catching your arm and wrapping his around your waist to help support you. “Are you okay?”

You nod, clinging to his offered arm as he helps you sit.

“Just a little dizzy.” And overwhelmed. You’ll know in minutes. Minutes. Whether you finally succeeded or not.

You’ve felt so terrible all these past few months, night after night of his Majesty coming to you and still you weren’t pregnant.

What if there’s something wrong with your body? What if you can’t give him an heir? He'll leave you for sure. Find a more fertile woman to bear his sons.

“Shall I get you some wine?” He asks, glancing at the decanter by your bread and jam.

“Water.” You sigh. “I’ll get it.”

You make to get up, to fetch your own water but Peter flicks his hand down towards your feet, forefinger and pinky extended, his thumb holding his two middle fingers down against his palm.

Whip! You hear, and stumble back into the chair but look down at your feet.

They’re wrapped up in sticky web, preventing you from moving them.

It had happened so quickly, between the moment you pulled your dress up to rise and falling back down, Peter had immobilized you.

“Peter!” You complain.

“I'll get your water." He moves to pour you a glass then hands it over, squatting down to cut your feet loose.

“How did you do that so quickly?” You ask him.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I just do. Things move a little slow…but fast at the same time for me. I’m not sure how to explain it, your Majesty.”

He smiles at you then gets up to peek out towards the second set of doors to your room into the hallway.

You’ve been in Peter’s company for half a year and he had yet to show you his capabilities. Despite knowing who he is, what he can do, you’re suddenly aware of how modest he’s been about said abilities.

In fact, he’s tries his best to be as normal as possible. Almost as if he’s trying not to draw attention to it.

Still reeling from Peter’s display, you’re caught off guard as Nat crosses in, smiling, gesturing towards you as the weathered and kind familiar face from the mud pit comes shuffling through.

She stops in your doorway, Nat moving aside, Bucky moving around to stand behind Nat, his hand finding its way into her own.

He looks tired—his hair hanging limply, unwashed for the two days that he’d been gone, probably, still wearing the same clothes—but happy to be with his redhead.

You stand slowly, setting your glass of water aside as the woman narrows her eyes at you.

It takes her a moment but just as a light of recognition shines in her eyes, you find your voice.

“Hello again, grandmother. I see you never bought yourself a new dress.” You sigh, smiling at her fondly.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” She moves towards you and with coarse wool gloves, the fingers cut off leasing frayed fabric, she caresses your cheeks. “I have been thinking on you since the day King Anthony abducted you.”

Nervously you look up at Nat as a small look of confusion overcomes Bucky’s face.

Nat’s pleased grin is replaced with understanding. She nods then turns to push Bucky towards the door.

“Okay, you’ve done your duty. Out.” She orders.

“Nat, what are you doing?” Bucky complains. “I wanna-”

“Her Majesty doesn’t care what you want. Give her some space. Why don’t you go bother Steve? He’s been pouting all day.” Nat turns as she gets him out of the room finally and shuts the doors with one final smile at you and a reassuring nod.

“Grandmother,” You sigh, reaching up to take her hands. “I-”

“I won’t tell anyone where you come from, don’t worry.” She pats your hand and you pull her towards the fireplace where you help her into one of your light blue seats and then take the other.

“Thank you. I don’t know what his Majesty would do if he found out that I’m not…”

The old woman leans away from you slowly, narrowing her eyes as she looks you up and down.

For a long moment, you hold your breath, waiting for her to say something. Anything.

This is why you had her brought here. This is why you wanted to see her and no one else.

He reaches up to press her right hand against your cheek then reaches down to place her left flat against the stomach of your dress.

She’s absolutely still, and with you she waits.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” She says, and you inhale, heart breaking because you’re wrong.

You must be wrong because there’s no way she would sound so sad if you had succeeded.

Your lip quivers, eyes burn.

“You’re going to make a wonderful mother.” She states, and you half laugh and half cry as you cover your face with both hands at the sheer burst of joy that flares through you. “But you are unhappy.”

That’s why she sounded sad?!

You get a hold of yourself a bit, push your tears back but you can feel them hovering on your lashes.

“Oh, grandmother, I’m so happy.” You sigh, losing all strength in your legs.

She helps you sit down again, then takes the simpler chair in front of you.

“You can’t fool me, girl.” She says sternly, disapproving but you aren’t lying!

Pregnant. Finally. You can fulfill the last duty that you had as Queen of Broklin. And maybe you might be a fool for thinking it in the moment, but you know that his Majesty will be happy when you tell him that you’re finally with child.

“But I am happy. I have been so worried that there might be something wrong with me. His Majesty was able to begin a family with his first wife-”

“And you were afraid that you wouldn’t measure up?” She frowns. “He’s made you unhappy.”

That you can’t deny.

“I…marriage has been difficult. I never saw myself marrying to begin with. I thought I could live my little life out in my home. I never wanted much.” You lean back against the chair, tired. “I didn’t need a lot of money or fancy clothes. I would have been happy with maybe a few more jobs so that I could eat every day, but even that was not necessary.”

“You’re a fool.” The old woman says.

You meet her eyes and the scolding in her eyes is clear.

“Are you some meager waif?” She demands, her withered hand in a fist on your table.

“I-”

“Did you pull yourself out of obscurity so that you could let some spoiled, self-serving King walk all over you?”

“He’s not-” You begin, but she slams her hand on the table and it startles you so badly the words die on your lips.

“Why are you withering?”

Withering? You think back to when you first arrived, the excitement you’d felt. The eagerness to begin your new life.

All of that had disappeared over time.

You look down at your hands in your lap, carefully tracing the nails of your right hand with your left. Ashamed to look at the old woman because she saw you fight for yourself. You’d been completely different back at home.

Why have you let this defeat you?

“I…I didn’t expect to love my husband.” You admit, biting your bottom lip. “I was curious before we met but once we did, he was nothing like the men back home.”

“Just because he’s showered and dressed in silks does not make him superior, girl.” She scolds.

“It’s not that.” You give her a small grimace, a shake of your head as you think back to the small things that had made you fall hard. “With others, he was different. He loves his friends and does everything that he can to ensure their happiness.

“He was considerate, even if he didn’t speak kindly with me. His words were harsh and unkind, but he’d make sure that I was comfortable. When he learned that I could not read or write, he brought the best scholars to teach me.

“When he learned that I enjoyed jellies and jams, he asked the cooks to make more of it so that I never had a breakfast without it. I’ve wanted for nothing, grandmother, save for his love in return.” You bite your lip, wondering if you should admit this to someone…you didn’t even tell Thor…

“I—I saw him a few times, watching me. A soft expression on his face. I don’t think he knows that I saw him, but when he would look at me in that way, I thought that maybe he was beginning to like me? Perhaps he might someday even come to love me?”

“And he has not?” She asks, uncertain.

“He says that he does.” You sigh. “I ran away.”

“Oh, everyone knows that the Queen of Broklin went missing. Rather, they know that she suddenly disappeared. Some speculators were certain that the King had killed her himself.” She states.

You’re shocked though you really shouldn’t be. Gossip can be terrible, and you know that not many people like you. None of the nobility anyway. Not in Broklin. Your friends are the poor and the wretched.

That’s where you fit in the best.

“People are terrible.” You frown.

“They saw his dislike for you. He has only himself to blame.” She waves her hand, unimpressed with his Majesty it seems and although you’re grateful that she’s so resolutely on your side, you also feel a surge of protectiveness towards him.

The urge to defend him.

You bite the inside of your cheek and will yourself silent. His Majesty doesn’t need you to fight for him. He fights for himself well enough.

Saying nothing, you wallow once again in the pit you’ve managed to crawl into with his Majesty pushing you away all this time. Only now do you see how his neglect really affects you.

Only someone who knew the old you would see it to point it out.

“There, there, dear. I mean nothing by it. But I didn’t swear to your mother on her deathbed that I would look out for you only to have you wilt into submission for a man. King or not.” She nods, firm, decided.

She’s so strange. She doesn’t speak like the beggar woman you thought she was. She almost sounds like nobility herself.

“Will you stay close by?” You wonder, hoping that she’ll remain in Broklin. “I don’t know what to expect with the baby, and I would like you to be here when I give birth.”

The old woman smiles, finally, a bit of kindness for you though you know she means well with her chastising.

“Of course. I have no one else who depends on me.” She reaches for your hands again and gives them a squeeze before cackling, voice raspy and rough as you join her with a chuckle.

“So, will you tell your husband?” She wonders and you don’t need her to clarify what she means.

Your own smile slides right off. Knowing your answer already after thinking about it for two days.

“No.” You sigh. “I want to tell him. I want to make him happy, but I also don’t want to see him. I don’t want to be near him. If I tell him that I’m with child, he will want to be around, and I need a rest. I can’t keep listening to him compare me to her.”

Grandmother nods.

