#duke!steve x duchess!reader

[myfictionaldreams]

Duke, Duchess and Knights // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: You get so lost in the fantasy dream that when it turns into a nightmare, you're not sure what reality is when you wake up screaming.

Requested by: @proseraphine - im sorry it's not exactly what you requested but I hope you like it regardless!

Tags: polyamory, angst, fluff, nightmares, panick attack, crying, mentions of murder, fantasy au, comfort

Words: 2.1 k

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There’s a mixture of muffled, panicked voices as you drift between sleep and reality.

“Doll, wake up! You’re just dreaming; listen to me, you need to wake up!”. The voice shouting for you to wake up sounded recognisable, but something more high-pitched was covering the sound of the voice you wanted to drift further towards. Someone was screaming, terrifyingly loud and shrill, and it took a couple of breaths to realise that it was you who sounded so frightened and fearful.

Upon this realisation, the unconscious world you’d been trapped in disappeared as you came back to full consciousness, attempting to sit bolt upright but found that you were being held up already. With the seconds it took for your eyes to dart around at your surroundings, you became aware of a few things.

One that Bucky was currently sitting in the middle of the bed with you between his legs, your head resting back against his shoulders and back against his chest as he wrapped his strong arms around your body to keep you in position. Two, that Steve was kneeling in front of you, his eyes so fearfully large and face drained of any colour as he reached to cup your face.

Everything felt incredibly disorienting; the room was spinning, and dark patches were edging around your eyesight. Not only that, but you were in uncomfortable pain, specifically in the centre of your chest and throat, presumably from the screaming you’d been doing for god-knows how long. There also seemed to be an unsettling amount of fluids coating your face and body, and only then did you realise that you were also crying hysterically.

“Baby, look at me. I need you to listen to me and take a deep breath, " Steve instructs, panic coating every word he speaks, only adding to your fear that something is incredibly wrong.

You try, though. Try to open your mouth to take a breath, but it felt like someone was wrapping their hands around your lungs so that you couldn’t draw a breath. The lack of air added to your disorientation and dizziness, feeling like you were trapped in your own body.

The hands around your face tightened to bring your attention back to Steve as he rolled his shoulders and attempted to relax his facial features to look as calm as possible. “Keep looking at me, Sweetheart. Now, I want you to try again and take a deep breath, slowly, like this” he then proceeds to take a deep, slow breath through his nose and out of his mouth.

You try and copy but still find it a struggle to open your lungs as your body seems to be still trapped within the state of fear caused by your nightmare. A chaste kiss to the side of your head captures your attention as a different voice begins to talk from behind, “It’s okay. I’ve got you, Mama. Breath in nice and slow and out through your mouth”, Bucky repeats Steve instructions as he continued to hold you. Only then did you realise that he was forcing his chest to move up and down to mimic the slow breathing, giving you something to ground yourself to and copy the movements yourself.

The next breath that you take is shaky but enough to fill your lungs that you can release a desperate sob.

“That’s good, really good. But I need you to do it a few more times for me. That’s it, breathe in again and out slowly, " Steve instructs, giving you a soft smile that would have melted your heart in any other circumstance.

Each breath had the tightness easing in your chest as you began to relax into Bucky’s hold until you could breathe without the fear of becoming trapped by a panic attack. However, as your breathing eased, this gave you the energy to pathetically sob and weep, reaching to grip both Steve and Bucky’s arms, needing to feel their warmth and touch.

“Shhh, it’s ok, we’re here. We aren’t going anywhere. You’re safe, Baby girl”, Steve spoke delicately, his voice audible over a whisper as he made you feel safe in the room with him and Bucky.

“I- I- Thought- It felt so real-” you choke on the words tumbling out. Everything was so intense and overwhelming that even though you knew you weren’t in any danger, the hysterics continued. Bucky rocked his body gently to try to calm you down as Steve’s thumbs attempted to catch the endless flow of tears, but eventually, his hands were soaked, and he used the corner of the blanket on the bed to dry your face.

“Try to relax for us. Whatever you dreamt about wasn’t real; none of it was true. You’re safe with me and Steve, and you always will be”, Bucky reassures as he pulls your body closer to his so you are in a tight cocoon of his arms around your waist.

Steve inches forward as well, pressing his bare chest against your face and arms around the back of Bucky’s so that you are in a boyfriend's sandwich. The warmth surrounded every part of you, like they were human radiators, calming you down to the centre of your being. The hysterical sobs quieted enough that you were now only sniffling with hiccups, attempting to manage your emotions adequately to lean into them further.

Your eyes were sore and slightly swollen, and your throat was burning from the screaming and crying. It had been such a long time since a nightmare had rocked you to the very core like this; however, usually, it was due to something from your past, not the fantasy journey your unconscious mind seemed to take you to.

“It’s so stupid”, you admit after a couple of silent minutes, nuzzling your aching face into the shoulder of Steve, savouring further his warmth and muscles that flexed at the action.

Steve leans back slightly but only to kiss your temple carefully, “What’s stupid?” he asks.

“My dream or, I guess, my nightmare. Whatever it was, it was so stupid to overreact the way I have, but it just felt so real”.

Bucky shifted the arms around your waist so his metal fingers interlocked with your smaller hand, cradling it and drawing circles in your palm with his thumb. “Doll, whatever your nightmare was about, it’s not stupid, especially to have frightened you this much. You know we’ll always be here for you, whether you want to tell us what happened or not. But, from my personal experiences with nightmares, it might feel better to talk to someone”.

You sigh, knowing he was right and you’d had to do this exact sort of care with him on multiple occasions when he had nightmares from his past as an assassin. Taking a steading breath and letting the air out slowly through your mouth, you tilted your upper body to look up and between your two boyfriends to begin explaining your dream.

“You both…died. I mean- we all died in the nightmare, but I had to watch you both die first” As you remembered the horror of seeing the light leave Steve and Bucky’s eyes, a tear escaped yours, landing on Bucky’s arm. “I only woke up from the nightmare because I died in the dream and could hear you both shouting. I thought it was some sort of weird afterlife that I’d fallen into”.

Steve dips his face lower to meet yours, his nose nudging the very tip of yours, drawing a smile to your lips at the soft touch. “That’s not stupid at all. It was all just a dream; we’re very much still alive. Don’t worry about that, Sweetheart”.

Sighing, you close your eyes for a moment, not because of the sadness quickly easing away from your tense limbs but because you remembered the rest of your dream. Each of your cheeks warmed in embarrassment as you avoided looking either of them in the eye. “It’s not the death that was the stupid part; it was just the part that scared me the most. I was quite enjoying the rest of the dream before all of the death, but you’re going to think it’s silly2.

Steve and Bucky share a confused look between themselves. “Anything you tell us won’t be silly or stupid. You’ve seen what Stevie here draws in his spare time.  Can’t be more silly than monkeys riding on unicycles.” Bucky tries to cheer you up, and it works as you giggle against his chest as Steve gives his boyfriend a deadpan head tilt.

As you look between the blonde and brunette Mafia men, you already know you will regret telling them. “Promise me that you won’t laugh at me”.

“Baby, there’s no way I’m laughing at anything you say, especially after just watching you nearly have a panic attack”, Steve concludes as Bucky nods with his words.

Trying to breathe away the tension in your body, you begin to tell them the intricate details of your dream that consequently shifted to your worst nightmare. It was a land you’d never heard of before, thick with orange-shaded trees as Autumn drew in. You were in a ridiculously lavish dress. Steve sat beside you in his golden attire as the carriage rocked with the uneven path.

You were the Duchess of the land whilst Steve was the Duke. The two of you were targets for many dark forces, which was where Bucky came into the dream, saving you both on your travels as attackers went for the carriage. Thankfully, Bucky, a local knight, had saved the two of you, and eventually, as the dream spilt through snippets of a relationship, the duo became a trio. It was all whimsical and light-hearted as it seemed to parallel your life with both of them, but it was in this fantasy universe.

The dream, however, started to darken into a nightmare as the three of you were captured by the forces who had been seeking to find you and Steve. “I don’t know, it was like some sort of fantasy novel in my head, and it was all so peaceful, but then everything changed so quickly. I had to watch you both be killed by Bucky’s own sword, which then was shoved into my chest just before I woke up”.

As you recalled their fictional deaths, you visibly shook as fear began to spark through your body once more. Steve moved first, kissing your cheek a few times to help keep that anxiety away, “Well, it was all just a dream, nothing to be frightened of, Sweetheart. And that wasn’t stupid or stilly, was it, Bucky?” Steve asks his boyfriend with a glare.

You look up, confused by the negative look from Steve, only to find Bucky holding in a laugh as he nods but then cracks, releasing a light-hearted laugh. You release the hold on his hand but only so you can swat at his shoulder, even more embarrassed than before as you look towards the wall, away from them both.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, it’s just - what kind of an idiot gets killed by his own sword?” Bucky asks, laughing and causing you to sway on the bed as his chest vibrates with his chuckles.

Despite the embarrassment, you couldn’t help the smile teasing your lips, “You told me you wouldn’t laugh!”

“I’m sorry; I promise I’ll stop laughing; just give me time to process this all”. Taking a deep breath, Bucky attempts to compose himself, but as soon as you both catch eye contact again, the three of you laugh at the entire situation.

“At least we know Bucky’s a dumbass in this world and your dreams”, Steve casually mentions as he kisses beneath your jaw.

“Hey! At least I had a sword; your lazy ass still needed saving, even in her dreams. What does that say about you?” Bucky counters, making you laugh even harder and cling to both men.

“For two of the most powerful people in Brooklyn, you really are just a couple of goofballs”, you say whilst lovingly cupping both of their faces, kissing each of them in turn. “Thank you for helping me through my panic attack”.

“You’re most welcome, your royal duchess. Your noble knight will always be here to protect you”, Bucky joked in an emphasised lower tone that only caused you to laugh harder.

Steve rolls his eyes, but you can see his attempts at trying to hide his smile as he looks between Bucky and you. “I do think we need to stop watching Game of Thrones before bed”.

[artficlly]

the horselords of naraik [chapter 3]

A quiet civil war has raged across the kingdom of Garwic for nearly three decades. The cruelty of the Duke of Garwic knows no end, bringing death and misery with each raid upon the lower-class. The horselords of naraik have fought to protect those suffering under the Duke's violence. The reader being the daughter of the duke is captured and held for ransom, only things are not as they seem. The reader can only hope that the horselords recognise her as a victim rather than a villain before it is too late. Fantasy AU

Pairing: horselord!bucky x duchess!witch!reader

Warnings: huge suicidal thoughts/intentions warning, huge SA warning (not to reader), bucky is an asshole in this but he gets better in the next chapter i promise, violence, blood, wounds, death, swearing, yelling, angst, tension, mention of sickness, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: i don't like this chapter which is why it's taken me so long to get up. feeling very burnt out. this chapter is particularly triggering in regard to suicidal topics as well as SA topics so please read at your own risk. not proof read - sorry for any typos

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You felt the storm long before its presence was known. There was an energy to the wind, a taste of electricity on your tongue. The entire ride to the next camp had been riddled with anxious energy, the horses twitching and acting up. The horde were connected with their horses, bonded for life and they knew that the weather was coming in and fast. Your trek had been cut short, men and women rushing to put up the tents before the wind set in. They lay river rocks along the base of the canvas, holding the billowing fabric in place. 

You had broken your hunger strike a week previous, much to the relief of many. You were still not allowed to help May or the healers, but they felt comfort in your presence. The healer women would often sneak you fruit in exchange for recipes or advice. Steve and Nat turned a blind eye, often helping the women sneak back and forth without Bucky’s knowledge. 

Still blindfolded, it seemed someone had taken pity on you. Your usual setup of being tied to a tree had been upgraded, now only your hands tied together with a length of rope attached to the tree. You were able to stand and walk for a short perimeter around the tree, often pacing in circles around the trunk until the rope became tangled. Nat said you were acting like a caged dog, pacing and snarling away. In reality it helped you pass the hours, gave you something to do other than mulling over how to escape your doom uselessly. If things had seemed dire before, now with the knowledge Steve had given you everything seemed worse. Even if you knew death was quickly approaching, you decided to spend your last weeks acting like nothing was wrong.

The strong storm winds tussled your hair as you stood, arms braced over your chest for warmth. The rain would arrive soon, you could smell it in the air. In the distance thunder roared closer and closer, it would be upon the camp like a stampeding herd of horses within the hour. The horde's worry wasn’t entirely focused on the storm though, instead hushed whispers carried across the wind as a terrible screaming shook the camp. Wanda had gone into labor hours ago, and it seemed the labor continued to rage on alongside the storm. A doncayo child, as you had predicted. You knew the labor would be hard, contractions rising and falling with the wind and rain. Wanda would have to be one with the storm, time herself with the rumblings of thunder and the flashes of lightning if she hoped her boy would come soon. 

You and Steve had barely heard any news of the progress of the birth, only hearing Wanda’s pained cries as the storm grew nearer and nearer. Nat had rushed off as soon as the labor had started to help, leaving the two of you in a foreboding silence. Hours had passed of this hush between the two of you, only being broken as the storm began to pass directly over the top of you. The anxiety of the camp was high, shouts of panic lost to the wind as Wanda’s screaming was lost to waves of thunder. Each time it reverberated across the landscape the booming would become louder and louder, lightning blinding you even through your blindfold. Steve began muttering about where to house you for the night, clearly unhappy with Bucky’s decision to let you brave the storm outside. 

“Steve!” Nat’s voice shouted over the howl of the wind, words nearly swallowed by the air that rushed past. You couldn’t see her due to the blindfold, but you could sense her worry through her tone. The birth didn’t seem to be going well you had gathered. Although the skies had been dark before, now the setting sun behind the clouds was casting the plains into darkness. 

Steve and Nat exchanged some words you couldn’t quite make out, words and speech lost to the roaring of the wind. You continued to hug your body tightly, using your damp hair to shelter your face from the lashings of rain. The horde would be fine with their furs and cloaks, whereas you were armed with only a light linen shirt and skirt. You strained your ears, flinching slightly as another roll of thunder deafened you momentarily. 

The squelch of muddy grass was the only thing to indicate to you of Steve’s sudden closeness. You jolted nevertheless, teeth chattering as he pulled you towards his chest with your bound hands.

“Come.” He instructed, voice raised so you could hear him over the storm. You cocked your head quizzically, only understanding as you felt the cool of a blade cut your bound wrists free. 

“Where are we going?” You shouted back, wincing as you rubbed your tender wrists. Steve’s hand found the small of your back, guiding you in the direction of the camp. You were quick to pull off the blindfold, squinting as another flash of lightning engulfed the camp in a blinding white light. You could briefly make out men securing loose tent flaps which blew in the wind, women rushing between tents children in tow but most alarming was Nat. 

Her eyes met yours, fear and exhaustion painted across her expression. Her eyebrows were knitted together, crows feet pulled together. Your eyes had cast down to where she braced her hands in front of her stomach, blood lining the skin. Even the sleeves of her shirt were stained pink, blood diluted by the rain.

“Wanda. The baby… it’s twisted so it won’t pass. The healers are at a loss, we don’t have a midwife.” Nat explained, exasperated. You abandon the blindfold in the mud, frowning hard as your eyes follow to the sound of Wanda’s screams. 

You hesitate for a moment, Steve’s hand pressing harder into the small of your back as he glances at you in confusion. “What about Bucky–” 

“Since when have you cared about what he thinks?” Steve snaps back, catching you off guard. 

“Wanda will die if we don’t act quickly, she has already lost too much blood–” Nat begins and you cut her off.

“Take me to her.” You reply determinedly, rushing into the tent alongside the two warriors. 

The tent was far warmer and dryer than the weather outside, Wanda groaning as some of the wind rushed in alongside the three of you. There was a darkness cast across the interior, only candles which lined most surfaces casting a dim light. Wanda lay on the bed, blood staining the furs and sweat pooling across her skin. Healers muttered worriedly among each other, only pausing as they caught sight of you half-drenched with a look of determination in your eye. 

Wanda let out a sob, muttering your name weakly as she reached out with pale, shaking hands. You were quick to move to her side, pushing strands of damp auburn hair from her sticky forehead. She looked weaker than you had first assumed, skin clammy paired with eyelids that could barely flutter open. You hushed the auburn, your stiff fingers stroking over her swollen belly as you tried to feel how the baby was positioned. 

You could feel the form through the tight skin, Wanda’s muscles tensing as another contraction washed over her body. You squeezed her hand throughout, feeling how her stomach strained beneath your palm. Only as the contraction came to its end, the thunder outside fizzling out did you allow yourself to move. 

“Get fresh towels and water.” You instruct, glancing at the old water and fabric which was stained with blood. One of the healers sprung to action, dashing out of the door instantly. Beneath you, Wanda sobbed to Nat while the red-head murmured to the woman. You kneeled between Wanda’s legs, letting out a shaking breath. 

“Wanda. Wanda, look at me.” You instructed, palm braced against one of her knees. The auburn’s eyes snapped towards yours, eyes red and puffy. You gave her a reassuring smile, worry biting in your gut as you anticipated the next roll of thunder and contractions to come. 

“The baby is around the wrong way.” You explain, shaking your head as Wanda is thrown into hysterics once more. “It’s okay. I can move him, I will have to reach in and guide him. Once I have repositioned him, you will have to push.”

“I can’t.” The auburn sobbed. 

“Yes you can. I just need you to listen to me and push when I tell you to, he is a doncayo child, we must time it with the thunder.” You explain, a sense of relief coming over you as the healer comes rushing back in with fresh water. 

“I don’t understand.” Wanda continues to cry, you shake your head with a tut as you wash your hands in the freshwater. 

“That is okay. I will guide you.” You say reassuringly, positioning your hands before Wanda has time to react. 

xxx

You had barely finished washing the blood off your hands in the basin of water when Bucky stormed into the tent. Anger and droplets of rain rolled off of his hulking body in waves, his chest heaving for breath after fighting the strong winds. 

Nat, who was crouched next to the bed, visibly tensed, standing as she faced the enraged warrior. Steve, who had stayed stoic the entire birth composure faltering slightly. You angled yourself to face Wanda, back turned to Bucky as you dipped your hands and forearms deeper into the cold water with a huff. 

“You directly disobeyed my order.” Bucky rumbled as deeply as the thunder that still loomed outside. The storm was still going strong, lightning crashing down to earth as the rain continued to assault the camp in icy sheets. 

“Wanda would have died if we didn’t get her help!” Nat protested, motioning to the woman who lay weakly in the bed. In her arms she held a crying infant, a boy as you had predicted. She had lost a lot of blood and was tired, but she would live thankfully. Once you had been able to reposition her son he had arrived easily, much to everyone’s relief. 

“You disobeyed an order.” Bucky repeated himself, voice low and dangerous. You tried your best to hold your tongue, drying your hands on a nearby towel. “What has happened to us? Has this witch enchanted all of your minds? Someone should have ridden to a nearby town to fetch a midwife–" 

“Ride? In this storm?” Nat barks with a harsh laugh. “You are a fool!”

“No. You are the fool, letting this woman infect you! Don’t you remember who she is, who she shares her blood with?” Bucky continues. 

“She has the symbol–” Steve cuts in. 

“Quiet!” Bucky interrupts him. “She is a duchess, our enemy, like her mother–” 

“Enough!” You shout, sending the room into a stunned silence. The only sound that follows is the sound of you dropping the damp towel onto the table. Outside the winds have grown silent, not even the canvas of the tent rustling with the gale. The rain had stopped, even the roar of the river close-by having gone silent. For a moment, the group of you breathe in the heavy silence, the thunder long gone as if the storm had suddenly disappeared. 

With achingly slow steps you walk towards Bucky, who assesses you with a snarl. You position yourself between him and Nat, watching how his chest heaved with rage as he looked down upon you. 

