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kurogxrix · 4 months ago

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Holy Ghost

Knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

IN WHICH your loyal knight Bucky saves you from your loveless and cruel betrothed, by running away with you.

WC: 1.5k

Warnings: mentions of scars, allusions to abuse and neglect.

The night was freezing at this time of the year, cold swooshes of breeze making you shiver as you sat down on a piece of chopped log. The coat around your shoulders did little to shield you from the cold, but for now it was better than nothing. You couldn’t help the way you were shivering like a leaf, and you’d be damned that it didn’t go unnoticed by the knight sitting on his own log beside you.

Former knight, actually.

James was a traitor, a mole between the Royal system. He’d disobeyed and broken the trust of the king and his prince, and now there laid a bounty bigger than any other on his head, and he wasn’t sure that he’d come back alive from that one if they’d ever managed to catch him.

You glanced to the side to get a better look at him, noticing the way his body was now free of the thick metal armour he once wore as he swore to the rules, the ones where he promised he would be a fellow loyal knight to the prince of Hydra and his kingdom. The one where he promised to protect you and your betrothed from any imminent danger, and that he’d set his life on the line to protect you.

In a way, he had been true to his oath. Yet, Bucky couldn’t help but feel intense guilt as he watched you shivering endlessly in your spot, stuck somewhere in the woods with an insult of a knight when you could’ve been in the safety and comfort of your palace. No, he had to remind himself, nothing about that castle was safe or comforting.

Yet the more he kept on trying to tell himself so, the more he was starting to believe that he’d just commited the gravest mistake of his life as a man. Bucky’s sharp blue eyes were trained on the dirt in front of him as he was lost in thought, and he almost didn’t feel you approaching him, lowering yourself to sit on the log he resided on, right beside him.

You took a minute to observe him, noting the way his eyebrows were furrowed so deeply, and the lines of his forehead so creased from the way he was frowning so hard. His eyes were lost, stuck between looking down before him and looking up at the sky, trying to deduce whether you’d both be stuck under the rain anytime soon with nothing but the trees to shield you.

There was another swoosh of breeze, and another shiver rolling off your body. Your arms grazed with the raising of hair, goosebumps littering your body. Though you tried to put it off to the side, for, you had more urgent matters at hand.

“You should put the armoury back on, it’d at least keep you a little warmer.” your voice came out as a soft, hush whisper as you sat as close to bucky as you thought was ok. Bucky didn’t seem to have heard, his hands now clasped together in some sort of praying motion, and in that instant, it wouldn’t have shocked you if he actually was.

You reached over, tentatively putting a delicate hand softly over his in search for his attention. You’d gotten it when he turned around to meet your eyes, and your heart broke at what you saw in them. Desperate blue pools of anguish, you recalled, and it felt like soon they’d pull you in and you’d be hopeless too. You couldn’t let that happen, you had to be strong, at least for him.

He had saved you once, now it was time for you to save him.

“Tell me what's wrong…” you asked softly, as if afraid that if you spoke too loud it would drive him away. You knew that he had found the question foolish, with the way the look in his eyes switched from anguish and into frustration. You knew damn well what was wrong, but you wanted to hear it from him. You wanted him to let go of this burden he was holding so close to his heart, at least even if it meant that it’d free him just a little bit.

Bucky scoffed, turning his head away and breaking the eye contact all the more silently as he found interest in the dirt again. You didn’t allow it to get to you.

You didn’t want to push him, didn’t want to frustrate him to the point where he’d be done with the conversation and leave to clear his mind in a typical reckless man way. Maybe it was because fear was all you knew, and that you feared a life where you’d have to fend for yourself if anything was to happen to him, or maybe it was because you cared so deeply for the former knight that it scared you.

You let out a discouraged sigh, allowing the cool air to chill your bones as you thought deeply of the situation. Glancing down, you noticed that he’d still allowed your hand to reside above his, and that somehow gave you the courage to continue.

“I love you, James. I mean what I said at the castle, and I'll remind you until you are no longer here to hear me say it.” you confessed once more, needing him to hear the desperation between every syllable that you spoke to him. What you felt for him was real, and even if he refused to believe it, you knew it was true. He’d saved you, taken you away from the people and the place that caused you so much pain before, and in return he’d given you the love you’d been deprived of for so much time.

you watched as his head snapped back to you at the confession, teary eyed as he tried his hardest not to crumble at your side. It hurt you, more deeply than anything else had ever hurt you, and it said a lot coming from where you did. You reached the hand that was covering his up to his face, cupping his cheek as you made a work of rubbing your thumb delicately in an up-down motion over the stubble that littered his cheeks.

You felt the weight of his head slightly lean inside your palm, and you couldn’t help but send Bucky the softest smile you could manage at the moment.

“You saved me back there, don’t let anything make you believe that you didn’t.” your heart picked up the pace as you watched as for the first time in this night, a sliver of a smile carved itself onto the knight's face. Blue eyes tingled with what you believed was love as the corners of his eyes crinkled from the smile.

Bucky didn’t hesitate in his movement as he leaned down, lips brushing against yours as he raised his hand up to your cheek at his turn. Pushing a strand of hair away for your eyes, he allowed himself the pleasure to lean in fully, capturing your lips against his in a gentle kiss.

You closed your eyes against impact, your hand slipping from its position on his cheek and down to his chest, where the cuirass once laid was now replaced by his thin undershirt. Too fast for your taste, the kiss was soon over and the both of you were back and seated up straight.

“I’ll protect you until my body gives out, I dedicate my whole existence to you, believe me when I say.” The rasp of his deep voice made goosebumps raise up your arms, and this time, they didn’t come from the cold. You allowed yourself to laugh for the first time this night, giggles swaying freely in the air and escaping towards the woods that surrounded you. It was contagious really, because next thing you knew, he was laughing too as you both sat there like two idiots.

Suddenly, Bucky stood up. He gave you no time to think as thick, muscled arms enveloped your waist, alongside all of your senses . You giggled as he twirled you around, all up and secured in those strong arms that he’d trained so long to achieve, the scars along his forearms told you just as much.

When he dropped you back to your feet, the both of you were laughing again. Forehead to forehead like a bunch of buffoons, but you didn’t care, you both were alone in the midst of the forest, it wasn’t like the trees could make fun of you.

