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onceuponastory · 1 year ago

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last stroke of midnight - bucky barnes x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it that obvious?”

“A little.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She was. She really was.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What time is it?”

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

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

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

But she can’t take that risk.

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

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

“I’m sorry Bucky.” She whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isn’t it?

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

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

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

“Your Highness?” The Captain asks.

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

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

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

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buckybarnesevents · 1 year ago

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𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞-𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭

𝐎𝐍𝐄 | 𝐓𝐖𝐎 | 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 | 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 | 𝐒𝐈𝐗 | 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

C4031 ⋆｡°✩ THEEMDASH

@theemdash

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 ��𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺. ♡

C4032 ⋆｡°✩ GIFTEDYOUNGSTER3000

⭑⋆⭑ A WAVE OF FLAMES

C1 | First Responder AU

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑ PRE GAME

C2 | Hockey AU | Hockey!Bucky Barnes x Reader

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑ Stay with me

C3 + C4 | Dad’s Best Friend + Adrenaline AU | Bucky Barnes x Reader

TUMBLR

C4033 ⋆｡°✩ SUNALSO

@sunalsolove

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺. ♡

C4034 ⋆｡°✩ ONCEUPONASTORY

@onceuponastory

⭑⋆⭑ a true hero

C1 + C2 | Mythology + Royalty AU | Blacksmith!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑ heartbeats

C3 | Nurse AU | Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Doctor!Female!Reader

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑ last stroke of midnight

C4 | Fairytale AU | Prince!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

TUMBLR

C4035 ⋆｡°✩ ACTUALALLIGATOR

@actualalligator

⭑⋆⭑ Whenever I Fall (at your feet)

C1 + C2 + C3 + C4 | BDSM + Modern + Hospitality + Tattoo Shop | Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

AO3

C4036 ⋆｡°✩ ASWRITTENBYAJ

@aswrittenbyaj

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺. ♡

C4037 ⋆｡°✩ THEMORNINGSUNSHINE

@themorningsunshine

⭑⋆⭑ Be My Muse

C1 | Artist AU | Aritst!Bucky Barnes x Reader

TUMBLR

C4038 ⋆｡°✩ INDYLUCKYCHARLIE

@indyluckycharlie

⭑⋆⭑ On the Verge

C1 | Adrenaline AU | Modern!Bucky Barnes x Reader

TUMBLR

⭑⋆⭑ Play Back

C3 | Modern AU | Bucky Barnes x Reader

TUMBLR | AO3

C4039 ⋆｡°✩ CHRISSIHR

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺. ♡

C4040 ⋆｡°✩ C4MUFFINENGINEER86

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺. ♡

Graphics & Masterlist made by @rookthorne / @rookthornesartistry

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x steve rogers #stucky #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes event #bucky barnes fanart #bbe #alternate juneiverse 2023 #connect4au #alternate juneiverse #bucky barnes events

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tharros-auris-black-asimi · 3 years ago

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Breathin

Pairing: Prince Bucky Barnes x Princess Reader

Summary: As the wife of the Crown Prince of Russia, James Romanov, your life is certainly very interesting. You love everything at the palace. However, your new husband is a real piece of work.

Warnings: This story takes place in an advanced kingdom society. So, royalty is still a thing. Think Wakanda, but for the rest of the world. Some mild asshole!Bucky. This story also has a physically disabled Reader, so some mild ableism and misogyny will be thrown around in this fic. Wayyy too much smut. Oral, fem, and male receiving, (with the male receiving in a library, so semi-public blowjobs, I guess?), rough sex with some anal fingering, as well as the lovemaking towards the end having the use of restraints and a gag, although not for kinky purposes.

If there are any warnings I missed, please let me know!

Additional Notes: This one-shot was originally going to be a part of my Royalty!Bucky fic in a series I'm doing over at my AO3, but when I started mapping out Bucky's story, I found that there wouldn't be a place for it, because it wasn't all that important. So instead, you can view this as a deleted scene, or just a little detour. I do have my Royalty!Steve fic on my AO3, although I am hesitant in putting it on here as well, as I don't know what the reaction will be. If you'd like for me to also put my Royalty!Steve fic on here as well, let me know in the comments, reblogs, or slide into my DMs! Any and all feedback is encouraged.

As always, if you'd like to read Breathin on my AO3, you can read it here.

Word Count: 7,924

“Are you ready for today, my Queen?”

“I’m not a Queen yet, Monica.”

All Monica Rambeau did was give you a snicker. It seemed your personal maid liked teasing the idea of you being queen one day. You were married to the Crown Prince of Russia, James Romanov, after all. It had only been a month since the wedding, and you were still overwhelmed with the Crown Prince just as you had been when the two of you had first met at the gathering a few months ago.

“I know,” the African-American woman replied, “I just love the idea. You’d make a great queen.”

Yes, you thought sardonically to yourself, because I can’t do anything else.

You couldn’t fight. Command armies. None of that sort. You couldn’t run too much.

Because of your physical disability, you couldn’t do many physical activities. A limit, one could say.

Walks were okay. Hikes, you needed to pace yourself. A break here and there. Any long-form physical activity, your parents often limited.

You missed your parents so much.

And alright, Magda wasn’t your real mother. But you considered her your real mother. She raised you, after all. After your birth mother died and your father had remarried, Magda had been your mother ever since. She was a mother in every sense of the word. No ifs, ands, or buts. None. Nada.

Your parents had shown you love and allowed you your own space growing up. You loved Wanda and Pietro. Hell, you had even learned ASL when Pietro had gotten into that accident that made him lose most of his hearing. You missed your family. Ever since the wedding was over, they didn’t stay long. They had duties to do, people to see, a country to look over. They promised that they would keep in contact, though. A call once a week. Possibly once a month.

It wasn’t like you hated living in Russia. It was a walkable country. You liked walking around the castle grounds in the morning. The birds would chirp, and you would be able to get some fresh air before heading back inside and doing your daily duties.

So it wasn’t all terrible. You liked everyone in the castle. Rebecca and Natalia were very nice. They reminded you of Wanda. Fun, easy-going, very sassy. The three of you hung out as much as the three of you could, every day. Rebecca had her own lessons going on with her governess, Carol Danvers. And Natalia had her own things to do as Crown Princess. The second-in-line for the throne. In case there were something to happen to you or your now-husband, Natalia would take over as Queen. Not that you were a self-doubter of her skills. She could rule much better than you ever could. You were not all that confident in your skills.

Not really.

“What’s on the agenda today?” You asked Monica as she helped you dress. Grabbing the hairbrush that was on your vanity, Monica began to brush your hair as she answered you. “His Highness is going to meet with General Hammer this morning. And the locals would love to meet you, Your Highness. Perhaps a trip into the city?”

You couldn’t help the smile that was creeping on your lips.

“I heard the library is very nice. Is there any time for us to squeeze in a reading? Maybe with the children?”

The corners of Monica’s lips curled up into a smile. Finished with brushing your hair, she put the brush down after getting rid of the excess hair, throwing it in the trash can.

“I’ll see what I can do, Your Highness.”

With Bucky, a bit later…

He was getting agitated.

Irritated.

Angry.

Pissed off.

Annoyed.

All those words and more could dictate his current feelings.

Because as he sat down with General Justin Hammer, the Crown Prince of Russia was beginning to narrow his eyes.

Dressed in the usual black and red colors of the Ancient and Noble House of Romanov, completed with the smaller, but still regal crown that proclaimed him as Crown Prince, Bucky spoke.

“General Hammer… I believe we can reach a civil agreement with New Zealand. The queen and I are very civil with each other. I believe a discussion will do our current situation just fine. As for Great Britain, they have always been our allies. I know Queen Margaret Carter personally. I will talk to her as well.”

General Justin Hammer of America was resisting the urge to scowl.

Or maybe throw a fit.

Why was this metal-armed man, wearing the royal garb of the King Father and Queen Mother ordering him around? Telling him what to do?

Oh right.

Because the unfortunate young prince who had lost his left arm from a war a couple of years ago, James Romanov, was the Crown Prince. And the superior in this country. James Romanov was the Prince. And therefore, held a higher position than him. Why the King Father and Queen Mother allowed this cyborg into society baffled him. James was like a fuse, just wanting to be blown. A ticking bomb. Justin hadn’t seen the ends of James’s temper. He didn’t know what the Crown Prince could do. Would do.

James Romanov had a way with people. When he spoke, people listened. When he walked into a room, everyone knew who to look to. He commanded rooms without even having to raise his voice. Hell, when he spoke, he didn’t need to raise his voice. He was the General of the Army of Russia. People respected him. Did some worship the ground he walked on? Sometimes. It made him uncomfortable sometimes. Uneasy.

Back when he had been growing up, his father had handed him a sword and a spear and told him, “We serve our people, yes? These are our people. They depend on us. They will depend on you when your mother and I will no longer cease to be here. You have a responsibility, James. One day, you will sit where I will sit. One day, you will have children. Soon, your children will sit where you will sit. You will be a king. You will serve your country.”

And he did. He had been sent to the military academy with all the other young boys of Russia and served his country. Now he was the General. Not just the Crown Prince of Russia. He served his country. He was loyal to his country. He had even sacrificed his own left arm for his country.

Bucky couldn’t help but see his wedding ring on his finger. Just out of his eye. It glimmered. Shone. Reminded him that he was no longer a free spirit. A man who could whore around. He was tied down now. He was now your husband. You were his wife.

Everything was different now.

So different.

But it wasn’t like the marriage was all that bad. Sure, you had a mouth on you. You were a mouthy creature. Why his own mother had decided to bless upon him a mouthy, sexy creature like you, Bucky would never understand.

Women worked in mysterious ways.

A knock on the door made both of the men pause.

“Come in.”

The door opened, revealing Monica on the other side. She curtsied to her Crown Prince in respect.

“Her Highness told me to tell you that she plans to go into town today. Sam and I will be accompanying her.”

“Is her bodyguard going to go as well?’

Right.

Clint.

Clint Barton had been hired by your parents before the Maximoff family had come to Russia. You liked Clint. He had been in your family’s service for a while. He was deaf, like Pietro. He wore hearing aids in his ears after the accident that cost him eighty percent of his hearing. And, he also used sign language to communicate. Luckily for the family, you all knew sign language. So it was a no-brainer.

“Yes, Your Highness. Clint will be accompanying us on the trip.”

At least Bucky didn’t have to worry about it on that end. At least, Sam and Clint were going to be there with you while you went into town.

“How long will you be going outside?”

To that, Monica might’ve faltered a bit. Just the slightest bit.

“I… she didn’t say how long, Your Highness. Perhaps a few hours of fresh air?” was what Monica managed to reply.

“Alright. Anything else?”

“No, your Highness.”

“Dismissed.”

Monica curtsied one more time before leaving the room, the door closing quietly behind her.

His wife.

You.

His little, mouthy wife seemed to be arguing with him at every turn. Every time he snapped at you, you snapped right back at him. Always having something to clap back with.

Like last night.

“Are you just going to keep staring at me?”

From where Bucky was, he looked at you. You were looking at him.

And then you began to slowly scowl.

You weren’t going to admit it, but you were horny.

You needed him.

Badly.

You didn’t know what had caused these newfound feelings to bubble up inside of you.

It was like your damn wedding night all over again.

Stupid.

It was stupid, what these feelings were.

You didn’t like him.

You swore you didn’t.

You knew he didn’t like you. Bucky had made that clear. He hadn’t wanted this marriage at all. Neither had you. The two of you were strangers. Not at all like Steve and Mrs. Rogers. The two of you hadn’t met at a freaking wedding and hit it off immediately because the two of you were friendly towards each other.

No.

Instead, the two of you had met because your mother wanted you to get married. To secure alliances. To do your duty. No matter how much you hated it. You were the eldest daughter. Marrying you, securing an alliance with Russia and Transia was what had needed to be done. Now, with the rings on your fingers, it had been done.

“I know you need something. Tell me what you need.”

And when he spoke in that voice, that deep, rich voice had resonated within you, made your body burn, made your body hum with need, you hated it. Hated what he could do to you with such sweet, short, and simple words. For a moment, you had that passing thought that crept into your mind that your husband might actually care for you. That he actually liked you and didn’t just pretend to, or just put up with you because you two were married. In every sense of the word.

“I don’t need anything.”

Bucky put his book down. From where he was, sitting at the little table near the window where you frequented in the late afternoon, he got up. As he walked closer to where you were in bed, he could see through the transparent fabric of your nightgown. The little inches of smooth skin showing themselves to him as you scooted back. The swell of your breasts. The way every step he took towards you made your nipples harden, making themselves known under the flimsy material.

You couldn’t help yourself.

Your vagina was throbbing. You swallowed as your back hit the bedpost with a soft thunk. Your breath hitched when Bucky crawled on top of you, resting in between your legs. Looking up at you with his eyes that had turned dark. Goosebumps erupted on your body when he started to lift the material, folding it over and above your legs, stopping at your hips. Bunching it in the middle as his flesh hand pulled at your undergarments. Tugging at it roughly until the two of you heard a loud rip.

Shredded remains of what was your lacy undergarment were tossed to the floor as Bucky shoved your legs open, eyes full of fury as his gaze lowered, wandered down in between your legs, his gloved metal hand shoving your body down onto the bed.

Wet.

You were so wet.

Arousal was dripping down your thighs. You were panting below him, eyes burning with anticipation. Your legs spread even wider when Bucky dipped his head down, taking your clit into his mouth. His gloved metal hand continued to keep your body down, pinned to the bed as his flesh hand kept your legs spread apart.

Your entire body shuddered when he licked the inside of your thigh. Your thighs trembled as the metal hand gripped, tugged, twisted a hard nipple through the fabric of your nightgown.

“O-Oh… Ja… James…” you moaned out loud, your hands finding his chestnut locks, gripping, tangling themselves in his hair. Pulling. Tugging. Bucky hummed against your clit, the sensation making an electric current run through your body. His tongue licked up the length of your pussy, smearing your arousal around, tasting you. His cheeks and chin covered in you, his scruff brushing over your slippery pussy lips, adding even more friction against you as your hips began to move, grinding on his face roughly.

Your toes curled when you came. Crying out when you did, your body went taut. His metal hand gripped your breast tighter, making you whimper when you finally came back down, gathered your wits. But Bucky continued to take your clit into his mouth, kitten licking on your clit, moaning against your cunt. Taking and sucking your slippery wet lips. He smirked against your thighs again when he heard you coming with a sob, your second orgasm piggybacking off of your first one.

You were gasping when Bucky finally lifted his head, mouth, chin, and cheeks drenched in your arousal.

Seeing the bulge in his pants made you pause. It made you falter as your hands slowly reached out. However, a gloved hand stopped you. His metal hand gripped your wrists, a warning look in his eyes.

“No.”

It was simple. Cut-throat. Straight to the point. A feeling rushed through you. Cut the mood, just like that. Suddenly you felt empty again.

And just like that, the reality of your relationship came crashing back down.

Why had you allowed yourself to be so gullible? Why did you let him do that?

“Do you feel better?”

His voice was rough when he spoke to you. Slowly, you found yourself nodding.

“I… y-yes. I feel better. Thank you.” He gave you a curt nod before sliding off of you and getting up from the bed. The only piece of evidence that showed what just happened was the ripped-up lacy undergarment that was still on the floor. Realizing this, you pulled your nightgown back down and scampered out of bed, picking up the useless undergarment and throwing it away. When you managed to look at your husband, he was fastening his furs over him.

“Are you going out?” Your question came out a little skittish.

Your husband gave you a nod.

“Okay. You’re… you’re going to come back, right?” Bucky gave you a slightly astonished look. You wet your lips. “I-I mean,” you stammered, “we’re married. Married people share a bed, don’t they? I mean… St- King Rogers and his wife share a bed. Shouldn’t we?”

It was perfectly reasonable. Married couples shared beds all the time. People in relationships shared a bed sometimes too. Sharing a bed when you were attached in that sense was perfectly normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Bucky found himself nodding.

“Yes. Alright. That’s fine.” And then the door opened and closed. When Bucky eventually came back, he came back to your room. Just like how you asked. Did he wonder, maybe you’d like to stay with him in his room? The Crown Prince’s room was much bigger. Lots more space. But this, this would be fine. It would make do. You were sleeping on your back, softly snoring. The blankets had been kicked down. Your nightgown had ridden up again, showing some skin. His pants tightened. He swallowed when he crawled into your bed after he took off his furs, his shirt, and his pants.

Bucky slipped off his glove, putting it on the little nightstand on his side of the bed. Carefully, slowly, gently, he wrapped an arm around you. The metal one. You groaned in your sleep, shifting around. Bucky swallowed again nervously, blue eyes watching as you rolled over on your side, facing him. Your face in his bare chest. Snuggling up against him, a blissful look on your face.

You didn’t like him. You didn’t.

The two of you hadn’t had time to discuss it yesterday night. The two of you had been too busy. With you being busy with your individual schedules.

Besides, the two of you were just starting. You could talk about it later.

Yes. That was it. Later. It would wait until later.

“… Are you thinking of having children?”

Bucky looked over at General Hammer. A perplexed look on his face. The idea was laughable. Absurd.

Why would he want to bring someone like him into this world?

Bucky had failed his country when he had lost his arm. He wasn’t valuable anymore. Some people looked at him strangely. Other people, when seeing him, would whisper about him. Vasily Karpov remarked that even though he had lost an arm, at least his cock still worked. He could still provide heirs, but no woman would want a man with one flesh arm and a metal one. Who would put themselves through the pain of loving a broken man like him?

They didn’t understand.

Father. Mother. Rebecca. Natalia. Sam.

They just didn’t understand.

They didn’t understand what it felt like, to lose a limb. To have to look at yourself in the mirror before every shower, to see the evidence that had flipped his entire world upside down.

He wasn’t that same man anymore. He wasn’t that same, smooth-talking prince. He was broken like a puzzle, unable to put the pieces together again.

It was hard. It was frustrating. Bucky was so angry these days.

No one understood. No one could understand.

No one.

“My wife and I are still in the honeymoon stages of our marriage. We haven’t really discussed children quite just yet, General.”

Smooth and calculated. Justin Hammer felt like a vein was going to pop from his forehead.

He had been convinced, just for a second.

It was no wonder why Bucky’s subjects adored him. Even though he was harsher now, harder, he was still kind to his subjects. Listened to them. Sympathized with them. It wasn’t uncommon to see him being around children and in town. He served his country and had a soft spot for children. It would’ve made any single woman flock towards him.

But not with his metal arm now.

No.

Not now.

“You know, Your Highness,” Justin began to speak, and Bucky didn’t miss the way he nearly spat out the title, his eyes narrowing slightly, “I heard from my wife that your little wife that she entertains the company of her bodyguard very much. Clint Barton, right?”

Bucky’s jaw was beginning to tighten.

You and Clint were just friends. That was what you had told him. That the two of you were just purely friends, and nothing more. Did you enjoy Clint’s company? Of course. He was a friend. One that you treasured. You liked Clint’s sense of humor. He was more than a bodyguard to you. A well and trusted friend.

“And I doubt she could possibly carry your child,” He said the word “your” like it disgusted him. Bucky was seething. Justin remained unbothered, or maybe he was just stupid, so he continued.

“With the way she walks, limping like that? There’s no way she’d carry it to full term.”

Something inside Bucky snapped.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t patient.

He was.

But he had no tolerance for bullies.

Much like someone he knew. Preferably known as a little punk.

It happened so quickly.

He had gotten up from his chair.

His metal hand had shot out. Vibranium fingers curled around his throat, and the Crown Prince had slammed him right against the drywall. The slam was loud that some people who had been lurking around the hallway had stopped.

Something was wrong.

Heels echoed down the hall as Justin tried hard to get some air in his lungs.

Bucky usually wasn’t violent.

But this… this gremlin talking to him, using such a disgusted tone when speaking about you.. it made his blood boil.

His feet kicked. His hand tried to desperately claw at Bucky’s metal arm.

“Don’t you dare insult my wife like that again. I will not be this merciful next time. If I ever hear you or your wife insulting my wife, I will use violence. Do you understand?”

Nods. Frantic nods. Justin managed to gasp out air. It was around the same time that Carol Danvers, Rebecca’s governess came into the room, the door opening loudly with a clang as she stumbled in. Her eyes were wide.

“Carol,” Bucky greeted her, his tone cold, “can you please escort General Hammer out? I believe our meeting is over.”

Later that day, in the Royal Library…

Word had traveled fast. When you had gotten back to the castle from town, a maid was already running up to you, blabbing in Russian about how the “Crown Prince had lost control and had nearly strangled General Hammer because he had been speaking ill about you.” It had made you rush inside, ignoring Monica’s shouts that you needed to dress in comfier clothing, due to the light snowfall today.

Sadly, your husband had been preoccupied. So, you could not speak to him.

Bucky had found you in the royal library later after he had asked Natalia where you had gone. She had pointed in the direction of the royal library. He had thanked his sister before taking off.

And there you were. When he opened the door, he saw you. Seated at a table with your nose in a book. As per usual, when you had been home in Transia. Even there, it hadn’t changed.

You hadn’t noticed him coming until it was a little too late. Your chair had been pulled back with the help of his metal arm. Then, you had looked up at the intruder.