“You don’t get to speak about my mother in that way.” You say defiantly, chin lifted. Your voice is unshaking, gaze firmly meeting Bucky’s whose rage had grown into a look of amusement, as if he were in disbelief that you would speak in such a commanding tone – to him – your captor. 

“You best learn your place you–” Bucky starts, anger laced in his tone. Your scowl deepens, not allowing him to finish his sentence before you interrupt. 

“I said, enough!” You shout, the air feels like it has been sucked from the room into you. The energy that crackles through your blood stings, as if the storm itself had entered your skin. Bucky’s mouth is still open, but words fail to come out as if they had been stolen from his lips. The candles that line every surface all suddenly go out, as if a flash of air had stolen not only Bucky’s words but their life. The tent is cast into an even deeper silence, Wanda’s son no longer crying. The tent is drenched in darknesss, in the dim light you see Nat’s eyes flash in fear. There was no sound of the storm, no words uttered, only the darkness and the power radiating off your body as you gaze upon Bucky with bared teeth. 

“My mother was raped,” You hiss at the horselord. “Like many women before and after her, she was taken against her will during the raids. Do you think she wanted that? That she asked for it? The duke was infatuated with her, so he forced his seed upon her. When it was over, he grew embarrassed. A duke laying with a commoner, a magic user at that? He created a rumor that she had enchanted him to fuel his campaign of violence! My mother did everything to protect me, to keep me hidden from him.” Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, a look of contemplation crossing the horselords face. 

“I don’t believe you.” He states, deadpan. 

“What?” You gasp in disbelief. 

“I said, I don't believe you. She was a witch, why didn’t she take a potion? Why would she carry a monster's child? Why didn’t she cut you from her womb like a parasite? Why would a witch test fate knowing she could not change it?” 

Your shoulders dropped, you knew the answers to all those questions but it was pointless. You had tried fighting for so long, you had tried fighting for years. All you were met with was the crack of the whip and another rope tied around your wrists. You had tried fighting, screaming, biting and running. It was no use. There was no life left behind your eyes, no spark of the girl you had once been. So many years you had been nothing but numb, turning to starvation and self mutilation to feel something other than emptiness. The magic that flowed from you was a defense mechanism, there was no artistry, no passion or love left for the craft. You were empty. A husk of your former self, tormented night and day by those you had lost. 

The tent burst back to life, the wicks of the candles flickering back to life, the baby crying once more. Outside the rain pelted onto the fabric of the tent, the wind howling and screeching as it tore through the camp. Even the river roared, its banks overflowing. And you were no longer a storm, instead just a scared little girl. The beast you had possessed, the power that prowled and snarled beneath your skin gone. It was lost with the wind. 

“The promises you hold yourself to will be your downfall,” You utter with the last of your breath, not even bothering to check the reactions of those in the tent. Instead you walk past Bucky, opening the tent flap and walking directly into the storm outside. 

The winds had grown since you had been outside, almost instantly drenched by the side-ways rain that assaulted you in icy sheets. Your arms went to wrap around your torso, protecting your shivering form from the strong winds that whipped the air straight from your lungs. No one dared to follow you into the madness, even the other members of the horde had retreated into their tents to hunker down for the rest of the night. 

Staggering against the gales of wind, you were unsure if you were crying from the whipping wind piercing your eyes, or from the confrontation from moments before. A sob from deep inside your chest was lost to the crashing of the storm, lightning momentarily lightning up the ground beneath you. The river was overflowing, waters pulling dangerously close to the tree you had been tied to. 

Despite all things warning you to stay away, to find a warm tent somewhere, you pressed deeper into the storm until your legs gave in from a mixture of the battle against the strong winds and the exhaustion of the past few hours. You were overwhelmed by grief, everything you had lived for was for nothing. Your mother had died for nothing. You missed her, and you had never been allowed to mourn her. You had never been allowed to mourn all the lives lost in Idamir during the final raids. So many months you had spent in your fathers clutches, so many weeks you had allowed yourself to be doubted by the horde that could save you. You were a fool and a coward, you had allowed hope and your desire to live dominate your senses. Your fate, your destiny, it would not be one worth living. You wished to just tell Bucky the truth, why your father kept you at his manor. But fear clutched your heart, fear that maybe he would hand you over regardless. 

There was no kindness left in your world, only the cruel hand of fate and death. You were ready to outstretch your own hand and let them carry you away. 

Your hair was slick against your face and neck, clothes painfully snapping against your shivering skin as they were pulled to-and-fro by the wind. Your knees connected with the muddy bank of the river, chest heaving as you leaned against the tree. You wove the rope you had previously tied to around your palm. The river was violent, brown water roaring past with large branches and trunks of trees caught in its current. You wished you could wade into the depths, let the currents pull you away. You would be the rock with the three knots, your father the fever you washed away. 

But once again, you were a coward. Instead you lay your head down against the wet ground, watching as the river swelled. You were so tired, so weak. You could only hope the river would take mercy on you and sweep you away in your sleep. That when you opened your eyes again, only the darkness of death would greet you. 

xxx

You awoke to the sound of Nat’s voice. For a moment, you wondered if the storm had carried you all away. You could imagine the river swelling further, banks bursting into the camp and sweeping the entire horde away. Nat’s voice floated above you, calling with worry. Despite your best efforts, the call of the darkness was stronger than the will to open your eyes. You slipped in between two worlds, the peacefulness of rest and the torture of Nat poking and proding above you. 

Your neck and back ached, legs up to your thighs submerged in a thin layer of water. You flashed between hot and cold, hair laden with mud stuck across your flushed skin. A set of cool fingers were pressed against your forehead, another worried mumble coming from the woman. 

“Is she alive?” Another similar voice asked, deeper and male. Steve. You almost stirred at that, the soft feeling of fur tickling your exposed skin as if he had draped his cloak over your frail body. 

“Barely. She won’t wake,” Nat whispered in a hushed tone to the warrior, pushing some of the stiff hair that had dried against your cheek. Her fingers paused with a jolt as the sound of mud squelching beneath boots drew closer, an annoyed grunt leaving the lips of whoever lingered nearby. Even in your delirious state, you knew who it was. You tried to focus your mind on the rush of the nearby river, the call of the birds that had returned now the storm had passed. 

“Wake her and give her some food.” The gruff voice of Bucky instructed.

“She won’t wake up.” Natasha repeated to the horselord, fingers skimming over your scorching skin. 

“She is probably faking it,” Bucky replied with a huff. “Hoping we will forget her so she can make her escape.” 

“No. Bucky, she’s feverish and her pulse is weak, I can barely feel it–” Natasha explained, upset clear in her voice. You could hear the rustle of clothing, as if Steve had reached out to her as he hand was quickly withdrawn from your face. 

The three of them were silent, for a moment you thought you had slipped away into unconsciousness once more. Instead Bucky spoke up once more, this time uncharacteristic worry in his voice. “Show me.” 

There was more movement, then a set of large callused fingers tenderly pressed against your neck. Bucky was silent as he felt your slow pulse, the back of his free hand delicately brushing against your forehead to feel your temperature. 

“This is your fault,” Nat hissed from somewhere nearby. “She is the one you told us to look for, the one with the symbol. She’s supposed to help us and all you have done is ruin everything.”

“Quiet, Nat.” Steve grumbled in response. Bucky’s touch didn’t waver as he continued to assess your condition. 

“No! You be quiet. You always defend him. She was right, Bucky. Your promises to yourself will not only cause your downfall but the death of us all! As much as we deny it, the Garwic soldiers are slaughtering the south in mass! We can’t hold on for much longer!” Nat snapped, only then did Bucky withdraw his touch with a loud sigh. 

“I fear you are right.” He replied defeatedly, leaving the two warriors in a stunned silence. Only then do you try your best to open your eyes, to reach out for the horselord but strength alludes you once more.

To your surprise, Bucky doesn’t retreat in shame at this realization. Instead you feel a pair of arms scoop you up, one holding you by the crook of your knee, the other behind your shoulder blades. Your side is pressed up against Bucky’s chest, body limp and at the mercy of his gait as he carries you back into the camp. You try to open your eyes once more, trying to grip the forearm that holds you close but you cannot. You are so cold, skin covered in goosebumps and wracked with chills. Your limbs feel stiff and frozen, but burning with fever all at once. You head lulls with each step, hair thick with mud dangling freely. 

The murmurs of camp merge into one, the sounds of construction and voices all jumbled into a symphony of noise. You can’t find the effort to isolate one voice or gasp of worry. Instead your mind falls blank, only snapping back as you feel the heat of a fire against your skin. You are placed down onto soft furs with delicate care, fingers pulling the strands of hair from your face. 

“Nat, undress her from those wet clothes. We need to get her warm and dry.” Bucky instructs, which is met with a confirming noise from Nat who is quickly by your side. Only as Nat pulls you into a sitting position, are you able to open your eyes weakly. If the woman notices, she doesn’t reveal it. Instead she works on pulling off your shirt with some struggle, as she is also supporting your bodyweight. 

You are sat in what you assume is Bucky’s tent, as the tent is larger than most you had previously been in. The room is decorated with not only a make-shift fire place, rugs and a bed but a table covered in a worn paper map. Near the entrance, Bucky and Steve stand near the tent flaps muttering under their breath to each other. 

Nat had flicked your hair over your shoulders so they covered your breasts, huffing as she tried to pull the shirt over your head. Only then did your body go rigid, a sudden energy rushing through your veins as you tense in fear. You were unsure if it was muscle memory that triggered the fight or flight, or your feverish brain finally kicking into motion. 

“Nat stop,” You suddenly speak up. Your voice is gravelly and weak, Nat only chuckling in response and half in relief like she was glad you were suddenly revived. 

“I’ve seen you naked before.” She replied light-heartly, as if thinking that were the issue. Your hands twisted around your body, trying to weakly locate her hands to stop her as she dragged the shirt further up your back. 

“Nat–” You start weakly, but are cut off by her sudden stiffness. A gasp leaves her, shirt finally risen past your shoulders where your entire back was exposed to her eyes. You squeeze your eyes closed, swallowing back defeated tears. How many weeks, months had you kept it hidden? Everytime you bathed you always made sure your long strands of hair obscured your back from vision. You didn’t want them to know, you knew it would bring up too many questions. Questions you wouldn’t want to answer. 

“Nat, please–” you begin to beg, eyes flickering open once more but you know it is pointless. You don’t even have to turn to face her to know her eyes would be laced with horror. 

Your back was a reminder, at least that's what your father called it. A reminder of who you were, what you were and even after you became something new, it would remind you that you were always a weak, magic-using commoner. It was bold for the horde to assume that just because you were the dukes blood, that he wouldn’t treat you with the same cruelty that he treated all his prisoners. 

Your back was lined with scars, some fresher than others. Each white line arced across your once smooth skin, some flat and sharp, other raised and gnarled like the knots in a tree. They overlapped each other, months of suffering and hatred forever carved into your skin. A reminder of who you were. A reminder of who your father was. A reminder that despite everything, the scars inflicted across your back was not the worst pain, the worst trial you would face. No, what your father had planned for you was far worse. And you could not escape.

“Bucky, look at this.” Nat calls out, distress laced in her tone. Your head dips in defeat, too weak to fight back as the two warriors walk over with curiosity. Nat holds the shirt firmly up, not allowing you to squirm and hide it as you flinch away from Bucky’s sudden closeness as he crouches beside you. 

Both him and Steve are wordless, exhaustion tugs at your bones as you focus on trying to hold yourself up-right and breathing steadily while their eyes rake over the exposed scars. Your eyes see Bucky’s fists first, balled up and grown white with strain as he clenches around the fur of the rugs. Your eyes slowly shifted up, over his forceps where veins bulge, across the furred cloak draped over his shoulders before finally resting on his face. And to your surprise, his expression wasn’t one of disgust or pity. Instead it was one of rage. 

Bucky’s eyes snap to yours, the burning hatred swirling beyond the blue softening slightly as he takes in your defeated, muddy face. “Who did this?” 

You bite back a laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Who do you think?”

“But why? You are his daughter, his blood–”

“You really think that would have stopped him? Stopped his cruelty? He did it not only because he enjoyed it but because he hated me.” You reply, letting the bubble of anxious laughter finally leave your chest. You feel as if hysteria has finally gripped you, you’re unsure if you’re sobbing or laughing as Steve’s fingers tenderly brush over the scars. 

“You’re still hiding something.” Bucky states, fingers finding your chin as he forces you to look at him. You bite your tongue, laughter falling silent as you gaze up at him. His look is softer than any he had ever given you. He gazed upon you with that tenderness, as if asking how he could help you, rather than demanding information from you like a captor and hostage. 

“I will tell you, but you have to promise me something.” You say to him, gaze momentarily flickering to your mothers knife that still hung from his belt, like the first day you had met. His gaze follows yours, a deep frown flickering over his features. 

“Promise you what?” He asks, beside you Steve and Nat are silent, breaths drawn in anticipation. 

“No matter what happens, you must kill me. Let the fever take me, slit my throat, I do not care. You must ignore the ransom, you must kill me because I would rather die than return to him.”

“Why?” Bucky asks, he sounds breathless.

“Promise me.” You insist. 

“I will promise after you tell me why.”

“I need you to promise first Bucky.” Your voice grew into desperate rasps, fists curling around the fur rugs beneath you as you leaned closer to him. A silence grows in the tent as Bucky seems to contemplate his next words. 

“Promise me.” You demand, tears threatening to surface. 

“I won’t kill you.” He states simply, unable to meet your eye as a noise of anguish leaves your lips.

“Why? Why won’t you just kill me!” You were now edging on shouting, limbs trembling. “Do you know how long I have suffered? Do you not understand that I am done with all of this?”

The three warriors were silent once again, Steve and Nat glancing towards Bucky whose lips pressed together in a concerned frown, yet he continued to deny the promise you demanded. You had thought for a moment that maybe he cared when he brought you in here, that perhaps a part of him felt sorry for all the cruel words he had spoken. Once again, you had the crawling sensation of defeat lingering in your chest, a feeling that you had been tricked or deceived into thinking you could be saved. 

“That day you took the manor, I was moments away from slitting my own throat in my fathers drawing room.” A sound half-way between a sob and a laugh bubbling in your chest. “I thought that the horde coming there was some kind of sign, some kind of intervention by fate.”

“What?” Steve asks in disbelief. Your eyes flutter upwards, as if tempting fate itself to strike you down for your foolishness.

“I didn’t go through with it, but now I can see that was a mistake.” You utter.

Only in that moment does Bucky finally offer up a noise, sighing heavily through his nose. Your eyes remain transfixed on the ceiling of the tent. You fear that if you look down that tears would spill, instead most of your focus going into controlling the fever chills that shook your fragile frame. 

“If you won’t tell me your reasoning, I cannot promise you anything.” Bucky says. Your eyes finally flutter down, locking in a tense stare with Bucky’s.  

“I suppose we are at a standstill.” He states, getting to his feet. “I cannot help you if you will not tell me.”

[nickfowlerrr]

working on it

main masterlist

this is a list of all my wips (including requests) so we can all be on the same page in regards to what i have coming up 🖤

*these aren’t in any particular order - as you guys know, i write what i have inspiration to write and not in order of when requests were received or series were updated.* if you don't see your request on here, and did not get a response from me letting you know i'd be unable to write it, then i didn't receive it. feel free to send it in again if you'd like.

i saw @sweetpeapod’s “to do list” and it’s such a great idea i literally never would’ve thought to make one myself so all credit to her for this! 🥰

updated: 06/06/23

legend: actively writing • on hold/writer’s block • haven’t started

series

bucky barnes:

if i could - chapter five

keeping secrets - chapter seven

stucky:

trust me - chapter two

drabbles, one shots or continuations (not series)

andy barber:

waiting - pt 2

dark!professor andy

bucky barnes:

soft!dark bucky - basement wife

dark!brat tamer bucky

you can’t - pt 2

dark!ex bucky - pregnant reader (might not end up dark lolll)

when a stranger calls bucky

yandere mechanic bucky

“enemies” to lovers bucky

iou - pt 2…possible miniseries

enemies to lovers - one bed trope

die happy - chubby!reader

first time for everything - drabble

call it what you want to - pt 2

mean!bucky one shot

duke!bucky x duchess!reader (soft!dark?)

pro wrestler!bucky

charles blackwood:

dark!charles halloween fic

lee bodecker:

dark!lee - traveling!reader

dark!lee - salem witch trial

lloyd hansen:

-

ransom drysdale:

delivery - one shot

mean!ransom one shot

nick fowler:

dark!nick - daddy’s dead - one shot

steve kemp:

-

steve rogers:

mean!steve one shot

stucky:

dark! road trip fic (two stories in one/choose your own adventure)

royalty au

fumbling - drabble

fawn - pt 2

requests

humble request to the queen of my lil dark heart for your sluttiest a/b/o with your man of choice inspired by ‘hurt you’ by the weeknd 🖤

bucky barnes:

request/imagine: mafia bucky x reader where bucky is very obviously obsessed/infatuated with the reader and just wants her to be his but she plays hard to get (for some time) and starts hanging out with other men so he gets jealous and punishes her (smut if you want with degradation/humiliation kink idk💀) very new to tumblr so idk if im doing this right or not. thank you! 💘

Dearie write some angry seggs with Bucky barnes

Scenario 5 10 17 22 please & Dialogue prompts 32 and 38 please with bucky 😭 he’s a total grinch throughout but seeing the reader happy makes him happy and I love the grumpy x sunshine trope🤤😮‍💨

Hey yo! I'm not sure if you're still accepting Christmas prompts or anything (I've absolutely loved reading them) But I've been listening to this song on repeat and idk, I can just imagine the reader singing it to Buck on their first christmas together, and him falling even more in love with them. Anywho, happy holidays, can't wait to read anything and everything you bless us all with 🥰❤️🎄

What would have happened in a AU version of your dark biker Bucky finding his soulmate finally…and also meeting her husband?

What if the reader had a really toxic husband who wouldn’t let her go or let their divorce proceed unless she cheated on him? Only the man she picks for her affair, Bucky Barnes, is WAY worse than her husband and she doesn’t realize until it’s too late? (No idea though if this is like a mobster Bucky or Winter Solider or some other profession)

a bucky fic of any length based on this text exchange with my husband (who’s deployed) ((i’m the red bubble lol)) 🥹 you work is magic so i trust however you wanna take this

Bellllaaaaa hiiii:) I’m hooked on biker/bartender bucky(even tattoo artist bucky) with fucking Tats right now and I’d totally love if you could maybe write him and chubby/plus sized reader having a flirty relationship, maybe they’re like a fling or something. She works at his bar/tattoo shop, whichever au you pick, and they’re just fucking flirty and so naughty together lol. Smut is always welcomed!! Thank u bby in advance<3 mwahhh🥺💋

Was curious if you could do a TFAWS Bucky request? Reader is a curvy plus size gal, and Sam has been trying and trying to get Bucky to ask her out. Then one day, he finds her really upset and self conscious… He finally lets his true feelings show, trying to make her feel better… maybe it turns into more? 👀🥰 Like…. ‘Let me just show you how beautiful you are..’ kinda thing lol. I really hope that made sense ☠️☠️

charles blackwood:

Hello there I want to ask... Do you still write Charles blackwood x reader fanfic? It has to be very romantic but very naughty. Charles being very sexy and dominating. It is also the reader's very first time with him too. Can it include a photo of Charles as well? Thanks x

max burnett:

Hi can I request a max Burnett x plus!size reader.

nick fowler:

Okay, speaking of thots, having the Nick Fowler says something sexy in Romanian and leaves gifs back-to-back with the 'no, I'm not okay; I should be sucking his dick rn" thot was— 🥵 Think you could combine those two into a little (or big, would not complain 😉) something something? 😘🤍 👉🏻👈🏻

I’m reading a book about the history evolution of dating, and it has this section on sugar daddies and babies. Apparently a lot of sugar babies are warned not to fall for their daddies, but the women report that usually it’s the other way around and the men fall for them. So what about a soft dark mafia Nick who quickly gets obsessed with his sugar baby reader? He just get more intense the more she denies an emotion connection because it’s just bad business on her end.

pwyc! bucky:

Hi I loved your Pretty when you cry series read it twice already and you did a amazing job 🥰 I was wondering if you could write the reader from that series being catcalled by some creep and dark biker Bucky witnesses it and completely losing it and defending her and maybe it ends with some fluff I hope you have a lovely day or night ❤️

OK maybe After Reading your Dark Soulmate Story I want/need more 😁 So I was thinking about Bucky and the Curvy Reader. Was there ever a time when Bucky Breaks down and cry? Like, He is so Hurt that he is Not Angry but gets really sad? How would the Reader react? How would Bucky himself react? Thanks again For creating These two and thank you For your time🖤 i Love them.

