#knight!steve x princess!reader

[nastybuckybarnes]

Kingdom Fall  -  Two

Pairing: Farmboy!Bucky X Princess!Reader

Summary: When an invading Kingdom forces you to flee your home, you find yourself stranded in an enemy kingdom on a farm, and the farmboy is nothing like you thought he would be.

Warnings: Violence, Angst, Fluff, Kissing, illusions to smut, nightmares, death,

Word Count: 3.6K

A/n: busting this one out cause I feel like it. I have like 7 parts of this written so I feel like I might as well post it. I’m gonna re-do my master list soon too - but that sounds like a weekend adventure. ANYWHO, hope you enjoy <3

~*~

Adapting to living with a stranger is hard.

Of course, given your upbringing, you’re used to being constantly surrounded by people. What you’re not so used to, is sharing such close living quarters with a man.

You had anticipated he’d be gross and inconsiderate, but he’s quite clean and very kind, always offering you the last bit of food and giving you plenty of space. He’s even gifted you the bedroom, insisting that he wakes up far too early and goes to sleep far too late to require a bed.

He spends most of his days out in the fields, tending to the animals and the crops. On more than one occasion you have found yourself watching him work.

You find yourself entrance by his meticulous movements, the way his muscles ripple beneath the hot sun when he removes his tunic when he thinks you’re not looking. But what has you most interested in him, is his never ending kindness.

As you spend the days regaining your strength and trying to formulate a plan, you can’t help but notice just how kind this man is. From making you meals, to letting you have the first bath, to giving you all the clothes he can find.

His kindness knows no bounds.

It’s a particularly hot day, and he’s been outside in the fields for the majority of it. But now, as the sun begins to set and the wind becomes cooler, he’s left the house for the night.

With a glass of chilled water in hand, you venture outside to find him and gift it to him in thanks for his neverending patience and kindness.

“James?” You call, looking our across the fields then towards the barn further on the property.

You make your way toward the barn, brows furrowed when you hear soft speaking from within.

Immediately you think the worst, one hand grabbing a dagger from its sheath around your waist.

You push the door open, dagger hidden behind your back, but drop your guard when you take in the scene before you.

James is lying down on a makeshift bed of hay, a thin blanket tossed over his legs and a baby goat at his side.

His eyes are wide, lips parted as if he were mid-sentence.

You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing.

“Are you all right?” He asks, finally breaking the silence.

“Have you been sleeping here this whole time?”

He nods, not seeming to give it a second thought.

“I have only one bed,” he says simply.

“To which you are entitled to,” you counter immediately.

He only shakes his head, but you copy the action soon after.

“No, this is your home. I am nothing more than an intruder and a bed thief, apparently. I will not allow you to sleep out here another night. You will spend time in your bed as you are the rightful owner!”

He shakes his head, a sad look in his eyes.

“But you’ve lost so much already.”

Your own face softens and you take a step toward him, “so give me this one thing.”

He watches you for a very long moment before huffing out a sigh and pushing himself into a seated position.

He turns to the baby goat at his side and gently pets its head.

“You be good, understand? I will be back in the morning.”

The goat nudges his little head against the brunets hand and bleats softly when the man rises to his feet.

He dusts off his trousers, looking a tad embarrassed, then offers you the gentlest, sweetest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Lead the way,” he murmurs, eyes soft when you smile back at him.

You lead the way back toward his home, pausing to wait for him when he locks up the barn.

When you’re back inside, you finally hand him the glass of water.

His fingers linger on yours for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes piercing through yours and in the moment you feel as if he can see your soul.

“I’ll draw you a bath,” you whisper, desperate to break free from the intensity of his gaze.

He shakes his head but you quirk your brows at him, daring him to refuse.

He watches as you leave to fetch some water, beyond amazed.

After so many years alone, all by himself on the farm, he finally has company.

It terrifies him how much he loves it.

And that company being you makes it all the better.

He hasn't known you long, but in the little time he has he’s come to realize that you’re nothing like any other woman he’s ever met.

You’re strong and firm in your word, yet you have so much capacity for kindness that it amazes him.

He’s reminded of one of the first conversations he had with you, when you mentioned that you had no husband, and for a moment he lets himself dream that he was lucky enough to be that.

He imagines what it would be like to be yours, to be able to call you his.

All his wildest dreams and greatest desires all rolled into one.

He shakes his head, shakes the fantasy from his mind as you re-emerge, a soft smile on your face.

“The water is ready,” you whisper gently, stepping aside to allow him space to pass through.

He steps by you, his firm chest brushing against you for only a moment before he steps into the bathroom.

He pulls the door closed, but the old wood doesn’t shut completely, leaving a crack large enough for you to see through.

You can’t help but watch as he begins to undress, his torso wrapped in thick, tanned muscle from working the fields all day under the hot sun.

For a moment you find yourself wondering what it would feel like to touch his skin, to have your fingers graze the firm muscle on his chest. You quickly shake those thoughts from your head and turn away as he drops his trousers.

You head to the kitchen to make yourself some tea while he bathes, and your mind wanders as you do so.

Your life has changed so drastically in such a short period of time, and you’re not sure how you feel about it.

In a little more than a moon cycle, you’ve lost your family, your home, and your way of life. But you've gained an ally, a friend or perhaps more.

You know not what has become of your home, your family, or Steve, and your heart hurts at the mere thought of them. But beyond the pain is something warm that you’re slightly ashamed of when you think of James.

He’s shown you nothing but kindness and compassion in the brief amount of time that you’ve known him.

You can’t help but wonder if he’ll help you reclaim what’s yours.

To do that, though, you'll need to know what you’re going up against.

In the time that you’ve been here with James, you’ve learned of your exact location and the amount of time it will take to make it back to your kingdom.

You don’t think the man realizes just how close he lives to the border of Aresia, your home. And if he does, he’s somehow blissfully unaware of the war being waged currently.

It would take no more than a day to ride to the forest behind the Aresian Palace, and from there you would be able to navigate your way through the city to find survivors.

Though you could very well do it yourself, having help would make the journey far more bearable and ensure your success.

You’ll need supplies, provisions, and weapons for any surviors you find.

You’ll need to create an army and lead them into battle if you want even a chance at reclaiming your Kingdom.

James’ voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You look up at him as he steps out of the bathroom, his hair wet and his face gentle.

“If I am to sleep on the bed, where will you sleep?” He inquires softly, perplexed at the idea of you sleeping anywhere but a bed.

You only shrug, “I will find somewhere, just as you did.”

He shakes his head and before he has a chance to think about his words, he’s speaking.

“We could... share the bed. Now, I am not saying this to be lewd or forward, mind you. I only suggest so as to save you the trouble of finding another bed or sleeping on the floor. I can promise that my hands will not stray and my eyes will not wander, though if they did I have no doubt you would put them back where they belong. I simply cannot allow you to sleep anywhere but a bed and I insist that-”

You raise a hand to silence him, a soft smile on your lips.

“Thank you, James. For your generosity. I would love to share the bed with you.”

A relieved smile lights up his face like the aurora borealis, and you can’t help but smile back at him.

“Thank you,” he whispers, as if you’re giving him something by taking up half of his space.

Though you’re grateful to have a bed to lie in, you’re a little worried as well.

Nightmares have plagued you since your first night here, and they haven’t exactly been the gentlest. You often wake yourself up thrashing or even crying at times, calling out for those who cannot answer you.

You only hope that you'll sleep more peacefully with him beside you.

~*~

“Princess!”

You look around, searching for the source of the voice.

“Steve?”

“Princess! Where are you?”

You gather the base of your dress and sprint toward his voice, heart racing in your chest at the thought of finally seeing him again.

It’s been so long.

He breaks through the trees bordering the farm, sweat and blood on his brow, but his blue eyes light up when they see you.

“Princess,” he whispers, dropping his sword and running toward you.

You slam into his arms, winding your own arms around his frame and hugging him close to your body.

“I thought I lost you,” you whisper, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

He presses you against himself and kisses the top of your head.

“You won’t find yourself rid of me that easily, your highness,” he whispers, chuckling when you slap his back.

He slowly pulls away to look at you, both hands cupping your cheeks while a gentle smile spreads across his lips.

You smile back up at him, the expression fading when you notice a drop of blood falling down the side of his head.

“You’re hurt,” you murmur, bringing your hand up to inspect the wound on his head.

When you do, you find his hair is soaked with blood, the red staining his blond locks.

“Steve?!” You look at him with wide eyes, taking a step out of his arms as his eyes slowly become more and more red.

“I’m not hurt, Princess.”

You shake your head, “all the blood...”

He gives you a weak smile and steps away, a sword protruding through his chest.

“I’m dead, Princess.”

You jolt awake, tears prickling at your eyes at the intensity of your nightmare.

It’s been near a week since you and James have begun sharing the bed, and tonight is the first time you’ve woken yourself with your nightmare.

“(Y/n)? Are you all right?” James asks softly, turning over on his side to look at you.

You take a few deep breaths and nod, trying to maintain your composure.

“What happened?”

Those two words are all it takes for the floodgates to open and tears to leak from your eyes.

“It... it was so vivd. So... real,” you whisper, staying on your back and staring up at the ceiling.

“It was only a dream, you’re okay. I’m here.”

You nod, sniffling and trying to calm down.

“Do you... do you want to talk about it?” He asks softly, scooting slightly closer to you.

You can feel the heat radiating off of his body and you roll onto your side to face him, snuggling closer to him.

“I think I've lost everyone,” you confess softly, not going any further into detail.

He's surprised at both your proximity and your confession, but slowly wraps an arm around you to hold you close to his body, hoping to comfort you in a way his words cannot.

“I’m here. You haven’t lost everyone,” he murmurs, his chin resting atop your head.

You hum your agreement and relax into his arms the tiniest bit more, fingers toying with a string on his nightshirt as his hand rubs up and down your back, soothing you back to sleep.

When you awake again later on in the morning, James is gone.

You push yourself into a seated position with a soft huff, mind still reeling from the intensity of your nightmare and from the way James was able to comfort you.

Meanwhile, the man himself is locking the animals in the barn and putting everything away.

A storm is rolling in, and by the looks of it, it’s going to be an intense one.

He manages to finished everything and make it back inside just as the first drops are falling from the sky.

“(Y/n)?” He calls, surprised that you’re not in the kitchen pouring over a book or a map the way you normally are.

The sound of water splashing softly clues him in to where you are, and he follows the sound to the source, freezing in his tracks when he catches a glimpse of you through the crack in the door.

He makes a mental note to fix the door, but those thoughts get shoved aside as you rise from the water, naked body on display for his gaze.

He watches as if stuck under a spell as the water droplets race down the curves of your body, tracing a path that he would love to feel or even kiss.

He turns away quickly when you reach for a towel, cursing himself for not giving you more privacy.

He walks into the kitchen and sits down with his head in his hands, the image of your body ingrained behind his lids.

Granted, it has been a while since he’s had the pleasure of a woman’s body before him, but he knows without a shred of doubt that you are the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid his eyes on. Even if it was only for a fraction of a moment.

“James?” Your soft voice calls as you exit the bathroom, confused as to why he’s inside.

He looks up and swallows hard, trying to keep his thoughts pure.

“A storm is coming. I’ve locked the animals up until it passes, and I won’t be able to work the fields until the rain cease and the ground settles.”

You nod, eyes fluttering to the kitchen window. The clouds are dark and angry, and rain pours down from the sky.

“It will likely become cold. I was going to start a fire, if you’d like,” he suggests, rising to his feet and making his way toward the fireplace near the bed.

You nod your agreement.

“I’ll make us some tea, as well.”

When the fire is blazing and the tea is ready, you and James sit at the end of the bed in front of the fire, a tension between the two of you that wasn’t there before.

You’re not sure if it’s because of your nightmare, or the new sleeping arrangements, or if it has anything to do with the eyes you felt while you were getting out of the bathtub earlier.

Whatever is causing the tension has the room electrified.

“I still have not the slightest clue where you are from,” James whispers after a moment of tense silence.

You sigh softly and take a sip of your tea, unsure of how much you should divulge to him.

“I’m from a neighbouring kingdom not far from here. Perhaps a days ride away, maybe more. I... I was forced to flee in order to save my life.”

He looks down, saddened at the fact that you had to go through something so terrible.

“You’ve been through much pain, haven’t you?” He asks softly.

You only shrug, eyes on the flame in front of you.

“From a young age I have been taught that pain is the only way. The only way forward... the only way through. Where I come from, we learn through pain, through pain we grow. Besides death, pain is the only thing we are promised in this life.”

Bucky chuckles softly and shakes his head, “we also grown and learn through love.”

Now it’s your turn to shake your head, your heart hurting as you think about Steve.

“Love is a weakness, nothing more.”

“I beg to differ.”

You turn your gaze to him, eyeing him closely as he sips on his tea, his own eyes trained forward.

“Oh? You are informed on the subject, then?” You inquire quietly, genuinely wanting his take on it.

He shrugs, slowly turning to look at you.

His eyes move from your eyes down to your lips, then back up again slowly.

“I have my theories... my thoughts on the matter.”

You hum, leaning closer with the hopes of hearing more.

“What sort of theories?”

He wets his lips, eyes darkened the tiniest bit.

“I think that... love is something as terrifying as it is beautiful. I think love can be stronger than anything else. Love can heal and love can hurt. It is the best and worst part of humanity. When you love someone, you would go anywhere for them, do anything for them. You would fight the Gods and you would live through Hell if only to make them happy. To love someone is to sacrifice everything you have... everything you are... and when they love you back...” he trails off, the back of his hand brushing against your knee lightly.

“When someone offers you the same level of love... well... then you are indestructible. Together you could take over the world. Overthrow empires and win wars. Because you fuel and power each other. You strengthen each other, and no amount of steel or silver could ever compare.”

You look at him, absolutely intrigued by his take on things.

From a young age you were taught that love was poison. Love would stand in the way between you and success, so love had to be stopped before it could start.

But the way James describes it. Something about it is so beautiful and so terrifying all at the same time.

“Have you... have you ever felt this love?” You ask softly, setting your teacup on the ground and turning your body to face him entirely.

He lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head, eyes slowly raising to yours.

“If you would’ve asked me two moons ago, I would’ve said no. Now, though... now I’m not so sure.”

You swallow hard and lean closer to him, breaths becoming heavier as the atmosphere changes.

“What has changed to cause this?” You question, though you think you know the answer.

He lets out a breathy chuckle, one hand coming up to brush his thumb lightly against your cheek.

“I stumbled upon someone in the woods... at first I thought her a dream... something far too good to be true. Yet here she is, sitting before me.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning your cheek into his hand and allowing him to guide your face closer to his.

You can feel his soft breath upon your lips, his own lips a breath away.

He waits, not wanting to push your boundaries, but when you utter a soft ‘please’ he’s leaning forward to connect your lips.

He isn't your first kiss, but he’s certainly the most passionate while simultaneously being the softest.

His lips are soft and slightly chapped, moving gently against your own, just testing the waters.

When you lean forward, one hand sliding through his hair, he becomes a bit more assertive.

The hand that isn’t on your face moves to your waist, holding you gently and pulling you closer all at the same time.

You melt into him, getting lost in the feeling of his hands on your body and his lips on yours.

He slowly pulls away, a small smile stretching across his face when you chase after the feeling of his lips.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly, his hand moving slowly lower. From your waist to your hip then down your thigh.

“Better than okay,” you whisper breathlessly, leaning your forehead against his.

He sighs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips once more then pulling back to look at you.

“I do not wish to have you only physically,” he confesses quietly, his eyes so full of vulnerability.

You bring your hands to his chest, thumbs smoothing over the bit of exposed skin where his top button has come undone.

“In what way do you want me?”

He chuckles gently, “in any way you’ll allow me.”

You smile and take his hand, brining it to your lips and kissing his fingertips.

“And so you shall have me.”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

my favorite art piece

pairing: knight!steve harrington x fem!princess reader

wc: 777

warnings: none. tis' a clean story.

summary: knight and princess talk about the visiting duke over oil painting.