Your eyes went wide.

So you did the next best thing.

You whacked him on the head with your book.

“Ow!” exclaimed Bucky in surprise. He rubbed at his head.

So you did it again. And again. And again.

“Ow, ow, ow! Will you stop that?!” Bucky yelled. All you did was scowl. Maybe snarl too. So, he wasn’t taken aback when you snapped at him. “Why the hell did you attack Hammer earlier? He’s a General, James! Have you no tact?”

“He’s a foreigner,” was what Bucky snapped back in reply. Your scowl became deeper.

You had not wanted to fight with your husband.

Especially not with what had happened last night.

Nope.

You had not wanted this at all.

“I don’t care if he’s a foreigner! I don’t care if he was Yahweh himself! You’re supposed to treat him with respect James! Or has no one taught you manners before? Have you forgotten your manners?” You were raising your voice now, starting to get pissed off.

“He was insulting you!” Bucky bellowed.

“He was- what?”

A look of pure bewilderment was on your face. Bucky was taking in deep breaths.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

In and out.

Breathe.

“He was insulting you,” Bucky seethed, now having switched to English due to his anger taking over, “he said it was impossible for your carry a child to full term by the way you walk.”

He was not about to bring up Clint. He didn’t want to throw more gasoline on the dumpster fire that was the morning’s incident.

“Oh. You mean my limping?”

Bucky’s jaw tightened.

And then the surprise was shown on his face.

The way you spoke of it so causally, so gently, so out-of-the-blue… like it didn’t bother you… it puzzled him.

How could you be so calm with this? How?

“Of course, I limp sometimes, James. It’s apart of what happened with me and my surgery. My surgery didn’t guarantee I to be walking like Jesus himself on water. Of course, I will slip up sometimes. But it’s alright. It’s okay. I don’t have a problem with it, James. I really don’t.”

Now Bucky was convinced someone had knocked you right on the head. Tooth right on the nail.

You had truly lost it.

“You’re… not offended?” He was shocked. You rolled your eyes.

“Of course not, James. It does sting, I won’t lie to you. I don’t like it when people talk badly of me. Especially in front of my husband.”

My husband. The way you spoke those words… those two words… it made something stir in him. He walked closer to you, plopping himself down on the desk. Facing you. Looking at you straight in the eyes.

His hands were cupping your face. Gripping your jaw with his gloved metal hand, so you could look up at him. When your hands went down to his pants again, fingertips brushing against the hem of his pants, you asked him gently, “Is this okay?”

Was it okay?

It was more than okay.

It was good.

A nod told you that it was okay to proceed. But you just wanted to make sure.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Bucky had never been more ready, so sure of something ever in his life.

Pop.

Unbuttoning his pants, you pulled the zipper down.

Just like your wedding night, Bucky had gone commando.

Again.

“I’m starting to think you just don’t enjoy wearing boxer briefs,” your retort made him snicker a little.

“No,” he replied, in full agreement with you, “I really don’t.”

Bucky was thick. Long. Uncut. It had been a struggle to fit himself inside of you that first night. And just like that first night, you were going to struggle to put it in your mouth. With his pants being tugged down, to the point where you had actually gotten them off, your hands reached for him. Pushing back his foreskin, revealing his shaft. Twin globes rested on his thighs as you cupped them with one hand, and your other hand brushed over his sac before your thumb brushed over his testicles.

Bucky let out a hiss of pleasure. His hiss turned into a groan when you took him in your mouth. Moaning in appreciation. Because oh boy, did you appreciate it.

Flesh and gloved metal hands sank into your hair, gripping it just like how you did the previous night. Profanities spewed from his lips when your tongue swirled against the blunt head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum that was already gathering there.

Salty. Not too bad.

A hand reaching up to grip his shaft, you took more and more of him in your mouth. When the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, your gag reflex kicked in. You gagged. How could you not? He was big. You knew your jaw was going to be sore once this was over.

Your mouth moved up and down. Your saliva smearing onto his cock. Some even dribbling down the corners of your mouth as you inhaled his cock. Taking him deeper and deeper each time. All the while your hand pumped his shaft.

Bucky hissed your name. He hissed other things too. Gasps and groans coming from him as he tugged and pulled on your hair, coaxing you to go deeper.

For the first time in his life, Bucky knew he wasn’t going to last.

“… Shit… ‘m gonna cum,” your husband told you. A hum around his cock was your only reply as Bucky came with a shout, shooting his load down your throat.

You nearly choked. And coughed. But you took it in stride. You tried to swallow every last drop, but when you pulled your mouth from his cock, some dribbled down the corners of your mouth, mixed in with your spit.

For a moment, all the two of you could do was look at each other.

You had regained your voice first.

“Do you feel better?”

Did he feel better?

Somewhat.

As Bucky got off of the desk, pulling his pants back on, he thought.

For just a split second, he wanted to be in you again. Wanted to pull you over the desk and take you He’d make you feel so good too. All he wanted to do to you in that moment was shove your dress up, pull your panties down to your ankles, and throw you over the desk and make you scream.

But he didn’t. Instead, he said, “Yes. Come, I think Rebecca was asking for you.”

He never got to see the disappointed look on your face.

He was feeling it again.

Throughout dinner, Winifred Barnes Romanov was looking at her son like she was going to cut his head off. You kept quiet, silently snickering at the annoyed look on Bucky’s face.

He just knew his mother was going to give him an earful later.

But right now, he watched you take a glass of wine and put it to your lips.

Alright. He could admit it to himself- he was trying to distract himself.

Keyword being trying.

It was torture. Pure torture. You were determined to torture him, it seemed. Bucky was eyeing the v-neck of your dress, silently admiring the way it was showing off your skin. He could feel his pants tightening. Narrowing his eyes and quietly seething, he was thinking again.

He should’ve asked you. He should’ve asked you if you had wanted sex.

And now look at him. Getting a horrible case of the blue balls because he couldn’t use his brain properly. What kind of man was he? Not a good one. He couldn’t even ask you if you wanted sex.

Maybe Vasily was right. Maybe he didn’t deserve you. Maybe you two should’ve just made an heir for the people. Not for your own sake of happiness, like Steve and his wife.

For once, Bucky wished he could’ve been like Steve. Why couldn’t he be nicer like Steve? Why couldn’t he keep his temper in control like Steve? Why couldn’t he treat you like how Steve treated Mrs. Rogers?

Why couldn’t he be more like Steve?

The thought made him grit his teeth together as he ate. His temper slowly curling around him, building and building. The seed was planted. The only thing he needed more was someone to feed it.

Later, after dinner, Bucky could feel like he could actually take a breather.

Almost.

Because Natalia was sneaking upon him. By the time he realized that it was her footsteps nearly towards him, it was too late. The redhead Princess was looking at her big brother with a narrowed expression in her eyes.

“What?” Bucky bit at her. “If you’re looking to chew me out, Natalia, don’t. Mother’s already done it. I don’t need it from you too.”

“She was asking for you. Your wife. She’s in her room.”

Bucky took off faster than someone shooting him out of a cannon. He shouted his thanks to his younger sister and immediately went to his room.

And there you were. Dressed in another one of your nightgowns, one that Bucky saw that was transparent again. Just like last night. His pants were tightening at the sight. You had left your lamp on your nightstand. Dim light was pouring into the room.

Get your head together. He snapped at himself internally.

Putting your tablet down and rolling over on your side so you could face him from where he was in the doorway, you asked, “Did Natalia find you? Or did you come in here yourself, husband dearest?”

Bucky panted. He closed your bedroom door behind him, locking it. You saw him take off his boots. Walking closer towards your bed, you heard him respond. Unlike earlier, he wasn’t wearing his crown. His shoulder-length chestnut hair was a little messy. Untamed. You could see he still hadn’t shaved his ever-growing scruff.

“Natalia found me.” Your lips pursed.

“Uh-huh.”

You could admit it to yourself.

You were still a little bit angry.

Bucky didn’t need to do that for you. Why did he have to have General Hammer in a chokehold like that? Why did he have to do that? How could he do that? You didn’t need him to protect you, for fuck’s sake!

You were getting angry. Bucky could tell by the irritated look on your face.

“We need to talk.”

Your irritating look turned into a full-on glare.

“No, we don’t.”

Bucky was resisting the urge. Resisting the urge to shout. It was bubbling up in him.

“Yes we do,” Bucky hissed, “You don’t look happy. I know you aren’t happy with me.”

“Of course I’m not happy with you!”

You had flung the blankets over you. Your legs hooking over on your side of the bed, allowing you to get up. You stomped over to him, nearly shoving him. But Bucky just stood there and took it. He knew you were angry. But so was he.

“You held an American General in a chokehold, for goodness sake, James! America is our biggest ally! You know King Steve personally! Do you know what will happen to your reputation now? It’ll be ruined! They won’t trust you!” You shouted at him.

“You don’t think I know that?” Bucky fired back at you, beginning to get angry again. “You don’t think I don’t know what they say about me? What they say about this?” Almost angrily, he yanked off his glove that hid his metal arm, nearly shoving it in your face. “How they call me incompetent? How I won’t be a ruler? How I won’t be able to serve my fucking country and how I’m going to raze it into the ground? Or do you want me to tell you about how Vasily Karpov remarked that at least I can still use my cock and put a fucking child in you? But sure, let’s talk about Hammer and how I put him in a chokehold because he talked horrible about my wife and ‘I need to keep my temper in check!’”

Smack.

Bucky had the decency to look surprised. A look of pure disbelief appeared on his face.

And then his eyes hardened.

He took a step towards you. You took a step back, feeling your heart hammering in your chest.

Too far. You had gone too far.

“James, I-”

He didn’t know what had overcome him. His hands reached out to grip your jaw, his lips covering yours in an angry frenzy.

He was kissing you.

And you weren’t complaining.

This was okay.

This was more than okay. You needed this. He needed this too. Your hands had found his chestnut locks, gripping them, grabbing, tugging, pulling him closer to you as his tongue poked at your lips. Your mouth opened, allowing Bucky to explore your mouth. He was pulling you into a deeper kiss, sucking on your tongue like he was in between your thighs again. Familiar wetness was piling, dripping down your thighs.

Your hands were gripping at his shirt, almost clawing at the black and red tunic that your husband was wearing. Bucky’s hands- both metal and flesh, went lower, all the way down, gripping the flesh of your ass in his hands. Almost good enough to leave bruises.

“Say it,” he breathed out into your mouth, looking at you with dark eyes, “Tell me you want it. I’ll do it, doll. I’ll fuck you. Fuck you how you like.”

It was getting too good to ignore. You were finding it hard to deny him. He was your husband, after all. Grudgingly, you could admit it to yourself. You were growing fond of him. Of course, you cared about him. He was your husband. You wore his ring. You two were in this for the long run, whether if the two of you liked it or not.

But love?

No.

Never.

You didn’t love him.

Not like how your parents loved each other. You two didn’t give each other longing looks. You two didn’t say “I love you” to each other in private. Hell, you hadn’t even said those words yet. But they made something churn in you. Like a knife in your back, twisting and turning.

You didn’t love this man.

You didn’t.

“Okay.”

Your nightgown was pulled, yanked over your head, and tossed to the floor. Bucky was hoping his self-control would take. Would stay. Because by the looks of your naked body underneath, his control was going to snap like a wire being cut.

Nothing. You were wearing absolutely nothing underneath your nightgown. Had you always slept this way? Or had it been just recently? Whatever it was, Bucky didn’t think on it any further because he had hoisted you over his shoulder, picking you up effortlessly like it was nothing. Like you were nothing but putty in his hands. You landed on your bed with a shriek.

The sounds of Bucky’s plates on his metal arm moving had garnered your attention. Your arms had reached out for him, for the buttons on his tunic. Walking over to you, leaning over, he obliged.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

His tunic was thrown somewhere in your room. Where you had no clue. And you weren’t really caring right now.

You needed him. You just needed him inside of you. Nothing else. You didn’t want him to coddle you. You didn’t want him to cuddle you. To hold you tight. You had to keep reminding yourself that you weren’t in love with him. Because you weren’t. You swore you were not.

When your hands traveled lower, like in the library, to pop off the button of his pants, he allowed you.

Pop.

And then you were unzipping his pants. Just like in the library.

The library.

Maybe he’d do it next time. Maybe he’d do it. Maybe he’d bend you over and take you from behind like how he wanted to do earlier.

Next time. Next time he’d do it.

But not right now.

His pants were shoved to the floor almost angrily by you. You were looking up at him, your gaze almost scathing.

“Are you going to do it or not?’

He shoved you. Like, shoved you, shoved you. A shrill noise came from you as Bucky opened your nightstand, fumbling around. Trying to search for it. He snapped at you to hold your wrists up when he managed to find the silk scarves that you had started wearing due to the cold weather. Your wrists went up. You watched him almost like a hawk. Feeling the wrists being tied to your bedpost.

You wiggled your wrists.

“Good?” his voice was rough.

“Yeah.”

“Open your mouth.”

Your mouth opened. With another silk scarf he had gotten from your nightstand, he tied it around your mouth from keeping you from making any noise. A metal finger tapped the gag and you made a noise. It was muffled due to the gag. Bucky leaned back, satisfied.

“Stay there.”

It wasn’t like you could move the upper half of your body anyway. You couldn’t. You were trapped from the waist up. And if you kicked at him, he’d hold you down. Worse, he might’ve tied your feet down to the bed too. Then you wouldn’t be able to move your body at all. You’d be all spread out for him. At his mercy. Unable to do anything.

Surprisingly, you weren’t against the idea.

Slipping the blindfold over your eyes, all you saw was darkness. Pitch black.

Bucky heard you say something that was muffled against the gag.

By the time he hooked his knees under your thighs, pushing back the foreskin of his cock, revealing his erection, it was too late. You were still speaking, nay, yelling something at him through the gag, probably something along the lines of, “how dare you to tell me what to do,” or, “you’re such a little asshole.” He was spreading your legs apart roughly. You were about to say something else, maybe a snide comment, but Bucky pushed his cock fully inside of you. Filling you up to the brim. A muffled noise came from your gag.

Bucky was thrusting into you, pulling out of you, only leaving the tip of his cock in you, swirling the head of his cock on your slippery lips, before slamming right back in. Every thrust sent your eyes rolling into the back of your head. His teeth sank into one breast, taking your hardened nipple into your mouth. Both of his hands were holding your thighs in place, all spread out so he could continue fucking into you. Get deeper into you.

This was okay.

This was what he needed, what he wanted back in the library.

He wanted to be in you. To feel you. To be surrounded by you. And only you.

With every thrust, your body bounced. You couldn’t sink your fingers in your hair due to the restraints. Muffled noises of pleasure were coming from your gag. Your saliva was soaking up your gag, making it harder and harder for you to say anything. Bucky bathed your tit until it was wet, and your nipple ached. Then he moved to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. You were swearing and sobbing behind your gag.

You were wet.

So wet.

Wetter than you ever thought possible.

Bucky had come first.

He was just so hard.

So painfully hard. Achingly hard. When he came in you, he swore loudly in Russian. So loud he might’ve alerted one of the Kingsguard or Queensguard that was on duty.

He came in you, coating your achingly wet pussy walls with his seed.

But Bucky didn’t really care.

He needed you again. He needed to cum in you again. Again and again.

His cock was hitting your g-spot so well. So good. So well, so good that you were half convinced that his cock was going to split your pussy in half.

This.

This was what he had needed all day.

This.

Being in you. Feeling you. You could feel every vein, every ridge of his cock in you. It felt so good.

His mind wasn’t clear yet. The fog hadn’t lifted.

Cause okay, he was hard as a rock. His hand, his Vibranium hand slipped into your pussy, all wet and slimy, and rubbed your clit. Coating his metal fingers in your fluids.

You came screaming. Your scream muffled behind your gag. You tried to move your wrists but remembered that they were tied. Tears were springing in your eyes. You still couldn’t see anything.

You wanted to touch him.

You really did.

But you remembered.

Remembered his words to you on your wedding night.

I don’t want you to see my metal arm. I don’t want you to touch it.

Metal fingers wet, slippery with your slickness, his metal hand wandered, went lower, and traveled backward to your backside. A finger slipped through, sinking into the tight ring of muscle. A muffled noise came from you. One of surprise. You couldn’t widen your eyes in surprise. It didn’t feel weird. Just something you weren’t used to.

His breath brushed against the shell of your ear. Making you shiver and squirm.

He snarled.

“I am your husband.”

A harsh thrust. Another muffled shout.

“You are my wife.”

A scream came from you. Your eyes got even more watery behind your blindfold.

“I will defend you any way I like. Do you understand? Tell me you understand.”

You couldn’t say anything. How could you? Your mouth was gagged. Even if you wanted to say something, you would’ve preferred it not being when you were getting railed into like your life depended on it.

A loud smack against your thigh made you cry out behind your gag.

Good enough for him.

When his cock bumped against your cervix, you came.

Your pussy clenched down onto his cock for the last time. Gripping his dick like a vice. Bucky swore when he felt you cumming. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. A frustrated groan leaving his lips.

Still, he continued to pound into you. Wanting to chase his orgasm.

This was okay. He just needed to cum. That was it.

That was all.

It was nothing else.

Nope.

Absolutely nothing.

How he kept going, kept fucking into you, you didn’t know. Until you could feel him slipping his metal finger out of you, you didn’t know when he came. But when his teeth sank into the bare line of your throat, he came. He pulled your pelvis close to him, teeth sinking into your throat. Filling you up. Marking you in the most primal way possible when the movement came from his hips. He slowly lifted himself from your body, slowly pulled himself out of you. The tingly scent of blood in the air. Now having emptied himself inside of you, he gently pulled his cock out of your gushing cunt. A wet noise echoed.

For a moment, the fog in his head cleared. Lifted. He managed to gather his senses. Bucky looked down to see you, all blissed out. Fully satisfied. Something burned, moved inside of him. Made his stomach turn. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. His heart pounded in his chest.

That weird feeling was settling in again.

Bucky had that split-second thought of touching you with his metal hand. To allow you to feel his metal arm.

Immediately, he shook his head at the thought.

What was he thinking? He didn’t like you like that. Of course, you were his wife. But that was it. You were his wife on paper. In the eyes of the public. That was all. He didn’t love you.

As he untied the binds on your wrists and took the gag out of your mouth, you massaged your jaw. For a moment, he thought he might’ve gone just a little hard this time. But then you stretched. After he got up and cleaned everything up, he spoke.

“Did you like it?”

To which you cocked your head in confusion.

“Huh?”

“The sex. Did you like it?”

Oh.

Your mind had been foggy. But now, it was clear. You nodded.

“Yeah. I liked it.”

The mattress sunk a little as Bucky got back into bed. He didn’t hold you. But he was looking at you.

“Good.”

You reached over to turn off the light. Then you slumped back over.

“Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight.”

Bucky was left laying on his back. Looking up at the ceiling. He could hear some footsteps shuffling outside from whoever was on duty tonight.

It happened again.

You had shifted over in your sleep, rolling over on your side, from where you had been sleeping on your back. Your head had nestled in his chest, just like last night.

The strange feeling was back again. All Bucky could do was look at you. His eyes were beginning to shine. He could feel his throat tightening. His eyes started to burn. Water with tears. Almost immediately, his hands came to wipe them away.

He shook his head as he relaxed against you.

He didn’t like you.

He didn’t love you.

He didn’t.

Not really.

Not at all.

Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44, @bxnnywriting, @hawsx3

#royalty!bucky barnes x princess!female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction

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sunriserose1023 · 3 years ago

Text

An Incandescent Glow

I have been having the worst time with trying to write lately. I asked for some requests and got a pretty good response. An anonymous ask suggested this:

I wanted to write this But I think you could do it justice if you're into the theme but it's basically based on the reader being a princess and her guard being her confidant, Like the bodyguard they've confessed love tho but it's still forbidden. There's a scene in a story I just can't remember, they torture him in the front of everyone to see as a punishment for smthn? he makes no sound coz the reader is there so she leaves but sneaks out later to him still hurt and tied and then good ol h/c.

And this is what became of that ask.

WARNINGS: THIS IS AN AU; this is set in medieval-ish times, so outdated and F’ed up thoughts and actions towards women will occur; royalty au, forced engagement/wedding, abusive relationship, public whipping, fevers, painful wound cleansing, suicidal thoughts, aborted suicide attempt, magic PAIRING: Princess Reader x Guard Bucky Barnes WORD COUNT: 11,000ish WRITING IN THE DARK BINGO FILL: Royal AU BAD THINGS HAPPEN BINGO FILL: Fevers AUTHOR’S NOTE: Title taken from “ivy,” by Taylor Swift Specifically the line “Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand.”

Near silent footsteps grew closer to the tree just past the garden. A smile played at his lips as he followed the trail of dainty footprints that stopped at the base of the tree. He slowly looked from left to right, turning to lean against the trunk of the tree, crossing his arms over his massive chest and speaking low.

“I know you’re up there.”

He laughed when an acorn popped him on the head. He let his arms fall and tilted his head back, dark hair falling off his shoulders with the movement. There you were, looking up, refusing to look his way.