Hi Bella! So you’re my fav tumblr writer and I’m never gonna get over pwyc cause it’s pretty fucking amazing, and I don’t know if you’re taking requests for drabbles or anything like that, but I thought I might as well ask! So imagine that Bucky and Y/N have been living together for a while and things have been great, but Bucky is thinking of proposing, but Y/N is so not ready to get married or have kids, and her and Bucky get into a huge fight over it, and maybe she briefly moves out, and Bucky is basically lost but like also super angry cause we all know he doesn’t take rejection too well, but in the end they make up and by that I mean smut, and you can decide if they get engaged or not, but yeah that’s basically it

Hi! I love pwyc so much then when i saw the new trust series was from you I did a little happy dance! I was wondering if i could request a little drabble of what would happen if reader found out she was pregant and how biker Bucky would react? If not no pressure honestly love all your fics thanks for sharing them with us!

Belllllllaaaaa I have a request to make for pwyc series💕❤️ Imagine bucky getting possessive and jealous of readers coworkers, the reader trying to escape when he thought they were finally getting somewhere in their relationship…..😬😬 would he be angry or upset just love feral bucky 🫣😭🥵

Pwyc reader having nightmare about that night Bucky raped her. While dark!pwyc Bucky is sleeping right next to her. So reader started crying in her sleep,tears and all (cause that's what she does best) from the nightmare with him in it and woke Bucky up. Bucky can tell what it was about and started to soothe her nightmares the only way his perverted ass knows how. He started nuzzling and kissing her neck all over and kiss all her all over her face including her lips,eyes and her tears away while his hands roam all over her body to wake her up. Reader woke up still crying and Bucky ended up giving her the most gentlest (?),angsty or passionate sex? Idk,it doesn't have to be gentle. Just like really angsty and passionate in a really pwyc dark!Bucky way to show reader he's her only choice no matter what so she just gonna learn how to love him and get over her fear and nigthmare with the fear and nightmare himself. And maybe some angsty stomach flipping aftercare afterwards. Dark! request ofc. This can be during pwyc or after pywc,it's up to you. Reader being a crybaby makes this fic special to me :,D Been looking for a pic like this. Thank you so much and sorry if my English sucks a lil. I try. Tysm again 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Hiii Bella!! I love your writing so much, you're very talented 😍 I found the pwyc series about three days ago and I've read it twice 😅 I wasn't that productive at work ig 🤣 as a curvy girl myself who falls very close into the description of the reader/soulmate who loves Bucky, I felt very satisfied. So... I'm rubbish at requests but I thought I would like to ask for something and it's nice that you're kind and understanding so I don't feel too anxious about doing so 👀 so... what about reader going out shopping a dress for an occasion (idk what exactly, something formal-ish ig... a birthday party/dinner maybe?) and the shop assistants make her feel bad by saying things like "we don't have clothes in that big of a size, miss" or "this doesn't suit your fat thighs/stomach" (this has happened a lot to me, unfortunately)? And she gets home sad and spends all week self-loathing and insecure, wearing very baggy clothes and starving herself and pwyc bucky doesn't exactly get what's going on because she doesn't want to discuss it but he feels how down she feels and worries. Then he hears her explaining the experience to eva and he becomes a man on a mission. He has one thing in mind; to shower her with compliments, sweet nothings and have beautiful, passionate and rough sex with her 😏 (and also decides to punch whoever said sh*t about his girl). Thank youuu 💜💜 P.S. Sorry if this was too long☺️

hiii so i just thought of pwyc fluff (bc i love two hopeless romantics) so uhhh what if reader gives bucky a pet name? calls him "love" in front of his friends and bucky just melts and swoons

I just want pwyc reader and bucky to have kids 🫣😬😂 it would be so unexpected and I’m sure bucky would be super excited even if the news comes out of the blue 🥺🥺💕💕 it would be so funny though 😂😂

Just finished your dark soulmate Bucky fic-absolutely loved it, stayed up WAY too late reading it because I couldn’t stop. I was wondering if kids are ever discussed between them? I feel like no for both of them because Bucky seems too greedy to share the reader/lose time with her and I don’t know if the reader would really want babies with him after their start, even if she’s forgiven him. But I do wonder what would happen to Bucky’s mindset-does having a daughter make him realize any new aspects of what he did? Does a son make him worry about raising a man who could do what Bucky did to his own soulmate?

I have a pwyc prompt! Reader borrows Bucky’s beloved car as hers is in his shop. He tells her to be careful as it’s his baby. She misjudges a turn and wrecks it, only gets minor cuts/bruises but goes hospital to get checked out in case concussion. She doesn’t want to see bucky - freaking out about seeing him and admitting she crashed his baby but of course his main worries lie with someone else’s welfare!

what if reader wasn't bucky's soulmate but he wants her anyway. (long request)

Sorry in advance if this is too indulgent even for fanfic, but would you be interested in a prompt where pwyc Bucky is thrilled that the reader is gaining weight? Either because he takes it as a sign that she’s happy so she eating more, they’re going out on fun dates and have delicious things to eat or they’re spending too much time together for her to work out, etc etc. but he’s super into it. And loves to show it, especially during moments when she’s upset about it? So it’s something positive instead of negative.

Hi Bella. Love your work and love that you write curvy/plus size reader as I’m a curvier girl myself. I was wondering if you could write a Drabble/fic with pwyc bucky worshipping/praising reader’s bigger body - maybe she’s having a bad self image day or similar and he kisses all of her curves and lumps/bumps because he genuinely adores her figure and also is very much turned on by her even if she sometimes worries his muscular frame would be better suited to smaller partners as he’s so in shape.

This but she hurts herself bad?🤔🥺

“You come across any other kinks you wanna try, you just let me know. You know I’ll do anything for you, pretty girl.” Hmm how about breeding kink combined with marking kink. I believe the possessive side of Bucky here would absolutely eat this up and be feral. Would love to see your take on this, but if you don’t want, that’s okay! Thank youuu! 🫶🏻

Hi Bella! I have an idea for a PWYC Drabble please don’t feel obligated to respond or make it. So today I was walking and some total jerks yelled out the window calling me fat. I wonder how Bucky would either comfort reader or handle it. I know you have something similar with your knight drabble. Thank you for all of the incredible work you’ve given us, this is my favorite series of all time— you’re a great writer. ♥️🥹

Hi! I’m a huge fan of PWYC and I was wondering if you thought about doing a pregnancy one shot, or multiple shots related to Bucky and reader starting a family? I’m curious how the dynamic would be considering how Bucky already acts towards reader and how he tends to be very loving but also on consistent watch over reader. If you don’t like the idea or aren’t interested that’s totally okay too!

steve rogers:

I would love to see a stalker Steve Rogers who thinks he’s “courting” you when he buys you presents off your (private) wishlists, takes care of chores around the house when you’re sleeping or away, has lunch delivered to your workplace for you, etc. (sure it’s scary and weird all these things are happening to you, but I would also like to come home to packages on my porch and my lawn mowed, you know?)

[hellomissmabel]

The Duchess I/III

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader ; Steve x reader

Warnings: A man hitting a woman on her cheek during a heated argument.

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: The Duchess of Manhattan likes her men regal. Y/N Stark grew up loving the king, but when the tables turn and the lovers are torn apart, she aims her arrows at the second in line for the throne.

THIS IS A MINI SERIES SO NO TAGGING SORRY X

Series masterlist can be found here

A/N: Written for my bae @caplansteverogers

The royal palace has always been a place of mixed feelings. When you were younger and your father was still very much in love with his second wife, your mother, you could roam the palace at all hours of day and not a soul would blink an eye. You’d play in the royal garden with your bow and arrow in an attempt to impress young prince Bucky. Then you’d race each other to the pond where you’d find young master Steve feeding the ducks, the bastard son of King George. The three of you would stay at the water until nightfall and the palace guards came looking for the prince.

But once you reached the desirable age of 16, the king of New York took note of your exceptional beauty, a beauty all men wished to possess but none could claim except the prince, for Bucky captured your heart a long time ago. Nevertheless, before the prince was even born, his father King George made an arrangement with the richest Duchess of all, Natalia of Queens, to unify their strengths with a marriage between prince Bucky and her daughter Natasha.

So when king George realised Bucky would never look at any other women ever again as long as you were in his life, he promised your father all the richness and all the land his heart desired if he sent you away from the palace and to your aunt. Your father, the duke of Manhattan Tony Stark, was now the Duke of Manhattan and Staten Island, where your aunt and uncle resided. The offer of the king was too good to turn down and thus young Y/N joined her aunt Wanda where she lived with her brother Count Pietro, both unmarried.

You remained with your aunt Wanda and uncle Pietro for several years, forging relationships stronger than the ties of blood. You met a young farmer, Clint Barton, and his wife Sarah along with their two kids. It was Clint that taught young Wanda and Pietro all they needed to know to uphold their county after their parents died an untimely death. It is thanks to Clint that young Count Pietro managed to keep his father’s people thriving and strengthened the community.

It was also Clint that comforted you when the letter came the day before Christmas, demanding your return to court as a lady in waiting to the new queen. King George had been involved in a so-called hunting accident and unfortunately laid down his life the next morning. The coronation of the new king, king James, was to coincide with the announcement of the engagement of King James to Duchess Natasha Romanova of Queens. The letter had been signed by king James and delivered by his half-brother Steve Rogers, the Duke of Brooklyn, who per request of the king was to personally escort you back to court.

“My old friend,” you great the blond with a gratuitous smile. Steve has definitely aged with grace and he looked quite valiant in his grey suit with gold cufflinks.

Steve presses a chaste kiss to your cheek as a greeting. “It’s been too long, Y/N. I’m sorry to hear about your father’s passing… Duchess Stark.”

“Oh please,” you wave away the title as if it means nothing, “Don’t call me Duchess Stark. Duchess will do just fine for formal events. But in private, you can always call me Y/N… Steve.” Getting into the car with him, you inquire about the situation at the household of the Duke and Duchess of The Bronx. “I’ve heard many rumours but I doubt they are true.”

“After the Duke’s death, Duchess Carter and her daughter Sharon have found refuge at court. As long as they are at court, they’re under the protection of King James. But if they wish to return to the Bronx, the people will have their head within the hour. The fate of the Bronx now rests with the king but my guess is that that’s exactly why he called you back to court.”

This spikes your interest and you easily betray your curiosity by exposing your expression to any signs of confusion and excitement. “The Bronx is Manhattan’s neighbour and it’s my belief he wishes to make you Duchess of Manhattan, Staten Island and the Bronx, as you have always been loved by the people all over New York.”

Pursing your lips, you reply rather sourly. “I have my father to thank for that. A lousy family man but always good to the people, throwing luscious balls for both the elite and the commoners. Everyone was welcome, always.”

Resting a hand on your knee, Steve leans in to whisper something in your ear, mindful of the driver as he too is employed by the king. “He also means to take you on as his mistress.”

“I see,” you answer dryly, clearly not amused by Steve’s revelation. “He can’t have Queens and Manhattan, not even for sake of tradition.”

It is a well-known secret that the eve of the announcement of an engagement, the king also announces his mistress. He or she is then brought to his chambers after the official ceremony, where they will consummate their silent agreement. Yet the king’s mistress is also the king’s favourite and usually granted with either title, land, money, or other precious goods. Yet you already have a title and more land than you wish, money doesn’t fancy you either so there’s nothing that he could offer to persuade you.

Once you arrive at court, you are rushed to your quarters where you are left to your own devices, preparing for the occasion. There is however an impressive collection of gowns waiting for you in the dressing room, all hand-picked by Bucky or so Steve tells you. Eventually your eyes fall on a soft red-pink ballgown with roses stitched on the skirt of the dress.

The Duke of Brooklyn awaits your arrival at the end of the hallway to escort you to the grand hall where the festivities are taking place. His eyes are glued to your dress, scanning you from head to toe as he checks out your bosom as well.

“You do know something is missing right?,” he queries playfully, stepping behind you and asking you to lift up your hair to he can put on the necklace he purchased for you. Or rather, the necklace King James purchased for you, a ruby diamond embroidered in gold.

Offering his arm to you, his joyous expression soon turns serious again. “Don’t speak to the Duchess Natasha,” he warns immediately, a threatening undertone cutting like a knife into your skin. “With the Bronx, you will possess far more land than her, and if Bucky means to marry us off to each other… The only thing Natasha’s power will rely on is her money, and the kingdom needs money or Bucky wouldn’t be marrying her.”

Turning towards your friend right before the doors to the ballroom, you whisper under your breath in a sharp timbre. “I am not marrying you, Steve. I will only marry for love, nothing less.”

Your eyes soften when the lights falling on Steve’s face reveals his shattered hopes. Cupping his cheek you watch how he leans into your touch regardless of your rejection and you realise that no matter what, the Duke of Brooklyn will love you forever, just like you will love Bucky forever.

The king is sitting on his throne, with his future queen next to him. The crown weighs heavy on his head, even though the coronation and announcement of his engagement ran as smoothly as he had expected. But there’s a thorn in his eye, a gilded rose dancing in his line of vision. Duchess Y/N Stark, now the Duchess of both Manhattan as the Bronx by his command, is waltzing away on the melodious tunes of the orchestra.

Getting up and strutting toward the centre of the room where she is laughing at something funny Steve’s just whispered in her ear, all guests make way for the king as I wave at the orchestra to keep playing. They don’t seem to mind the interruption, Y/N’s eyes as innocent as those of a doe but with a heart of a stallion, Steve’s broad posture as warm and welcoming as ever. They truly are a match made in heaven, I might convince myself.

Once I lace my arm around Steve’s shoulder, after the initial curtesy and politeness, I grin widely at my eldest friends. “I am so glad you could make it.” My voice is somewhat sincere, breaking a little under the pressure of keeping a straight face around the love of my life. “I am so glad I found you together as well since I have good news for both of you.”

“She already knows, Bucky,” Steve interrupts me before I can tell her I’ve decided to make the biggest mistake of my life and arrange her wedding to Steve without her permission. “And she said no.”

Am I infuriated by her insubordination? No. Am I pleased she isn’t following my orders and kissing my ass like all those other fuckers? Yes. But does that mean she’s off the hook. Absolutely not. “Y/N, a word, please,” I sneer while gripping her upper arm tightly, ghosting through the masses as casually as possible. But the guests are too busy enjoying the luxury and splendour of the palace to notice what’s going on behind the scenes.

Instantly taking her to my private living room, I press my lips to hers ardently yet violently as my anger and longing consume me completely. The clock strikes midnight on Christmas morning when she gingerly gives in and kisses back.

“I didn’t know kissing people at midnight on Christmas morning was a thing…,” she chuckles softly when she pulls away, chest heaving slightly.

Sliding my lips down her neck and onto her throat, she moans with a little giggle once my lips close around her pulse point. “It is now.”

“Are you trying to change my mind about marrying Steve?” Pushing my chest very gently, she tries to create some distance between us. “Because I won’t. I should be your queen, Bucky, not Natasha.”

With a deep, shuddering exhale I make it clear to her that I will not take no for an answer. Batting my hands away when I try to pull her to my chest, my hand lashes out and strikes her across the cheek. I have never hit a women nor would I ever do so, or so I thought. But Y/N inspires the demon inside me and I am beyond myself when I can’t have her and can’t have my way with her.

Clutching her cheek in the palm of her hand, she takes long strides away from me, her face contorted in pain and surprise, disbelief but mostly betrayal. Then the mask covers her true emotions as if turning the page of a book, her face cold. “Your wish is my command,” she replies with a monotone voice. “Goodbye, King James.”

I let her slip away without another word, my heart falling into its grave.

Finding Steve isn’t hard when you’ve grown up inside these walls. By the river, where the ducks still reside, I find him kneeling and trying to lure a mother with her baby ducks with some pieces of bread he stole from the banquet.

“Steve…,” you call out his name but instead of walking over to you, he beckons you to come to him instead and try gaining the trust of the ducklings yourself. Because you have a heart for animals, of course you agree and soon your dress is stained by the fresh, green grass.

The fluffy ducklings shuffle closer and closer until one eventually takes the bait and the others follow naturally. They are so cute and cuddly you can’t help but shelter one in the palm of your hand and pet the adorable little creature before giving it back to the mother.

“What did Bucky say?,” Steve inquires gingerly, his eyes cast downwards in anxious anticipation.

Clearing your throat, you stand in front of the blond with your head held high and a straight back. Even though the decision falls hard on you, there’s no way you can take back the words you said to Bucky. You have torn him from your life and thrown the pages into the fire. And vengeance is a peculiar beasty, much like ambition and blind adoration.

“Steve,” I mumble to his lips, our breaths mingling in the freezing air of night. “Tell me… How much would you like to be king?”

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[louisianaspell]

I know today is Bucky’s birthday, but I’ve been thinking about this au like a lot lately

You’re the help (can’t decide between nanny/governess or lady’s maid) in the household of Duke & Duchess Rogers.

Steve & Peggy have your typical arranged marriage fic setup, they get along enough to have a couple kids but absolutely no love between them.

Steve has had a number of affairs during their marriage, Peggy doesn’t care as long as he’s discreet about it. He spends most of his time in the city with his mistress (this ties to into another fic about Steve x kept mistress!reader)

Spending most of your time together, you and Peggy soon develop feelings for each other

[awesomerextyphoon]

Don’t Tell Me

This is for @cockslut-padalecki​’s Not My Ninth Challenge. My prompt was Stucky x Reader with Royal Au and No Doubt’s Don’t Speak for the lyrics.

Summary: You loved them with all your heart, but now you must wed another.

Pairing: Stucky x Black Female Reader, Brock Rumlow x Black Female Reader

Word Count: 1,893

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Warning: Angst, Implied Smut, Threesome, Mild Depictions of Violence, and Forced Marriage

A/N: This might be my saddest fic yet. I hope this isn’t too much of a downer for you, @cockslut-padalecki​. Happy Birthday and Congratulations on 9K followers!

Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​

Back to Masterlist

“Rise and shine, Your Highness! Today’s the big day!” Sabine, your closest handmaiden, announced.

You covered your head with your pillow in irritation, “I don’t want to!”

Sabine sighed, “You have to get up or the guards will come and force you out of bed.”

With an annoyed huff, you got up and stretched, “Let’s get this over with, Sabine.”

You had been dreading this day for weeks. Today was the day you were to wed Brock Rumlow, ruler of the Triskelion Empire. You didn’t want to marry him. He was boorish, cruel, and violent.

But most of all, you didn’t want to marry Brock because your heart belonged to Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes.

  It started when you were six years old. You were sent to Brooklynd to be King Joseph’s ward as part of a peace initiative (you later found out it was because of a failed coup and your mother wanted you safe).

King Joseph, Queen Sarah, and the court loved you. Only Prince Steven and his best friend, James Barnes Duke of Shelby, gave you the cold shoulder.

It sucked because they were the only ones near your age. You tried to win them over with baked goods from your homeland, trinkets and toys Queen Sarah said that Steven would love, and some of your favorite books. Nothing worked until you had enough and confronted them.

Steven was about to enter the stables with James when you caught them. You just wanted to ask why they were avoiding you, but as your mother warned you got violent and socked James with a left hook. It got to the point that the guards had to split up the three of you.