“I’ll wait a little while. Just until I know I can face him again and hold my chin up.” How long that will take, you have no idea.

~~~~~~~~~~

You move Grandmother into a small cottage on the castle property. It’s past the garden, nestled into an outcropping of forest. Shrouded in moss, vine, and pretty yellow wildflowers that make you smile.

She refuses as long as she can, but you insist longer.

You don’t want to ask his Majesty for anything, but with Grandmother here, you need a reason to give him.

My King,

I know that I asked you to keep your distance for my own respite and I had no intention of contacting you, but I was wondering if I might hire a woman to help me improve my health?

She was one of my tutors in the school my father sent me to, and I would greatly appreciate having her close by. I am still not well and could use the assistance.

And because you didn’t want to see ungrateful or uncaring…

I hope you’re well. And that you’re eating and sleeping. I know you pace…

Too much, Y/N.

Regards,

Queen Y/N Rogers of Broklin

If there was one good thing that you felt about writing your letter it was that you finally had a true task to use your schooling on.

Your letters are still a little clumsy. They’re nowhere near as beautiful as Nat’s or your tutor’s, but they are legible.

You’d had to look up a word or two to remember the spelling, but you’re proud as you hold it out to Nat and watch her raise her eyebrows then smile at you.

“I’ll deliver it right away.” She’d said.

His Majesty had replied within half an hour. It felt eager.

Y/N,

Of course, you may hire a new maid, you are entitled to your own servants and may hire a staff as large as you please.

I hope that you are not straining yourself and that you are eating well. You must eat to gain your strength back, my pigeon. Please, do not deprive yourself. I’ll have food sent up every hour in case you get hungry.

Shit…did someone overhear you and Grandmother about being pregnant? You haven’t even confirmed it for Nat.

No. That’s excessive. I’ll have them bring two servings at mealtimes for you, in case you are hungrier than you anticipate.

If you need anything. Don’t hesitate to ask. If I can do something to help…I love you, my darling.

Your stomach flips and your heart erupts into uncontrollable flutters that travel down along your arms and make your fingers numb.

I know you don’t believe me yet, but I’ll keep trying. I’ll never stop trying, Y/N.

You look over at the table with a freshly picked bouquet of peonies, a new pale red cloak—not pink just muted—and a book about the different types of flowers that grow in the region.

Thank you for sending me a letter. Your writing has gotten so much better and your spelling is impeccable.

His gushing has your neck all hot, your ears are on fire, and your damn heart is hammering against your ribcage.

Whatever you want, I will give you. But if I might? Please don’t leave me.

 Yours forever,

Steven G. Rogers

You’d sat there in stunned silence until Nat finally came in leading a group of maids to serve your dinner.

You’ve spent two weeks avoiding his Majesty. You miss seeing him for more than just a few seconds. You miss being around him, but he’s respecting your wishes and you are grateful.

“Will you see him today?” Nat asks, setting your tea down before sitting down beside you.

“No.” You shake your head.

“Y/N…” She begins, and you know that tone.

She’s going to fight for him. Try and convince you.

You’re not sure what state he’s in and you don’t want to know. The few times you’ve seen him, he smiles at you. Trying to reach you. His eyes glittering blue pools pouring hope and what you think might really be love but you don’t know because you’ve never seen it in him.

Luckily, your doors are pushed open and you turn to look as Tony and Pepper hurry in, preventing Nat from pleading for his Majesty.

You get to your feet and smile, then it falters as Pepper rushes to put her arms around your shoulders and hug you close while Tony stops only two steps into your bedroom, a tick in his jaw, dark eyes full controlled rage.

This is the first time you’ve seen them since his Majesty carried you into the castle.

Those moments are a blur. A mixture of drifting in and out of consciousness and clear images of him looking down at you in concern as he pleads with you—“Please, Y/N, please. Don’t leave me.”—and the flashes of other familiar faces.

“Well?” He asks, and Pepper turns in your arms to look at him.

“Tony,” She begins, moving to your right while she keeps her left arm around your waist.

She looks so beautiful, her red hair gathered up on her head, a small silver tiara with large yellow diamonds along the front.

“No, mother. I-I deserve his anger.” You swallow hard, trying to push past the lump in your throat. “I shouldn’t have run away.”

“No.” Father says, “You damn well shouldn’t have.”

You want to square your shoulders and protest being chastised again like a child, but you know what you did.

“I’m sorry.” You shrink, but Pepper’s arm tightens around you and she gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“If you were struggling here, if you needed a break, we would have come for you. We would have taken you away from here. Do you have any idea how worried we were?” Tony demands, his voice intense but not a shout.

It’s nearly shaking.

“Forgive me. I didn’t think. I just…I wanted to stop doing the right thing…the proper thing for a while. I wanted to feel what I was feeling and not consider the consequences.” You sigh, frustrated with yourself and the way your marriage had taken a nosedive at that point.

“How’d that work out for you?” He asks, but most of the anger is gone now. “If something like this happens again, if you cannot stand being here, we are a day’s journey away. All you have to do is write and we will come and fetch you.”

His promise is genuine and finally you look up to meet his eyes.

You have no time to really look at him though because he’s already crossed over to you and pulled you into a tight hug.

“I wasn’t joking when I said you were a daughter to me.” Father whispers into your ear.

You can feel mother’s hand stroking your shoulder and then father’s arm to comfort him too.

“She’s alright, Tony. Look at her. She’s much better.”

“I could just kill him.” He fusses. “Make it look like an accident? Extend Malibia with this kingdom? It would be really easy.”

You huff a small laugh and hug him back, feeling warm and safe in a way you haven’t since the death of your parents.

“I really am sorry, father.” You sigh, regretful of the sorrow you must have caused them.

“As long as you’re alright,” Mother says, “We’re alright. We only want you to be happy.”

Father finally pulls back to look you over.

“I know what I asked of you. If he’s not making you happy-”

You smile at him, reaching down to take his hand and mother’s in your other.

“It’s getting better. And…” You drag your teeth along the already bitten flesh of your bottom lip. “…I love him.”

You feel a wave of shame and disappointment. He’s treated you so…what if you’re wrong to stay?

“King Steven is a good man.” Mother offers, seeing the torment you’re in. “I was very angry at him this past month, but he’s assured me that he will begin to treat you as you deserve. He’s had to deal with a lot since Margaret died and I think he’s finally ready to move on.”

He loves me. But not the same.

“What if I can’t make him happy?” You worry.

“To hell with him, then.” Father growls. “Come home.”

“Tony.” Mother chastises him.

She elbows him, pushing him aside as she takes your hands and moves to sit you down and sit across from you.

“Marriage is one of the hardest things you will ever do. Sometimes, he’ll drive you crazy. So crazy that you’ll think about leaving him. It might not be a lasting thought. Sometimes, it comes and goes in a second. But it will test you. Life with another person can be messy. You are both separate people with needs and wants that may not always be the same.

“I have no doubt in my mind that you can overcome this hurdle. If you do love him and if he loves you as much as he told me he does, I’m certain that you two will overcome all of the obstacles that life might throw you.” She reaches up to stroke your cheek and you lean into her hand, still nervous but your heart is a little more at ease.

“Thank you, mother. I will try hard to be a good wife.” You promise.

“Just be happy.” Father grumbles, moving to stand beside mother.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders and draws her attention up to him.

“When did you want to leave me?” He asks, pouting a little.

“Tony, don’t start.” She sighs, winking at you as she gets up and moves to your tea table where Nat is already serving her a cup.

“Darling, If I did something to make you angry, I need you to tell me what it was so that I never do it again. You can never leave me.” His eyes are wide, and he really does look as if he’d be lost without her.

You watch them for a minute, the gentle smile that crinkles the corners of mother’s eyes as father takes her in his arms as she tries to pull away to sit down at the table.

They play like that for a bit but then a thought occurs to you.

You look around towards your bedroom doorway.

“Where’s Morgana?” You know she’s home. Or she’s been home.

Shortly after you were married, she came home.

“She’s on her way now. She’ll be here tomorrow at noon.” Mother says, finally managing to sit down.

“Where is she?” You wonder. “Why didn’t she come with you?”

“She had lessons to finish up that she missed when she was off running away—maybe they’re really related!” Father says, turning wide eyes on mother.

“She’s travelling alone?” You worry, fretting over the teen.

“Not like she hasn’t done it before. But no, she’s coming with someone. A friend.” Father assures you.

“Thor?” You ask eagerly.

Father narrows his eyes at you. “How did you-? Yes. He was coming back in from Asgard and offered to escort her.”

Like sunshine, the news that Thor is coming back after not having seen him since your return, warms you pleasantly. Your body is absolutely humming for him. You miss him. After spending more than a month with only him, he’s become indispensable.

Suddenly, tomorrow looks much brighter than today.

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve isn’t feeling well.

He hasn’t been feeling well since you came back home and told him that you didn’t want to see him.

Every lingering gaze, every moment you’d tried to take his hand, all those quiet moments when you’d wanted to talk to him, and he could sense it in the air had been taken for granted.

You’d wanted him then. You’d wished he would let you in. You’d wanted to be a part of his life and now…now you can’t even look at him for more than a few seconds.

He waits with pained anticipation for you to come out of your writing and reading lessons, just so that he can cross into his council room and pass you as he does.

His heart pounds as you stop when he crosses in front of you. He stops and he bows, it’s not exactly a warm greeting, but he wants you to know that he respects you.

You’ve given him no indication that he might greet you any other way.

You curtsy back. Then you meet his eyes for two seconds. They’re endless and too fast all at once.

Not a word has passed your lips and he’s glad to see that you’ve at least gained a little weight since coming back home.

You’re eating. You don’t look as tired as you used to.

He could kick himself for having made you restless.

He misses touching you.

He might not have shown it because Margaret was always there, pressing herself in between the two of you as he laid on top of you and took you.

Every moment he spent sheathed within you, Margaret’s face danced behind his eyes.

That didn’t make him blind to you though.

The way your skin felt pressed against his. You were never completely naked, and he hates that he never let you enjoy yourself. He prevented the two of you from connecting and he hates that now that he’s willing to let it all fall away, the damage he’s caused is done and you don’t want him anymore.

He had you. You were right there, in his hands, and he let you go. He actively prevented you from coming close and all he wants to do now is wrap you up in his arms and kiss you.

Fuck! He hasn’t even kissed you.

And you’re so healthy now. Lips looking luscious and just begging to be devoured and he just knows that Thor kissed you. He must have. How could he have resisted?

Steve sees red. Murderous rage and agony tear at his chest as he reminds himself that he has only himself to blame. He pushed you into someone else’s arms.

He regrets all of it. He regrets everything that he did because he couldn’t let go of Maggie.

You��re in his every thought now. As much as Margaret was. No. You’re in his head more. When he wakes, he wonders if you’ve eaten. When he lays down to sleep—on the days that he manages to coax himself into bed—he pictures you laying beside him. Cuddled up against his side.

Had you slept beside Thor when you were out of the castle? You must have. He would have held you in his arms probably.

Steve sighs, slamming the side of his fist against the top of his desk sending quills scattering and an inkwell tossed over from the hit.

“Sure. Take it out on your desk. It’s all the desk’s fault.” Samuel chides.

“Let his Majesty express his discontent, Sam.” Bucky says, moving towards that special corner that Steve had made up for Margaret so long ago.

“Stay away from there.” Steve orders, looking up at Bucky before rising to his feet and crossing the room to verify that the thick white curtains he’d had installed are still shut tight.

“Why did you close it off?” Bucky asks, dropping his hand just as Steve cuts in front of him.

“I didn’t close it off.” Steve says, “I’m remodeling. I’m not ready to show it to anyone.”

“You’re getting rid of Maggie’s corner?” Sam asks, sounding surprised but also impressed.

“I have to.” Steve sighs. “I can’t keep clinging to the past. Not if I want to make things with Y/N work.”

“Can you make it work?” Bucky wonders, moving to sit on the edge of Steve’s desk.

Steve looks at him, hands still holding the curtains shut.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be able to?” He demands, upset at the implication that he can’t.

He must. You’re his. You’re his wife. No one will take you away from him. He’ll make sure you know that you’re all that matters…even if he slips up. He’ll hid it. He’ll bury his grief for Maggie down deep so that you never have to feel like you’re not enough again.

“You shouldn’t rush it, Steve. If you need to let go, let go at your own pace. Her Majesty will-”

“What?” Steve demands. “Understand? I compared her to Margaret, Buck. Every day. All day. I can hear myself now. Margaret wouldn’t do that. Margaret did this. Maggie liked that. Maggie hated this. Maggie, Maggie, Maggie. I hadn’t even realized I was doing it until the night she left me. For the sake of our marriage, I need to put Maggie behind me.”

“We understand that, Steve.” Sam pipes in. “We’re not saying that you shouldn’t try and move on, all we’re saying is that you should give yourself a little bit of a break. You and Maggie were…what you two had was not something that you find every day. Losing that is hard.”

“Losing Y/N is harder.” Steve sighs, turning to face the curtains. “My life is full of tough choices. Darkness surrounds me. Hydra, Pierce, Rumlow, Hand, and all the others…Evil is everywhere. Y/N is everything good that I keep fighting to preserve. Did you see what she did with the people? The poor?”

“Yes.” Bucky nods. “She’s done a lot for the people of the Kingdom.”

“Margaret didn’t have time for things like that. Her life was all about the evil. She made it her job to help me eradicate it and I hate to admit it, but the Kingdom floundered with both of us focused elsewhere.

“Then this girl comes out of nowhere and she…she reminds me that it isn’t just me and the evil. It’s more. She depends on me. There are millions of other people who depend on me. I-I already knew that, but she showed me that there was more that I could do. I don’t have to be the Captain only. I can be Steve Rogers, King of Broklin, and make a difference in a very significant way.” Steve can’t believe what he’s about to say, but it’s true and he can’t deny it.

“She’s the Queen this kingdom deserves. The Queen that Margaret could never be. Y/N is the woman that was meant to rule at my side. I love her.” Steve nods, smiling lightly as he accepts what he’s been afraid to admit to himself, to his friends, and to Margaret’s memory. “And I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure that she knows that.”

Bucky meets Sam’s eyes. Softly, they smile.

P.S. I was going to include these, cut up and placed where they are in story but as I was adding them, I began to worry that maybe not everyone would be able to read them so I decided to include them in their entirety at the bottom instead. I spent WAY too much time working on these. Anyway, enjoy.

[spideeysense]

It started with a roll: A Royal!Bucky Barnes x Reader fic.(Part 2)

A/N: Hey all! I am so happy to present to you the second part of It started with a roll! This is a slow burn fic, so don’t expect too much romance right away, however I did dabble in it a bit in this part. As this is my first time writing a slow burn piece, feedback is greatly appreciated! 

Also I have started a taglist so please comment or message me if you would like to be added to it! 

Word Count: 2k (or a little above) Sorry that this is short than the last one! I’m trying to keep is suspenseful! 

Warnings: Mentions of partial nudity, a dab of violence (very minimal).

The next few days passed uneventfully. A few nobles came in and were discussing their outfits for the ball, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop. It was a masquerade, apparently. How fun and mysterious. You were sure Bucky had chosen the theme. A smile graced your lips as you thought of him. 

What am I doing? You thought. Thinking of a soon to be married man…who’s the King! How stupid. 

Peter had dropped by once again, with a formal letter, asking for your presence at the palace the day of the ball, so you could bake the rolls. And you tucked it away into your pocket, careful to keep it hidden from the others. The more your thoughts dwelled on the ball, the more you realized that it was going to be expensive. Maybe you could ask your friend the seamstress to make you a dress out of one you already had, but it’ll be pricey. You started saving tips on the side. This would be no cheap endeavor. 

 One night, exactly a week and a half before the ball, you laid in your bed, sweaty as one could be due to the increasing summer heat. You had rid yourself of your duvet, and winter blankets. You wore your summer sleep dress, thin and almost translucent. It was the only thing that kept you cool enough to sleep. 

As you started to drift off, a soft tap jolted you awake. You sat up in your bed and lit the small oil lamp on your bed stand. The tap came  again, and again, and again. It seemed like it was coming from your window. Cautiously, oil lamp in hand, you moved towards the window. Even through the glare of the lamp you could clearly make out a figure. For a moment,  you stood still. Your heart was racing in your chest. Until you started to make them out...it was...Bucky? Bucky was clad in a dark blue cloak that partially obscured his face, and simple garments. He was sitting hunched on your small balcony. 

Quickly you unlatched your window and held it open for him. “Bucky?” He smiled at you as he haphazardly landed in your house with a loud thud. He cringed at the sound. “Sorry,” 

You stared at him in awe as he removed his cloak and placed it gently on the back of a chair. 

“What...are you doing here?” You asked him. 

“I came by for a visit.” Bucky chuckled as it was something that happens all the time. 

“But you're the King.” You said bluntly as you lit more lamps. “Why are you actually here?” A pang of guilt passed through you as you suggested he had ulterior motives. 

He seemed unbothered by your question. “Do you have any more of those scones?” Bucky said, removing his jacket and placing it next to his cloak. 