A/N: another story to my knight!steve series. alone together is the first one but you could read either one standalone.

masterlist

“was hoping i’d find you here. was beginning to worry you climbed the palace walls again and i’d have my head chopped off.” a male voice entered your quiet art room.

barely a glance over your shoulder you knew who was stepping behind you. the gentle clang of his armor and weapon reverberated off the high ceilings.

“i’d never let them do such a thing. can’t waste a pretty face away.” the smirk evident in your words.

the footsteps and clanking stopped just over your right shoulder, “they don’t write sonnets about this face for nothing, princess.”

an unprincessly snort left your nose, “oh do they? you must recite some to me one day. would adore to hear.”

steven hummed, “what is your focus on today, princess? you mostly paint when stressed.”

focused brush strokes paused, ignoring the way your heart beat just a bit faster that he knew something so small about your ticks. “not always. it’s just when… inspiration hits me. and perhaps it may be when i can’t control something.” resuming practiced strokes, a band of fury hidden beneath a poised grip.

“might i inquire what has you… vexed?” steven took two steps over, now in your peripheral.

shades of periwinkle and indigo mixed, “if you must. but mind your words.” speaking slowly, fully concentrating on your work.

“would this have anything to do with a certain duke? one who happens to be visiting for the week?” you ignored the gentle venom of the word duke.

“lord hargrove’s arrival has been known for many days. though his intentions of travel have not been stated until the day of his arrival.” seeing shades of red while adding spots of white.

“i’m guessing-“ “marriage! lord hargrove is here for my hand in marriage. in request of my father and his, for the good of our kingdoms.” stains of paint dripped down the canvas in tears.

“marriage,” steven repeated, you could imagine the slight snare on his face at the word.

“yes, marriage,” a deep sigh from overuse of the word, “to a man i don’t know and is expected to wed in the spring. no choice in the matter.” rinsing your brush in the murky paint water, tapping it against the lip before pressing it onto a cloth.

“not quite fair to expect that of you.” steven grabbed a stool close by to be placed beside you. he was now sitting shoulder to bicep.

you couldn’t help your scuff, “i’m but a woman. they only tolerate us cause we can be sold like sheep and breed like a calf. a single syllable from our lips can bring us death. seen not heard.” your once melancholy painting transforming into a brutal storm, one that brings sailors to the ocean floors.

dropping your brush beside your easil, you finally turn to sir steven. his back straight with knees bent at the perfect angle, a slight spread to the long limbs. forearms resting on thighs while mindlessly tugging at his fingers, head dipped with untamed strands of hair flinging about.

you spoke before you could stop, “let me paint you.” speaking quietly not wanting to disrupt the peace.

steven’s head picked up and met your wondering eyes, “pardon?” a pinch to his brows.

you cocked your head, “let me paint you. would cheer me up.” standing to your feet in search of a spare canvas.

“princess-“ “please? i wish to paint the face people pen poems and sonnets about.” trying to feed his ego.

you heard the deep sigh but saw the little smile before he could wipe it away, “your wish is my command, princess.” starting to move before you rushed over and rested a palm on his shoulder, “stay. the lighting is perfect.”

he peered up, long lashes framing normal brown eyes that held something special. his patches of silver armor cool under your warm palm. “just sit like before, but keep your head up.”

“am i getting a portrait done by the lovely princess y/n l/n? i must be the luckiest man alive.” his sword clicked off the wooden stool leg.

you started collecting more oil colors, “i would say so. and i would also say i’m the luckiest princess alive since i’ll get to stare at you while detailing my work to perfection.” 

satisfied with your supplies and making sure they stay put, you begin your simple outline in black chalk. the simple task is a distraction from your loose words and hummingbird heart.“quiet flattered, princess.” princess said in a low tone that forced you to suppress a shiver. “only the best for my favorite knight.” saying the words only to yourself.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the eflorr trilogy

warnings: fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, violence, explicit sexual content

info about the world | maps | pinterest board | playlist

masterlist | join my taglist

fused with the foe

king!steve rogers x princess!reader, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, total word count is 18k

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

the wistful wyvern

knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, ex-friends to lovers, forced proximity, total word count is 23,5k

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

soot and sparks

blacksmith!peter parker x farmer!reader, friends to lovers  

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble

[littlebabyyd0ll]

THE LION AND THE LAMB, PART ONE

Forced to leave your home land for the hand of the man your sister had previously been wed to, you find yourself travelling from heaven to hell. Fallen angels couldn’t really be beautiful, could they?

warnings: reader is barb’s sister, explicit themes of death, gothic genre, vampirism, arranged marriages. r’s father physically and mentally abuses her. slight NSWF themes within. you are responsible for your own media consumption.

kinktober day one my angels!!! enjoy!! 18+ only.

main masterlist ! series masterlist ! kinktober 2023

Unbound cobblestone lurches the carriage side to side once more, like an abandoned ship far out at sea, taken captive by the powerful hold of Poseidon. It wasn’t much long ago that you were sea sick from the choppy waves, accompanied by your father and his men on your travels from the bright light of your home, to the drizzling haze that was cast over the country of Hawkins. Oh, how it lived up to its reputation. Hawkins was a dark and dreary place, constantly overcast and damp with the rain that fell upon stone homes and muddied roads. The people of the country watched your bright golden carriage with an unsettling known certainty, a grimace which they all shared under the rule of their king. Draped in their dreary colours of grey and stained white, as though all colours were banned from the land. It haunts you, the undead look in their eyes as you clutch at the windowsill whilst rolling past. 

These were to be your people, your devout servants of the kingdom. 

No life shimmered in their eyes. No hands raised in warm welcomes and waves of the sight of their new queen-to-be. The people of Hawkins were used to this parade, used to the shining golden riches come from afar, accustomed with the cycle that would meet their new queen. For it happened on repeat, to every suitor that King Edward was engaged to marry. You knew, too. For it had been your sister, only months ago. 

Forcing your eyes away from the rain sodden faces of the kingdom’s people, you turned back to the other lively body in the carriage. Your father, crown tall and proper upon his head, paid no attention to the villagers as you rolled on past. His sharp gaze was unwavering on the scroll in front of him, the one composed by the King of Hawkins himself. A proposal of marriage to the King, your father, for the hand of his second eldest child, the last daughter in the line of succession. You. 

Of course, despite what happened with Barbara, your elder sister who was sent mere months ago to be wed to King Edmund, your father had been delighted by the offer, and had readied your things to leave within the hour. You had faced treacherous oceans and sinking roads to get here. All signs to turn back, to rid yourself of this fate, to run and never return. And, yet, here you sat, dress full and far too outlandish for the style of the people here. The sweetheart neckline of your glimmering, ballet-slipper pink dress seems foolish for the weather, as do the puffed sleeves that fall upon your shoulder. The corset is tight and restricting, but the ribbons that cinch the back of the gown are simply delightful and princesslike. You stand out like a sore thumb in a land like this. 

Nerves prickle under your bare skin, and suddenly your tiara weighs heavy. You see the way that your father eyeballs the number of riches that King Edward has offered for your hand and have to force yourself not to sneer at the all too familiar look. The same look that he got when King Edward had written for Barbara’s hand. As your time as princess you have come to learn many things, but one in particular. 

Men will do anything for power, glory and riches. 

“Must you go through with it, father?” Your voice is softer than intended, has none of the strength and authority that your mother once had. You had hoped to plea with him, to present a case like the sinners in court, though you truly were an innocent in all of this. 

There’s barely even a look of recognition as your father’s dull tone fills the emptiness of the rumbling carriage. “The relationship of two kingdoms is not something I am willing to endanger for your personal happiness, daughter. You will fulfil your duty as your mother did, as did your sister.”

“And look what happened to them both.” You interfere, small hands bunching at the tulle of your dress, one of the most expensive in your collection. Only the best to impress your husband-to-be. “They are dead, father. Cold as stone and buried six feet under. Are you not convinced that the same awaits me? Awaits any girl that is forced into the clutches of a powerful man?” There it is; the passion, the fire, the dare. It's the very thing that makes your father’s nostrils flare and has his hand swinging towards you. His jewelled, golden ring pierces the delicate skin upon your pigmented lips and has your face barrelling towards the small window. 

Your surprised gasp is overthrown by his tone. “It is that very attitude that surely killed them both. You will do well to remember your place in this world. You are nothing but a pawn. You are a peace treaty between lands. If your blood is the one that is spilled, so be it. My sons are becoming great men, and they are to be my legacy.” He leans forward, glaring into your tear sodden eyes. He traces the stains that run down your cheeks, sadistic pride fills his bones. He is no more family to you than King Edward. You may share blood, but he is no father of yours. “Nobody will remember the losses of a few princesses. King Edward has ruled for a glorious lifetime. You are not his first wife, and you will surely not be his last.” The words sting at your heart, to know that he is willing to bury you under a gravestone for gold, for numbers on parchment. “That is your fate, daughter. Loathe it, spite it, I do not care. But you will obey it.”

Of course you would. That was your duty. But the truth bares no kindness, no comfort in the depths of its sadness. You force your gaze away, force yourself to stop the rapid rise and fall of your chest, and dab the wound upon your lip with the handkerchief halfheartedly thrown at your lap. Your glossy eyes watch as the bumpy hill rises, and the stone walls come into view. The castle is magnificent, tall spires piercing the swirling skies and mighty defences standing proud as protection, though no one has dared to invade Hawkins in almost two hundred years. The thought had your stomach churning. Gossip of King Edward told a thousand different stories, some say that he is hypnotically handsome. Some say that wives fall dead because they grow jealous of his untimely beauty, one that they could never parallel. Others say that they drop dead at the sight of him, for he is so old that they would rather die than bed him. No one could tell you the age of the king, even when you had offered a satchel of gold. 

Once more, all good fates called out to you, begged at you not to exit the carriage and not to follow the path to the chain strung doors. And yet, a part of your soul yearned for the dark wood cast in iron. You ached to find out if the rumours were true, ached to be wed, ached to live as queen, as you had dreamed as a little girl. Subconsciously, as your father’s men knock repeatedly at the wood door, you raise your hand to the dried blood upon your lip, camouflaged with freshly applied rouge. In the depths of your heart, you hoped your fiancè to be a kind man, a man that did not strike, a man that gave you the best in life, a man that adored you. All you had was hope. 

A great groan comes from the pushing of the heavy doors. King Edward’s men appear either side of the growing gap, heaving with all their might to open the doors. The inside is dark, much darker than the outside of the castle, only the flickering flames of tall candles are enough to lighten the walkway. The carriage is opened for you, yet you await your turn. Of course, your father barges past you and steps on the once pristine fabric of your dress. A muddied footprint stains it now, and reflects the notion that your father will always be one step higher, one step in front, and he can easily kick you back down again. With a shaky breath your hands raise up, adjust the tiara that sits heavy upon your head, and you force yourself to take the hand of the footman awaiting outside of the carriage. 

Drizzling rain falls onto the sapphires of your crown, the very same shade as your father’s surcoat. He talks as though he is the most important man amongst them, his words directed to a very uninterested looking Viceroy. He’s tall, unusually tanned for the people of Hawkins and the constant coverage of clouds. He’s also rugged, knightly looking, with mid length  hazel tassels of hair falling at the back of his neck. The King’s second in command bears scars upon his forehead and upon his cheek, and yet the most noticeable thing about him was how simply bored he looked to be listening to your father. And then, he catches sight of you. 

Timid little you whose dress is stained at the bottom from the mud on the ground. Timid little you that looks up at the magnificent castle with saucers for eyes. Timid little you who bares her neck and chest, all dressed up to appease her future husband. Timid little you, who is absolutely perfect for his King. 

“Princess.” The man calls, voice smooth as he side steps around your father, who does not seem best pleased to be interrupted. You, on the other hand, seem startled to even be addressed. You stand a little straighter, as though all the lady-like lessons that our maid had taught you growing up all came rushing back to the forefront of your mind at once. The Viceroy walks towards you with ease, his outfit a deep murky brown, adorned with the glimmering of shining golden buckles. They each hold the crest of King Edward’s court. He bends at the waist at the same time that you curtsy in greeting, bowing your head and begging that the tiara does not fall off. The chestnut haired man stands tall once more, one arm over his chest, the other proper behind his back. “My name is Steven, your majesty. Sir Steven, and I wish to make your stay here as pleasant as possible. It shall be my name you call if you ever face any difficulty. The king wishes you to have an exquisite time.” 

Sir Steven’s smile is enough to have you enchanted. It distracts you from the meaning behind his words: stay, time. As though none of this is permanent. He smiles at the mere sight of you, pretty in pink and so juxtaposing from the environment around you. The only other signs of colour come from the members of your court, your father, your ladies stepping out from the carriage behind your own. So much alike many of the brides that have come before you. Steven outstretches a white gloved hand towards you, beckoning you to walk alongside him. As you walk, you cannot help your full of life eyes to cast one more glance down the slopes if the mountainous hill that the castle sits upon, and down onto the villages below. You almost feel that if you squint hard enough, you can see where life meets death at the horizon. 

The halls of Munson Castle are dim and dark. The only sounds available in the dinginess are those of your ladies’ shoes upon the wooden floor behind you and the flickering of flames from the torches mounted to the walls. It seemed as though every magnificent window was guarded closed by large drapes of fabric curtains. No sunlight entered the halls, and the flames were just about strong enough to illuminate the paintings upon the walls. Great murals of battles from hundreds of years ago, some even considered myths, aligned the walls. Victors and losers alike, some of your ancestors were pictured in the paintings. Hundreds of years on, you wonder if your marriage to Edward would disappoint them, for he too was an ancestor of many people in the paintings. Thousands of years ago, your two kingdoms had been at war. No more, not with a marriage that came long ago, yet another wife that had died the night of their wedding. 

The thought propels you into memories of Barbara. This place was going to be her home, her beginning, her kingdom to rule as queen. Your heart rate spikes at the thought of how she would react, to your stealing of her husband. Would she get angry? Would she warn you of what had happened to her? She may even haunt these halls, dead in her pristine white wedding dress. For the Kingdoms of the Old, this was an extremely uncommon practice that only King Edward insisted upon. Usually brides-to-be were coated head to toe in gold, silver, bright colours of riches enough to show off the status of the family. King Edward only ever dressed his brides in plain white dresses, the only sign of riches coming from the measly tiara he would have them wear. A flimsy, silver thing with absolutely no jewels whatsoever. At least, that's what the servant’s gossip had said. None of your family had attended Barbara’s wedding, far too at a loss with the death of your mother. Your father had shipped her away without as much as a goodbye. At the very least, you still had his presence. There was always something to be thankful for. 

Your hand still laid delicately upon Sir Steven’s palm as he walked you through the halls. 

“King Edward wishes to convey his deepest apologies for not being able to meet his bride-to-be, princess.” Spoke Steven, motioning for guards to open up another set of large and heavy doors. This one led directly into the throneroom, large enough to host magnificent balls and could just about fit the whole population of Hawkins inside. “You see, His Majesty deals with the court in the daytime, he spends his hours locked up inside of the Place of Arms. He holds his meetings there, you see, and that is your King’s only rule.” Steven suddenly drops your hand, his face deadly serious. You're sure that the expression on your face reflects the swirling inside of your stomach. “King Edward is a kind King and an even kinder husband. He only forbids you from ever entering the Place of Arms during the day.” Slowly, you nod in acceptance of Steven’s words, of your future husband’s wishes. Is that who he is to be? A man you never see in the day, a man who only ever wishes to bed you at night, who does not care for what you preoccupy your time with? “It is imperative that you understand, princess. There is no entrance to the Place of Arms. Never within daylight hours. What goes on behind those doors are for the King’s knowledge only.” 

It’s nothing more than a whisper, your voice. A gentle, “I understand.” And a subservient bow of your head. Just as you had been taught, you are appeasing your husband before having even met him. 

But it is this very moment that Steven takes notice of the state of your bottom lip. His voice gently beckons you upward, encouraging you to look him in the eyes. He does not meet yours, however, chocolate irises far too entranced at the dried blood. “How did this come to be?”