Queen Sarah had an unusual and embarrassing punishment: the three of you had to sit in a circle and hold hands for one hour under the stern eye of the governess and the queen herself. The air was thick with tension until the governess farted. You tried your hardest not to laugh, but you help yourself. Soon Steven and James joined in the merriment.

You were best friends ever since.

 “What do you want for your bath, Your Highness?”

“May I have the Rose, Hibiscus, Black Pepper, Lemongrass oils for the bath, and the Amla/Coconut Oil mixture for my hair, please. Thank you, Ngozi.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

Once the oils were applied to the bath, you sunk in sighing from the nearly scalding water; its warmth giving you a peace of mind that has been denied to you for weeks.

You wondered how it got to this, then you frowned at the bitter memories symbolized by the single piece of jewelry under your pillow.

  The three of you became thick as thieves. Always helping each other in defending one another whether it be fighting off Steve’s bullies with Bucky or telling the snobby rich girls to stuff it whenever they said you weren’t feminine enough.

Joke’s on them because you passed all of your etiquette classes with flying colors.

Though something happened when you turned thirteen; you started seeing your best friends in a new light. You noticed how Bucky’s shoulders were broadening, Steven’s full bottom lip, the dazzling blues in their eyes, or how their laughs.

Sabine, your closest handmaiden, and friend, confirmed it; you were falling in love with them.

You were scared at first; you didn’t want to ruin your friendship with them. So you started avoiding them by spending time with Duchess Natalia and Marchioness Monica as they were the only female peers you could stand.

You would sneak glances at them when you thought they weren’t looking, but they were.

It went on like that for a year until Bucky had enough and confessed to liking you. You were relieved that he returned your affections, but was taken aback when Steven grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him in for a kiss. Turns out they’ve been a secret item for six months.

They both loved you and wanted to make it work.

And it did, for a time. You spent a great deal of time together. Though they were a few close calls since your mother instructed Queen Sarah not to let you court anyone and Steven and Bucky couldn’t go public just yet.

It didn’t matter; you just wanted to be near them. The three of you would sneak kisses by moonlight, write secret love letters, all the fun, and mushy stuff. Your relationship reached a new level when Steve and Bucky presented you with a vibranium and dragon’s gold alloy promise ring with ruby rose and emerald leaves. The three of you vowed to be together forever.

It was pure bliss; you didn’t want it to end.

  “Life had other plans, huh?” you muttered to yourself as your handmaidens were making the final body preparations before you got into your gown.

  Your mother, Queen Ketandu, had written to you and Queen Sarah requesting that you return to Abia in order to complete your studies and take on royal duties. You cried in Bucky’s arms for hours before he had to return to his quarters the morning before your departure.

It wasn’t long before puberty hit you like an airship going at full speed (late bloomer). You became famed for your beauty with scores of suitors, but you rejected them all. Only Bucky and Steve would have your hand.

One of the suitors, Brock Rumlow of Triskelion took it especially hard. He vowed he would have your hand, but your cousin, Samuel Wilson, said to pay him no mind.

You were only able to communicate with Steve and Bucky via phone or letters. It took you four years to return to Brooklynd, but it was not a joyous occasion. King Joseph had passed and Steven was to be crowned king within the fortnight.

Both of them had changed so much, especially Steve; he was nearly unrecognizable. He towered over nearly everyone (only Bucky, Thor, Loki, and M’Baku were taller), broad shoulders, rich tawny pink skin, and a face that could make nearly all the women (and some men) swoon.

He looked like the kings of old, even more so than his father.

Bucky wasn’t slacking either with the way many of the courtiers were ogling him; admiring him for his rugged, yet prim presence.

They were Rulers of Paradise and you were to be their queen.

The three of you finally made love that night. It was your first time, so they decided to be gentle and showered you with kisses and affection. Steve and Bucky worshipped your body as if it was the last thing they would enjoy before the afterlife.

It was as though you were dreaming.

  “Here’s your wedding gown, Your Highness.” Zara, another handmaiden, exclaimed.

“Thank you, Zara.” You tried your best to not let the tears fall. This day was never supposed to happen.

Why did your dream have to die like this?!

  The first crack in your fantasy came with the news of your older brother’s assassination and the outbreak of a civil war. Your sister-in-law begged you to come home.

Your airship was to leave first thing in the morning.

You raced to inform your lovers of your departure. One of the servants said that they saw Steve in his mother’s rose garden. Thinking it was Steve being shy and needing some rest, you ventured into the garden only for fantasy and your heart shatter completely.

In the rose garden under the central archway was Steve on one knee proposing to Margaret ‘Peggy’ Carter with Bucky looking on with a smile and the full moon behind them.

Everything froze at that moment.

Why?! Why did they do this?! Were your feelings a joke to them? Did they ever love you?

Unable to hold back your despair, you shrieked at the ideal romantic scene before you.

Steve tried to explain the situation and Bucky almost caught you, but you ran away before you could hear them.

You left for Abia that night.

  “Now ladies,” Lady Bente, the wedding planner bellowed, “remember, this is Emperor Rumlow’s big day. There’s no room for failure.” She didn’t need to say what would happen if you tried anything ‘funny’.

“I know. How can I forget the threats?” grumbled as Sabine put the final touches on your wedding outfit: an off-the-shoulder A-Line Tulle Wedding Dress, a Hand-crafted white gold Baroque tiara inlaid with pale sapphires, diamonds, and pearls, and matching earring and necklace.

Looking in the mirror, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. The dress accentuated your curves and the jewels made your face glow. You were a vision.

Too bad it was for a man who wouldn’t hesitate to destroy everything you hold dear.

  Barely six months after you returned from Brooklynd, Abia conquered by the Triskelion Empire. Their ambassador informed the council that the empire will let Abia continue as a client state if you married their emperor, Brock Rumlow.

If not, Triskelion would raze Abia to the ground and take her citizens as slaves.

The council implored you as Triskelion forces had Sam captive and Abia’s army was running out of supplies.

With a heavy and broken heart, you accepted Rumlow’s terms.

The wedding was to be in a month.

  You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, “Too bad Rumlow isn’t getting a virgin.”

“Goodbye, Your Highness.” Sabine whispered, “Now, don’t you start crying after all the work I put into ya!”

“I know it’s just not fair. I have to lose you, too?” Rumlow made it clear that you were to leave your old world behind, including your closest friend and confidant.

Sabine pulled you in for a hug, “I know it’s not. It’s been a pleasure and delight being your handmaiden and friend.”

“Alright, everyone! Line up! The wedding is about to begin!” Lady Bente ordered.

You gave your friend one last glance before the doors shut behind you, “Goodbye Sabine.”

  The cathedral was spectacular.

Bouquets of roses and elven tulips adorned the pillars. The banners of Abian and Triskelion colors were delicately placed creating an ethereal atmosphere.

Rumlow really outdid himself.

Dignitaries from far and wide were in attendance. You saw your mother, uncle, Sam, and your sister holding her ten-month-old son.

Rumlow took your hand with a triumphant smirk. You could say that he was handsome if you didn’t want to claw his eyes out.

“You look ravishing, darling.”

“I hate you.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Dearly beloved and exalted rulers, we are gathered here today to join the Triskelion Emperor and the Second Princess of Abia in holy matrimony.”

You closed your eyes in resignation. No one was coming. Maybe Brock wouldn’t be so bad.

“If anyone has any reason as to why these two should not be married.”

Then you remembered how he threatened your mother and uncle when after Abia surrendered. His twisted smirk was enough to make your blood boil.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The cathedral was silent for a few minutes until the doors were blown off their hinges and several guards were flung to the opposite wall behind the altar.

Everyone turned to find smoke and debris. An inhuman roar filled the venue terrifying the guests.

Two figures emerged from the smoke and your eyes widened in shock.

“We do.”

[nastybuckybarnes]

A Broken Fairytale  -  Four

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Reader AU

Summary: Sold by your mother, you work as a servant for the King and Queen of Acadia. The Prince, much to his initial dismay, takes a liking to you. When a wicked woman intervenes, your life is nothing more than a prison sentence. With a war on the horizon and a betrothal to a missing Princess that he can’t escape, Bucky is forced to be the Prince -and King- that his father wants. A pawn in a bigger game than the two of you realize.

Warnings: Angst, Language (Maybe), Fluff (Squint for it)

Word Count: 5K

A/N: Now we’re getting somewhere. Plz enjoy dis

SERIES MASTERLIST MASTERLIST UNEDITED CAUSE IM A SILLY GOOSE

~*~

“Rumour has it you’re going to the ball tomorrow night in a new fancy dress, as Prince Steve’s personal guest.” You find yourself smiling as you polish the marble floors. May stands a few feet away, cleaning the large stained-glass windows.

“He insisted. Taught me to dance too.” She laughs softly. “Mary showed me the gown. It's beautiful. I can hardly wait to see what it looks like on you.” You giggle, “she hasn’t let me allowed me near it. I can only imagine what it looks like. I’ve been dreaming about it for days.” You sigh wistfully. “You didn’t hear it from me, but Prince Steve has gotten you some jewelry and lip rouge as well. Oh, you’ll so beautiful. I just hope you and Wanda don’t get too comfortable out there with all those dukes and duchesses and princesses and princes.”

You turn to her with a soft smile, “never.”

~

“Goodness, Steven. Your skills are... incredible. Truly. This is really just... utterly exquisite,” Queen Winifred whispers. Steve chuckles nervously and scratches the nape of his neck. “Well... I’ve recently found some inspiration.” He flips to the first sketch of you and his aunt and mother both gasp.

“That’s... (Y/n). The new one. Such a beauty,” Sara whispers while admiring the detailed sketch. Steve’s managed to catch every perfection. “She’ll be my guest tomorrow night. After all the hardships she’s been forced to endure in her life, a night of the finer things is the least I can offer her. She deserves it.”

Sara smiles at her son, “do you fancy her?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “No mother. Although she’s beautiful and smart with a kind heart and a good spirit, I fancy a different dame.”

Queen Winifred laughs gently while Sara ponders something.

“What is it, mother?” She looks up then sighs. “It’s foolish, but... the princess of Corona was taken as a baby nearly nineteen years ago. (Y/n), who is quite possibly from Corona, is almost nineteen. She was adopted as an infant by a wicked and cruel woman who might even be the type to kidnap a child in order to get her way. Perhaps?” Steve’s eyes widen at his mother’s suggestion.

“You think... you think (Y/n) is the lost Princess of Corona?” Queen Winifred thinks about this for a moment. “It is a possibility, but why then would Lady Griffon willingly give her to us? That seems counter-productive. If her goal is to stop the marriage.”

“Well, she sold (Y/n) as a servant girl, giving the impression that she isn’t who she truly is?” Sara purses her lips at her son's suggestion then nods. “I don’t think we should rule out her being the lost princess. Her locket is made out of silver which is quite common amongst the wealthy and royal in Corona. And it seems to be enchanted, which isn’t uncommon in our neighbouring kingdom,” Steve says.

“I want you to find out every little thing you can about her. And this shall stay between the three of us. No one else is to hear a breath about our theories. If (Y/n) is indeed the Princess, then I fear she may be in danger even here,” the Queen says sternly.

As the other two are nodding the door to Steve’s study gets pushed open.

“There you are, Steve. Mother, Aunt Sara.” Bucky bows quickly to the two women.

“My, what have we here?” The young prince looks at the sketch, his eyebrows raising. “This is (Y/n), correct?” Steve nods. “Your skills have certainly improved, punk,” Bucky teases while looking at the other drawings of you. “You fancy her, don’t you?” Steve simply rolls his eyes. “She provided inspiration. Innocence and beauty all encompassed in one.” Bucky nods, deep in thought.8

“Well, I suppose we’ll take our leave now,” Winifred says before walking out of the room with Sara right behind her.

“These are actually magnificent, Steve. Unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Would... can...” He groans as his cousin laughs at his flustered state.

“What? Would you like one? Or two perhaps? Maybe the entire sketchbook? I thought appreciating her beauty would do no one any good or whatever stupid excuse you spewed.” Bucky punches his shoulder.

“Quit being a punk. I just want one.” Steve smirks but carefully pulls out one of the finer sketches of you and hands it to his cousin. “It’s all yours. Do with it what you’d like, just don’t tell me what you’re doing.” Bucky punches him again and Steve snickers to himself.

The brunet holds the paper with a gentle hand, admiring the way you look in the picture. Beauty and innocence, just as Steve said.

~

“Okay... almost finished... just one last finishing flower...” Mary trails off and you twiddle your thumbs nervously as Wanda continues covering your eyes while Mary pulls on the gown clinging to your figure. “Okay, I’m gonna put your mask on and a tad bit of lip rouge. Then you’ll be ready.” You fight a smile as Wanda lifts her hands, only for a smooth cool fabric to take their place.

“Oh, you look like an Angel right out of heaven! Now, a teeny tiny bit of lip rouge, not too much because we don’t want to take away from the entire ensemble. Pucker your lips a tad, darling.” You do as she asks and jump slightly as you feel something waxy on your lips.

“Alright dear. You can look now.” You snap your eyes open and spin around in your new flats.

Your jaw drops as you see yourself in the mirror.

The gown is incredible. With a dark blue-grey chest, a navy blue bow cinching your waist and making you look curvier. The skirt is made of a lovely pink fabric, covered in a navy chiffon-type fabric. It has small fabric flowers and gems decorating it, but not too many. The mask is the same pink as the gown, however, it has gold trim and some embellishments in the same colour, as well as a little bow and some lace.

You look... stunning. Like royalty.

“Wow. You look beautiful.” You look to the voice and smile. “Thank you, Pietro. You look quite handsome.” He chuckles then walks to his sister, who looks absolutely gorgeous in a floor-length, figure-hugging red velvet dress. Her mask matches her dress and her hair is flowing down her back.

“Steve asked me to escort you to the ball. He’ll meet you there for a dance.” You smile lightly. “So you’ll be escorting not one beautiful woman but two to the Queen's masquerade ball? Will you dance with us both?” Wanda teases. Her outfit matches her brothers and you can’t help but smile at that.

“I do plan on dancing with both of you at some point tonight, however, I think Steve craves the first dance with you, (Y/n).” You smile timidly and Wanda giggles, “does he fancy her, do you think?” You shake your head furiously, “Steve and I are just friends. Nothing more.” Wanda smirks deviously at you.

“You don’t fancy Steve... what about Prince James? Do you fancy him? You have been looking at him quite often ever since he ran into in the library. When the two of you talked for quite some time.” You shake your head again, “I hardly know him, Wanda. How could I possibly fancy someone I know nothing about?” She shrugs, a sly smile still plastered on her face.

“Then why are you fiddling so much? And why do you always fiddle when he comes up in conversation?” She motions to where your fingers are playing with a bead on your dress. “You like his royal stiffness? Pain-in-the-ass Prince James? Bitchy Bucky?” You glare at the twins. “No. I don’t. And even if I did, it wouldn’t be your concern and it wouldn’t matter anyway. He's royalty, and I’m not.” Pietro gingerly links his arm through yours.

“You could be a Princess. There’s something... regal and royal about you. You should be wearing a crown, not scrubbing the floors.” You smile gently up at him. “I should be here with Wanda and May. If I were born royal then I might not have met you or any of my friends. I like who I am.” He smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Now, we should be going. I can hear music and laughter already,” Wanda says while taking her brother’s other arm. Pietro escorts the two of you to the ball, smiling as he meets up with Sam, Nat, and Clint.

“I see you’ve already taken (Y/n) for yourself,” Sam says, looking you up and down. “You look like royalty. You’ll make visiting Princesses jealous.” You laugh softly, “thank you, Sam.” He smiles and offers you his arm.

After a glance to Pietro, an eye roll and a nod given, you let go of his arm and take Sam’s.

“Steve’ll be arriving shortly, along with Bucky, the King, the Queen, and Lady Sara,” Sam informs as you reach the ballroom doors. You nod, your jaw almost dropping as you enter the ballroom.

It’s filled with people -men and women- dressed to the nines in clothes that cost more than you’ll make in your entire lifetime.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” Nat asks while coming up beside you in a light green dress with a mask to match. “It’s... intimidating if I’m being honest.” Natasha rests a hand on your shoulder.

“You look like you belong here. Even if you feel like you don’t, you look like you do, so act like it. No one will know anything that’s true or not.” You smile at her words and take a big breath in. Squaring your shoulders you raise your head and walk with Sam into the room.

The people you pass stop their conversations and stare at you as Sam leads you to the centre of the room right across from a large staircase.

Conversations hardly have time to grow before a horn sounds loudly, gathering everyone’s attention.

“May I present Lady Sara, Her Majesty Queen Winifred, and his Majesty King George.” The royal family walks down the stairs as graceful as swans with their chins held up high and smiles on their faces.

“Wow. (Y/n) you look... incredible.” You smile shyly up at the man speaking, having recognized his voice. “Thank you, your highness.” Sam snickers while Steve rolls his eyes.

“Now, I must steal you from Sam. May I?” Sam places your hand in Steves and you find yourself giggling as Steve walks you deeper into the room.

“Mary absolutely outdid herself,” Steve says while admiring your gown and mask. “She did. You look rather dashing yourself.” His cheeks flush and he looks down while chuckling.

He’s wearing a well-tailored grey suit and a matching mask. The suit hugs his body perfectly and the mask brings out the vibrant blue in his eyes. And of course, there’s a lovely silver crown sitting atop his blond hair.

He smiles at you then takes a small half-step away from you as the band starts playing again.

“(Y/n), may I be the first of many men to ask tonight, if I may have the honour of this dance?” You beam up at him.”Of course, Steve.” He takes your hand in his and places his other hand on your waist. You bring your free hand up to his shoulder and start dancing with him.

People around you mumble and whisper. as Steve dances you around the floor.

“They’re wondering who you are. They know who I am, but no one knows the Princess I’m dancing with,” he whispers, the cool fabric of his mask brushing against your cheek. You look down, away from the curious and envious eyes of the upper-class men and women.

“They’re making me quite nervous,” you reply softly, grinning as he chuckles.

“Well, I doubt any of them know who you are. So what they think doesn’t matter anyway.” You nod, trying to let his words ease your nerves.

The song comes to a close and Steve sighs.

“Excuse me,” a smooth voice says, “but may I?”

You look up at the man and smile awkwardly as he takes Steve’s place. A new song starts and you dance with him, feeling exceptionally nervous.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met you,” he says after a moment, his brown eyes warm and filled with wonder. “You haven’t. This is the first ball I’ve ever attended.”  He spins you then nods. “You’re stunning. Have you any suitors? Husbands?” You shake your head no. “None at all.” He smiles, “what a shame for them. I’d like-” a hand is on his shoulder, stopping him from dancing with you.

“May I cut in?” That voice makes butterflies swarm in your stomach. “Of course, your highness.” The man disappears and Prince James takes his place, one of his hands fitting perfectly in yours while the other rests comfortably on the curve of your waist.

He starts leading you in a dance, keeping your body close to his.

“You look ravishing,” he whispers, his thumb rubbing on your hip. “Why thank you, your majesty.” He smiles, his hand slowly moving around your waist.

“Do you have a name?” You grin as you realize he doesn’t know who you are, a wave of confidence washing over you.

“I do have a name.” He chuckles and pulls you closer to his warm body. “May I be so bold as to ask what it is?” You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying - and failing- to contain your smile. “Maybe. But do you deserve to know?” You’re honestly not sure where this much confidence comes from, but you’re liking it more than you want to admit.

“I think I do. But let’s say, for argument's sake, that I don’t deserve to know. What could I do to change that?” You slowly look up, your eyes lingering on his pink lips before moving up to his stormy orbs.

“I suppose I’ll have to think about that,” you whisper. His eyes flash down to your lips and you can’t help but lick them/ His fingers flex on your waist and you smile, watching as his eyes meet yours again. “Please do.”