“Come on, now. He’ll be here any minute.” “I don’t care about him.” “I know you don’t, but he could be a good one.”

You glanced his way then, long enough to make eye contact and narrow your eyes at him before you looked away again.

“That’s what you said about the last two.” “Prince Samuel was a good man, even if he did get on my nerves.” “But you were wrong about Prince Anthony.”

He nodded.

“That guy was a prick.”

You giggled, looking down as he looked up. His lips lifted in a crooked smile as he raised a hand. You sighed, shimmying down a little until he could reach you, taking hold of your waist and lowering you from the tree.

“There we go.”

You stayed close to him once he set your feet on the ground, hands gently brushing the tree debris from your gown. He made no movements away from you and you looked up into kind, icy blue eyes, your chin nearly brushing his chest as you spoke just above a whisper.

“I don’t want to marry them, Bucky.” “I know, Princess.” “Why can’t I just marry you?”

Bucky ignored the twinge in his heart, forcing a sad smile onto his face as he let his fingers trail over your cheek.

“I’m just a lowly guard, your grace. You deserve only the finest of princes.”

You shook your head, eyes drawn to your family crest pinned at Bucky’s chest.

“I don’t know, being solely responsible for the safety of the Princess is worthy of some nobility, isn’t it?”

Bucky smiled for real this time as you met his eyes.

“No one has ever accused me of being noble, my lady.”

You smiled, giving a laugh under your breath before he offered you his arm. You sighed again, looping your arm through his, laying your other hand on his thick bicep as the two of you slowly began to walk back to the castle.

“I feel as if we’re on a death march.” “You can’t look at it that way, my lady. He could be the love of your life.”

You swallowed hard, not realizing as you pulled Bucky closer.

“Who is he again?” “Prince John. A man worthy of you, according to the legends surrounding him.” “What legends?” “He’s defended his kingdom more than once. His father died during one of his battles and John saved the kingdom before returning home.” “So is he the king or a prince?”

Bucky let go of your arm, stepping over a small ravine. There was a fallen tree stretched across the ravine, one you’d hurried over on your way into the woods and up your tree. Bucky held out a hand and you grasped it tightly, lifting the skirts of your gown as you walked over the tree. Once you were safely to the other side, Bucky offered you his arm again.

“Technically he’s king, but he hasn’t had a coronation yet. His kingdom’s laws say the prince must be married first.” “And that’s where I come in.”

You stopped suddenly, dragged forward the slightest bit when Bucky hadn’t realized you weren’t walking with him. He dropped your arm and started to apologize, but you shook your head. He stood before you and you laid your hands on his shoulders, Bucky hunching over enough for you to reach him.

“I don’t want to marry someone just because it would be a good, strategic move for the kingdom. I want to marry for love.” “I know, my lady. But couldn’t you grow to love him?”

You stared into those icy eyes, biting back the words on the tip of your tongue.

How can I, when I love you so?

You blinked, shaking your head. Bucky smiled, rolling his shoulder to make your hand fall, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the back of your palm, tucking your hand through his arm once more.

“I’m sure the Queen is wondering where you’ve run off to.” “She should know by now.”

Bucky’s smile widened as he thought to the first time he’d caught you in the tree. Your parents had arranged for Prince Ikaris, a boy you’d grown up playing in the woods with, to come and spend the summer. Only once the days shortened did they tell you that he was there as your suitor, and you’d end the year betrothed.

You’d stayed in the tree until your father ordered the tree cut down to get you out of it, and only by Bucky carrying you back to the castle did you relent.

It seems that Ikaris was only the first in a line of suitors, none deeming you worthy enough to play along with your antics. You were sure Prince Anthony had figured you out, and the wink he’d given you as he kissed your hand during his goodbye only cemented your belief.

No, the only constant through the parade of princes was Bucky, the one who’d sworn to protect you with his life when you were barely a teenager, and he barely a man. He’d kept his word, staying by your side through every attack on the kingdom. While seldom, the attacks did still come, and instead of fighting on the front lines, Bucky stayed at your side.

He also stayed by your side through every cold and fever and illness, keeping you in his sights through every lesson, every ball, staying outside your bedroom while you slept. You weren’t sure when he slept, but every time you needed him, he was by your side.

“Here we are.”

You looked up at the castle before you, glancing up at Bucky. He laid his other hand on the one you had currently gripping his arm.

“It will be fine, Princess. John will be a good man. He’ll be the one.”

You swallowed, pushing a smile on your face and nodding.

Even though you both knew it was a lie.

You paced the sitting room, skirts swishing as you walked. The words you muttered didn’t make sense, but you couldn’t sit still and you couldn’t be quiet. You didn’t look up at the knock on the door, your mother huffing out a breath when the door opened.

“Thank goodness. Talk some sense into her before she sends us all to an early grave!”

You rolled your eyes as you continued your pacing, stopping only when you saw the shiny boots step into your path. You lifted your head, closing your eyes with a relieved sigh when you saw the one constant in your life.

“Bucky.”

You laid your hands on his arms and he led you to the bench where your mother had been sitting. He sat beside you and you shook your head, taking hold of his hands.

“I hate him.” “You don’t know him.” “And I don’t want to!”

You shook your head, body vibrating along with it.

“There’s something about him … I can’t. I won’t marry him.” “You have to give him a chance, Princess.” “I did!” “No, you haven’t.”

You squeezed Bucky’s hands and he shifted closer to you.

“Just talk to him. Get to know him.” “I don’t want to get to know him!” “I know, but you have to.”

You lifted your eyes to his, seeing the pain in his eyes.

“What?”

Bucky looked down at your hands and you shook your head, giving his hands a squeeze until he lifted his head again.

“Bucky, what?” “Your father will force this marriage to happen.”

Your eyes widened, hands falling from Bucky’s. You shook your head, but he nodded his.

“You don’t have a choice anymore, my lady. You will marry Prince John.” “No, he … Father wouldn’t do that.” “He would. He will. Uniting John’s kingdom with ours would be a brilliant strategic move.”

You slowly nodded.

“Whatever is best for the kingdom.”

You stood on shaky legs, walking away from Bucky. He stood, the sword at his side softly clanging as he walked towards you. You stopped and lifted a shaky hand to your lips, closing your eyes as Bucky came to a stop behind you, his warmth surrounding you.

“Give him a chance, my lady. Get to know him.” “I don’t love him.” “You’ll learn to love him.”

You turned quickly, grabbing Bucky’s elbows. You watched his nostrils flare as his hands went to your waist, steadying you. His hands didn’t move from you, the warmth of his fingers burning you like a brand. You stepped closer, watching his eyes flash as he stayed still, a quiet gasp leaving your lips as his fingers flexed on your hips. The two of you stared at each other until you leaned even closer, your near silent voice echoing in the small space between you.

“I’ll never love him.”

Bucky had made you promise to give Prince John a try, so you did. Sitting beside him at meals, strolling through the grounds with him. Standing at the entrance to the smelly barn as he brushed his horse and regaled you with tales of battle.

You couldn’t stand the man.

Bucky kept his distance when you were with John, brushing off the prince’s insistence that you were more than safe with him and Bucky could take the time off. Bucky politely declined, giving you and John space while still following you.

Now, you were on yet another stroll through the castle grounds, arm through John’s at his insistence, Bucky following a dozen paces behind.

“Is he always like this?”

You glanced over your shoulder, a soft smile crossing your lips.

“He’s duty-bound to protect me.” “And he’s always around you? Even in your private chamber?” “Well, of course not. He stays outside the door.”

John clicked his tongue, much the same way he did with the horses. The sound was grating to your ears and he shook his head.

“That’ll be the first thing to go.”

You blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

John gave you a patronizing smile.

“When you’re my wife, you won’t need a bodyguard. I’ll protect you.” “I would think as the Queen, you’d want as much protection around me as you can get.” “Of course, your grace. But I have my own men I’ll put in that position.”

You blinked a few times.

“I’ve known B—“

You cleared your throat.

“James my whole life. I trust him and I know he will protect me, no matter the cost.” “Well, I don’t need him.” “You may not, but I do.” “You’ll need what I say you’ll need.”

You stopped, and John gave a hard exhale when you tugged at his arm.

“Come on. I’m tired of dealing with your attitude.” “I hate to break it to you, but the attitude stays.”

John gave a laugh, turning to stand in front of you and glaring down at you.

“I’ll fuck that attitude right out of you. Now do as I say.”

He grabbed your arm tightly and harshly pulled you forward, causing you to stumble. A warm hand grasped yours, the other on your waist as you were righted a moment before you were standing behind the wall of Bucky.

“I swear to God, if you touch her again—“ “I didn’t do anything.” “I watched you. I heard you.”

John laughed.

“And what will you do, guard? You think you can undermine the king?” “You’re not the king yet.”

John lifted his chin, a wicked smile coming to his lips as he stared at Bucky, glancing to see you peeking around Bucky’s wide frame before he spoke again.

“We’ll see about that.”

You sat up in bed at the sudden commotion outside your chamber. You pushed back the blankets and grabbed your robe, pulling it around you as you flung open the door. Guards wearing Prince John’s family crest were surrounding Bucky, trying to put his hands in shackles.

“What’s happening? What is this?” “Princess, go back inside.”

You shook your head at Bucky, reaching for him, gasping when a fist flew out, catching Bucky on the chin. He went to his knees with a groan, hands quickly shackled behind his back.

“Unhand him. Let him go!” “Orders of the Prince. Go back inside, my lady.” “No, I demand you let him go!”

Before a burly guard could force you back into your chamber, a hand reached out, placed in the center of the guard’s chest. The guard gave a nod, and Bucky was carried away. You turned quickly to see one of Bucky’s closest friends at your side.

“Steve, what’s happening?”

Steve sighed, gently ushering you back into your chamber.

“John put out the order. Said Bucky threatened him, threatened you. He’s going to use him to teach a lesson.” “Bucky didn’t threaten him. And he would never hurt me—“ “I know. I know, your grace, but I couldn’t go against the Prince.”

You looked in the direction that they’d taken Bucky, your heart feeling as if it were in your throat.

“What will he do to him?”

Steve’s eyes were cast down when you looked back to him, and you covered your mouth with your hand. Your hand drifted to your throat, as you spoke the words that burned like acid in your mouth.

“Will he kill him?” “I don’t think so.”

You closed your eyes, Steve’s quiet words slicing through your heart.

“But there are things worse than death.”

You opened your eyes again, knowing that despite the late hour, sleep would not come for you tonight.

John smiled as he adjusted the armor on his arms.

“Where is she?”

He glanced to see Steve at the doorway, who bowed his head.

“She’s coming, your grace.” “Good. I want to be sure she watches closely.”

Steve nodded, eyes cast to the ground. His eyes flicked up when he heard your gown swishing as you walked, clenching his jaw before he turned his head.

“She’s here, your highness.” “Excellent.”

John turned to see you in the doorway. Your eyes seemed tired, as if you hadn’t gotten enough sleep. John smiled, knowing his plan had worked.

“My Queen. Let’s take a walk.”

You glanced away when he was near, biting back a groan when he grabbed your chin and held it tightly as he kissed your cheek. He grabbed your arm and placed it through his own, pulling you forward.

“There’s something you need to learn. I’ve spoken with Samuel and Thor and Ikaris. I even wrote to Anthony, but I never received a response.”

You bit your lip to hide the smile at that.

“They all said the same thing. That you weren’t worth the time.”

You schooled your face into a calm, cool facade. You weren’t going to let his words get to you.

“Honestly, Princess? I have to agree with them.”

You clenched your teeth together as he went on.

“You may not be worth it, but your kingdom is. Well, your father’s kingdom. Let’s not pretend it would ever be yours.”

You straightened your spine, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

“But I can’t get the kingdom without you, so I guess we both just have to grin and bear it. But here’s the thing, sweetheart.” “Don’t call me that.”

John maneuvered your hand to where he was grasping it, squeezing so tightly you felt your bones grind together. You yelped at the sudden burn of pain and John sneered at you.

“Remember your place, Princess. I will be your husband and your king very soon.”

You blinked back tears as the two of you came to a sudden stop.

“Consider this the first of many lessons I’ll have to teach you. And you will learn, Princess. One way or another.”

John snapped his fingers and two of his men came to stand on either side of you. You looked from one to the other, noticing the crowd that had gathered. You narrowed your eyes when you realized you were standing on some sort of scaffolding, a stage of sorts.

John stepped near the edge of the stage.

“Citizens! Your future king has called you here for one simple reason.”

You tuned him out, glancing around the stage, looking through the crowd for a familiar face. You didn’t see one, save for Steve near the stairs, head bowed, shoulders tense. You swallowed as you studied the crowd, eyes falling onto a woman paces behind the rest of the people. She locked eyes with you and a shiver rolled up your spine. She lifted the hood of the cloak she wore, setting it on her fiery hair before turning and walking away. You watched her until you couldn’t see her anymore, blinking as if you’d been in a trance. Your eyes fluttered as the crowd began buzzing like a hive of bees, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched Bucky with his hands and feet shackled being led up the stairs. You started to step forward, stepping back when one of the men beside you blocked your path.

“You’re to watch this, Princess.”

Your heart throbbed in your chest as Bucky was led to the middle of the stage, the shirt he was wearing torn away. You met his eyes, saw the emotions swirling in the icy blue before he was forced to look away, his body wrenched to face the crowd.

“No.”

The word was barely audible, your eyes widening when John was handed a whip. You shook your head, reaching out, being stopped quickly by the thickly muscled arms of the men on either side of you. You looked to see Steve with his head still bowed, eyes squeezed shut, lips pulled tight in a wince. You took in a breath as John raised the whip over his head, hand flying to cover your mouth as John brought the whip down, the crack seeming to echo as Bucky’s body jolted forward.

Bucky tried to hold back, but soon every crack of the whip was followed by a scream of agony. You wanted to collapse at the first sound he tried so hard to hold back, but you stood firm. Bucky would want you to be strong. John looked back at you, wild-eyed with a wide smile on his face, and you glared at him, managing to stay still when the next crack of his whip was viciously hard.

When Bucky’s screams faded, you peeked around the man beside you, your heart falling to your toes when you saw how limp Bucky’s body was. The final lash from John’s whip had no reaction from Bucky, and John threw the whip to the ground as he turned and made his way to you. He stopped in front of you, smiling sadistically.

“Let this be a lesson to you, Princess. King or not, I own you.”

He glanced back over his shoulder.

“And this is just the beginning.”

You closed your eyes as John bent to kiss your cheek before walking away, whistling a tune as he did. The crowd began to disperse with quiet murmurs being exchanged, and you rushed forward, hitting your knees beside Bucky’s prone form.

“Bucky? Oh god. Buck, can you hear me?” “He’s unconscious.”

You looked up to Steve, seeing the pain on his face as he studied the lashes on Bucky’s back, blood oozing from the wounds. You shook your head, one shaky hand moving to the back of Bucky’s head.

“What do we do?” “I can help.”

You looked up at the new voice, quiet and thickly accented. The woman you’d noticed earlier that stayed at the edge of the crowd was standing over Bucky. You moved a hand protectively over him and she smirked.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I mean no harm. He’ll need these wounds cleaned to ward off infection.”

You nodded, looking down at the crisscrossing wounds on Bucky’s back. Shaky fingers gently touched his broken skin and you shook your head.

“I don’t … I can’t leave.” “I know, your grace. I have a few men who can help us.”

You met Steve’s eyes and nodded. He turned and nodded, and three men stepped out of the shadows. You recognized two of them, smiling sadly.

“Clint. Timothy.” “Your highness.”

The men bowed before offering hands to help you to your feet. You stepped back with the woman beside you, your heart clenching with every moan and noise Bucky made. The men managed to get Bucky on a horse, planning on taking him to Clint’s farm. The woman turned to you, and you would have sworn you saw her eyes turn red.

“I’ll do what I can, Princess, but he’s going to need you.” “Me?”

She nodded, a smile coming to her lips.

“I’ll send for you.” “How?” “You’ll know.”

She turned away and you blinked a few times before stepping forward.

“Steve!”

He looked back at you, crossing the space they’d already put between you. You took his hands.

“Be careful. You know there’s wolves in the woods.”

Steve nodded.

“We’ll keep an eye out.”

You nodded, squeezing his hands before he jogged to meet Clint, who was leading the horse away.

You stayed in your chamber with the door locked, refusing any visitors and the requests your parents and John made for you to come out. The only person you would allow into the room was the lady-in-waiting that had been by your side since you were a child, Lady Jean Grey.

You were sitting on the cushioned bench by the window, hands clasped in Jean’s as she knelt before you. You couldn’t speak, tears silently rolling down your cheeks as Jean spoke softly.

“He’s going to be okay, your highness. Steve will be sure to take good care of him.”

You hung your head and gave a soft sob. Jean always seemed to know just what you were thinking, even when you couldn’t put it into words. She knew how you felt about Bucky, how you felt about John, the hopelessness you could feel yourself slipping into. Your father had been delighted with John’s public show of power, and he was more determined than ever to make the marriage happen. You didn’t have a say in the matter, and seeing John’s self-satisfied smirk made your stomach turn.

Your head lifted, eyes locking with Jean’s before the two of you turned towards the window. You helped her to her feet, your gowns swishing as the both of you made your way to the window. The moon was high in the cloudless sky, and a chill rolled down your spine as a wolf’s howl broke the stillness of the night.

You turned to Jean, grabbing her hands.

“That’s it.” “Your grace, that was a wolf.” “No, she did that. We haven’t heard wolves since the snow melted.”

Jean was incredibly smart and intuitive, and you saw goosebumps rise on her arms when the wolf howled again. You gave her hands a squeeze.

“I have to go, Jean. She said he was going to need me, and this is her sign.” “Okay. Okay, go.”

She sighed, looking to the door over your shoulder.

“I’ll stay here, pretend I’m you if I have to. I’ll ward off everything I can, but you must hurry back.”

You nodded, pulling her hands forward until you could kiss her cheek. She helped you into a gown more suitable for someone who wasn’t a princess, pinning your hair up and giving you her cloak. You knew there would be guards outside your chamber door, so Jean helped you climb over the balcony, using the blankets from your bed as a makeshift ladder.

You twisted your ankle when you dropped to the ground, wincing as you ran through the pain. You went in the direction you remembered Steve and Clint leading the horse that had carried Bucky away, the thought coming to you that you had no idea where you were going.

You covered your mouth with a hand when the wolf’s howl filled the air again, the sound sharp in your ears. You looked to your right, jolting when the howl sounded again, but turning that direction. You pulled Jean’s cloak tighter around you, eyes widening when you saw a curl of smoke rose towards the moon. Clouds were quickly hiding the moon, so you hurried towards the smoke, stopping when you saw a stone cottage. You made your way to the door, knocking on it and stepping back.

“Your highness. Welcome.”

You followed the woman into the cottage, removing the hood from your head. You untied the strings at your neck and she took the cloak from you, hanging it beside what you assumed was her own cloak.

“Excuse me.”

She turned to you, curls of her red hair framing her face.

“What is your name?”

She smiled.

“Wanda. Follow me.”

You did, stopping suddenly when Wanda walked through a doorway.

“Oh god.”

You hurried forward, hand brushing over Bucky’s sweat-soaked face. He was laying on his side and he moaned at your touch, his huge body shivering almost violently. You lifted your eyes to Wanda, who sighed.

“He’s got a fever from the infection. I’m doing everything I can.” “Oh, Bucky.”

You grabbed a cloth near his makeshift bed, dipping it in a bucket of water. You gently pressed the cloth to his forehead, a moan leaving his lips. The shivering of his body slowed just a bit, and you moved the cloth to gently clean his face.

“I’m here, Bucky. I'm so sorry.”

He hummed as you dipped the cloth back into the water, wringing it out and pressing it against his neck.

“How long has he had the fever?” “The wounds were showing the beginning signs of infection when we got him here.”

You lifted your head at that, and Wanda smiled as she moved to stand in front of a big bowl.

“They’re in the barn. Close enough that they can come if I call. The big one said it was unseemly for the men to be in a lady’s home.”

You smiled as you laid the cloth over Bucky’s heart.

“Steve.”

Wanda nodded, turning to grab a jar from a shelf on the wall.

“What can I do?”

Wanda took a few jars into her arms, setting them beside the bowl.

“You’re doing it. He’s stopped moaning. Perhaps he recognizes your touch.” “Is he delirious?”

Wanda nodded.

“He’s woken up a few times. That’s usually when I have to call the big one in to calm him down.”

You nodded, sucking in a breath when one of Bucky’s shaky hands touched your thigh. You moved the cloth back to his face, patting gently.

“It’s me, Bucky. I’m here with you.”

Your only response was a moan, and Wanda spoke from behind you.

“Can you fill this with water from the bucket?”

You took a small glass vial from her, dipping it into the bucket and handing it to her before dipping the cloth back into the bucket and wringing it out again.

“Wanda?” “Mm-hmm?” “The wolf howling. That was you, wasn't it?”

She didn’t answer, and you lifted your head to see her dark eyes on you. She nodded, and you swallowed as you moved back to Bucky, placing the cloth against his neck.

“What are you?”