You’d both ended up panting like hounds by the end of it, breathless but happy nevertheless, and as you watched bucky begin to set up your camp for the night, you knew that you’d be okay. As long as he was there with you, that was all you needed.

this is really not to my writing standards but i’m really trying to get back into writing. Hope you guys have enjoyed it still🫶🏽 don’t be scared to send in a request:)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #knight!bucky barnes #knight!bucky #knight!bucky barnes x reader #knight!bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff

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fandoms-writings · 2 years ago

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Adoring Fool

Part 1

Pairing: knight!bucky barnes x queen!reader

Word Count: 7.7K (don’t come at me, y’all voted for this to be a long one)

Summary: Sir James competes in the annual tourney every year, always winning in your name. But with how things have been the past couple weeks, his heads not quite in the game, not with the decision he’d made regarding his feelings for you - and the mystery person you mentioned courting.

Warnings: smut 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, katoptronophilia (sex involving a mirror), fingering, p in v sex, angst, minor injury, hurt/comfort, bucky is dense but so is reader a little bit, bucky and reader are emotional messes, forgive me for anything that doesn't line up with historical accuracies - i took a lot of creative liberty with this one. I will include a divider where the smut begins for those of you who do not wish to read it.

A/N: Thank you so so so much to my friend @perdidosbucky-yyo for talking with me on this and bouncing around ideas with me and for helping me bring these two to life and for beta reading it! I love youuuuu <3

Series Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Main Masterpost

The kingdom was busy recently, bustling with constant energy as everyone worked to ready for the Annual Tourney being held in your name. Townsfolk and servants alike had spent days readying the south field for the events and the town was decorating itself in the kingdom's colors as they prepared for the fair that would follow.

Usually, plenty of visitors meant that James was as near as ever, always keeping close just in case. But you hadn't seen much of him.

Steve had taken over most of his shifts during the day, and they'd switch around supper time. You'd asked him after the second day where he had been and he'd claimed he was training for the tourney. You missed having him near, talking and eating with him throughout the day, but he fought in the tourney every year. He fought in your name, for your honor - and won every year - so you didn't argue against him.

However, you couldn't help but feel something was wrong. You knew he was training, you'd walked past the training grounds enough times to see him with your own two eyes, so it wasn't that.

Rather, it was the way he carried himself.

He didn't speak too much anymore and when he did, his tone was clipped, cold even. It'd grown difficult to carry a conversation with him without feeling like you were prying too much or without feeling desperate, so you'd let whatever exchange you were having die. You weren't sure what happened to make him so drastically change, but it was like he wasn't your James anymore, your Jamie.

You knew it had to do with what you'd told him at the gala a few weeks ago, but you didn't expect him to pull away from you like he had. So, even though you'd said you'd tell him, and you have had a few moments where you could have said something - where you wish you felt like you could - but you didn't want to anymore. Not until he was himself again.

You'd hoped that this tourney would do just that. Maybe after he let off some steam in the one on one combat he always competed in, he'd be back to normal. You'd even caught him in the halls early that morning, stopping him to wish him luck. He'd returned your wish with a glance and a small smile, looking down as he grew bashful like he always did. It filled you with a certain confidence that things were on the mend.

However, there was one thing that made that hope short-lived.

As per tradition, before each of the games commenced, the knights were given a moment of time to request the favor of whom they wished. They usually asked the ladies of the visiting houses, the women accepting and tying their fabric token to the knight's arm or the hilt of their sword.

When it came to James's turn, he sat atop his armored horse, Bandit, his helmet under his arm and his hair pulled back and tied in a low bun as he rode up to the stands. Your back straightened and your grip on your token tightened - he always asked for your favor, everyone knew it and it was why no one else dared to try to ask for it before he had the chance. This year, thinking that maybe this could be a chance to lift his spirits, you'd put a lot of work into it.

You'd embroidered flowers from the gardens that you two walked through on a weekly basis, making sure to include the ones he would always pick for you. You watched as he pulled Bandit's reins to stop him, the gray horse shaking his head, making his tourney armor rattle.

He glanced up at you, but it was fleeting as his eyes shifted to the seat next to you, and your heart stopped.

"Lady Natalia," he greeted her. You couldn't pull your eyes off of him as she, and every one of your other ladies, fell silent. "It would be an honor to have your favor on this day."

With that, your heart sunk through the floor, buried under the stands you and your ladies perched upon. You swallowed around the sudden lump in your throat.

"Um," She looked at you and you tore your eyes from his form. You glanced at her, giving her a small nod. It would be rude for her to deny him, and you weren't so pretentious to deny him asking someone who was not you. She looked back to him with a nod before standing and walking to the edge of the stands. She held her token out and once he closed the distance and offered the hilt of his sword, she tied the fabric there, the vibrant red a clash against his black armor.

Natalia took her seat next to you with a somber look in her eyes. She wouldn't look at you as she sat, holding her hands in her lap as she picked at her nails.

She knew how you felt about your knight, she was one of the few who did. You trusted her, and you also knew that had you not given her the go ahead, she wouldn't have accepted his request. Reaching over, you gently grabbed her hand and pulled it into your lap, making her look at you.

"I'm so sorry," She whispered and all you could do was give her a small smile.

"It's alright, don't you fret over it one bit," You replied, stroking her face with your knuckles and she nodded, squeezing your hand before you looked back up to see James turning to ride to the sidelines where he would wait for the event he was participating in to start.

The next knight, Sir Victor Creed, rode in and stopped at the same spot James had. He and his brother, Sir James Howlett, were well known through the kingdoms. Two brothers refusing to go anywhere without the other, never wavering in their duties and no matter the circumstances, always returning home in one piece. The Sabertooth and The Wolverine were names given to them by their brothers in arms.

"Your majesty," His voice was rough and clear, but gentle as he greeted you, bowing his head slightly, "Would you grant me your favor on this day?"

You glanced down to the embroidered token in your lap, twisting it between your fingertips before a hand entered your view. You looked over to see Natalia reaching for the token. You let her take it from you, replacing it with a spare. It was sage green, matching your dress, and had a simple pattern along the corners in gold. Bless her for coming prepared. You gave her a smile and a nod before standing, walking to the edge of the stands.