The gentleness surprises you, and in a fleeting heartbeat, a moment of misjudgement, your eyes betray you. They fly towards your father’s figure, watching as he scrutinises the two thrones upon the raised flooring of the great hall. Though they are far more magnificent than those of your home, the ones that your brothers will surely kill each other to sit upon, he stares at them as though they are nothing but a spec of dust, floating through the air. 

Steven notices immediately. “I will have word sent to the King.”

“No.” You instantly reply, eyes growing wide at the brashness of your tone. You sputter, “Forgive me. I-I just mean that it is nothing worth consulting his majesty over.” Your eyes tell a thousand stories, rhymes and riddles of all the times you have had to cover up injuries before. “Please.”

“He will find out, princess. Either through me, or the gossip of the servants.” Steven is sincere in his words, only looking you in the eye. “Let me soften the blow. He won't be best pleased, your grace.” 

Something aches within you. Had he taken a keen interest in Barbara like this? Does he pretend to care for all of his wives before they are cursed with untimely deaths? You wish not to know, face pale and hands shaking. 

“Would you be kind enough to take my daughter to her quarters, Sir Simon? She ought to ready herself for the ball tonight.” Your father approaches with his loud voice and his even louder footsteps. You are quite sure that if it were practical enough, he would have shoes of gold. “A perfect bride takes hours to perfect her beauty for her husband.” slowly, he takes a stand of your hair and curls it around his finger. An act which would seem harmless for some, yet you know its true meaning; a warning. Do not disappoint him. 

In your mind, the idea of your father’s obnoxiousness makes Steven more likely to tell the King that he had been the one to strike you. Perhaps that is what possesses you to speak so harshly. “His name is Sir Steven, father. You will do well to remember it.” 

Regret will surely come soon enough. But for now, you allow Sir Steven to escort you out of the ballroom, and all the way to the east wing, to your new quarters. 

Everything is ready for your arrival. The room is simply divine, despite its darkness. The sun is soon to set, so you believe. Everything is magnificent, the four poster bed, the mirror tall enough to be a giant, a great vanity and even soft, plush chairs for your relaxation. You gaze at it with fearsome admiration, a look that your ladies lining the walls have never seen before. Steven watches you with a growing sadness from the doorway. For you hold the same look in your eye that your sister had before you. And he knows that you too should await the same fate. But for now, he lets your girlhood run wild, and allows you to bask in all things prenuptial. 

“I will be back to escort you to the ball, your majesty.” He turns to the girls that watch you adoringly. “Ladies, this could be the most important eve of her life.” He turns back to you with a smile. “Make her feel like the fairest of all.”

And he disappears, closing the door with an unknown swiftness. It takes a mere moment before the act of your ladies drops, and they too fawn over all that is around you. You each squeal and laugh, completely enamoured by the riches and the newness of it all. Ladies Nancy, Robin and Erica gush over the luck you are presented with, and they tell you that you are destined to be the one true love of King Edward, that this marriage will be different to all those before. They speak whilst undressing you and leading you through a little side door into a spacious room, one with a sparkling golden bathtub at its centre. 

For the hours that follow, you are simply girls. The best of friends, readying one for a night of parties and celebration. New beginnings lay ahead of you, and yet they look at you the same way that they always have. With love, the same way that you used to look at Barbara. They tell you the quickly acquired gossip as they scrub underneath your nails and rake their fingers through your hair. 

“The King’s maid said that he is of fine beauty.” Nancy giggles, lightly fingering at one of the crimson rose petals that float on the surface of the water. Her sapphire coloured sleeves are rolled up as she leans over the tub, head resting against her arm. “And he is most kind, treats his people with only the best.”

“Am I the only one who saw the villagers as we rode in?” You murmured, watching robin as she fiddled with your fingernails. “They seemed so… lifeless. They bore no excitement to have a new queen. Everything here, it’s so different.” The words fall slowly and riddled with anxiety, and your ladies share a knowing look. “I wonder if she felt the same, coming here. If she were as scared as I.” 

“There can be no man worse to wed than your father, princess.” Erica speaks from behind you, gathering water to push away the soap in your hair. “The king, though his lovelife has been misfortunate, appears to be a good man. He has restored peace, it has been years since the last war broke out. The maids say that he is compelling.” You sigh quietly. “You cannot allow yourself to live in fear of what you do not know. The future is exciting. You ought to breathe, and forget about everything. Tonight, you are nought but a princess, a fiancé, about to meet her husband-to-be.” You can hear the way that she smiles through her words. “And we promise to make you look so saccharine that you take his breath away.”

They do. They always do. You almost can’t believe yourself as you look upon the mirror. The dress that had been brought up to your room was a deep blue, the blue of your court. Its neckline delved into your chest and dropped into ruffles of timeless lace that led straight to your waist, cinched by the strength of three girls and a corset. It fell all the way to your toes, where you had grown a few inches from the heeled shoes presented to you. As before, a mighty tiara sits pretty upon your hairline, glimmering in the candlelight. The ladies had pushed half of your hair up and styled the rest to cascade down your delicate shoulders. Nancy had insisted upon your collarbone being visible, insinuating that the show of skin would have your betrothed hardly able to control himself.

You weren't so sure that you liked the sound of that. 

“He will not be able to breathe when he gazes upon you.” Robin gushes, lightly adjusting the pearl necklace upon your neck, right over your pulse point. “He will wish to move the engagement from a week long to no more than a day.”

You roll your eyes. 

“It is true!” Nancy murmurs from behind you, her dainty hands laying delicate little forget-me-nots, the flower of your kingdom, into the flowing locks of your hair. Thank heavens that they had thought to preserve and bring the flowers, for the land of hawkins was half dead, You haven't seen much more than overgrown shrubbery on the way here.  “We have truly outdone ourselves, though it helps to have such an exquisite canvas.” 

“You ladies are really working hard to ensure I have you in my favour.” You laugh, adjusting the tiara in the mirror. Your ladies had also changed into their ball gowns, though nowhere near as regal and outlandish as your own. “Once I am wed I assure you that finding you the most perfect Lords will be at the top of my list of priorities.” 

If I live past the wedding night, you think, but do not speak. There is no purpose in killing their uplifted spirits. 

“Tonight is about you. Do not fret upon us.” Erica grins, shooing away Nancy and Robin, helping you down from the pedestal in front of the mirror in your larger-than-life room. Her hands are warm against your skin, despite the ever growing chill of the castle. You grip onto her for life, holding on to something so valuable, something of home. Erica turns you slightly, giving one last adjustment as Nancy and Robin both come to stand by her sides. They each hold a matching grin, watching you with a lifelong earnestness. “Our princess.”

“Your future Queen.” Comes another tone, much deeper than possible of the three girls that stood in the room with you. You each turn to the now somewhat familiar man, Sir Steven, as he lingers upon the doorway. He still bears the dull brown colour, though now his uniform is much more exquisite. His tunic is stark blue, matching the colours of your Kingdom. He also wears brown and red on his overcoats, the colours of his kingdom. It is a peaceful statement, the joining of two kingdoms. 

You wonder if he wore that to Barbara’s engagement ball. 

Steven looks at you with his big brown eyes, taking in the sight before him. Even you have to admit, you feel like a glowing star. “You look divine.” He murmurs, lifting his arm and outstretching it towards you. Your dainty hand falls into the crook of his elbow effortlessly. “The king shall admire your vision for years to come.” 

And it suddenly hits you. Tonight is about you, this is all for you. You and your future husband, who you will meet in mere moments. He is mere rooms away as Steven escorts you towards the throne room, and you suddenly realise that these could be your last living moments. If the rumours about King Edward are true, this could truly be your last eve alive. You could fall dead at the very sight of him. Perhaps he is a terribly old man who wants nothing more than for you to bed him and give him heirs. A pretty plaything. A pawn to another man’s game. 

You shudder a breath, one that has your chest pushing harshly into the unforgiving corset. There’s a burst of light in the depths of the dark hallways. It comes from the cracks in the ajar door of the trone room. There is a faint tune of music, great orchestral music alike. Your footsteps sound faintly as you grow closer, no match for the chatter and music and dancing. Steven can feel the sudden sharpness of your nails through his overcoat, and murmurs lowly. “Relax. You will be perfect.” 

You wish you could. 

But the nerves do not die as you stand with Steven in front of the great double doors. Your heart pounds wildly as the herald by the door announces your name in a great bellowing shout. You tense as the double doors begin to widen, and the light becomes ten times more eminent. Steven drops his arm, and your weak arm falls limp at your side. The dancing and chattering has stopped, and the music has become mellow, gentle to welcome you into the room of your new kingdom. The first thing you can see is the bright glowing lights, candles everywhere, and suddenly the room is anew. There is no darkness, no shadows creeping down your spine. The room is alive. As are the faces that stare back at you, so many Lords and Ladies, perhaps even royalty of different kingdoms. It is easy to spot who is of Hawkins, their red emblems pinned neatly to the breasts of both tunics and dresses. They part like waves of the sea, and the aura inside the room bides you in without thought. Some greater nature pulls you in, tugs you by force, and has your feet moving one step after the other into the middle of the room. 

You stop in the middle of the ballroom, beneath a magnificent golden chandelier. The gold flickers and shimmers with the flames around it, like stars overhead. You hope that all good fates and gods are watching you now, and will bless your soul. For right now, you feel like a fox against a pack of archers. Every person in the room stares at you, at only you, and yet they do not whisper a word. You turn, spinning on the spot, trying to identify someone, anyone. To find some familiarity amongst strangers. It does not come, the sense of relief that you so desperately sought. Instead, as you stop turning, a group of people in front of you begin to move, parting once more from one another. And then, the music begins to pick up, something deep and meaningful, a tune of the kingdom. Your eyes do not part with the scene in front of you, and still no pair of eyes stray from your figure. Scared. Alone. Until you see.

Black polished shoes graze against the wooden floor. They dazzle in the light, leading to an obsidian pair of breeches, belt loops adorned with hanging golden chains. A flowing material flutters behind the figure lightly, connected to his shoulders, hung by a golden chain to his frilled tunic. The sleeves of his shirt are long, yet his arms are defined enough to be conveyed. The figure that your eyes rake up is tall, taller than any man you have ever known. Your heartbeat impossibly quickens as your eyes meet raven curls, twisting up towards the most handsome face you possibly had ever seen. Sharp jaw and cheeks, dark features enhanced by his pale skin. King Edward looks celestial in all of his grace. He stops a foot or two in front of you lightly trembling form, and he’s so tall. Not lanky, built enough to convey his strength and he fills out his clothes. But that is not what captures your attention most, no, your future husband’s eyes are something of a fairytale. He stares at you softly, despite the sharpness of his eyes. They're brown, yet so much deeper and darker than Sir Steven’s. You swear that something swirls within the depths of those irises, and you are sure not to be mistaken when there is a flicker of gold and blood red, at the closest points to his pupils. 

The King is magnificent. 

Suddenly you feel as though you might fall to the wife’s curse, for his looks and beauty are far  too fine to be of this world. 

He could be an angel, or he could be the devil. His motivations seem unclear, for if he were just marrying for the nations, he would never stare at you the way that he does in that moment. King Edward looks at you as though you are the rarest jewel in the land, something to be cherished for millenia to come. He looks at you how the most adoring, caring husband would to his dearly beloved wife. It burns your chest. What is all this for? Is he merely just a shining actor, ready to do what he will to get you into bed?

But the King does not speak, he only moves. His eyes remain the same as he slowly circles around you, soft, gentle, yet observant. He is vetting you, ensuring that you would be the perfect wife, the perfect woman. You can remember the way that the maids in the castle back home had gripped at your hips and told you how a king would adore them, what they could do, what they could create. They saw you as a baby making machine. It’s not the same now, for you can feel the icy cold tingle left in the wake of King Edward’s stare. He observes your hair, fingertips grazing the ends lightly before he plucks one of the clusters of forget-me-nots out, and pockets it next to his neck tie. Blood red and sapphire blue. His eyes continue around you and his hand falls back to your hair, slowly pushing it away from your shoulder and neck as he comes back towards your line of vision. He seems to take in the sight of your pearl necklace, and Nancy was right, for you swear that his eyes darken at the sight. You flush at the realisation; The King wants you. He finds you more than pleasing, and you seem to have passed his evaluations. Relief floods you – the poorly hidden cut upon your bottom lip had not deterred him.

You feel tiny under his gaze. You can barely breathe, and you feel as though your heart is trying to escape from your chest. It would be impossible to match him, to be acquainted with his wealth, his power. You would surely forever be known as the princess who did not deserve such a man. 

And yet, King Edward falls down to one knee. He lowers himself, far lower than you. At first, you believe him to be bowing. But the reality is far different. The King produces a golden ring, a deep, dark ruby red jewel encrusted with a halo of darling diamonds. It sits proudly between his own ringed fingers, presented to you, and is probably worth more than anything you have ever owned. Across the room, you can practically hear your father encouraging you to take the ring, to take the King as your husband. 

“Princess,” his voice is so unlike anything you have ever heard before. So rich and smooth, yet intoxicating and deep He speaks as a King, with power and authority. His voice can be heard over the orchestral music, he is so respected. So adored. “I present you with this ring as a symbol of our unity. Of two kingdoms. Take this ring, and I will give you anything you could ever ask for, anything your heart could ever desire. Swear yourself to me, as my wife, as my Queen, and you shall have eternal glory.”

You raise a trembling hand towards him. Words cannot convey the sudden compelling that you have, the need to take his hand, to fulfil what he has promised for you. You feel air-light as you speak almost breathlessly, “I swear myself to you, King Edward.” 

The pressure of your corset seems to have faded. You can breathe freely as soon as the ring slips onto your finger. His hand is cold as he reaches for your finger, chilled as the winter’s snow. You jolt, though do your best to contain it as your skin makes contact with his own. You’ve surely never felt something so cold before, and yet never felt so warm. Heat and bliss dance around you as the ring slips over your knuckle, and falls perfectly into place against your skin. 

You admire the jewel for a moment, take in the fact that it now resides there, upon your very own finger. You take in the fact that King Edward had not seen you and rejected you in a moment, instead fallen to his knee and presented you with a glistening ring. Your heart soars, and your eyes travel to meet his. Those around you have began to dance once more, shouting their cheers for their king. You are certain that you heard Robin’s squeal in there somewhere. He watches you intently, as though a creature so beautiful had never existed before. He seems mystified, perhaps even as much so as you are. The King looks at you as though there is a halo upon the crown of your head, and God had delivered you here on a silver platter himself. 

Edward raises your entwined hands, presses his cool lips against your knuckles, and drags you further under his spell. You spin and spin, until you realise that it isn’t only in your head, and the two of you are dancing, hand in hand, his other at the curve of your waist. You can feel the way that his thumb glides over the fabric of your dress, the subtle admiring of such fine clothing. King Edward is a force that hits you like a storm.

“You are a rarity.” He murmurs to you, eyes flickering golden. His lips entrance you as they move, something so compelling yet familiar to you. Did those lips ever meet Barbara’s? How many of his past wives has he held this way, presented such fine jewellery to? King Edward has ruled for a glorious lifetime. You are not his first wife, and you will surely not be his last. It is as though he can detect a disturbance within your aura, the King moves to pull you closer. Your breath hitches as you feel the solid wall of his chest, the brushing of his thigh against your dress. “A fine jewel, something men like I could only ever dream of.” The forget-me-not in his necktie sways with the movement of his dancing. His voice lulls you, but his hands have you more alive than ever before. “The stars are shining down upon me tonight. Being King has brought me many fortunes, but you, my heart, are the most supreme of them all.”

You can almost hear your maids back home, telling you what to say, how to bat your eyes, how to smile. Yet it almost comes on unconsciously as you speak to your newly betrothed. “I wish nothing more than to prove myself to you, my King. I will serve you well as your Queen. Forever, I am indebted to you.” 