Your voice was quiet, your eyes on Bucky, watching his eyes move under his eyelids as his sleep was restless. You finally glanced over your shoulder, Wanda’s eyes still on you. You swallowed again and Wanda’s lips curled in the slightest semblance of a smile.

“Will you help me put this salve on his wounds?”

You nodded, watching Wanda stir whatever she had in the big bowl.

“We can get the big one in to help hold him down.” “Does it hurt him?” “It does, but it helps as well. I’ve already had to convince the big one that I’m helping him and not purposefully hurting.”

You let your fingers graze through Bucky’s hair, your breath catching in your throat at the way his head moved, as if he were seeking out your touch. You nodded, and Wanda walked to the window, unlatching it and pushing it open. She whistled a short tune, then closed the window. A few seconds later, you watched Steve exit the barn, wiping his feet before he walked into the room, eyes widening at the sight of you.

“Your Highness.”

You smiled at him and the short bow he gave, turning your attention back to Bucky. Wanda’s accented voice broke through the quiet.

“It is time to clean his wounds again.”

Steve blew out a breath, lifting a hand to rub at his bearded chin. You wiped the cloth over Bucky’s mouth, your fingers trailing through his hair. Steve stepped towards you, voice gentle.

“Princess, you don’t have to watch this. Clint will keep you company in the stables.”

You shook your head.

“I need to be here.”

Steve nodded, exchanging a look with Wanda. Steve murmured to Bucky as he gently began pushing him onto his stomach. Bucky groaned, painful moans escaping his lips as he went with Steve’s urges. You tried to shush him as best you could, touching his face and whispering to him. A horrified gasp escaped your lips when you saw the wounds on his back, how angry red they were, how some were seeping. Wanda and Steve exchanged another glance above where you had knelt at Bucky’s head.

“Your highness?”

You looked up to Wanda, who had a soft smile on her face.

“You stay there, try to keep him still. The big one and I can apply the salve.” “My name is Steve.” “I know your name, vysokiy.”

You and Steve exchanged a look, a smile crossing your face at the flush in his cheeks. The smile slid from your face as you met Wanda’s eyes, saw the compassion and sorrow there.

“He will fight. He may be weakened, but he is still strong. He won’t know what he’s doing and if he hurts you, he doesn’t mean it.”

You nodded, closing your eyes for just a moment.

“Brace yourself.”

You did, your heart shattering in your chest when Wanda laid a stripe of thick green paste over the lashes on Bucky’s back. Bucky gasped, then screamed, legs flying up as the salve burned into his skin. Tears came to your eyes when you listened to him scream, as Wanda gently layered the salve onto the lashes in his skin and you finally heard Steve calling your name, looking up.

“Talk to him! Calm him down.”

You shook your head, unsure of what to do, and Steve ground his teeth as he pressed Bucky’s shoulders down.

“Let him hear your voice.”

You looked back at Bucky, the tears sliding down his cheeks breaking your heart. He screamed again as Wanda spread more salve on his back and you knelt in front of him.

“Bucky! Bucky, calm down. Just breathe.”

Bucky’s eyes flew open, wild and glassy from the fever. You shushed him, taking his face in your hands.

“You’re okay. I’m here.”

He whispered your name and you nodded, smiling through the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Hi, Buck.”

He groaned and you moved closer, resting your forehead on his, feeling the blaze of his skin against yours.

“It’s okay, Bucky. I’m here.”

He murmured your name again, one shaky hand reaching for you. You took his hand, holding it in yours, kissing his fingers before bringing it to your chest. He gave quiet groans as Wanda and Steve spread the salve over his back, giving your hand intermittent squeezes. You whispered to him, words that you weren’t even sure made sense.

When Wanda quietly announced she was done, Bucky’s body relaxed. You smiled, blinking open your eyes in time to see Bucky lean back just enough to brush his nose against yours. Your eyes widened as he moved, wincing the slightest bit. You took the hand Steve offered you and stood to your feet, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of the chair he moved for you to the head of Bucky’s makeshift bed. You sat down and Steve moved the chair closer. He maneuvered Bucky just a bit, until Bucky’s head was on your lap. You stared at Bucky for a moment, shaking your head as you looked up to Steve, looking back down when Bucky gave a content sigh, quickly drifting back to sleep. You stared at his sleeping form, the furrow between his eyebrows that you gently smoothed away. Every touch of your hand seemed to relax him more, and you smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair, gently untangling the dark strands.

In the kitchen, Wanda smiled as she washed out the bowl she had used. Steve stood back, eyes in the room where Bucky slept on the Princess’ lap. He lifted a hand to his forehead, gently rubbing.

“Something on your mind, vysokiy?”

Steve swallowed.

“This … them … it can’t be. You must know that.” “I know that the heart is not something to be played around with.” “They can’t be together. This will just hurt them more in the end.” “Will it? You see him? He’s sleeping more restfully than he has since he regained consciousness. The infection is already calming.”

Steve shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter. She has to go back to the castle and he has to go back to being a guard. Not her guard, because her new husband won’t allow it.” “Her new husband is not her husband yet. There has been no wedding.” “One is coming. The whole kingdom knows it.”

Wanda turned to face him fully.

“And you think she will go through with it?”

Steve stared at her, head tilting slightly.

“What are you talking about?”

Wanda’s dark eyes danced from you and Bucky back to Steve.

“Surely you can feel the love between them as I do.”

Steve looked away, looking back when Wanda stepped closer to him.

“You think she’ll go through with marrying the monster who broke her heart by nearly killing the one who holds her heart?” “She doesn’t have a choice.” “There’s always a choice, vysokiy.”

Steve grabbed her wrist, his touch gentling when her fingers gently caressed his wrist.

“What do you know?” “Nothing as of yet. Is only a possibility.” “What is?”

Wanda looked to you, saw you dip your head to press your lips to the crown of Bucky’s head. She nodded.

“I do believe your Princess would rather die than be forced away from him.”

Steve dropped her hand, eyes flashing back to you and Bucky, who slept peacefully in your lap.

You stayed in the chair with Bucky’s head in your lap until the sun came up. He stirred, groaning softly before blinking his eyes open. His eyebrows drew together, confusion marring his features until he looked up and saw you smiling down at him.

“My lady?” “Good morning, Bucky. How are you feeling?”

Bucky blinked, as if he were unsure you were really there. You gently slipped your fingers through his hair again and his eyes drifted closed. You continued, his voice deep and sleepy.

“How are you here?” “I snuck out. Lady Jean is pretending to be me.”

Bucky moaned softly, realizing where his head had been laying. His cheeks flushed as he pushed himself up with a groan, and you quickly moved to help him sit up.

“Take it easy. Just breathe.”

He took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. You smiled, moving your hand from his bare shoulder to his neck. He groaned again, hanging his head.

“Just breathe, Bucky.” “When did you get here?”

You swallowed, gently rubbing the ball of his shoulder.

“Last night. I had to help Wanda and Steve dress your wounds. Which, it should be time to change the bandages. We had to apply them while you slept.”

Bucky watched as you lifted a strip of cloth from just under his shoulder blade.

“It might be easier if you lay back down.”

Bucky shook his head.

“No, I … I’d like to sit up.”

You smiled.

“Okay.”

You stepped away from him, going behind him.

“I’m sorry, this may hurt.” “I’ll be okay.”

You slowly lifted the bandages from his skin, some of the salve causing the bandages to stick. You pulled as gently as you could, wincing each time you heard Bucky hiss out a breath. When the final bandage was removed, you went to the bucket of water Clint had brought in before the sun rose. You dipped a fresh cloth into the water, bringing it back to gently clean Bucky’s back. He hissed at first, then moaned softly.

“I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. Just a bit tender.”

You nodded, tears blurring your eyes as you did your best to clean the wounds. Once the wounds were clean, you continued to pat the cloth over Bucky’s back, urged on by the pleased sighs leaving his lips. Soon, however, Bucky realized there was no rhyme or rhythm to your touches. The cloth was barely skimming over his skin, the gentlest of brushes.

“My lady?”

You didn’t answer, dropping your hand to your side, going back to the bucket and dipping the cloth back into it, wringing it almost dry.

“Princess?”

You laid your hands on the small table where the bucket sat. You hung your head, only turning when you heard Bucky move.

“Don’t try to get up. You’re weak.” “Why are you crying?”

You sniffled, shaking your head. Bucky held out his hand and you took it in both of yours, stepping forward at his gentle pull.

“Are those tears for me, sweet Princess?”

You nodded, closing your eyes as you moved one hand to brush his hair back from his face, the other grasping tightly to his hand.

“I’m so sorry.” “What could you possibly be sorry for?”

You lifted your head when Bucky gently pushed at your chin, tears shining in your eyes when his icy blues met yours. He shook his head and you gave a shaky sigh.

“It’s because of me. John did this to you because of—“ “Don’t…”

Bucky shook his head, clenching his jaw before he looked back to you.

“He did this. Not you.” “But he did it because of me. He wanted to teach me a lesson and he knew hurting you would be the best way to hurt me.”

You lowered your head again and Bucky shifted to push your chin up again.

“Don’t hide from me, Princess. Let me look at you.”

You swallowed, stepping closer to him.

“I hate him.” “I know.” “They’re going to make me marry him and I—“ “Shh.”

You were careful to keep your arms by your side when Bucky pulled you into his arms. You didn’t want to touch his back and cause him any sort of pain, but you couldn’t help resting your head against his shoulder. You lifted a hand to cup his face, closing your eyes when you felt his rough beard against your scalp.

“I know he won’t allow me to guard you anymore.” “I know.” “If I could change it, Princess …”

You lifted your head, nose brushing against Bucky’s chin.

“I wish it could be you.”

Bucky’s hands tightened around you and you gave a shaky sigh.

“My lady—“ “Don't say that he’ll be a good king or that I’ll grow to love him. I won’t. I won’t ever love anyone, Bucky. No one but—“ “Please don’t.”

You couldn’t stop the sob, your hand tightening just a bit on his face, resting your palm against his cheek. Bucky closed his eyes, his voice pitched low.

“You have to go back.” “I don’t want to.” “I know.” “I get this terrible feeling that I’ll never see you again.”

You shook your head, moving back until you could look him in the eyes.

“I can’t live the rest of my life without you.” “You can, Princess. You’re strong.” “I’m not.”

Bucky reached out, taking your face in his hands, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs.

“You deserve more than a lowly castle guard.” “I deserve someone who loves me, and that monster never will. I can’t live like that, Bucky. I can’t.”

He swallowed at the sureness of your words, rubbing his thumbs under your eyes again, causing them to close. He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to your forehead, the place where your crown usually sat. You lifted your hands to hold onto his thick forearms as he spoke again.

“You have to go back.”

You shook your head, a smile coming to his lips at your stubbornness.

“You can’t turn your back on the kingdom.” “The kingdom doesn’t care about me. The only thing I’m good for is marrying someone who can rule because I never can.”

You opened your eyes, looking into his again.

“Do you know what he said to me while we were walking one day? He said maybe I won’t be as useless as my mother and actually give him a worthy heir.”

You shook your head.

“How can you say I should go back to that?”

Bucky looked down at your still-joined hands.

“It’s your duty as Princess—“ “I don’t care about duty!”

You let go of his hands and stood up, shaking your head as you looked at him.

“The only thing in this world I care about is you. It broke my heart when John tortured you the way that he did. Look at me, Bucky. I snuck out of the castle to get to you. I knew what a risk it was and I couldn’t help myself.”

You’d been pacing the small area, stopping and turning to him.

“He doesn’t love me. He never will, and I know that. Deep in my bones, I can feel it. But you …”

Bucky hung his head, putting his face in his hands. You could feel the cracks in your heart, the break beginning. The cracks only deepened when he lifted his head, pain-filled eyes meeting yours.

“I can’t give you anything.” “You think I care about jewels or gold?” “What about food? I have nothing, Princess. I am nothing.”

You shook your head, going to him and taking his hands as you knelt before him.

“You’re everything, Bucky. If I never step foot in another castle, that would be fine with me. As long as I had you.”

Bucky stared down at your hands, shaking his head.

“You have to go back.”

You felt the cracks in your heart deepening even more.

“You won’t even try, will you?” “There’s nothing to try. My duty is to guard the castle and your duty is—“ “To marry a monster whose cruelty towards me brings him such joy.”

You shook your head, giving a sharp laugh at the tears welling up in your eyes. You stared into Bucky’s eyes, the pain you felt reflected in the stormy grey of his orbs. You slowly nodded, turning away from him.

“Princess…”

You didn’t turn back at his voice, as much as it hurt. Bucky noticed then the weight on your shoulders, the way every breath seemed heavy from your chest. He called you by your name and you turned, lifting pain-filled eyes to his. He went still, the sad smile you put on your face breaking his heart, along with the words you said.

“I love you, James. And I’ll never love anyone but you.”

The tears sparkling in your eyes made him want to run to you, but you turned away before he could move. He hung his head as he listened to your footsteps walk away, curling back up on the bed once the closing of the door signaled your departure.

“Your Highness? Prince John would like you to meet him in the dining hall. He wants to discuss the food for the wedding feast.”

You continued to stare out the window, taking a breath before you acknowledged Lady Jean.

“Tell the future king that whatever he desires is fine with me.” “He wants to get your input on some things, my lady.”

You pulled your dull, tired eyes from the window.

“I highly doubt that. But you know what I like, Lady Jean. Speak in my stead.” “It’s not my wedding, your grace.” “It’s not mine, either.”

Jean sighed, closing the door behind her as she made her way to you.

“You must leave this room, dear. Let’s take a stroll around the gardens.”

You turned your head towards her again.

“He cut down my tree. Did you know that?”

Jean knelt beside you, reaching a hand up to gently stroke your hair.

“He reinstated James. Did you know that?”

You shook your head.

“He’s a castle guard now, but he’s here. I could bring him to you.” “John would never allow that.” “Then we could take that walk and be sure to find him.”

You smiled sadly.

“I told him I love him. That I’d never love anyone but him.”

Jean’s hand fell from your hair. You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes again.

“I think I’d just like to stay here.” “Princess…” “Thank you, Jean. That will be all.”

Jean sighed, standing to her feet, laying her hand against your head before turning and leaving. You took in a breath, folding your arms and placing them on the windowsill, putting your head on your arms and crying.

When the moon was high in the sky and the castle was at rest, you crept as quietly as you could from your room. The guard outside your door, one wearing Prince John’s family crest, was asleep. He had his chin against his chest, quiet snores leaving his lips. You shook your head and silently crept past him, pulling your cloak tighter around you. You went for the winding staircase, making your way to the castle’s roof. Once there, you untied your cloak, letting it fall to the stones you slowly walked across. You stopped at the edge, leaning over the railing there, your heart fluttering at the distance to the ground.

You took in a breath and let it out slowly, taking hold of the railing and lifting yourself up. You slowly stood on top of the edge of the stone balcony, looking straight ahead instead of down.

If you looked down, you’d never do what you set out to do.

You closed your eyes, trying your best to clear your mind. You didn’t want to think of Jean or your parents or John and especially not Bucky. You lifted your head, the night wind rolling over you like a cold caress, cutting through the thin gown you wore to bed.

“Princess?”

You opened your eyes, the breath catching in your throat.

No.

“My lady, please. I need you to step down from there.”

Not him. Anyone but him.

“Princess, I can’t make it down fast enough to catch you. So that means I … I’ll have to follow you.” “You’re not my guard anymore.” “Maybe not where the future king is concerned, but I’ll always protect you.”

You turned your head then, tears welling up in your eyes when you saw him.

“Is that what you did when you sent me away? You were protecting me? By pushing me towards that monster?” “Take my hand and we can talk.”

Bucky stepped forward, hand outstretched to you. You shook your head, the stone ledge digging into your bare feet.

“I can’t live like this. I can’t marry him. His cruelty is constant and I can’t even begin to imagine what he’ll do when I’m his wife. He already treats me like he owns me and I can’t … I won’t live like that.”

You squared your shoulders, looking back out over the kingdom.

“If you do this, then you must know that I’m coming after you.”

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Bucky staring up at you on the ledge.

“I can’t live in a world where you’re not.”

Your shoulders dropped at that. As a quiet sob broke free from your chest, Bucky stepped even closer, hand outstretched towards you. You put your hand in his and he stepped even closer as you bent down, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slid one arm around you, the other under your knees. He held you close as you put your face in his neck, and he knelt to the ground, keeping you in his arms. You stayed holding onto him, the warmth of his body bleeding through his armor and into you.

You couldn't say anything. Tears slipped from your eyes and onto him, but Bucky didn’t speak either. He just knelt there on the castle roof, holding you, for what seemed like hours.

You stood on the balcony outside your chamber, staring out over the hazy day. Dark clouds were rolling over the hills in the distance, an ominous appearance to what should have been the happiest day of your life. You hadn’t slept well, your dreams invaded with hopeless, dark images and wolf howls. You exhaled slowly, closing your eyes, blinking them open again.

You tilted your head, the hooded figure at the edge of the trees sending a chill up your spine. You instinctively knew that was Wanda, and you felt a pull towards her. You watched her come to a stop at the tree line, hands coming out from under her cloak, twisting and turning and you would swear they were glowing red. You would also swear that she was looking right at you, and you turned, hurrying from your chamber. You were halfway down the steps before you realized how empty the castle was, considering your wedding ceremony and feast were tonight. You lifted your skirts and ran through the open doors, hurrying down past the stables. The closer you got to the tree line, the further away it seemed Wanda slipped. You jumped at a crack of thunder, glancing over your shoulder to see Bucky stop in his tracks on a balcony of the castle. You stopped as he did, watching him shake his head and call for you.

You’re not sure what came over you. You felt as though your body wasn’t your own as you turned and ran into the forest. You called for Wanda, but got no response. You kept running, sucking in a breath when you heard the commotion behind you, of the guards mounting their horses to come after you.

“Wanda! I know that was you. Where are you?”

You went still when you heard a wolf howl, glancing over your shoulder when you heard snarls and yips close by. You watched a pack of wolves walk out of the trees and slowly surround you. You swallowed, closing your eyes and wishing you could have had one more moment with Bucky.

You gasped as a wolf snapped its jaws at you, and you backed into a thorn bush, cutting your arm. You yelped when another wolf did the same thing, gasping when a wolf bit your gown, tugging until it ripped. On your other side, another wolf did the same thing. You didn’t want to run because you knew you couldn’t outrun the wolves. But you noticed strangely that the wolves weren’t trying to hurt you. They seemed more preoccupied with tearing your gown.

You turned and cut your other arm on the thorn bush, your blood dripping onto the scraps of your gown on the ground. One of the wolves threw its head back and gave a loud howl, your eyes widening when a larger wolf stepped out of the trees. You noticed something in this wolf’s mouth, a vial that seemed familiar to you, but you didn’t know why. The wolf stopped directly in front of you, tilting his head to the side before dropping the vial at your feet. A strange crimson smoke wafted from your feet up to your nose, and you inhaled deeply.

You stared into the wolf’s eyes, your mouth opening as your breathing sped up. Pain shot through your body, and you threw your head back and screamed. You fell to your knees and screamed again, the pain seeming to completely encompass you. The wolves began snapping at you and howling, your screams interspersed with their howls. You gave a gasping, wet gurgle, feeling like your heart was trying to burst out of your chest. A quiet groan was the last sound you could make before you collapsed, the pain too much for you to handle.

You were hanging on the edge of consciousness, unsure of what was happening. You could swear you felt the wolves’ nudging you with their noses, causing you to roll over onto your belly. You were sure you felt claws scratch one leg, then the other, until a quiet yip sounded. You felt the wolves nudge you again, and you felt yourself be lifted, placed onto something soft and warm. You felt wind against your skin, and the cool drops of rain against your face was the last thing you felt before you lost consciousness.

As storms raged through the kingdom, a blanket of grief settled over the castle. Your mother refused to leave her chamber, demanding the curtains closed and shrouding herself in darkness. Your father seemed to be in a fog. John saw no reason to stay, leaving his condolences before heading back to his kingdom.

Lady Jean Grey was inconsolable, sitting in your chamber and weeping. The castle was quiet and dark, and from his place on a balcony, Bucky decided he’d prefer to be publicly whipped every day of his life than to have to live with this godforsaken pain.

He stood unmoving in the rain, soaked to the skin, completely numb. He kept his eyes trained towards the woods, hoping against all odds that you’d step through the tree line. Steve stayed beside him, sometimes trying to talk with him, most of the time just standing by.

Every time Bucky closed his eyes, he saw you. The sweet smiles you only gave to him, the way your eyes lit up when he was near. He could feel your gentle touch, reminders of the comfort only you could bring when he was at Wanda’s cottage. He could hear your laughter that only happened when he did something that tickled you, the soft way you said his name, the only one besides Steve who could call him Bucky.

It was a pain he never wanted, a grief so heavy and sharp he wasn’t sure he’d survive.

He’d fallen to his knees when he and the rest of the guards arrived at the clearing in the woods, in the midst of the remnants of what was to be your wedding gown strewn about, soaked with your blood. The howls of the wolves as they’d retreated had him reaching for his sword, but his hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t take hold. He’d managed to pick up a scrap of lace that was tattered at one end, soaked with rain or wolf saliva, he didn’t know. It was now tucked close to the place where his heart once beat.