Victor gave his horse a nudge with his heels and met you at the edge with a soft smile, his gray eyes shining with pride in the sun. You placed your hand in his large outstretched one, allowing him to grasp your fingers and bow his head. He leaned forward, gently placing his lips over your knuckles, as he did any time he greeted you, though it was rare you two saw each other.

He reached for his sword, holding it by the blade so you could tie the token on the hilt.

"It's not every day anyone gets the chance to ask for your favor, your grace," He stated, watching your hands leave the fabric. "I had to seize the opportunity."

You granted him a smile, "Indeed you did," You held your hands in front of you, "I wish you luck, Sir Victor."

He smiled back, his eyes crinkling, "Thank you, your grace. I will not dishonor you."

You nodded, dismissing him. He sent a smirk your way before turning his horse and moving to wait beside your James. He was looking at you, having just watched your interaction with Victor, the scowl on his face prominent.

Your smile slipped, your lips resting in a straight line before you turned to walk back to your seat. Two could play in this game. If he didn't want anything to do with you - fine. You could keep to yourself. You'll go back to the way you were when he first arrived at your castle when your father was still king.

Silent, and uninterested.

Remaining detached grew difficult when James's event started.

He always participated in the hand to hand, one on one combat, every year. And every year, he won, easily.

This year was different though.

He was put against Sir John Walker, a selfish and arrogant knight. You knew James could beat him, he was more experienced, more aware of his surroundings and less focused on how he looked. He took his time analyzing his opponents instead of just rushing in blind.

But something was wrong.

James had been caught off guard more times than you'd ever seen happen before.

You couldn't really see him as he fought, the visor covering his face, masking any identifying features. But you could see in his movements that he was distracted. He was slow, sluggish in his blocks and counters. He'd taken a few hits to the side and the head and though their swords were often dulled for these events to prevent catastrophe, they still had the potential to do some significant damage.

Sitting on the edge of your seat, you clutched Natalia's hand in yours as you worried the skin of your lip between your teeth. The sound of the wooden shield in Sir John's hands cracking against your James's armor rang through the air and it took everything in you to not stand from your seat.

The wood splintered and scattered in multiple pieces along the dirt floor as James used his sword to keep himself from falling past his knees, his helmet rolling along the floor when it slipped from his head. Droplets of blood falling and sinking into the dirt. John raised what little shield remained strapped to his arm and looked out at the crowd - all of whom were shocked to see your usual champion on the floor.

James glanced up to you, expecting to see you distracted, not even watching his match. He hadn't looked your way the whole time, trying to not pay you any mind but failing as thoughts of you tying that damn token around Victor's sword flooded his mind. But now, as he finally locked eyes with you, and saw the fear pouring from your expression, his heart clenched.

Your eyes were wide, Natalia next to you holding you down - keeping you from making a scene, and even from where he was kneeled in the dirt, he could see your lips practically bleeding from you chewing them. When you realized he was looking at you, your eyebrows pinched together and your lips were forming silent words.

He couldn't tell if he couldn't hear you because of the roaring of the audience, the ringing in his ears, or if you were just silently mouthing his name, though he doubted it with the state you were in. Once he realized it was his name you were calling, that you were pleading, and he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks - he was back in the fight. He couldn't let you watch him lose. He wouldn't let that happen, not when it clearly upset you as much as it did. He quickly decided that he may not be able to love you in the way he wanted, but he'd always fight for you.

He glanced above him, seeing John assuming victory and took his chance. Swiping his arm with his shield attached out, he knocked John's legs out from under him, knocking him to the floor. James threw down his sword, and wrestled John in the dirt, knocking the side of his visorless helmet with the band of steel around his shield.

That hit gave him another moment to overpower John, straddling his chest and pressing his knees into his arms, pinning him to the dirt. Before John could try and get some leverage, James shifted his shield to rest against his opponent's neck.

"Yield," he gritted out between his teeth. John sneered, trying to wiggle free of James's body, refusing to give up.

James pulled his shield back, knocking his fist into the side of John's helmet, stunning him before he ripped the helmet off. He pushed the shield into John's throat again, knocking his head into the dirt.

"I said yield," James said again, watching as John tried to remain fierce, even as the fight left his eyes.

Soon, John's body relaxed, his blade falling from his hands as he looked away from James - yielding. With a heavy breath, his body relaxed and he stood, pulling John up with him, though he could tell his opponent didn't want the help.

When James looked back up to where you were seated, he was hoping to find you relieved. No more worry in your features and maybe even happy he won. All his eyes found was your empty seat.

"Leave us, please," You announced in a gentle manner once you pushed your way into the infirmary. The staff working around James didn't need to be told twice, or who you were referring to. They saw the way your eyes locked on to his slouched figure sitting on the cot and they rushed past you, out the door in a frenzy. The wrap on James's head was seeping through with red from the wound that Sir John gave him, but he made no move to fix it.

You stood still, watching, waiting for him to look up at you. When he wouldn't, and you'd been waiting too long to be appropriate, you released a heavy breath through your nose.

"You aren't even going to say hello?" You muttered, your confidence shrinking. You'd never had him blatantly ignore you like this, you weren't sure what to do, what to say. It left an odd feeling in your chest you weren't used to - one you didn't like.

He sighed, lifting his gaze to meet yours and you had to keep from stepping away from him. He didn't look like himself, not like how you'd come to know him. He looked like he did when he first was assigned to you. Stone-cold, emotionless, only ever thinking about the task at hand and not wanting to talk to you regardless of how often he was with you.

You didn't think you'd ever see him revert back to that, to see it again after so many years was startling.

"Hello, your grace," He gruffly said, his voice the only indication that he was still the James you knew. He was just hiding.

"What's going on with you?" You asked, still in the same spot. You had a feeling that if you were to try to get closer, he'd back away, and you didn't want to feel the hurt that would bring.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, your grace," He feigned innocence and you scoffed.

"Don't do that," You started, "Don't pretend as if you haven't been avoiding me for weeks. As if you haven't been lying to me."

His brows pinched at your suggestion and he shook his head, "I have not lied to you, your - "

"Stop." You cut him off, now refusing to stay still as you stepped towards him. "Stop saying 'your grace'. And don't tell me you weren't lying."

He took a moment to answer, but still, he denied it.

"I apologize, I'm not sure I'm following. I have not lied to you." He held his ground and you stopped in your tracks just two feet away.