“Scones?” You asked in disbelief and scoffed. “Yes the peach ones-no the apricot ones.” He confirmed as he leaned against the wall. 

“Uh-let me check. Here come with me,” You motioned at him to follow you as you left your bedroom. You could hear Bucky’s feet touch the ground, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

“Don’t worry about being quiet, I’m sure you already woke the neighbors up once you decided to fall into my bedroom” you quipped and smiled when you heard him chuckle.

Entering the kitchen you lit a big oil lamp that sat right in the middle of your small table. It created a soft warm glow that danced off of Bucky’s features. You couldn’t help but stare. To distract yourself, you immediately started sifting through the cabinets looking for scones.

As he watched you look through your cabinets, Bucky realized what you were wearing. The soft haze of the flame illuminated your backside through your slip. A hot, pink, blush rushed up his body and onto his cheeks. Here you were ,unbothered, wearing nothing but a silky, translucent slip, in front him. The King. For a moment his jaw hung loose, and eyes stayed on you. And then he cleared his throat and pretended to be very into the design on the wall. 

“Is your wall made out of brick?” He observed. 

“What?” You questioned him as you turned around, and placed a small basket of scones on the table. Ignoring his questions you turned around once again, looking around for your pitcher of water. 

You placed the ceramic jug on the table and laid two glasses out. “My apologies for having nothing more.” You murmured as you sat down. 

Bucky waved his gloved hand as he took a seat across from you and picked at scone.

Staring at him in awe, the reality of the situation hit you. The king, the actual king was sitting at your dining table eating a scone at god knows what hour. 

“So why did you decide to visit me?” You asked him, your hands busying themselves with pouring water into the glasses. 

“Well,” He said through bites. “I used to do this all time, it’s how I saw my people.” He paused as he took another bite of your scone. “I would visit friends I had in the city, maybe party around a bit, but of course both of my parents were oblivious.” He chuckled as he continued on. “But with all this engagement shit, I’ve had barely any time to myself.” 

You stared at him silently as he told his story. “Now my only friends are Peter and Steve.” Bucky murmured before he downed his glass of water. 

“Well, you have me as a friend now.” You gave him a soft smile. 

Bucky swore his heart grew three times its size. He beamed at you like a child beams at a candy store. 

After that, the conversation flowed easily between the both of you. You talked about anything under the sun. Your favorite piece of opera, his favorite play, etc. etc. You asked him why he wore gloves all the time, and he revealed that he had lost his left arm from a military accident, and had been replaced with a metal prosthetic. A prosthetic that had been from the strongest metal, a gift from a faraway Kingdom. 

Bucky stayed even after the scones were finished, and he left when the sun started to peak over the horizon. With a promise he’d be back the next night. Dumbfounded at what had transpired you stared aimlessly out the window. 

The visits became a frequent event. Every other night Bucky would wait for you to let him in as he sat on your balcony. After a couple of days you told him to come after midnight, so you could at least get a little sleep. But that didn’t stop Bucky from coming. He would tap on your window until you awoke from your slumber. He would admire you as you started to stir and give you a big smile once you opened the window for him. Sometimes he would ask if you want to go walking with him, and you had no reason to say no. You would giggle to yourselves as you made your way through the empty streets of town. The sound of your shoes tapping the cobblestone street and your whispers hung in the air. Of course, you both stayed hidden. Large hoods obscured both of your faces. If a bystander was to look out their window, they would simply assume a couple was making their way home. 

 A scandal it would be if someone discovered the King-a mere few days before his engagement ball-with another woman. 

Every once in a while, when you would be talking and walking, his fingers would brush against yours. Or his steely blue eyes would linger a moment to long on your lips. But you always brushed it off. It was stupid to act on it these developing feelings. You had convinced yourself that this was simply a short term thing. Once he was married he would stop coming, he would have a wife, and soon an heir. It hurt you to think about it too much, as you had grown very fond of your time spent together. 

On the last night before the ball Bucky had snuck into your room again. However this time with a large package. 

“What’s this?” You asked him as he placed it on your bed. “It’s for you, a gift.” You were awestruck. 

The package was a white box, with a light pink ribbon, tied in a bow. You recognized the emblem of the King’s tailor. You gasped. “Are you sure?” Your hands grazed the top of the box. 

“Yes, I’ve never been more sure.” Bucky leaned against the wall and watched you carefully. 

Gingerly, you untied the ribbon and opened the box. You discarded the tissue paper gently and your jaw dropped at what you saw. Inside the box sat a beautifully intricate mask. It had gold spirals that surrounded it and little tiny silver stars dotted all over it. Underneath the mask, was an equally beautiful dress. You thumbed the silk fabric of the dress. From what you could see it was a rich navy blue color. 

“I can’t accept this,” You mumbled as your eyes stayed on the package in front of you. “It’s too much.”

“Of course you can,” Bucky said as he moved behind you, putting his hand on the small of your back, his head peeking over your shoulder. “I am allowed to give gifts to my friends.” Gently Bucky turned you around so you were facing him, he was much taller compared to you that you had to crane your neck to look at him. 

“I-” You stumbled over your words. “Thank you,” 

Bucky smiled, white teeth glistening in the dark glow. “You are very welcome,” 

He took your right hand in his flesh hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks, and you heart start to pound. 

“I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night.” Bucky said his eyes never leaving yours. “Peter, will come here in the morning, to accompany you to the palace so you can start baking. I believe it will be quite a heft task, but I know you can handle it.” He said the last part slowly, almost a whisper.

And with that, he dropped your hand and rushed out the window, leaving you stunned in your place. Quickly you slipped the box and it’s contents under your wardrobe and flopped on your bed, you couldn’t help but smile up at your ceiling and squeal like a schoolgirl. You thought of all the festivities that were to transpire tomorrow, and maybe, just maybe would you be able to see Bucky. 

A tap at your window pulled you out of your reverie. Odd you thought, Did he forget something. Gingerly you opened your window, and audibly gasped when you felt a cold hand grab your wrist. 

“Don’t think for a moment that I am oblivious to the King’s infidelities.” The form hissed. In the dark you could merely make out the recognizable features of Astoria.  “Please, your highness I have no idea what you are talking about,” You pleaded with her as her grip on your wrists tightened, her nails digging into your skin painfully, you let out a soft yelp from the pain. 

“You think I’m stupid enough to ignore the fact that my soon to be husband, the King may I remind you, visits a stupid whore every other night?” She spat now both hands were on your wrists, pulling you closer to her face. “You are nothing to him, you are simply a plaything until he gets his priorities straight.” She continued her tirade of hurtful phrases. “He will fuck you and then he will leave as soon as he is weds me. After that, everything will be mine, including him.” She articulated as she pushed you back into your bedroom, letting go of your hands. “Know your place, slut.” Astoria spat on the ground as she disappeared into the night. Leaving you shaking and breathless, holding onto yourself. You shimmied yourself under the covers, pulling a sheet over your head. 

You didn’t care that it was hot in the room, you simply needed to hide. You felt fearful. And a concern for the King had festered inside your belly. 

Everything will be mine, including him. Played over and over inside your head. You told yourself there was nothing really to be concerned about, but still the weight of her words rested inside your body. 

Her words were venomous and malicious. It was simple a statement, but to you, it sounded like a warning. 

Hope you all enjoyed this part! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated!

taglist: 

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[sada-siva-sanyaasi]

For Her - Part 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern Royalty AU)

Genre: Romance, fluff, angst.

Words: 1,418 words.

Warnings: Maybe in the future? None for now.

Series Summary: He was just supposed to attend her coronation, possibly make a new ally out of her country. Not fall in love with her.

Prologue | Part 1 

The ride back to the castle was silent, in the beginning. Bucky looked out the window with awe as he eagerly took in the empire in front of him. Steve sat beside him and silently took in the limousine and the people in it.

The Princess of Themyscira sat a seat away, looking up every now and then at Bucky before turning away, her lips set in a pout. Her bodyguard pulled his phone out and typed something in before setting it down, and a second later the princess pulled her phone out, her pout twisting into a sneer as she turned to glare at him.

Steve bit his lip, a small smile on his face as he took in the exchange, but was pleasantly surprised when she turned to them and decided to initiate the conversation.

“There will be a long Royal tour around the empire soon, Your Majesty. You don’t have to drink it all in at once. A meal is best savoured with each bite.” The amused smirk on her face made Bucky smile as well, a soft laugh escaping him.

“Oh I’m sure the Royal tour will be fantastic. Your country is just too ethereal for me to take my eyes off it, Your Grace.”

Y/N’s smile fell for a short second, and she opened her mouth to reply when a sharp gasp left her. Bucky and Steve turned to look at her when she turned to glare at her bodyguard. “Why did you do that, Manny?” She hissed, rubbing her hip as he shrugged nonchalantly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Your Grace.” She bit her lip and turned away, looking at her other guards and signalling something before smiling at her guests.

“Manny was being… Manny. Right, Captain?” Both of them glared at each other and Bucky coughed into his fist, a small smirk on his face.

“Your captain and you seem close, Your Grace.” Y/N noted the smirk on his face and she adjusted her watch, clearing her throat.

“Manny and I grew up together, he’s been my best friend since I learnt to walk. So yes, we’re close. Aren’t we, Emmanuel?”

The Captain grimaced and turned away, grumbling under his breath. Her smirk widened and she leaned closer to Bucky, lowering her voice. “He despises being called Emmanuel. And he can’t scream at me with you around. Wonderful, right?”

Bucky laughed, staring at her. “Absolutely.” Steve cleared his throat and Y/N leaned back in her seat, when her phone rang. She looked at it and frowned, before sparing Bucky an apologetic look.

“I apologise, but I must attend to this call. I hope you don’t mind, Your Majesty.” He shook his head, and she went to talking into her phone, staring at her nails. “And how long do I have for that? Alright. We’re almost there anyway, I’ll meet you in the hall, thank you Peggy.” She set her phone down and smiled at Bucky, eyes so apologetic Bucky was ready to forgive her for even bombing his country.

“We’re near the Palace right now, but I must apologise as I will not be with you for longer than half an hour as I need to go and attend to other royalties arriving as well, Your Majesty.” Bucky stared at her as she bit her lip and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, looking at him as though she was waiting.

“What? Oh, no please I don’t mind, Your Grace. It’s quite alright.” She nodded, smiling, when the limo halted and her guards stepped out, opening the door for them and bowing.

The moment Bucky stepped out, his breath hitched in throat as his eyes scanned the palace. Y/N stood beside him and sighed, smiling at the palace.

“I know, it’s a little too pretty. I heard the first Queen always wanted things she owned to be grand, didn’t realise until her great-granddaughter let me move in here a few years ago.”

He turned to her with wide eyes as they both began to walk towards the palace, their guards surrounding them. “Wait, what?”

“My great-grandmother, who passed away two years ago, is the first Queen’s great-granddaughter, and Themyscira’s first Empress. She lived a long and good life, I should say, having lived here her entire life.” Bucky nodded as he noticed his secretary and Prime Minister reach them right then, only a few feet behind them.

Tony and Natasha bowed to the royals, and Bucky nodded in return as Y/N just smiled and shook their hands, ushering them closer as they noticed the paparazzi nearby. “How about you smile for the cameras once, the paparazzi look excited.” Tony said, and Y/N chuckled, smiling along with all of them before motioning for them to follow her into the palace.

A lady walked towards them, bowing to all of them and then smiling at Y/N, almost looking relieved to see her.

“Y/N- Your Grace, welcome back. Welcome to Themyscira, Your Majesty, Prime Minister Romanoff and Mr. Stark. My name is Margaret Carter, I am Her Grace’s assistant, and I will also be in charge of your Royal Tour scheduled for tomorrow. Would you like me to escort you to your rooms?” Y/N raised an eyebrow as she stared at her. “You’ll leave me alone here, Pegs? With him?” She said, jerking her head in Manny’s direction who just scowled at her.

Everyone around her stared at her as Peggy just rolled her eyes and smiled. “I’m not leaving you alone in the middle of this palace, and I’m pretty sure he won’t hit you, Your Grace. Would you, Manny?”

Manny opened his mouth, but another voice said, “I would, she probably deserved it.”

Y/N sighed and clapped her hands, looking towards the stairs with a smile. “Please meet my siblings, Your Majesty.”

Two men and a lady walked towards them, everyone turning and bowing before returning to what they were doing. “Prince Thor, the oldest, Princess Diana, the second-born, and Prince Loki, the third sibling.”

Loki smirked as he stood beside Y/N. “You forgot to introduce yourself, little sister. Y/N, youngest and heir to the throne.”

Bucky chuckled as he greeted everyone, walking along as they all got seated in a room. Steve and Manny stayed outside, while Tony and Natasha had taken their seats beside Bucky.

“Thor is an architect,” Y/N said, watching Thor converse with Natasha while Tony and Loki engaged in a deep debate.

“I heard Princess Diana abdicated,” Bucky used, sipping his tea as he observed the sisters. “Any particular reason, Your Grace?”

Diana smiled, one that looked tired of the question making Bucky wish he could take it back. “Well, I was never interested in the throne and royal duties, my love was always for things beyond this empire. And I found him outside too,” she twisted the ring around her finger and gazed at it fondly, “he made me believe I was more than what everyone wanted me to be, and has stayed by my side as I made this decision as well. Now as Mrs. Trevor I feel more as me than I did as Diana, heir apparent to the throne of Themyscira.”

Bucky gazed at his own rings, the sapphires and opals glimmering under the fancy lights as he remembered the history of them. “I… I never thought of it, to be honest,” he sighed, pulling out the ring on his left middle finger; a gift from his grandfather. “All my life, I’ve been told that I was born to be King, and that Frigus was my right. But now that I am King, I see it’s more of a responsibility and honour than people make it to be.”

Y/N smiled to herself, opening her mouth, when her assistant walked into the room. “Pardon me, Your Grace, but it’s time.” Y/N glanced apologetically at Bucky before standing up, sticking her hand out.

“My apologies, Your Majesty. Duty calls. I will be seeing you soon, I suppose.” “Oh you will, Your Grace. Until we meet again.” Bucky shook her hand, but decided to call out to her just as she was about to leave the room.

“Also, why is it Your Grace? Aren’t princesses referred to as Royal Highnesses?” Y/N laughed, the sweet sound filling his ears and making him break a smile as well.

“Oh the ladies of this empire loved to be referred to as graceful rather than high, that’s it.”

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[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.”

[love-pyramus]

He found the one -Steve Rogers x fem!reader

This is a royal Au for @maarrvveell​ writing challenge.

Warnings: Literally nothing it’s just softness The art isn’t mine

“Your majesty?” Steve looked up at the voice of one of his servants. “The ball is to commence as the sun sets. I have been asked by the king to request you prepare.” Steve nods. “Thank you. You may tell him I am preparing as we speak.” The servant bows before leaving. Steve sighs. Tonight was his birthday, and as prince and sole heir to the throne he needed to pick someone to marry. He sighs as he gets ready, the ceremonial outfits were never comfortable. “Steve?” Queen Sarah walks in. “Mother,” Steve says, stepping around from the changing curtain. He was in a blue suit with gold buttons. “That is appropriate. I talked with your father. You can pick any girl in the kingdom, as long as she does not have a significant other.” Steve nods. “Mom?” Steve asks. Sarah looks at her son. “What if I don’t find someone? I want to marry for love.” Steve says. “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it, alright?” Sarah says. Steve nods. “Bucky is coming tonight as well. Worst comes to worst, you could always marry him.” Steve laughs at that. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bucky arrived about an hour before the ball started. “Prince James of the Winter Kingdom has arrived.” The two princes walked into the garden. “Tonight’s the night pal.” Bucky says. Steve sighs. “Buck, how will I know? If I’ve found the one, you know?” Seve asks. Bucky nods. “You’ll feel something inside you. It’s the best feeling in the world. Once you’ve felt that, you’ll know.” Bucky says. “When’d you turn into such a sap?” Steve asks. Bucky shrugs. The sun begins to set and the two walk back into the castle. Taking a seat on the throne Steve sits next to hs mother. Steve looks out at the crowd of people who are now in the ballroom. “Go mingle.” Sarah says. Steve chuckles and walks through the crowd.

“Dad, stop, you’re going to make me cry.” (Y/n) laughs as her dad walk around. “You look so much like you mother.” Her dad says. (Y/n) laughs. “Come on. The ball isn’t going to last forever.” (Y/n) says. Taking her fathers hand the two get in the carriage that had arrived for them. “I see some of my friends, I’m going to talk with them. Be safe, ok?” (Y/n) nods as her dad walks away. Walking into the gardens as the sun sets she looks at all the flowers.

Steve’s attention is caught by a beautiful young woman walking in. She was walking with an older man, who left after a few minutes. The young lady walked out into the garden. Excusing himself from the conversation he was in walked into the garden. Finding her wasn’t to hard as she was standing and looking at the sunset. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Steve asks standing next to her. He had apparently startled her as she jumped. “Oh! Your majesty, I didn’t see you.” She says, curtseying. Steve smiles. “There is no need for those formalities. Please, call me Steve.” The young lady smiles. “Very well Steve.” She says. Steve smiles. “Now do I get the name of the beautiful lady in front of me or do I have to wait?” Steve asks. “(Y/n), your majesty.” She says. “(Y/n). A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Steve smiles at the blush that shoes up afterwards. A slow song begins to play inside. “May I have this dance?” Steve asks offering his hand. “You may, your majesty.” (Y/n) takes Steve’s hand and the two begin to dance.