The two of you dance in silence for a few minutes before he chuckles. “What?” You ask, smiling slightly, “do I amuse you?” He shakes his head and sighs heavily.

“You’ve bewitched me. Your voice... your beauty... like nothing I’ve ever experienced in all of my years. Have you and suitors?”

You swear your jaw drops.

“Forgive me, Prince James, but are you not betrothed? To the Princess of Corona?” He shakes his head and looks deep into your eyes. “I do not wish to marry someone who I know nothing about.” You find yourself giggling softly.

“And what do you know about me?” He looks down, seemingly shy. “I know that you’re like no woman I’ve ever met before. I know that I know nothing about you when I’d really just like to know everything. I know that not a day will pass where I don’t think of you. You’ll be in my every dream ‘till the day I die.”

You can’t seem to find any words.

“I’ll ask my father and yours if I can court you. If you’d give me the opportunity, of course.” You’re shocked, to put it lightly. “I-I can’t. You’re betrothed. I couldn’t interfere with that. I’m sorry, Prince James, but I cannot.”

You break away from him and hurry out of the ballroom, desperate to breathe. You remove your mask and lean against the wall, trying desperately to catch your breath.

“You weren’t sold to go to balls and celebrations as a guest,” an all-too-familiar voice says. You straighten up and look at the woman.

“Step-mother,” you begin, “I was invited. By Prince Steve-” a slap to the face cuts you off and you gasp, tears pricking your eyes. “You won’t speak of the Princes! You are filth!” She raises her hand to strike you again and you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for the pain.

When it never comes, you open your eyes.

Steve’s holding your step-mothers wrist and another woman is rushing over to your side, giving little thought to her expensive gown as she slides down to the floor beside you.

“Guards!” Steve calls, “escort Lady Griffon and her daughters out of here. Don’t make a scene about it either.” You watch as the woman who raised you gets escorted out of the palace that has recently become your home.

“Are you alright, child?” The woman beside you asks, her voice gentle and soft. “Yes, I-I believe I am. Thank you.” She smiles and lightly places her hand on your shoulder. “(Y/n) I’m so sorry,” Steve says. You wave off his apology and take a deep breath, trying to calm down.

“Queen Valerie, thank you for letting me know. (Y/n), this is Queen Valerie of Corona. Queen Valerie, this is (Y/n). A very close friend of mine.” You look at the woman beside you and scramble to your feet, only to bow before her. “Y-your Highness.” She shakes her head and stands up, “no need for that. You’re sure you’re alright?” You nod your head yes then clear your throat.

“I... I’m going to retire to my chambers. Thank you for inviting me, Steve. Queen Valerie, I hope you enjoy the rest of the night.” They nod and watch as you hurry up a flight of stairs.

“Where’s she from?” Queen Valerie asks while Steve’s escorting her back to the ballroom.

“We’re not sure. She was adopted by Lady Griffon as a baby. She has a locket that seems to be enchanted from Corona so we do believe she may be from there. How she ended up here, I know not. Perhaps you have an idea?” The Queen on his arm clutches her necklace tightly.

“I mustn’t let myself hope,” she whispers softly, letting go of Steve’s arm and heading back to find her husband, leaving the young prince confused out of his wits.

~

“Mother, Father, I need your help!” Bucky exclaims, walking to where his parents are seated. “What is it, my son?” Winifred asks concern lacing her voice.

“A dame, beautiful as a sunrise. I want to court her. She’s...” He trails off while looking around, trying to find you.

“My son, you know you are to be marred. There’s no way you could court her. What is her name?” Bucky stares at the door where he saw you last.

“I don’t know. But mother, her voice was that of an angel. Her eyes sparkled brighter than diamonds. Her smile... I have no words to describe her beauty.”

Winifred sighs and takes her sons hand. “If everything fails with Corona, then you may court the girl. Is she a Duchess? Or perhaps a Princess?” Bucky sighs and shrugs his shoulders.

“She was dancing with the Duke of Winchester,” King George chimes in, looking around the room.

“I’ll ask him!” Bucky practically runs through the crowd.

“You shouldn't give him hope, George. He’s betrothed. You know he’s meant to marry the Princess of Corona,” Winifred scolds. “Let the boy have his fun. He knows his responsibilities. And if we go to war with Corona, he’ll have this Duchess or Princess or whoever she is. You’ll get a grandchild or two and James will get a strong heir to the throne.” The Queen sighs at her husband and watches as her son talks to the Duke.

“I found her dancing with Prince Steve. A beautiful one, she is. I plan to court her, as soon as I figure out who her father is.” Bucky clenches his hands into fists and smiles tightly at the Duke before setting off to find his cousin.

“Steve! Who were you dancing with?” The blond looks up, slightly startled. “Who?” Bucky groans at his cousin’s response. “She was wearing pink. Her eyes, they’re beautiful and (e/c). She was... a dream.”

Steve raises his eyebrows and chuckles. “You mean (Y/n)?” Bucky freezes, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. “(Y/)? Like... servant girl (Y/n)?” Steve nods slowly and Bucky curses. “Why? Is something wrong?” Bucky pulls Steve into the hallway and looks around to make sure they’re alone, then he rips his mask off and tosses it aside.

“She’s. stunning. Beautiful and witty. I asked if I could court her. But she’s not of noble blood. Fuck. What do I do?” Steve pats his cousin's shoulder.

“Talk to her. You don’t need to formally court her. Does your mother know that you fancy her?” He asks. “Yes, but she reminded me of my betrothal when I spoke of her.” Steve snickers despite his cousin’s glare.

“Winifred knew that was (Y/n). I had her help me design the dress.” Bucky chuckles at this, his anger momentarily forgotten. “Of course she did. She enjoys seeing me in pain.” Steve sighs and looks towards the staircase where you disappeared to. “Lady Griffon was here. She got mad and struck (Y/n). I had the vile woman escorted out and (Y/n) went to her chambers. You should go check on her.” Bucky looks at his cousin as if he’d grown a second head.

“Lady Griffon Struck (Y/n)?” Steve nods, “go see if she’s alright.” I’ll cover for you.” Bucky nods before he can think too hard about it. His feet bring him through the Palace and up the stairs until he’s outside of your room.

He knocks twice then slowly pushes the door open, looking around the room for you. Humming from the bathroom gets his attention and he realizes you must be bathing.

Just as he’s about to turn and leave, you walk out of the bathroom. Bucky’s frozen, staring at you and you’re frozen, staring at him.

You're wrapped in a thin towel, water dripping down your skin and pooling at your feet.

“Your Highness. W-what are you doing in here?” He doesn’t answer, too busy staring at your body. You shift nervously and his eyes snap up to yours. “Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”

You swallow hard and hold the towel tighter around your body.

“I… I didn’t want to ruin the fantasy.”

He walks towards you and you back up, gasping as your back hits the wall.

“You’re a fantasy? A dream? No, you’re much more than that.” He cages you against the wall between his strong arms and stares in your eyes.

“W-what do you mean? What do you want from me?” He closes his eyes for a moment before cracking a half-smile. “I told you,” he whispers, “I want to court you.” You cast your eyes down, shaking your head at him.

“I met Queen Valerie. You’re betrothed to her daughter. I don’t want to interfere,” you breathe.

He carefully lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Tell me you feel nothing. Tell me you don’t want me the way I want you. Tell me that honestly and I’ll leave you be.” You shake your head and close your eyes tightly.

“I’d be lying.”

Those three words are all it takes for his control to shatter.

His hands grip your waist through the towel, holding you tightly as he presses his chest against yours. You pull in a shaky breath, your palms hesitantly resting on his shoulders.

“May I touch you?” You nod breathlessly, gasping as he tugs the towel down a tad. His right-hand cups your cheek while his left ventures beneath the towel, finding your damp skin.

“Someone could come in,” you whisper, head tilting back and eyes staying closed as his lips ghost over your neck.

“Let them,” he murmurs, gently nipping your neck as his left-hand curls around your back under your towel.

You shiver, arching up into him at the foreign feeling of his warm skin on your own. “James.” Your voice is a soft whisper and the Prince grins, his right hand leaving your cheek to pull your towel down a bit more.

“I want you, (Y/n).” You whimper softly, your fingers raking through his soft brown hair. “You’re all I want. Screw my betrothal.” The mention of his betrothal brings you back to reality and you push him off of you.

“This… this isn’t right,” you whisper while pulling the towel tighter around your body.

“Yes. This is right. This is so so right.” He leans down and kisses your lips almost roughly.

“James. James stop,” you mumble against his lips.

He doesn’t stop.

“Stop! Get off of me!” You exclaim, shoving him off of you as hard as you can.

“(Y/n) I-“ “Get out. Get out!”

He looks shocked and reaches out for you.

“Get out now.”

You move under his arm and across the room, eyes staying focused on the Prince.

“(Y/n) please. Just let me-“ “No! You’re to be married and I’m of poor blood! Please, just leave.” Your hands start to tremble as anxiety floods your body.

The Prince turns and leaves without another word, his heart aching and his stomach churning.

~

TAGS:

FOREVER:

@smolbeanbucky  @wildefire @inumorph  @impalatobakerstreet  @nanna022  @mummy-woves-you  @m-a-t-91  @wtfholland  @bookgirlunicorn  @beautifulwisdom2001  @deep-sea-glitter  @mrhiddles-81  @iamwarrenspeace  @bitchacho25 @escapetheshackles  @i-know-i-can @buckyssoul @avnngrs @swoonhui @destiel-artemis @frozenhuntress67

MARVEL:

@fallenangelfangirl @look-to-the-stars-and-wish @maladaptive-ninja-returns @cliffordasparagus @april-14-blog @potteritis @momc95 @shakzer00

BUCKY:

@chuuulip @nerd-without-a-cause @natashasnight @dragonrosegardens

A BROKEN FAIRYTALE:

@starkxpotts @barnesandnoble13 @paranoiadestroyah @theonelittleone @the-loud-and-crazy-rabbit-pirate @derekxsammy @nerd-without-a-cause @coal000 @lilypalmer1987 @consumedbyfanfics @tanelle83 @fultimefangirl @apollolikescello @buckysthing @emilysallysmith @krystallynx @unscriptedtimetraveler @buckyinantarctica @the-surviving-revolutionist @seafrost-fangirl @londonalozzy @roxytheimmortal @strawberryblogg @rosariia25 @godsofimmortality @bookgirlunicorn @ign-is @afterglowamsy @doublephoeenix @littledeadrottinghood @jsmith509 @alexaduke @m00nlightdelights @denimandcabernet @crystalchrysalis19

[the-stories-in-my-head-95]

The Lady of the House- Final Part

Tony Stark x Reader

Steve Rogers x Reader (Past)

Summary- Captain Steven Rogers, golden boy of the army, how could you not fall in love with him? The romance is passionate and it doesn’t take long for you to fall into the Captains bed. It should have been a fairy tale ending, right? Not so much. Steven leaves you pregnant to chase after a friend that everyone had written off as dead. You think your life is over until Duke Anthony Stark finds you crying in the royal garden.

Message- This is the final part!!!!! 

Warnings- Reader is abandoned when she is pregnant, mentions of women dying in child birth

Part One  Part Two  Part Three Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine

Word Count- 884

The past six months have been better than you could have ever predicted. Steve has become a beloved Uncle to not only Maria, but also to your other three children as well. Things had been going great, you were all one big happy family, until about a month ago, Tony started pulling away, from not only you, but also your children.

“I have to go to the village today, Wife.” Tony says, walking into the room.

“Give me a moment and I will accompany you.” You say, pushing yourself off of the daybed.

“That is not necessary.” Tony says, folding his arms over his chest.

“Tony, please.” You whisper. “We’ve barley spoken this past month. I-I have something to tell you.”

“I already know.” Tony sneers.

“I doubt you do.” You say, calmly. “Because if you did you would not be pulling away as you have been this past month.”

“I will be spending the night at the tavern.” Tony says, before turning to leave. You sigh and lie back a bit.

“Where is Papa going?” Maria asks as she walks towards you.

“He has business in the village.” You say as Maria climbs onto your lap.

“Will he be home to tell us a story tonight?” Maria asks.

“I don’t think so.” You sigh.

“Oh.” Maria murmurs, slouching in disappointment.

“Let’s go see what Uncle Steve is doing.” You say.

“Okay.” Maria sighs, jumping down from your lap. You take your daughters hand and lead her out into the hall.

“Have you seen Captain Rogers?” You ask one of the passing servants.

“He is outside in the gardens with the other children, My Lady.”

“Thank you.” You say, before changing directions. It takes several minutes to make your way through the manor. But once you are outside the two of you make your way towards the gardens.

“Uncle Steve!” Maria yells, then she lets go of your hand and runs towards Steve, who picks her up and tosses her up in the air a bit.

“Have you come to help us play with Dummy?” Steve asks, putting your daughter down.

“Uh-huh!” Maria says, nodding her head. Then she runs over to where the twins were being chased by Dummy.

“My Lady.” A servant says as she hands you Victoria.

“Thank you.” You say, kissing your toddlers forehead. “I will be going into the village today and I do not know when I will be returning. So please make sure the children eat supper and go to bed in a timely manner if I have not returned by then.”

“Of course, My Lady.” The servant says, before walking away to assist one of the children.

“Is something wrong?” Steve asks as he walks over to you.

“I am going to see Tony in the village.”

“Is something the matter?” Steve asks, eyebrows furrowing in worry.

“He’s been pulling away this last month.” You murmur.

“If this is because of my presents here, I will leave.” Steve says.

“Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think it will come to that.”

“What do you need from me?” Steve asks.

“What the children?” You ask.

“Of course.” Steve says.

****

After saying your goodbyes to your children and getting a horse ready, you head off towards the village. A place you had never been alone.

“Duchess Stark?”

“Doctor Banner!” You say, stopping your horse. “It is so good to see you!”

“Is all well, Duchess Stark?” Dr. Banner asks.

“All is well, I am merely looking for my husband.”

“I believe he is at the tavern. I can lead you there if you wish.”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” You say, smiling. It takes another 10 minutes for you to make your way to the Tavern. Once you arrive, you dismount your horse.

“I will take your horse to the village stable.” Dr. Banner says.

“You have my thanks, Doctor Banner.” You say, before making your way inside. You immediately spot your husband, sitting alone in the corner.

“Y/N?” He asks, as your eyes meet. “Are you-are the children okay?” He asks, asks as he stand up and makes his way towards you.

“The children are safe, Tony.” You say, putting your hand on his cheek. “But I am not.”

“What is the matter?” Tony says, ushering you over to his table, he helps you sit down before sitting himself.

“My heart is breaking.” You say, clutching your chest.

“You wish to be with Steve.” Tony says, pulling away from you. “I will not stop you, just please let me see the children every once and a while.”

“Tony, no!” You cry. “I-I told you remember? I love you, you are my everything, the love of my life, the father of my children.”

“It’s just these past six months-.”

“Steve is a friend- just that.” You say. “I do not love him like that anymore.”

“It’s just you’ve been trying to tell me something a-and I assumed-.”

“I am with child, Tony- your child.” You say.

“Another baby?” Tony asks, smiling.

“Yes.” You say, nodding. “Now will you stop this foolishness?”

“I am sorry.” Tony murmurs, kissing you.

“Let’s go home.” You say.

“Home to our family.” Tony says.

“Our perfect, wonderful family.” You say, smiling.

                                       And they lived happily ever after                                                          The end

@ellysiacat @jenniegs @thedoctorscamanion @loveisfriendship @mymourningtea @cassiopeia-barrow @marvels-ghost  @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99   @loverbug1123 @pleasantdreamqueen @pbandj14 @itsintothegreatbeyondstuff @princessleah129 @courtneychicken @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @that-one-book-girl @yipthegoddess @brooke-supernatural16 @ailynalonso15 @thefangirlliveson @conspiracy-teen  @thegoddessofvampire @the-butterfly21 @theshortegg @witchseer25607 @bee-wrecker @precious-cinnamon-roll666 @destiel-artemis @jackles-jadalecki @thisismysecrethappyplace @marvelismylifffe  @kanupps06 @okayputta @geeksareunique @mummy-woves-you @crazy-little-thing-called-buck  @writing-red  @leticiakael  @marvelismylifffe @tabziecat @ravenclaw-fangirl-7 @huntermichelle @learisa @cutie1365 @msmaximoff @kitkatgaming @writings-and-stuff @xxashy999xx @sebba-hiddles @slashheartlover @scarlettsoldier @ladysergeantbarnes @i-just-wanna-run-hell @tonystarkismyboy @bestillmystuckyheart @musedhufflepuff@dontevenblink-badwolf-tardis @iamwarrenspeace  @supernatural-strangerthings-1980 @petitesmate  @gracielou0518  @babyteacup @vxidnik​ @alinsvoices​ @vesta-ro​ @stranger-chan @zoetrope1997​ @unicornsrule233​ @teaand-cookies​ @lookwhatyoumademequeue​ @givemefreedomorgivemefries​ @debgreenleaf​ @marvelouspottering​ @laneygthememequeen​ @jade-cheshire3303​ @125bluemachine125​ @njavezan​ @mychemicalimagines​ @the-lachrymose-one​ @otaku-dess​  @scarletts-future-wife​ @the-force-of-imagines​ @thenamesdoublek​ @moli1497​ @loverofromance​ @crazy-fangirl25​ @marvelownsmylife​ @leave-dont-disappear​ @kilamanjiro​

[arawynn]

Fairy tales are told by time - Part 2

Bucky X Reader Fairy tale / Royal AU

Summary: You are the unloved adoptive stepdaughter of Lady Hela Redhorn, Countess of Essex. As a slave in your own home, your life is miserable. But one encounter in the forest and a royal ball give you the chance to escape the misery. Will you get your fairy tale ending? Or is it doomed to fail?

Warnings: mention of domestic violence, swearing

A/N: This is supposed to act in England during an undefined medieval era.

Ranks of high nobility (descending): Duke/Duchess, Marquess/Marchioness, Earl/Countess, Viscount/Viscountess

“You…you are the Prince. Prince James.”, you said with numb lips.

Your mind raced. Treating a member of the royal family with such disrespect like you had – no matter how unintentionally – could get you in serious trouble. Very serious trouble. Including exile or even death penalty in worst case.

“Well done, Steve. Really well done. Finally somebody who treats me like a person instead of a title and you have to ruin it!”, the Prince Royal growled sour. “I’m here to protect you. It took me half an hour to convince His Majesty to send me alone with you instead of two dozen soldiers.”, the blond answered unfazed.

“Y-your Highness…I didn’t…I beg your pardon.”, you stammered. Strictly speaking, you were supposed to curtsey in front of the Prince. Or any member of nobility at that matter. But you were unable to move. He gave you a bleak smile. “Don’t apologize. It was nice not to be treated like the Prince Royal for a change. But I’d be very grateful to you if you could keep this private. At least my name.”, he said softly.

This time, you managed to curtsey. “Steve, we return to the palace. Now.”, he added noticeable firmer. The blond bowed slightly. They left without saying another word; leaving the already chopped wood and even the axe behind. You got the handcart and filled it with the already uneven logs of wood before starting to chop more.

All the time Prince Barnes was constantly in your mind. On the one hand, you couldn’t believe how fucking dense you had been not to recognize him as who he actually was. In your defence you could say that nobody would expect the Prince Royal to be somewhere in a forest – without dozens of guardsmen. On the other hand, you were floored how down to earth, kind and normal he had been.

You returned to the estate in the early afternoon – at least one hour earlier than you would have usually. Phil – the head of the staff who had become your second father after the Earl himself had died – seemed to wait for you. “Lady Hela wants to see you urgently.”, he broke the matter to you.

You raised an eyebrow. As much as the landlady loved to bully you and push you around, she hated your presence. Your stepmother only bore with you if necessary. Calling for you urgently happened once in a blue moon. “Why? We both know she hates me.”, you answered.