"Oh you haven't?" You asked. "Then why did you almost lose?" His face paled at your question. "Yeah, you know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Your gra - "

"I said to stop it with that." You took another step forward as you let the anger slip away, sorrow taking its place in your words and your features. "What on earth has gotten into you, Jamie? You tell me you're not around because you're training for the tourney, and then you fight like that? Sloppy, unorganized. I didn't see any real effort from you until the end. So don't tell me you've been training the whole time you've been missing."

He looked back down to the ground, and you took the moment to take another step towards him, keeping your hands to yourself even if you wanted to reach out to touch him. To feel his gloved hands, the metal of his chain mail, or finally feel the skin of his face and the scruff of his growing beard as you hold him between your hands.

"Jamie," You said, getting him to look back up to you, "What's wrong?"

He took a breath, looking down before he stood, towering over you but seeming so small at the same time. You were ready to talk about whatever was bothering him, get him back to normal. Whatever it was, you would fix it.

But when his voice finally filled the room, your heart sunk to the floor.

"Your grace, I would like to request a transfer of post."

It was as if time stopped.

Surely, he didn't mean it. He was just jesting, he had to be. He'd been by your side for over five years now. He was the only one you trusted with your life the way you did. He was supposed to be your friend.

"I'm sorry?" You asked. Maybe you just heard him wrong. He'd tell you he was just exhausted. That he just needed rest and that he'd be back to normal in the morning. He had to.

"I would like you to reassign me. To the outer walls." Your lungs vacated the air that occupied them and you had to root yourself to your spot before you stumbled. You never thought he'd ever ask to leave your side.

"No." You said, fighting the growing lump in your throat and pain in your chest. "Not without reason."

He stared back, eyes wide as he tried to come up with something, anything, to get what he was asking. When he couldn't come up with an answer, you shoved down the hurt in your chest and stood tall, craning your neck to look up at him.

"You are the only one I trust the way I do. You've been by my side for over five years, Jamie," You tried not to cringe at the strain - the pain - in your voice, instead choosing to push forward. "I will not reassign you unless you have a proper reason to request it in the first place. I will not place my well-being in someone else's hands, someone who hasn't earned it the way you have."

"Please, your grace," he whispered, his own voice straining and barely audible. "Reassign me."

Your face contorted in frustration as you turned from him, pacing the room unable to stand so close while he shattered your heart.

"I will not reassign you," You watched him as you crossed the room. "I would never see you again, Jamie. You would go off to one of the watches on the border and I'd never see you again."

You stopped at one of the empty cots, dragging your fingers along the surface, the tremble in your fingers making you ball your fist at your side instead as you turned to face him.

"You don't wish to be by my side anymore," You muttered. "Is that it?"

"That's not. . ." He sighed as he looked down, unable to finish his words.

"Then what is it?" You asked, "Because, though it would pain me to not have you near, to watch you go off and possibly never return," You paused your willpower diminishing as you stared up at him, "I will grant it to you if you can just tell me why."

"I. . ." He started, his jaw falling open as his voice evaded him.

You scoffed, the pain in your heart becoming too much to bear. "You have until sunrise to bring me an answer. Otherwise," You closed the distance, getting nose to nose, "You will stay in your position for as long as I deem fit."

You turned on your heel, walking out the door, leaving him on his own.

He didn't chase you. He didn't even call your name.

Maybe it was time you let him go.

James stood outside your chamber doors, staring at the swirling grain in the wood, trying to gather the courage to knock.

He'd spent supper in the dining halls watching you on your throne with your ladies surrounding you - comforting you. He could tell by the nasty looks Lady Natalia was sending his way that she knew what had happened.

And he couldn't blame her.

He knew his request would pain you, that it would hurt. But he'd decided that he needed to be stationed away from you. He didn't know if he could handle seeing you with your mystery courter, and he would rather save himself the pain of finding out.

He could hardly watch your interaction with Victor, the bastard having won all of his events and, since he had your favor, was also seated next to you at supper. He had to watch as Victor smiled at you, flirted with you. He knew Victor would never appreciate it like he should, never truly understand what an honor it is to be the center of your attention.

James knew you wouldn't take his request well, you were friends, but he never should've allowed your relationship to become even that. It was improper. Negligent.

So, here he stood, struggling to gain the strength to hit his fist against the wood.

The rest of the castle was almost silent, other than the occasional stirring of the overnight servants cleaning up after the festivities from earlier. He glanced at the windowsill, the night air bringing a chill as he watched the stars.

He was running out of time. If he didn't come up with a reason for you to send him away soon, he'd be stuck watching you wed someone else. Someone not himself.

It wasn't like you could marry him anyways. He was just a knight. You were a queen. It would be unbecoming for you to not wed a noble, or someone of royal descent.

He couldn't lie to you though - you were always too good at reading through his fibs, he was an open book to you. Any time he tried to give you even the slightest lie, you'd catch on and call him out on it - which made it hard to give you surprises.

Maybe if he told you the truth, you'd be empathetic enough to let him go.

It was his only hope, and he needed to do it before he lost his prowess.

James's knock against the wood and the clang of his armor echoed off the stone walls through the corridor and his heart leapt into his throat as he waited for your response.

It wasn't long before the door opened to reveal Lady Natalia, scowling at him like she had been all night.

"Oh," She said with pursed lips, "It's you."

"Let him in, Natalia," Your strained voice came from beyond the threshold and James watched as your lady's shoulders sagged. "And head to bed, I'll see you in the morning."

Natalia turned and curtsied, "Yes, my lady." She ducked around James, but not before eying him down with a fierce look, and took her leave down the hall. If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under by now, just by her eyes alone.

"Are you going to just stand there all night," you called, "Or are you going to come give me your reason?"

He swallowed his nerves, stepping past the door and closing it behind him.

Your chambers were dimly lit with candles placed on your hearth and windowsills and tables. Perched on the lounge by the large window, you were facing the stars, just as he had been a moment ago.

"Your grace," He greeted, stiff in his movements to walk towards you, trying not to bump into anything, or break something. He'd never been in here, and he didn't want to leave you hurt and with a broken piece of possible sentiment.

"Do you have your reason?" You asked, the shortness in your tone sending a wave of sorrow through James's chest. He knew he didn't deserve your friendliness anymore. Your warm and welcoming voice. He deserved the coldness you were greeting him with, he knew that.

