#king!steve rogers x reader fanfic

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the ravenous rupture

fused with the foe, chapter five

a/n: and that's it for fused with the foe! but don't you worry, our wonderful king and queen will return in both of the next instalments of the series ♡ (the release date for the next one is already up on the masterlist)

summary: “I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.” 

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, smut, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, love confession, crying, kissing, loss of virginity, semi-public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, dirty talk, oral, fingering, handjob, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, aftercare

word count: 3895

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist

info about the world | maps | pinterest board | playlist

masterlist | join my taglist

Raising yourself up onto your tip toes, your fingertip still didn’t even manage to graze the spine of the tome you were trying to reach, only the tall shelf it stood on. 

But just then, before you could turn to get a chair to balance on, an inked hand came into view and grasped the book for you. 

“The Biology of Soil: A Farmer’s Comprehensive Study of Dirt,” Barnes dryly read the title out loud, “sounds absolutely riveting.”

“Don’t mock,” you snatched the leatherbound tome out of the knight’s hand, “it is interesting!”

“Of course, it is, your majesty,” he bit down a chuckle, “my apologies.”

A soft laugh couldn’t help but bubble out of you as you exited the library, “you know, you remind me a lot of my brothers.”

Walking at your side, he shot you a squint, “is that a compliment?”

“Well, I meant it as so, but I guess it could also be interpreted as an insult, all depending on which brother.”

Sinking further back into the plush armchair, your eyes danced from star to star as they glinted back at you through the big library window. 

The full moon was so bright that you hadn’t needed to light a candle in order to make out the sentences in the open book that rested in your lap. 

But suddenly, the creak of the heavy double doors to the chamber found your ears and when you twisted your head to discover who it was, your frame immediately sprung up from your comfortable seat. The forgotten tome tumbled to the floor with a dull thump as the embroidered dressing gown you wore over your ivory chemise fluttered around your legs as you swiftly stood.

“Your majesty–, Steve, I mean, Steve,” you clumsily corrected yourself, “hi, hello.”

“Evening,” he simply smiled, slowing his stride as he watched you bend down to pick the hardback off the floor. 

Hugging the book to your chest, you blew out a breath, “what–, uh…” you eyed the loose linen shirt he had sloppily tugged into his trousers, “what are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged, “thought a boring novel might do the trick,” letting his fingertips kiss the ends of each bookcase as he neared you by the window, “what about you?”

“Yeah, I can’t sleep either,” a soft sigh flowed from your lips, “my mind just doesn’t seem to wanna settle down these days…”

A gentle furrow appeared to Steve’s brow, “what’s troubling you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” you placed the book down on the round side table by the armchair. 

“If it’s keeping you up then it’s not nothing,” gripping the tall back of the chair, he rested against it as he gazed at your visage in the moonlight, “come on, you can talk to me.”

The knot in your chest tightened, “no, I can’t,” and you averted your gaze to the stone floor, “I really can’t…”

“Why?” 

“Because–…” clenching your jaw in an effort to keep tears at bay, you briefly shot him a glare as you snapped, “because I just can’t, alright?” squeezing your eyes shut, you quietly muttered just beneath your breath, “gods… how long will I have to wait…” 

Having apparently had better hearing than you’d thought, Steve then queried, “wait for what?”

Fluttering your eyes back open, you met his gaze and uttered sombrely, “…for it to pass…” feeling your heart thump painfully in your chest just from the mere sight of him. 

A low sigh slowly seeped out of his lungs before his unwavering gaze averted to the upholstery of the chair, “…I hope you know that I’ve grown to care for you a great deal. You’re a very dear friend,” he uttered with the utmost sincerity, “and as a dear friend, I wish for you nothing but the purest of happiness. I want you to experience all of the great and wonderful things that life has to offer,” his ocean eyes then drifted back up to catch yours, “don’t let our union hold you back for any of that.”

Sucking in a breath, you asked, “what do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.” 

Averting your gaze, “…is that what you want?” you dug your nails into your opposite palm, “for us both to openly be with other people?”

“I don’t want you to be lonely and depressed,” fragments of desperation resonated in his tone, “you’ve already experienced more than one lifetime of hardships and I really don’t want this to be another one. So, when you fall in love, please don’t hesitate. You of all people deserve to experience that.” 

“…I–…” a shaky breath escaped you, “I can’t–…”

“…you can’t?” he echoed in nearly a whisper. 

“I can’t because–…” lifting your gaze, the library around you grew more blurry by the second, “because I can’t stop thinking about you,” you revealed, “from the moment that I wake to even the dreams that possess me at night. I can not shake you from my thoughts no matter how hard I try,” as you blinked, a tear escaped and rolled down your cheek, “Steve, I wish for you to experience those very joys you speak of just as fiercely. I just want you to be happy even if I’m not the source.”

Looking as if he was scarcely breathing at all, his gaze stayed fixed upon you as he uttered, “dove, why do you think I wish that for you?” your eyes grew wide at his confession, “I don’t wanna be with someone else when you are the one I want by my side,” his fingers faltered from the grip they had on the back of the armchair as his slow steps began to carry him closer to where you stood, “not just as my queen, but as my friend, as my conscience, as my judgement, as my heart,” his eyes glistened as he then declared, “I am yours, Y/n. I didn’t plan for it, I don’t even know when it happened or how, but I do know that it’s true.”

Closing the short distance that remained, you walked up and pulled him down as you began to rise up to your tip toes. As you crashed your lips against his, it didn’t take long before you felt his broad hands glide over your waist. 

Breaking the kiss, you retracted just enough to catch the beguiling look in his eye. The corners of his lips drew up dreamily just as yours did right before you dove back in.

As your fingers weaved in his beard, so did his tongue as it danced against your own, making you lightheaded as your feet began to shuffle back, though you didn’t realise that you’d even been moving till your spine crashed against a sturdy bookcase. 

Parting momentarily at the impact, a soft giggle swiftly followed your initial squeak the collision conjured. As his gentle chuckle echoed your own, Steve’s palm caressed down your features before he captured your lips once more. 

When the fire inside of you crackled and burned too hot for you to ignore, you pulled back, a glossy string of saliva still kept you connected a moment before you gasped, “Steve, I–… I–…”

Resting his palms over yours as they clutched the top of his tunic, he tilted his chin back further, “what?” creating enough of a distance between you to truly check in. 

But how you were going to ask of him what you desired remained a mystery, no matter how hard you scrambled your fuzzy mind. So instead, you wrapped your fingers around one of his wrists and slowly guided it lower. 

“Dove…” he sucked in a breath as his gaze shadowed the journey you were taking his touch on, “do you wanna–…” finding your eye, he asked you softly, “you sure you know what it is you’re asking for?” 

“Yes,” swiftly flowed out of you as you nodded dizzily, “I–… I know. I read the books, I read all of them, I know how it all works,” your rushed words conjured a lovely little chuckle from the royal, “I just–… please?” your hot breathed fanned across his features as he leaned back in close, “I–… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you…” with your fingers still enveloped around his wrist, his touch slowly began to take over and to move on its own, “fantasising about what you might be like…” unhurriedly ghosting up and down the curve of your waist, “about what your touch must feel like…” each time creeping closer and closer to where you wished for him to caress, “how it differs compared to my own…” till his teasing touch ended each fluttering swoop with feather-light grazes at both the swell of your tits, as well as the lower part of your abdomen, just before he actually reached anything real, through still leaving you utterly dazed. 

Leaning a forearm against the shelf behind you, he smirked, “…you think about me?” 

“Every night,” you dug your fingers in the fabric of your chemise and pleadingly began to hike it up, “sometimes the sun doesn’t even manage to set before I need a moment alone… all because of you.”

As he then captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his wandering hand dipped under your thin shift before you’d even raised the hem completely. When his touch found your buzzing pearl, a whimper slipped from your lungs and vibrated against his tongue as your grip on the fabric faltered and it dropped to hang around his wrist like a curtain.

“Is this how you dreamed about me touching you?” he gazed down at you, smiling at the way you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

Mind melting to ooze, you bubbled, “yes–, but also–, oh!” your brows knit together as he switched to circle your clit harder, “a-also–”

“Also how?” you could hear your want reverberate off the palace walls as he touched you, “did you dream about me kissing you down here?” holding your gaze, Steve then sank to his knees before you. 

Your breaths came in ragged as you blinked down at him, “y-yes,” watching intently as he dipped his head under your gathered-up skirts. The sloppy pecks he then lavishly began to plant over your glistening petals felt like nothing you’d ever imagined, “oh, that’s–,” you let out a broken moan, “don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Throwing your head back against the bookcase, Steve’s grip buried in your crumbled clothes as his soft tongue dragged through your desperation. 

Letting go of your chemise with one hand, it drifted down your hip. Enclosing his lips around your throbbing clit, he sucked down hard as his fingers joined to sweep through your mess, only parting from you for a breath, “gods, you taste so fucking good,” before he eased one digit inside your clenching cunt. 

You barely noticed that it was falling before the robe you wore slipped off your frame and tumbled to a puddle on the floor, leaving you with only the thin shift and the king’s hot kisses for warmth in the cold night. 

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you whimpered, reaching down to thread your fingers in his honied hair as a second finger sneaked in beside the other, fucking you gently with them. 