“A royal herald was here, right after noon. Five days from today, there’ll be a royal ball. Every young noblewoman and daughter of noblemen who is neither engaged nor promised to somebody is expected to attend. There are rumours that His Royal Highness The Prince will choose a bride among the young dames.”, Phil answered, calm as ever.

That was the fly in the ointment. Lady Hela had always been out for finding a good catch for her children, especially her only daughter Wanda. The perspective of her daughter on the throne of England was her dreams coming true. And it had to send her in a frenzy at the same time. You already knew that the days until the royal ball would be a nightmare, for you and every servant of Lady Hela.

It got even worse than what you had expected. Your stepmother wanted new dresses for herself and Wanda, along with a new suit for her son Pietro. Sewed from the finest fabrics. Decorated with intricate embroidery and jewels. Lady Hela wanted her dress to be green, Wanda’s was crimson and Pietro’s suit ice-blue. The colours they wore most and which sat well on them. You were the only one allowed to make the clothes. When it came to this kind of work, you were the only one the Lady of Essex trusted to meet her expectations.

Fortunately the other servants silently took over your other duties so you could focus on making the clothes. But you still barely managed to get them finished on time. Even though the last stitches happened literally minutes before their departure. You watched the departure of their carriage with tears in your eyes. “Why didn’t you accompany them, Y/N?”, Phil asked gently. “I wasn’t allowed to.”, you answered. Tears were sliding down your cheeks.

“She has no right to do that. The King’s order was crystal clear – every young noblewoman or daughter of a nobleman who is neither engaged nor promised to somebody. You are by adoption the daughter of an Earl. You are neither engaged nor promised to somebody. Your presence is expected.”, the older man answered, visibly upset.

“Even if Lady Hela allowed to attend the ball…I don’t have a suitable dress. I can’t appear at a royal ball in rags.”, you answered. A little smile appeared on the face of the Head of the Household. “Well, then it’s a good thing that Maria trusted her intuition when Lady Hela came here for the first time. She took and hid some of your mother’s belongings. Dresses, jewellery, linen…not enough that Her Ladyship would notice it, but nonetheless enough to give you a small dowry. Just give me a few minutes.”, he told you.

You sat down in the kitchen while you waited for Phil. The fact that he and Maria had been thinking about your future and taken care of it so deliberately amazed you. The deep love of this gesture warmed your whole body and brought you to new tears at the same time.

You had calmed down again when Phil returned. He carried the most wonderful dress you had ever seen. The fabric in your favourite colour was soft and light at the same time. The ornaments were beautiful, but didn’t make it ostentatious. You had never seen anything like this. It was simply perfect for a royal ball. “Put it on. You’ll look fabulous.”, Phil said gently.

When you returned in the dress and matching shoes, the thrill of anticipation had already subsided again. “I still can’t go to the ball. Her Ladyship will recognize me as soon as I enter the ballroom.”, you said miserable. But the Head of the Household held something up. A beautiful mask exactly in the same colour as your dress. A warm smile appeared on your face. “Of course you cover all the bases.”, you said and carefully took the mask.

“Not all the bases, sadly. I couldn’t get you a carriage.”, the older man answered with a sad smile. You laughed and hugged him. “I don’t care if I get a carriage or only a horse. This is a wonderful present you gave me.”, you mumbled. For a few seconds, Phil returned the hug before letting go. “Go now. You’re already late.”, he said softly.

Tags: @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @learisa @feelmyroarrrr @marvel-royal-aus

[artficlly]

the horselords of naraik [chapter two]

A quiet civil war has raged across the kingdom of Garwic for nearly three decades. The cruelty of the Duke of Garwic knows no end, bringing death and misery with each raid upon the lower-class. The horselords of naraik have fought to protect those suffering under the Duke's violence. The reader being the daughter of the duke is captured and held for ransom, only things are not as they seem. The reader can only hope that the horselords recognise her as a victim rather than a villain before it is too late. Fantasy AU

Pairing: horselord!bucky x duchess!witch!reader

Warnings: huge selfharm warning, self mutilation, suicidal thoughts, starvation (in a SH context), violence, blood, wounds, death, swearing, yelling, angst, tension, mention of sickness, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: going to start working on the last 1/2 chapters of this fic now that i've cleaned up the ending of the third chapter. this chapter is particularly triggering in regard to sh/depression topics so please read at your own risk. not proof read - sorry for any typos

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon as you began your work. The day previous you had concocted a herbal remedy for Aunt May’s cough – Peter collecting fresh herbs from the outskirts of camp and the group of healers who traveled with the horde. It would take many weeks to heal the cough fully, the herbs would only ease the symptoms enough to allow her body time to strengthen. 

You had pressed the fresh leaves and flowers with a rock, hurriedly pouring the juices into a bowl to be given to May to drink. As much as you poured good intention into the herbs, you knew they would only scratch the surface of her sickness. No matter how many concoctions you made, the herbs would not help until the fever broke. 

Peter had done as you asked, retrieving a length of rope from camp and a heavy rock from the river bed. May had slept with the rope laid across her chest and abdomen, the twine and fibers capturing the fever that ravaged her body. Peter had been nervous when he had delivered the rope, cautious of touching the fibers in case he caught the fever trapped inside. 

He was familiar with witchcraft, the both of you had watched your mother and her friends at work many times all those years ago. The horselords equally would have witnessed magic before, but not so openly. Steve – who had come to guard you once more – eyed the process suspiciously. A portion of the camp had heard of Peter’s desperate efforts, although none had moved to stop you from your tasks. Despite their hatred for your status as duchess, the horselords still thought you were a witch. They would not deny you had power since part of your blood came from Idamir, rather they worried that your intentions were to cause harm over good. If Bucky had caught wind of your performance he hadn’t said a word, the two of you riding in silence the day before. 

Now sat at the base of a tree, once again tied up your back flush against the rough bark, you performed the magic which had grown to be desired and despised. A small crowd had gathered as you worked, watching as you weaved the length of rope into three large knots larger than the size of your palm. The knots were complicated, multiple layers of strands overlapping each other into an intricate design. 

Once the knots were sufficiently layered and tightened, you wove the remaining rope around the river rock. The knots would need an anchor, so you ensured the knots were tight and would remain steady in place. 

“You must throw it into the Khurak River. The spot must be fast flowing, not stagnant.” You instruct as you grit your teeth, fingers straining as you tighten the final knot in place. “The knots trap the fever within, the water will soothe and cleanse the fever until it is no more.”

“Why not burn it?” Peter asks, a nervous look in his eyes as you hand him the rope. The small crowd hums in agreement, leaning and looking over each other's shoulders to catch a glimpse at the knotted rope. 

“The knots trap the fever within, if you burn it the knots will release. The fever will be set free, it will take hold of May again or maybe another.” You explain, giving the anxious looking Peter a curt nod. “The fever will break overnight.” 

Steve disperses the crowd with a grunt, reminding them that they had a camp to tear down yet. Luckily, the horde had been following the Khurak River south, so Peter would have plenty of opportunities throughout the day to dispose of the knots. You lean back against the tree trunk once more, bark digging into your back as you sigh. Behind you the river lazily flows, the sounds of birds ringing out through the trees. 

“Will the fever truly be broken by tomorrow?” Steve asks. You crack open a single eye, squinting at him. He stands by the remainders of his usual fire, wood smoldering as it reaches its end. 

“Do you have no faith in my abilities?” You joke, tilting your head at the man. He grunts in annoyance once again, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you with little amusement. 

“I do. I just have never seen such methods. Our healers usually just give the sick yarrow and willow bark and pray for the best.” 

“I am surprised you never adopted Idamiran witches into the horde, like you did Peter.” You reply, opening your eyes fully. You have to lean your head back to look at him, he towers over you normally but even more so when you are sitting. 

“Most of them are dead.” He responds bluntly, any sense of amusement falls from your face. He wasn’t wrong, so many had died over the decades of raids. The nobles despised not only the lower class, but magic users. Even if the southerners were the ones to farm the food and craft the goods, the nobles made the taxes higher until protests rang out across the land. The king of Garwic watched it all happen and never lifted a finger to stop the slaughter, instead it seemed he encouraged it. The king had always been whispered to be mad, fuelled by a bloodlust and cruelty that rivaled even the duke. Down south his name was whispered in fear, even his brothers who were kings in neighboring kingdoms did not dare challenge his reign. 

“I suppose we have my father to blame for that.” You manage to utter. You don’t dare close your eyes, you know the faces of the dead will paint the blackness and consume you whole. 

Steve’s expression is unreliable, a tense silence consuming the both of you before he speaks. “Why didn’t he kill you?” 

Your mouth remains closed, limbs suddenly feeling numb. You rip your gaze away from his, instead staring out into the camp watching as tents are torn down for travel. Your jaw clenches as you can hear the cracking, screaming, the hot pain arcing up your spine. So many faces, all forever imprinted into your mind. Would they have held on? Would they have given up? Why had you held on for so long, why had you held on for hope of a savior? You had been doomed since your birth, your mother decided to tempt fate regardless. Your fingers itch for the athame, a haunted look glazing your eyes. 

“I don’t know.” You say, voice shaky. You wonder if Steve knows it is a lie. 

xxx

A few days later Bucky had permitted you a bath. You were unsure if it was out of pity or because he was sick of riding with you constantly covered in mud and bark. May’s fever had broken as you predicted, Peter bringing you the good news immediately. You continued making the medicine from herbs each morning for May, she was still weak but had a fighting chance with your help. Even Nat had reluctantly accepted the new routine, wordlessly watching with a scowl as you ground the juices from the leaves and flowers. 

Nat and a few of the women were to escort you to a slow flowing section of the Khurak River – it was common for women in the south to bathe together. You had spent time assessing each woman as you had walked, wondering if there was a chance to overpower the small group and run. Run to where? You did not know. You knew it was a foolish plan. Your eyes rested on one of the women you had heard much about due to her unfortunate circumstances. She had traveled north with her husband and the rest of the raiding party, only for him to be killed during an encounter with the Grawic Guard along the way. Not only was she left a widow, but she was left heavily pregnant. You imagined it was frightening for her, the prospect of bringing a child into the world alone. At least she had the other women of the horde to help and guide her. 

You examined Wanda now, belly swollen and fatigue in her eyes. The healers predicted she would be due any day now. From the glimpses you had caught, you knew the healers were nervous. The midwife that had meant to travel with Wanda had died during the same raid her husband had – using her last breaths to protect Wanda from Grawic steel. 

“What will you call him?” You ask the auburn, watching as she unlaces the front of her dress. Her slender fingers pause their movements, eyes darting to meet yours. 

“How do you know it will be a boy?” Wanda asks, behind you Nat makes an irritated noise. 

“I just do.” You reply with a soft smile, Nat marches over so she is in your vision. She gives you a warning look, placing herself near Wanda in a protective manner. You had noticed the redhead had a soft spot for Wanda. 

“I wouldn’t trust anything this witch says.” Nat hisses, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“It is fine, Nat. She meant no harm.” Wanda defends you, waving her hands dismissively at the redhead. “What else do you see?”

“Wanda.” Nat warns, placing herself between the two of you. You bite your tongue, fingers finding the lacing on the front of your dress. 

“She helped May, I am sure talking won’t hurt.” The auburn huffed, stepping around Nat as she looked at you. “Go on, tell me. What else do you see?”

You are slow to reply, sighing through your nose as you unlace your dress. The other women have already entered the water – oblivious to the conversation unfolding. Nat is rigid in place, jaw muscles tense as she stares at you. You know it isn’t because she’s afraid of you throwing enchantments, rather not wanting to scare Wanda with the news of a painful birth. 

“He will be born during a storm, a doncayo, it means where lightning has struck.” You speak slowly, lifting your eyes to stare hard at her swollen belly. You tilt your head as you listen to everything and nothing at all, hair raising across your arms. “In Idamir it is a good omen to have a doncayo babe. It means the boy will be a great blacksmith, strong enough to bend steel with his bare hands. Since he is a Naraik babe, he will be a strong warrior.” 

“You know birth well then?” Wanda asks, a warm smile having spread across her face. You note how her palm rests on her belly, stroking the swell absentmindedly. Beside her, Nat has visibly relaxed but still casts you an irritated look. 

“Not really. My mother did, she helped when the midwives could do no more.” You explain, watching as Nat scoffs. 

“Your mother… the whore.” She comments under her breath, earning a scowl from Wanda. You bite your tongue with a shake of your head. You turn your back on the two women, pulling the last of the lacing free so your dress hangs loosely from your shoulders. You watch the women in the water, a tense silence growing between the three of you.

“How do you know when a witch is born? They say they don’t know if an Idamiran babe is a witch until they are born.” Wanda asks and you pause. You cast a look over your shoulder, eyebrows knitted as you take in Wanda’s curious expression. 

“The wind goes still.” You start, turning your body to face her. “All the birds go silent, like when they know a predator is near. Even the river stops running, the tide of the sea frozen. The land grows quiet as if in mourning.”

“Why?” Wanda asks, voice barely above a whisper. You swallow hard, pushing your hair over your shoulders. It tangles messily, covering your back fully as you allow your dress to pool at your waist, chest exposed. 

“I do not know, it is just the way of things.” You reply. Nat’s eyes have widened as if she is horrified. Wanda’s mouth parted in shock. They are staring directly at your chest, at the spot between your breasts. There lies the sigil you had carved into your flesh, raised white scars curved across your smooth skin. The scar starts as a point on your sternum, parting as it separates into three different points like a diamond - two points under each breast while the final continues down to your stomach. The tips curl into different patterns of swirling lines, but at the center of the diamond lies an eye shape which stares unblinking. You don’t flinch under their gaze, don’t even bother to react as you allow your ruined dress to pool at your feet. 

“That sigil, where did you find it?” Nat asks, stepping closer. You step backwards in return, a confused expression gracing your features. A sense of urgency has taken over Nat’s demeanor, walking closer as if she is afraid you will disappear into the aether at any moment. 

“Find?” You question with a quizzical look, backing away further until you are knee-deep in the river water. Wanda looks between the two of you with a look of disbelief. “I designed it.”

The two women are rigid, Nat frozen in place only moving to look back at Wanda. Wanda’s previous inviting behavior melting into something more uneasy, a disturbed sensation crawls across your skin. One of the nearby women noticed the strained interaction, watching with a questioning stare. 

“Get dressed and go get Bucky.” Nat snaps at her. The woman doesn’t question the command, instead rushing to get dressed while the rest of the women follow suit. Despite the sense of dread sinking into your bones, you submerge yourself into the water before Nat can bark a command at you too. 

xxx

The bath had been what you expected, quick and heavily monitored. Wanda and Nat muttered between each other, worry clear in their faces. You tried to keep yourself impartial, now allowing the anxious confusion to gnaw at your stomach. The two women had provided you with some replacement clothing, your old dress ruined from days of travel. You were secretly happy for it, much preferring the loose linen and cotton clothing of the Naraik. It was similar to what you wore in Idamir - a simple green linen skirt that reached mid-shin, a section of lacing at the top used to adjust the fabric to frame your hips. It had been paired with a white shirt with a string lacing front and long sleeves. 

By the time Bucky arrived you were half dressed, having only just slipped the shirt on to cover your back and arms. You had pulled your hair over your shoulders, covering your breasts with the long damp strands as Bucky marched over to Nat and Wanda. He barely cast a look in your direction at first, instead muttering away with the two women. 

Steve stood nearby, eyes fixed on you with a hard swallow and you began lacing the shirt from the bottom up. You look up to meet his eye, dragging the strand of cord through the eyelet with a forceful jerk of your arm. He clears his throat, eyes diverting as you smile wickedly at him. 

Bucky has his sword in hand once more, you swear it is like an extension of his own arm. He prowls towards you, pointing the sharpened tip at the sigil. You cease your movements, watching as he cocks his head to one side. 

“So you are a witch then?” He asks, voice rough and low as always. You hadn’t shared words in days, hearing the gravelly tone sent a near shiver down your spine. 

“You never asked.” You reply bluntly, watching as speechless thoughts tick away in his mind. His eyes are firmly planted on the sigil, a look of conflict crossing his rugged features. 

“First the spells for May, and now this. I suppose this means the rumors about your mother are true.” Bucky drawls, you narrow your eyes at him. Steve seems to shift awkwardly in place, glancing at Nat who gives him a long look. You know better than to snap back at Bucky, instead opting to pull the fabric of the shirt closer together. The linen covers the swell of your breasts better than the damp strands of hair. You begin pulling the cord through the eyelets once more, briskly lacing the two pieces of fabric together. 

“What? You are not going to deny that your mother is a whore, Duchess?” Bucky jeers, poking the tip of his sword over the pupil of the sigil, forcing you to pause your lacing. You look up at him, eyes flashing in warning. You nearly consider baring your teeth like a wild dog, raising your hackles and tearing his throat out in a fit of rage. 

“The dead can defend themselves, they will strike you down if you taunt them so.” You spit back at him, swatting the blade away with the back of your hand to continue lacing. Bucky chuckles darkly, pressing the blade in further so it rests against your skin. You catch the sharpened edge in one hand, fist closing around the steel. 

“That sigil, what does it mean? Where does it come from?” He asks, continuing to provoke you. He pushes the blade further into your hand. You do not give in, even as blood begins to seep from the growing wound. Pain shoots down your forearm, skin slippery against the steel. 

“It is from nowhere. Sigils are uniquely crafted to suit the spells need. This one was for protection.” You grind out, eyes narrowed. 

“Protection…” Bucky drawls with a scoff. “And how is that going for you?”

The blade digs harder, blood dripping onto the muddy riverbank. You do not yield, you have endured more pain than a simple cut. The pain you had endured was ancient, centuries of women before you that had been tormented by men and life alike. In that moment you felt them all, the pain you all shared, the pain that radiated from every scar that lined your body. Your eyes remained fixed on Bucky, locked in a silent conversation. In your mind's eye you could see shadows of a memory, voices overlapping each other as the events grew more muffled and distant. You dig deeper, staring harder into his eyes as the blood runs slick down your arm. The voices become screaming, each trying to drown each other out. The world feels silent, only the roaring of battle and the scent of smoke consuming both of your senses. His memories are jumbled and frantic, swallowing you whole. 

The sound of a whip cracking jolts Bucky from the trance, a haunted look overcoming him. His eyebrows knit together, his arm locked in place as he tries to pull the sword from your grip. You hold on steady, watching as he begins to squirm. Memories, thoughts, long forgotten whispers… they swirl around and consume you. You could release the blade, release him from the spell but you can't help yourself. You cannot stop yourself from wanting to punish him, you want to make him understand. As you read deeper into the corners of his mind, he can equally see yours, a mirror of pain and torment. Much like you, he wouldn’t be able to see anything specific, he would only be able to feel your pain, your emotions or hear the way that you screamed. You could not present him with a full reenactment of your memories, nor could he play his to you, but you could share every way that you had both suffered through sensation. Somewhere in the distance you can hear the muffled shouting of Nat, blurred shapes in the corners of your vision. 

Everything snaps back into place as Wanda suddenly slaps your hands away from the blade. You release the steel with a hiss, hand throbbing as blood pools in your palm. Wanda stares between you and Bucky in shock, the blade now laying in the mud at your feet. You expect Bucky to strike you, to bare his teeth and attack with words. Instead he stands like a stone, watching you with a conflicted expression. 

“What the fuck was that?” Nat barks, Steve holding her back by one arm as you examine the cut across your palm. It was deep, you would need to stitch it together and apply a poultice to prevent infection. 

“An enchantment to corrupt my mind, like her mother did the duke.” Bucky speaks up finally, although his words sound hesitant and conflicted. Even if the spell was broken you could still feel the wisps of his emotions ghosting your mind, confusion and sympathy swirling around a void of rage. You clench your fist, teeth grinding together as the wound comes to life with shooting pain.