They hadn’t found your body before the rains fell, but from the noises he’d heard, your screams and the howls and snarls of the wolves, everyone knew your fate.

Now, Bucky just stood. If the castle fell under attack, he’d rush to the front line. He wouldn’t put up much of a fight, and perhaps one day they’d say he died a noble death. Steve would know the truth, but he wouldn’t speak of it. Until then, Bucky would focus on trying to breathe through the weight of his grief.

As the sun started its descent, Bucky gazed over the tree line. A hooded figure stood in the distance, face shrouded by a cloak. Bucky watched hands appear from under the cloak, turning and fingers moving, pops of red glowing around the digits. He turned to the guard at the other end of the balcony, found him with his eyes closed, chin resting against his chest. Bucky swallowed, looking back out to see the figure turn away, cloak falling to reveal a head of fiery red hair, hand flicking above her head as she walked away.

“Wanda.”

Bucky turned and left his post, hurrying into the castle and down the steps, not realizing how empty the castle was. He burst through the doors and ran for the trees, bursting into the forest before he heard—and ignored— Steve calling his name.

Bucky ran through the forest, armor clanging with every move he made. He stopped, a strange feeling coming over him as he quickly removed his armor, leaving it in a pile with his sword carefully on top before he continued running. He burst into a clearing, looking from left to right, going still when he heard the howl of a wolf much too nearby. He closed his eyes when he realized where he was, the same clearing where he’d found all that was left of you. He opened his eyes again to find wolves surrounding him, on every side and at every turn. He reached for his sword, hands falling to his sides when he realized his armor was far behind him.

As the wolves snarled and bared their teeth at him, his only thought was, if the gods had mercy on him, at least he’d see you again soon.

He closed his eyes, jolting when he felt a wolf bite at his pants, opening his eyes and trying to pull his leg away, only to hear the seam rip. The wolf shook it’s head with a mouthful of fabric before spitting it out and growling at Bucky. Bucky braced himself when the wolves charged at him at once, only to quickly realize they weren’t trying to hurt him; it seemed they only wanted to rip his clothes. Bucky hissed out a breath when his now-bare arm swiped a thorn bush, blood dripping from the cut onto his tattered clothes.

He went still when a much larger wolf stepped into the clearing, a strange vial in its mouth that seemed to glow red. Bucky stood as still as he could, until the wolf stopped before him, staring into his eyes until the wolf dropped the vial, deep red smoke curling from Bucky’s feet into his nostrils as he inhaled.

Bucky winced as pain shot through his chest. He coughed, choking a bit before a pain-filled scream left his lips. He couldn’t stop the screams as pain wracked his body, and he hit his knees, hands scrabbling at his chest as he coughed and moaned. He fell forward, landing against something soft, instead of flat on his face in the dirt. Quiet moans left his lips as he felt claws against his legs, and he felt his body being shifted. He managed to catch a glimpse of lightning streaking across the sky before raindrops fell against his overheated skin. As he felt wind whip his face, his only thought was of you, wondering if just maybe, you’d be waiting for him in heaven.

The damp, cool cloth felt like heaven against Bucky’s overheated skin. Fever raged through his body, but gentle caresses and the cloth helped. He kept hearing a soft, familiar voice repeat his name, but the fever kept pushing him down into unconsciousness.

“Sleep,” the gentle voice murmured. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Bucky whispered the name of his lost Princess, asleep before he could hear the voice’s response.

“His fever should have broken by now.” “Perhaps he still had some infection in him.” “You said you got rid of that.” “I don’t know what to tell you, velichiye. Your fever lasted almost as long.”

Bucky was hovering on the edge of consciousness, two feminine voices reaching his ears. He tried to open his eyes, but they were so heavy. He gave a quiet moan, the swishing of skirts filling the space before a damp cloth was pressed to his cheek.

“It’s okay, Bucky. Everything is alright.”

He murmured nonsense as he reached out, a soft hand linking with his before lips pressed against his palm.

“Rest, my love.”

Bucky murmured again, sinking back to sleep, holding tight to the hand still holding his.

It was quiet when Bucky woke, still dark due to the sun not yet risen. Bucky blinked open sleepy eyes, groaning softly as he pushed himself to a sitting position, yawning widely as he held onto the edge of the bed he was more than familiar with. He stretched his sore arms, eyes falling on the figure seated across from his bed. She had a soft smile on her face, kindness and love in her eyes. Bucky’s arms fell to his sides as she stood, setting aside the book that had been in her hands, skirts swishing as she made her way to him.

“Good morning, kind sir.”

Bucky shook his head, eyes locked onto hers.

“How? H—how?”

She just smiled at him, and Bucky launched himself off the bed, taking her in his arms and holding tightly. She gave a quiet laugh, her arms snaking around him to hold on just as tightly. Bucky shook his head, hands sliding over her shoulders, down her back, holding her head carefully. He leaned back, looking into familiar eyes, her name slipping from his lips.

Your name.

“Princess, how are you—“ “Well, we can start there. I’m not a Princess anymore.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and you shrugged a shoulder.

“Technically, I’m dead.”

A chill shot through Bucky and he reached for your hand, pulling you with him as he sat back on the bed. You sat beside him and he turned to face you, keeping your hand in his.

“Explain it to me.”

You smiled, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear. You were lighter here, your shoulders not weighted down. You were freer with your touches with no one watching over you. Bucky couldn’t help but smile back at you.

“It was Wanda. She’s a witch, Bucky.” “So she's … cast a spell on us?”

You shook your head.

“No, the … the wolves. The wolves are hers, and she sent them after us.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed and you sighed.

“She called to me on the day of my wedding. I saw her at the edge of the forest, and I went after her. It wasn’t until I got to the trees that I heard you call for me.”

Bucky closed his eyes at the sharp pain that memory brought with it. He’d sworn he’d locked eyes with you a second before you ducked into the forest. He’d called for the guards to mount up and go after you, but it seemed to take so long. It wasn’t until they heard your screams that the panic set in and they rode through the forest to the clearing, where your bloody, tattered clothes were all that was left of you.

Your gentle squeeze of his hand brought him out of his memories, and he locked eyes with you a moment before he leaned forward, one hand behind your head gently bringing your forehead to rest against his. You closed your eyes and gave a happy sigh, your voice quiet as you continued.

“One of the wolves held a vial that Wanda had created. Whatever was in it hurt terribly when I breathed it in, and that was the screaming you heard. The pain caused me to faint, and the wolves brought me here. Whatever was in the vial wasn’t just painful, it made me sick. I was laid up with a fever for a few days until it left my system.”

Bucky leaned back, watching your eyes flutter open.

“The same thing happened to me. The wolf dropped the vial and whatever that red smoke was … it was so painful.”

You nodded.

“But it helped with the story. The wolves were howling and snarling and we were screaming in pain.”

Bucky slowly nodded in agreement.

“So it appears we were killed in a wolf attack.”

You nodded again. He took your hand again, raising it to his lips and kissing your knuckles. After a moment, his icy blue eyes met yours.

“What happens now?”

You smiled, the joy on your face lighting the room more brilliantly than the rising sun.

“Now, we can do whatever we want. We can leave here and go wherever. We can be normal commoners and no one will think twice.”

Bucky stared at you, his voice low.

“We can never go back to the kingdom.”

Your smile faltered.

“No, I … no. We can’t.”

You looked down at your hand entwined with Bucky’s.

“I’ve made my peace with never seeing my mother or father again. Or Jean.”

Your eyes widened when you met Bucky’s eyes again.

“But I didn’t … oh, Bucky. You’ll never see Steve again. Or Clint, or any of your friends.”

You shook your head, trying to pull your hand from his. Bucky tightened his hold, moving his other hand to trap yours between both of his. You lifted tear-filled eyes to his and he shook his head. He smiled as he caressed your hand.

“I’m fine with that. I can make my peace with it, too.” “You didn’t ask for this.” “No, I asked for you.”

Bucky smiled as he gave your hand a tug, and you moved closer to him. He lifted a hand to run the tips of his fingers down from your forehead to your jaw before resting his palm against your neck.

“I will do whatever it takes to be with you.” “Really?” “Absolutely.”

You leaned forward, catching him off guard as you laid your lips on his. Bucky cradled your face in his hands as he kissed you, a relief flooding his veins as he was finally free to touch you the way he always wanted.

TAGS: @badthingshappenbingo, @writing-in-the-dark-bingo, @fanficocean

#bucky barnes x female reader #marvel au #marvel reader insert #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu au #mcu reader insert #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #princess reader #royalty au #bucky x reader

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fandoms-writings · 3 years ago

Text

Hiding in the Shadows

Part 1 - Engagement

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

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

Word Count: 6.6k

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

Series Masterlist | Bucky Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~•~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~•~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~•~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~•~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing could pull your attention from him.

Not even the monster hiding in the shadows.

Watching and waiting.

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

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

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sunshinebuckybarnes · 2 years ago

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Another month, another rec list ✨ As always please check individual warnings for each fic. You are responsible for your own media consumption. This blog, and the majority tagged, are 18+ only and most of these fics contain adult themes.

Please give these insanelly talented folk some much desereved love 💕

Ransom Drysdale

Take one by @sweaterwearingdumbdork

Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

House cat by @sidepartskinnyjeans

Ransom Drysdale x reader

Bucky Barnes

*Heaven (won't) help you by @musingsinmoonlight

Dark prince!bucky barnes x female princess reader (modern royalty AU)

Whatever it takes by @angrythingstarlight

Mafia!Bucky x Reader

Sunrise kisses by @buckies-dolle

roommate!Bucky x fem!reader

Blow me away by @angrythingstarlight

Chubby!Baker Bucky x Reader

Just a little crpush by @sidepartskinnyjeans

Bucky Barnes x Reader

*Good to you by @sinner-as-saint

Boyfriend’s Dad!Mob!Bucky x Reader

Video call by @metalbuckaroo

DBF!bucky x f!reader

Waiting on fate by @kinanabinks

CEO!Bucky x reader

The louder the better by @theluxuriousfangirl

Bucky x Female Reader

*Portofino by @buckybleu

mafia!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Split you in two by @angrythingstarlight

Beefy Lumberjack Bucky x reader

Pink daisies by @buckyhoney

dom!bucky barnes x reader

Meet me in the city by @buckys-dollface

Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

*A sweet old fashioned notion by @sidepartskinnyjeans

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Keep me warm by @metalbuckaroo

SugarDaddy!Bucky x F!Reader

After all these years by @softlysteven

bucky barnes x reader

Thank you, daddy by @sweeterthanthis

Sugar Daddy!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

There's always one by @summerofsnowflakes

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Avengers Reader

*Petal by @navybrat817

Beefy florist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (Petal)

Sam Wilson

Rulebreaker by @fluffyprettykitty

Sam Wilson x fem! reader

Steve Rogers

Wish you were here by @jobean12-blog

Steve Rogers x reader

Make you remember by @maroonsunrise83

Steve Rogers x black female reader

Spiced cider by @beefybuckrrito

Neighbour!steve x reader

Kiss my skin by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

Steve Rogers x Reader

*His inheritance by @jtargaryen18

Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers

*Permanent by @navybrat817

Tattooist bucky barnes x female reader x tattooist steve rogers

Sugar by @ramp-it-up

College Steve x College Reader; College Bucky x College Reader

Lee Bodecker

Out of sight, out of mind by @honeystevie

lee bodecker x asian!reader

Destoryer!Chris

Never his by @navybrat817

Destoryer!Chris x reader

Steve Kemp

The hand that feeds by @shamevillain

Steve Kemp x Reader

Jake Jensen

Sweet dreams by @sidepartskinnyjeans

Jake Jensen X Reader

Steve Rogers & Peggy Carter & Bucky Barnes

*Parfois, Vous Avez Besoin D'un Public by @imanuglywombat

Steve Rogers x Reader x Peggy Carter x Bucky Barnes

Ari Levinson

Never enough by @jobean12-blog

Ari Levinson x reader

Splash by @beefybuckrrito

dad's best friend!Ari Levinson x f!reader

#fic rec #may fic recs #ransom drysdale #bucky barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers #lee bodecker #destroyer!chris #steve kemp #jake jensen #ari levinson

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sanguineterrain · 3 years ago

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marvel masterlist

note: some fics are linked to ao3.

all of my readers use female pronouns unless noted otherwise.

ONE-SHOTS.

☆ brooklyn honey. ─ 1940s!bucky barnes x reader

life in the city ain’t always so pretty, but you’ve got bucky and he’s got you. (fluff, slight angst)

☆ think of me. ─ 1940s!bucky barnes x reader

bucky realizes he’s gone for you, but you’re not for him. (angst)

☆ warmth. ─ tfatws!bucky barnes x reader (no gendered pronouns)

after the club scene in madripoor, you remind bucky that he’s still good. (angst and fluff)

☆ go easy. ─ bucky barnes x reader (no gendered pronouns)

written for the #healinghandschallenge! bucky barnes healing from touch starvation. (fluff, comfort)

☆ better love. ─ bucky barnes x reader (no gendered pronouns)

you're helping him learn who he is, who he'll become. bucky doesn't know much about that, doubts he'll ever become more than he used to be. but he's sure that wherever he's going, he wants you by his side. (angst, recovering bucky, read warnings, fluffy ending).

☆ and the beauty of it all. ─ loki laufeyson x reader (ao3)

you and loki manage to sneak away from a palace celebration—you have the brilliant idea to go swimming. (fluff)

SERIES.

♡ the mess. ─ bucky barnes x reader (ao3, series complete)

one wild night in vegas changes everything between you and bucky. now you’re stuck together for what looks like the foreseeable future. except, you hate bucky barnes. and he hates you. right? (fluff, angst, enemies/idiots to lovers)

♡ no such thing. ─ college!bucky barnes x reader (series complete)

you’ve been assigned to write a column for your school paper on the team’s spectacular center. you don’t care very much for your university’s football team; you just can’t understand the hype, okay? turns out your distaste for football bigheads was exactly on point: james barnes is insufferable. (rivalry/enemies to lovers, college au, football jock!bucky, reader is a sassy gal)

♡ on wings of fate. ─ knight!steve rogers x princess!fem!reader x pirate!bucky barnes (series in progress)

you meet a kind stranger one day in the marketplace. he's a pirate, but a good man, he swears. your knight isn't so sure, but oh, what does he know? you like the pirate; his eyes are like the sea and his smile... oh, his smile is trouble. yet from the moment he docked at your kingdom's port, you just may have bargained for more than the three of you could ever imagined. (royalty/pirate au, fantasy, adventure, they’re all absolutely head over heels for each other <3 )

♡ redemption at sundown. ─ outlaw!bucky barnes x outlaw!reader x marshal!steve rogers (ao3, series on hold)

you and bucky barnes are, perhaps, the best couple of thieves this side of the rockies. grief for bankers and sheriffs alike, you two are firmly planted on one side of the law—the one with no rules to the game. then, during a job that nearly goes sideways, you chance upon a meeting with the infuriatingly virtuous U.S. marshal rogers. he’s six-foot-two of the worst kind of trouble, ‘cause steve rogers is a good man. and good men always complicate things. (slight enemies to lovers, established relationship, old west au)

BLURBS.

▻ college nerd!bucky x fem!reader

▻ steve rogers x fem!reader ─ “when i say run, i need you to do as i say and don't even think about me."

▻ 40s!steve rogers x fem!reader ─ steve returns from war and seeks out the reader.

▻ steve rogers x fem!reader ─ SMUT. dom!steve.

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #loki x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #enemies to lovers #1940s bucky barnes #my writing

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

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where does it end?

Pairing: Queen!Reader x Knight!Bucky Barnes

Warning(s): angst, sexual themes, triggering content, dark!steve

A/N: by @lookiamtrying request, i am posting the last part to an year old mini fanfic i wrote. last chapter inspired by love me or leave me. enjoy xx

The world had barely seen the Queen ever since her loss. She was locked in her room and never left for any reason. Steve had been assigned her duties and her meals were taken into her chambers by her handmaidens. She had even moved her King and husband from her room. No one heard from her and some handmaidens were quick to start coming up with the wildest of theories while some believed she could be expecting, but James knew it wasn’t the truth.

- The King’s calling for you, Sir Barnes. - Natalia walked into the training chambers where he was supervising some new blood into the royal army. James sighed, turning to his second and telling him to take his place before following the redhead into the King’s headquarters.

He wasn’t very keen on talking to him much less look at him. James despised him with every drop of his being but yet he couldn’t figure out if it was because he had gotten the ultimate prize or if he had threatened to have her head cut off due to infidelity which had never happen.

They finally stopped in front of the King’s Quarters which had been the young Queen’s library and now rudely turned into somewhere where Lord Rogers rudely tried to take her place. He was royalty but he didn’t have the grace or the beautiful ruling ability the Queen had.

- Your Royal Highness ... - the redheaded female knocked on the huge mahogany doors whose initials had been removed. She slowly opened the door to see the blonde reading some papers. - Sir Barnes is here, as you requested.

- Thank you, Lady Romanova. - he said, not even looking up from his papers. Natalia took James inside, leaving him there only hearing his heartbeat and the wood crackling on the fireplace. He heard the doors closing behind and his last conversation with the king came to mind.

- Your Majesty, what do you wish from me? - no matter how hard he disliked the man, he was still his King and while Y/N was unavailable, he’d have to answer to him and only him.

- You are a smart man, Sir Barnes. My advisors say you take it after your father, ever so calculating. You’re a man who, like me, knows that despite our dear Queen being ever so thoughtful, ever so loved, she has one job that she needs to do as a Royal of her gender. Can you tell me what is it?

- Provide heirs to ensure the house keeps on. - James refused to look Steve in the eyes. He didn’t understand where he was going, he didn’t understand why he asked that. - What does that have to do with me, your majesty?

- She refuses to see me and since she’s the rightful heir, her advisors have suggested another husband for the Queen considering we won’t produce any heirs. - Steve got up from his seat walking up to one of the countless shelves filled with books owned by the crown family. - I’ve spent years in my brother’s shade, heir in spare and I will not have my marriage annulled and lose my crown because my wife refuses to lay with me.

- I don’t understand what that has to do with me, Your Majesty.

- My wife clearly doesn’t want to lay with me but she doesn’t seem to have minded laying with you before we were married. At this point I don’t care who the child is as long as she’s pregnant.

Bucky’s heart sank into his stomach as his brain started to process what he was asking of him. It couldn’t be, he wouldn’t want that, Bucky couldn’t do that. His eyes seemed void of life as he looked up at his King whose position was so so fickle.

- I don’t think I understand, your Majesty. - Bucky hoped he didn’t understand, he really hoped he was wrong.

- What part of fuck my wife do you not understand, Sir Barnes? - he growled at the man standing in front of him. - I will not be thrown off my rightful throne because my wife refuses to get knocked up.

- With all due respect, your Majesty, it is her rightful throne. She’s the heir.

- You see, Sir Barnes I really don’t wanna accuse my wife of adultery. It will end up in her beheading and I really don’t think the people would enjoy that. Besides, of course I will pay you a good amount for your service and it’s not like I will deprive you of seeing the child. - Bucky could feel himself churn at the thought of the man so many called loyal and rightful treat Y/N as if she were a breeding dog, as if she were a business, as if she wasn’t the human with the heart of gold he knew she had.

No, no, Bucky couldn’t do that to her. He knew his Queen like the palm of his heart, she was sweet, fair and anyone who’s by her company normally basks in her light which seems to reflect of her own words. He couldn’t agree to treat her as if she was merely a breeding object but he also couldn’t allow for her to be beheaded. It terrified him to see the face he used to love to wake up next to, her little smirky whenever she stole swords from knights as her princess, her sunny smile whenever she performed an operetta correctly gone. He couldn’t see her gone. No. He had promised to protect his sovereign and she would always be her Queen.

- I cannot do that.

- Your father fought to protect this kingdom. I am fighting to protect it too, you cannot let a woman rule by herself, who’ll inherit the throne? Besides, you surely didn’t mind fucking her like a cheap whore when she wasn’t married.

- Your wife has always been loyal to you since her marriage. I’ve told you that before.

- Then I think you have a choice to make.

Bucky felt the world collapse on top of his. Through his mind rushed the moments he had shared with her, from the very first moment he met her sitting at one of her mother’s teas, pink frilly dress, the smile she gave him to her wedding when he refused to stop the ceremony. He wondered if he should’ve had stopped but he also wondered what life he could’ve given her. It didn’t matter anymore, he should’ve stopped it, he should’ve done something. He thought of the life she could’ve had if he had stopped her, she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant, she wouldn’t have lost the baby, he wouldn’t have disappointed her once again and she wouldn’t be traded around like a harlot.

As he exited the study, he knew what he had to do. He had to take her away from the kingdom as sure as possible, send her to one of their allies, maybe to one of her younger sister’s kingdoms gained by marriage, anywhere that could aid her in stopping what was happening behind her back.

- Don’t. - he turned around to see his wife, Natalia. She held a cold look in her face, too cold contrasted to her fiery red hair but he still could point out the crack in the ice of her eyes. It was still there, begging. - I know what you’re thinking about, James. Don’t do it.