You nearly wiggled out of his grasp when his luscious laps unravelled you completely, but somehow the monarch managed to follow your every squirm till he softened his efforts and replaced them with a few soft pecks over your sensitive clit that made your whole form twitch.

Fluttering your eyes open, you met his gaze as he raised the back of his hand to wipe some of your juices from his beard. 

Breathlessly, you uttered, “get up,” and as he did, you didn’t waste any time before your eyes drifted from his tender stare, “take your shirt off.” 

With one hand, he reached back and tugged the tunic off of his head, swiftly letting it drop to the floor and join the fabric puddle already at your feet. 

For a moment, he didn’t give in on his urge to close the short distance between you, simply stood there and let your stare study him, learn the galaxy of his flesh, every little mark and scar that told the story of his past. 

With your eyes still glued to the burliness of his fuzzy chest, you uttered, “tell me again,” before lifting your gaze up to meet his, “tell me again so that I know this is real.”

Reaching out to grasp your right hand, he said, “it’s real,” stepping closer as he placed your ceremonially scarred palm over his heart, “I’m real, this is real,” his fingers on his own marked hand, which clasped over yours, gently brushed over your knuckles as he spoke, “I am yours,” he shifted again and closed the small gap between you, “I will always be yours till my dying breath.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, you watched as the moonlight glinted in the blue of his eyes, making them look like the sea on a stormy night. 

“I think my heart has belonged to you ever since the dragon attack,” you professed, “though it took me a while longer before I realised what it was, why you made me feel the way that you do,” you parted your fingers against his chest, “Steve,” and let his weave in with your own, “I love you.”

Using his hold as an advantage, Steve yanked you to him till your lips crashed against his. Letting your free hand wander across his warm skin, it swiftly came down to cup the palpable tent in his trousers.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly as you offered him a light pet. 

As you shifted to fiddle after the buttons on the side of his breeches, even the aid of your other hand didn’t yield any success in undoing more than one of them. Swiftly coming to your rescue, you swore it only took him three seconds before they hung loose enough around his hips for his cock to spring free.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you glanced down at length which stood so proud it poked you in the stomach. If only you had the proper context to truly know how intimidated you should have been at the discovery of his fat girth. 

Hesitantly inching your fingers closer as you stared, you asked, “can I–…?”

“Mhm,” he hummed as he slowly brought your hand the rest of the way down, engulfing his own grasp around yours and gently showing you how to touch him. 

As a sinful curse flowed from Steve’s lips, his free hand drifted up to weave itself into your hair. 

“Will it hurt?” you watched how your fingers failed to meet on the other side of his girth. 

“I don’t know, I hope not,” his forehead rested against your own, “but if it does, then we just stop and figure something else out, okay?”

“Okay…” you hazily nodded. 

Feeling his fingers flex around your own, you saw precum glint at the bulbous tip. 

“It’s all for you, dove,” you felt him throb at your touch, “all because of you,” a desperate growl then seeped out of his lungs as he seized your lips in a fervent kiss, and the next thing you knew, the whole world fell out from under you as he scooped you up into his arms. When a shrill yelp escaped you, Steve simply readjusted his grip on you and said, “don’t worry, I’ve got you,” nipping gently at your neck, “I won’t let you fall.”

With your fingers still grasping his girth, the new position now had your pussy pressed dangerously close to it, so close that you couldn’t help but sweep the head of his cock through your soppy folds and drench him. Tapping your clit a few times, the instinctual drive of his hips triggered you to simply cup his length near and let him part your pretty petals and lather himself in your needy nectar. Each desperate thrust ended in an electric nudge at your pearl, rendering you to whimper shakily into the night. 

But then suddenly, in the fog of it all, the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside, purely because of just how wet and ready you were. 

“O-oh, fuck!” everything froze as you reeled at the staggering sensation, breathlessly digging your nails into his broad shoulders and leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

“Sorry,” he hastily panted, “you okay?”

“Uh–… uh-huh,” you nodded fuzzily, shutting your eyes a moment as you caught your breath. 

But then as your gaze fluttered open once more, you caught his stare and offered him a short, affirming nod, holding his eye as he slowly began to move. 

Your mouth hung agape as he shallowly fucked you, barely even giving you anything but still turning you into goo in his grasp. 

“Y-you’re so beautiful,” you whispered as you fluttered around him. 

Gliding you’re your palm up to his cheek, moans tumbled out of you both as he gently began to offer you more. Your legs couldn’t help but twitch in his grasp as he practically split you in half with the way he eased you down on his fat cock. 

“You’re doing so well,” his face crumbled up in a silent moan as you felt every detail of him slowly stretch you out, “gods, you’re so wet…”

And the next thing you knew, it wasn’t so slow and steady any longer, as the bookcase your spine was pressed against rattled at his efforts. 

You thought before that just the bulbous head of him was overwhelming, but to have that tip kiss desperately against the deepest part of you was something else entirely. You couldn’t speak, you couldn't think, you could barely even breathe, just go slack in his firm hold and feel him, not just right there, but fucking everywhere, that’s how stuffed you were. 

Steve’s strength wasn’t that novel to you these days, but to have him lift you up and sink you down on his cock, like you were just a leaf on the wind, still managed to amaze you. 

“F-fuck,” you blubbered as you tumbled over the edge once more, “oh, fuck!” accidentally knocking a few books down as one of your arms flailed for purchase. 

You barely registered the loud thud the crashing books emanated as your frame melted down into his hold. Your face buried itself in the crook of his neck as he breathlessly came to a halt, still embedded deep inside of your clenching cunt. 

The sound of his breaths directly in your ear helped to soothe your tingling senses as he rested his cheek against the crown of your head. 

Shifting his feet, Steve carried you the short distance over to the comfortable armchair you’d inhabited earlier. Carefully sitting down in it and keeping you in his lap, his arms silkily slid up your back and hugged you close. 

After persuading you to curl out of your hiding spot by planting soft pecks all over your face, you blinked down at him, bathed in the moonlight that gushed in from the tall window beside where you sat.

Gliding a hand around to your front, Steve gently tugged on the thin string at your neckline, undoing the bow, before he pulled the shoulders down your arms till you slid out of the sleeves and the top of the undergarment crumbled to gather at your waist with the rest of the fabric. 

As he pressed his lips to the peak of your tits, one of his palms accompanied the kisses. A soft whine flowed out of you as your hand slid down to where your bodies were still joined and played with your puffy pearl. 

Casting a glance down, he groaned, “yeah, rub that little clit for me,” and your hips intuitively began to rock gently. 

As you touched yourself, something else caught your attention as you slowly began to ride him. At the lower part of your stomach, you felt the dull bulge of his staggering size poke your palm steadily to the rhythm of your gentle efforts.

Letting your pebbly nipple escape from his lips with a pop, his gravelly timbre washed over you as you slowly rocked, “that’s it, fuck–,” his grip slid down to be firm on your ass, “that’s my girl.”

Abruptly, as if snapping out of a trance, you notice just how loud you both were being.

“Wait,” you shushed him though didn’t halt your hips motions, “we’re in the library, someone could hear us!”

“Then fucking let them hear us,” his fingers dug into your ass as he desperately took over and bounced you in his lap, manhandling you as he slammed you down on his cock hard enough for you to lose your breath, “no one would dare bother us, trust me.”

And before you knew it, your cunt clamped down one last time around his cock, hard enough to halt his efforts and milk him of all of his worth. 

Weakly letting his dick slip out, your skin was practically glued to his as you plastered yourselves to each other and you sensed his hot load slowly leaked out of your sensitive hole. 

As you listened to his heartbeat slowly return to normal and your heavy lids fought to stay open, a thought entered your mind. 

“Hey, Steve?”

Shifting his arms around you, his soft hum washed over you, “hm?”

Keeping your voice low, you shared, “I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight…” but to your surprise, a gentle chuckle then rumbled in his chest, “what?” you lifted your head and blinked up at him, “why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just­­–,” he smiled, gazing down at you as if Zondür himself had divinely created you especially for him, “you really think I’d let you skip off to your room alone after all of that, like it never even happened?” 

Huffing out a short giggle, you lowered your glance, “well, when you put it like that…”

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “if you want me to sleep beside you, I will,” rising from his comfortable seat, he readjusted his grip on you, twisting you to him as he hooked an arm behind your knees and at your back. As he carried you close, he began to lumber out of the library and down the hallway, concurring the short distance to where your chambers lied, “my queen, I would love nothing more for the rest of my days than to fall asleep with your head on my chest and wake up to your softness arching against me…”

Flexing your fingers around his neck, you raised yourself up enough to capture his lips in a tender kiss one last time just as he kicked your bedroom door shut behind you both.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[bean-bean2000]

The Maid - Part 3

Pairing: Loki x reader (on going series)

Warnings: Angst, abuse, mental health (depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts). Eventual loki x reader pairing. Reader is a maid.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Part 2 Series masterlist Main Masterlist

You return to the maid's quarters, shaking in disbelief at your interaction with the king.

I just lied to his face. I'm such an idiot. Will he change his mind and punish me? Why was he so nice to me if he sends his guards to beat me almost daily? Why did he look concerned when he saw my injuries? Is this some cruel manipulative twisted joke so he can trap me into trusting him, just so he can rip my trust for him into pieces? To finally break me like the guards say they will?