There is an incessant presence between the two of you, something that shifts in the air and pushes the blood through your veins. Though you have never felt it before in your life, you know what it is – arousal. Something you only learned of after one of Barbara’s ladies was caught in the stable with a young knight, and Robin spent the eve explaining the ways that people come together to procreate. You wonder how soon after the marriage King Edward will want to consummate. It is a clear thought in his own mind, for he looks at you as though you are the most divine meal, served on a silver platter. 

“I am the luckiest man in the whole kingdom.” He murmurs, eyes flickering from your neck to your eyes. “Sir Steven often overexaggerates, but he did not lie when it comes to your gentle beauty and charm. You are the finest bride-to-be.”

And, suddenly, something stirs within you. His words push you head first out of the trance he had gently swayed you into, and now you remember the absurdity of it all. The fact that Barbara was here, in your place, and now dead. The burn of arousal turns to a burn of fire, churning deep within you. You blaze. 

“Finer than my own sister?” You do not allow yourself to physically sneer, not in front of all these people, but your tone is enough for the King. He watches as you lean yourself away from him. “Or even the wife before? Will you say the same to one of my nieces, when they turn of age?”

But Edward does not falter. He does not grow angry, he does not shout, he does not strike. His eyes remain that same calm and cool. Golden, brown. His gentleness is suffocating. “I understand how–”

“The girl forgets herself.” A drunken tone interrupts. One you are all too familiar with, one that you avoid with great caution. Your dance with King Edward falls apart as you both turn to the stumbling figure of your father, who just happened to be passing as you spoke out of tone. A goblet is gripped tightly between his fingers. He drinks enough for half of the ballroom. Your father sneers openly at you, raising the goblet. “Nothing a simple drubbing won’t fix. She will take it, your highness, she will grow to understand her place.” Your father grumbles, swigging his mead. “Just as her mother did.”

The king straightens beside you. 

You can feel his energy change at the mention of harming you, the idea that he should be the one to set you right with a physical hand. The King towers over both you and your father, and in the short time that you have known him, you are determined in your knowledge that he has far more power and authority than your father. 

“I hope you make jest,” the raven haired man speaks your father’s name lowly. Said man lowers his chalice, waveringly glancing between you and Edward. “The princess knows her place…” King Edward steps forwards, his dominance unmistakeable. Your father gulps. “She is the future Queen of the most powerful kingdom in this corner of the globe. She is my bride-to-be. I had hoped that my loyal servants had lied about the cut upon her saccharine lips. Perhaps, you forgot your own place? I would loathe to have to prosecute you ‘pon means to harm the future Queen.”

Your heart soars. Your lip stings dully. Your eyes are glassy and the shape of hearts, because nobody has ever, ever stood up for you like that. It is clear to you now - Edward is a fierce lover, and a loyal man. He works to protect you, protect his kingdom. You ache for the harsh words that you had previously spoken, how you had intended to harm his feelings. Here he is, protecting you from the torture of your own flesh and blood. Forget the rumours, the curses. In front of you is a human man protecting his newfound love. Perhaps you are different to all of his past queens, for you are sure that he cannot fall this quickly each time, cannot care so. 

Your heart begins to beat for the King of Hawkins. 

Your father breaks the stare between them first. He is no match for the pale, tall and built figure in front of him. Not to mention the sword-clad guards lined up against each wall of the ballroom. Sir Steven has drawn closer at the scene, his fingers grazing the metal of the hilt of his sword. His eyes are dangerous and dark, watching intently as your father begins to stumble backwards, his aged brows pulled together. 

Edward watches him go with a blank stare, yet still so intimidating. Most of the crowd around you are still dancing their hearts out, feet uncontrollably moving. As though they are destined to never stop, not unless their King tells them to. Perhaps it is not you that is a pawn, but them. 

A cold, gentle hand falls at your elbow, gripping lightly. Your eyes reach those of King Edward’s, but they are suddenly unfamiliar. There is no gold, no hint of red. They are almost obsidian black, the same tone as his curly hair. You can feel the invisible string pulling your brows together as you take in the sight, dainty hand moving up towards his face. The warmth of your skin caresses his cheek, thumb ghosting across the skin under his eye. 

“Your eyes…” you murmur, wracking your brain for a logical answer. “They have changed.” 

“They have not been the same since I set my sights on you, princess.” The King’s free hand meets yours, sandwiching you between his cool skin. “They will never be the same again.” 

You believe him wholeheartedly. You can see the meaning of his words within his eyes, and your heart bleeds for him. In fact, you are sure that you have already passed over your heart to him, pushed your hand inside your chest and dug around until you reached the beating organ, your vessel of life, and handed it over to him. 

The feeling lingers, once more underneath the spell of King Edward, throughout the eve. You are enamoured by him as he walks you through the throne room, introducing you to the strange people of Hawkins. Some of them look at you as though you are a piece of meat, and you are sure that you can feel the King’s grip on your waist tighten. They all seem to have a similar aura about them, like they share a hidden secret. They stare intensely, but you assume it is because you are an outsider. Still, King Edward puts you at ease. He speaks so freely, so smoothly. He shows you your future throne, shows you the deep, red ruby set at the crescent of the golden chair. It matches your ring entirely, and the King does not comment when you speak on their likeness. What else could you expect? It is the colour of his court, after all. You are still enamoured when he sneaks you away from the courtroom, when he steals you from the knowing stares of your ladies, who happily let him take you away. They steal your chalice of wine and usher you with shooing hands, winking wildly. 

You grin like a child, unable to contain your excitement,  in a way that you haven’t in so many years. Not since the last festival of light, back in your home kingdom, with your mother, when she had sang to you, span you in dance, braided your hair. You had not known a giddiness quite like this in such a long lifetime. You cannot help the way that you giggle as you run hand in hand through the flame lit halls. Your hair sways behind you, flowers surely falling from their neat positions. The clipping sound of your heels fills the hall, and King Edward’s somehow fall silently. You suppose in hindsight that it is due to his meticulous battle training, his tactics. 

The King takes you out to a courtyard, one that is filled with some of the first signs of life that you have seen since arriving in Hawkins. Flowers bloom in the midnight moon, something exotic and unseen of your land. Some are bright red, others variants of orange and yellow. They hold so much life, so natural and yet completely supernatural at the same time. He speaks their names slowly, guiding you through them with a gentle hand against your spine. You have never heard of the plants before, never been so in awe of the world’s beauty. 

King Edward watches you. His eyes take in the way that you kneel to be closer to the horticulture, the gentleness of your fingers as you test the leaves. He grows to quickly adore the soft nature of your voice, the inquiries of your genuine questions. He answers them with the same love in his eyes that you hold in yours, and suddenly you feel as though you could be his wife blind. Help him rule his kingdom without as such as a hiccup. 

“You will make the most beautiful Queen.” He speaks to you towards the end of the night, when the two of you have tucked yourselves away in a corner of the ballroom that Sir Steven made you return to. King Edward looks down at you as he speaks, large hands holding a chalice which he tips towards your lips. Obediently you open your mouth to him, the red wine burning upon your tongue as it slips past your healing lips. “So adoring, so fine. I wish for my people to serve you as they do me. I will arrange for you to visit the townsfolk with Sir Steven tomorrow, to see how they live.” You try not to think of their solemn faces, the death in their eyes. “You will grow to love them as your own, Princess.” 

“Anything you wish, My King.” The words come after a swallow of the alcohol, the King’s eyes following a falling drop of crimson as it cascades down your chin. His eyes flicker once more, a new sort of hunger hidden behind them. “Will you do me the pleasure of accompanying myself and Sir Steven?” 

His gaze shifts again, and something swirls in his chest — you can almost see it happening. 

“My duties lay elsewhere in the daytime, Princess. I did ask Steven to assure you of this,” 

“He did.” You’re quick to interject. “It was merely wishful thinking, my King. I apologise.” 

“You never have to be sorry.” He murmurs, dark eyes injecting a cooling sensation into your very veins. King Edward has put a spell on you, a spell that would surely soon have him chasing after you.

A spell that will have you running from the daylight. 

[navybrat817]

Navy's January Fics

Hi, lovelies! Here are my fics and imagines for January. Moodboard by yours truly, banner by @sgt-seabass , and divider by @firefly-graphics .

1/4 - Adventures in Babysitting (Florist!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/6 - Ravenous (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/8 - Insatiable (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/12 - Preliminary (Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Reader)

1/15 - Greedy (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/18 - Shatter (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/18 - Cordially Invited: Part 2 (Modern Knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader)

1/22 - Worship (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/22 - Opacity (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/24 - Service With a Smile (Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/25 - Looks Better on You (Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Love and thanks for reading! 💙

[bucky-h0e]

Of Summer Days and Winter Nights

Medieval Fantasy AU! Knight Bucky x Princess Reader

Synopsis:

As courting season approaches, King Clement II wishes to find a lover for his dear daughter, Y/n. She will be Queen of their land, one day in the distant future, one who serves their people well. But he knows the hardships all too well; he knows his daughter just as well. These hardships are meant to be shared, a ruler meant to be supported by the ones they love, but he will not always be around for her. So, he calls for a festival to celebrate the season, inviting all available bachelors and bachelorettes to his kingdom, he prays for someone to catch the eye of his precious girl.

He just did not anticipate it being one of the three most well known knights of the realm. One Sir James 'Bucky' Barnes.

Masterlist

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Taglist: OPEN

@thehumanistsdiary @browneyedgirl22 @tf-is-fanfic @jenn-f @melsunshine

A/N:

Hi everyone! This will be my very first attempt at writing a written fic, so please have patience with me. Chapters may be slow coming out, most likely two weeks apart, however I will send some notifications out. I am hoping for it to only be a short series and that you'll enjoy it!

If you would like to be added to the taglist, then please let me know! I will eventually do requests but I'd like to get this series started first! Please be sure to like it, reblog it or comment if you enjoyed it!

[bigtreefest]

😭😭it’s so beautiful! You can really feel how tied their souls are. How much they fell so deeply for each other. 🥺 it’s a shame blue’s father was so terrible, but I’m glad she and Steve were able to find a happy place together. Best friends and partners, caring so much about each other that they left everything they’ve ever worked for behind. I hope they still get to see Bucky, that’s a true friend, too, willing to help them out. Perfection.

| Lady Blue |

Falling in love with your best friend wasn't something you ever anticipated, you had a role to fulfil and your hand was sold. Yet your heart longed for him.

✧Pairing✧ Knight!Steve Rogers x Princess!Reader (Fem)

✧Warnings✧ Fluff, A Little Angst, Talks of Arranged marriage, John Walker (ew), Name Calling, like the teeniest bit of violence, Hurt, Brief mention of injury, Sweet ending

✧Word Count✧ 2.1k

✧Author Note ✧ I WROTE SOMETHING THAT ISNT SMUT!! — happy birthday Stevie Rogers 🥳

You don’t know when it happened, when that little crush became something more, when the hugs became intimate and the kisses were on the lips rather than on the cheeks.

Steve Rogers, your best friend. You’d been born beds apart, your mother a queen and her best friend a noblewoman. You weren’t sure if they planned it or it was fate but they both ended up with child and gave birth almost exactly on the same day.

Steve was headstrong, and a leader. He always made sure you were safe and protected, it was cute how doting he was because ‘he was older’. You were quick to comment how it was only by a few hours.

You were inseparable as kids, spending most of your time in the fields of blue flowers that decorated the walk to the large castle. It’s how you earned the name, Lady Blue - a flower crown of blue atop your head always.

Your infatuation grew for him as you aged into a teen, you weren’t around each other as much because of duties taking up most of your time but you remembered something about absence making the heart grow fonder and you could attest to that.

Steve was away most of the time on the other end of the city, training in the ring to become a knight, his dream. You were stuck in the palace, studying history and languages to be a great queen although you spent much of your time staring out of the window and imagining you and Steve doing the same things you did as kids. Living.

You lied.

You remember exactly when it happened.

Steve's graduation, he finally wore his purple cloak and had his royal etched sword around his hip. Drinks flowed left and right, the night filled with laughter and singing, all muffled behind the thick glass doors leading out to the courtyard where you and Steve sat watching the birds bathe in the fountain.

“How was it?” You asked, both hands soothing over his larger, calloused one, running over each scar and healing wound he donned.

He breathed out slowly, as though you were one of the small birds that he had to tiptoe around so he didn’t scare them off. He knew that you would never be scared of him but he couldn’t shake that feeling, you were so dainty beside him. To think that once upon a time you were a head taller than him.

“It was fine, made some friends” he nodded off to a pair of iron-clad men clinging to each other singing an old folk tune. “Sam and Bucky, they’re wild but they are good guys.”

The air around you thickened if it were possible, something going unsaid between you two, a rope pulled taut that threatened to snap. Steve’s eyes studied you, thoroughly enjoying the sight of you by his side. You looked beautiful, eyes twinkling in the moonlight as your eyes returned to the fountain, your hair shining. You had grown up and become such a beautiful soul that he knew you were.

“I missed you.”

“Hm?” You looked up at him, confusion and curiosity carved onto your features.

“I thought of you all the time being out there, when it got tough and I needed some of those princess bear hugs you gave me” You giggled at his words, bringing about his chuckle. Your knees knocked as you leaned closer, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I missed you too Stevie.”

“Princess” he murmured after a moment, taking a few deep breaths to quieten his pounding heart, although when he looked down at you it skipped beat after beat anyway.

“Ser Rogers” you teased with a cheeky smirk, the sparkle in your hues growing as you almost challenged him to speak. I dare you, your eyes cried out to him.

Steve was never one to back down from a dare.

His lips were on yours before you could even think, embracing yours in a way that left you dizzy before shocking you into action and kissing back with the same ferocity.

Snap, that rope between you broke.

After that night you’d both chosen to keep your love a secret, your father was strict and unforgiving, he would not stand for his daughter dating someone lower than a future heir despite it not being your choice. Even years later, both of you adults still sneaked around like you did when you were teens.

Your door shook with heavy knocks, Ser Barnes’ voice booming from the other end.

“My Princess, the King wishes to see you at once.”

You groaned and let your eyes fall shut again until soft kisses trailing up your shoulder and neck brought a smile upon your face.

“Come on Lady Blue, can’t disappoint Father now” he joked, deep voice raspy from sleep, vibrating against your ear.

Even after all these years each moment you spent with him felt like you were falling in love with him for the first time, diving straight off the deep end and into your sheets with him.

You stood, helping him into his gear so he could slink off and allow your handmaidens in to help you dress.

“I love you” he whispered into the top of your head, placing a chaste kiss there before tilting your chin up to slant his lips against your own. Despite the shortness of it, you were left breathless when he parted, turning on his heel professionally and making his exit.

A ball of dread settled in your stomach at the thought of today’s meeting with your father. For months now he’d been adamant that you were to be married by the end of the year and set about finding suitors, each time you rejected them he’d bring up another. But you loved Steve too much.

You knew it wouldn’t last forever, it couldn’t. You were noble, bound to marry a prince and join two kingdoms in matrimony. He was a knight, he swore an oath to protect you from harm, nothing more.

All of that knowledge didn’t help it hurt any less when you stepped into the throne room, your eyes landing on potentially the worst prince your father had brought to you yet.

The king from the neighbouring place and his son, John Walker. A self-proclaimed prophet that was bound to rule all over the land.

“You will marry Prince John Walker” your father announced, the smug sneer on the prince’s face had you wishing you’d had breakfast before coming here so you could have something in your stomach to throw up.

You were bound to marry a pompous, arrogant, narcissistic man and leave the man who’d loved you since day dot.

You wouldn’t stand for it.

“I will not marry John” You challenged, something you’d only done a handful of times in your life. Your father’s nostrils flared, his jaw clenching and eyes wild.

“Excuse me?”

“I will not marry him” You repeated.

“You don’t have a choice young lady” he rose from his throne, stomping down the steps until his face was in yours. Your legs wobbled as you tried to stand your ground against your father's presence.

“You will marry Prince Walker, you will join our kingdoms and you will bear his heirs, I am sick of you rejecting everyone I introduce you to so I made the decision myself.”

“I won’t” you yelled this time, hurt and angry bubbling into rage “because I love another.”

The words slipped out your mouth, your hand slapping around your face far too slow to catch them.