“No.” You gasp out. “I was showing you the past. My situation isn’t as simple as you wish it to be, don’t you understand?.” You explain, but Bucky only shakes his head with a sneer. Whatever sympathy or pity he was feeling didn’t show on his body or face, any softness replaced with his usual underlying anger. 

“You have the blood of a madman and the magic of a wicked whore.” He hissed at you, any sense of confliction gone as his eyebrows pulled together in rage, lip curled into a snarl. 

Anyone else may have backed down at the sight, an enraged Naraki Horselord was one to be feared. Such anger would be whispered of during bedtime stories, warnings to never cross the warriors of the southern plains. A sense of frustration grew in your gut, an exhaustion of having to defend your position. You had shown him the past, shown him how your suffering was one in the same. You had both seen death, battle and loss, yet he was in denial. He was so stuck in his own prejudice and grief that he could not see past it, could not overlook your blood and realize you had the same enemy. 

“You don’t know what you are speaking about–” You begin, but are nearly immediately cut off. 

“Why are you alive?” Bucky asks, prowling forward so he stands above the sword at your feet. You lift your chin in defiance and meet his gaze “Why was the duke so eager to keep you as his daughter? You are illegitimate, you have no value to him. All you prove is that you are exactly like your mother.”

“You know nothing of my mother!” You snap, warning a cold laugh from the horselord. 

“Blindfold her.” He commands sharply to a tense looking Nat. 

“Buck–” Steve starts, only to be dismissed with a wave of Bucky’s callused hand. Nat is by your side, wrapping a strand of cloth around your injured hand. You don’t have the energy to protest, nor argue with Bucky any longer. 

Bucky glances at you with a look of distaste. “Gag her too if it pleases you. I think I preferred it when she didn’t speak at all.”

xxx

You hadn’t had the heart to inform Nat or Steve that a blindfold would not prevent you from using your magic. Your talents were in your blood, a part of your body and soul. It was always with you, even in the darkness. You felt foolish and defeated for ever thinking that these people may help you, let alone accept you. You had hoped that you could’ve used your healing knowledge for good, helped them and in turn they would have helped you. But Bucky was stubborn and cautious, you supposed it was for good reason. He wouldn’t see any reason to trust you, any tender feelings or doubts he would easily chalk up to your magic interfering with his mind.

It felt like you were in the manor once more, isolated in a house full of people. You stopped talking entirely, no longer finding a need. Either your father would eventually pay the ransom and you would be returned to your previous purgatory, or the horselords would kill you. Both seemed a similar fate, but the latter would be the kindest. 

Your visits from Peter stopped, due to your argument with Bucky you were no longer allowed to make the remedy for May. Instead the healers made it each morning and you would sit in silence as the world slowly woke up. You could tell the horselords were unnerved by your silence, muttering in hushed whispers when they walked past. Even on horseback, your back flush against Bucky’s chest, you could feel their burning gazes on you. 

“You have to eat.” Steve’s voice broke through the evening air, the feeling of a plate being nudged in your hands for the fifth time in the past hour. 

With the depression and defeat came a hunger strike. It wasn’t a rebellion, rather an admittance that you didn’t care any longer. A same bout of depression had hit you in the manor months ago, only coming to an end when your father had you force fed after days of fasting. You had quickly realized there were easier ways to die than starvation, at this point it was more to punish yourself. Or maybe to feel something other than the numbness that settled over your soul. 

The first day you had stopped eating, Steve had assumed you were doing it to be difficult. It was only on the third day that him and Nat had become concerned. By the fourth, Wanda had come and begged you to eat. You didn’t. You didn’t eat, you didn’t speak, sometimes you wished you didn’t breathe. 

You hoped one night you would close your eyes and never open them again. You would not, no, you could not return to that manor house. You could not live out the fantasy your father planned for you. You could not play duchess, feasting and living in luxury while the king ordered raid after raid upon the south. 

You would wake each morning, listen to the river flowing, the birds as they darted through the trees and the bustle of the camp. It was serene, a piece of calm that you breathed in and savored. Then you would be hoisted onto Bucky’s horse and spend hours on horseback. By the end you would swear you wanted to sob, to curl up into a ball and let the earth swallow you whole. Bucky barely spoke to you, only to make snide comments and jeers at your expense. The quieter and weaker you grew, the more concerned Steve and Nat seemed to become. You weren’t sure when Nat had decided she liked you. Maybe it was because you stopped eating, but you also placed her kindness from the moment she spotted the sigil on your chest. 

That afternoon when Bucky had pulled you from the saddle your knees had given in, collapsing next to his stallion. He hadn’t laughed, rather huffed in surprise as he realized how frail you had become. A part of you wondered if he cared, if he were worried at all. But you would not be able to tell the difference between a worry for a ransom or a worry for your person. 

“Maybe the blindfold is sucking all of your powers away, Duchess?” He had said, poking you with the toe of his boot. You hadn’t replied, silent as ever. Nat had rushed off her mare to your side, pushing your hair from your face as she cradled your cheeks with worry. 

“She hasn’t eaten in a week, Bucky.” Nat had snapped at the man, helping you to your feet. 

“Good. Maybe she should starve.” Bucky had cut back, walking off with a huff. 

Pulled from your thoughts, you hear Steve grunt in annoyance. Leaves crunch beneath him as he shifts in place, seated next to you under the large willow tree. The plate of food in your lap was cold by now, adding to the lack of appeal. 

“Eat,” Steve commands, nudging you with his foot. You bite your tongue, leaning your head against the bark of the tree. The breeze was slow and cool, strands of hair tickling your neck. You listen to the birds, the bubbling of the river. Beside you, Steve drawls your name once more, near begging as he taps his finger against the wooden plate. “You will die if you do not eat.”

You can’t help it – a dry laugh leaves your lips. Your throat feels raw from lack of use, your laugh sounding croaky. You wet your lips with a smile, pointing your head in his general direction. For the first time in days you break your silence.

“You think I don’t want to die?” You say, voice rough and gravelly though laced with amusement. You can almost imagine the deep frown that would cross his face. 

“You are upset. You have made your point, but I don’t think you actually want to die.” Steve responds gruffly. You can hear the sound of him running a hand through his beard, coarse hairs scratching against his skin. 

“I would rather die than go back to my father.” You mutter.  “If he doesn’t pay the ransom, Bucky will kill me anyway. I have thought it all through – every outcome ends with my death. It would be a mercy to get it over with.” You wave your hands wealy for effect, arms straining against the rope that ties you to the tree. 

“I think you have known every outcome long before this hunger strike. Why now? What changed?” Steve asks, you chew on the inside of your cheek with a sigh. 

“I thought I could change fate. I am just repeating the mistakes of my mother.” You admit reluctantly, tilting your head back to meet the bark once more. “I thought the horde could save me, that I could earn their respect by being a healer. Bucky hates me and I do not know why, but I know that he seeks my death so I am better to just…accept it.” 

Steve contemplates this for a moment before speaking. “He has his reasons to be… cautious.” He says, words slow and carefully chosen. 

“So you think his hatred is justified?” You retort.

“I think he is conflicted.” Steve sighs. “He has a great respect for you, I can see it. He has always had a respect for the people of Idamir.”

“Respect?” You laugh bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Why do you think he lets you ride with him? Most prisoners we take are tied up to walk behind the horses, then when they can walk no more we drag them.”

You scoff in response, “I do not understand you horselords. You claim to respect me one day and then threaten me the next.” 

“You need to understand that Bucky and the duke have history, his hatred is not for you but rather your bloodline.” 

You let out another dry laugh, cutting back sharply, “I cannot help my blood.” 

“I know. I will explain,” Steve starts with a sigh. “There was a raid, a bad one, years ago. The duke took some of the women hostage, made a show of whipping them as torture until they could barely walk back to his estate. Before we could rescue them, he executed them publicly. Bucky’s mother and sister were among them.”

You were tight-lipped as Steve recounted the story, dirty fingernails dragging over the linen of your skirt. You knew of your fathers affection for whippings, he was a cruel man who enjoyed torturing his victims until nearly all life had left them. The prisoners of the duke did not fear death – rather the torture that came before. You had grown to know each of his whips intimately, from the simple leather ones to the ones with metal barbs attached to the tip. 

“Bucky’s left arm - I am sure you have seen the scars - was nearly chopped off by Grawic soldiers while fighting to try to save them. He was unsuccessful, barely escaping with his life. The witch healers of Idamir helped him, nursed him back to health. He has a great respect for them, which is why their slaughter was so hard upon us.”

You feel a cold dread rise in your stomach at the mention of the slaughter – visions of your mothers body pierced by a spear. You clench your fists around your skirt – snapping back before you can think. “Yet he despises me?” 

You can feel Steve’s disapproving frown at your harsh tone. “That is where the conflict lies. He wants to like you, because he knows you are more Idamiran than duchess. But he made a promise to himself to kill the duke and all of his bloodline, so they could never hurt or kill ever again.”

A cold chill seeps down your spine, previous anger quelled by an ice in your veins. It wasn’t simple, just a hatred for your father, it was so much deeper and visceral than a simple promise made in haste. Bucky didn’t want to just kill the duke, he wanted to destroy him and everything that he had ever built. 

“He wants to wipe the duke’s blood from history.” You whisper.  Your hopes for being saved by the hoard seemed even more futile, like any efforts you may have made in past weeks were pointless. No matter what you did or what you tried, Bucky would not turn. He wanted to wipe you from history.

taglist | @boofy1998

[hellomissmabel]

The Duchess epilogue

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader, Steve x reader

Warnings: Mentions of poisoning someone, mentions of someone dying in childbirth (it’s not what you think, trust me, it’s a very brief mention). There’s some murder plotting too.

Word count: 1k

Summary: The Duchess of Manhattan likes her men regal. Y/N Stark grew up loving the king, but when the tables turn and the lovers are torn apart, she aims her arrows at the second in line for the throne.

THIS IS A MINI SERIES SO NO TAGGING SORRY X

Series masterlist can be found here

A/N: Written for my bae @caplansteverogers

Her cell was damp and moist, an icy wind blowing through the dungeons even though there are hardly any windows at all. She was kneeling on the ground, dragging her nails across the hard stone of the ground, drawing blood. Natasha’s confinement had driven her mad and you almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

“What do you want, Y/N,” she snaps at you without looking up to meet your eyes. Barely anyone visits her anymore these days, except you. It’s become a monthly tradition to pay a visit to the fallen Duchess and it’s purely out of sadistic tendencies. You love to see her rot away.

“It’s Queen Y/N now,” you correct her in a sickly sweet tone, nodding at the guard to give you a minute of privacy. Running your hand softly over your swollen belly, you step on one of her hands. She yelps in pain and eventually locks eyes with you. They are red-rimmed and as dark as night, reflecting the even darker soul underneath the flesh and bone.

“It’s a boy.” Perhaps you’re rubbing it in too much, perhaps you are pushing boundaries here. Perhaps this makes you a terrible person. But you were never one to shy away from victory even if it meant getting your hands dirty.

“Now, I’ve come here to tell you this will be my last visit. I’ve been begging Bucky to execute you, hand you in front of all the people, but he wants to grant you the dignity of a death of your own choice. So I would like to advise you to choose wisely.”

“I will not let you hang me,” her hoarse voice cuts through the glee of your words. “I want to die in my own house. I want to take poison, lay down in my own bed, surrounded by friends and family, and fall asleep while waiting for the end.”

Pursing your lips in a conceited smile, you kick her with the tip of your shoe so the falls backwards and hits her head against the wall. “You will not.” For a minute you believe she is going to cry, the way she is clasping the palm of her hand on the injury her fall has created and shuts her eyes closed. “I will let you die by poison, but not like that. I will have someone slip some in your food or your drink. Yes, that I’ll do.”

Throwing a quick glance in the direction of the guard, you make sure nobody is listening in. “I will have someone slip something in your food or drink. You will never know and you will never suspect a thing. It might be tomorrow, or it could also be next month, next year, or in ten years.”

“You evil woman,” Natasha growls back at you. “Bucky will know it was you when something happens to me!”

Shrugging innocently, you decide to take that chance. “He might or might not know it was me. But he will never say anything about it. He loves me. He loves our unborn child. He has always loved me and he has lost me before. He doesn’t want to loose me again, trust me.”

You nod at the guard and he opens the door to the cell, leaving enough room for you to slip past and walk back to your quarters, not even giving Natasha the time of day anymore after that final look in your eyes declared the war between you two to be over. You have won the prize, you are queen now.

After the incarceration of the Duchess Natasha Romanova of Queens, who later had been stripped of her title, King James Barnes married the Duchess Y/N Y/L/N of Manhattan, Staten Island and the Bronx. They had four children, from eldest to youngest, the Duke of Manhattan, the Duchess of Staten Island, the Duchess of the Bronx and finally the Duke of Queens.

Natasha died in her cell from starvation, after having taken Y/N’s threats to heart and refusing any and all meals that were offered to her in fear of being poisoned by the new queen’s order. The Duke of Brooklyn, Steven Grant Rogers, in an attempt to change her mind, unwillingly called Y/N’s wrath upon himself. So when Steve Rogers, per King Bucky’s request, moved away from court in order to keep the peace, he fell in love with a young maiden of no noble birth and left his title behind.

The Queen outlived her King, who died of old age, for many years and saw her children marry into various royal families all over the world. She ruled the country of New York until her firstborn was old enough to take over the reign, and during those years she reached out to her brother-in-law to make amends. His wife had died during childbirth and he was living with his beloved daughter on his farm.

Steve and Y/N’s romance rekindled and she fulfilled her promise to make Steve King of New York when they married shortly after their reconciliation. She died surrounded by her children and their spouses, her grand-children and her most intimate circle friends, her second husband Steve holding her hand.

Her legacy still lives on to this day.

Tag list: @melconnor2007 @learisa @mrshopkirk @dont-speak-just-read @buckyappreciationsociety @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @lovemarvelousfics @pleasantdreamqueen @petersunderroos @movingonto-betterthings @palaiasaurus64 @ssweet-empowerment @lovemarvelousfics @rrwilson66 @petersunderroos  @reniescarlett   @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @barnes-heaven  @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival  @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven  @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @a-little-hell-to-raise @knittingknerdy  @winterboobaer @hymnofthevalkyrie  @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @howlingbarnes  @themcuhasruinedme @buchananbarnestrash @hollycornish   @delicatecapnerd @tomhollandzs  @aletheladyinred @xbergiex @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers  @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @autijahnerd13s-blahg @sophiealiice @sarahmatthews7 @lumelgy @kudosia @daringtodreamawake @moonbeambucky @suz-123 @breezy1415 @always-an-evans-addict @thegreentgirl @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @curvybihufflepuff @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @pineapplebooboo @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508 @supernaturaldean67@cant-decide-at-this-moment @mehrmonga @specs15 @kanupps06 @imnotinsanehunny @sarahgracej @jasura @nerdyandproud9 @geeksareunique @jesspfly @badassbaker @whenallsaidanddone @ailynalonso15 @thebookisbtr @animechick725 @wheneggsymetbucky @bxckybxarnesstar @true-queen-of-mischief @debzybrazy

[hellomissmabel]

The Duchess II/III

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader ; Steve x reader

Warnings: Talk of murder.

Word count: 1k

Summary: The Duchess of Manhattan likes her men regal. Y/N Stark grew up loving the king, but when the tables turn and the lovers are torn apart, she aims her arrows at the second in line for the throne.

THIS IS A MINI SERIES SO NO TAGGING SORRY X

Series masterlist can be found here

A/N: Written for my bae @caplansteverogers

Taken aback by your question, Steve starts swallowing in the words as he stutters aa half-hearted answer. “I – euhm… I do want to – No, I can’t… Wait, I don’t – I… I do want to be king but… I am only the bastard son.”

You want to roll your eyes at Steve’s innocence and frankly also his ignorance, but you bite your tongue and throw some seduction into the conversation. “But what if I could make you king, Steve?”

“You can’t make me king, Y/N, stop saying such nonsense.” Steve waves away your words, but he can’t dismiss the proximity of your body, how close you are standing to him and the way your pupils dilate as you’re looking at him with those long, sultry eyelashes.

“I can make you king, Steve,” you repeat with a sweet twang to your voice. “My father abdicated a king and made King George the new king. How do you think he became the Duke of Manhattan in the first place.”

The blond squints his eyes at you in disbelief, so you try to paint an even clearer picture. “My father wasn’t a nobleman when he came to court. He was a peasant with ambition and noticed how George stood in the shadow of his brother, the king, and resented it. He took advantage of his resentment and plotted to get his brother dethroned. And I am my father’s daughter, so trust me when I tell you I can make you king.”

Steve wants nothing more than to be king with you by his side as his queen, but this is not the time nor the place to discuss such matters. “Keep your voice down, Y/N. There are eyes and ears everywhere.”

She nods and I expect her to drop it and just return to the party, which she almost does. But as she’s walking away she changes her mind, spinning around on the heels of her feet and strutting back towards me. Y/N then taps on my shoulder and stands on her tiptoes, coming eye to eye with the blond.

“Marry me, Steve. I’ll give you anything you want,” you promise him with a small heart, throwing all your cards on the table. “I’ll go to bed with your every night, I’ll sleep with you as often as you wish. I will give you a family, a big family, with lots of kids just like you’ve always wanted.”

Swiftly dancing around Steve, you brush away a stray blond hair behind his ear. “We can get married first thing tomorrow morning. If I call reverent Fury now, he’ll gladly wed us. Then we can assemble the council in the afternoon to get Bucky dethroned. Together we have more land and more influence than Bucky and the Duchess of Queens. Nobody loves the Duchess of Queens, but they do all love you.”

No matter how convincing you may sound, Steve doesn’t fall for your sugary schemes. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I will not marry you for ambition. I will marry you for love and nothing else.”

It’s a bitter pill to swallow, hearing your exact words fall from Steve’s lips. Scoffing softly, you pull the necklace Bucky gave you from your neck and place it in Steve’s hand. “I’m not Bucky’s anymore, if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s over and done. I’m ready for someone new.”

You can see the doubt behind those blue eyes swallow him. Almost, he’s almost there, he just needs another push. “I don’t want Natasha to be queen. I will not bow for that woman.”

“Neither will I,” Steve mumbles under his breath, giving you something in common. “But I still won’t marry you.”

“Then help me kill the future queen.”

Steve covers your mouth with his hand, his gaze an unspoken death sentence. “Not another word,” he hisses sharply, his tongue sliding like a knife through the air pulled taut. “How on earth are you going to pull that off?”

“She can’t have children,” you snap back at Steve, yanking yourself free from the hand over his mouth. “She lied to the council, Steve. They can have her head for it!”

“And how do you propose we inform the council?,” Steve taunts you with an ever harder voice than before, cutting through bone and marrow.

You purse your lips with a devilish grin. “We don’t. We leave it to Bucky to find out.” Squeezing his hand, you fish something out of your purse. It’s a small pocket watch that used to belong to your father, which you modified to your own personal taste along with a recording device. “I will confront her.”

The Duke scoffs with a doubtful look in his eyes. “You’ll never succeed, doll. You’ll be executed for high treason and when that happens, I won’t be there to save your ass.”

“Look Steve, there are only two ways this can go. Either he knocks me up first and then grows tired of me, casting me aside for a younger mistress and Natasha sends someone to kill me. Or he knocks me up and separates from Natasha because a divorce is not possible. She’ll grow jealous of me and my children. Either way, I will end up dead.”

Spinning a curl of your hair around your finger, you give Steve a naughty grin. Wind blows like a low whistle, a storm brewing in the distance. “I shall be queen even if I have to finish Natasha with my bare hands. It’s your decision if you want in on the ride or not.”