Your mind is racing; confused, angry, hurt. You say nothing to the other maids when you return to your cot. If they are to know you spoke to the king, rumours will spread.

You decide you can't risk it, you have to request a change of duties.

You rush to the man in charge of separating the help's duties amongst the castle.

You bow your head and curtsy when you approach him "Good evening, sir. I am here to place a request, if possible." you say quietly, staring at the floor.

He says nothing so you decide to continue "I would like to change duties. I believe the king is no longer fond of my work, nor my presence and think a change would be best to appease his anger."

"Very well. I doubt he will notice the change anyway. You are quiet and forgettable. You will be placed on the rotation team. You will work multiple different duties at my discretion. You may leave now." he says to you coldly.

You thank him quckly and return to your chambers.

He's right. He won't even notice I'm gone. This is for the best, I must avoid him at all costs to stay alive. Stay quiet, do as they say and stay small. It's the only way I'll survive.

Over the next two weeks you successfully avoid all contact with the king. You're continuously rotating duties from maid, to kitchen staff, to laundry and you're body is aching from the physical exertion. The abuse from the guards subdued but did not stop from the Snake. He would search for you exclusively and insist it was at kings personal request. He did everything he could to try to break you, but you repeated the same words "Never". Sometimes you would fight back and other times you would simply take it so it could be over with faster, but one thing you made sure of is that he never touched you. You would go feral at the mention of it.

Yesterday, the Snake went too far and tried holding you down to 'teach you a lesson', you screamed and swung your hands as you scratched his face from his eyebrow to his lip so deeply he was bleeding profusely all over his bedroom floor. You took your upper hand to your advantage and threatened him " I can take your abuse, you will not break me and I will die before I let you touch me. Next time, I will scratch your eyes out." you hissed at him. He screamed for the other guards as he swung at you but you side stepped and tried running out but was caught by the other guards.

"Now, you will see what the king truly thinks of you once he discovers what you've done, witch. He will not be as merciful as I was. Bring her to the dungeons." he spits at you as you're dragged away.

You're thrown to the damp stone floor covered in hay, scratching your palms and knees as you roll on the floor.

"This is where you belong, witch." One of them says as the door locks behind you.

You hear their laughter fade as they walk away. The cell is disgustingly dirty, there is only a small space with bars that acts as a window. Besides the moonlight, you're left in complete darkness, the only sound to occupy your mind is the squeaks of the mice running around. You bring your knees to your chest and begin crying "What have I done? Why didn't I just let him do what he wanted? I wouldn't be here... At least I would have a chance at life... now I'm as good as dead" you cry to yourself.

The next day you're woken abruptly and dragged outside. Your hand are tied to a post and they rip open the back of your shirt.

Your heart races as you realize what is happening. You hear the Snake laugh and then the searing pain of the whip across your back.

You scream out in pain and dig your nails into the post to ground yourself.

"So the whore can scream afterall. Let's see how loud she can be. You've been holding out on me." the Snake mocks you.

This continued 10 times. For everyday the nurse said he would need to heal from the wound you created in his eye.

They drag you away and throw you back onto the dungeon floor. Bleeding profusely from your back, unable to move from the pain, you curly yourself into a ball and beg for death to take you.

You awake to a nurse tending to your back. You both stay quiet as she puts the familiar balm to your back and wraps your wounds to prevent infection.

Two days pass, no guards have come to bring you food or water. You're famished and parched. Your back is in continuous searing pain, your breathing has become more shallow every day. You're in such pain, you try to force yourself to sleep to avoid the pain. Eventually, you pass out. You're awakened by the sound of a crow squawking and the sun shining on you.

You look up and see the bird standing at the makeshift window, in between the bars. It crows a few times before turning around and flying away.

Even the birds don't want to be near me.

You hear heavy footsteps approach your cell when the Snake opens the door "Learned you lesson yet, witch? Get up, you reek. Bathe and get ready for work tomorrow. Maybe this will make you think twice before fighting me." he sneers at you.

You struggle to get up so he grabs you by the arm and yanks you to your feet making you shriek in pain from the deep cuts in your back.

"Shut up, harlot. Get out of my face." he spits at you.

You slowly walk out of the dungeons and back to the maids quarters. You're so weak, you collapse on your cot and pass out when you arrive.

🧹🧹🧹

You awoke before dawn, bathing to ease the pain. The nurse helps apply the balm to your back and wrap the wounds once more. You look at yourself in the mirror. Your left eye is severely bruised, you look exhausted and in pain.

Today you're placed on kitchen duty. You're slowly walking to the kitchen, when you see a crow fly overhead and land nearby on a statue.

A crow, again? ... Is it staring at me?

You shake your head in dismissal and you near the kitchen. You were to prep everything for the breakfast run before the cooks arrived.

You were deep in thought and humming to yourself while cutting vegetables and boiling some water to make yourself a coffee that you didn't notice somebody walk in behind you.

"Where have you been?" a familiar voice cuts through the silence. You yelp in surprise and cut your finger with the knife. You hiss in pain and rush to place a towel over it to stop the bleeding.

"Sorry darling, l keep frightening you." He approaches you but you back up in fear, your back hitting the kitchen counter. You groan out loud at the pain from your back hitting the counter. He stops and looks at you with hurt and confusion.

You keep your down "It's okay your highness. I'm fine." you say quietly.

He sighs "I've been looking for you."

Your eyes widen at that statement. Oh my god, he's going to kill me, just like the Snake said he would.

"Why were you replaced as my maid? I made no such request. I was very content with your work. Are you avoiding your king?" he presses on.

"Your highness, please. I will do as he says. I will not fight him next time. I beg you to please forgive me and spare my life. I was stupid, it was done in fear. I will never do it again!" you beg, your eyes brimming with tears. You're shaking, straining to breathe properly with the pain coursing through your entire body.

"What none sense do you speak of? Where were you?." he asks again, more urgently. It sounded more like a command than a question.

You bite your lip hard, making it bleed.

"My king...I don't... you ordered the guards..." you're unable to form a sentence through the fear shaking through you.

His eyes narrow and he inspects you and tries to make sense of the words you're hiccuping out.

"Who did I order to do what?" he asks you, his voice rising with anger.

I can't tell him. This is a trick. It was his orders. He knows, he wants to see if I will question his orders.

You take in a deep breath and steady yourself, stopping the tears from falling down your face.

If I avoid his question about the guards, I won't be lying to him.

"I requested a change of duties, your highness." you blurt out.

He looks taken aback "Why? Did I make you uncomfortable? Do you fear me?"

You're confused by his line of questions "No, your highness... I -"

"You're lying. I will give you one last chance." he says sternly.

You swallow thickly, your anger and frustration from the past months of mistreatment bubbles up inside. A sudden burst of confidence, you look up at stare at him. You notice his shock when he sees the damage to your face.

"No, your highness you did not make me uncomfortable. I have received your messages daily from the guards, and the whipping you ordered I received. I have heard the rumours and they ring true. You cannot blame me for fearing you."

"Whipping? Rumours? What -" Loki begins but is interrupted by the cooks entering the kitchen to start the day. His eyes fall to the bandages he can see at the bottom of your shirt, wrapping up and around your back. You see his eyes darken and his fists clench at his sides.

They freeze when they see the king speaking to you.

"Sorry your highness, we will -" one of the cooks begins.

"No. I will be taking my leave. There is something I must tend to."

He quickly exits the kitchen and the cooks stare at you in confusion. You dismiss their looks and return to your duties.

🧹🧹🧹

Part 4

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is always welcome. Feel free to send me suggestions for scenes/drabbles that I could add into the stroy :)

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!

@gruftiela

@elegantcheesecakecrown

@chxco-hyujin

@cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson

@i-am-amora-the-enchantress

[buckets-and-trees]

Cedar Trees

a collection of Royal AU stories centered around a King Steve Rogers and Queen!Reader

You came into this betrothal to Steve Rogers, King of York, with no illusions to the situation – yours was a marriage to ensure the continuation of many generations of alliance and peace between your respective kingdoms. It was your duty as the second-born. Very early, however, you learn what your royal union truly means to you both, and it's more than either of you expect.

Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] politically arranged marriage, reluctant pining, SMUT (rough fucking, vaginal intercourse, oral – female receiving, fluffy fucking, nipple play)

AUTHOR NOTE: The setting for this is a semi-Georgian era in a loose version of a North America based in no reality, only aesthetic and general royal protocols of the time.

ADDITIONALLY: I actively and eagerly accept questions about this AU as well as requests - asks I can get to fairly quickly, requests may take me longer. I know their general story, but I have no agenda for a plot for them, so I'm willing to fulfill requests based on what people would like to see in this couple's story.