The room fell silent. Pin drop silent. Steve stood at the entrance of the hall, head hung low to hide the reddening of his face, his hands clamping into fists at his side.

“Who?” Your father’s hand clamped onto your chin, your jaw throbbing in pain at the hold.

“Ser Rogers” you hissed, falling into a pile of clothes and pain when your father’s hand let you go.

“You wench!” he spat in disgust.

You tried to argue, tried to plead with your father but he shrugged you off.

“Ser Barnes, take my daughter back to her room, I want some time with Ser Rogers. Alone.”

You didn’t struggle as Ser Barnes picked you up from the floor, hoisting you over his shoulder. You couldn’t even look at Steve when you walked by.

Ser Barnes set you down on your bed softly, patting the top of your head as you stared off into space, tears rolling down your cheeks. He left and came back with a small glass of water and a muffin which you refused to eat.

Once Bucky left you crawled up to the head of your bed, stuffing your face into your pillow and staining it with black from your mascara. Your door was on constant watch in case you got any big ideas. The Blue Daisy’s had bloomed but you couldn’t leave, you weren’t allowed to leave.

As day turned into night you shifted to look out at the setting sun. Your dinner lay untouched on your table, your focus set firmly on the world outside, families rushing to pack up their markets before the evening rain.

“Lady Blue” you recognised the voice.

“Bucky?”

“Can I come in?” He asked. You hummed your confirmation and the huge brunette slipped in.

“Steve—he’s being shipped off. Tonight.” He explained his stormy eyes on you, watching you process the information.

“So what? It’s not like I can stop it” You answered bitterly, a shell of the woman you usually were. There was no hint of cheer or teasing in your tone like there once was, it had all been left in that throne room.

You took note of his heavy sigh before he inched further into the room, Only then did you gaze up at him. In his hands was a set of clothes, the kind commoners wore along with a large black cloak and a purple velvet pouch.

“Do you love him?” He asked, eyes searching yours.

“More than anything” you replied without hesitation.

“Then we better move.”

“W-what do you mean?” You stood, head tilted and brows furrowed. You just barely caught the clothes that Bucky threw at you.

“His ship leaves in an hour, if you don’t hurry and get changed we’ll miss it”.

You could’ve kissed Bucky.

The shipyards reeked of fish and shit, but you couldn’t care about that. Not now. Hopping off of Bucky’s white steed you pat its neck before looking up at him.

“Thank you, Buck, I don’t know how I can repay you.”

He smiled, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles.

“You can get on that ship and live your life Lady Blue. I’ll see you soon” he flashed you one of his pearly white smiles and turned the horse, setting off the way he’d come.

You darted onto the ship, eyes scanning the faces of workers and guests until they fell on the man that you were doing all of this for. Any doubt that boiled in your stomach melted away leaving only one thing remaining, that deep love that Steve gave you. He didn’t turn until you were standing in front of him.

“Princess?” his shocked voice sounded as he looked up at you. He looked tired, his skin pale and a nasty bruise was forming over his cheekbone. No doubt thanks to your father.

“I’m here” you squeaked as he pulled you down into his arms, his warm body and vanilla scent putting you at ease instantly despite the incessant rocking of the ship.

“You're here” he replied, words vibrating against your hairline before he tilted your chin up and stole your lips in a kiss. Just like he had stolen your heart.

“So you do that…yep and then you twist the stalk around…that’s it!!” You cheered as your son finally wrapped the flower correctly, his big blue eyes almost disappearing behind his lids as he squealed in excitement.

“What’s all the yelling about huh?” Steve emerged, tanned skin glowing, covered in a layer of sweat and dirt, an axe resting over his shoulder.

“Daddy look” your son preened, raising the bundle of blue flowers high in the air so the blonde could see.

“Ahhh is Mama teaching you her old tricks huh?” He smiled, kneeling to place a soft kiss on his forehead before doing the same to you.

“Mhmm gotta make sure he can help me every year, isn’t that right baby?” You plopped your finished flower crown onto Steve’s head before ruffling your son's curly locks.

Despite the running, the fighting and the endless struggle to get to where you were now, you could say you’d do it all again to be sat between your handsome husband and his doppelgänger son—in a field of blue daisies. You would do it all again to be home.

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except on this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes & Asks are always appreciated, although if you liked this fic please consider reblogging so it can reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what you read and give me motivation to write more.

Thanks for reading~

[biancadjarin]

eddie munson masterlist:

series:

kitten and eddie bear (mean!perv!eddie x innocent!fem!reader)

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4(coming soon)

you're all mine (blurb)

miss americana and the heartbreak prince (eddie x popular!fem!reader)

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3

head over (chanel) heels (eddie x spoiled!fem!reader x steve harrington)

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4(coming soon)

send me an angel (mean!eddie x bratty!henderson older sister!reader)

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3(coming soon)

oneshots:

waiting for a girl like you (stepbro!eddie x innocent!fem!reader)

a roll in the hay (perv!eddie x innocent!countrygirl!reader)

looked up at me with honor and truth (knight!eddie x princess!reader)

modern!eddie x waitress!reader (featuring modern!steve harrington)

halloween with eddie (eddie x fem!reader)

laying in bed with eddie thoughts

soft eddie thoughts

multipart (but can be read separately):

bully!eddie

cheater!eddie

stepbrother!eddie

perv!eddie

modern!fboy!eddie

other:

spicy X links🌽🔞

[just-aake]

Boundless Devotion - Part I

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Warnings: slight angst

Words: 1991

In the training yard of the castle, the sound of clashing steel fills the air as the Captain of the Royal Guard, Steve Rogers, faces off against the eldest princess and heir to the Romanov kingdom, Princess Natasha. 

The sun shines on the area as the two circle each other, carefully watching the other’s movement.

Surrounding them, some of the castle’s staff and the other knights pause in their activities to watch the match with anticipation. 

The captain lunges forward first, his polished sword gleaming in the sunlight. With a swift flourish, he aims a diagonal strike at her midsection.

In response, Natasha sidesteps the attack gracefully, her own blade moving smoothly to parry his sword.

The crowd watches with rapt attention as Steve continues to press forward with additional powerful swings, but the princess evades every strike, stepping as if she were dancing.

On a particularly powerful thrust, Natasha ducks under his attack, extending her arm to him. Then with a twist of her wrist, she expertly hooks her blade around his sword’s hilt and applies pressure. Using his momentum against him, she jerks the sword out of his grasp, sending it spinning through the air. 

The blade lands with a clatter several feet away.

Then in a swift and uninterrupted motion, she hooks her leg around the back of his knee, sweeping it out from under him. 

Her sword points at the captain’s chest in victory, ending the battle, as cheers and applause erupt around them.

With a quick twirl, Natasha holds her sword behind her before extending her hand to the captain. Steve gives her a grateful smile and takes her hand as she pulls him to his feet. 

He dusts himself off before giving her an exasperated look.

“Did you really need to show me up in front of my knights?”

Natasha gives him a smirk, replying.

“Well, I have to keep you humble.” 

Captain Steve Rogers was the one who trained her and her younger sister, Yelena, ever since they were little. Years later, they have both mastered their sword and martial arts skills, becoming one of the best in the kingdom.

Glancing around, Steve gives a stern look to the surrounding knights who rush to resume their training. When he turns back to Natasha, he nods in the distance.

“Looks like you have some guests, your Highness.”

Natasha brushes her hair out of her face, turning to look at the directed area.

At the edge of the training yard, she finds you standing alongside another noble, Lady Kate Bishop. 

Kate waves excitedly at her in greeting, and the golden retriever next to her also jumps in place, matching his owner’s energy.

Visits to the castle from the two of you were not surprising. With both of your noble families having prominent positions in the kingdom, it was natural that the four of you, including Yelena, would end up forming close bonds, having known each other since you were children.

Kate is Yelena’s closest friend while you are hers.

Well, you two used to be close.

However, ever since the incident last year on the night of her birthday, you’ve kept your distance from her, only seeing or talking to her when necessary. 

Even now, Natasha can see that the only thing holding you in place is Kate’s interlocked arm in yours.

Your body is turned towards the castle, and your eyes are looking everywhere else but her.

Natasha sheaths her sword at her side and walks over to the two of you. She is knocked back slightly when the golden retriever leaps at her in greeting, his tail wagging enthusiastically.

Natasha chuckles and pets his head, “Well, hello to you too, Lucky.”

Kate’s excited energy follows, moving closer, which in turn pulls you forward also. 

“That was amazing! You have to teach me that move!”

Natasha releases the dog with a final scratch before letting him return to his owner’s side. 

“I’m sure Yelena can show it to you the next time you two practice,” she tells her.

Kate nods to herself, reminding herself to ask the younger princess about it later.

Natasha turns to you, giving you a hopeful smile.

“How have you been, Y/n?”

You give her a slight bow in acknowledgment, your eyes still averted from hers.

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking, princess.”

Natasha's smile drops slightly at your neutral response. 

So far, her interactions with you have been like this, formal and distant, unlike the usual banter and casual teasing that typically characterizes your friendship.

Before she can ask anything further, Natasha notices a slight movement in your arm as you discreetly tug Kate, trying to get her attention. 

Kate turns to look at you in question and sees your pointed stare as you tilt your head subtly towards the castle.

Her mouth opens in realization, and she turns to Natasha apologetically.

“Oh, that’s right! I’m sorry, Natasha, but we have to get going. Y/n has a meeting with the queen.”

You are practically dragging her away as she finishes talking, offering Natasha a tight smile and a small farewell bow.

Natasha’s shoulders slump in despair as she watches you rush away.

It was disheartening to see her closest friend become almost like a stranger, but she can only blame that incident which caused this rift between the two of you. 

Sighing sadly, she pulls out her sword again and heads back toward the center of the area to resume her training.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha is practically sprinting to the dining hall with how fast she is walking through the hallways.

Guards and maids dodge out of her path as she rushes by, already understanding the need to hurry, judging by the time. 

As she approaches the entrance of the dining room, the guards open the doors for her to enter. Stepping into the room, she is immediately greeted by the queen’s reprimanding voice.

“You’re late, Natasha.”

Her mother, Queen Melina, sits at the head of the table while her father, King Alexei, occupies the opposite side. Yelena is positioned on the table's side facing her, subtly shaking her head in warning as her eyes gesture meaningfully toward their mother.

Natasha thinks back to how she spent the remainder of the day after her encounter with you, destroying the training dummies around the training yard in frustration.

By the time she realized how long she’d been training, the sun had already set. 

Deciding there was no point in making up an excuse, she settled with the truth.

“I lost track of the time,” she replies.

In response, Queen Melina nods at the chair closest to her, indicating for her to have a seat. 

When Natasha sits down, a member of the kitchen staff places a plate of dinner in front of her before stepping away.

In an attempt to break the tension, King Alexei claps his hands together and exclaims joyfully.

“Great, the family’s all here! Let’s eat!”

The members of the royal family start eating their meals, except for Queen Melina, who instead turns her attention to Natasha.

“I heard that you were at the courtyard today, training with the royal guards.”

“I was,” Natasha responds casually.

“What about your studies?”

“I already finished them all.”

“If you had told me earlier, I could have given you the next part of your lessons,” Melina admonishes before continuing her lecture. “You are about to be crowned soon as the next ruler of the kingdom. There’s always more that you can learn.”

A small snicker from Yelena catches Melina’s attention, causing her to direct her lecturing tone to the younger princess.

“And you should not laugh at your sister. At least she finished her studies. I heard that you didn't even show up for your lessons. Where exactly were you all day?”

Yelena shrugs nonchalantly before looking down next to her chair at the Akita dog eating from her bowl.

“Fanny wanted to go out for a run, so we spent the day out in the fields.”

At the sound of her name, the dog looks up attentively.

In response, Yelena gives her a gentle scratch on the head, before turning the dog's face toward her mother.

“You can’t say no to this face,” Yelena coos. 

Melina gives the two of them a deadpan look before shifting her gaze forward to her husband.

Alexei chokes on his food in slight panic when he realizes her attention has now turned to him.

“Our daughters have inherited your adventurous spirit,” Melina remarks accusingly.

“That’s my girls!” Alexei exclaims proudly before he catches the sharp glare from Melina. “I-I mean, girls, your studies and lessons come first. You know how important they are to your mother.”

Melina sighs defeatedly, shaking her head at his poor attempt at scolding. She returns her attention back to her eldest daughter.

“I have scheduled several meetings for you this week, Natasha. They’re with the daughters from some of the noble houses, so be sure not to miss any.”

Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Natasha brings her cup up for a drink as she asks for more information.

“What are the meetings for?”

“To find you a partner, of course.”

Natasha spits out her drink in surprise, coughing as she reaches for a napkin.

“Mind your manners, Natasha,” Melina chastises.

Ignoring her mother's reprimand, Natasha exclaims in outrage.

“Why am I looking for a partner?!” 

Unfazed by her tone, Melina answers her question with a serious expression, “Taking on the responsibilities of the kingdom is a lot for one person. You should have someone at your side.” 

Natasha makes a sound of disagreement and gestures at her in accusation.

“A couple of months ago, you told me that I was fully prepared to take over the throne,” she reminds her mother. “You’ve never mentioned that I needed to have someone back then!” 

“Well, that was before I realized that you have obviously made no attempt at looking for a potential partner. So I took the liberty to invite these lovely candidates to help you get started, and you will meet with them.”

Natasha huffs and crosses her arms, shaking her head in disbelief.

Seeing her reluctance, Melina continues, declaring, “If you cannot find someone by the time of your coronation, your father and I will choose one for you.” 

Natasha’s eyes widen, and her mouth hangs open in shock at her words.

This was not fair.

Throughout her life, her parents have never shown interest in her romantic relationships before. Suddenly, they decide that she is not capable of taking over the kingdom unless she has someone by her side. 

As Natasha tries to come up with a way so that she can get herself out of this situation, an idea comes to her mind.

“What if I’m already in a relationship with someone?” Natasha asks.

Three sets of eyes stare at her with varying looks of disbelief on their faces.

Yelena speaks up first, giving her a skeptical look.

“Nat, you’re popular throughout the kingdom, but the truth is, you spend more time with your sword than you do holding a lady's hand.”

Natasha subtly kicks her sister under the table in response to her comment, causing her to curse in pain. 

“Watch your language, Yelena,” Melina reprimands her before resting her clasped hands on the table and focusing on Natasha. “But she’s not wrong. I have not seen you romantically close with anyone,” she points out accusingly.

Without hesitation, Natasha smoothly lies, “We’ve been meeting in secret.”

Melina examines her critically, and she matches her mother's intense stare.

When Natasha’s gaze doesn’t waver, Melina relaxes her posture and relents. 

“Alright then, if you could tell me who you are in a relationship with, I will cancel all of the meetings.” 

The name rolls off naturally on her tongue before Natasha can even stop herself.

“Lady Y/n Dreykov. I’m in a relationship with Y/n.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

[nastybuckybarnes]

Kingdom Fall  -  Three

Pairing: Farmboy!Bucky X Princess!Reader

Summary: When an invading Kingdom forces you to flee your home, you find yourself stranded in an enemy kingdom on a farm, and the farmboy is nothing like you thought he would be.

Warnings: Violence, Angst, Fluff, Injuries, mentions of SA, Mentions of Murder, 

Word Count: 2.3K

A/n: baddaboom shes posting another one look at me go i havent posted this much in YEARS its so strange being back. As Lisa Rowe once said ‘its good to be home!’

~*~

You awake the next morning feeling peaceful and well-rested, a welcome ache between your legs that reminds you of the night prior. 

You reach across the bed, a smile finding your lips when you feel the warm body of the man beside you. 

Peeling your eyes open, you push yourself into a seated position and look at him with nothing but softness in your gaze. 

“Good morning,” he whispers, his voice thick with sleep.

You lean forward and place a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“Good morning to you,” you reply softly. 

You roll onto your side and lightly trace over the muscles covering his chest, content to spend this time with him.

As if hearing your thoughts, the Gods decide to shatter your peace. 