The queen looks down from the balcony at the two. “See, I told him. He’d know.” Bucky says standing beside her. The queen smiles. “He finally found her.”

[jojos-masterlist]

Bucky Barnes x Reader Series Masterlist

Guys Like That    Completed

Bucky x plus sized!Reader. You are an inhuman with intuitive intelligence who tony and Bruce hired to work with in the lab. You have a crush on Bucky and Bucky has a crush on you. But you mistake his flirting for him being friendly.

I’m Not Him   Hiatus

To Bucky’s dismay the sacrifices made by him and Steve didn’t end Hydra, it just drove them underground. They had-apparently-become active again and now Director Fury was asking him to join a team. A team made up of people who expected him to be something he wasn’t- Captain America. But Captain America died after falling off of a cliff in the 40’s…….or did he.

Sanctuary     Completed

You are a princess on the run from your cruel brother. Three men- Bruce (the court doctor), Tony (a weapons designer who worked for your father) and Clint (your most trusted guard) sneak you into enemy territory.  They bring you to the Winter Court where they ask King James for assistance in exchange for their skills and your hand in marriage. He agrees. Will this arrangement turn into love? Or will it always be political?

You Deserve More Than Me

You are King Stevens beloved little sister, who is hopelessly in love with his best friend High Duke James. The only problem is James refuses to see you when he gets home from battle.

The Witch of the Rogers Pack   

You and your father left your hometown of Salem, Massachusetts to move to Beacon Hills, California after a hunter attacked your home and killed your mother. You and your mother were the last witches from an old and powerful coven and now it was just you. You attempt to lay low until the Rogers pack confronts you about why you’re on the dead pool.

Star Crossed

You were the adopted daughter Frank Reagan, the Police Commissioner of New York City. He had adopted you when you were 4, bringing you into a large family- something you’ve never had before. You decide to go to Harvard- Like your older brother had. It’s there you meet Bucky Barnes, heir to the New York Mob. The two of you fall in love despite your different backgrounds. Will your families approve?

Butterfly Wings and Guitar Strings

The Avengers are the biggest rock band in the world, but you’ve never been a fan. That is until your best friend Helen Cho wins back stage passes to their concert in Vegas. While she’s making heart eyes at the drummer Thor, you’re falling for their lead guitarist Bucky Barnes.

[kee-writestrashh]

Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

ao3

Summary:  You are the wife to the Heir of the Red Kings, Ramsay Bolton. living the undercover life of a mob wife has its perks, and you love your husband. But you find out something that seems to unfold a series of unwanted events…

Chapter 41: Eye of the Storm

"So lemme get this straight, your father in law wants to kill his son and use the child inside of you to be groomed to his liking?" Tyene said, setting her empty glass down and giving you a hard look.

"Yes. But what's more is that Walda is pregnant apparently. If she has a boy too my son will be no better off. Just another Ramsay in Roose's eyes. All three of us will be killed." You said, throat feeling tight as you struggled to get the words out.

"Then we have to strike first." Tyene said, as if it were that simple.

"No. We can't. You don't understand. Ramsay doesn't know! Nobody knows except you. And it will stay that way. Do you understand? Tell no one." You said with a threatening snarl.

"How and why are you keeping this from Ramsay?! Friday night showed me he would love to kill his father."

You sighed, pulling your phone toward you. "That's the problem though, Ty. Rams doesn't want to kill his father. He wants his father to love him. It's sad. Roose hates him, and all Ramsay wants is for his father to approve of him. Just once to praise him. A pat on the back. And I'm afraid that's what's going to happen. Roose is going to lure him into a sense of false security and kill him once he thinks his father fucking loves him. Ramsay is like a toddler. He acts out to get a reaction from Roose, no matter how negative. Any response is better than none, right?" You unlocked your phone, thinking you better tell your mother the 'good news'.

"What are you saying?" Tyene asked, leaning back into the couch.

"I'm saying that Ramsay is unstable and vulnerable because he's fucked up in the head! Watch. Roose is going to prey on all the mental instability he has instilled into his son. I cannot let that happen! We need to strike. But I can't afford it until he makes the first move. And the most unsettling part of that is it is unpredictable. It may be tonight. It may be next week. Hell, Roose may not do shit until his newest child is born. I don't know. But I need to be ready. I need more girls in Kings establishments. Fuck the Lannister's for now. I could care less about them. We are at war within our own ranks and nobody but us know. But the Boys are not to know anything."

"Your secret dies with me. And I plan on living many, many more years." Tyene said, holding her pinky out to you.

You gave a laugh and took her pinky in yours.

"So, where are the Boys now?" She asked, standing and grabbing up her empty glass.

You too rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen.

"Don't know really. On the way back here we passed that group of men from Friday night. Rams said they were Frey men. It's funny though... Kings, Lions, and the Towers. What an odd group to be dealing with one another..." You said slowly, looking back down at your phone.

[You: hey mom. Just wanted to let you know, you will be having a grandson come end of June.]

"I've only ever heard of the Frey's in passing. I don't know much about them?" Tyene said, sitting at the table as you set your phone on the counter and pulled the freezer open.

"The Boys talk shit about them. Apparently bottom of the barrel kind of folks. Inbred idiots who are only in the game because they come from old money." You glanced over at Tyene, "wanna stay for dinner?"

"Sure. If you don't mind. I'm stuck here until Matt gets back anyways." She shrugged.

You saw your phone screen light up. You picked it up:

[Mom: oh my goodness! Your father and I are both excited! I can't even begin to tell you how excited I am! We love you baby! Come see us soon.]

[You: alright momma. I'll see what I can do. I love you guys too!]

×××

"Hey good looking, whatcha got cookin'?" Ramsay purred, grabbing your hips and pulling you back into him.

You melted into him with a grin.

"Thought I'd finally make that rack of ribs." You replied, motioning at the salad you had been cutting up, "and salad. And baked potatoes."

"Right on, little momma. Everything good here?" He said, releasing you and reaching for a glass tumbler.

"Far as I know." You shrugged, gasping as something pushed you into the counter slightly.

You looked down quickly to a pair a deep brown eyes, a wet black nose, and lolling pink tongue.

You shot Ramsay a dirty, disbelieving look.

"Rams. I told you, I'm too tired to keep up with a puppy." You said, kneeling down to love all over the puppy regardless.

"You keep bitching about how boring it is here. So I solved your problem." Ramsay shrugged, pouring his whiskey into the ice filled tumbler.

You rolled your eyes, but grinned anyways, "name?"

"Don't know. Fuck Head if he pukes in the floorboard again."

"Puppy!" Tyene said excitedly, walking in the kitchen. "Look at these ears!"

"See. Someone likes puppies at least." Ramsay sneered, leaving the kitchen.

"I'm naming him!" You called after your husband.

"Then I get to name our son. Choose wisely." Ramsay called back.

You pursed your lips, turning to the sink to wash your hands.

"Think if I choose a stupid enough name for the dog Ramsay will choose a decent name for our child?"

Tyene snorted, "no. He would do anything to get under your skin."

You sighed, "you're right. But as long as my son isn't named Kylo or Anakin, or... Han Solo."

"Nah, it would be more like Bruce or Clark. Maybe Steve or... what's Iron Man's name?" Tyene laughed.

"Tony." you said, curling your lip in distaste .

"See, Anakin Bolton sounds better than Tony Bolton in my opinion."

"You are not helping." You laughed.

"I'm here to keep secrets and do dirty deeds. Not help defend you against your husband's terrible choices in names." Tyene giggled, scooping up the puppy and leaving you alone in the kitchen.

×××

Matt rested the side of his face on the table, "Can I just adopt you both so I can eat like this every day?"

"Sure. And you can move in and sleep in the spare bedroom right next to ours. You will love that. Right when you're little baby ass is so close to dreamland." Ramsay smirked.

Your cheeks warmed.

Matt snorted.

"Don't believe me, kid? I am a sex god."

Tyene caught your eye and you looked away quickly, embarrassment swallowing you as you stared at your hands in your lap.

"Boss, don't mean to interrupt your bragging, but we have a situation." Damon said, looking up from his phone. "Check your shit."

Ramsay pat himself down, casting around for his phone.

"Couch, dear." You said, frowning as the atmosphere in the room turned from cozy and happy to tense and on edge.

Ramsay left the kitchen in a hurry. You could hear him cursing in the other room.

He returned to the kitchen, lighting a cigarette and pulling his coat on.

"Let's go then, Boys. Looks like we're playing cop detail." Ramsay mumbled through his cigarette.

Matt, Damon, and Alyn rose from the table.

"Ben and Yellow Dick will meet us at the shop."

You frowned, watching the men scramble around to grab up coats and guns.

Ramsay placed a kiss to the top of your head, "I'll be back as quickly as I can. I love you."

"You boys be careful. I love you too." You said, watching them leave.

"Wonder what's going on?" Tyene asked.

"I'll ask Charlotte. Damon always had the scanner on." You said pulling your phone from your pocket.

[You: hey, what's going on? The Boys just left here in a hurry?]

"You go sit down and relax. I'll clean up the kitchen. You busted your ass to make dinner. Now it's my turn." Tyene said.

You simply nodded, realizing how tired you were. You walked into the living room, curling up under your blanket on the couch. A cold, wet nose nudging your hand tucked under the throw pillow.

You grinned, grabbing the remote and pulling the puppy up on the couch with you. He made himself as small as possible to lay with you. You dreaded how big he was going to be, judging by the size of his feet.

You flipped through TV channels. Your phone vibrated.

[Charlotte: no idea. I'm working tonight. I'll see what I can find out and let you know.]

[You: thank you! Oh, we are having a boy, btw.]

[Charlotte: awe! I'll be by tomorrow and you can tell me all about it. But give me about 20 to see if I can find out what's going on.]

You set your phone back down, scratching the puppy between the ears and closing your eyes.

After lying still for awhile you could feel the fluttering movements in your stomach.

My son. You thought with a small, sad smile, resting your hand on your belly.

"Uh... (y/n)?" Tyene's voice said from far away.

"Hm?" You hummed, opening your blearily eyes a bit

"TV."

You blinked a few times and glanced over at the TV. You must of fallen asleep as the ten o'clock news was on.

It took you a moment to realize what you were looking at. But when it hit you, you couldn't help but make a noise in your throat, sitting up straight, scaring the puppy who yelped loudly.

The police station. Burning to the ground.

"Hold on folks... we are getting reports that Robb Stark, Ned Stark's son, has just been shot... oh... And his... oh god. Excuse us while we cut to a quick break. Stay tuned for more breaking news..." The news reporter was saying, his face pale and upset, pushing the earphone further in his ear to listen better.

You glanced over at Tyene and frantically felt around for your phone.

"Take the pup out back please." You said, finally closing your fingers around your phone.

2 new texts.

[Charlotte: not 100 on what's going on, but the Boys are safe. They are there as a bumper for whatever is going on. Not directly involved.]

[Rams: do not worry.]

You frowned, looking back at the TV, wishing the stupid truck commercial would hurry up and be over so you could find out exactly what was going on.

You sat on the edge of the couch, eyes glued to the TV.

Robb Stark dead. His poor girlfriend, dead. Doctor Cat, also dead. All three murdered in cold blood. According to the sources, the poor older woman watched her son and his woman die before she was finally killed.

Would that happen to You? Would you watch your husband die before the cold metal was turned on you?

What about the other Starks? Did Sansa know? What about your little street racer? Then there were the two youngest. Both boys. You knew nothing about them.

Where the fuck was Ramsay? Did he set the blaze to the police station? Who killed the Starks?

What a very weird, unsettling day. Seemed to be setting the mood for what was to come.

[justalonelyslytherin]

My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | five

previous chapter | Masterlist | next chapter

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

Summary: After the girl's stay is settled - for now, it is time to plan some of their vacation time. For the first time in their life, they can lean back and enjoy a vacation. They will need some necessities though. Clothes for example

Warnings: slight mention of parental loss

Wordcount: 3k

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. This story took an unplanned break, mostly to be blamed on my university life. I'm more than happy to return to this story and its characters and hope you'll be as excited to dip back into the story with me.

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

“I’m not sure if I find what you did genius or outright stupid.” Natasha looked at her with narrowed eyes. The words carried a heavy judgment cloaked behind feigned indifference.

“Your plan was so risky.”

“What plan?” Yelena’s words were met with another – mocking – rebuttal of the redhead. A clear display of disdain. It was a challenge. One that was heightened through the brazen raise of her younger sister’s brow. 

“I’m doing this for you. So you can have the adventure you longed for,” Y/N told them, tense. Squaring her jaw, she glared at the two younger siblings. “All I have been doing is so you can have a piece of the freedom you so crave, to give you what you deserve.”

Her focus shifted to Yelena alone, “But in case you haven’t noticed, we aren’t at home where we are well protected. We are in a lot of potential danger here. Taking it lightly and ignoring what could happen is not the way to go. Carelessness is nothing we can afford.” 

Yelena pressed her lips to a tight line, the corners of her mouth pulling downwards. Silence spread over them. Uneasy, dense silence, as her words had reached a far deeper place in them. Each one turned to their own internal conflict and thoughts.

“What are we going to do then? What's our plan?” Natasha spoke up after a long bout, causing Y/N to sigh.

“Stay, for now. Try to come up with a way to get the car working. Leave before the end of the week.”

“And what if there is no way to get the car running again?” Yelena piped up. It conjured another bout of silence between the three of them. None the wiser. 

It was the question of a very real problem they could stumble into. Having the car stay in the cold for days surely wouldn’t enhance its viability. Without the car, their chances dropped drastically close to zero. Maybe they could try to steal their host's car, yet she would rather do anything than betray their kindness like that. 

It was Natasha who spoke up, offering a different solution. “Then we give up our location.” Two pairs of eyes turned towards the redhead, confusion shining in them, neither knowing what she was insinuating.

“What do you mean?”

“The car. You didn’t think he gave us a regular one, did you? It’s an official state car.” Natasha leaned forward on her knees, a smile pulling at her lips as her eyes twinkled, “Made to blend in with civilian ones, bulletproof but more importantly equipped with a GPS tracker.”

“How do you know that?” 

The redhead shrugged, even as her older sister looked at her warily. She had a distinct feeling that her sister would not give her an answer, no matter how much she kept poking. Perhaps it was best she didn’t know. Her sister had her mysterious ways to obtain information and it was best it stayed that way.

Revealing their location to their keepers and guards was a possibility but one they had to consider carefully. They’d have to do a lot of explaining in that case. At the same time it was reassuring to know, should they fail, there was another failsafe solution.

“How is the GPS tracker going to help us?” Yelena wanted to know crossing her arms.

“It has a button to send out a distress signal–”

“No.” She interrupted immediately. “Not a chance. We are not going to do that.”

“What why?” Both younger sisters looked at her in shock, Yelena seemed to contemplate if she had actually lost her mind.

“Because we do not want to create a political conflict! How will it look if we send a distress signal from outside of Sokovia’s borders?” No, they couldn’t do that. It would create a war with both sides believing the other to have started it with an act of aggression. But that also meant their failsafe option wasn’t so failsafe anymore. In fact, it wasn’t an option anymore. “We have to get the car going.”

Simultaneously they released a heavy sigh as Yelena slumped backward. She turned her head towards the ceiling and grumbled under her breath. “... aren’t mechanics…” Natasha seemed to be less defeated, still trying to be optimistic and even more so trying to work with what they had.

"Alright. Assuming we get the car going again. How are you planning to tell the boys we won’t be accepting the offer to travel with them? They think we are refugees.”

“Where’d they even take that conclusion from?” Yelena butted in, looking back down.

“Oh you know because ‘the future heir of our bordering enemy country and her two sisters trying to have a vacation’ is the most logical conclusion if you ran into three lost girls in the woods by night.” Natasha snipped with a roll of her eyes.

“Hey!” The redhead and the blonde looked at her, both pressing their lips together as they at least tried to look apologetic. “Fighting between each other is the last thing we should do right now.

It’s really not that far-fetched for them to have come to this conclusion. We were secretive and reserved, I bet we looked pretty spooked to them. Stranded, lost, wandering around.

Remember everything we were told about Brooklyn? I am now convinced that most of it was blatant lies and if we got dished up lies, who’s to say they weren’t fed an equal amount of bullshit about Widovia?”

It was entirely feasible for their views to have been clouded by lies. Who wouldn’t try to make their enemies look worse? There was no blame to be held. She’d been told those lies, she’d believed those lies just as Steve and his friends had believed the things they’d been told. How could you know a lie was a lie if it was the only thing you were ever told? How was a bird to know there was life outside the cage it was born in if it had never left the cage?

“As for that,” she replied with a heavy sigh, “We’ll have to lie to them I fear. Say we want to stay here in the village.” She felt crushed thinking about the inevitable lie that would have to roll over her lips. 