ORIGINAL FOUNDATION PIECE: Fire Burning From a Cedar Tree

Release Order:

Fire Burning From a Cedar Tree [3.4k]

The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are [1.2k]

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts [1.3k]

A Shift in the Morning Routine [1.1k]

Love That's Laid Beside Me [5k]

Chronological Order:

The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are

Fire Burning From a Cedar Tree

A Shift in the Morning Routine

Winter Solstice (an ask that plays into their narrative)

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

Love That's Laid Beside Me

Extras:

what if Cedar Trees was also an omegaverse?

your first winter holidays as Queen in the kingdom of Brooklyn (winter solstice)

ask re: kinks and physical intimacy

Resources:

Collection Cover by me

Divider by @firefly-graphics / #evansyhelp

[bucky-h0e]

Of Summer Days and Winter Nights

Medieval Fantasy AU! Knight Bucky x Princess Reader

Synopsis:

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

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

Masterlist

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Taglist: OPEN

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

A/N:

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

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

[4rcaneye]

⭐️who i write for⭐️

mcu

steve rodgers

bucky barns

peaky blinders

thomas shelby

dc

clark kent

batman (ben affleck) & battinson

got

robb stark

jon snow

hotd

aegon targaryen

daemon targaryen

queen charlotte

king george

nhl

brock boeser

auston matthews

jacob markstrom

nfl

travis kelce

celebrities

jack harlow

cod

könig

ghost

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

**FANFICTION MASTERLIST**

NIGHTS AT THE CIRCUS (Complete) 18+ Avengers!Loki x Reader You encounter Loki after being 'recruited' by the Avengers for your pyrokinesis. The closer you find yourself getting, the further Loki goes to help you uncover the secrets of your past in order to pursue your future. The Chair, Again A Frost Giant's Lullaby

BEAUTY & THE SNAKE PRINCE (Complete) 18+ Prince!Loki x Concubine!Reader After being forced to audition to be the Prince of Asgard's newest concubine, you use your hopeless situation to try and win freedom for your people, but you don't expect to fall for the moody, tortured Prince Loki.

DON'T FEAR THE REAPER (Complete) 18+ Soft!Dom!Loki x Magic!Reader Cursed with the power to kill with a single touch, S.H.I.E.L.D. deems you a high-level threat until Loki intercedes on your behalf, betting that under his guidance, you can bring your gifts under control within a year.

Time & the Trickster (Loki/Doctor Who Crossover) (Complete) eventual Loki x Reader; hinted Ten x Rose One final effort to prevent his sacrifice at the TVA sends Loki careening through the Timelines until he finds what may be the strangest one of all. His only hope comes in the form of the first person he meets, who suggests a mysterious mad Doctor might be his only chance to return home. 

Déchiré: An Avengers’ Lust Story (On Hiatus) 18+ Loki x Reader; Steve Rogers x Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader; Steve x Bucky You are a HYDRA agent sent to infiltrate the notorious Avengers, to tear them apart in the worst way possible in order to make them vulnerable to attack. In the midst of the wild heat you generate, three suitors take your bait.

A Song for the Fallen (Complete!) 18+ Bucky x Reader; Steve Rogers x Reader After your new husband is Snapped out of existence and leaves you pregnant with his child, Steve Rogers takes it upon himself as a final duty to his best friend to support you for the duration...until he falls in love with you himself. Five years later, just as you're finally ready to marry the Captain, Bucky returns, expecting his beloved wife to fall into his arms.

Loki's Island Fever (In Progress) 18+ ONLY Avenger!Loki x Reader (enemies-to-lovers) You find yourself marooned on an uncharted island with the last person you want: the bratty, cocky Loki. But when a tropical fever sends his thoughts in a different direction, will your new island home become the sexy paradise you always wanted?

FANFIC MUSIC DRABBLE FESTIVAL MASTERLIST (Complete) LOKI X READER KINK DRABBLE MINISERIES MASTERLIST

One Shots: All Audiences The Princess of Mischief Dream Weaver Pure Chaos The Skin We're In When the World Fell The Date On the 3rd Day of Christmas The God and the Wallflower Astraphobia Nurse Loki Light My Candle Coffee, Black The Real Thing I Hate You, Captain Marvel! The 1st Annual NYC Avengers Convention Shine! Blazing with the Boys An Oasis The Avengers Embark on a Brief Escape from Sanity Thief of Hearts (Will Ransome x Reader) The Princess and the Stable Boy Idunn and the Golden Apple Loki, Triumphant (Loki x Sigyn) A Strange Little World --NEW!

Our Mrs. Loki (Part 1 of 2) Old Mrs. Loki (Part 2 of 2)

The Birds They Put in Cages (Part 1 of 2) No Net Ensnares Me (Part 2 of 2)

One Shots: 18+ Only The Mating Dance Don't Touch Me Just Another Baby Story The Little Green Handkerchief Know Your Place Dangerous Curves Deliriously Happy Snow Bound A Taste of the Bubbly Blame it On the Rain The Wedding Altar Mother, May, I? (Bucky x Pregnant!Reader) A Damsel's Debt Return of the King --NEW! All Mine --New! A Very Good Pet A Very Naughty Pet

MY AO3

Behold! A new-and-improved masterlist!

Enjoy!

@lokisgoodgirl @anukulee @coldnique @chantsdemarins @el-zef @fictive-sl0th @glitterylokislut @holymultiplefandomsbatman @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @kellatron55 @kikster606 @loopsisloops @lowkeyorloki @lokischambermaid @lokimostly @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @michelleleewise @peachyjinx @psychospore @silverfire475 @sarahscribbles @trickster-maiden @vbecker10 @wheredafandomat @xorpsbane

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Hold My Hand

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1353

Summary: Bucky and you help one another heal mentally while growing closer to each other.

Warning: Bucky and Reader working through trauma, emotional scenes, Bucky crying (yes it’s a warning)

A/N: thank you to my betas @pigwidgeonxo and @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @music-culture-mythology (any mistakes on spelling & grammar are my own. Did this on my phone)

A/N 2: Song - Hold my Hand by Lady Gaga. Listen to the song here:

All GIFS are not mine and found on my GIF keyboard on iPhone.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

The gentle breeze blew across your skin as you overlooked the beautiful scenery of Wakanda. You had arrived here six months earlier as a victim of Hydra’s brainwashing. Your life was a series of broken memories and anger about what was taken from you. Steve Rogers had been the one to find you at a Hydra base during a mission with the Avengers. Seeing you in tattered clothes standing in a cell reminded him of his best friend Bucky Barnes whom he was trying to locate before the falling out of his team. You were a broken woman both physically and mentally. The Wakandan King, T’Challa had promised to help you the best they could with the resources that they had. Thankfully treatment had been helping you when another former Hydra operative, the Winter Soldier, or as you knew him now, Bucky Barnes, arrived in Wakanda. 

At first, you both kept your respective distances as you went about therapy, him having the Soldier’s trigger words removed and you trying to piece your life together. It wasn’t until a couple of months later that you found yourselves with the Wakandan people, laughing around a bonfire. You were both dressed in the beautiful Wakandan attire. Your eyes seemed to lock across the fire, both offering the other a smile. Finally you each introduced yourselves and made small talk that night. It was almost as if time stood still for you both. 

Hand in hand you spoke of your pasts and the evil Hydra did. You both talked until the sun came up that morning. By then you knew each other’s history but neither were judgmental of the other's darkness. What you did know is that you didn’t want to face another day without the other. 

Hold my hand, everything will be okay

I heard from the heavens that clouds have been gray

Bucky walked hand in hand until you reached your hut overseeing the same lake that his hut also sat on. When he said goodbye you could tell his past was creeping up on him, so you gently pulled him in for a hug and kissed him on the cheek.

Pull me close, wrap me in your aching arms

I see that you're hurtin', why'd you take so long

Time went by and you ended up with a routine with him. Together you walked to therapy and parted for your one-on-one therapy. Then afterward you spent your time doing whatever your heart desired. It wasn’t until one day that Bucky told you about what Ayo planned to do. He explained, “to make sure the trigger words don’t activate the Soldier she wants to say them to me later tonight. I was wondering if you would be by my side to help me through it.”  

Smiling back at him you nodded. “Of course, Bucky. I won’t leave your side. I’m here if you need me.” Later that night you would face his fears together hand in hand. 

To tell me you need me? I see that you're bleedin'

You don't need to show me again

But if you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you

I won't let go 'til the end

Bucky and you sat around a bonfire holding hands as Ayo asked if he was sure he wanted to do this with you there as it could be dangerous. Both you and Bucky reassured her you weren’t going anywhere.

Ayo spoke softly, “It’s time.”

Bucky stared into the fire as his flesh hand gripped yours. “Are you sure about this?”

“I won’t let you hurt anyone,” Ayo reassured him as she started slowly saying the words. 

“желание. ржавый. семнадцать.”

“It’s not gonna work.” Bucky hesitantly responded.

“рассвет.”

Bucky’s eyes started to tear up as he gripped your hand tighter and took a deep breath. The image of the red book that held those wicked words flashed across his mind.

“печь.”

Bucky’s mind thought back to being held in a secure box with Zemo in front of him. 

“девять”

Then it cut to him quickly during his fight with Steve, the man on the bridge. Bucky was trying to control his breathing but it was hard to remain focused.

“доброкачественный”

His mind thought of the chair they strapped him to. Of riding a motorcycle and hitting a car off the road. Then killing the occupants.

“возвращениr е на родину”

Bucky grits his teeth together as the image of him above a battered Steve enters his mind. Tears continue to fill his eyes as he doesn’t let go of you.

“один. грузовой вагон.”

Tears were now flowing down his face, still he doesn’t look away from the flames. The words didn’t work.