Tag list: @melconnor2007 @learisa @mrshopkirk @dont-speak-just-read @buckyappreciationsociety @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @lovemarvelousfics @pleasantdreamqueen @petersunderroos @movingonto-betterthings @palaiasaurus64 @ssweet-empowerment @lovemarvelousfics @rrwilson66 @petersunderroos  @reniescarlett   @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @barnes-heaven  @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival  @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven  @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @a-little-hell-to-raise @knittingknerdy  @winterboobaer @hymnofthevalkyrie  @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @howlingbarnes  @themcuhasruinedme @buchananbarnestrash @hollycornish   @delicatecapnerd @tomhollandzs  @aletheladyinred @xbergiex @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers  @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @autijahnerd13s-blahg @sophiealiice @sarahmatthews7 @lumelgy @kudosia @daringtodreamawake @moonbeambucky @suz-123 @breezy1415 @always-an-evans-addict @thegreentgirl @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @curvybihufflepuff @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @pineapplebooboo @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508 @supernaturaldean67@cant-decide-at-this-moment @mehrmonga @specs15 @kanupps06 @imnotinsanehunny @sarahgracej @jasura @nerdyandproud9 @geeksareunique @jesspfly @badassbaker @whenallsaidanddone @ailynalonso15 @thebookisbtr @animechick725 @wheneggsymetbucky @bxckybxarnesstar

[louisianaspell]

Misc Seb Creations

A masterlist for drabbles, moodboards, and other random creations

Moodboards

HBC Moodboard Monday (19 Aug 2019): Moodboards for Hades!Bucky, Old Hollywood Actor AU, Writer AU, 18th Century Harlot AU, Sex Cabin AU

Top/Rigger! Jefferson:  Brief description and moodboard for Jefferson as a rope bondage top 

Art Thief!Clay: Brief description and moodboard for Art Thief!Clay

Sex Cabins: Moodboards for having a sex cabin with lumberjack Daddy Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes

HBC Fashion Friday (13 Sept 2019) : Moodboards are some of my favorite looks on Seb

HBC Kinktober 2019 Moodboards: Warnings: Implied adult & sexual situations and implied nudity (nothing graphic)

HBC Facial Hair Friday (11 Oct 2019): A board for Seb’s beard

HBC Virtual Getaway (21 April 2020): Boards for getaway ideas (+1 wedding)

HBC Dream Role: I wanna see Seb in an 18th century historical drama

Moodboard for a fic I’ll never finish: You & Lance have a porn hub channel and Ransom is a fan

Bucky Adopts a Dog

Drabbles/Ideas

HBC Writer Challenge/7 minutes in Heaven: Clay Appuzzo x Reader, Clay gets lonely while on the road. Warnings: adult situations/mentions of sex & nudity, prostitution 

Mobster!Chase Collins Fic Idea: An idea I had for a mob au with Chase that I never intend to write

Duchess!Peggy Carter x lady’s maid!Reader: Stuck in a loveless marriage with her philandering husband, Duke!Steve, Peggy becomes close her to lady’s maid (this is really just a post with inspiration)

30s!Stucky Idea: An idea for a 1930s Stucky fic based on the movie Private Romeo

Bf’s mom/stepmom!Peggy Carter: Meeting your boyfriend’s parents changes everything

Ransom Drysdale x Reader, Peter Quint x Reader: Ideas for a Ransom and Peter Quint fic

Random Creations

Playlists for Seb’s characters: A list of songs for some of Seb’s characters. (Bucky Barnes, Carter Baizen, Chase Collins, Chris Beck, Clay Appuzzo, Destroyer!Chris, Hal Carter, Jefferson, Lance Tucker, T.J. Hammond)

[the-stories-in-my-head-95]

The Lady of the House- Part One

Tony Stark x Reader 

Steve Rogers x Reader (Past) 

Summary- Captain Steven Rogers, golden boy of the army, how could you not fall in love with him? The romance is passionate and it doesn’t take long for you to fall into the Captains bed. It should have been a fairy tale ending, right? Not so much. Steven leaves you pregnant to chase after a friend that everyone had written off as dead. You think your life is over until Duke Anthony Stark finds you crying in the royal garden. 

Message- Oh look a new series....didn’t have enough of those or anything. Hope you enjoy!! 

Warnings- Reader is abandoned when she is pregnant 

Word Count- 702

“Lady Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Wanda whispers. Wanda had been a great friend to you over the years, her mother had been your wet nurse, so the two of you (and her brother) often played together as children. When it was time for Wanda to choose a path for her life, your parents helped her become an apprentice to one of the court mid wives.

“No.” You sob. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Lady Y/N, you are pregnant.” Wanda whispers.

“I am ruined.” You sob.

“We will figure something out.” Wanda says, as she helps you off the bed. “I-If Pietro was still alive he would have married you. Perhaps we could find someone-.”

“Nobody who my father would approve of.” You sigh. “I-I think that I will go take a walk around the gardens.”

“I will accompany you.” Wanda says.

“That is not necessary. I-I wish to be alone.”

“Alright.” Wanda says, nodding her head. “But if you need to talk, come and find me.”

“Thank you, Wanda.” You say as you run out of your chambers and down the castle hallway, down towards the gardens. This time of day to gardens will be nearly empty, the perfect place to lick your wounds. You go to the farthest part of the garden, a bench, behind the large shrubs, a place where nobody would see you sobbing- at least that’s what you thought.

“I hate to see a lady cry. Is there something I can do to help you?” A man says, from behind you.

“Nobody can help me.” You sob.

“I am very good at fixing things. Perhaps if you tell me your troubles.” The man says as he sits down next to you, you look up and are surprised to find Duke Stark staring at you with concern.

“You are a man, you would not understand my troubles.” You say.

“Ah, so this is a womanly problem. Hmm let us see if I can figure it out. You are Lady Y/N, correct?”

“Yes.” You say, staring at him. “Why does that matter?”

“If my memory serves me correctly the gossips of the court were talking about how you and a certain army captain were spending quite a bit of time together about a month ago.” Duke Stark says. “Did you love him?”

“Yes.” You say. “But he has chosen the glory of battle over me.”

“His friend was captured, was he not?” Duke Stark asks.

“He was.” You say, nodding. “But they found him last month, and still Captain Rogers has not returned.”

“Ah.” Duke Stark says. “If I am wrong, please do not strike me, for my question has no bearings on what I think of your character.”

“Alright.” You say, confused as to what he means.

“Are you with child?” Duke Stark asks gently. “Is that what troubles you?”

“Yes.” You sob. “I-I carry the Captains child, but there is no ring on my finger. I-I fear what will become of me- of the baby. My father will cast me out, my friends will turn their backs on me and I cannot blame them, who wants to be associated with a whor-.”

“Hush, I will not stand to hear a lady of such integrity use such a word to describe herself.” Duke Stark says.

“My days of being a Lady are numbered.” You sob.

“You are correct.” Duke Stark says and your sobs grow hysterical. “For soon you will be a Duchess.”

“I’m sorry?” You ask.

“Marry me.” Duke Stark says. “Allow me to protect you and your child.”

“Y-You would marry me? In my condition?” You ask.

“Yes.” Duke Stark says, giving you a kind smile. “Will you marry me, Lady Y/N?”

“Yes.” You sob, pulling the Duke into a hug.

“Excellent.” Duke Stark says. “Now come, we have much to do. I still must ask your father for his permission.”  

“If you are truly as rich as everyone claims, he will not say no.” You say as you stand and start to walk back towards the castle.

“Good.” Duke Stark says. “I would hate to have to challenge him for your hand.”

“Surely you jest?” You ask, putting your hand through his arm.

“I will never jest about you, Lady Y/N.” Duke Stark says.

@loneliestlittlerainbow​ @jenniegs​ @thedoctorscamanion​ @loveisfriendship ​ @mymourningtea​ @cassiopeia-barrow @marvels-ghost  @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99​  ​ @loverbug1123 @pleasantdreamqueen​ @pbandj14​ @itsintothegreatbeyondstuff @princessleah129​ ​ @courtneychicken​ @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun​ @that-one-book-girl​ ​ @yipthegoddess​ @brooke-supernatural16​ @ailynalonso15​ @thefangirlliveson​ @conspiracy-teen​  @thegoddessofvampire​ @the-butterfly21​ @theshortegg​ @witchseer25607​ @bee-wrecker​ @precious-cinnamon-roll666​ @destiel-artemis @jackles-jadalecki​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @marvelismylifffe​ @mylifeisbeingconsumedbypineapple @kanupps06 @okayputta@geeksareunique @mummy-woves-you @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @tabziecat​ @ravenclaw-fangirl-7 @huntermichelle​ ​ @learisa​ @cutie1365​ @msmaximoff​ ​ @kitkatgaming​ ​​ @writings-and-stuff​ ​@xxashy999xx​ @sebba-hiddles​ @slashheartlover​ @scarlettsoldier​ @ladysergeantbarnes​ @i-just-wanna-run-hell @tonystarkismyboy @bestillmystuckyheart @musedhufflepuff@dontevenblink-badwolf-tardis @iamwarrenspeace

[the-stories-in-my-head-95]

The Lady of the House- Part Three

Tony Stark x Reader

Steve Rogers x Reader (Past)

Summary- Captain Steven Rogers, golden boy of the army, how could you not fall in love with him? The romance is passionate and it doesn’t take long for you to fall into the Captains bed. It should have been a fairy tale ending, right? Not so much. Steven leaves you pregnant to chase after a friend that everyone had written off as dead. You think your life is over until Duke Anthony Stark finds you crying in the royal garden.

Message- Here’s part three!!!

Warnings- Reader is abandoned when she is pregnant

Part One  Part Two

Word Count- 780

“How long will it take us to get to your home?” You ask as you look out of the carriage window.

“Our home and it should take about a week.” Tony says, taking your hand in his.

“I can’t wait to see our home.” You say as Tony raises your intertwined hands and kisses the back of your hand.

“I am quite positive that you will love it.” Tony says. “I can’t wait to show you all of my inventions!

“Will you tell me about them? Your inventions?” You say, when you look over at Wanda you notice an amused smirk on her face, you quirk up an eyebrow in question, but she just shakes her head slightly.

“Of course!” Tony says, smiling wildly. “I have invented several tools that make the harvest easier, also I created a machine that makes it easier for the servants to wash the linens and such.”

“You sound quite accomplished, Duke Stark.” Wanda says.

“Thank you.” Tony says, smiling at Wanda. “I learned it all from my father.”

“And our children will learn it from you.” You whisper, smiling a bit as you catch Tony’s eye.

“I am looking forward to it.” Tony says, smiling widely at you.

“Tell me about our home.” You say, leaning your head on Tony’s shoulder.

“The estate is vast.” Tony says. “Several villages fall on our land. There is a river that runs next to the forest, two rather large lakes and several well-kept gardens.”

“It sounds beautiful, I cannot wait to see it.” You say.

“You will soon enough.” Tony says.

**1 week later**

“Wake up, Y/N, we are home.” Tony whispers, gently shaking your shoulder.

“Already?” You ask, yawning, then you look out the window. “Oh, it’s beautiful, Tony.”

“You like it? Truly?” Tony asks.

“Truly.” You say. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

“And you haven’t even seen the inside of the manor.” Tony says, chuckling.

“I am sure it is wonderful.” You say.

“And if there is anything you do not like, as the lady of the house it is in your power to change it.” Tony says.

“I will keep that in mind.” You say, as the carriage stops. “Who are those people?” You ask.

“The staff, they are waiting to greet us.” Tony says, as he steps out of the carriage, then he helps Wanda out, and then he turns to help you out of the carriage. “This is Duchess Y/N Stark, my wife.”

“It is an honor to meet all of you.” You say as they all bow. “This is Wanda, she will be staying here.”

“I am Duchess Y/N’s personal servant.” Wanda says, eyeing you for confirmation, and you nod slightly.

“You are all dismissed.” Tony says, smiling at the servants, you watch as some of them take your luggage off of the carriage, and then start to carry it inside. “Y/N, this is Jarvis, he runs the household with his wife Ana.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you Mister Jarvis.” You say, curtsying.

“The pleasure is all mine, Duchess.” Jarvis says. “And can I introduce my apprentice Vision?”

“What a peculiar name.” Wanda says, staring at the tall man.

“My parents were peculiar people.” Vision says, smiling at your friend. “May I show you to your room?” He asks, offering Wanda his arm.

“Thank you, Mister Vision.” Wanda says, as she threads her arm through his.

“Well, that was interesting.” You say as they walk up the steps into the manor.

“Where is Pepper?” Tony asks.

“Virginia and Mister Hogan are taking care of a small issue in one of the villages.” Jarvis says.

“Please let me know when they get back, I want to introduce then to Y/N.”

“Of course, Sir.” Jarvis says.

“Come, Y/N, I’ll show you to your room.” Tony says, offering you his arm.

“M-my room?” You ask, your heart breaking a little. “We’re not going- I-I mean I just thought that we would- not to be presumptuous- but I-I thought we would share.”

“Oh! I-I didn’t want to presume. But I-I would like it if- I mean if you are amenable to it, perhaps we could sleep in the same bed.” Tony stammers out.

“The two of you were made for each other.” Jarvis snorts, as his eyes dart between the two of you.

“I would love to share a bed with you, Husband.” You say, as you take your husbands arm.

“Excellent!” Tony says, beaming.

“I will inform the staff.” Jarvis says.

“Perhaps after we freshen up, you would be willing to show me the gardens?” You ask, as you and Tony walk up the stairs.

“Of course, My Darling.” Tony says.

@loneliestlittlerainbow @jenniegs @thedoctorscamanion @loveisfriendship @mymourningtea @cassiopeia-barrow @marvels-ghost  @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99   @loverbug1123 @pleasantdreamqueen @pbandj14 @itsintothegreatbeyondstuff @princessleah129 @courtneychicken @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @that-one-book-girl @yipthegoddess @brooke-supernatural16 @ailynalonso15 @thefangirlliveson @conspiracy-teen  @thegoddessofvampire @the-butterfly21 @theshortegg @witchseer25607 @bee-wrecker @precious-cinnamon-roll666 @destiel-artemis @jackles-jadalecki @thisismysecrethappyplace @marvelismylifffe @mylifeisbeingconsumedbypineapple @kanupps06 @okayputta@geeksareunique @mummy-woves-you @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @tabziecat @ravenclaw-fangirl-7 @huntermichelle @learisa @cutie1365 @msmaximoff @kitkatgaming @writings-and-stuff @xxashy999xx @sebba-hiddles @slashheartlover @scarlettsoldier @ladysergeantbarnes @i-just-wanna-run-hell @tonystarkismyboy @bestillmystuckyheart @musedhufflepuff @dontevenblink-badwolf-tardis @iamwarrenspeace @vxidnik @alinsvoices @vesta-ro @stranger-chan @zoetrope1997 @unicornsrule233 @teaand-cookies @lookwhatyoumademequeue @givemefreedomorgivemefries @debgreenleaf 

[the-stories-in-my-head-95]

I Would Never Break my Vow

1000 fic request

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request- may i request a royal!au where you are with child and you see your Prince Bucky with another woman flirting and all and you sink into depression bc he promised you he would be loyal to you? angry & fluffy pls

Message- Here’s the first of the 10 fic recs that I am doing! It’s a royaltyAU. Sorry if it sucks!

Word Count-1073

“You cannot hide this for much longer, my Queen.” You seamstress says. “Has the King not grown suspicious of your lack of a monthly cycle?”

“He has not, he is too busy with her. But you are right he will soon notice the lack of blood in our bed. I will simply move into the courters he offered me when we first were married” You mumble.

“Many men take mistresses. Do not let this ruin you.” Your seamstress says as she pulls you into a hug.

“How can I not? He promised that he would stay faithful, always. I-I thought he was falling in love with me.” You sob. After you calm a bit you leave to find your husband.

“James.” You call and he turns and gives you a large smile.

“I thought we agreed on Bucky.” He says as he leans in to give you a kiss, but you lean back. His eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“I just wanted to let you know that I will be staying in the Queens chambers from now on.” You say sharply.

“W-What? H-Have I done something to upset you?” Bucky stutters out.

“I just think us sharing a bed is unnecessary, it is not as though we love each other.” You snap out before quickly turning to leave the room. You leave so quickly that you don’t see the shattered expression on Bucky’s face.

***

It has been a month since you slowly started to isolate yourself, you barley left your bed and you seamstress had to basically force you to eat. You were currently sitting in the library reading because your scullery and chamber maids had kicked you out of your chambers so they could clean. You’re enjoying your book, when you feel a presence above you, so you look up and see Bucky.

“Duchess Natasha believes you are with child!” Bucky stammers out.

“Does Duchess Natasha have any other speculations about my life you wish to share?” You snap

“I-Is it true?” Bucky murmurs. You can see the pain in his eyes. He was probably hurt that he could no longer divorce you if he wished to.

“I-Is that why you moved out? Are you upset about being pregnant? I-Is it even mine?” Bucky’s last question came out as a whisper.

“Of course it is yours. Did Duchess Natasha tell you it was not? I have remained faithful in this marriage.” You snarl before getting up.

“Please, I do not understand why you are so upset. You are pregnant, this should be a happy time. A time of celebration.”  Bucky says as he follows you out through the library.

“Go celebrate with Duchess Natasha.” You snarl before slamming the door shut, leaving a shocked Bucky behind it.

***

Bucky throws a banquet to celebrate the news of your pregnancy. Your seamstress and maids gather all around you, preparing you for the night. Once they finish, you get up and leave.

“Are you not going to wait for the King?” One of your maids asks.

“No, I am sure he is busy.” You mumble, before leaving the room.

“Y/N! Y/N, stop!” Bucky yells as he runs down the hall to catch up with you. “I was just on my way to collect you.” He says as he smiles at you. Your heart flutters a bit, so you move you your head to face away from him.

“Let’s go.” You mumble and you take his arm and he leads you in. Dinner goes by quickly and you begin to mingle with the guests.

“Queen Y/N.” Duke Steve says with a bow.

“Y/N, please, Steve. After all we are allies.” You say as you grin at him.

“Allies in what? May I ask?” Steve asks.

“You do not need to pretend. I know about our spouse’s affair.” You say as you roll your eyes.

“Natasha and Bucky aren’t having an affair.” Steve whispers to you.

“Yes they are. I saw them huddling in a dark corner of the castle. Denial does not suit you Steve.” You say.

“I-Is this why you told Bucky you do not love him? It’s why you moved into the queens chambers to be it?” Steve says and you look down in same, but nod your head. “Come with me!” Steve adds before taking your arm and pulling you out of the room. As he does he motions towards where Bucky was standing with Natasha.

“No, please.” You mumble. Because you didn’t want to hear it from your husbands mouth. The way it was now, you could still deny it if you wanted to. You were full on sobbing once the doors shut behind the four of you.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Is it the baby?” Bucky asks as he moves towards you. He moves to put his hands on your stomach but you flinch away.

“Y/N thinks that you two are having an affair.” Steve says and you’re trembling in fear at what your husband’s response will be.  

“What? No! We are not, I-I p-promised you that I would always be faithful. Remember?” Bucky whispers to you.

“Y/N, no I promise you, Bucky and I are not having an affair.” Natasha says.

“DO NOT LIE!” You cry. “I KNOW WHAT I SAW!” Then you start sobbing more.

“No-no! Y/N please believe me. Whatever you think you saw, didn’t happen like you think it did. Please, tell me what you think you saw, so I can explain myself.” Bucky says.

“I-I was l-looking for you to tell you about the baby and I found you and Natasha whispering to one another in the corner, then s-she kissed y-you on the cheek a-and-.” But you couldn’t continue because you were sobbing so hard.

“No, you miss understand. We were talking about you. I was asking Natasha advice on how to tell you about my feeling. I-I love you. Please, believe me.” Bucky says as he collapses in front of you, he wraps his arms around you-as much as he can with since you were now 5 months pregnant.  “I-I love you so much and since you left o-our room I’ve been hallow. Please I will swear it on any deity you choose, I promise I have and will always be faithful to you.”

“I-I love you, too.” You murmur. Bucky stands and pulls you into a kiss and you feel for the first time in months that all is right with the world.  

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