"I do," He quietly said, watching as you turned your head to slightly face him. And though the circumstances were anything but pleasurable, he was still in awe of the beauty you held, the side profile of your features causing him to pause.

Could he really go another day without seeing you again?

"Well?" You asked, shooting your eyes to his, "What is it?"

He took a moment to take you in, the way you were poised on the lounge, facing him only the slightest. Your feet were tucked under you, one of your arms thrown over the back of the lounge and resting on the windowsill. You'd rid yourself of your dress from earlier, the bodice and large skirt surely thrown in some grand closet of yours. You were in a simple nightgown now, the white of the thin fabric catching the light from the candles.

A flush crept up his neck and across his cheeks as he realized this was the first time he'd seen you like this. He expected you to somewhat have a more presentable attire on and he averted his eyes from you, clearing his throat.

"Forgive me, your grace," He paused, almost on instinct, expecting you to argue against the title he greeted you with, but nothing came. "I was not expecting you to be so. . . underdressed."

"Have you never seen a woman in a nightgown?" There was no emotion in your voice, no sarcasm, no teasing. The guilt built in his chest as he tipped his head.

"I have, your grace," He answered, staring at the stone in the wall.

"Then stop being a prude and look at me when you're speaking to me." He'd never had such authority dripping from your voice pointed at him. It was odd, the feeling it left in his chest as he obliged, turning his gaze back to you.

You'd turned to face him fully now, one of your legs still tucked under you and the other stretched out to the floor. Your arms both thrown over the back of the lounge, the scowl still present on your face, though it was cast in shadow.

"I wish for you to reassign me," He started, trying to keep his words as steady as he could - steadier than he felt. "Because I cannot watch you court someone who does not deserve you, your grace."

Silence filled the room as he waited for your response. When his hand started shaking, he rested it on the hilt of his sword, wrapping his fingers around the metal.

"What do you mean?" You asked, all hostility gone from your words, catching him by surprise. "Watch me court someone? Who am I courting?"

Who? Why would you ask such a question? Surely, you knew. You'd told him yourself that someone already held your heart in their hands.

"Back at the gala," he recounted, trying his best to keep his emotions at bay, "You mentioned someone already having your heart. I cannot stay by your side and watch you court them, should you decide to."

You were still for a moment, eyeing him, as he tried not to rock on his feet, waiting for you to say something.

Soon, you let out a sad laugh, reaching for your cup of wine from the table and taking a sip. You stood, walking toward him with the cup in your hand. It was only when you were close enough for him to smell the wine on your breath did he notice the red of your eyes - the sadness that filled them.

"Tell me, James, what is the reason you want to leave me?" You whispered, setting the cup down on the hearth without so much as shifting your gaze.

He swallowed, trying to ignore the way he wanted to get lost in your eyes, no matter how sad they were, no matter how much guilt built in his chest like water behind a dam, threatening to crack and shatter the stone. How he wanted to reach out and hold you and apologize for making you upset.

"Because, your grace" He muttered, matching the softness of your own tone, "The feelings I bear for you are no longer befitting of my station." He stated, watching your features soften and your eyes start glistening. "From the bottom of my heart, I adore you."

A sigh left your lips, the smell of wine and fruits flooding James's senses being the only warning of you closing the distance between the two of you.

His eyes widened at the feeling of your bitten lips on his and your hands pulling him down by the breastplate of his armor. It was over before he had a chance to react and he stared down at you, the pieces slowly starting to click together.

"You're such a fool," You whispered, letting go of his armor and walking back to your lounge.

He followed you, standing near your now seated figure. "Your grace?"

"Stop calling me that," You looked up to him, the light from the moon shining off the tears that now streaked down your cheeks. "You never let me tell you the rest," you muttered, "You've been hiding from me, avoiding me for weeks." You gave him a sad smile when the realization dawned on him. "It's you."

A deep breath escaped his lungs in a huff, as he stared at you. Surely he misheard you, he thought, you couldn't have said that. But the next words from you proved him wrong.

"I was talking about you."

At your admission, his resolve crumbled and he fell to his knees before you and closed his eyes, hanging his head. He had asked to leave. You were going to let him. He was going to leave you here when you were in love with him as he was you. He never would've seen you again.

Your voice calling out for him made him lift his head and open his eyes and only then did he realize how close he was to you. You were seated on the edge of the lounge cushion as you watched him, the tiniest bit of hope flickering in your eyes. His breath stuttered as he tried to gain his voice.

"I - " He started, the dam in his chest cracking, starting to break. He reached for your hands, slowly in case you pulled away, grasping them in his own when you didn't reel back from him. He leaned forward, resting his head in your lap, letting the smell of you calm him. "I'm so sorry, your grace."

You gave his hands a squeeze and leaned forward, your lips resting on his temple. "As am I."

You remained like that for a moment, eventually pulling your hands from his to wrap around his head, his hands moving to hold your legs, the tremble evident in his hold. When you sat up, pulling back, he lifted his head from your legs, looking up at you. Your eyes were full of hope as you giggled and smiled, cupping his cheeks with your hands.

"We're both fools aren't we?" You asked, and he couldn't stop the lighthearted feeling that filled his chest, making him laugh with you.

"I suppose we are." He gripped your hips through your nightgown, ignoring the heat that rose to his cheeks when he finally took notice of your position. And just how thin your gown was.

He was so close to touching you, to actually touching you. To feel your skin against his. Your hands on his face, tracing the wound on his forehead didn't count for him. He wanted to feel you between his hands.

"Can we take off this bulky stuff?" You whispered, pulling on the breastplate of his armor. He nodded, moving to unbuckle the straps when your hands met his. "I'll do it." You muttered, and he lowered his hands.

Your fingers brushed against him as you undid the buckles and he caught the pieces before they landed on your feet. You attempted to lift the chain mail over his head, but it was heavier than you expected and he took over. After peeling away the layers of leather, he was left in just his undergarments and a flush on his cheeks.

Ever since you'd pulled his gloves off, he'd kept his hands to himself, nervous in a way he'd never experienced before. Your hands found their place on his shoulders, one of your hands reaching back to thread through his hair and he sighed at the contact.

When he still hadn't reached for you, you reached down, grabbing one of his hands and putting your cheek in it. His breath hitched at the feeling of your soft skin against his, the way you delicately traced his knuckles as he mapped your face with the tips of his fingers, trying to record all of it to memory.