Something in the deepest parts of her heart screamed and rebelled just thinking about being untruthful to Steve. There was the duty she had to her sisters and her home, it demanded certain deeds be done. Yet it couldn’t lift the dreadful feeling.

“We still have some time until then.” Natasha spoke, the softest she had spoken in a while, as she looked at her big sister. It brought a smile to Y/N’s otherwise weary, tired lips. 

For the first time since waking up, she felt lighter and not worried. Those feelings of weightlessness transcended her sisters, and soon they fell into a relaxed and animated talk about unimportant things.

For the first time since arriving here, it felt like somewhat of a vacation. The feeling didn’t wane as the boys came walking out of the kitchen. They’d shooed the girls out after breakfast, denying any help to tidy up the kitchen. 

Sam and Bucky’s shirts were marked with countless wet spots. It looked like they had fought a battle instead of doing the dishes. The suds clinging to Sam’s jaw emphasized this observation once more. A smile crept across her lips as she saw the damp strands of blonde hair hang over Steve’s forehead, suds and bubbles clinging to the tufts. It was blatant that he had been caught in the crossfire or partaken, perhaps even instigated it, judging by the sly smile creeping onto his lips after she crooked her head in question.

The early morning talk during breakfast had cleared up any ill feelings or off vibes, yet it still surprised her as the three men spread out in between them, taking their seats on the couches. Steve sank down into the spot beside her, his weight curving the cushions down. Gravity pulled her towards him, their legs and shoulders touching as she was pressed to his side. Bucky and Sam suited themselves beside her sisters, which especially in Bucky’s case felt weird to see. The brunette and the redhead eyed each other from the corners of their eyes, briefly nodding before they turned back front and tried to stay as casual as possible. Observing made her snort quietly, it felt somewhat awkward and shy, something she couldn’t say she had ever seen Natasha be.

“You didn’t flood anything, did you?” Yelena spoke up, eyeing the wet spots on their clothes with amusement and mocking. “I didn’t pack any Bikinis.” 

It caused them all to laugh. To properly laugh. The mixture of voices made her heart beat faster, happier. And as she watched Sam and Bucky interact with her sisters, she understood what Steve had said to her about his friends the night before. 

“Rest assured the kitchen is dry. You won’t get wet unless you decide to go swimming in the lake outside.” 

Bucky scoffed at that, “You’d have to break the ice before.” 

“Don’t make it sound like that’s such a challenge.” 

“That ice is thick enough to skate and play hockey on, bird brain. I’d like to see you try to break it.”

“You can’t play hockey on ice.” Yelena muttered, looking at the bickering males in confusion. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips pulled down. It was her characteristic pout, a face she had only ever seen her younger sister pull with Natasha or her. 

"Yes, you can.” Sam argued against it, pausing to eye her thoughtfully. “Don’t tell me you have never witnessed ice hockey.”

“Well, I haven’t. It sounds fake.” The indignation and sureness in Yelena’s voice amused her, but what made her crack was Sam and Bucky’s dumbfounded looks. They’d obviously hadn’t reckoned for Yelena to be serious. 

She wasn’t the only one highly amused at this, as Steve let out a snort. Quickly he tucked his chin towards his chest, hiding his face. His shaking shoulders betrayed him.

Sam and Bucky jumped into a scandalized, in-depth explanation of ice hockey, supported by dramatically frantic hand gestures, yet all she could focus on was Steve beside her, still chuckling to himself in glee.

“Is your sister always so straightforward?” 

“Oh, you haven’t experienced half of it. This is only the tip of the iceberg. She’s unforgivingly blunt.”

“Seems like she is quite the firecracker.”

“She is. She definitely is.” 

Together they glanced at the scene unfolding on the opposite couch. It was a funny sight, seeing Sam and Bucky so determined to convince Yelena of the sport. 

“But have you ice skated before? Do you know what skates are? You know shoes that look like they have knives strapped to their bottom?” Sam lifted his foot and mimicked what was supposed to be the blades a skate possessed. Yelena scoffed in revolt.

“Yes I have, I didn’t grow up under a rock! We have ice skating in Widovia, you dumbass.”

“Ice skating is a national sport.” Natasha piped in to stop Yelena from getting worked up even more. “Every child knows how to skate.” “So you can skate?” Bucky asked to confirm, a teasing lilt to his words. Yelena and Natasha nodded in unison.

“There is no one better at ice skating than Nat.” “Now that I’d like to see. No one has been able to best Bucky before.” A rumbling went through the crowd at Sam's contest. Steve let out a long ‘ohhh~’ beside her, causing her to glance at him. The silliness of the situation made her smile. For the first time, she saw Bucky grin widely. It had a wicked nuance to it, haughty and blinding as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“There is only one way to find out,” he drawled, more or less challenging.

“I hope you are ready to land on your ass,” the redhead told him, smirking and cocking a brow at him. Another wave of ‘oohs’ sounded

“I don’t think we have any skates in the lodge.” Steve noted, drawing the attention towards him. Four pairs of eyes landed not only on him but also on her. Some were more subtle than others in the way they eyed the close proximity between the two. The sly grin blossoming on Natasha’s lips told her she wouldn’t hear the end of her teasing. “There might be a pair or two from when we were kids, don’t think they’ll fit anymore.”

“Yelena has tiny feet, I bet we could get her shoved into a pair.” The youngest of the three sisters shot her a dirty glare, underlined with a pout. It made her snicker.

“We can surely rent some from the ice rink in town.” Sam noted.

“You’ll also need some other clothes. Something warmer and thicker,” Bucky noted, eyeing the girls. Their clothes - while still wintery - were not made to stay outside for longer periods of time. Neither were they suited to keep them dry. Even if, they couldn’t keep wearing the same things for the rest of the week. 

Empty and quiet lay the room, shrouded in mostly darkness. From the carpeted wooden hallway just outside the drag of steps drawing closer could be heard. The shadow of a pair of feet appeared below the crack of the door, the even mix of voices however pointed to more than one person.

The key being inserted into the lock sounded of a metallic nature, reminiscent of the old brass keys used in castles and historic buildings dating centuries back, it wasn’t much younger than any of those, so it was fitting. With 3 resounding clicks as the key turned the mechanism inside, the lock gave way. The bronze handle moaned in complaint to operate after many years of neglect. A beam of light pushed its way through the larger growing slit of the door opening. Particles of dust danced in the brightness.

Then, a loud sneeze.

“Bless you,” Yelena chimed in from further back in the hallway, largely unbothered by the thick layer of dust that had been disrupted. Steve, at the front of the crowd and the one to have opened the door, wasn’t as lucky. He rubbed at the underside of his nose with the knuckle of his pointer, sniffling and squinting into the room. “It’s, ugh, a bit dusty,” he mumbled the obvious.

“When’s the last time anyone was in there?” Bucky asked, leaning against the wall just by the door, peering over Steve’s shoulder at the room full of treasures. Treasures, not in worth but in memory.

There came no answer from Steve. He couldn’t say but he knew it was too long. Glancing back at Bucky, no words had to be said for the Brunette to understand. They hadn’t been back here since he’d lost his mother. 

Sam eyed the pair of them, he could feel their hesitancy to take the necessary step forward. Sentiment and memories, feelings not yet felt fully held them back. So he made the step for them. He rounded Steve, setting the first foot into the room. And then another one. And another one after that, until he reached the window at the far back of the room, between shelves, drawers, and other things. The handle of the window creaked as much as the door had, yowling under the sudden movement, protesting in a not-so-silent plea.

At once unfiltered sunlight streaked into the room. The light greedily stretched out until it illuminated every speck and nook it could reach. Crisp, fresh air followed, pouring in much slower but steadily it swapped out the stale air.

“Gotta give whatever we find in here a good wash first,” Sam said, standing in the middle and turning in all directions to examine the many things stored away.

“It’s not like there isn’t a perfectly fine washing machine just downstairs.” It was Bucky then that set foot into the room, eyeing the shelves with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Steve, who still stood at the door, turned towards the three girls in the hallway. They had followed but taking a polite distance. 

His nod was what let Natasha and Yelena trickle into the room as well. Only she remained, examining the blonde closely. It hadn’t been his good manners that prompted Steve to yield, to let them enter first, it was the hesitancy to step into the room that glued him to his spot. One hand resting on the frame of the door, it seemed to have a mind of its own clutching the wooden work.

She reached out to him, her fingers barely brushing the fabric of his sweater on his back, when his eyes snapped to her. Clouded in emotions, he looked startled for a split second before he hung his head, smiling defeated and bashfully.

“It’s just a room.”

“Just a room,” she agreed with a hum. 

Steve looked up at her in surprise. He hadn’t anticipated having her confirm his words, no less to have her sound so familiar with them. The hesitancy in him she’d recognize anywhere. It wasn’t hard to spy something she was so familiar with. Akin to what she had felt many times before. 

Steve’s hand slowly loosened, pulling away from the door frame. He turned towards the door, shoulders bracing, and taking a deep breath. In his moment of preparation, his search for readiness, his hand once again evolved a life on its own. 

Butterflies started to bloom in her stomach as Steve’s fingers brushed against hers. It was a faint touch, barely there and over as fast as it had happened. Those blue eyes of his glanced back at her, clear-headed once more.

“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. 

[justalonelyslytherin]

My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | two

previous chapter | Masterlist | next chapter

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

Summary: Revealing where the girls come from couldn't become a problem could it? Even less of a misconception. Right?

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 3.6k

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

A/N: Both chapter 1 and this one were rather plot/introduction heavy and I know that isn't for everyone. It was necessary to set the world & story up, ok. From chapter 3 onward, we'll be focusing on Steve & Y/N slowly falling in love. I promise. I want to give a shout-out and big thanks to @imaginedreamwrite who helped me work out some troubles I had at the end of the chapter. You are awesome <3 The lovely red dividers are from @/firefly-graphics, go check her blog out.

Taglist: open, will be tagged in the comments, let me know if you want to be added

“There you go,” Steve said, holding out a thick and warm blanket in his hands. 

“Thank you,” she answered, reaching out to take the blanket from him, when he moved.

“Let me,” he mumbled and draped the blanket over her shoulders, its added warmth surrounded her. The heaviness of the dense but soft wool was soothing. A cocoon of comfort that helped quench the uneasy feeling residing in the pit of her stomach. 

Steve’s offer had come to be their saving. Half frozen, they’d wandered through the forest for hours, dread overtaking them the further the sun set. The welcoming and generous blonde with his grumpy friends and the warm cabin they were staying at had been their salvation.

Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling it would turn bad. She’d feared they would turn hostile if they knew who they had truly invited into their home. Yelena had almost revealed the secret a couple of times. Her youngest sister had a bad habit of speaking before thinking, too open for her own good. 

Right now she was occupied sitting in front of the warm fireplace, holding her hands close to the flames to warm the frozen digits. Natasha sat just behind her in one of the armchairs, keeping watchful eyes over the youngest of them. 

Not long did Y/N’s eyes stay on her two sisters. Looming in the doorway and in one corner of the big and open room were Steve’s two friends. Ever since the invitation, they had been broody and quiet and if they had spoken up they’d been short and curt. She couldn’t shake the feeling they weren’t truly welcome here. It was when Bucky stepped forward and crossed the room to take a seat on the couch just opposite them that the unease started to overwhelm her once more.

“So who are you?” He asked them bluntly. “We already introduced ourselves, didn’t we?” Natasha’s answer was almost as blunt and not any less stoic.

“Wrong. You told us your names but nothing more.” 

“Bucky,” Steve glared at his friend as he sat down on the same couch. Instead of putting the most possible distance between him and them, Steve sat on the point closest to Y/N.

“What Bucky is trying to say is, we are a little confused about who you are and where you came from.” She could tell that Steve tried to mediate. He was equally as curious as his friends. His curiosity was barely hidden behind his warm and welcoming eyes, whereas they concealed it behind sobriety and hardened, cold eyes.

“Let’s be frank and put the cards on the table.” Sam added from the doorframe, “This is the last town before the border from the direction you were coming from, which means you had to have come from there or even beyond. ”

A thick lump had formed in the back of her throat, making it hard for her to swallow. Or maybe it was her heart beating so strongly that it had jumped into her throat, making it nearly impossible for her to swallow. It had only been a matter of time for that question to come up and while she had known it would come, she had dreaded it no less strongly. 

Glancing up, Steve’s eyes were focused solely on her. The curiosity in his eyes was thinly veiled, more so now than before. It was only shadowed by the absolute openness and warmth he exuded. A warmth that took the hesitation out of her and instead replaced it with the courage to answer him. In her stomach, a tingling, warm sensation blossomed. She found herself wanting to open up to him.

“You are right.'' Steve's eyes widened in surprise. From him she turned to look towards Sam, “We were coming from Sokovia.” 

The empty landscape passed by the car. Nothing but fields, trees, and hills around them. They’d left behind the last point of civilization miles ago and exchanged it for no-man’s-land. Most people would have felt unsettled by the lacking signs of humanity. Not them. Not when it felt like freedom to drive around with no true destination. Not when for the first time they were able to choose on their own where to go and where to stop.

Y/n glanced over at her sister in the driver's seat. Natasha had never looked more relaxed and at ease than behind the steering wheel now. Her sister was a put-together person, always calculating and listening to everything around her. There was nothing Natasha wasn’t aware of, nothing that slipped past here, and in return, she’d always kept her guard up. Every step was calculated, every reaction of everyone around her something to analyze. Sometimes she wondered if her sister ever truly rested or if even in her room she stayed aware, never just being and letting things happen on their own.

“Hey, what if we drive to Brooklyn?” Yelena had leaned forward in her seat, scooted to the edge of it no less, her elbows digging into the headrests of the two front seats. 

“Are you crazy?” Natasha countered the question with another, rhetorical, one.

“Why would you want to go there anyway? There’s nothing over there besides wastelands and despair. Haven’t you listened when they taught us about it in history class? How that country is nothing more than a barren and broken ruin anymore–”

“– devastated by the financial ruin of their greedy King, blundered by his dark and dangerous knights that won’t hold back even against their own countrymen, women, and children’? Jeez, Nat, when did you swallow the fairytales of that old geezer?” 

“The old fart talks a lot of rubbish but that doesn’t mean that all of his words hold no truth,” Y/N interfered, sensing the approaching argument between her younger siblings. Yelena’s proposition certainly was exciting. That didn’t mean it wasn’t also dangerous if not right out foolish.

“Oh please. Can’t we drive close to the border? I just want to see it! We wanted to go on an adventure, didn’t we?”

With a sigh, Y/N leaned her head back. She was right. They’d wanted to go on an adventure. When she glanced over at Natasha, the redhead was already looking at her. As they looked at each other grins slowly formed on their faces, a giddy feeling rising below the surface.

“Let’s do it then.”

And so they continued to drive towards the mountains, through winding roads with endless serpentines and the most breathtaking views. It was one mountain range separating everything new and exciting from their home and everything they’d ever known.

“Hey isn’t that the great lake?” Yelena yelled as the road curled around the side of one mountain. Before them the landscape opened up from gray rock and evergreen conifers, to reveal a short valley dotted in shadows and light as the sun came between the mountains. Just behind a great lake with crystalline, azure blue water stretched out from one side of the mountains to the other, reaching seemingly infinite. 

Y/N felt awe upon the sight, the sheer vastness had her sitting up in her seat. The beauty took her breath away. She had heard many things about the great lake and seen pictures just as paintings. Nothing could compare to actually seeing it. The water sparkled and rippled in the sun, even from way up. The pool of water was so clear a portion of its surface turned into a giant natural mirror, reflecting the snow peaked mountains curling around its edges. From their position out, high up, they could see as far as the opposite edge of the lake, spying the lands of Brooklyn behind. 

It didn’t look like a particular wasteland to her, she thought as her eyes were focused on the land beyond. It was beautiful in fact, the mountains dusted with snow and the valley between them so long it vanished beyond the horizon.

“Can we get closer?” Yelena whispered in awe.

“There should be a road branching off in a bit that leads closer so we can drive directly by the lake.” 

There was no question of do or don’t after Natasha informed them of this. But when they arrived at the junction there was no sign. Or rather there was none anymore, as it lay beside the road, bent and clearly run over.

“Can you tell which way is which?” Natasha asked her. The sign was still anchored in the bottom, in theory, it should still display the correct way. 

Briefly unbuckling her seatbelt, she leaned out of the window and squinted at the sign. It consisted of two arrows pointing in different directions, one straight ahead to follow the street further curling around the mountain and one to the left, forking away and up. One way was leading across the border and over to Brooklyn, the other one to the edge of the Lake. 

“Y/N?” Natasha asked once more, impatience bleeding into her voice as they were standing in the middle of the road.