- Get off my way, Natalia. - she stood in front of him like an unmovable rock, stronger than the tide itself, never stopping. - I won’t say it again.

- Just sleep with her, James. He’ll pay you well and we could leave this, we could maybe buy a piece of land, start over. - jealousy is a damned thing, he realised. He realised jealousy had shaped the wife once friend who he had known all his life as someone who knew right from wrong, it had shaped her into a cunning woman, one which knew how to ride the problem of her marriage away. But she couldn’t erase the problem, she could never get what was already someone else’s, no matter how hard she tried. - You’ll only end up getting yourself killed.

- Move.

- No, James.

- Do not make me hurt you. - he stepped closer to the red head, close enough he could feel her breathing on his face, fists clenched.

- Would you hurt your wife for her?

Yes. The answer was yes but he wouldn’t say it to her. Instead he shoved her away from him, watching as his lack of answer broke through her cold facade allowing him to overpower her. Natalia watched as he strode through the halls, not even looking back. He had been gone a long, long time away, but now, now he was walking away and she stood in the corridor, on her knees, stubborn soul refusing for the tears gathered on her eyes to stream down her face, hate growing where love once blossomed.

Bucky strode through the corridors, the phantom of Y/N still haunting him as if the memory of younger, better days were pulling at his brain like bottled regrets. She would always let her hand close to his, hoping for him to grab it and he never did, he never did. He wondered why he never did. As he stepped closer to her chambers, he could see her handmaids surrounding the door, still locked out and not allowed in.

- You’re needed elsewhere. - he spoke in a tone which left no room for interpretation. The girls immediately rush away, fears of the man which seemed to had turned bitter with time too present in their minds. Bucky didn’t care or feel any pity for them. They had comfortable lives, they didn’t need pity, they needed to be away from the Queen.

His hand went straight to the door handle, pushing it open but the door didn’t budge. Y/N was still locked in. He tried in, hoping the door would cave in but once again it didn’t. They weren’t supposed to cave in. His fists started banging against the gold encrusted door and had he not lost his flesh arm long years ago, it would’ve started bleeding from the force alone.

- Open the door, Y/N! - desperation dripped from his voice but she herself, like the door didn’t cave in.

- Stop banging on the door and go away, James. - he could hear her from the other door. So close and yet so far away.

- Open this door or so help me I will break it down myself. - Y/N didn’t doubt him. She knew what his arm could do but she was also much too smart not to get hurt again. Nevertheless, she unlocked the door, turning the small golden key held by the lock and he immediately pushed the door open. Her eyes scanned him, he was deranged, like an animal in the wild.

- Get out, James. I swear I will call the guards on you.

- We need to go. - he walked into her bedroom, straight to the hanger where her cape hanged from. Grabbing it, he threw it at her but Y/N remained in her spot, no affection for him in his face. Had he not been so concerned for her head remaining on her shoulders, it would’ve hurt him. - I said we need to go, Y/N.

- You don’t get to order me around.

- Do you still love me? - the question took Y/N by surprise. Almost as if something had hit her, she took a few steps back, looking behind her to see that not so far away there were some guards. She could just call for them.

- James, I will call the gu ...

- Do you still love me? - he interrupted the young queen, punctuating every single word like a stab on an already aching heart. There was no saint, there was no devil, just two aching hearts filled with scars that were starting to harden the youthful hope it used to harbour.

Did she still love him? Yes. She can’t find the words to tell him, head and heart bleeding in negative thoughts. She could never say to him she didn’t and whenever she told him she did, he would turn his face and walk away leaving her broken, shattered on the floor by a love surely classic love tales warned her about. In her memory everything still burned from when he said he didn’t love her from when he called himself a mere companion. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him she loved him so instead she nodded.

- I have to get you out right now. I’ll explain later. - he stepped towards her but there was no ice cold nature to him, no violence. Instead, he slide the cape behind her, tying it around her neck before placing the hood over her head. It was a bleak brown cape she would use whenever going into the town’s market.

His hand wrapped around hers as he turned the opposite way from the guards, walking towards the training grounds from which he could sneak her out and into the carriage which led into the town where she could get a train ticket into one of her sisters’ kingdoms. He kept rushing through the halls until a very familiar voice made him stop, rushing her to the opposite corridor. Both of them were up against the wall.

- Thank you for letting me know, Natalia. - the voice boomed through the corridor before he turned to address the guard with him. - Make sure Sir Barnes and the Queen leave. Sadly, our Queen seems to have chosen an illicit affair over her wedding and therefore she is a traitor to our country.

Y/N looked up to Bucky, not understanding exactly what had happened but knowing she clearly couldn’t remain in the castle. Bucky mouthed kitchen to her, before helping her rush down the corridor onto the kitchen. Both of them ran through the oven heated grounds until the wooden door. Luckily for them, it was open.

- Here. - Bucky handed her a small pouch. - There’s enough for a train ticket and more if anything happens.

- Are you coming?

- Bucky, you’re gonna be killed. If affair isn’t believed, he’ll surely blame you for rape or kidnapping and he’ll kill you.

- Y/N.

- Do you love me? - she had one hand on the open door’s handle and one extended to him.

Yes. His hand touched hers and they exited, door behind them closed as everything was left behind.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky/you #bucky x you #bucky/reader #bucky x reader #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years ago

Note

18 and 22 please

18. Are there any topics you find difficult to write for?

Smut - anything along those lines... I'm not going to go into detail because I don't want hate...

Politics - I am very much in the middle ground when it comes to politics. There are good and bad to every "party". But it's so heavy heated and people believe you have to fully be on one side or the other.

Abortion - I would never get an abortion. But I'm pro-choice because I believe it is not my job to tell others how to handle their own bodies.

22. Care to share any future WIP ideas you have lined up?

This are the future series:

- Tony Stark x Spider-Woman!Reader: Female Spider-Man series: female is college age and is mentored by Tony. They fall in love

- Little Mermaid AU: Bucky Barnes x Reader

- OOT: What If Howard and Y/N got together (mini-series, like max 4 parts)

- Royalty AU: Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader: reader is the little sister of Prince Steve. Bucky is over a lot and she is friends with him too. The commoners all know her too cause she is always spending time all over the kingdom. But one day she gets kidnapped so the commoners begin to riot for the royals to save her (not that they needed too). Bucky goes to save her.

- plus the 40 requests I've got to work on that cover Steve, Tony, Sam, Bucky, and now RDJ!Sherlock.

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navybrat817 · 2 years ago

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Cordially Invited

Pairing: Modern Knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Female Reader Summary: You're in need of a date for an upcoming wedding. Word Count: Over 1.9k Warnings: Pining, flirting, slight feels (it's me okay), could be considered fake dating (or is it? 😏), protective Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?), future smut. A/N: Again, I need another AU like a hole in the head, but here we are. @11thstreetvigilante, thank you for letting me scream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the beautiful @whisperlullaby (thank YOU as well!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by Nix, divider by @firefly-graphics and moodboard and banner by yours truly.

Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications and please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Modern royalty is both a wondrous and strange concept. As the only child of the King and Queen of Brooklyn, your parents raised you with a blend of tradition and modernization. They taught you to speak your mind while stressing to follow certain customs. You did your best to make them proud.

The picture-perfect princess.

Except, you didn't have a prince by your side.

“Something wrong, your highness?”

You turned in your chair to look at your personal knight, James “Bucky” Barnes. Standing tall at 6’4” with a muscular build, he served as your bodyguard when he wasn’t fighting for your father. Like his father before him. You worried in the beginning that he’d resent you for having to be your personal guard, but he took his duties seriously. He watched over you as if it was an honor to do so. Though he intimidated most because of his size and strength, he displayed kindness toward you. He quickly became one of your closest confidants.

A knight in name, but a prince in my heart.

“Nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, not moving from his spot in the left corner of your large bedroom. It was the perfect vantage point for him to see your window, the door, and you. “You dismissed your ladies for no reason, you’re not dressed for the day, and you’ve been staring at that invitation for the better part of an hour.”

You turned back toward your vanity and picked up the ornate invitation with a sigh.

Her Majesty Queen of Waverly requests the pleasure of your company at the Marriage of His Royal Highness Prince Clinton of Waverly with Her Royal Highness Princess Natalia of Volgograd.

You RSVP’d to Clint and Natasha’s wedding weeks ago and said you would bring a plus one because that was the expectation. Your parents asked every day since the invitation arrived who you planned to have on your arm. They gave you the option of choosing instead of making the decision themselves. With the wedding around the corner, you were running out of time.

“I still haven't chosen a date and my parents want an answer today."

"Forgive me for saying so, but you have been dodging the King and Queen's question."

"I know, I know. They're already disappointed that I've dragged this out."

Just like they're probably disappointed that they didn't arrange a marriage for me once I was old enough to wed.

"I highly doubt you could do anything to disappoint them or anyone else. You’re Brooklyn’s beloved princess through and through," he said.

Blood rushed to your cheeks as you set the invitation down. His praise felt good. "Thank you, Bucky. But why do I have to bring someone?”

"Tradition," he replied, crossing his arms. “You know, I figured the princes would be knocking down your door at the chance to be your plus one.”

“As if you’d let them get close enough to ask,” you said. "You don't even let Sir Steven near me and he's your best friend."

As your knight, one of Bucky's duties was to keep you safe from any possible threats. He took it to the extreme. If anyone got within a few feet of you, he was there to keep them away. Most didn’t try to speak to you once they caught a glimpse of him.

“It is my job to protect you,” he reminded you. “Especially from handsy princes.”

"Does that include Prince Nicholas?"

Bucky's jaw twitched as he nodded. It was a bit of a low blow to mention Nick’s name considering your knight couldn’t stand him. The prince was one of the few men not afraid of him.

"Especially Prince Nicholas," he grumbled, not hiding his disdain for the man. "What gift did he send you last week?"

"An emerald necklace. I almost felt bad sending it back."

"Insulting. Doesn't he know diamonds are a girl's best friend?"

You narrowed your eyes at him in the mirror, which made him chuckle. The sound sent a jolt between your thighs. Between that and the earlier praise, you prayed he didn’t notice how it affected you. Your knight was not only brave and trusting, but so handsome. Staring into his eyes was like getting lost at sea. Too many nights, you imagined how silky the brown strands of his hair would feel against your fingers.

And how the scruff on his chin would feel between your legs.

“Emeralds, diamonds, it doesn't matter. You don’t let any man get close enough to give them to me themselves,” you muttered to distract yourself from getting aroused. “Some days I wonder if you take pleasure in making sure I’m alone.”

Bucky frowned as he unfolded his arms. “You think I want you to be alone?”

"You tell me. My parents want me to wed eventually, but how will that happen if you won't let any suitors near me?" you asked, toying with one of your makeup brushes to keep your hands busy. “Or are you punishing me for constantly being on babysitting duty?"

"I'm sure the right man can court you without being in close proximity to you," he said, even though he didn't sound pleased. "And we both know I want to watch over you, so why are you trying to pick a fight with me?”

You looked away, embarrassed. You had no reason to speak to him like that. But how could you admit that you didn’t want any suitors when you had him right in front of you? He wasn’t just your knight, he was everything to you. It upset you to think he didn't want you. It scared you more that he’d resign from his duties to settle down and have his own family. You didn't want that day to come.

Is it selfish that I want him forever by my side?

“I’m not trying to pick a fight,” you said, turning in your chair to face him. “And you know I don't care about any suitors. I'm just frustrated."

That includes being sexually frustrated and the toy I named after you is calling my name.

"I'm glad you don't care about those suitors because if you married one soon, I might be out of a job."

"You're stuck with me no matter what," you smiled. "I'm sorry for being rude."

“Give me a hug, princess, and I’ll forgive you,” he said as he held out his arms.

“No,” you said, but you were already on your feet. The robe you wore didn't do much to cover your body and you wondered if you imagined the hunger in his eyes. “I don’t think you deserve a hug.”

He placed his left hand over his chest, which drew your attention to it. He lost his left arm in battle years before and the kingdom had a state of the art metal prosthetic fashioned for him. To some, it was a sign of sacrifice and bravery. It showed you that he was a fighter and survivor.

“You wounded me with your words and you’re hurting me more by denying me a simple request.”

You fought to keep from smiling as you walked toward him. Knowing that he wanted to touch you, even in an innocent form, was a heady feeling. You wanted his touch, too. You craved it like nothing else.

“I’m only going to hug you because I love you,” you said, wrapping your arms around him once you were close enough.

He inhaled as he hugged you close and you allowed yourself to melt in his strong embrace. It made you feel safe and cared for. “I love you, too, my princess,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes and hid your face in his shoulder. Whenever you said you did things for him because you loved him, he always replied that he loved you, too. You dreamt of falling asleep to him whispering that in your ear.

I wish he loved me the way I love him.

“If I could, I'd be your date for the evening."

You lifted your head and pulled free from his arms as you considered his words. You couldn't stop the grin from spreading across your face. Bucky as your date? Why didn't you think of that?

“What’s that look for?”

"Sir James, would you do me the honor of being my date to the wedding?"

His eyebrows shot up. "You called me James."

"That should tell you how serious I am."

Please, don't reject me. I'd feel like a fool.

He cleared his throat and you tried not to feel anxious as you waited for his answer. "I’m not a prince.”

“Who said I have to bring a prince? It may be tradition for a princess to have someone on their arm for royal functions, but it should be a person of my choosing. Who better than the man my parents trust with my life?”

“But-” he began before you held up a hand to stop him.

"Isn't it your duty to serve and protect me? Your princess?" you asked.

“It is,” he answered, looking down when you took his left hand in yours.

“Bucky, I’m not just asking you as my knight. I’m asking because I want you to go with me,” you said, your voice soft as he lifted his head to look at you. "There’s no one else I’d rather go with."

You felt a slight burn in your eyes from unshed tears, but you held your head high. If he sensed your vulnerability, he kindly didn't call you out on it. You didn’t want to command him to take you nor did you want to beg.

“But if you don’t want to, I understand. I can ask Prince Nicholas instead.”

Bucky stopped you before you could turn away from him. "You'll do no such thing," he said, bringing your hand to his lips and softly kissing it. “It would be my honor to be your date, your highness."

"Really?" you smiled as he lowered your hand, but didn't let go.

"Only because I love you," he smiled back.

Your heart raced as you playfully hit his arm, letting your touch linger. "That's my line," you teased, looking over your shoulder to check the time. "Let's go tell my parents."

"You're in your robe," he reminded you as you tried to pull him across the room. "I don't think the other guards need to see you like that."

"I'll change later," you huffed when he planted his feet firmly on the ground. A wall of muscle, he was nearly impossible to move. "Bucky."

You gasped when he gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His enormous hand could crush your bones if he chose to, but the gentle hold reminded you that you were in his care. There was no mistaking the hunger there this time.

"Get dressed, princess," he gently ordered, his voice deeper than before.

I'm going to have to change my panties since I'm soaking wet.

"Then we'll tell your parents."

"Yes, Bucky," you whispered as he released you, having to put some distance between the two of you. If you didn't, you'd be too tempted to kiss him. And if you kissed him, you wouldn't be able to stop.

"Good girl," he smirked, moving back to his spot in the corner as you tried to calm your pounding heart. "I'll be right here waiting."

Good girl?

You weren't sure if he was teasing you or trying to rile you up, but you could play, too.

Oh, this wedding is going to be a lot of fun.

Let's hope it's nice and easy for them. We'll see how it goes. 😏 Check out Part 2. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #modern knight!bucky barnes x princess!reader #bucky barnes #knight!bucky barnes #modern knight!bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #royalty au

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tharros-auris-black-asimi · 2 years ago

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Singed Daffodils (Chapter 1)

Pairing: King Bucky Barnes x Princess Female Reader

Summary: Ever since you had been young, you knew that you were in love with James Barnes. When you were arranged to marry him, you had been over the moon.

Then throughout your short-lived, doomed marriage, you realized he didn't love you. The divorce papers had been written up and just like that, the two of you weren't married anymore.

Thirteen years later, to avoid scrutiny and even more possible scandal, you're marrying him. Again.

But you've learned your lesson now. Falling in love with James will just spell trouble for you.

James however, is determined to undermine your plan. Every step of the way.

Chapter Warnings: Heavy angst, previously arranged marriage, mentions of divorce, secret children, minor scandal, marriage of convenience, unrequited love (for now)

Additional Notes: Hello all! This has been sitting in my laptop for a while. Originally, this was supposed to be a Regency!Bucky, but then I changed it to a King!Bucky after some thought. I decided to play around with a modern royalty AU this time around, and just to avoid confusion, this fic does not correlate with my Prince!Bucky fic called Breathin at all. They're both separate fics and universes. So hopefully that clears up the confusion.

As always, if you'd like to show this fic some love on the AO3, you can do so here.

Word Count: 6578

You felt like puking.

You felt deathly sick to your stomach.

You wanted to crumble to your knees in despair.

You wanted to run out of the room.

You wanted to desperately scream and shout for someone to end you, to give you mercy, and to end your sorry existence.

“Do you think if my ex-husband would mind if I jumped out of the window, Mother?”

Never had you ever wanted to rip off the wedding dress you were wearing more than in this moment.

Your mother didn’t say anything at first.

Rather, she could not muster up the correct words in order to soothe you that everything was going to be alright.

“I’m sure he would mind, dearest.” Those were the only words that came out of her mouth.

Undeterred, you continued to stare at your reflection in the mirror, a bland, cold, emotionless expression on your face.

“I’m sure he would.” You muttered to yourself while your eyes remained cold and unkind.

A sudden knock at the door garnered both of your attention.

“Come in!” Your mother called out.

The doorknob twisted and turned before the person managed to push it open with a huff.

In tumbled your daughter Pamela. Her chestnut hair, the same color as the man you were forced to marry, was braided and fell down her back. Her purple dress, complete with the Barnes Royal Jewels on her necklace and the earrings she wore shone when the sunlight hit it. And wore a small heeled black shoe with a strap. Because she was technically Princess now, she did a little curtsy to you, giggling as she did so. The thirteen-year-old looked ecstatic seeing you in your wedding dress.

“You look so pretty Mama!” she complimented you excitedly.

Even though it was one of the worst days in your life, you couldn’t help the smile on your face.

No matter how much you felt as if you were walking down the aisle to your own personal hell, seeing your darling girl made that realization just the slightest bit bearable. For her, you would do anything.

Which was why you would plan to go through with this.

Even though you didn’t want to.

“Thank you, baby.” She rushed toward you as you gently engulfed her in a hug. Being all the more careful so you wouldn’t smudge or smear the makeup that Wanda Maximoff, the Queen’s Personal Assistant had applied on you a few hours ago. The shimmering eye shadow made your eyes pop and considering it was a wedding, your second one to your ex-husband, in particular, Wanda had thrown away the nude lipstick idea out the window. She had chosen to apply red lipstick instead.

You thought it looked quite nice. Even if all you wanted to do was sink into the floor.

“Mother, can I speak to Pamela for a second?” Your voice floated around as your mother simply pressed a kiss against your cheek before leaving the room, the sound of the door closing behind her giving you somewhat of a reassuring feeling.

Guiding her to the vanity where Wanda had done your makeup, you sat your daughter on your lap. The two of you gazing into the mirror.

“I know I told you who your father was. I just want you to know that even though I don’t love your father anymore, I want you to know that none of this is your fault.”

Roughly around six months ago, after the death of your father, your mother had been announced as Queen Mother, and then your cousin had been crowned King.

Almost everyone had known about your failed marriage to James nearly a decade ago. It was a dark cloud that followed you around, those pitiful looks and sometimes sneering words that reminded you of your own misfortunes.

People had pitied you. They had given you soft words of the same thing.

I’m so sorry you went through that.

To be in a loveless marriage, how sad.

How terrible you must have felt, to be in love with a man that didn’t love you.

Other people snarked at you.

To be in love with a man that didn’t love you. How sad.

Why did you marry a man that didn’t love you?

How could you have married a man that didn’t love you?

All of these words and either pitying or taunting looks had followed you for the past ten years. And then after your cousin was crowned King, you had been sent back here due to a political endeavor. A show of good faith and goodwill, because your cousin was too busy with his new duties. Thus, you were sent in his place.

You always thought the crown suited his head. Never yours.

When you brought your daughter along on the trip, she had been excited. She had never seen James’s country before. Because of course, being in your cousin’s Royal Court and being the Advisor to the King, you knew all about your geography. You still remembered James’s country. Even if your marriage had been short-lived.

The first week had been okay. The two of you had been given a room in the palace to stay in. Sleeping and waking up in the palace had been a far away feeling. It was like living another life. You remembered waking up next to your husband, even though he’d always turn away from you.

That had been a different you. You didn’t recognize that person anymore.

For the first month after arriving, you had avoided King James. Quite well, if you said so yourself. The only time you had ever spoken a word to him was when you had first arrived.

“Pamela. Remember what I told you.” You said to your little girl quietly.

“Don’t talk to strangers, don’t run around everywhere, say hello, please, and thank you, and always stay near you.” Pamela recited the things you had told her on the plane on your way here in the guest room the two of you were staying in.

“Good job,” You squeezed her shoulders, kissing the top of her head.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” She asked you, just making sure. She knew how nervous you had looked when you and she had gotten off the plane together, being careful to avoid any paparazzi, thanks to the private jet.