“You are free, you are free,” Ayo said softly as Bucky looked up at her still crying, and then he looked at you. You wrapped him in your arms as he cried.

So cry tonight

But don't you let go of my hand

You can cry every last tear

I won't leave 'til I understand

Promise me, just hold my hand

With Bucky free from the Winter Soldier trigger words things seemed to be going better between you. There seemed to be some hope now behind his blue eyes that wasn’t there before. He smiled more and even started teasing you in a playful manner. What was once a hollow man was now someone who was finding himself again. Now it was Bucky’s turn to help you face your fears. He looked into your fearful eyes and told you it was time to let go of the anger.

Raise your head, look into my wishful eyes

That fear that's inside you will lift, give it time

I can see everything you're blind to now

Your prayers will be answered, let God whisper how

You sat in therapy with Bucky next to you. There you spoke of a dream you had. “It felt so real. Like I was there again. I was sparring with a Hydra agent like usual until my handler told him not to hold back. He struck me hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I was angry with every hit he landed. I waited until he started mocking me then I took him to the ground. I struck him repeatedly until I was pulled off his unconscious body. They punished me for defending myself. I think of what would have happened if I gave up. I guess I wouldn’t be here.” Your eyes shifted to look at Bucky. “I can’t explain it but I’m feeling more of myself every day I spend with Bucky. To know he is by my side, my ride or die, well I’m very lucky to have someone who wants to spend forever with me.” Tears watered in your eyes as you expressed your feelings to Bucky and the counselor. Your hand grabbed his vibranium one and held on tightly. 

To tell me you need me, I see that you're bleedin'

You don't need to show me again

But if you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you

I won't let go 'til the end

So cry tonight

But don't you let go of my hand

You can cry every last tear

I won't leave 'til I understand

Promise you'll just hold my hand

It has been several months now and you have finally finished your part of the therapy with the help from Bucky. Both of you still have worries about your past and the pain that you went through but you remind each other that you aren’t going anywhere.

Bucky looks at you and smiles. “Don’t ever give up on yourself. We will make it through this life together no matter what our past was. We can be happy again and have the future we want. Just hold my hand and don’t let go.”

I know you're scared and your pain is imperfect

But don't you give up on yourself

I've heard a story, a girl, she once told me

That I would be happy again

Hold my hand

Tags

@americasass81​​​​

@awesomerextyphoon​​​​​

@awsome262338​​​

@caffiend-queen​​​​​

@donutloverxo​​​​​

@drabblewithfrannybarnes​​​​​

@get0verit​​​

@gotnofucks​​​​​

@joannie95​​​

@jobean12-blog​​​

@miraclesoflove​​​​​

@mogaruke​​​​​

@nekoannie-chan​​​​​

@notyourtypicalrose​​​​​

@patzammit​​​​​

@plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms​​​​​

@princessofdarkwinter​​​​​

@rayofdawnworld​​​​​

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork​​​​​

@the-soulofdevil​​​​​

@what-is-your-plan-today​​​

@writercole​​​​​

@animnerd​​​​​

@stanmysoul​​​​​

@sconnie-doesnt-know​​​​​

@kitkatd7​​​

@labella420​

@mrsmischief209​

@wolfsmom1​

@lfnr-blog-blog-blog​​

@madscape​​

@mrsjobarnes​​

@caplanbuckybarnes​​

@reneeenders​​

[aew-kun-age-regression]

-Marvel Masterslist-

Moodboards

Caregiver!Peter Parker (Tom Holland)

Caregiver!Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield)

Caregiver!Matt Murdock

Caregiver!Wanda & Caregiver!Vision

Caregiver!Natasha Romanoff

Caregiver!Stephen Strange

Caregiver!Charles Xavier

Caregiver!Bruce Banner

Caregiver!Thor Odinson

Caregiver!Scott Lang

Caregiver!Peter Quill

Caregiver!Clint Barton

Caregiver!Loki Laufeyson

Caregiver!Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

Caregiver!Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

Caregiver!Gwen Stacy (Across the spiderverse)

Spiderman themed Moodboard

Regressor!Pavitr Prabhakar

Caregiver!Pavitr Prabhakar + Little!Miles Morales

Caregiver!Hobie Brown (SpiderPunk)

Caregiver!Steve Rogers

Caregiver!Stucky

Caregiver!Hobie Brown + Regressor!Pavitr Prabhakar

Caregiver!Guardians of the galaxy

Caregiver!Frank Castle

Regressor!Loki Laufeyson

Regressor!Peter Parker (Tom Holland)

Caregiver!Peter B Parker

Caregiver!Miguel O'Hara

Caregiver!Tony Stark

Caregiver!Mobius + Regressor!Loki Laufeyson

Caregiver!Mobius

Regressor!OB (Loki Series)

Regressor!Peter Parker

Caregiver!Victor Timely + Regressor!D-90 (Loki Series)

Caregiver!MJ + Regressor!Peter Parker

Caregiver!Clint Barton StimBoard

Regressor!Hercules (Comics)

Regressor!Matt Murdock

Caregiver!Old King Loki (Comics)

Caregiver!Mobius (W/ Fem Themes)

Caregiver!Erik Lehnsherr & Caregiver!Charles Xavier

Flip!Pavitr Prabhakar (Fox Themes)

Caregiver!Erik Lehnsherr

Caregiver!Hobie Brown (SpiderPunk) StimBoard

Caregiver!Matt Murdock

Caregiver!Matt Murdock StimBoard

Caregiver!Frank Castle StimBoard

Regressor!Matt Murdock

Caregiver!Wilson Fisk W/ Regressor!James Wesley

Daredevil Inspired MoodBoard

Caregiver!Bucky Barnes

Caregiver!Helmut Zemo

Regressor!Kate Bishop StimBoard

Regressor!Matt Murdock

Caregiver!Frank Castle

Story/Fanfics

Caregiver!Stucky, Platonic!Peter x Little!Reader (Loud..)

Caregiver!Stucky x Little!Reader (It's slippy..)

Caregiver!Stucky x Little!Reader (What was your favourite part?)

Caregiver!Winterwidow x Little!Reader (Snow!?)

Caregiver!Peter Parker x Little!Reader (Test..)

Caregiver!Platonic!Peter Parker x Little!Reader (Babysitter - Part 2 to "Loud..")

Caregiver!Clint Barton x Little!Kate Bishop x Little!Reader (Brave)

Caregiver!Bucky Barnes x Little!Reader (TV and Cuddles)

Caregiver!Matt Murdock x Little!Reader (Something's different..)

Caregiver!Matt Murdock, Caregiver!Frank Castle x Little!Reader (Talk to stuffies...)

Caregiver!Loki Laufeyson X Little!Reader (Mummy or daddy..?)

Caregiver!Hobie Brown (SpiderPunk) x Little!Reader (Stimming is cool!!)

Caregiver!Hobie Brown (SpiderPunk) X Little!Pavitr Prabhakar (Tea Parties!!!)

Headcannons

Caregiver!Charles Xavier Headcannons

Caregiver!Matt Murdock Headcannons

Caregiver!Bruce Banner Headcannons

Caregiver!Wade Wilson (Deadpool) Headcannons

Caregiver!Steve Rogers Headcannons

Regressor!Loki Laufeyson W/ How He Discovered Age Regression, Age Range, Favourite Agere Gear/Items, Favourite Thing To Wear And Something Unexpected About His Regression

Caregiver!Matt Murdock W/ Teaching Regressors Different Languages

Caregiver!Miguel O'Hara Headcannons

Caregiver!Frank Castle Headcannons

Regressor!Loki Laufeyson W/ If Their Regression Is Voluntary Or Involuntary

Regressor!Loki Laufeyson Headcannons

Regressor!Matt Murdock W/ Mama Bear Foggy Nelson

Regressor!Matt Murdock W/ Caregiver!Frank Castle Thoughts

Playlists

Art

Hobie Brown (SpiderPunk)

Pavitr Prabhakar

DNI Banner

Original 6 Avengers

Hobie, Gwen, Miguel, Miles and Pavitr

President Loki

Matt Murdock, Kate Bishop, Wanda Maximoff and Yelena Belova

Sam Wilson

Mobius

Old King Loki

Daredevil

Frank Castle (The Punisher)

Paci Icon

Miles Morales

Steve Rogers

Pavitr Prabhakar

Peter Parker (Tom Holland)

Mobius

Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield)

Regressor!D-90 (Loki Series)

[pascaloverx]

As It Was

Chapter Five

previous chapter next chapter

Summary: Our protagonist engages in an intriguing game with Killian, a mysterious and charming man. Meanwhile, she orchestrates a plan with Steve.

Warnings: Use of explicit language, future adult content, potential depiction of physical and verbal violence. Minors are advised not to read or engage with this story.

Personal Note: Hello dear readers, I'd like to request that you comment on the story if you enjoy it. Your opinions will be taken into consideration for the future of the fanfic. Please note that this story involves multiple romantic interests, so feel free to share your thoughts on them. I'll aim to update the fanfic every week and appreciate those who share and like this fanfic. Certainly, imagine Killian as Henry Cavill. Happy reading!

Two days after the most bizarre staff meeting I've ever had, I was on a plane with Steve Rogers. It would be obvious to assume that Dave would be with us but he took an early flight to study the environment we will be in today and make sure we could access the great Killian.        