He'd almost lost this chance with you. Had he come up with a believable excuse for leaving, he never would've gotten to feel you like this. To be this close enough to pick up on the floral smell in your hair. To feel your hand pulling him closer, gripping the hair at the base of his skull. To taste the wine on your tongue when your lips met his.

He craned his neck up to reach you, sighing into your mouth and gripping the side of your face. Moving his hand to wrap around your lower back, he pulled you to the edge of the lounge cushion, groaning when your legs wrapped around his waist.

He pulled away when he absolutely couldn't breathe anymore, resting his forehead against yours, "I'm so sorry," He muttered again, opening his eyes to find yours already on him. He knew he'd already apologized, but he needed to say it again.

"It's alright," you whispered, "I wasn't really going to let you go." His lips broke out in a smile as a wet laugh erupted from his chest.

Your hands moved to his face, wiping away the wetness there before you pulled him back in. There was more of a desperation in his movements now - needing to be closer to you, to feel every inch of you - you'd given him a taste and now he needed more.

"Have you ever," you muttered in between kisses, "lay in a queen's bed?"

"Never," his words swallowed by your lips.

You smirked against his lips, tightening your legs around his waist. "Let us go then."

He wrapped his hands under your thighs, slowly standing and taking you with him. He stumbled a bit, trying to find your bed with you occupying his line of sight, but eventually his knees knocked the side of it, the soft covers tickling his skin as he leaned over, resting you on top.

His hands started to wander over your gown and without breaking away from him, your hands grabbed his and placed them under the fabric, finally getting him to touch your skin, pulling a groan from deep in his chest. His hands mapped your body, every dip and curve, branding the feeling of your soft skin into memory.

Your hands reached under his shirt, your fingers gripping bits of his muscle as they traveled up, pushing the fabric out of your way. You pushed him back, making him straighten his back and remove his shirt.

Your hands stilled over his skin and when he looked down to you, your eyes were locked on to his ribs. Your fingers gently traced the outline of the bruising there, one of the many consequences of his sloppiness in his battle with John. He sucked in cool air when your lips grazed his skin, pressing kisses to the bruising before looking back up to meet his gaze.

You gave his waist a small push, and he backed up to let you stand, too caught in your tenderness to refuse you. Allowing you to push him and maneuver him how you wanted him, the backs of his legs hit the bed and he sat on the plush surface.

"Get up there," You smiled at him and he nodded, quickly shifting up to the back of your bed.

You joined him, straddling his hips, but refusing him your lips. He went to ask - to beg really - to let him taste your tongue again but the words died on his tongue as your arms wrapped around you, grabbing the sides of your gown. The air was sucked out of his lungs as you pulled the fabric up and over your head, dropping it off the side of the bed.

It was like his brain stopped working, seeing you like this, completely bare and hovered over him. The way the candlelight caught the edges of your skin, lighting you in a soft silhouette, but still giving enough light to where he could see you. The gaze you held on him, it held him there like an obedient hound but he didn't mind at all. He liked being under your control.

He was knocked from his stupor when you placed your hands on his chest, rolling your hips into his, your lips parting to allow a sinful whine to fill his ears.

He reached forward, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him, pressing your hips roughly into his as he sat up, capturing your lips with his own. Your arms snaked around his neck as his hand shifted between the two of you, his thumb brushing small circles over your clit, making you gasp against his mouth.

He snuck his hand lower, between your legs, his fingertips tracing along the edges of your folds, gathering the slick there.

"Is this all for me?" He muttered, letting you suck his tongue into your mouth as you nodded. You pushed your hips into his hand and he groaned, dragging his fingers through your folds, prodding at your entrance.

He sunk two digits in, cooing at the whine that left your lips. His other hand reached up to wrap around the back of your neck and pulled you off his mouth so he could see you. The way you fought to keep your eyes open, your jaw slack as you grinded on his fingers.

He curled his fingers, finding that soft spot that had you keening in his lap and he grinned, holding you as still as he could while his fingers pumped in and out of you. He'd never seen you so vulnerable and he knew he wasn't going to be able to get enough of it.

He grinned against your cheek as you moved to bite at his neck, finally moving out of his direct line of sight, and what he saw made his cock twitch.

Set up in front of your bed, was your dressing table, the mirror open. He could see the lines of your back as you circled your hips against his hand, the bend in your legs and the curve of your ass - it gave him an idea.

He pulled you from his neck and pulled his fingers from your cunt, your whine at the loss, making him chuckle. He kissed your lips again before telling you, "Turn around for me?" The look that passed through your eyes told him you knew what he was suggesting - and you wanted it.

You pulled him in for one more press against your lips, your tongues gliding against each other for just a moment before you pulled away. Throwing your leg over his knees, you turned around, watching him behind you through the mirror as he shifted to follow you. The bed dipped under his weight as shifted, ridding himself of his trousers before he moved to his knees, coming up behind you, eyes locked on yours through the reflection.

His hand wrapped around your front, cupping your breast, pinching at your nipple as his lips met your neck. He sucked on the soft skin there, taking a moment to bask in the sound that left your lips before pushing you down into the blankets, his hand remaining between your shoulder blades as he looked down to your core. It was glistening and he couldn't help but drag his fingers through it again.

Your body flinched as you moaned at the little contact he was giving you. "Please, Jamie."

Your begging sent chills down his spine. You never begged. Not for anything.

To be granted the space to hear you do that, made him feel stronger than any suit of armor or handcrafted blade ever could.

Pulling you by your hips back to his, he sighed when his cock slid against your folds through your slick, watching you arch your back. He repeated the movement just two more times before the head of his member caught your entrance.

"Oh, fuck," his breath shuddered as he watched your cunt suck him into your heat. He wanted to watch as he sunk all the way in, but the deliciously loud moan you let out had him raising his gaze to see your reflection.

Your back arched, your face in the blankets as you reached out for purchase on one of them, gripping it with white knuckles.

The sight alone could bring him over the edge, but then that would leave you and he couldn't have that.

Using his knees, he moved your legs further apart so he could lean over you, the new angle pulling another keen from your chest. Resting his weight on his right arm, he reached around to grab your breast, rolling the sensitive bud of your nipple between his fingers.