“I hope so, little butterfly.” Ruffling her hair, you told her to stay put in the room while you had walked to the King’s conference room.

James heard footsteps in the hall coming closer and closer to the room.

Already, it had been a long day. He had gone from meeting to meeting and greeting all of the guests.

He was growing tired.

But, he had yet another meeting to attend.

Inwardly, the man wanted to groan.

All he wanted to do was retire to his personal bedroom and just have some time alone to himself.

Luckily for him, this was his biggest meeting, but also the last. Everyone from the neighboring countries was going to get together, just to say hello and catch up, and see the progress in each other’s countries.

Being this however, James was not stupid.

Of course, it had been royal protocol that his Chief of Staff, Nebula send all of the invitations via email. The pale-skinned, blue-haired woman had assured him that everyone had responded and that almost all of the neighboring kings and queens were going to attend.

Well.

Almost all of them.

The newly crowned King, your cousin Kurt Wagner had declined to attend, due to dealing with his late uncle’s affairs. So instead, as a peace treaty, he sent you.

Naturally, that sent shock waves throughout his kingdom.

Some people were excited.

Some people were furious.

And some people, well, they just didn’t give or shit or decided not to care.

The people who were excited, well they had made their presence known on the good ole Internet. Yelena Belova, the Royal Spokesperson for the kingdom, had cheerfully informed His Majesty of the new gossip.

“Oooh! And Anneliese says that oooh… it doesn’t spell good for you, Yasha.” The blonde Russian woman winced in sympathy.

See, after his failed marriage with you that had led to him marrying Dot shortly thereafter, two years down the line, Dot had annulled their marriage and had run away with some foreign prince, claiming that she had fallen out of love with him and suddenly, just like that— James was alone again.

Yelena heard James heave a heavy sigh. “I don’t care what my popularity percentage is, Yelena.”

He could care less about popularity percentages. He didn’t care what the randos on the Internet said about him. They could slander his name, drag it through the mud all they wanted. He didn’t care anymore.

He had reached the stage of nihilism, it seemed. Or as Yelena and Natasha, Yelena’s older adopted sister nicknamed it, his stage of enlightenment.

Whatever the hell that meant. James did not feel enlightened in the very slightest.

His therapist whom he saw every Friday told him it was a case of depression. A deep sense of longing. Like he had been chained, restrained. Held down and was frozen in this odd state of mind while everything else around him moved on and bloomed, while he had been left to linger.

Heck, his therapist was even concerned with the amount of checking he kept on you.

“Do you think, Your Majesty, that you’ve found yourself in love with her?” Mantis had questioned him. The Asian woman fixed him with such a look that it didn’t even faze him. Not one bit.

What other word could explain his deep feelings? These deep feelings that he had developed for you towards the end of his marriage to you, the feelings that were still here, even after all these years? Even though, from his knowledge and from Yelena, Natasha, or even Nebula’s quips that you were no longer speaking to the press, and had led a low-key life serving in your father’s court as the Royal Advisor?

Truly, what other words could he use to describe these deep-seated feelings?

He knew for a fact if he had gotten on a plane to get on one knee to propose to you properly that you would immediately reject him. You would probably flee from him screaming or demanding him to get his ass back to his country.

“This is where you belong, Your Majesty.” Your words had come back to him. Before you boarded that damn plane to go back to your country. Your home.

“You’re a good man, Your Majesty. I hope she’ll make you happy. She’ll do… a much better job than me.” Your words hadn’t been assuring then, and they sure as hell weren’t assuring now.

“I don’t think I’ve ever stopped feeling like this. I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling like this.”

James was shot back to his present, his reality when the doorknob twisted, and suddenly, the door was pushed open.

Your heels click click clicked on the hardwood floors as you silently closed the huge door behind you.

It seemed you were the first person here.

As always.

An audible, almost irritated sigh came from you in annoyance.

“Always so punctual with your time,” James remarked lightly, a smile caressing his delicate features. You saw that little dimple that appeared on the sides of his mouth whenever he smiled.

For an eerie moment, something inside of your chest ached. It hurt. You felt it deeply.

“Well,” you nervously cleared your throat. Feeling just as flighty, jittery, and nervous as you first did when you had met him as a child. “My mother always taught me to be punctual. It’s either that or everyone left and I arrived late.”

“No, no, no. You’re early. Just on time. We’ll have to wait for everyone else to come in.” James hurried to sit you down. Sitting yourself into the chair, you looked every bit regal. You sat up straight, with your head looking straight. Your hands were intertwined together, your palms shaped like the Egyptian pyramids. Your hands sat comfortably on top of the table.

You sat on the other end of the table, near the wall in the back. While James sat at the front, near the door. Sitting and looking the very image of the King that he was.

“You haven’t cut your hair.”

Your comment made James chuckle. A little awkwardly, you noticed. Your ex-husband hadn’t been one with words. Even when the both of you were mere children.

Tucking a piece of his chestnut hair behind his ear, he began to speak. “I found that this hairstyle flatters me. I quite like it. It sets me apart from the other kings.”

“Especially from Prince William from England, yes. Although I daresay he has not aged well.” Your remark didn’t fly past him as James chuckled, his chest heaving up and down due to his amusement.

“No, I wholeheartedly agree with you. He has not aged well.” Humming, James heard his iPad ping with a notification. An email from Yelena had popped up, talking about the trade deal with the Americas.

Indeed, the current President of the United States was… fine. James quite liked the man. The current was mellow and humble. His predecessor? Not so much. From what he knew of the former President, he had caused an insurrection, and his supporters, or as Yelena lovingly put it, his cult members were going to be trialed very soon.

It wasn’t that James disagreed with the term. Oh no no no no. He had seen a few videos of the former at his rallies. It screamed cult meetings to him. Absolutely distasteful, in his opinion. The former President’s wife was at least easier to handle. She had been a bit more tolerable. Just enough that James didn’t want to kick her out.

If the two of you had still been married, he knew that the much older man would have made leery comments toward you. It was what he had done when first meeting him in the Oval Office.

“You look awfully dull today, Your Majesty.”

Your snippy comment had James breaking out of his stupor, once again. “My apologizes,” were the only words that he used in response to you. “I am deep in thought.”

“Mmm. About what?” You implored of him.

“The… former President of the United States.” You saw the grimace on his face.

And boy oh boy, even if he was your ex-husband, you still felt pity for him in those regards.

Even though you abhorred the two-party system and America’s politics as a whole, your extreme dislike of the current President’s predecessor ran deeper than that.

A whole entire circus, you had told your mother once. The former President and his administration had been like an entire circus act.

The insurrection at the nation’s capital had been the cherry on top. The icing on the cake, so to speak.

Just like the rest of the world, you had your eyes glued to the screen in pure and utter horror, watching the madness unfold.

“Ah.” Came your pleasant tone.

“He made some… unsavory comments about you when we first met.” The most, if not, the unpleasant look was on His Majesty’s face.

“Me?”

To say you were shocked was one thing. Surely the former President knew of your history together! Surely he knew that such things were not to be touched upon! To even entertain the subject was something that was deeply uncomfortable for the both of you.

“Yes.” James gritted his teeth.

The both of you had been young when the two of you had married. It had been something that had been set in stone, even before you both could be old enough to object to such an idea. After it had failed, it had left your fathers in an odd, unsettling tension with one another.

You had never seen your former husband this… upset before. He looked truly unsettled. “You know I do not care what that buffoon has spoken of me, James. I am a grown woman. I can handle his horrid comments. Even if they are leery.” Uncapping the cap of the water bottle that had been placed on every seat at the table, you took a sip of your water.

“I know.”

His voice was lower, rougher. It had a harder edge to it. His tone made your toes curl. Your core clench.

Even after all these years, he still held somewhat of a hold over you. You still felt like that young, silly, stupid girl who believed in fairy tales. That young girl who had been enamored by stories of princesses falling in love with their princes and living happily ever after. Those sort of things.

“So I don’t think we should worry much about it, no? If we’re lucky Your Highness, he’ll be thrown in jail with the rest of his cult worshipers.” Your snide note caused James to chuckle again.

“I think you may have a point,” James concurred with you. A smirk curled its way onto your face as you took a sip of water, just as the doors opened.

Everyone had rushed in, offering their apologies as you idly drank your water. Keeping your eyes watching everyone, because you knew that they were watching you now, too.

Everyone in this room at least knew of your history.

Everyone in this room knew.

But James didn’t care.

His eyes remained on you for the rest of the meeting.

And then, a few weeks after that, the number one thing that you didn’t want to happen, happened.

Never ever, would you ever forget that day.

Just like today.

Just like the day that James told you he wanted a divorce, and that the papers had been written up. And just like the day you had stepped back onto that plane that took you home back to where you had mourned.

It had been an unusually sunny morning.

That should have been a warning sign for you.

Just yesterday, Pamela had been thrilled to explore the palace with you. King James had been off for a meeting out of the country, so you were good on that end. You wouldn’t have to worry about looking for ways to sneak your daughter around, to see her father’s palace and home. To explore her father’s country.

And that was what exactly the both of you had done. You had quietly shown her around the more secretive places around the palace that no one knew, or either never dared to explore. You even showed her the Royal Gardens.

Well, with Daisy Johnson-Ward, who was the Royal Guide. The both of you weren’t friends by any perchance, but you had always been nice to her when you had been married to James.

“This is so pretty mama!” Pamela had whispered to you, looking over all of the flowers in the garden.

However, one patch of land made you stop in your tracks.

This certain patch of land, separate from all of the rest, had a big bunch of your favorite flower. They seemed to only bloom in that spot, compared to the rest. And it wasn’t that the rest of the flowers didn’t look pretty, no. They did. They really did.

This plot of land, however?

It left you with an odd feeling. A deep solemn feeling.

“His Majesty is very fond of that particular flower,” Daisy remarked. Pamela’s eyes it up. “Really?” The thirteen-year-old gasped in excitement. She was absolutely buzzing with energy.

“That’s Mama’s favorite flower!” Pamela gleefully informed the brunette woman.

Daisy raised an eyebrow at that.

Her husband, Grant Ward, who was the Royal Gardner, had told her that His Highness had specifically requested that the plot of small land be untouched. No flowers were permitted to be planted there. Her husband had been so surprised, so shocked, so bewildered at seeing his king planting the flowers himself. Grant had to quietly step out of the Royal Gardens to report his findings to his wife and friends.

“And His Highness was there? Planting flowers? Those flowers? By himself?” Melinda May, who was a part of His Highness’s Royal Guard, questioned her longtime friend.

“Yes,” Grant nodded in all seriousness. “He was on his knees, planting the seeds and watering them himself.”

“Oh my,” Jemma Simmons gasped dramatically. Leo Fitz, her husband looked very keen to continue listening to the current conversation that was happening.

“His Highness looked very depressed though. I heard him talking to himself. He said that Her Majesty loved those flowers.” Grant lowered his head a little.

“Which one of Her Majesties are we talking about?” Leo pondered.

“The nice one,” Jemma piped up.

“Ohhhh,” the entire group, (excluding Jemma), said in unison. They immediately got who Jemma was talking about.

Unlike Dot, James’s people liked you. Adored you, even. Throughout your short-lived marriage, you had spent time with the locals, getting to know your people and getting to know the different issues that resided in your husband’s country. Needless to say, your popularity percentage had been pretty high.

Hell, the people had nicknamed you as “The Nice One” after James had married Dot. His popularity percentage had dropped significantly. Not that it had been in good numbers when the people found out that the two of you were getting a divorce. They had dropped a little, but when he married Dot?

Those numbers went down faster than you could say “Space Jesus.”

“Did His Majesty ever tell anyone what type of flowers they were?” Daisy asked her husband. “Daffodils,” was Grant’s answer.

A collected murmur rocked the group.

“… Oh, is it?” Daisy asked the little child, having come back to the present. “Uh-uh!” Pamela nodded enthusiastically.

As your daughter and the Royal Guide indulged in their conversation, you couldn’t help but feel like something was about to go terribly wrong.

The terrifying feeling manifested three days later.

You had awoken to shouts coming down from the hall.

“… Your Majesty, please think about what you’re about to do…” a woman’s voice was echoing loudly as you had stirred from your sleep.

Pamela herself was occupied on the iPad you had brought along for the trip, playing an aquarium game. The low music and sound effects from her game hadn’t fully woken you up yet. You were still groggy, still half-asleep.

She looked up from her tablet when there was a loud knock at the door.

That had jolted you awake.

“Mama,” James heard from the other side of the door. “There’s someone at the door. I’m gonna go answer it.”

“Pamela, no—“ your words of protest were unheard by the young girl as she hopped right out of the bed and zoomed to the door.

James heard the lock turn before the door was pulled open.

Any anger he had been feeling had melted away when your daughter laid her eyes on him.

She looked up at him with the same eyes as yours. Little Pamela peered her eyes up at the man who ruled this kingdom.

Knowing her manners, Pamela curtsied. “Good morning Your Highness!” she greeted him jolly. There was a sparkle in her eyes that reminded him so much of you.

You had looked at him that way once. Unlike the woman who was currently still tangled in her bedsheets, groaning.

This was a terrible time.

He knew that.

When Nebula had woken him up with the articles and the tabloids, not to mention the pictures— James had woken up and gotten out of bed at once. The blue-haired young woman had never seen His Majesty ever this energized. She also turned away, allowing him the privacy of getting dressed. Even though she didn’t roll that way and was in a loving relationship with a woman who also worked in the palace named Sharon Carter, she still gave her king the decency.

And because James slept completely naked. She had seen his legs though. And she had caught a glimpse of his penis.

Also no, she would not be going into detail about what his junk looked like.

That was just an invasion of privacy.

“Pamela,” his voice was rough. A little bit scratchy.

Peering her eyes at him, Pamela nodded. Signaling that His Highness had caught her full undivided attention.

“I need to speak to your mother and you. Is that okay?” He asked her.

Her eyes went wide. She gave him an encouraging nod.

Eventually, you had gotten up and changed into a new pair of clothes. You and Pamela were whisked away to a more secluded part of the palace.

Holding onto Pamela’s hand, James nodded to Nebula. You watched the young woman, seeing as she pulled out her phone and pulled up the photos.

You nearly almost fainted when you saw them.

It was you and Pamela, along with Daisy in the Royal Gardens.

You were about to be sick.

You felt that horrid, ice-cold feeling. Like someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water, ice cubes, all over you.

“Our sources are working hard to find out who the perpetrator was. We’ll find them, Your Majesty.” Nebula swore.

“Thank you, Nebula. You’re dismissed.”

Bowing to her king, you watched as Nebula turned around before swiftly exiting the room. She looked both ways before offering you somewhat of a smile as best as she could, before closing the door. You heard her heels clicking on the floor before the sound vanished altogether.

That left you and your daughter alone.

Alone with King James.

An awkward silence stretched over the room as James did not quite know what exactly to say.

What could he say?

What could he say that would make the dire situation between the three of you better?

Pamela saw her father visibly swallow before she spoke.

Her father was just as attractive as her mother had described him when she had been young.

“Your father was a remarkable man. Tall. He had chestnut hair. And his eyes were perhaps the bluest of blue I had ever seen in my life. He was very tanned too.” She had remembered giggling at your description of her father.

Looking back on it now, in this moment— you were right.

Like always.

“I know you’re my father,” she informed him softly.

A look of surprise crossed over his face.

“My mother told me about you when I was young. As soon as I could walk and talk, I guess.” James saw Pamela give a shrug before she continued. “I consumed anything or everything I could get on you. So, it didn’t really surprise me when Uncle Kurt wanted my mother to come here. He’s busy. And… I knew the risks of coming here with my mother. She wanted me to stay home. But I insisted.”

You physically grimaced at that.

It was true. When James looked at you.

You hadn’t wanted her to come here.

You had wanted her to stay home, back in your home kingdom. She would be safe there. She would be free from the tabloids, free from the paparazzi.

But Pamela had told you.

“… this would be my only chance to meet you. Or see you. In person. I wanted to know what my father looked like in the flesh at least once.”

It had been a gamble, coming here.

Pamela however, was indeed stubborn.

You didn’t really know if she got that from you, or from James.

She sure as hell didn’t get it from you.

So it surprised her when James strode to make his way toward her and got on his knees. Like he was about to say a silent prayer. And then he embraced her tight. She could smell his cologne. It smelled musky. She liked that. It suited him.

“I’ve always wanted a daughter,” his rough voice brought her back. Pulling away from a little, she saw the tears that were forming in his eyes.

She was moved. The emotions overwhelmed her, and she started crying too.

You, though?

You didn’t know how to feel.

Having not kept up with the gossip all that much with James, you didn’t know if he had any other children.

You didn’t even know if he had any children with Dot. After the divorce, you made sure to distance yourself from James. Even news about him.

So you were pretty out of the loop.

However, that did not stop your feet from moving and joining the little party. Pamela held your hand pretty tight, and James’s hand was put on your shoulder.

It made you look at him.

And then he spoke the three words that changed your life.

“Let’s get married.”

So… that was how you got here.

In a wedding dress.

Your face full of makeup.

Your feet in heels that you knew that you were totally going to kick off of your feet after the two ceremonies. You had a second dress that you were going to change into, right after you recited your vows and were crowned queen in the church.

Being crowned queen was something you never would have expected.

Like ever.

Back during your first marriage with James, his parents still had been King and Queen. George and Winifred were always so kind to you. But, after the divorce, you ceased contact with them. You knew throughout the years your mother still kept in contact with them.

However, about five years back, they had stepped down and James had been crowned king. Said they needed to retire, was their excuse.

Retirement certainly suited them. They were much happier. James’s three younger sisters, Rebecca, Mary, and Frances were also going to attend the wedding. Rebecca was the second eldest, while Mary and Frances had turned out to be twins. Fraternal twins, to be exact. So no Parent Trap for the Barnes Royal Family there.

The entire family was brunettes. The chestnut hair was a tiebreaker. It had been the tiebreaker for Pamela when the pictures had been leaked to the public. Immediately, everyone knew.

That damn chestnut hair.

But back to the wedding.

You hadn’t wanted to do this.

Not at first.

At first, your answer to James had been a flat-out “No.” But James had told you to quietly reconsider it, to see if your answer would change.

The next couple of days after his sudden and very nontraditional marriage proposal had been avoiding the press as much as you could. Wearing disguises. Not bringing Pamela to many places, in fear of the press catching the both of you. Hell, even James had provided you with four guards to protect you and Pamela, if you had brought her places. If it was just you, then it was just two.

That was how quickly your life had changed. In a split second, everything in your world had been flipped on its head, like someone flipping a coin.

In those couple of days, Pamela had been oddly quiet.

Until the last day.

“Mama?”

It was late.

The two of you were getting ready for bed.

Pamela herself had been laying on the bed, hearing the bathroom door open. You had finished drying off your hair. Putting her tablet down, she looked at you.

“I think you should take father up on his proposal.”

That sent you in for a loop.

“What?”

Never ever had you ever felt this flabbergasted in your life. Ever!

“Uh-huh.” Pamela was nodding with herself.

You however, were not as easily persuaded.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” You asked her as you climbed into bed.

“Well, I mean—“ Pamela chewed on her lip a little. “It would be nice. I mean, you don’t want to do the whole co-parenting thing, do you?”

No. No, you did not want to do the whole co-parenting thing.

Besides, how the hell would that even work? Would you just fly out Pamela every six months, just to let her see and spend time with her father? Would you really pay money just for all that? To fly her back and forth?

As you thought about it, definitely not. Especially now, with the scandal that the press was blowing up?

Absolutely not.

“Think about it, mama.” Pamela pointed out to you. “You won’t have to fly me back and forth. Plus, I’ve seen the popularity percentages. You’re like, super-duper popular. Yeah sure, your percentage might sink a little by marrying father, but at least we’ll all be together.”

At least we’ll all be together.

Pamela’s words echoed through your mind even now. She smiled at you from where she sat on your lap, just as she did when she had been younger.

All of a sudden, there was a knock on the door.

“Darlings!” your mother came from behind the door.

“They’re starting.”

Your mother was walking you down the aisle, considering that your father was six feet under, and Kurt was still busy. He couldn’t just drop everything.

So you would be the person that would be walking yourself down the aisle.

Oh yeah.

You were a single unit.

You were kinda proud of that.

Adjusting your veil, your mother gave you a loving look.

“You look beautiful, darling. Wanda did a good job with your makeup. You look like a bride.” Your mother’s voice was whispered. The both of you were behind the door of the chapel. After the ceremony, you would be crowned queen at the church. Pamela would be crowned princess.

But that was after exchanging your vows. That was with Bishop Wilson when there would be as many people. This event was going to be televised, streamed, all the works.

For now, you were marrying the same man you had been married to, once upon a time.

Again.

The two flower girls at the front looked back at quickly waved at you, smiles on their little faces.

You gave them a smile back.

Briefly, you wondered if Queen Elizabeth of England would have had your head on a spike for your coronation dress. You were going to be crowned queen in front of your people. And James’s people.

However, you couldn’t think about those thoughts any longer because the music started.