“Uhm, go ahead, not left.” 

Her decision was made on pure gut feeling. Something deep down told her to drive ahead, pulled her in that direction. And so they went that way, coming closer to the lake until finally, they drove to its edge.

“Wait. Didn’t we come from those mountains?” Y/N asked, pointing to the other side of the lake, where the mountain range was much more drastic. Big mountains stuck up toward the sky, some of the peaks ripping up the clouds around them while others entirely vanished with no apparent end beyond the clouds. The side they were driving on was full of mountains too, yet those were calmer and softer, streaked by extensive patches of forest.

“No, that can’t be.” 

But it could be. All three of them watched in anticipation as a sign on the side of the road kept approaching. ‘Kingdom of Brooklyn’ it read. Stunned silence encompassed the car, the sign passed them by in the blink of an eye.

“Let’s turn around,” Natasha suggested instantaneously as the car slowed to a walking pace. 

“NO! Why should we? We can have a trip here as much as we can back home. Didn’t we want to go on an adventure? This is an adventure! What more could you ask for?” Yelena protested loudly.

“Are you crazy? We are in enemy territory! What if they find out who we are?”

“How should they? No one knows us here. Come on, please~” 

Natasha’s grip on the steering wheel turned deadly. Her knuckles paled as she pressed her lips in a thin line. Y/N knew that look too well.

“You decide,” Natasha told her, glancing at her older sister. Loudly she sighed and leaned her head back. She didn’t want to turn back around. It was beautiful here and it looked nothing like the descriptions they heard.

Which led her to wonder what else they’d been told to be the truth but turned out to be nothing but lies. On the other hand loomed the danger they were exposing themselves to. She glanced back at Yelena through the rear-view mirror. Her sister looked so hopeful and excited. Y/N had never seen Yelena like that. They'd never gotten the opportunity to do something like this and she would likely never get another. So with a rapidly beating heart, she made her decision.

“Let’s continue driving. We can stay the night and then drive back tomorrow.”

“Yes!” 

“What’s going on?” She asked, sitting up as the car slowed down and made a weird noise.

“I don’t know,” Natasha told her, pressing her foot harder on the gas pedal but nothing happened.

“Nat.” She became more serious as the lights in front of the car started to flicker, shortly before the engine died with a pathetic splutter. They rolled to a silent stop at the side of a long and winding street in the middle of a dense forest.

“Come on,” Natasha muttered, twisting the key in the car to restart the engine. It rattled for a moment, spluttering and coughing before it died again. It didn’t stir the second time at all. “What does that mean?” Y/N pointed at the red, blinking light on the display behind the steering wheel. It looked like a small canister of some sort with a hose.

“Don’t cars run on something? Gas or Fuel?” Yelena asked as she leaned forward in between the driver's and passenger's seats.

“They do?” 

“Yep,” Yelena nodded. “And it looks like we just ran out of it.”

“Shit.” Y/N screwed her eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when they were in the middle of nowhere. They’d been driving for hours

“I saw a sign some time ago mentioning a town. If we keep walking along the road we should reach it.”

“You are from Sokovia?” 

She shook her head, “We are from Widovia.”

Steve’s eyes - widened in curiosity - now dilated further in surprise, perhaps even shock. She could see emotions and thoughts pass by in intervals of mere seconds, flitting past his eyes.

The three men that had offered their home up were speechless. Had it not been for the continuous cracking of the fireplace and the accompanying flickering of the flames, she’d have believed time to be frozen.

“Shit,” Bucky murmured and leaned back on the couch. He stretched his arms over his head, rubbing his flat palm over his hair.

“And you just left there with nothing on you? No phone, no wallet?” Sam asked. The shock had waned and he was back to questioning them in a serious manner.

“There wasn’t exactly time to prepare or gather our things. We had only a small window of time,” Yelena butted in, sounding rather annoyed. Her words were matter-of-factly and so dry as she looked at them with a glint in her eyes that was challenging them to challenge their words further.

Instead of prodding further, Sam snapped his mouth shut and furrowed his brows. And neither Bucky seemed to have another question for them. It was Steve who spoke up next and who presented his question. One that was neither prodding in nature nor accusing. Instead, he asked, “Are you okay?”, and reached a hand out to her. 

Only after she didn’t flinch did he lean towards her and dropped his hand to her knee. It was big and warm and caused another tingling sensation to rise up in her. Full of compassion were his eyes, and concern just as comfort too. His openness and the care he displayed for her, just a stranger to him, warmed her heart. He didn’t know her and her sister and yet, when he had seen them in need of help, he hadn’t hesitated. Instead, Steve had gone against his friends and stood his ground.

“Yeah.” Without wanting to, her voice shook, overwhelmed by the way he made her feel.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Deep wrinkles drew across his forehead as he stared into the flames.

“You are sorry?” Natasha asked him with a raised eyebrow. The surprise in her voice was mutual with what she felt.

“I was nothing but a heartless jerk because I thought you were dangerous.” With a groan, he drew his hand over his face.

“We kinda assumed you were spies or assassins,” Sam added, causing Bucky to grunt once more. It had the three girls chuckle amusedly.

“I wish we were. That would be so cool!” Yelena groaned dramatically as she fell back against the backrest of the couch.

“Assassins?” Y/N asked, her lips twitching upwards in a smile. She glanced back at Steve and raised her brow in question. His answer was a lopsided grin on his own as he shrugged his shoulders. 

“These idiots are as paranoid as they are protective of me.”

“Yeah well we have to save your ass on a regular basis since you love getting yourself in trouble,” Bucky barked, a smile tugging on his face too. The first non-stoic or serious expression she had seen from him. It made the brick that had been sitting uncomfortably in her stomach somewhat lighter. 

“Anyways…Didn’t think you’d turn out to be refugees instead.” 

Refugees? Y/N glanced at Natasha, who was already looking back at her. The boys thought they had fled from Widovia? Thinking about it, it did make sense that they didn’t have anything on them that bound them to their ‘old life’. In reality, it couldn’t have been further from the truth. Y/N hated lying to them, but they couldn’t tell the truth, could they? It was safer and far wiser to let them assume they had flown.

A loud yawn sounding from the other end of the room caught Y/N off guard. Her eyes flitted over to her youngest sister. Just as Yelena had made her exhaustion known loudly, Natasha and she felt it too. It sat boned deep, far deeper than the chill that had thawed the longer they sat before the warm fire. Steve’s hand, still remaining on her knee, was so warm she’d felt it to her core.

She couldn’t put a number on the length of their travel, it must have taken them the better part of the day to cross the border and get stranded in the middle of a snowy road, even before they had spent hours walking along the road, tracking through the woods until the sun had set.

“I think it’s time to go to bed,” Steve announced. “Any other questions, should you be willing to answer them, can wait ‘till the morning.” With that, he withdrew his hand from her knee and stood up. His warmth left behind a spot of coldness that made her crave to be touched once more.

Slowly they all shuffled out of the living room. The cabin was big, she had noticed already. Much too big for only three people, and certainly way too expensive to pay for by them alone too. Maybe they had rented it from someone? Or was it a family possession? She’d been mesmerized by its grandeur from the first moment she had seen it. It was cozy and deluxe, nothing she had expected to see in Brooklyn. 

In the middle of the first floor sat a big wooden staircase leading up to a landing and the rooms of the second floor. A hallway each led behind the stairs on the left and the right, meeting behind it in a small, quadratic room. Its ceiling was modeled into a beautiful cross vault, which reminded her of the stone hallways at home. Steve led them down the left hallway, which continued after the small room even further into the house.

“You can choose any room you’d like,” he told them with a smile as he pointed to the many doors. “Bucky, Sam, and I are sleeping upstairs. Feel free to come look for one of us if something should be.” 

The glare Bucky sent the blonde over his shoulder made her lips tuck upward. He hadn’t been lying when he said they were protective of him. She found it sweet how much they looked out for their friend. It reminded her a lot of Natasha and her. She’d protect her sister just the same way if she had to.

“I doubt it will be needed, we appreciate it though,” Natasha told Steve with a nod, as Yelena was too busy eyeing the different doors. 

“Well, good night then.” A chorus of ‘good nights’ followed after, with the boys turning around to head down the hallway. Y/n turned to her sisters, smiling at them.

“Let’s go to bed. We’ll talk about what we’ll do tomorrow.” There was still a lot they had to talk about, but for now, she didn’t want to think of all of that. She was too tired for it.

“You want the first pick?” Yelena asked her, whipping on her feet.

“No, you too can pick first.” Yelena didn’t need another go, she turned around before the last word had even left her lips and sprinted to a door further down the hall. Natasha huffed amusedly and chose the first door to the right of her. And she? 

She turned back around and glanced at the retreating form of Steve. Grateful didn’t even convey all she felt. In a split second decision, made from solely her instinct, she jogged after him, rather than going into the room he had used as an example to show them the bedrooms. Quietly she called out his name, causing him to slow but not halt. Only when she grasped the sleeve of his arm, did he stop and turn around to her. Back was the boyish and cute curiosity on his face and the sparkle in his eyes. 

In her mind her decision had been a good one but now, standing there with him, she suddenly didn’t know what she wanted or should do. Her lip took the brunt of it, teeth nibbling on the bottom one. Thank you,” she whispered.

“For Everything.”

Curiosity yielded to surprise. Quietly he stood before her, stunned, with his eyes flitting over the plains of her face. Steve was a handsome guy, the soft smile he shared with her only amplified this. Or maybe it only did in her mind. 

“Of course.” The velvet smooth rumble of his voice, so low and full of warmth and a hint of something she couldn’t pinpoint, set fire to her cheeks. Speechless beyond control the only thing left for her to act was nod. 

They stared at each other in comfortable silence, for a few seconds that well could have been minutes or even eternity. “Good night,” she murmured, slowly shifting and turning around. Steve looked after her, rooted to his spot in the hallway. His heart was beating a rapid melody in his chest. “Good Night Y/N,” he whispered after her.

[justalonelyslytherin]

My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | four

previous chapter | Masterlist | next chapter

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

Summary: Plans change once again over breakfast. As they approach a solution that everyone can agree with, the girls learn a little something about their hosts.

Warnings: mentions of loss of parents/parental death

Wordcount: 4.2k

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 dividers are made by @/firefly-graphics

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

Pressure shifted and stretched the wooden floorboards, creeks elicited like soft groans as each one bore the weight of her sleep-addled and heavy steps. It was morning, whether early or late she couldn’t tell. Going by the feel and atmosphere it felt like early morning, the air fresh and still crisp from the night yet everything else for the latter. The sun peeking over the tops of the trees caused every little flake of snow to shine and shimmer like a sea of thousands upon thousands of diamonds.

As she rounded the corner under the staircase, spilling into the main living room, two familiar faces awaited her. Her sisters were sitting on the couches to the right in front of the - freshly lit - fireplace. Tendrils of fire lapped and curled around the logs of wood, a fine billow of smoke danced above it as the embers glowed brightly in the deepest parts of the fire. The crackling of the fire was overshadowed by the loud munching of her youngest sister. The young girl chewed loudly on whatever she had gotten her hands on while Natasha sat beside her with a steaming cup in her hand.

Notes of bitterness, the distinct smell of ground coffee, mixed into the overall headiness of the acrid smoky tones of the fire and the tangy smell of the tree sap from the burning logs. Natasha was never to be seen without a cup of coffee in the mornings. Sometimes she wondered how her sister had survived in their childhood before she had ever tasted her first drop of the bitter brew. 

They were both silently sitting there, sipping and munching on as she slowly approached them. It was eerily. Their eyes were locked on the staircase, barely noticing her at all and certainly not acknowledging it even as she stood directly in front of them. Following their eye line there was nothing to see. Nothing out of the ordinary at least. 

It was a magnificent and humbling view, this imposing and grand living room with the looming staircase. Perhaps its effect - now in the broadened light - had caused this, even if she found that it had been just as great a sight in the dark evening of yesterday. 

In the end, she concluded it couldn’t be an interest in either architecture or interior design her sisters had developed over the course of the night. Only when she turned to face them again, picked her ears up a different clue. Clattering sounds and some quieter mutters traveled into the great hall, coming from no other place than the kitchen that lay on the other side of the staircase.

“Is something going on?” She asked them. Yelena hummed, shoving another handful of flaky, cracker-y, orange squares into her mouth. The packet she held clutched to her chest said Cheez its, whatever that was.

“They are arguing,” Natasha told her dryly, taking another sip from her mug. 

“About us?” Patting over, mindful for her feet to not get caught on the carpet, she plopped down onto the soft cushion beside them.

“Yes,” Natasha answered just as honestly once more, causing her older sister to sigh.

“Blondie–”

“–His name is Steve,” she scolded Yelena. The younger one grinned at her, eyes sparkling. “They are letting us stay here, you could at least have enough courtesy to call him by his name instead of giving him ridiculous and mean names.” 

It was the same spiel every time. Yelena rolled her eyes and pouted at her sister. The only difference now was that the glare Y/N shot her was enough to silence the whine that usually accompanied it. You are not our etiquette teacher, why do you have to be just as stiff about protocols and rules? 

She wasn’t. Not truly anyway. But between the youngest sister and the oldest, there was a difference in duty and expectation Yelena couldn’t understand. She was the overlooked sibling when it came to the line of succession. While all the weight was dumped onto the heir's shoulders, Yelena could frolic around. She had the opportunity to make mistakes and not take everything so seriously while Y/N had to overthink every step, look and word she uttered. Everything could be used against her.

“Steve apparently doesn’t think it’s a good idea to drop us off in the town. Since we’ve got no money to pay for a hotel room or literally anything else. Grumpy and Grumpier aren’t happy.” This time when she shot her sister another look it was in unison with Natasha raising her eyebrow.

“What?” Yelena shrugged, “They started murmuring and bickering when we were still in the kitchen. 

Peculiar that was, at least for her. She did share Steve’s sentiment. It brought her back to all the unanswered questions she’d pushed away from her thoughts the previous evening. Now she’d run out of time. There wasn’t any chance to postpone it any longer, she had to confront them. 

They had nothing on them. No wallet, no phone, not even a piece of identification. Perhaps the last one was better that way. Their lack of finances however posed a serious problem. They couldn’t afford a hotel room, yes, but what they also couldn’t afford was any fuel for the car. 

The car. Would it still be at the side of the road? How were they even supposed to find the car? Even if they managed to obtain some fuel for it, how would they get it to the car and who said it would even work? Could cars freeze to death too?

“Breakfast is ready.” Sam leaned against the bottom post of the staircase, arms crossed in front of his chest, yet his voice was warm and inviting.

In the kitchen, an icy, tense atmosphere reigned. Bucky was grumbling, his dark stare focused on his steaming cup of coffee. It felt strange to enter, well aware of why this bad mood was swirling all around them. Her eyes sought out Steve, who was leaning with his back against the kitchen counter, arms bent and forearms bracing against the edge. Just to the side behind him, a pot peeked out of the sink. The pot they had made hot chocolate with during the night. 

Expertly Steve split the sweet, creamy brown liquid into two big mugs without even spilling a drop. A thin trickle tried to escape still, running down the side of the pot which he was quick to collect with his fingers. Both from the hot pot as well as from the warm liquid he hissed, quickly sticking his finger into his mouth. Both to lick the droplet away and to cool his now-burned finger. 

“Are you alright?”, she asked him in concern, brows knitted together as her eyes wouldn’t shift from the finger he still suckled on. Steve smiled at her from around it and nodded.

“Already better, see?” With that he released his finger, showing her the reddened tip. It caused her to smile, chuckle even, as she nodded.

“Want me to blow on it?” The words had left her lips before she had been able to properly think of their meaning. They’d hardly left her lips, yet it was already too late when it dawned on her. With terror in her eyes, she stared at him. 

Steve looked at her in surprise, lips parted. Time felt frozen, she didn’t dare to move or breathe at all. Only when Steve snorted, his lips pulling into a big grin, could she take a gulp of air again. His eyes glinted in mischief as he leaned forward, finger hovering before her lips now. And she? She huffed amusedly, eyes jumping between his and his finger before she softly blew out a small stream of air.

“Is that something you do with your sisters?” He asked her curiously.

“I used to. Yelena was a sensitive child and blowing on it was a magical solution for all her problems. It helped calm her down.” Thinking back on past times, she became nostalgic. “My mother used to do it with me…before she died.”

Steve’s happy expression was quickly replaced with one of compassion and perhaps a twinge of personal sorrow. “You don’t have…?” He trailed off as she nodded.

“They both died when Yelena was still a baby. I don’t think she even remembers them.

Sometimes even I have trouble remembering; what their voices sounded like, how they looked.”

Steve hummed as he braced his hip against the counter. “Bucky and Sam are my family. They are all that I have left.” 