When he started rocking his hips into yours, he didn't expect you to push them back against him, meeting his thrusts and pulling sounds out of his throat to match yours. Releasing your breast, he moved to slide his hand up your arm, grabbing your wrist and leaning down to suck on the skin of your shoulder.

When you started begging again, chanting please, please, don't stop, please over and over again into the blankets, he knew you were close and allowed himself to drown in your pleas just once more before giving you what you wanted.

His hand left your hip, diving down to circle your clit as his other reached for your chin, tipping your head up so he could see your face in the reflection.

"Let me see your eyes," He muttered into your neck, watching your eyes flutter open, "there we go."

Your eyes widened when his fingers quickened their circles over your clit. And he knew he was hitting the right spot when your jaw slackened and your arms tensed.

"C'mon, your grace," His lips brushed against your ear, "I wanna see you when you cum."

That was all it took for your body to seize up, a shout leaving your lips as your cunt gripped him and he had to catch himself so he didn't crush you. His fingers kept circling your clit and he didn't stop his pounding into you until you were crying out again, a second orgasm quickly taking over your body.

"There you go," he grunted, thrusting just a few more times before he quickly pulled himself from you, your whine making him wish he could stay inside you. He gripped his cock, giving it a few tugs before he released himself on your back, trying to quiet his moan as much as he could. He didn't know if you wanted anyone in the castle knowing and he wasn't about to make that decision for you.

Your body was slack against the bed, and when he looked up to your reflection, he found your eyes already on him - like they always were. A heat took his cheeks but he refused to look away from you, especially when you gave him that lazy smile and giggle. His lips split into a grin as he joined your soft laughter, moving out from behind you and helping you unbend your legs, laying on your stomach.

You pointed him to the wash bin where there was a damp cloth from your bath earlier. And after getting you cleaned up and resituated in your bed, he sat on the edge, wishing he could stay.

But he didn't want to start any gossip around the castle.

You tugged on his arm, "What's wrong?"

"I should go," he muttered, reaching for your face, "Don't want the castle finding out do you?"

Your brows pinched as you sat up and wrapped your hands around his head, "James, you better get in this damn bed."

His eyes widened, "Are you sure? I'm supposed to be guarding you."

"And what better place to do that than by my side."

He sighed and nodded, crawling in next to you, sighing at the softness of your bed. He'd been too preoccupied moments ago to notice how nice it was, but compared to his bed in the barracks, this was heaven on earth.

"I have something for you," You muttered before you reached over to the side table, turning back around with a little folded up cloth. You placed it in his hand, wrapping his fingers around it. "This was supposed to be my token for you," You started, pulling your hands to rest in your lap, "before you asked Natalia for hers."

The guilt started to grow in his chest again as he unfolded the fabric, revealing embroidery of some very familiar flowers. Your initials were in the corner, the way they were stitched telling him you made it by hand.

"Your grace," He muttered, "I don't deserve this."

"I get to decide that," You whispered back, leaning over him, lightly pressing your lips to his. "You carry that with you, so you don't forget."

"Forget what?"

"That I adore you as well."

As always, thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are all very much appreciated.

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navybrat817 · 2 years ago

Text

Cordially Invited: Part 2

Pairing: Modern Knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Female Reader AU Summary: You're a princess in love with your knight. Will the two of you get your happily ever after? Chapter Summary: You tell your parents that you plan to bring your knight as your plus one to Natasha's wedding. Word Count: Over 2k Warnings: Pining, flirting, slight feels (it's me okay), idiots in love, protective Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Bucky's POV after Part 1! Excited to share more of this world. ❤️ Beta read by the beautiful @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by Nix, divider by @firefly-graphics and moodboard and banner by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky knew from a young age that he wanted to be a knight. It wasn’t just a position of bravery, but one of honor. His father reminded him of that many times throughout his life. Fighting alongside his friends, he served and protected the kingdom with everything he had. Even at the cost of losing his left arm.

It was his resilience that caught the King's attention.

"Will you serve and protect her Royal Highness of Brooklyn?"

"With my life, your majesty."

Everyone knew of the princess of Brooklyn. Beyond your beauty, you exude warmth and generosity to the masses. You preferred working with the people and charities over going to galas. Your charm and wit won everyone over.

Especially him.

He half expected you to throw a fit when your father assigned him to be your bodyguard. Not because you were spoiled, but because you didn't get to choose him yourself. Instead, you welcomed him with kindness.

And he quickly fell in love.

“Am I decent?” you asked once you came out of the bathroom, smiling over at where he stood in the corner.

Free of your robe, you wore a knee-length navy blue dress with a pair of heels to match. While you likely chose the outfit for modesty, it hugged the curves of your body and he longed to remove it so he could see the hidden treasure underneath. He had to clear his throat as his stare lingered a second too long.

The way it always did.

While knights today didn’t have to swear to chastity or celibacy, he wasn’t meant to lust after the one person he was sworn to protect.

I'm not meant to love you either, but how can I not?

"You look beautiful," he said truthfully. "You always do."

You looked down as you smoothed out the fabric with both hands. "You're just being nice," you teased.

"No, princess," he said, straightening up as he walked over to you in a few strides. He placed a finger under your chin when you didn't lift your head, making you look at him. "When I say you look beautiful, I mean it."

"Thank you, Bucky," you whispered.

The people of Brooklyn looked at you with adoration, but you looked at him like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky for you. Your smile was like giving him the sun. He wondered if you realized how many different smiles you wore for your family, friends, other royal members, and the public.

And the one you wore just for him.

But it doesn't mean you love me, does it? You simply trust me because I'm your knight and confidant.

"And you do not lower your eyes to anyone," he added before he could dwell on his thoughts, dropping his hand to his side.

"I thought that's what good girls did," you grinned as you spun away from him and glanced over your shoulder. "Or am I only supposed to be good for you?"

If I had my way, I'd show you just how good you can be for me.

"If I didn't know any better, princess," he said, moving in front of you before you could grab the door handle to open it. "I'd say you were teasing me."

"Maybe I am," your grin widened as you brushed your fingertips along his arm. The light touch had his blood rushing faster in his veins and he fought to keep from shoving you against the door and claiming you as his. "Maybe I'm preparing you for the wedding reception."