The two white double doors opened, and your mother walked down the aisle first. From where you could see, James had walked in from the side, walking up the small steps to the head of the altar.

Then, the groomsmen and the bridesmaids walked in. Pairs. It had been Pamela’s idea. King Steven Grant Rogers, dressed in a black suit, kissed your cheek, before kissing his wife.

“Good luck,” he whispered to you, and the two flower girls. He gave them a bright smile before walking with the groomsmen.

Your matron of honor Queen Rogers, with her hair nicely styled and wearing the color of soft dusty pink, dress, and heels. She turned to you, smiling.

Queen Rogers was your childhood friend. Like how King Steve Rogers was to James.

“If he fucks up again, I’ll make sure to grab Steve’s sword to teach him a lesson,” she whispered to you. You couldn’t help yourself.

You let out a very unladylike snort, which made her snort too.

“You look beautiful, girl. We should have tea together after your honeymoon.” She suggested as she looked over your veil. The veil was a cap shape, so your crown would fit on top of your head. It was better than the original suggestion from your mother. She had suggested a Bella Swan from Breaking Dawn type of veil.

You had shot that dream down in its crib.

Hell to the freaking no.

“If you can fly over, we can totally have a tea party. Just like when we were kids.” you joked. The two of you giggled like you were little girls again before she walked down the aisle.

The two flower girls walked down the aisle and followed. Sprinkling flowers down as they walked until they reached King James and Bishop Wilson.

Curtsying to their king, the two girls split and walked either left or right to make space.

That just left you.

Traditionally, your father would be the one to walk you down the aisle. But, considering he was six feet under, you would be walking down yourself.

And when the song that you chose to walk down the aisle to play, everyone stood up.

Walking into the chapel was a weird experience for you.

Because yes, you had done this before. But that had been thirteen years ago.

And still, nothing changed about this chapel.

It was still the same. It was still just as big. Big enough to hold fifty people. The altar was still just as elegant too.

Your grip on your bouquet of daffodils tightened as you kept your head up high. Your gaze focused on James and Bishop Wilson.

As soon as you reached the altar, you slowly walked up the stairs, as to not ruin your dress. It was long. You had to walk your feet in order to not trip. Your wedding dress was made up of pure satin with a scoop neckline. Your coronation gown was a satin gown like your wedding dress, but the skirt was bigger and flared out, so you could move easier.

After the wedding ceremony, you would change into your coronation gown at the church. Then, you would recite your oath to be crowned queen.

Everything was changing so fast.

James extended his hand out to you. His blue eyes gazed into yours, and you swore that he was staring directly into your soul. That bundle of nerves that had struck you when you had been younger, struck you again. He looked regal and the image of a king with his black uniform, complete with the maroon red, and silver colors of his kingdom. His sword hung at his hip, and the crown that proclaimed him as king, complete with all of the ruby jewels and the way the sunlight that peeked through the windows reflected the smooth gold and silver.

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw it.

Pamela mouthed him an I love you both.

James and you turned to face Bishop Sam Wilson. The African man, dressed in his white and gold-trimmed bishop robes began to speak about marriage. Which delved into the discussion of children, as he spared a wink to Pamela, who smiled bashfully at him. As Bishop Wilson concluded his speech with the fact of marriage was not an excuse for men’s carnal lusts and appetites, you and James looked at each other.

“Do you take this woman?” Sam asked.

“I do.” James’s voice was loud and clear as he looked at you. For the slightest moment, it gave you a sense of deja vu. And your heart clenched.

Just like when you had been young and you had been standing here, a thought sneaked into your head. It cemented itself there, just like way back when.

Cause for a moment, you really thought that James actually gave a shit about you. Like he was actually in love with you.

But you knew better.

He was just doing this to guarantee your safety. To give you a home. To keep you stable.

So when Sam asked you “Do you take this man”, the only words that came out were—

“I do.”

Taglist: @bxnnywriting, @greeneyedblondie44, @hawsx3, @sunflowerfive

Other Tags: @buckysswinter

#king!bucky barnes x princess!asian!reader #king!bucky barnes x princess!reader #bucky barnes x asian!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction

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fandoms-writings · 3 years ago

Text

Hiding in the Shadows

Part 2 - Glass Shards

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Summary: In the days leading up to your wedding, an uneasiness grows in you and Bucky.

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: Kidnapping, mentions of blood, character death (again), angst.

Series Masterlist | Bucky Masterlist

"Father!" Your voice was sure to be heard through the entirety of the castle -- possibly even the kingdom -- but you didn't care; your father finally arrived and just in time for your wedding. You were only three days away from becoming queen and you had started to worry he wouldn't be able to make it on time.

Running down the steps leading to his carriage, you all but threw yourself into his open arms, wrapping your arms around his back. "It's good to see you again," He laughed as he pulled away, "Now, why don't you help me get settled and then you can show me your dress. How's that sound?" You nodded and took him to the chambers he'd be occupying, helping the guards carry his luggage. He didn't bring much, he couldn't allow himself longer than a week away from your home kingdom.

You spent the day helping him get settled and showing him your dress, then taking him out to the gardens for a walk. You were side by side, holding his hand, as you led him through the roses and peonies. It was something of a habit you both had, ever since your mother passed. Walking in the gardens was something you did with her, but when she was no longer around, your father stepped in her place so you wouldn't have to walk alone.

“What am I going to do without you to help me, hm?” His gravelly voice filled the silence as he continued to admire the flowers. Squeezing his hand, you sighed.

“I’ll always be here, just a short ride away. We can send letters, and you can ask me questions about the institutions we set up in mothers name. I’ll do everything I can to help, it’ll just be a different way of doing it,” you smiled up at him and you could see the pride shining in his eyes as he looked down at you, "And James and I won't be taking over your kingdom for a few months after the wedding and coronation here, so it'll give us all time to prepare."

“You are so much like your mother, it’s astounding. So eager to help everyone you can, whenever you can,” he pulled you in for a hug, resting his chin on the crown of your head, “Just don’t forget about me once you’ve got that crown on your head.”

Arms wrapped around his torso, you mumbled into his arm, “I could never.”

~•~

The next two days were filled with final touches and welcoming nobles from other kingdoms who had come to witness the union of yours and Bucky's families — in between you and Bucky meeting in the garden at night of course.

You knew most of them, having visited them with your father over the years to discuss peace treaties and borders. You knew Lady Maximoff and her doting husband Sir Vision, Lady Pots and her unofficial husband Sir Stark, and Lady Romanoff — who had eyes for Bucky's dear brother, Steve, though she’d never admit it. The ones you didn’t know, you made sure to introduce yourself and tried your best to make a good first impression.

You were introduced to Sir Barton — a man with short cropped light brown hair and a knack for archery — and his wife and their children. You remembered meeting Sir Banner, a very smart man who claimed to be working with Sir Stark on a remedy for his anger management. There were so many names and faces, it was impossible for you to remember all of them at the end of the day. Most of them, tired from the journey, spent most of their time in their respective chambers throughout the grand castle.

There was only one person who made you feel uneasy, Prince Brock Rumlow of the Hydra Kingdom. He had shown up in a black carriage, with his home's sigil — octopus tentacles sprouting from the base of a skull — proudly displayed on both sides in red.

When he stepped out of the carriage, he was alone, other than his guards. He was the only person they sent to represent their kingdom. He was wearing black pants and a black overcoat with silver trimming, his hair perfectly styled and a light stubble covering his cheeks. His face wore a scowl as he looked your way.

The amount of guards he had brought with him was off putting, he basically had a small army that went with him anywhere. It made sense, he was in enemy territory, but King Barnes wouldn’t dare lay a finger on the son of his enemy. He was a firm believer that a fathers child shouldn’t have to bear the weight of his grievances.

He had an aura of confidence and arrogance about him, and it only irked you further as he introduced himself to you on the palace steps.

“A pleasure to meet you, princess,” He gruffly stated, his eyes raking over your body, before they snapped back to your eyes. He didn’t hold his hand out in greeting, only held both of them behind his back as he barely spared a glance towards Bucky before shouldering his way past you.

Turning to Bucky who stood at your right, you leaned up to his ear, "I thought they were sending nobles, not a prince." Your voice was unsteady and he grunted, his fists clenching at his sides.

"So did I."

Prince Rumlow's presence made a wave of wariness settle in your stomach like lead each time you ran into him. He never said much, but you could feel his eyes on you as you’d pass him in the hallways or in the dining hall or even in the garden.

Bucky and Steve both assured you he would only be there for the wedding and coronation, and that he was scheduled to leave the day after you were crowned. But no matter how many times they told you, and showed you the number of guards who were watching you, it didn’t ease the growing anxiety. Something was wrong. But you couldn’t quite put your finger on what that was. The best you could do was keep watch over your shoulder and trust in Steve’s abilities to protect you.

~•~

You stood by the back door, leading to the garden, as you waited for Bucky. It was a routine now, meeting at night, without the responsibility of being royals. Just you two laying under that tree together. It didn't take long for the door to open and you smiled as Bucky caught sight of you. You followed him out to your usual spot and sat next to him, laying your head on his shoulder.

"We're almost there," you sighed, reaching for his hand to intertwine your fingers together. He hummed in response as his thumb started to rub lazy circles over your knuckles. You picked your head up and looked at him. The sun had set some time ago, and the moon was full and bright, lighting up all of his features in a light blue hue, matching his eyes. "Something wrong?"

"No, not at all," He turned to you, "Just thinking about everything, I suppose."

"Like what?" You giggled, pulling a small smile from his lips.

"You." You humed and raised your brow, silently pushing him for more. "Just the fact that you're going to be my wife. We're supposed to rule this kingdom together. How long it's been pushed off. How I can't wait to see you in your dress. How I can't wait to have a proper portrait together, not the one from when we were children." He laughed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Also all of the promises I want to make to you, but I don't want to make them and then not be able to hold myself to them." He glanced down at the grass under your legs.

"What promises?" He shook his head with a small laugh.

"They're dumb," He started picking at the grass with his other hand and you turned your body to face his, grabbing his hand to hold both of them in your lap.

"I won't think so." You watched as he took a small breath before looking back at you, a nervous smile on his face and a shy look in his eye. "C'mon, I promise I won't laugh." You smiled wide at him, causing a chuckle to shake his shoulders as he sighed.

"I want to promise to keep you safe. To never stray. To care for you. I want to promise to love you, no matter what. I want to promise to share all I have with you, and to give you everything in the world," He paused, looking at you finally, "I promise to always be yours."

Your heart fluttered at his words and all you could do was smile as a small giggle left your lips, making his own smile falter, "You promised you wouldn't laugh."

"I'm not laughing at you," You leaned forward, grabbing his face in your hands and placing a chaste kiss to his lips, "I'm laughing because I love all of those promises. And I love you." His eyes go wide as they lock with yours. The corner of his lips twitch up in a smirk and he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you to straddle his legs. His arms locked around your back as you wrapped your own around his shoulders, his nose brushing your skin as he buried his face in your neck. His lips pressed to your warm skin and didn't move as he mumbled, "I love you."

~•~

Tossing and turning in your bed, the sheets tangled uncomfortably around your legs, you’d finally had enough. Usually, you’d be out in the gardens with Bucky, staring at the stars and talking about how you two would be benevolent rulers and all the institutions you wanted to put into place to help the less fortunate of his people. But you had both agreed not to see each other tonight — he had some final arrangements to make before the wedding and coronation and you wanted to be well rested for the upcoming event. But sleep would not take you.

You sat up, throwing the blankets back and swinging your legs over the edge of the mattress. The room was still dark, moonlight coming through the window, illuminating just the tiniest bit of the floor, enough to walk around without bumping into any furniture as you made your way out to the small receiving room.

Of course the night before your wedding you can’t sleep, riddled with too much anxiety. Worried about being a good wife, being a good queen. It was as if the reality of the situation was finally settling into your mind. You knew marrying Buck was the right decision, you had no doubts about that, it was just everything else that came with it. And it didn’t help that Rumlow’s presence made it even worse.

Slipping your feet into a pair of slippers and throwing a light shawl over your shoulders, you grabbed a small candle and made your way to the hall. Your guard was missing, gone on his rounds, but you wouldn’t be long. You leaned up to one of the torches outside your room, lighting your candle before making your way to the kitchens.

After getting a cup of tea for yourself, you started to make your way back to your chambers when you heard voices coming from one of the guest halls. You weren’t going to think much of it, pay it any mind, but then you heard your name among the whispers and your feet froze. From where you were standing, you couldn’t put together the murmurs of words, so you hugged the wall and made your way to the hall opening as quietly as you could.

Pressing your back to the wall and leaning your ear over the corner of the hall, you strained to hear what was going on.

“It’ll work, it has to,” it was Prince Rumlow’s voice, it was quiet, but the uneasiness it brought to your gut was unmistakable.

“I’m not saying it won’t, I’m just asking a ‘what if’ so that we’re prepared,” came another voice, rough and raspy.

“She won’t come willingly,” came a third voice. There was a long pause and you heard the faintest hint of a sigh.

“I know, that’s why we’re here. To take her by force,” there was another pause followed by a glass hitting wood, “The princess will be mine.”

Your eyes widened and the breath hitched in your throat as your heart picked up its pace and your hands started to shake, the tea in your cup rippling.

The princess will be mine. The words echoed in your skull like a broken record, settling further and further into your bones. Footsteps sounded in the hall behind you, pulling your attention away from your panic. Turning from the hall entrance, you tried to back track to your room, anywhere but where you were.

“Princess,” Rumlow’s voice froze you in your tracks, your blood turning to ice in your veins. You looked over your shoulder, eyes wide, and he gave you a small sickening smile.

“I really wish you hadn’t heard all that, but you did, didn’t you?” He took a small step towards you and your retreating step with your slight gasp gave him his answer. He hummed. “I thought so.”

He was quiet for a moment while he watched you try to shy away, taking tentative steps backwards towards the direction of your room. There was a dread curdling in your stomach, where were the guards when you needed them? The harsh sound of glass shattering and the fizzle of the candle being extinguished filled the hall as you dropped the items in your hands and turned on your heel, sprinting for your chambers.

“Get her,” you heard his voice, and then two pairs of footsteps were right behind you. Your fists were holding your skirt so you didn’t trip as you fumbled through the halls in the dark, only the occasional torch lighting your way.

Your chamber doors came into view and with that, the sight of your guard coming back from his rounds. He caught sight of you in your panic and his eyes widened as he held the door open for you. You barreled in the room, hearing the door slam shut, and you made your way to the bedroom, pulling blankets from the mattress to hang over the edges. You lifted them to crawl underneath, and let them fall back, covering you in darkness as you listened.

You could hear the struggle outside your door, and your hearts dropped as you realized you never locked it. All your hope rested on the one guard, but when a loud thud came from the other side of the door and was followed by silence, your hope started to dwindle.

The creak of the door opening filled the room and your hand covered your mouth, silencing your breaths. The thuds of their boots hitting the stone floor pierced through your chest at every step. They were getting progressively closer with each thud and you could tell when they’d stop to look in the closet or in the washroom, you could hear them tearing the room apart and turning over furniture, searching for you. When they stopped right next to you, you stilled. Too scared to even look in the direction of the boot on the other side of the fallen blanket, too scared to breathe, all you could do was wait.

You waited and waited in silence with baited breath. The boots never moved, and the second pair were equally still. You swore they'd be able to hear how hard your heart was beating, threatening to beat out of your chest. The noise of fabric being pulled from a pocket filled your ears followed by a liquid slosh.

The blanket in front of your face was ripped away and a hand reached in, grabbing your arm and yanking you out. You were barely able to let out a scream when a wet cloth was pressed to your mouth, you inhaled on instinct and instantly your head felt lighter and your eyes started to cross.

You kicked your legs at the two night stands as they danced in your vision, trying to make any sort of noise you could, before your eyelids fluttered shut and darkness swallowed you.

~•~

Bucky had just laid down, settled into his soft blankets and was ready for sleep to take him. He had been working to finish the final details of the big day. He knew that the wedding was making you anxious, it was doing the same to him. But he also knew that you didn’t feel at home, and you wouldn’t for a while until you had grown accustomed to your new life; so he tried to make it easier on you.

He handled most of the intricate details so you didn’t have to. The flower types, the dinner that was to be served, even the seating arrangements. He handled it all so you could have some peace with your father before he inevitably had to go back. He wanted to make sure you didn’t have a worry in the world. Seeing the smile on your face when he’d tell you he’d picked your favorite flowers to decorate the tables and your favorite meal for dinner.

The way you’d kissed him when he’d told you not to worry about a thing made it all worth it — just that one kiss. The way your eyes lit up in gratitude and the smile that graced your lips before your hands were on his cheeks and you were kissing his breath away. That was one of his favorite moments, one of the moments that made him so excited to be your husband, just one on the long, ever growing list.

He wanted to meet you in the garden again tonight, to sit and talk with you and kiss you some more, but he knew you wouldn’t be there. You both needed sleep for the big day, and he hoped you were getting it.

Just as sleep was about to pull him under, he heard a glass break — it was faint, like it came on the other side of the castle. His brows knitted together as he thought of who could be up and breaking things at this hour. But the list was endless. Sleepless servants, guests who were wandering the halls, or even a clumsy guard who knocked something over. He didn’t pay it any mind, but it did make a knot form in his gut, his instincts telling him to go check it out. But he ignored it. It was on the other side of the castle, by the time he’d get there to check, whoever had made the mess was surely to have it cleaned by then.

He turned over in his bed, ignoring the growing twists in his stomach as he closed his eyes once again. Sleep pulled him under quickly, throwing him into a dream of when you, he, and Steve were all kids running through the gardens playing hide and seek.

He was hiding behind a tree trunk, peaking around the corner, watching for Steve and for you. Steve was the seeker, and he was incredibly good at it -- or was it the fact that you and Bucky were never very good at hiding?

He saw Steve peeking in bushes and looking up in the trees -- you were a good climber. He stepped away from the tree trunk, ducking under a small hedge, crawling to the other side and crouching behind it. When he peeked over the top, he lost sight of Steve and his brows came together in confusion. He was right there, where'd he go.

A faint scream sounded behind him, and he turned around, seeing you with a smile on your face as you ran from Steve who had discovered your hiding spot — a poor choice of hiding under a bench — and the scream turned into a giggle as you ran into him, grabbing his hand and pulling him after you.

~•~

A scream woke Bucky, a guttural, ear piercing scream. It echoed through the halls, and ripped him from his dream. His eyes squinted as they opened to the brightness of the morning sun shining through his window. The scream sounded again, forcing a weight to fall into Bucky's chest as his eyes widened and he threw himself to his feet.

Not bothering with shoes or proper clothing, he ran down the hall in a pair of loose pants and a loose thin shirt. The wind cutting through the fabric and his feet smacking the stone as he ran to the source of the dread that awaited him.

The closer he got, the further his heart sank into his chest — it was coming from the hallway where your chambers were. He was about to come up to your hallway when a pain ripped through his foot. He hissed as he stumbled to the wall and raised his foot to see blood dripping from the bottom, glass shards sticking out. Glancing back to the floor, there was glass and a dead candle, the same glass that was in the bottom of his foot. His brows pinched together, hadn't he heard glass breaking last night?

A rush of footsteps down your hall pulled his attention away from the glass shards on the floor and he pushed off the wall, limping his way to your door and leaving a trail of bloody footprints in his wake. There was a crowd now, guards, maids, and Steve all staring down at something on the ground.

"Steve? What's going on?" His brother's head whipped in his direction and his eyes were full of unshed tears, glassy and unfocused. "Steve?" Bucky limped forward, ignoring the burning in his foot as he pushed his way past the people surrounding your door. When he reached the front, it felt like the world stopped spinning. The guard Steve assigned to you was lying in a pool of his own blood, his throat slit and his eyes vacant.

Bucky's chest caved as he exhaled all of the breath he had before looking up to your open door. He stepped over the body, into your room. It was a disaster. Clothes and furniture thrown about the space. Your small couch was tipped over, the small table broken in two, and your red drapes had been ripped from the windows. As he walked from your receiving room to your bedroom, his heart sunk deeper and deeper into the void that was claiming it.

Once he stepped foot in your room, it was like someone had reached in and pulled his heart out of his chest. It was equally as disastrous as your receiving room. The blankets ripped from your bed, half hanging off the mattress and half around the floor. The night stand on the left had been toppled over, spilling your jewelry and candles. His knees felt weak as he stumbled to your bed, dragging his fingertips over the fabric of the sheets.

A pair of boots hitting the stone floor came into the room and Bucky didn't have to look up to know that it was his brother.

"Where is she?" Bucky whispered, not taking his eyes off the sheets.

"No one has seen her since last night. We can only assume she was taken." Steve grumbled out, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. He felt at fault for your disappearance. He was supposed to protect you and keep you safe. He had promised you -- and he failed.

Bucky closed his fist around the sheets, gripping them as tight as his muscles would allow.

"Find her," His eyes snapped to Steve, "Find who took her. Make sure no one else has gone missi--" He paused, thinking of your words from the day before.

Something about Prince Rumlow is off. He scares me. The words echoed in his head.

"Find Rumlow."

Thank you for reading! As always - likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated! Stay tuned for part 3 <3

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