"Going over our strategy: you and I have been dating for a short time, you want something I can't give you so it will be easy to look unhappy around Killian. He will fall for the story of the woman unhappy in the relationship and will rescue you. Your job is to keep him occupied long enough for Dave and I to break into Killian's room and bug him. Understood?" Steve says while his face almost pressed against mine. He's been ensuring that every detail of our safety on the plane is memorized by me for almost two minutes, taking precautions to make sure I feel secure. I should never have told him about my fear of heights. He went through the safety procedures three times before remembering to brief me about the mission. At least he bought me chocolate and held my hand while we were taking off.

"Should I complain to him about you telling me how boring you find me in bed, or should I save that information for our second date?" I smiled falsely as he scolded me with his gaze. This man always seems to have the humor of someone a hundred years old or more.

"Do your best to make me look like a terrible man, but remember, the best way to lie about something is to believe your own lie. There's no use lying about something that even in your imagination you don't find true." He winks quickly as I'm somewhat surprised by his response. Who would've thought Rogers knows how to be confident. 

"Understood, Captain. Lying about things I think you might be terrible at and keeping a dangerous man entertained long enough will be my objectives for tonight." I say while gently locking eyes with my mission partner.

"Maybe it's a good idea to go over some details about us, considering we're a couple. So, girlfriend, what's your zodiac sign?"

"Your first question about me is my zodiac sign? I thought you'd be more creative than that, boyfriend."

"Go with the flow and don't judge my creativity or lack thereof. By the way, I'm a Cancer, since you asked."

"Surprised you know your sign, but going along with your 'getting to know each other' questions, I'm an Aquarius. Now, my turn to ask, what's the last song you listened to?"

"Unforgettable, Nat King Cole. How about you?" He says as he sits more comfortably to face me, I feel like I'm on a quiz show. I must admit that I'm finding it amusing to go on this mission with this rather surly, blond, attractive agent?

"Ordinary People by John Legend. Favorite color?" It's fun, this question and answer game. A great distraction.

"Blue, like the ocean. I think there is an inexplicable calm in looking at the sea for a while. It makes me feel like life has meaning. Your favorite color is definitely red." Steve Rogers says as he takes a sip from his decaf coffee. An interesting fact I discovered is that despite Rogers' lifestyle requiring him to be awake as much as possible, he's trying to cut down on caffeine.

"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have been able to find that out in a dossier with my information. How did you guess?"   

"The bracelet you're wearing today, just like on our date, is red. Your dress that night was red too, and if I had to guess, I'd say your…" He analyzes me as his voice fades away, realizing he might be crossing a line. He then composes himself and asks me about my favorite book. When I respond that I really like Jane Austen's books, he smiles, commenting that he didn't picture me as someone who would be stuck between choices. We spent the next hour talking about superficial details of each other's lives. I found out that he chose a career in law enforcement because he was bullied as a child. He learned that I didn't spend much time with my dad but rather with an endless stream of babysitters. He had traveled the world, whereas I had only moved from one state to another due to my father's job. But he had never been to Turkey, where I went for my honeymoon. All thanks to my workaholic husband and an undercover mission he had to complete. After a while, I thought that for a fake relationship, we’ll need more than just knowing each other's trivia. Chemistry is necessary too. 

"Running the risk of sounding desperate for human contact, I have to point out that if we're going to pretend we've seen each other naked, it might be interesting to at least share our first kiss before that."  What's happening to me? How can I suggest kissing a man just days after kissing Barnes? Why did I want to kiss him in the first place? And why do I want to kiss Rogers now?

"I guess your logic is right. Pretending to be with someone requires physical contact, even if it's just for you to pretend to cheat on me. I also think it's necessary to see if you can do it." Rogers says somewhat arrogantly. His foreplay involves assuming that the person he's going to kiss has no experience, apparently. 

"I don't want to state the obvious, but I was already married, to someone I kissed almost constantly, so if you don't want to do this with me, at least admit that the problem is..." I can't finish the sentence because his lips are already on mine. Gently, very gently. Seconds later, it's like I want more. More of him and the taste of decaf coffee his mouth brings me. I hold onto his hair tightly, feeling our lips syncing. I swear, if a passenger hadn't faked a cough to interrupt us, I might have spent more time savoring Rogers. I was embarrassed, the idea of the kiss was mine, and I was the one who intensified it. Fortunately, we were saved by the pilot who announced that we were about to land. I settled back in my seat, not making a sound. As usual, Rogers had a serious expression, as if I had kicked him in the intimate parts. It seemed he didn't expect the kiss to be so intense either. Maybe it was his way of teaching me a lesson. I should be mad at him, but somehow, it left me more intrigued. I'll have to deal with these feelings later. For now, we have a mission to accomplish. Upon a smooth landing, we arrived at the hotel where Killian was staying to check in. I wondered if Dave made me wear a tighter, somewhat uncomfortable outfit because there was a chance Killian might already be here. Maybe having dinner with someone in the restaurant or sleeping with someone in his room. Thinking about how crucial it is to make a good impression on Killian makes me incredibly nervous. 

Just as we were about to go up to our suite, Rogers received a call. He muttered in a formal tone that he would need to take the call privately and that I should go upstairs and get ready for later. He didn't even look at me as he spoke, just headed towards the hotel entrance while I carried my suitcase. If I had known he would react like this because of a kiss, I simply wouldn't have done it. I try to pretend I'm not offended as I make my way to the elevator. I step inside, and just as I'm about to press the button, someone holds the door. Killian. His gaze is icy blue, capable of freezing my soul if he wished. His beard accentuates his mustache, and his hair seems to have been freshly trimmed. He's wearing a dark navy suit that looks more expensive than the hotel's daily rate. We're heading to the same floor, so I let him press the button. I can't help but react. In this moment, it feels like this blouse I'm wearing is going to suffocate me. I start breathing more rapidly, and he seems to have noticed.

"I usually make a strong first impression, but no one has ever been breathless just by seeing me." I end up laughing involuntarily, how embarrassing. His comment breaks the tension, and I find myself chuckling despite the awkward situation.

"Sorry to ruin your moment, but my shortness of breath is due to being stuck in this tight outfit for six hours, and I'm not a fan of confined spaces." I reply, trying to ease the awkwardness with a hint of humor. "Elevators and I don't really get along well." Killian cracks a smile, lightening the atmosphere as the elevator continues its ascent.

"You look beautiful, but if this outfit makes you uncomfortable, you should get rid of it. I stand by the philosophy that what doesn't help me needs to be eliminated." Killian says, his tone sincere. His words give me a moment of pause, contemplating the deeper meaning behind them. I find myself wondering if I inconvenience him, will he eliminate me too? The thought lingers in my mind, adding a layer of uncertainty to our encounter.

"I'll take your words into consideration and get rid of it as soon as possible." I reply, trying to sound confident despite my lingering unease. His piercing gaze softens, and he nods in understanding. The elevator dings, indicating our arrival at the desired floor, and we both step out, the tension between us momentarily dissipating.

"Should you require assistance, we reside on the same floor." Killian's voice, low and velvety, resonates with an alluring undertone. His eyes, deep pools of mystery, lock onto mine, holding a promise of secrets yet to be revealed. "Feel free to drop by anytime. Surprises tend to be quite... intriguing." he adds, a subtle smirk playing on his lips before he gracefully disappears down the hallway, leaving me captivated by his enigmatic aura. I was so captivated by him that I forgot to mention my fake boyfriend, and theoretically, I should be staying faithful to him. Damn. The realization hits me, and I can't help but feel a pang of guilt mixed with the lingering allure of Killian's mysterious charm. 

I enter the suite and I'm awestruck; the view is perfect. God bless whoever is paying for this mission. Oh, wait, that unfortunate person is partially me. But right now, my concern is getting out of these clothes and into that beautiful bathtub. Steve takes quite a while to return, giving me enough time to wash up and do my hair and makeup. But now, I'm undecided about which dress to wear. He walks into the room just as I'm staring at the clothing options for the evening.

"Regardless of the outfit you choose, you'll be perfectly appropriate for tonight. Just know that I will be leaving this room on time, whether you're dressed or not." Steve says sternly, his voice devoid of any warmth, making it clear he won't tolerate any delays. I feel a surge of indignation rising within me.

"Darling, I also consider it a blessing that you and I are having a rendezvous in Vegas, and I understand that we need to be pleasant so that a certain someone finds you attractive." I say, my tone laced with irony, making it clear that Steve should be supporting me, not treating me like a nuisance. My words hang in the air, challenging his rigid demeanor. He doesn't say anything more, just walks into the bathroom and starts showering. The nerve of this arrogant, know-it-all, irresistibly infuriating man. My anger simmers as I try to focus on getting ready, but his attitude lingers, making it difficult to shake off the irritation that courses through me. I decide to wear a black dress with golden accents and a slit down the leg. Dave has prepared incredible options to ensure I look impeccable. Despite my frustration, I can't help but appreciate his effort to make me feel confident and stylish for the evening.

Hours later, we were ready, and I would be lying if I didn't admit that Rogers looks breathtaking. He's so focused and silent that he doesn't even bother pretending he hasn't been ignoring me since the kiss. His intensity only adds to the tension in the room, making it almost palpable.