Suddenly their behavior made a lot more sense to her. Not that she had been able to be upset or angered over their ways. How could she blame them for being protective of the blonde when she felt the exact same way about her sisters?

A rich aroma of nutty, cinnamony deliciousness unfurled in the kitchen. The sweet scent dispelled the heavy silence between them in a flash and pulled both their eyes toward the steaming mugs. Steve grabbed both around the rim. In his big hands, the mugs - who were bigger than the average mug she had seen - looked dwarfed. Easily he passed along one of them to her. 

The cup wasn’t hot, it was cozily warm as she wrapped both hands around its rotund body. Cradling the cup close to her, nose hovering over it, she inhaled deeply. The scent exploded in richness and tickled her nose. It enveloped her like a thick blanket of warmth, comfort, and sweetness, reminding her of the doting hug of a mother, the caressing embrace of a lover.

A smile broke out on her lips, one that ticked upwards as she crossed Steve’s fond expression. He eyed her curiously. A tingle of impatience radiated from him, an air of excitement as he awaited her judgment. His jaw jutted out minimally, nodding towards the mug and inviting her to a taste.

Careful not to burn her tongue she blew on the surface. The liquid rippled in small waves that reminded her of the calm tide she’d seen on the Great Lake as they had driven by. Just as its fragrance exploded the flavor across her tongue. Creamy was the liquid, plush in chocolaty heaven from the mix of milk and dark. As the taste melted on her tongue the hints of vanilla and cinnamon came through.

Loudly she hummed and closed her eyes once more. Her head leaned backward, nose pointing towards the ceiling. The warmth traveled into her belly and from there on spread throughout her.

“It’s delicious,” she gushed, a satisfied little smirk on her lips as she glanced over at Steve. The intensity with which he looked at her made her feel even hotter. His stare was strong but not menacing…just so deep. Boring into her soul. “Steve,” she murmured, snapping him out as his eyes jumped to cross with hers once more, “that’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Pride blossomed in his chest, it scorched through him to the tips of his fingers and toes and curled up his spine in a pleasant spark. She watched him preen under her words, like a cat reveling in pets.

“Y-yeah?” His voice cracked, much deeper than it had been just moments before. Happiness danced in his eyes. He tried to hide his grin behind the mug as he took a taste of his own. The slow rumble, akin to a soft groan, sounded absolutely sinful.

As they entered his eyes had sought her out just as she had him. His bright blue eyes met hers and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips as she glanced back at him from the pot.

While Steve’s smile was soft, his body told a different story. Outwardly he seemed relaxed in the way he leaned there, but his shoulders were square and tense. There was tightness in his muscles, strength coiled beneath them, ready to snap if needed.

“Hope you are hungry,” Sam said as he sought his way between them and walked over to the pans on the stove that sizzled on low heat. “I made pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast.” It was an overwhelming amount of food, and some she didn’t know exactly what it was. 

He started to fill multiple plates until each of them had one standing before them. Each plate for her sisters and her had a little bit of everything. The plates of the boys were stacked high and almost overflowing, at minimum double her portion. Bucky’s plate stood alone and untouched on the kitchen island, which now doubled as the dining table, even if there was an even bigger, perfectly fine one just beside it.

Steve glanced over at the brunette before he nodded toward his plate. “Sit and eat.” His stern voice surprised her. He sounded commandeering and dominant. It was the voice of authority and reminded her of the orders the Generals in the royal guard and military would speak. 

Bucky glared at the blonde, a recurring look. She wondered if it was perhaps his standard expression. He always looked so grumpy and glared at everyone. Only briefly had he softened his features during his apology the evening before. Steve had told her Bucky had a nice and friendly side too, you'd just have to crack down the walls he put up. She felt certain she would never see that happening.

The air continued to feel thick and tense, even as the sound of scraping cutlery set in. It weighed heavily on her mind, wouldn't let her go. Barely having touched her breakfast she set down knife and fork and looked over at the three men.

“I think we have overstayed your welcome. Thank you so much for opening your home to us.” Steve looked at her in alarm, Bucky and Sam clearly surprised too. Even her sisters did so, albeit their reactions varied in intensity. Yelena gaped, her cutlery clanked against the marble countertop while Natasha eyed her from the side, eyes minutely widened.

“What do you mean?” Yelena demanded to know loudly, swinging around in her chair. “Go where?”

“Back home,” she told her in the tongue of their country. Pinching her lips together and balling her hands into fists the strain was ever present all across her. She knew it was barely a plan they had. No fuel, no car. But she didn’t want to cause a rift between Steve and his friends and neither did she want to stay in a place where they weren’t truly welcome.

“We only got here,” Yelena whined, a frown etched on her face so deeply it pulled on the corners of her mouth. She was good at that. Years of being exposed to her sad, disappointment-face however had made her resilient against it. And so she answered in a voice lacking any emotion, clipped and strong.

“And it was a mistake. We shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

“The car is useless,” Natasha, who had been eyeing Bucky's frown attentively until that moment, turned towards the two of them, “We are stranded, what do you plan to do?

Walk back on foot? We’ll freeze to death before we’ll even reach the lake. Crossing the mountain pass on foot is lunatic. You are asking to slip and break your neck. Or to get eaten by a mountain lion. Either way, it’s death that will await us.”

“Go back?” Bucky spoke up, quietly and reserved, startling all of them. She looked at the brunette in horror. His words were the catalyst for the descent into chaos.

“Whoa, hold up! What?” Sam guffawed, mouth half-full with his last bite of egg and hash brown, as he looked between all of them. Steve…Steve looked like he was about to lose his marbles. He looked spooked, ghostly white around his nose as he stared at her in open shock. His mouth opened but no words came out. 

“You speak widovian?” Yelena sounded scandalized, her words were shrill and loud and her pitch was higher than usual as she gawked at the brunette.

“The basics, yes,” he answered her soberly. It did nothing to calm the situation or her sister down.

“How?” Natasha asked, her blue eyes rendering in on him. She was ever as calm and collected as she appeared to be. In her eyes curiosity glistened, a spark of something more solemnly seen in the redhead.

“That’s not what’s important!” Steve’s voice had an edge to it. He had composed himself enough to enter the conversation yet desperation and urgency still brewed inside him. 

At once the chaos had been brought to a halt. Everyone focused on him. Once more there was this authority in his voice, this leading nature that permeated from him. He looked between all of them until his eyes zeroed in on her.

“Don’t leave.” His voice shook the slightest bit. 

“Steve,” she whispered with a heavy sigh.

“No!” The strength with which his voice boomed startled her. Instantly he softened, mumbling a smaller “No. Please let me speak.”

“You don’t have to leave.” She waited patiently for him to continue, to explain his reasons. There came no more, Steve was tongue-tied. Too many thoughts in his head, too many things he wanted to say at the same time, all conveying the same thing, and yet he couldn’t speak a single one of them out loud.

“We are causing nothing but disruption between you. I don’t want to be the cause of your fights.”

“You are not,” Bucky interrupted. He clenched his jaw as he looked at her and then at Steve. “I am.”

“You are looking out for your friend the same way I am doing for my sisters–”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be in the wrong,” he told her sternly, “or come on too strong, be too overbearing.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. In the end, she didn’t have to remark anything as Bucky continued all the same.

“If I know I’m wrong, I’ll admit to it.” He spoke openly and in recognition after a bout of silence. It was his insistence however that surprised her the most. “I was wrong. I judged you once again. Instead of considering reality, I thought my imagination to be the truth. I’ve pictured you still as the enemy, as I was blinded by rumors and false claims. Yet you keep proving that there are no ill intentions. I was too blind to see and accept.” His self-awareness and candor were honorable. “My intention was never to make you feel unwelcome here, nor to drive you back to the place you sought to leave out of lack of other options.

You should stay a couple of days longer. At least hear out Steve’s proposition before you make your final decision.”

He made it hard for her to deny this request. Bucky’s sincerity could be felt, he deeply regretted making her feel this way and nearly driving them out. In the end, it wasn’t him who settled the matter, it was Steve once again. When she looked over at the blonde, sitting across the kitchen island from her, her heart painfully constricted. The desperation was ever-present in his eyes. She could tell he sat on edge, not daring to breathe until she confirmed. He looked at her entirely hopeful, how could she refuse? 

“I suppose so,” she mumbled and emphasized her words with a nod. Steve let out a loud sigh, his shoulders visibly sinking. Not only him, she realized in surprise. All three men visibly relaxed. Both Sam and Steve sank back in their seats, bracing their weight against the chair's backrest. Bucky's hands unclenched. She hadn’t even noticed he’d balled them in the first place. 

Even her sisters seemed to be relieved. Natasha’s lips quirked upward as she hid half a smirk behind a systematic sip from her coffee, while Yelena had looked at her nearly as hopeful as Steve. Now her eyes shone in bright happiness, together with the satisfied smile on her lips. Seeing both of them so happy made her previously tight pulled lips soften into a smile as well.

“I assume the cause for your dispute has to do with the proposition?” Steve looked over at Natasha. Bucky and he looked surprisingly shameful at the mention. A little like two young boys squirming after they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t have done. The notion quickly dissolved as Steve nodded and straightened up. Clearing his throat, his eyes wandered over to her, and only as he had her focused in his radiant eyes, he spoke.

“Don’t leave. You are more than welcome to keep being our guest.” She nodded at that, so far the plan had looked to be about that. It wasn’t something new, so that couldn’t be the end of the proposition, could it?

“Our plan was to take you to town and find you a hotel. We’d have paid for it,” he could see her mouth opening in protest. One pointed look and she ceased that try. It made him smile in pleasance.

“That would be out of the question now tho.” 

“Sam is right. It’s winter and close to Christmas. At the busiest time of the year, all hotel rooms are bound to be booked. I fear there won’t be any place left, we could have found you anyway.” He didn’t look one bit apologetic, she noted, intently listening. “So stay. Here at the cabin. With us.”

“How long?” Once more Natasha spoke up. 

“We’ll be staying until the end of the week, then we’ll have to get back in time for Christmas. Come with us. We can take you further into the country. We can even take you all the way ‘til the capital.” This time when Steve looked at her hopefully she didn’t feel the same volition to agree. Instead, her heart dropped to her stomach.

“You are from the capital?” His nod made her stomach constrict tighter, like a vice slowly squeezing the life out of her. 

“We,” he glanced at Bucky and Sam, “we all work there. As guards in the castle.” Fear must be written all over her face as she paled, dread filling her. She’d been blinded by his gentle nature, so much she had run her sisters and herself right into a trap. Recoiling from her seat at the kitchen island, she felt herself tremble. He must have guessed her thoughts as Steve rounded the counter in an instant.

“Hey, no. It’ll be alright. We won’t hurt you. No one will do anything to you, I promise. You are safe here. No one will do anything to you for being from Widovia.” 

“The King the least of all,” Bucky snorted, glancing at Steve. She couldn’t help but think she was missing something, a detail that they were aware of and she was not. Similarly, there was one detail that she knew and they didn’t. If they only knew her sisters and her weren’t just anyone from Widovia. If they knew they wouldn’t be as friendly or as helpful. Perhaps they’d taken them straight to the capital to present them to their king. The king that was her enemy. The one person in the world she’d never be safe from.

“Any person seeking help, no matter where they come from, is welcome in Brooklyn. You can get help if you want to.” Steve’s thumbs softly stroked over her shoulders, the weight of his hands felt soothing even if she continued doubting his words. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you would be helped. The king has set up measures so that anyone needing it can receive help. We’d be able to arrange a place for you to stay. Jobs too so you would be able to be independent.”

“We could also drop you off somewhere along the way.” Steve didn’t look happy at Sam’s additional option. She saw his brows knit. He frowned briefly, the unhappy expression melting away when he looked back at her. His eyes turned soft and warm once more, searching for hesitancy in her own. He no doubt would try to rid her of any objection or reluctance until there was none left.

She didn’t really know what to say. Once more they were offered such immense niceness and help by these three strangers. Three strangers from a country that was supposed to be evil, where each one of its inhabitants was said to be foul and rotten on the inside. Three strangers that should be her enemy. Steve was eager to help, she could feel the sincerity of his words and actions. It made her feel all the worse to lie to them.

“That is an incredibly kind and big offer…” Trailing off she glanced at the others. Even if it felt like everything around them vanished the moment she looked into his eyes in truth his friends and her sisters remained. Natasha and Yelena sat beside her, left and right, as Steve had squished himself between Natasha’s chair and hers. “We’ll have to think about it. Together.”

Steve’s smile diminished only until he caught himself. Pressing his lips together he nodded and soon there was his soft smile again. “You have time to decide until we leave.”

[justalonelyslytherin]

My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | three

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

Summary: When sleep won't come easy the best remedy for it is stargazing and hot chocolate.

Warnings: mentions of parental loss/death, mentions of war and associated crimes, slight mentions of politics (implied, not explicit). All of these topics are mentioned but not greatly elaborated and not the main focus

Wordcount: 4.3k

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: Once more I'd like to thank @imaginedreamwrite who lets me bother her with my ramblings about this story and helps me whenever I need a second opinion. Thank you so much dear! <3 The divider is made by @/firefly-graphics

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

The sky was darker than she’d ever seen. Deep indigo bleeding into the snowy mountain caps and the white dusted woods. Sprinkles of stars glowing brighter than she’d believed they even could.

It reminded her of her mother’s coronation dress, made out of the most saturated prussian blue fabric. Flowing like liquid water, the thousands of tiny diamonds sparkled in the shifting light. Even standing still on the mannequin she’d believed it to move as if it had its own life in the corner of her eyes.

The moon that night was clear, not a single cloud in the sky that could have shrouded it and dimmed its light. Initially, it had been this luminance that had kept her awake, until she spotted something even more peculiar and curious from her place in the bed. But the view through the window in her room had been limited, the trees too high and the snow coating them too thick.

Her curiosity had led her out into the vast living room of the cabin. She’d felt like an intruder sneaking through the hallways on silent toes. Had it not been for her drive to see the magical phenomena the guilt would have made her turn back around. Yet she found herself there, in the open space, sitting on the couch before the floor-length windows, legs tucked underneath her and her arms resting on the backrest.

Before her was the most beautiful view she had ever witnessed. Besides the moon and the stars illuminating the sky, there was something else. In varying shades of turquoise and green, wisps of light coiled and uncurled through the night. Slowly swirling and twitching the colors caressed the sky. As if the spirit of the night had come alive and was dancing the most stunning dance between the stars.

She’d never heard of an emergence like that and certainly never seen anything close to it in her home. If Widovia and Sokovia had these too? Closer to the border perhaps, where no one lived and thus no one could see. If they had, she’d never sleep another night. She’d stay up every night, to watch the pretty spectacle from the balcony of her room. Maybe it was better they didn’t have it then.

Resting her chin on the back of her hand, she smiled softly at the play of colors. Reassurance coursed through her, solace over the decision to venture into the unknown land that was their supposed enemy. All they had seen of it was anything but. None of the stories their ancient history teacher had told them about Brooklyn were true. No barren, plundered and wasted land had greeted them but a rich beauty, one not even Widovia could compete with.

A creaking noise behind startled her. She snapped her head back, body twisting to look. Steve stood on the second last step at the bottom of the stairs, just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. All at once she felt bad for being caught. Not that he had forbidden her to venture out of the room.

“Everything alright?” His voice was raspy and much deeper than she remembered it from before. As she looked closer at him - the dimness of the room certainly didn’t make it easy to see - she noticed his hair sticking up a little and the way his shoulders slumped. The words to answer him became stuck in her throat as Steve stepped down the last steps and took a couple more toward her. From the side, the moon shone through the windows and illuminated him at once.

Unable to avert her eyes, she took in his form. He’d been tall before, she’d been aware of it. All three of them were rather hulking figures but right now he came across as a giant. Had he truly been this massive before? Impossibly wide shoulders and bulging arms were barely hidden beneath a tight, white t-shirt. His arms should have scared her, for the strength they held could easily hurt her, yet she felt drawn to them. She found herself wondering how it would feel to lay in them. Would it feel safe? Would she be able to trace the prominent veins up and down? The snagging fit accentuated his slim waist and seamlessly flowed over his hips into the fabric of his boxers. Thick thighs were as prominently on display. Strong legs finally morphed into bare feet.