There’s a harsh knock on the door that has ice shooting through your veins. 

James’ eyes dart from you to the front door, and then he’s pushing to his feet. 

“Stay here,” he murmurs, tugging on his trousers and heading toward the door. He picks up his tunic along the way, but doesn’t bother fully buttoning it. 

You slowly rise to your feet and tug on your white slip, eyes darting around the room for your sword, only for you to realize that it’s currently in the kitchen, leaning against the wall. 

If you move quickly enough, you can grab it now and hide behind the wall before he gets the door open. 

With quick feet, you do exactly that, following silently after James and grabbing your sword, then pressing your back against the wall, out of sight. 

He pulls the door open, brows frown together. 

“I’m looking for a woman. Has she come by here?” A man asks. He wears the garb of a knight, though not one of this kingdom. 

James doesn’t know much about you, but he knows that he never wants to put you in danger. And if the man standing before him means to harm you, he won’t let that happen. 

“No, I apologize,” James says easily, going to close the door only for the blond on the other end to stop it with his foot. 

His eyes are trained on the daggers on the table. More importantly, the gems decorating the hilt. 

James follows his gaze, but by the time the pieces click in his mind, it’s too late. The stranger is forcing his way into James’ little house. 

“You have seen her. Where is she?” He demands, unsheathing his sword and aiming it at the brunet. 

James raises his hands in surrender, taking slow steps back. 

“I know not who you speak of,” he insists, though he feels increasingly nervous. 

“The woman of which those daggers belong. Where is she? I will not ask again.”

James stumbles over the uneven floors as the blond swipes his sword, falling to the floor as the blade bites into his bicep. 

“Then I suppose you will have to kill me,” He says simply, though his heart is in his chest. 

“No!” You exclaim, darting out from behind the wall and sliding between the men, sword raised right as the blond swings his down. 

The two swords clash and the brunet behind you winces at such proximity to death. 

The blond’s eyes widen at the sight of you standing before him in nothing more than your nightdress. 

“Princess?” He asks, withdrawing his sword immediately.

“You will fall back,” you command, rising to your full height and glaring at him. 

His brows pull together, and he looks at the man on the ground in confusion. 

“This man has lied about your whereabouts. He knows you are here, he cannot be trusted.”

“You will stand down. A life for a life, this man saved me. I owe him a debt.”

Steve glares at you and you match the look, not backing down. 

“I could order it,” you remind him, “though we are not on my land, you are sworn to obey me.”

He grinds his teeth together but slowly takes a step back, huffing out a breath of disbelief. 

“Go check to make sure you weren’t followed. Secure the area,” you order, turning your back to him to signal the end of the conversation. 

You reach for James’ hand and help him to his feet, watching as he and Steve face off for a long moment. You turn to the blond and quirk your brow at him, waiting for him to obey your orders. 

Finally, he turns on his heel and marches outside, mumbling profanities the entire time. 

You turn back to the brunet and inspect the wound on his arm, a frown on your face at the idea of him being hurt because of you. 

“Princess?” He asks, a little stunned at the fact that you didn’t tell him you’re royalty. 

You sigh and lead him by the hand to the bathroom to clean and dress his wound. 

“It's not deep. It should heal fairly quickly,” you murmur, cleaning the wound on his arm and avoiding his eyes as you prepare to tell him the complete truth. 

“I’m Princess (Y/n) of Aresia. The third Eldest of Queen Cathana.”

His brows pull together at your words.

“Cathana the Cruel?” He asks, to which you nod. 

“Mother has many names, that being one of her most famous. It was given to her many years ago after she slaughtered the family of a man who raped my youngest sister.” You slowly bring your eyes to his. “I do not think her to be cruel for what she did. I think she was merciful, and those people were lucky that my older sister and I were not permitted to seek justice.”

He nods, entranced by the passion and fire in your eyes.

“Your King,” you sneer his title, “stormed out Kingdom. Set fire to the Palace, to the village. His aim is to take what never was meant to be his. And so I ran. I fled the city under order of the Queen. All my sisters did. We were to flee in different directions. I know not if any of them have survived. Steve... the man at the door... he is sworn to me. He has sacrificed many things to serve the royal guard, to serve me. One of the only men to ever be trusted by the royal family.”

As you explain it, it all makes so much more sense. 

He should’ve known, really. Given your clothes and your weapons and the way you carry yourself. It should’ve been obvious to him. 

“I have spent the days learning the lands, reading the maps. My sisters have fled across the continent, but I intend to reclaim what is mine. I would like to find them along the way, but I know not for how long I will be safe here.”

James shakes his head, reaching for you once you’ve finished tying the fabric around the wound on his arm.

“I would never do anything to put you in danger, that you must know,” he says, his voice borderline desperate. 

A small smile tugs at your cheeks and you nod, reaching up to hold his face gently in your hands. 

“I know that, James. But it is not you who I fear. Not anymore. Now that Steve is here, it is only a matter of time before your King realizes at least one of the Princesses is alive. I would not be surprised if he had his men searching the forests and the villages for me as we speak. I have enjoyed our time together, but I cannot stay any longer.”

His hands come up to cover yours on his face.

“Then I will go with you.”

You chuckle weakly and shake your head.

“My path surely leads to battle. You are not a warrior, James. I cannot put you in that sort of danger.”

He shakes his head, “I can learn. Have Steve teach me. I will swear an oath to you if I must, but I will not let you walk into battle without me by your side. I will follow you if I must, but I... I've only just found you, (Y/n). I will not lose you so soon.”

Your heart is warmed by his words and you sigh softly. 

“I suppose it would be helpful to have another warrior alongside us on our journey. And you know the lands better than myself and Steve. But if you are to join us, you must obey my commands.”

A small smirk finds his lips and he kisses the inside of your wrist. 

“I think last night is a good demonstration of how good I am at following orders.”

Heat blazes in your core at the memory and you shake your head at him. 

“Right. I will go find Steve and inform him that he will be training you,” you whisper, pulling out of his grip and heading toward the door. 

You tug on your dress on the way, a million thoughts swarming through your head as you make your way toward the blond soldier scouting the perimeter of the farm. 

“Steve,” You call, jogging over to him when he stops walking. 

“Yes, Princess?”

You step in front of him, looking up into his blue eyes.

“That is not how I wanted our reunion to go,” you murmur, reaching for his hand and holding it tightly in yours. 

“And how were you expecting it to go?” He questions, a single eyebrow raised. 

You look up at him then lunge into his arms, wrapping yourself around him tightly. 

He stumbles back a step then falls onto his back in the grass, arms wrapping around your protectively, always protecting you. 

“You’re alive,” you whisper, holding onto him as if he’ll disappear in an instant. He chuckles softly and maneuvers the two of you into a seated position, pulling you onto his lap and holding you against his chest. 

“I made you a promise, Princess,” he reminds you gently, rocking you side to side. 

You slowly pull away and look into his eyes, a thousand questions racing through your mind.

“Have you heard anything of my sisters? My mother? Do you know if there are any survivors?” 

He sighs heavily, smoothing your hair away from your face with one hand.

“I know that several of your sisters have survived, and your mother is being kept alive within the Palace. I know not how many members of the guard have survived, but I know they are scattered throughout the tunnels beneath Aresia and the surrounding forests.”

A weight lifts from your chest and you hug him tightly again. 

“Then there is hope,” you whisper. 

He chuckles and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, “So long as you are alive, Princess, hope will remain alive with you.”

You walk the perimeter of the farm with Steve, discussing all that you have learned and what you have planned so far, and he shares with you the information he was able to gather.

There’s a gathering of warriors not far from James’ farm. Steve had spent some time with them while hiding from the Lornillian guards. 

You turn to the blond when you approach the small house, holding his hands tenderly between your own. 

“James has offered to come with us. To fight alongside us. I have agreed.”

Steve blinks at you then laughs as if you told the funniest joke in the world. 

“What use have we for a farm boy? I doubt he can even wield a sword.”

You smile up at him, “which is why you shall instruct him.”

Suddenly the situation is not so funny to Steve.

“Me?”

You nod, “yes, you.”

“But-”

“We will need every sword we have, Steve. He is strong, and he is willing to fight. He has... protected me... been kind to me. I will not order you to do it, but I will let you know that it would mean a great deal to me if you would.”

He watches you for a long moment with those endless blue eyes before huffing a sigh. 

“I almost wish you had ordered it,” he murmurs, opening the door to the house and motioning for you to go inside. 

You nod gratefully and enter, smiling warmly at James.

He looks between you and Steve for a long moment before dropping his eyes to his hands, suddenly not so sure of himself. 

It’s obvious that there’s a history between the two of you, and anyone can tell how much you mean to the blond by the way he looks at you. 

How can James ever hope to compare to this warrior? Someone so strong and so brave. Willing to fight for you and die for you.

“We will begin your training tomorrow. We will use wooden staffs... branches or anything of the sort. You must learn to wield a sword and take a hit. Once you do, we will begin combat.”

Steve turns to you after speaking, his eyebrows pulled together, “when do you want to make for the tunnels? Meet with your people?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip for a moment, trying to contemplate the timeframe before you.

The longer you wait, the stronger their army will be. But it could also grant you a stronger army in the process. Give your people more time to gather themselves, gather supplies.

The Lornillian army may have the upper hand of the Palace, but you and your people know the grounds, and that is something that will be key to reclaiming what is rightfully yours. 

“We will remain for one more moon cycle. Then we will leave.” You turn to James again, reaching for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You do not have to join us. You have a duty here,” you whisper, looking deeply into his eyes. 

He nods, a small smile on his face. 

“I now have a duty to you, as well, Princess.”

Steve watches the exchange, his stomach flipping with unease. 

He does not like the way the farm boy looks at you. 

No one should be looking at you like that. No one but him.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

alone together

pairing: knight!steven harrington x princess fem!reader

wc: 1.5K

warnings: none, a moment of sexual tension, but it's clean.

summary: a knight and a princess alone in a gallery staring at art. nothing more.

A/N: kinda 'inspired' by the daphne and duke scene from brigerton season1 in the art gallery and also the song from the unofficial musical. also I kinda would love to do more for this au, so if anyone likes they could request ideas. also this idea came to fruition cause I was staring at the birth of venus painting at work.

masterlist / steve harrington

the gallery was one of two places your parents allowed you to occupy without being watched by thirty people. that and the castle where you’re trapped behind layers of brick and armored knights. and honestly the gallery wasn’t much different, brick walls surrounded you but they were covered in hundreds of marvelous artwork over the centuries.

your eyes bore into the birth of venus, her dreamy gaze entrapping you while trying to ignore the burning stare from across the room.

“a beauty, is she not?” raising your voice to communicate with your guest.

gentle steps echoed off the walls, the faint clanging of metal followed. “a rare one indeed.” a shiver up your spine, you don’t believe he was talking about the art.

“how much do you know about art, sir harrington?” turning on your heel to face his direction.

he stood with his back straight, feet firmly planted on the wood flooring. he kept his right hand curled on the hilt of his sword with his left arm limp at his side. his cream tunic paired with a light blue vest fit him well, loose enough to be comfortable but tight enough where it hugged his muscles when fighting. the black trousers were also… well fitted. you had to fight your eyes to stay on his face.

he was too pretty to be a knight, at least in your opinion. sharp pointed nose, pretty pink smile, his gentle brown eyes that made your heart speed up. sometimes you catch yourself staring, noting all his freckles or how he runs a hand through his hair wishing it was yours.

a cough sounded off the walls causing you to startle slightly, blinking in rapid succession five times. sir harrington was closer now, hands held behind his back.

he peered at you with a conceited frown, “feeling well princess?”

licking your lips before taking a swallow, eyes to the ground. “apologies, sir harrington. i did not mean to ignore.” feeling bashful under his watch.

“‘tis alright, princess.” leaning down a bit to catch your eyes. “and please call me steven. sir harrington is too formal between us, don’t you think?” the last three words are almost a whisper, even with just the two of you in the large room.

curious eyes taking him in, his as well moving around before trailing down. unconsciously you took a deep breath causing your breast to inflate from the air and your attire. steven’s eyes stopped for a moment before quickly looking at your face then turning to the painting.

both facing the painting, side to side with a small gap keeping a respectable distance. steven’s hands hidden while yours fiddles over your stomach.

“please, do repeat yourself sir har- steven. i would like to hear your thoughts, steven.” liking the sound of his first name. “and you may call me, y/n. if you wish.” crossing that boundary most royals don’t.

looking at the knight just as he does to you, he flashes a charming smile. “i quite like calling you princess. y/n will be for… special occasions.”

the shivers returned. “and what might be a special occasion, sir harrington?”

he cocked a dark brown, “i’ll feel it.” before once again, glancing away first.

he was someone you were told to stay away from, not sir harrington literally, but someone with his aura. a devilish person with the charm to follow, but like a snake you followed the tune from the charmer.

“well then,” breaking away from his side profile, “how about you tell me your feelings on this painting.” head tilting to re-examine venus. “would love to hear your insight.” finding any excuse to hear him speak. voice rich and smooth like those of the finest silk draped over your bed.

he took a deep inhale through his nose, chest puffing from the action and it drew your eyes, lips parting with a short exhale. “the painting is exquisite.”

you couldn’t help the light laugh from your lips, “that is quite true, but what in this painting draws you in?” leaning your side closer towards his.

“well,” he took a side step into your lean, causing your shoulder to nudge his bicep, “her eyes. they hold something within them, almost pulling me into a trance. i could stare at those cherub cheeks for hours, feel weak in the knees when they puff up from her smiles. i bet it’s a wonderful smile, wish that was included.”

you hummed in agreement. her gentle face was painted with such thoughtfulness and care, you envisioned her lover painting her. taking all the time in the world to stare at his love, getting to memories every single part of her that he loves to worship in private and this is his way of showing her off to the world.

you smoothed your hands down the front of your dress, eyes going from her face to her body. “her body is a temple. i envy her.” hands down by your sides.

a sudden warmth radiated near your hand, you looked down to see steven had dropped his own arms. his knuckles barely brushing yours, it felt inappropriate without your gloves but it was just the two of you.

“why envy? you're just as beautiful as this goddess.”

a deep inhale, “she looks… comfortable in her curves and softness. and i stand before her in a tight cage beneath this fabric, ribs aching and- and breasts ready to pop free.”

your eyes widened and you covered your mouth with both hands as you turned to look at steven. he seemed indifferent, only a raise of his brows and what looks to a restrained smile or smirk.

“apologies, again. my tongue is quite loose today, my parents would have my head for such language from a princess before a gentleman.”

he shrugs, “i won’t tell. say whatever you may.” his boots side-step closer, leaning his head so his lips could ghost over your ear. “do you wish to be free from clothes or is it something… more for you?”

you clutched the fabric of your gown into a fist, “both. wishing i could feel free in my skin, not wanting to be dressed in all these jewels and pins stabbing into my skull for a delicate updo. and i wish i could be free from the title that’s been attached to me since birth. a title i don’t want.”

“and what do you want?”

a light gasp left your lips when you looked over your left shoulder to see steven standing behind you, his hands holding on your biceps. he leaned his chest into your back and his hands skim down your heavy limbs. your breathing got heavier as his hands slipped past your elbows and stopped at your wrist. your eyes were entranced at the veins under his skin and the length of his fingers.

“what is it that you want, y/n?” steven’s lips bump the shell of your ear. a gasp mixed with more filled the room, eyes fluttering at the sensation.

“i- i want… i want you. steven, i want you. you are all i want in this life.” pleading with the knight behind you, finally speaking those hidden thoughts.