"You think I won't put you over my knee if you tease me?" he threatened, his darkened gaze dropping fast enough to see your chest rise when you inhaled. He was certain if he put his hand on your chest, he'd feel your heart race faster.

"You wouldn't, good sir," you said, lifting your head defiantly.

Fuck, how am I supposed to get through this when all I want to do is ruin and cherish you?

"Try me, princess," he whispered as he took one step closer.

He did his best not to stare too deeply into your eyes. It was bad enough how gone he was for you. He also didn't know if the glances, the teasing, any of it was because you cared about him or if you were merely comfortable with him. If you had any idea how he felt, you wouldn't toy with his feelings.

You weren't cruel.

"If you ever put me over your knee, it will only be done with my permission," you said after a moment, rushing out the door with a giggle as he went after you.

"It isn't proper for a princess to run," he called after you as you skidded to a stop along the marble floor and fixed your posture.

"And who's to say what's proper?" you asked as you began to gracefully walk. "Don't think I won't put a codfish on your head."

He hid his smile as he caught up in a few strides, taking his place beside you.

I wish I could take your hand in mine.

There were many who didn’t understand why Bucky would risk his life for someone else simply because of their bloodline or the name tied to them. If any of those people truly knew you, they’d beg to be where he stood. He almost suggested once that Steve should be your personal guard instead when he realized how deeply he cared for you, but he couldn't bear the thought of someone else taking his place. Any knight would watch over you, of course, but would they show you the same care that he did?

Would you trust them the way you trust him?

You stopped outside of your father's study and straightened your dress and exhaled slowly. He understood your nerves. When you had your heart set on something, you wanted it. He prayed they accepted that you wanted him to be your date.

The guard at the door opened it once you nodded. This was one room your parents didn't permit many to enter, outside of family, guards, and anyone cleaning. Your mother sat on one of the ornate sofas, finishing a cup of tea, while your father sat at his desk and looked over his paper. Like when they sat on their thrones, they displayed power and pride.

The only other person in the room was Erma, an older palace worker who had been there long before you were born. She loved you like a granddaughter. Bucky respected her for that and more.

"There you are. We were beginning to wonder if you snuck out for the day," your mother said as she set her cup down and stood to embrace you, giving Bucky a chance to take his place in front of the bookshelf after he bowed. "Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you," you said, smiling over at Erma as she came over to clear the tea. "Good morning. How are you?"

"Very well, your highness. Sir James," Erma curtsied, even after you told her many times she didn't have to greet you so formally.

"My dear, would you stop looking at that and greet your daughter?" your mom asked.

"I'm seconds away from tearing this to shreds," your dad grumbled as he shoved the paper away. His eyes warmed as he glanced up to look at you. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't mean to disturb you," you said as your mother sat back down, gesturing for you to do the same. "I just wanted to finally tell you who I'm bringing as my plus one to the upcoming wedding. I think I kept you waiting long enough."

Bucky noticed that Erma slowed her cleaning, delaying it so she could listen. She kept the palace tidy and her team in line, but he knew she also observed her surroundings. He didn't fault her for that.

"That isn't a disturbance at all," your father smiled. "Who have you chosen?"

"Sir James," you smiled back.

No one said a word at your declaration. Erma carefully set the teapot on the tray and bowed her head. Your mom didn't look in Bucky's direction, but focused instead on your father.

"Dad? Did you hear me?" you asked.

The king's smile didn't disappear quickly. It faded slowly as he narrowed his eyes and turned his gaze to Bucky. He looked back at the man, not defiantly, but with confidence. The knight wasn't easy to intimidate, far from it, and he was larger than your father. But up against the will of a man with a precious daughter? Would he lose?

Worth losing my other arm if I have to fight.

"You're bringing your knight?" your dad asked, his voice calm as he looked at you. "Explain, please."

"What's there to explain?" you asked, keeping your hands folded on your lap. "My knight is best suited to escort me, especially since he'll be in close proximity to keep an eye on me."

Your mother nodded slowly. "That's true."

"And there's nothing that says I have to bring a prince," you continued. "I asked Sir James and he said 'yes'."

"Did he?" The king swung his gaze back to Bucky.

"He did, your majesty," he answered, even though he didn't direct the question at him.

"To be honest," your father began, sitting back in his chair as he considered his next words. "I thought you might accept the offer from Prince Nicholas. At least, I hoped you would."

Bucky clenched his teeth when your shoulders sagged, but stayed silent. If your dad wanted you to go with Nick, it meant that he wanted something from him. You were a princess, not a pawn.

Or maybe he thinks I'm not good enough to be on your arm.

"I don't want to go with Prince Nicholas," you told your parents, giving each of them a pleading look. "I'm choosing to bring Sir James. This is my choice. I don't need your permission."

Bucky almost went to your side when he caught the wobble in your voice. He wasn't worth getting upset over. He was proud, however, that you stood by your conviction.

And stood by him.

"It is her choice. We discussed that, my dear. You need to respect her decision," the queen said, holding up her hand before her husband could argue. If anyone knew how to put the king in his place, it was her. "I think Sir James is a fine choice. We'll arrange for our tailor to have a suit made."

You lit up like you were going to shout with joy before you cleared your throat and nodded. "Thank you, mom."

"Of course," she said, shifting so she could face Bucky. "You will keep her safe."

If it was possible, her gaze was more intimidating than the King's glare.

"My duty is to serve and protect the princess and you have my word that I will do so, your majesty."

He dared to look away from the queen and saw you smile at him.

I would do anything for you, my princess.

Bucky caught Erma slyly smiling as she excused herself from the room. Though she likely never heard him voice his feelings about you, as he was careful to only tell Steve in secret, she saw how he looked at you. She saw through him.

She also hadn't spoken to your parents about her suspicions, which meant she approved.

"Very good," the queen said, waving a hand toward the door. "Go. You have a busy day ahead of you."

You went to each of your parents and kissed their cheeks, quietly thanking them again. Your relief made Bucky relax. You may not need their permission to take him, but you didn't want to disappoint them.

"Sir James?" your dad spoke before either of you could exit the room. "Please know I meant no offense by my reaction. You're a good man and I know you'll take care of my daughter."

"Thank you, your majesty," Bucky said, bowing before you slipped your arm through his to pull him away.

Your dad might consider him a good man, but the look on his face said this discussion was far from over.

That went well, didn't it? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

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