Dave sent an encrypted message to Rogers, providing directions for our next moves. According to Dave, he has the access key to Killian's room, and during the main party at the Kill of the Night club, Killian's security personnel usually tail him. This includes the hotel manager, who owes his life to Dave and happens to be an old fling of his. The intricate web of connections and secrets only deepens as our plan unfolds. 

"How can one simple, tiny, insignificant moment make you so grim?" I say as we walk toward the club. We don't make eye contact, but I can sense that if he were to look at me now, he'd have a deadly gaze. Not figuratively. There's an unresolved mysterious tension between us, and Steve seems to be struggling to contain it, his restraint only adding to the intensity of the moment. The air crackles with anticipation as we step into the nightclub, both of us acutely aware of the enigmatic emotions hanging between us.

"Are you saying our kiss was insignificant?" He stops in front of me. We're face to face, and I can feel the tense atmosphere seeping into my soul. The intensity of his gaze sends shivers down my spine, making it hard to breathe. 

"Don't pretend that I'm offending you. You're treating me like I'm a bacterial infection and you've taken antibiotics. So don't play the 'Mr. I'm offended to be called insignificant' moment with me." I retort, my words laced with a mix of frustration and defiance. 

"I'm just frustrated. That kiss wasn't professional. Nothing we've been doing since the plane feels professional. The last time I was unprofessional, I almost ended up marrying my partner and had to deal with the pain of a breakup where I constantly see my ex. I'm sorry if that insignificant moment threw me off balance." Steve admits, his voice a mix of vulnerability and raw honesty. His words hang in the air, the weight of his confession adding a layer of complexity to our already tangled emotions. 

"I know you have a bad history with unprofessionalism, but I'm not your ex. I was just trying to get closer to you. If Killian suspects anything between us, everything is at risk. So I'm sorry if it triggered something negative in you, but for now, we can pretend that moment was insignificant." I say, my voice softening with understanding. I'm trying to bridge the gap between us, to find a way to navigate the complexities of our situation while maintaining our cover. 

There's nothing more to say, but it doesn't matter anymore. We're in front of the club, so we enter into a silent agreement that we must move forward. The unspoken understanding hangs between us, and we step inside the nightclub, the pulsating music engulfing us as we immerse ourselves in the mission, temporarily setting aside the complex emotions and tensions that linger beneath the surface.A club was packed, the music thumping so loudly that it reverberated through my chest. The atmosphere was electric, a swirling mix of laughter, chatter, and the occasional burst of music. Amidst the pulsating crowd, a woman with long, brown hair approached Steve and me. Her eyes glimmered with mystery, and a sly smile played on her lips as she sized us up.Steve, for the first time, appeared visibly nervous in front of me. His usually composed demeanor faltered, revealing a crack in his facade. It was a subtle change, but I noticed; a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he exchanged a few words with the enigmatic woman. I couldn't help but wonder who she was and what role she might play in the unfolding events of the night. The air crackled with intrigue as our paths crossed, adding another layer of complexity to our mission.  

"What are you doing here?" they say simultaneously. And I realize, it's her. Peggy Carter, a respected former agent and Steve's former fiancée. The atmosphere around us shifts slightly as we acknowledge each other, the recognition of her presence adding a layer of intrigue to the already mysterious night.

"Mission, I'm undercover. You must know that Killian has been on the FBI's radar for years, and I'm here undercover." Peggy says, her tone calm and composed. The weight of her words hangs in the air, emphasizing the seriousness of the situation. There's a sense of respect between them, acknowledging the shared mission despite the complexities of our personal history.

"We're here together, on a personal trip. My love and I came to explore the beauties of Las Vegas, didn't we, dear?" I say, gently holding Steve's waist. I know he can explain the situation more clearly to her later, but for now, I need to pretend that we are indeed a couple. With my peripheral vision, I've already spotted one of Killian's guards. He could be anywhere. The need for caution hangs in the air, urging us to maintain our cover and blend in seamlessly with the crowd. 

"I didn't know you were dating. Some move on quicker than others..." Peggy remarks, her expression unreadable. The unspoken questions linger in the air, creating a palpable tension that remains unresolved. Steve and I exchange a glance, silently reaffirming our commitment to the mission and the need to maintain our cover, even in the face of unexpected encounters.

"You know when it's meant to be, it just is.” Steve finally regains his composure, uttering these words with a touch of irony. I glance at him, smiling faintly, but our attention quickly shifts as we spot Killian. I have a plan. I'll make Steve leave me for Peggy right in front of Killian, and he'll want to console me. Fingers crossed, I think, hoping my scheme will unfold smoothly in this high-stakes game of deception. 

"I think it's a lot of information to process so quickly. How about you ask her to dance while I go get us some drinks, love?" I say, giving Steve a peck on the cheek and casting a glance towards Killian, who is watching our direction. Steve understands my cue and extends his hand towards Peggy, inviting her to dance. The plan is in motion, and I hope it plays out as intended, creating the distraction we need for our mission. I try to appear upset as I watch Peggy and Steve dancing together, and in the end, maybe I do feel a twinge of oddity about it. Nevertheless, I forge ahead, pretending not to notice that Killian is nearby as I make my way to the bar. Keeping my emotions in check, I focus on the mission, ordering drinks and keeping a vigilant eye on the surroundings, ready for whatever challenges might come our way.

I order a Negroni sbagliato with prosecco at the bar, watching the bubbles of the prosecco dance on the red surface of the cocktail. I feel the blend of bitter and citrusy flavors dance on my tongue as I keep my gaze fixed on the glass, trying to ignore Killian's presence as he approaches with his intoxicating charm. Killian glides over with inherent elegance, his piercing blue eyes locked onto mine. I shiver down my spine as he smiles enigmatically, as if he's reading my thoughts. His voice is smooth and melodic as he addresses me, creating an aura of mystery that completely envelops me. While we observe Peggy and Steve from a distance, a silent game of glances and unspoken words unfolds between us, making the atmosphere even more charged with tension and intrigue. 

"Is this seat taken?" Killian says, his eyes locked onto mine, a faint smile playing on his lips. I smile back, pointing to the seat beside me while taking a sip of my drink, feeling a rush of confidence as I play my part in this intricate charade. He's dressed in a dark, casually stylish outfit, incredibly suave. I can't help but notice his strong hands, confidently holding the whiskey glass. The way he moves with assurance throughout the space exudes an air of mystery and elegance. His posture is impeccable, and his gestures are calculated, as if each movement is a carefully orchestrated part of his intriguing charm. Shadows play on his face, enhancing his striking features, while his gaze, deep and penetrating, seems to conceal secrets known only to him. He stands as an enigmatic figure amidst the crowd, a true master in the art of disguise and seduction.

"I thought a man who so openly showcases his ability to entertain visitors to assist ladies in uncomfortable outfits would already be accompanied at this hour." I say, my tone laced with a subtle challenge, testing the waters to gauge his reaction. 

"Perhaps I was expecting a visitor who didn't show up. I'm pleased to see you managed to look stunning and comfortable after our first encounter." he says, his voice smooth as silk, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. His words are laden with meaning, implying a certain level of appreciation for my appearance while keeping the conversation tantalizingly ambiguous. I offer a gracious smile in return, acknowledging his compliment with a nod, all the while maintaining the facade of our supposed connection.

"Perhaps I was expecting a visitor who didn't show up. I'm pleased to see you managed to look stunning and comfortable after our first encounter." he says, his voice smooth as silk, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. His words are laden with meaning, implying a certain level of appreciation for my appearance while keeping the conversation tantalizingly ambiguous. I offer a gracious smile in return, acknowledging his compliment with a nod, all the while maintaining the facade of our supposed connection.

"I appreciate your compliment, but I must mention for the future of this conversation that I am currently romantically involved." I reply, my tone polite but firm. The statement hangs in the air, drawing a subtle boundary between us, a reminder of the line that shouldn't be crossed. Killian nods in understanding, his enigmatic smile never wavering, but there's a glint of intrigue in his eyes, as if he enjoys the challenge presented by my words. 

"Such a pity, for your romantic interest, that is…" he says, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Luckily, I'm neither jealous nor monogamous." His words carry a certain daring, a challenge thrown my way as he tests my reaction. I maintain a composed facade, acknowledging his statement with a polite nod, while inwardly noting the intrigue and complexity of the situation. The conversation between us takes on a subtle dance, each word and gesture laden with a delicate balance of power and intrigue. 

"From where I'm standing, you seem to be the kind of trouble a good girl should run from. Fortunately for you, I'm not always good." I reply, my tone carrying a hint of playfulness, masking the underlying tension that simmers beneath our exchange. 

As we finish our drinks, he asks me if I'd like to join him for a dance. And in that moment, I know the mission is finally about to begin. With a nod and a faint, seductive smile, I accept his invitation, my eyes locking onto his with an alluring intensity. There's a spark of curiosity in Killian's gaze, as if he's captivated by the mystery that surrounds me. The dance floor beckons, and with each step, I draw him deeper into the web of intrigue. The night is still young, and the game has only just begun.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the soaring arrow

fused with the foe, chapter two

a/n: we getting somewhere in this one... progress... and by progress, i of course mean that we are one chapter closer to when they finally get to be happy and in love.

summary: “…do you still wanna learn?”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, violence, gore, injury, weapons, big scary dire bear, a bit of a cliffhanger of an ending to this chapter (the drama is here, it has arrived, in the majestic for of [spoiler])

word count: 4706

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

info about the world | maps | pinterest board | playlist

masterlist | join my taglist

Rising yet again from the plush stool, your feet carried you the short distance back around to the opposing seat. Your elbow came to rest against the edge of the small games table as you glanced down at the chequered board and your chin swiftly found your propped-up palm as a bored breath seeped from your lungs. 