Tingling crept up her spine as she wet her lips with her tongue. Swallowing she managed to finally nod her head. “Yes,” she whispered, eyes jumping back up to his. He hadn’t averted his look even for a second from her, maybe he had even eyed her the same way she’d done to him. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” Steve told her with a kind smile. He rubbed his hand over the back of his head, eyes briefly jumping through the room. In the fireplace where the dying remains of the fire. The embers glowed weakly bringing neither light nor warmth. Ultimately though his eyes jumped back to her and with it came the feeling she shouldn’t be here. Not right now. She was intruding.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be out here.” Hastily she pulled her feet out underneath her and went to stand up, ready to dash past him and back into her room.

“No no! It’s fine,” Steve told her hastily, hands held out and pointing at the couch, “Please don’t feel like you have to leave now.” Unsure she eyed him, yet his words felt genuine and so she found herself sinking back into the cushion.

Steve still looked at her patiently, she wasn’t sure what more he wanted. A simple nod was apparently enough to satisfy him as he began to smile once more. His radiant smile made her heart flutter. He had a beautiful smile. Pearly white, entirely honest and so pure.

“Do you–”

“I was goi–”

They spoke up at the same time, voices mixing and words clashing. Steve shot her another smile, the corners of his lips crookedly twitched upwards as he squished his brows together. It made her smile too, briefly looking at her feet.

“You go first,” his words were soft. Always so soft, she noticed.

“Do you know what this is called?” Hope and curiosity mixed in her voice as she pointed behind her. Steve's brows furrowed for a moment stepping around the couch standing between them as he advanced on her. Outside the windows the colors in the sky still danced along, they had only gotten brighter now. The dynamic colorful swirls reflected in his eyes, dancing over and mixing with the blues. It looked like the magic had been taken from the sky and set into his eyes.

As curious as she was, she fell silent at the peaceful look on his face. He looked at the colors in wonder, marveled at them the same way she had. Calmness, she realized, was what had washed over him.

“The dancing colors I mean,” she whispered, too focused on watching the content expression on his face she even forgot the beautiful view from the outside.

“It’s called the Aurora.”

“Au-ro-ra?” Confusion had her furrow her brows. Steve hummed and nodded, still looking at the spectacle. Only when he turned to her and noticed her blank expression, clearly not knowing what he was talking about, did he frown. He sat down beside her on the couch, his entire body turned towards her as he started to explain.

“Yes. She is the goddess of dawn, who travels from east to west to announce the coming of the sun.” The name was fitting, she concluded, a beautiful name for an even more beautiful appearance.

“It’s a natural phenomenon caused by disturbances in the magnetic field. They are most commonly seen at the poles.” For a brief moment, he glanced back at the display of brilliant light. “Sometimes, very rarely, do they appear here too. I haven’t seen them since I was a young child.”

His gaze turned far away, distant and clouded over as he was swept over by memories. Not wanting to disturb his memories, she silently examined him. A whiff of sadness radiated from the blonde. It was faint, nearly overshadowed by profound longing. Longing she was most familiar with, both in its occurrence and force. She recognized herself in him at that moment. The realization hit her, strong yet quiet.

“You are very lucky.”

“Yes,” she whispered, still looking at him.

“You, uhm–” she cleared her throat, “–you wanted to say something earlier too?”

"Right…yeah. Got up because I wanted some water but now I’m thinking of something warm and sweet. Would you like some hot chocolate?” There was this glint in his eyes that reminded her of a young boy being up to no good. Sneaking around and making the sweet beverage certainly felt silly and mischievous and the prospect of it made her giddy.

“I’d like that.” Steve’s smile was contagious. He beamed at her so brightly, she couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. Even more so as he practically bounded up from his spot on the couch with a loud clap of his hands on his thighs. Strong, muscly thighs, full on display, which distracted her from the excited blonde before her.

“We’ll then let’s make some hot coco~!” His sing-songy voice snapped her back, her eyes following him upwards as she pushed off the couch and followed on swift feet through the living room. Leading out of the seating area with the fireplace, tucked behind the staircase, and around a corner was the kitchen.

Just like the rest of the cabin, the kitchen was equally as grand and magnificent. Made out of dark wood and lots of glass paneling it gave both a cozy land house vibe and a spritz of modernity. Overall it felt homely and welcoming, outright inviting to sit down at the big kitchen aisle in the middle and talk or simply spend time in the presence of others.

“Have you made hot chocolate from scratch before?” He asked her, glancing over his shoulder as he had his head buried in various drawers and cupboards looking for the ingredients and utensils needed.

“No,” she muttered. “Can’t even remember the last time I had it.” Sweet treats like that were a rare occasion back at home. Under rare circumstances, some of the kitchen staff had snuck them a cup of something or a little nibble here and there. Mostly it had been reserved for birthdays and christmases. The only time they officially were allowed to indulge in desserts was during formal events, which in themselves were few and far between.

She’d never understood why. Their country was rich in history and culture, festivities and celebrations could be plenty too. Even less so could she comprehend why they’d isolated themselves so drastically from the outside. Their advisor had many times mentioned the imminent danger and the threat of other countries looming. Most notably Brooklyn, yet she had never felt threatened by them or any other country. Instead, she had wished - maybe even longed - to make contact with them, to exchange cultures and views and have some events together to build new, strong friendships, perhaps even gain new allies.

“Without wanting to brag, I’m told I make a hella good mixture.”

“Is that true?”

“Some even say it’s the best they ever tried.” The proud grin he sported together with him proudly puffing out his chest made her laugh.

“Can’t wait to try it then.” That made him beam, briefly leaving everything around him forgotten as he nodded.

“Although I’m sure I will be very sad afterward if your recipe is so legendary. I’ll miss it and won’t be able to have it again.”

Steve’s grin molded into a soft smile, “I’ll teach you. Just don’t tell anyone, it’s a secret recipe after all.”

She made a motion to lock her lips and nodded. “I’ll keep my lips sealed, promise.”

“Just don’t tell Sam or Bucky.” They both snickered together at that, as she once more nodded. One after another Steve pulled out a pot, a cutting board, a knife, and a cooking spoon. Each of those he put on the kitchen island before he pulled out the ingredients. Some of them at least. He presented her two things with a smile.

“Now, most people only use dark chocolate or milk chocolate. Dark chocolate is richer in cocoa but can taste a little bitter. I like to use a bar of dark chocolate and also stir in some milk chocolate chips.” Attentively she nodded, it was endearing to her how Steve made sure to explain everything in great detail. He seemed eager and happy to be able to teach her something, and she happily listened to him, soaking up each of the little lessons and information.

Once he had opened up the bar, he took it into his hand and cracked the bar in half. It looked so easy when he did it and highlighted the strength he possessed. Only when he had placed the bar on the cutting board and was about to begin, did he notice her standing at the edge of the island, leaning on it with her elbow.

“Please, take a seat.” He pointed toward the bar stools lining one side - opposite of him - of the island with the knife and waited to continue until she had actually sat down.

The thudding sound of the sharp knife's edge meeting the wooden board with force as it cut through the chocolate became a steady rhythm in the kitchen. It was soothing in a way, equally as mesmerizing as it was to see the precise back-and-forth motion.

During the time her sisters and she had warmed up in front of the fireplace she had momentarily noticed the silence settling between her and Steve was one of a comforting nature. Silence had always been a heavy and stifling feeling for her, most often putting her on edge and making her tense. She’d learned to associate it only negatively, yet the silence resonating now felt calming.

While she welcomed this sudden change, there was no way to forget how bubbly and chipper Steve had been just before, talking almost nonstop. Now he had become quiet and a little too focused on cutting the chocolate.

“I can tell there is something on your mind.” The knife paused mid-air as Steve looked at her, resembling a doe caught in the headlights of an approaching car. He pursed his lips, clearly fighting with himself to deny or give in and confirm her observation.

“You have some questions, don’t you?” Her voice broke the internal fight he fought all alone. Steve felt embarrassed that she had seen through him this easily. There were still so many questions he craved to have answers for, yet he didn’t want to overrun her with them.

He'd hoped to conceal his dying curiosity better, the mask he was used to slip on hopelessly useless against her. Not even Bucky was that good, that fast, at getting through his mask and sensing his true thoughts.

Hanging his head, Steve's view fell back onto the chopping board. The doe had turned into the likeliness of a kicked puppy. It tugged at her heartstrings the more his shoulders drooped, at the same time a small part in the back of her mind found him to be cute as well.

“You can ask,” she offered him softly. Instantly Steve’s head snapped back up, widened eyes rendering on her.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Amid the obvious curiosity burning in his eyes and the tingling itch to simply ask consuming him, he was trying to give her an out. Even after she had offered him already. His posture screamed hesitancy yet the way he bit his lip gave him away.

“Out with it.”

He continued to look hesitant, apprehension written in bold letters all across his appearance. A minute ticked by before he was able to wrestle his tongue and get the question out. “How long were you out there? Looking for someplace safe?”

She’d anticipated many questions yet this one still took her by surprise. Of course, it would only be right for Steve to be concerned about her well-being instead of trying to dig up something about her home or the possibility of her being a spy.

“A couple of hours? The car died when the sun was still up and above the treeline. We could have walked for who knows how long, everything looked the same. An empty road, no soul around, just the snow-covered trees slowly swaying and creaking.”

She didn’t want to think too much about what would have happened had Steve not heard Yelena trampling through the woods like a rowdy dinosaur. Indeed, the evening could have gone in a drastically different direction. One she didn’t want to picture, the near what-if already caused her enough guilt. After all, she was supposed to protect her younger sisters, not lead them into potential danger.

“Regarding our entire journey?” she mumbled after a heavy pause, to stop herself from thinking about what luckily didn’t happen, “We left Sokovia sometime around late morning, drove the entire day.”

“And you were able to just go to Sokovia?” It made her huff amusedly. Why wouldn’t they?

“Yes. Sokovia is a vassal state of Widovia. You can freely cross between.” Steve’s brows knitted in confusion or what was perhaps dismay. The expression confused her.

“What?” In an instant, the unhappy expression dissolved as he shook his head.

“Nothing… I just thought there were strict controls on who could go there.”

“Widovia isn’t a dictatorship.”

Steve’s eyes widened in surprise, “No! That’s not what I meant. It’s just–”

“It’s just, that you were told so. That it’s like that in Widovia.” Bullseye. He kept quiet, unable to say something to it that would explain himself. Because truly, what was there to explain when she spoke the truth? Slowly a laugh bubbled up inside her, breaking to the surface in a muffled giggle, which she tried to hide behind her hand.

“Do you want to know how Brooklyn gets described in Widovia? A barren wasteland. Ugly and ravaged by endless droughts, fires, and plagues. That it crumbled under the new king, who is greedy and evil, only caring about the gold in his pocket rather than his folk. His black knights take no remorse in cutting down women or children.”

It was clear her words upset him. Steve looked disgruntled and highly insulted, face scrunched in glowering as he pressed his lips tightly together, jaw muscles ticking.

“And do you believe this?” His words were sour, he refused to meet her eye as he focused back on the chocolate in front of him. With newfound vigor, he chopped it all up, the force of his cuts doubling. She’d clearly ruffled his feathers with the words but she had never meant to insult him or his home, just as he hadn’t meant to either.

“No,” she told him softly. “It’s all lies. I might have believed some of it before we reached the border. Before I saw the beauty this country holds. Admittedly I haven’t seen much of Brooklyn yet, but what I have seen took my breath away. There is a serene calm to the area. I’ve never felt so safe in a place I never knew before.

And you and your friends have been nothing but courteous and hospital.”

Once more Steve stopped his actions, putting the knife down. “I guess I shouldn’t be acting like that when I believed the things said about Widovia without a thought either. It’s hard to know what’s real and what’s made up when there is so much mystery surrounding them.” The chocolate was chopped sufficiently and with that, he turned to put a pot filled with milk onto the stove.

“For example?” she asked him, curious to know what they whispered to each other about her home. About her and her sisters. As the milk slowly warmed, she watched him gradually dump the cut chocolate into the pot.

“That in all the years of isolation the country has been gathering resources to attack Brooklyn. To pay a debt.” Dread filled her as Steve spoke those words. He spoke them softly, yet his attempt at mellowing their force of impact made no change. They stung still, cutting her, causing her heart to bleed. “Some say the oldest daughter of the late King and Queen has turned cold and vengeful over the loss of her parents and that she lives withdrawn. And her younger sisters keep in the shadows with her, hiding there in paranoia. Some even say the loss made them lose their minds. That they see the enemy in everyone around them and thus they turned against their people, punishing them for it.

They say the roads leading away from the capital are permanently stained red from all the innocent blood shed in retaliation. And so has the water–” Steve abruptly stopped stirring the pot of chocolate and milk as he noticed her pale, shaken expression. He rushed over to her, his hands heavy albeit comforting weights on her shoulders, thumbs digging into her skin.  

“That’s what you think about us?” Steve shook his head, about to tell her otherwise but she blabbered on. “We– Widovia isn’t like that. And the princesses aren’t monsters.

Everything they do is for their people. They are good and they do their best…It’s– the princess isn’t even the ruler yet. There is still the Regent, the late king's second advisor, who controls everything until the princess is crowned Queen the following week.”

She knew things weren’t like they were supposed to, that a lot of things had been going awry and wrong ever since her parents died. The country had been turned upside down, stricken with grief, things had gotten out of hand and changes had been made that didn’t suit the country. The Regent had a drastically different view toward the country and how to rule it, that, she had been told by the various teachers that taught her over the years, but different wasn’t bad, they’d always insisted. Change was always hard on the people and took time to reach everyone, be implemented.

It wasn’t ideal, she knew that. She knew that the country was wavering and in dire need of its true ruler. It was a pressure she’d been feeling ever since the day the news of her parent's passing had reached them.

“It’s not like that at all…” she whispered, eyes slowly focusing back on him. Steve looked at her in concern, he felt shameful for causing this, awful that he had spoken those words so carelessly without thinking about what reaction they could cause. Especially when the rumors about Brooklyn had upset him just moments before.

“Would you like to tell me what it’s actually like?” Steve asked her carefully, he wanted her to know that she was able to decline. She didn’t. Instead, she nodded silently.

When he pulled her around the kitchen island and towards the stove, she let him, his hand warmly resting on the small of her back. He positioned her before the stove and laid the spoon into her hand. Together they held it, as he showed her how to stir to melt the chocolate. It was a basic and menial task that kept her occupied yet didn’t need too much concentration so she could focus on speaking.

“Widovia is…it’s beautiful. The people are gentle, helpful and nice. They suffered a lot. It was a great loss that left behind a deep hole. They never truly recovered from it. There is a lot of hope left, however.”

The soft curve of a smile returned to her lips as she thought about her home.

“The Scarlet Capital is beautiful all year round, the widow wood's line every major street going to and from the castle and the historic city square.

Walking under the canopy of leaves is like walking through a ruby sky. In the summer the fruits are sweet, you can pluck them while walking by and taste them. Their juice is so refreshing and will tint your lips red. Every bakery sells this sweet, doughy confection filled with custard and glazed with honey. On top, they sprinkle additional sugar crystals.

And in autumn when the leaves fall they coat the small watercourses running through the cobblestone and the streams. It makes them look like the city is alive and the streams are its veins.”

Steve smiled softly at her, he noticed the serene expression on her face as she told him about it. This description of Widovia was unlike one he’d ever heard. His mother had always been adamant that what had happened to their neighbor had been unfortunate. She’d reminded him that they had been allies and friends for centuries, much longer than they’d been supposed enemies.

“That sounds truly captivating. I’d like to see that myself one day.” At that she beamed, nodding excitedly. Just for that short moment, between them alone, the precarious situation between the two states was forgotten.

As all the chocolate had melted into the milk, staining it a creamy brown, he smiled excitedly at her. “And now for the special secret ingredients.” Steve reached behind and produced three small containers and bottles.

Cocoa powder she knew some added for additional flavor or to substitute some of the chocolate with. As for the other two...

“A dash of vanilla extract–” Expertly Steve poured in a small glob of the gooey liquid before he grabbed for the spice jar. “–and a sprinkle of cinnamon.”

In an instant, the sweet smell of chocolate was enriched by hints of vanilla and cinnamon. It smelled heavenly and if it tasted only half as good as it smelled, it would be the best cup of hot chocolate she’d ever had.