“if i could, i would whisk both of us away, leave everything behind and just be with each other. no judging or hiding needed.” his lips pressed wet kisses upon the apple of your cheek to the point of your jaw. steven slipped his hands further so you were palm to palm as he interlocked your fingers together.

you turned your head, lips parting as you held eye contact with your fearless knight. his light brown eyes hypnotized you and pulled you into a fantasy that you never wanted to leave. they made you dream of waking up beside him in a small cottage hidden in the woods, not stressed with lessons or an entire kingdom sitting on your shoulders. you’d slow dance in your kitchen, read books or poems to each other, profess your undying love for each other over and over in the millions of ways you could think of.

you blink and you're back in the gallery, standing before venus and in the hold of knight steven. a loud banging resounded through the empty hall causing you both to flinch away. anxious hands smoothed out invisible wrinkles and steven swiped a hand over his hair, clearing his throat before calling out, “what is it?”

the door creaked open and another guard peeked their head in, a woman with short blonde hair. you quirked your head, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen her around before, you can only picture an image of her walking beside steven. you glanced over to him and he was smiling at the knight, “buckley. what’s the issue?”

“sorry for intruding, but the king and queen are requesting your return. both of you.” giving herself a slight rock on her feet.

“uh, thank you, buckley. round up the others, we’ll meet outside.” and she nodded to his commands, shutting the door behind her.

steven turned back to you, keeping a distance you hated, but knew was needed. you could see he hated the space as well but knew his duty came first, your safety came first. “don’t want to keep your parents waiting. hopefully we’ll visit again, and see more of the art housed here. just the two of us…”you dropped your gaze to your feet, hiding your smile, “i look forward to the day, steven.”

-

[deliciousangelfestival]

His Silly Princess | Bucky (Oneshot)

Character: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Words Count: 1,671

Summary: A modern royal love story. A naive princess who wants to get away from an arranged marriage. She never knew that her guard had loved her since the beginning. 

Main Masterlist || support me: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Zylovia is a country where monarchy still exists. It’s a developed country located near Western Europe. 

It’s a prosperous country, and the number of unemployed is also the lowest. Tourists love coming here for the casino, race car, and music festival. 

But this country has one outdated rule. It didn’t apply to the citizens. Only for the royal family. 

“If the female royal member marries a commoner, she will lose her status."

You learned that rule when you were 12 years old as the youngest siblings and Princess Zylovia. You didn't put a deep thought into it. 

But now, when you are almost 30 years old, and your older siblings are already married, you think this is good for you.

Because you realize you’re not fit to do the duty as a princess. 

Your oldest brother has prepared since he was a kid to be the king. When he reaches the age of 40, he will be crowned as the king. Your second brother will be the second commander in the military. 

While you have a job as a painting conservator at the museum, your duty as a princess is to welcome the official foreign guest at the castle. You learned some languages, but you’re not allowed to give any opinion on politics.

You don’t hate being a royal, but sometimes you feel like living in a golden cage. 

And finally, you had enough because, on your recent birthday, your parents talked to you about marriage. 

The king and queen don’t want to be separated from their youngest daughter, but they hint that they wish for her future husband from the royal circle. In other words: arranged marriage. 

You clenched your jaw while smiling at your parents. If the man from the royal circle is a real gentleman, you wouldn’t mind. 

But the problem is, please pardon the harsh language; none of the men from the royal family are your type. 

Your type of man must have a stable job, look good in suits, and have a nice body. 

That’s why, for a couple of days, you’ve made a list of potential future husbands. After you write it, you realize most of the men are from the knights. Perhaps because you always went to meet your second brother at the military training ground, so you know some people. 

Steve Rogers

[Friendly, not married, nerd, loves to paint like me]

Ari Levinson 

[Funny, beautiful hair, handsome]

‘Knock, knock!’ Suddenly, someone knocked on your door.

“Come in.”

You didn’t have to turn around to see who it was. You have known him for years, and your ears are familiar with the sound of his footsteps. 

The person who walked into your room has been your exclusive bodyguard for years - James Barnes, but you always call him Bucky his nickname. 

Bucky is a commoner and an elite soldier. If there’s a shooting competition, he will be in the top three. Your second brother always hates him. 

He has received many medals of honors, but he rejects a knight title from your father. You don’t understand why he declined the offer. If he received it, he could enter politics, and he doesn’t have to follow her around anymore. 

He’s tall, handsome, with perfect blue eyes and has fine muscles on his body. Bucky also has a primarily female fanbase when he wears the military uniform and rides a horse at the independence ceremony. 

He became a celebrity overnight.

But you have never seen or heard any rumor about him with a woman. 

“Your highness, in two hours you are going to attend the tennis tournament.” 

You dropped the pen and dropped your head to the table. “Urgh. Do I have to?”

Bucky chuckled when he saw you unwilling to go. One thing you hate about your duty is to be the guest at the tennis game. You prefer to watch the race car, but it's reserved for your brother's. 

Even though you didn’t want to go, you still dragged your feet to the dressing room to grab your coat. 

When you were searching for the right outfit, you suddenly remembered. “Oh no!” You didn’t hide the potential list that you just wrote. You wish you could dig your own grave and disappear. 

And you were right; Bucky saw your writing. He furrowed his eyebrows while he read your paper. “What’s this? Potential man for marriage?”

You stand beside him; you don’t know why you feel scared. This is the first time you have seen him like this. 

His slender, pointed fingers scratched the two names with his nails. There’s a big X on your paper. 

“Don’t marry any of those men.”

“Why?”

A small smile appeared on his lips, along with a soft voice, “Steve hasn’t moved on from his last girlfriend, and Ari, he loves to drink alcohol. I know you hate the smell of alcohol.”

You felt disappointed; you crumpled the paper and threw it into the trash.

“Marriage? Why all of a sudden?” There's an annoyed tone in his voice.

You rubbed your head and muttered, “I need to get married sooner, or my parents will arrange marriage for me, their friend's kid. And you know the truth, I had enough of being a princess.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “But, why them?”

“What?”

He clenched his fist; Bucky stared at her with an annoyed expression. “Why didn't you put me on the list?”

“....”

You waved your hand. “It doesn’t matter, as long as I got married.”

“So, would you like to marry me?”

Are you having hallucinations? Did Bucky just propose to you?

Bucky got on his knees. “Let’s get married.”

You still haven’t come to your senses. Bucky started talking again. “Think about it. Both of us have known each other for a long time. We’ve known each other's likes and dislikes. We’ve been through many things together.”

He’s right. He’s the safest choice if you want to marry someone. You shrugged your shoulders and accepted his hand. “Alright.”

Bucky's beautiful smile appeared on his face. Before he shook your hand, he felt you slightly pull his hand. When you saw him smile, your heart raced. “But, if in the end, we don’t like each other, please wait after three years, then we could get a divorce.”

Bucky chuckled; his attractiveness is not just in his physical appearance but also in his ability to manage his emotions gracefully and restraintfully. He leaned closer to you, and his hands gently grabbed your chin. 

As his calloused hand touched your skin, a subtle warmth spread on your cheeks. You could feel you're blushing. “Silly girl, it will never happen.”

#######

[Bucky P.O.V]

Then he rests your arms on his. “Then you have the excuse to skip the tournament.”

“Hmm?”

“We should inform this first to His Majesty and Her Majesty.”

“Oh, right.” You nodded, then looked straight into his blue eyes again. “This soon?”

********

When both of you walk through the hallway to meet the King and Queen, Bucky tries his best to calm down. He almost lost his common sense when he saw you write another man's name, and there’s a word of ‘potential husband.’

He looks at you and thinks ‘his silly princesses didn’t realize his feelings for her.’ 

Didn’t she know he declined the offer to be a knight so he could be her guard?

If he became a knight, he would work with her second brother. That’s the last thing he wants to do. 

“So, Bucky, don’t worry about money. When I resign as a princess, the kingdom will give us money.”

Bucky chuckled, seeing his sweet princess worried about their future, “That’s so sweet of you. But you don’t need to worry about that.” He gently patted her arms. He wants to tell you that he owns the famous casino in this kingdom and 5-star hotel chains in a few countries.

When both of you are married, Bucky will ensure you don’t have to work anymore. He is pretty sure that her parents will give their blessings even though he’s a commoner (and he’s super rich). The royal family has outdated rules, but because of it, he could marry you. 

Both of you arrived at the king's office room. The guards bowed their heads to greet you. Then you said, “Princesses Y/N and her guard. Wait… and her future husband, James Barnes wants to meet the king.”

The guards and the butler who opened the door lost their composure. They should have known from your body language walking here together hand in hand when usually Bucky always stands behind you. 

This news is shocking compared to the crown prince, who got caught partying too hard and the second prince, who had a messy love life before he got married. 

It seems like your father, the King, hears your voice. Before the castle butler tells him, you hear the gentle voice, “Come in.”

########

[2 years later]

<Former Princess of Zylovia Y/N, blessed with male twins>

It's the biggest headline in the country after you gave birth. You feel overwhelmed; you can't believe that you're parents now. 

The King and Queen hold your oldest son, while Bucky has the youngest son in his arms. 

Bucky's eyes are full of love, looking both at his sons. He was almost scared to death since you gave birth one month early. But the doctor assured both of you this is normal since you're pregnant with twins. 

Even though you're not a princess, you're still surrounded by your family. 

And Bucky still treats you like a princess. You almost lost your mind when he told you his business, which turned into your parents, and your brothers already know it, too. 

You want to knock your head; you didn't even know Bucky's business helped increase the country's GDP. 

Everyone said Bucky was the lucky guy to marry the former princess, but they were wrong. It's you who is lucky to marry him.

-End-

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[littlebabyyd0ll]

KINKTOBER DAY FOUR, TRICK OR TREAT

[i changed the plot after naming this fic, so it actually has nothing to do with trick or treating xoxo]

Your daddy takes you to a halloween party!

Daddy!Bucky x Little!Reader

Warnings: DDLG themes, lovesick Bucky, slight mention of troubled pasts.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist ! Kinktober 2023

On days like today, you feel like the most spoiled little girl ever. Days where you wake up in fresh sheets and next to the person that loves you the very most in the world. He treats you all day, kisses you awake and gets you dressed. Bucky’s a good man, a great man. Never once has he made you feel guilty or inadequate for all that he does for you, both as a boyfriend and as a caregiver. His heart is as big as the compound that you live in, and he reminds you every day that it is for you and you only. 

Your tortured pasts brought the two of you together, brought out his need to be relied on, to have someone to take care of, and brought out your need to feel tiny and helpless, to have someone to take care of you. 

You beam at him now, and he beams right back down at you. His hands are caressing your arms, slowly pulling down the sleeves of your princess costume into place. It’s pretty and pink, a shade like ballet slippers and decorated in the smallest, most minute of sparkles. He’s dressed you happily for halloween, a dress he picked out himself. Steve’s party was already in full swing, but he couldn’t help taking the extra time to make you look party-ready. 

He’s dressed up too, as a shining knight.

His costume is far more tacky and cheap, but he looks as handsome as ever. You squeal on the inside — you wish that you could convey the way that you feel when you’re in this headspace, when you feel this little. 

“Do you remember our rules, princess?” Your daddy asks, slowly spinning you around to lace up the back of your pretty pink dress. 

“We don’t talk to people we don’t know.” You recite, playing with your fingers slowly and idly. Bucky had spent the time painting them shimmering pink, even stooped your squirming so that they turned out perfectly. “Stay close to daddy the whole time. Ask daddy if I need anything.” 

He’s pleased, you can hear it in his tone. “And? One more, baby.” 

You wrack your brain for a moment, wriggling your toes in your frilly little socks. Then, it hits you like lightning, “oh! Gotta say thank you to Steve for having us.” 

“Good job.” Bucky muses, turning you back to face him. His hands can’t help but reach for your cheeks and squish them together, your puffy lips jutting out. “My best girl, huh? You’re such a good listener, baby, m’so proud of you.” 

You’re practically glowing. “Thank you, Daddy.” 

“You ready, sweet girl? Think you’ll be okay with Daddy and his friends?” 

You nod brightly and raise out a small hand. Your finger protrudes outwards and beacons Bucky’s to meet it. He does, of course, linking your fingers with a great smile. Your hand looks so small compared to his bionic one, and it’s so warm, warmer than you’d think. He’s all human, and all heart. 

He holds your hand as you enter Steve’s home, even keeps them connected when the blonde haired man brings him in for a hug. Your hands do lose their hold on one another when Steve’s arms swallow you whole, and when he holds you tight and lifts you up the ground. Steve’s love for you extends just as much as his love for Bucky — you saved his best friend, made his life all the more better. How could he not love you? 

Steve loves you in any way that you come, and when he sees the way that you grip tightly to your boyfriend and that wide-eyed look you hold, he knows that today is the smallest form of you that comes, and he couldn't be happier. The hug that he gives you is warm and all-encompassing. “My girl!” He sings out with a laugh, swaying you in his burly arms. The raven haired man watches you both with a smile on his face. “How’ve you been, huh? You been good for your daddy?”

“Uh huh!” 

“She’s always good.” Bucky insists as he takes you out of Steve's arms and plants you back onto the floor, where you instantly curl into his side. His warmth is brilliant compared to the late-october air. “My best girl, aren’t you, baby?”

“You want juice, honey, or some pop?” Your attention is stolen by Natasha, who opens her arms for a big hug. You tae her up on the offer, looking up for permission form your daddy to go and see the selection with Nat. Bucky gives you a nod and a kiss on the forehead, watching you go with a familiar look on his face. 

One of the upmost love, and upmost adoration.

The blond haired man watches the ordeal with a smile of his own. He chuckles, shaking his head, “She’s real good for you, man.”

“I know.” Bucky hums, watching you blush as Natasha compliments your princess costume and straightens up your tiara. He can just about make out you complimenting her kitty cat outfit over the music and chatter. “Best thing that ever happened to me.”

You don’t manage to thank Steve that night. 

Bucky carries you out of Steve’s home with his arm pushed under your butt and your tired arms loose around his neck. You’d been so good all night, obeyed by all your rules. You had stayed close to Bucky and his friends, answered all questions politely and even played board games with friends of friends. Your soul lights up the room, your giggle infectious and, just the same as every day, Bucky finds himself wondering how on earth he got to be so lucky. He’s lucky as your feet dangle around his hips and your drool dampens his shoulder. The play tiara is now sloped and wonky on your head, close to falling off. You look a bit of a mess, but the prettiest mess he’s ever seen. 

Bucky lifts your sleeping form out of the car with a grunt, and sighs when he gets through the front door. He might regret it in the morning, but he lays you in bed still dressed up in your little costume, but for now, he gets to stare down at you lovingly, in your purest form, and he gets to hear your beating heart. 

And for him, that is more than he could ever ask for.

[softestqueeen]

✧*̥˚ fic recs *̥˚✧

here are some of my favourite fics! here are all of the fics i regularly re-read and go back to!

i will be updating this list as i go!

if you see your works here and want them removed, please reach out to me!

disclaimer: they are ALL x reader *heavy sigh*

last update: 30/06/24

✧*̥˚ marvel/mcu *̥˚✧

loki laufeyson

burning words by @lokiprompts (angst/fluff)

the ceremony by @smolvenger (smut)

i want you by @lokigodofmyheart (angsty fluff)

statues by @sassypossumm (fluff)

enchanted by @fqreverwinter (fluff)

my attention by @seriiousgiirl (fluff/smut)

love story by @averagewriter-inthedark (headcanon/ fluff)

you can wrap me round your finger by @spookyrea (fluff)

lokis little witch by @vbecker10 (smutty fluff)

training blues by @jiyascepter (hurt/comfort)

running into trouble by @vbecker10 (angsty hurt/comfort)

gossip by @lokigodofmyheart (smut)

like a queen by @lokisgoodgirl (smut)

blue christmas by @mochie85 (smut)

what makes a princess by @muddyorbsblr (fluff)

lace and beads by @sarahscribbles (smut)

bucky barnes

breeding kink blurb by @buckyalpine (smut)

pick me by @buckyalpine (angst & hurt/comfort; fluff)

drabble by @buckyalpine (smut)

please can i hold you? by @itsthewritergal (hurt/comfort)

one shot by @buckyalpine (angsty fluff)

a forbidden invitation by @thevillainswhore (smut)

wanda maximoff

good morning ࿏ wm by @themidnightcrimson (smut)

natasha romanoff

one for the road by @elaci (fluff/smutty)

stephen strange

my doctor by @withalittlehoney (fluff)

good girl by @futureplayboibunnie (smut)

his medicine by @ironstrange1991 (fluff/smut)

the goatee problem by @ironstrange1991 (fluffy drabble)

you're my comfort by @ironstrange1991 (fluff)

bucky barnes & steve rogers

accidents happen by @myfictionaldreams (fluff, smut, hurt/comfort)

adventures of amy series by @girlygirl14534

miguel o'hara

all brawn by @luvrxbunny (smut)

hot and bothered by @spiderlyla (fluffy smut)

bruce banner

cuddles are the cure by @late-to-the-party-81 (fluff/comfort)

steve rogers

tomorrow by @writtenfangirl (fluff)

here for you by @elixirfromthestars (hurt/comfort)

✧*̥˚ bbc sherlock *̥˚✧

sherlock holmes

sidewalks of london by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (fluff)

the london eye by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (fluff)

hold me by @fallingforunrealisticromance (fluff)

brother dearest by @starks-hero (fluff)

a single touch by @bakerstreethound (smut)

safe in your arms by @classickook (fluff)

too good to be true by @teigo-the-explorer (fluff)

let the light in by @starssaroundmyscarssblog (fluff)

dear jealousy by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (fluff)

a case of mistletoe and presents by @bakerstreethound (smutty)

✧*̥˚ call of duty *̥˚✧

könig

sugar daddy!könig by @yawnderu (smut)

pornstar!könig by @yawnderu (smut)

simon "ghost" riley

soft-tummy simon riley by @lovelyghst (fluff)

pornstar!Ghost by @shotmrmiller (smut)

drabble by @xiamentshoneypot (fluff)

wife of ghost by @august126 (smut)

✧*̥˚ harry potter *̥˚✧ *heavy sigh* i know

george weasley

the stolen sweater by @mayraki (fluff)

put your head on my shoulder by @weelittleweasley (fluff)

✧*̥˚ actors/actresses*̥˚✧

tom hiddleston

in too deep by @thefaefiction (smut)

✧*̥˚ criminal mind*̥˚✧

spencer reid

be my angel by @nereidprinc3ss (angsty fluff)

smut imagine by @minswriting

✧*̥˚ authors*̥˚✧

here are some of the authors i love to read and i always go back to!

@ironstrange1991 (stephen strange) her masterlist

@buckyalpine (bucky barnes) her masterlist

@luvrxbunny (bucky barnes, miguel o'hara, moon knight, joel miller) her masterlist

@fettuccin-e (oscar isaac & pedro pascal characters) her masterlist

@bakerstreethound (sherlock holmes) their masterlist their masterlist 2.0

@withalittlehoney (stephen strange) her masterlist

@melodygatesauthor (moon knight & miguel o'hara) her masterlist

[chrissdollie]

♡.˚ ୨୧ ｡˚ ♡.˚ boyfriend best friend - bsf!chris x reader

a/n: @sydneysturniolooo, sorry for getting this out so late :c and a special thank you to @imtalkinnonsense and @thebottledwatersupplier for beta reading :)

summary: your best friend chris doesn't understand boundaries, but neither do you. sometimes he feels more like a boyfriend than your actual bf.

warnings/notes: cursing, established relationship with an oc (steve), bsf!chris, ur kinda oblivious, lowercase intended, mentions of sex wc: 1.3k

this party bites. you stand next to your boyfriend in the kitchen, holding an almost empty red cup. his arm is wrapped around your shoulders as he converses with some friends. you boredly swish your drink around in the cup awkwardly. the music playing isn't your taste and you'd much rather be at home with your boyfriend, steve, in your bed where you're comfortable.

your empty hand fidgets with the bottom of your pink skirt, waiting for the trite conversation to wrap up. your disinterested stare picks up from the floor when you hear your name being called by the one voice you can have true fun with. your eyes brighten almost immediately, a toothy smile forming on your face. a dopey grin plastered on his, he waves his hand as he makes his way over to where you stood.

steve's discussion comes to halt when he scoffs at the boy's appearance. chris doesn't even spare him a glance. instead, he gives you a kiss on the cheek as greeting, swatting away steve's arm from where it was resting. you kiss back, your lipgloss leaving a small sticky stain on his left cheek. "hey chris! uh, you remember steve." you smile and turn to your boyfriend who simply nods in greeting. chris' smile falters a little, just a little. he chuckles, "yeah, hey big guy."

his eyes turn back to you, then down to your cup. he grabs it from you, holding it out to steve. "her drink's almost done. go get her a refill, man." steve lets out a small exasperated sigh, taking the cup and muttering, "i'll be right back." chris gives a fake smile as he watches him leave with his buddies. "take as long as you need." he exclaims, winking.

you lean against the kitchen counter. "sooo, i thought you weren't coming..?"

he coughs, scratching the back of his head, the bottom of his black tank lifting up with his arm. "err- well, matt told me you were going. and we haven't hung out in like a week so yknow.." you nod along. he chuckles, shaking his head before continuing. "you looked like you were fucking dead anyhow. thought i'd be your knight in shining armor." he jokes, casually ruffling your hair.

you groan, "ugh, yes, thank you. steve's friends aren't exactly my type of people, i guess." you laugh dryly. he nods along, looking at you up and down. "well, princess, you look fabulous, as always." he compliments your simple look with a soft boyish smile. you sweetly return his smile and reply, "thank you" in a shy tone.

"yknow," chris leans against the counter so he's right next to you, his shoulder just barely brushing against yours. your head turns, watching him as he looks down at his dirty sneakers. "it's been like what- a week since you and i hung out? what're you doin' after the party?" he lifts his head to look into your shameful eyes.

"'m goin' on a date with steve.. 'm sorry."

chris chuckles in response with his eyes widening curiously. ”a date?? oh sweet, are you guys finally going somewhere besides Denny’s?” he smirks. you purse your lips, seeing steve walking towards you guys. you turn back to chris' waiting eyes. you shrug, mildly embarrassed. "we're just going for ice cream." pfft, as if it's any better than denny's.

he lets out a clearly not surprised "oh" as soon as your boyfriend stops right infront of you. he holds out the red cup to you. "here, babe." you take it and thank him before looking into the cup unsuspectingly. you clear your throat. "oh um.. this isn't punch?" you look up with a confused frown, in search of an explanation.

he nods slowly. "yeah.. i just thought maybe you'd like to try-"

chris' laugh cuts him off. steve turns with a raised eyebrow. before he can even ask what's so funny, chris holds up his hand. "try? she doesn't drink, moron." he snatches the cup out of your hand, not breaking eye contact with your boyfriend. you swallow hard. "it's okay.. really it is, but yeah, i don't think i wanna.."

steve rolls his eyes. chris scoffs, pouring the drink out into the sink next to him. your boyfriend simply folds his arms, unfazed. "fine, whatever." he grabs your chin. "they're setting up the kegs in the back. come watch me, kay?" he kisses your lips gently, not even giving you time to respond. he smiles and walks to the backyard.

"that shit is so immature." your best friend giggles, his small silver hoops swinging from his ears as he laughs. you let out a small sigh. he hums, "hey." he gets off the counter, bringing his hands up to cup your face. you giggle against his veiny hands. "how are you, peach? you good?" he asks in a serious voice, not playing around about your well-being. you blink slowly, your eyelashes prettily fluttering. "'m good." you whisper.

he raises both eyebrows. "this baboo- uh, is he making you happy? and no horseshit."

"yeah." you blandly respond with squished lips from the pressure. he drops one of his hands to his side. you lean into the one left on your face, your eyes shutting tiredly. he stares at you for a few seconds like you're an angel sent from heaven just for him. he's fighting the urge to kiss your glossy pout because he then remembers steve's waiting for you.

"ya guy's waitin', ma." he reminds you, tapping your cheek. you open your eyes and nod quickly. you grab your hand and begin walking to the backyard, pushing past the people with a quiet "excuse us" as you drag chris through the house.

minutes later, you're sitting on the grass criss crossed next to chris. your boyfriend stands in front of one of the kegs as he gets hyped up by his group of friends. someone yells out, "remember the rules, boys," and explains the rules quickly. "alright, 3... 2... 1!"

you don't really pay attention to who's winning as you rest your head sleepily against chris' shoulder. his arm wraps around you, his fingers playing with your gorgeous hair. you blink slowly, trying to stay awake. but it's hard since you're so comfortable in chris' embrace. you wanted to mention something that's been on your mind before drifting off.

"yesterday he told me to have sex with him." you mumble loud enough so only chris could hear. he can't help but let out a chuckle. he readjusts himself to look down at you. "so.. was he good?" he wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, though he knows you wouldn't. not his precious angel.

you roll your eyes with a grin. "i told him i wasn't ready. then he got all upset. i dunno why, i've told him multiple times that i'm not ready. he's just so impatient." you whine at the end. you look ahead as people cheer and smack steve's opponent on the back. clearly your boyfriend lost, anyone could see by the annoyed look on his face. you scrunch up your nose at the sweat and beer dripping from his mouth down to his chest.

chris hums, still twirling a piece of your hair with his long fingers. "he just has to deal with it. tell him to watch porn or somethin'."

you laugh, but it stops when steve glares your way. or more so, chris' way. you cough and sit up, brushing some grass of your skirt. chris turns his head towards him and rolls his eyes. "dunno why he gets so pressed all the time. you and i've been friends for years so what the fuck is his deal?"

you hum quietly, shrugging carelessly. chris sucks in a breath for a moment, hesitating on asking you a question. he sees steve walk back inside with his group, probably going to get even more shitfaced. but thats not his problem. a few seconds of silence pass before chris decides to speak up. "well, if you like.. weren't totally comfortable doing it with him, you could with me?"

your eyebrows raise as your eyes widen. he raises his hands up in defense, "nonono, not like in a weird way." he chuckles dryly. "it'd just be so you're prepared, yknow? and anyhow, he doesn't know you're a virgin soo.."

he does raise a good point, you must admit. you twirl a piece of your hair in your manicured fingers, biting your lip softly. he is an experienced guy, you know from all the stories he told you at your sleepovers. but what if you don't wanna have sex with chris just for steve's benefit? you innocently lick your lips before looking into your best friend's stunning blue eyes.

tags!! <3 @leah-loves-lilies @imtalkinnonsense @stargirlsturniololover @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee @freshsturns @emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668

[random-fandom1984]

MASTER LIST

Request are open!

ALLOWED:

●Fluff ●Yandere ●Angst ●Crossovers ●Character x Reader ●Character x Character ●References to other fandoms ●Comfort ●Headcanons ●Reader/Character from one dimension/universe getting sent to a different one (tfp x tfa, trollhunters x zak storm, etc)

●others to be added

NOT ALLOWED:

●NSFW ●Pedophilia ●Incest ●Certain sensitive topics (rape, abuse, etc) ●Other's OC's (I don't have the confidence to do that)

I also have a master list of poems I'm making

Poems Master List

FANDOMS

Transformers

Tfa:

General: - Predacon! Reader in TFA

Optimus Prime - Wattpad Story: Deadly Voice - Yandere! TFP! & TFA! Optimus x Chubby! Gn Reader Ratchet Prowl Bumblebee Bulkhead Jazz Jettwins Ultra Magnus Megatron Starscream (+clones) Lugnut Blitzwing Blackarachnia/Elita-1 Grimlock Wreck-Gar Soundwave Longarm Prime/Shockwave - All It Takes Is A Potion to Show How Much I'm Obsessed With You Wasp/Waspinator

Tfp:

Optimus Prime - Yandere TFP! & TFA! Optimus x Chubby! Gn Reader Ratchet Arcee Cliffjumper Smokescreen Bumblebee - Bumblebee x SG! Cybertronian Reader Bulkhead Wheeljack Ultra Magnus Megatron - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Starscream - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Soundwave - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Shockwave - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Predaking - Decepticons Meets Sparklings 5t3v3(Steve) - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Knockout - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Breakdown - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Dreadwing - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Arachnid Unicron

Tfe

Optimus - Sparklings Megatron - Sparklings Bumblebee - Sparklings Elita-1 - Sparklings Soundwave - Sparklings Shockwave - Sparklings Tarantulas - Sparklings Terrans(PLATONIC ONLY) Swindle Starscream

Tfg1

Optimus Prime - Calling Optimus Prime Dad Prowl Jazz Bumblebee Ratchet Megatron Starscream Skywarp Thundercracker Reflector Soundwave - Soundwave x Cybertronian Reader Part 1 -Clinging to Sanity or Embrace the Fantasy (Yandere! Platonic! Soundwave + teenager! Reader) Shockwave Grimlock Unicron Other Autobots and Decepticons

Tfbw

Optimus Primal Rattrap Rhinox Cheetor -His Sea Goddess (Cheetor x Cybertronian Reader with an Octopus alt-mode) Dinobot Megatron Tarantulas Waspinator

Tfrid2015

Bumblebee Sideswipe Strongarm Fix-it Grimlock Drift Steeljaw Thunderhoof Fracture Underbite Saberhorn

TF1

Orion Pax/Optimus Prime D-16/Megatron B-127/Bumblebee Elita-1 Starscream Soundwave Shockwave Sentinel Prime

LEGO MONKIE KID

Mk Mei Red Son Jin & Yin Spider Queen Azure Lion Macaque Sun Wukong Nezha Syntax Huntsman Goliath (Strong Spider) Peng Lady Bone Demon Not Mayor

ZAK STORM

Zak Storm (PLATONIC ONLY) Cece Crogar Clovis (PLATONIC ONLY) Caramba (PLATONIC ONLY) Calabrass (PLATONIC ONLY) Golden Bones

Trollhunters/3Below/Wizards

Angor Rot Gunmar Bular Aaarrrgghh Blinky (Blinkous) Nomura Draal Krel Tarron & Aja Tarron (PLATONIC ONLY) Varvatos Tronos Madu Zadra Zeron Alpha Nari Skrael Bellroc

Cookie Run Kingdom

Gingerbrave (PLATONIC ONLY) Wizard Cookie (PLATONIC ONLY) Strawberry Cookie (PLATONIC ONLY) Custard Cookie Ⅲ (PLATONIC ONLY) Chili Pepper Cookie Licorice Cookie Poison Mushroom Cookie (PLATONIC ONLY) Dark Choco Cookie Red Velvet Cookie Pomegranate Cookie Dark Enchantress Cookie Pure Vanilla Cookie White Lily Cookie Hollyberry Cookie Golden Cheese Cookie Dark Cacao Cookie Princess Cookie (PLATONIC ONLY) Knight Cookie (PLANTONIC ONLY) Caramel Arrow Cookie Crunchy Chip Cookie Affogato Cookie Captain Caviar Cookie Black Pearl Cookie/White Pearl Cookie Shadow Milk Cookie Mystic Flour Cookie

Others to be added

Adventure Time: Fionna & Cake

Fionna Cake (PLATONIC ONLY) Gary Marshall Lee Scarab Prismo Simon (PLATONIC ONLY) Marceline (Vampireworld version) Bonnibell Bubblegum (Vampireworld version)

WHEN REQUESTING (More rules will be added later):

●Include the fact whether or not your request is platonic or romantic; If romantic, is Y/n or character in a relationship, and if not, who is the romantic interest(s)?

●Give me some of the plot of what you're thinking for your request. If you don't, and I don't know what you want it to be about, or I can't think of what to make up- Example:

Optimus x Reader. Angst. Reader is male.

I don't know what the plot should be, or what it should involve. Like, if it's good enough that I can think of what it could be, then yeah, sure, but that will be a rare chance with me. But if it's like this- Example:

Aaarrrgghh x Reader. Comfort. Basically, the reader has had a bad day at work/school, and the two of them just cuddle and enjoy the silence in each other's arms, slowly falling asleep.

Then I will be able to think of how it can go because you gave me what you want to include in your request, but now how, I will be able to get behind that.

● I can make the reader be based off of another character, like- Examples:

-Vox! Reader in Trollhunters

-Reader as Ratchet's little sister in Transformers: Generation 1

Anything! Whatever you want as long as it's allowed.

●If your request involves something that isn't allowed, then it will be ignored.

That's everything for now! Request away!