As you moved one of the ivory pieces, the thoughts you’d been trying to keep at bay for weeks slipped through ever so slightly. The king hadn’t talked to you since the wedding, in fact, whenever you’d been in the same room with each other, his gaze never found you. 

You might as well have been invisible.

The arm beneath your face slowly melted down till it layed flat against the table and you let your head follow along. Slumped over, your cheek pressed against your forearm. 

Raising your gaze from your up-close perspective of the chess pieces, it fell upon the man leaning 

against the wall by the exit. Dark locks only half tied up, a crossbow was strapped to his broad back as his stormy gaze stayed low and locked on the small dagger he absentmindedly twirled and flipped in his fingers.

Letting out another sigh, you didn’t bother straightening out before you asked, “so, is this just how it’s gonna be?”

Halting his fiddling, Barnes’ eyes met yours, “pardon me, your majesty?”

“You just lurking wherever I am, is that how it’s gonna be for the rest of my life?” you lifted yourself only slightly so that both of your palms pressed into your soft cheeks to prop it up. 

“No, I’m just here till you get settled, then I’ll go back to my usual business,” the advisor stated. 

“And when will that be?”

“I don’t know, your majesty,” he sheathed the short blade at his side, “why? If it’s because you don’t care for my presence then please just say so, I won’t be offended if you’d rather have a different warden looking out for you.”

“No,” you sat up properly, “it’s not that, not at all, I just–… could I maybe go for a walk?” the question hesitantly left your lips. 

“Sure, you can,” he nodded slightly, “where do you wanna go? I could show you the Valarian Ward in town, there are lots of museums there you might like–”

“No,” you cut his offer off, “I meant if I could go for a walk on my own.”

“Oh… well, I’m not entirely sure that’s the best idea…” he uttered carefully. 

“I am your queen, aren’t I? So, can’t I just command you to let me go by myself?” you tried, blinking up at him like a little puppy, “please, Barnes.”

A low sigh then flowed from his lips as his stare raked across the floor. A moment passed before he opened his mouth again, slowly saying as his gaze stayed averted, “your majesty, I am gonna leave for a moment, I suddenly remembered that I forgot something in my chambers this morning. Please excuse me as I momentarily won’t be here watch where you go,” his eyes flicked up to meet yours, “you got that?” 

“Yes,” a bright smile stretched across your features, “I understand what you’re saying,” as you instantly shot up to your feet, “thank you, Barnes.” 

Though half regretting his choice already, he still offered you a half-hearted smile, “you’re welcome, your majesty.”

Bending down, you plucked a long-stemmed daisy and added it to the bouquet of wildflowers your left fist was tightly enclosed around. As you lifted yourself back up, your vision washed over the blossoming meadow you stood on, located on the hill directly north of the castle. From here only parts of the seaside community were perceivable, as from this angle the mountainous fortress blocked off the vast majority of Borün city, only the edges closest to the main road, like the city stables and the water mill, caught your gaze. But the farmlands that curved over the rolling hills west of the town had no obstructions in their path. The vision of golden fields as well as wide pens that housed both fuzzy brown cows and round little sheep, that blissfully soaked in the mild afternoon sun, couldn’t help but bring a smile to your lips. 

Peeking over your shoulder, the warnings of the king’s right-hand man faintly echoed in your mind as you glanced at the thick forest. Temptation had swayed your feet to carry you dangerously close to the edge. The Noll woods didn’t seem that dangerous from this angle, perhaps it was safe enough on the perimeter and it was just the dangers deep within it that they were so terrified of. So, the next thing you knew, your leisurely stride had crossed the meadow and the dark wilderness had swallowed you whole. 

Extending an arm as your feet slowly walked over the crunchy leaves and the pillowy moss clusters, you felt the cool leaves brush against your open palm, almost as if you were greeting each and every one of them as you passed. The chirping birds high up in the dense treetops sang a pleasant melody that caused a bright smile to bloom on your lips. 

You weren’t sure how long you ventured forth, deeper and deeper into the twisted forest, but eventually, a small and speckled bush caught your eye, ripe with the vibrant berries you recognised from the layered cake that you had been served for tea just a few days prior. The fabric of the long burgundy cloak you wore billowed behind you as you rushed to pluck the small fruits. A soft hum vibrated at your lips as you tasted their tart sweetness, popping them in your mouth one by one. 

Though just as your head was up in the clouds, over the moon about this little slice of paradise you had discovered, a low growl emanated from the tall shrubs just behind the berry bush. Your fingers froze in an instant and the fruits in your berry-stained palm rolled to the ground. Slowly, you raised your gaze as a giant snout pushed through the dense plants and the creature’s rotten breath fanned across your cheeks, causing your stomach to churn. 

Holding your breath, petrified with fear, you willed your feet to shuffle back at a terrifyingly slow pace. Your entire body trembled like a leaf on the wind as your eyes stayed glued on the dark animal slowly creeping into the clearing. 

A bear, though at least three times the size of any normal one, came stomping into the light. Its footsteps were heavy enough to make the forest floor quake. Long and gnarly teeth curled up over its drooping lip as viscus slobber, and what looked like blood, dripped from its gums, staining the blades of grass below with every hefty step. Nowhere on its scarred skull were something that resembled eyes, so as it sniffed loudly, your hair nearly rustling in the gust, the blind monster detected precisely where you stood.

A snarl rumbled out from its toothy maw as it clawed closer to you like a predator playing with its food just before it pounced. Eclipsing the dabbled sunlight that streamed in through the tree canopy, the massive creature blocked off any chance you had of escape. The petrifying roar it then let out caused your hands to instinctively shoot up in front of your face. 

Falling back, you collided with the thick tree trunk right behind you. Adrenaline pumped so furiously throughout your body that the tree almost felt like a pillow, as your body was so filled with terror that it didn’t let you notice any of the pain. 

Through your shielding fingers, you caught sight of a swift movement, though it wasn’t the ravaging bear before you. From out of nowhere a broad figure suddenly appeared, slipping in between you and the creature. 

Your eyes widened as you saw the king hold a shield up high, groaning from the strain as he blocked the monster’s mighty attack. Drawing a stout axe at his belt, he sliced it low, catching one of the bear’s legs and causing it to reel back enough for him to bash the shield against its snout, sending it back a few paces. The arching blows he then landed on the gnawing beast were a brutal blur to your eyes as he didn’t yield till the monster was slain and its blood stained the mossy forest floor. 

Slowly turning to face you, crimson dabbled his features and tainted his beard as he stared you down and roared, “what the hell were you thinking?” his broad chest still heaved from the battle as he took a step closer to you, “you’re not in Obelón anymore, you can’t just wander off!”

“I–… I’m sorry,” you said weakly, your eyes felt heavy as you stumbled to distance yourself from the tree trunk, “I didn’t–”

“You didn’t what?” inching closer, he sheathed his weapons, “think you’d bump into a dire bear? What if it had been something worse, huh? What then? Do you have any idea of what kind of dangers lurk in these shadows?”

Black spots dappled your vision as you just managed a faintly utter, “I’m s-sorr–,” before you collapsed. 

As the king caught you in his arms, your cloak unfurled to reveal the silks of your gown ripped and peeking out from the shreds was a grave wound on your waist. 

When you finally woke up, you weren’t in the forest any longer, but warm under the covers in your own bed.

You weren’t sure what you noticed first, the familiar surroundings or the sharp sting that throbbed at your side. Wincing silently, you pulled down the blankets and saw the clean cloths that bandaged the injury. As you carefully ran a fingertip over the dressing, a figure at the foot of the bed caught your hazy gaze. 

Slumped over on a small stool with his head resting against his folded-up arms, there sat the king, completely out cold. 

A clay pitcher of water stood on the adjacent bedside table beside a few empty cups that had a deep green tint to the glass. Carefully, as to not rouse the slumbering monarch, you reached for the jug in order to quench the thirst that scratched at your throat. As your fingertips brushed against the handle and moved it just a tad, an aching wave suddenly washed over you as the attempt stretched and disturbed your injured waist enough for you to recoil back, accidentally tugging at the decanter in the process and retroactively knocking over one of the nearby glasses.

As soon as it smashed to the stone floor, the king bolted up like he’d been struck by lightning. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you rushed as you clutched your throbbing side and leaned back against the pillows, “I just wanted something to drink.”

Still groggy, he sucked in a breath as he squinted over at you in the bed, “don’t move,” his voice was deep from sleep, “I’ll get it,” and he reached over to fill up the glass that didn’t fall to its doom, “here,” handing it to you, his eyes stayed on you as you took a sip, “how are you feeling?”

Lowing the drink to your lap, you watched the water ripple gently in the glass as you uttered, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking I’d run into any monsters, I just wanted to see the forest. I’ve never been in a real forest before, so I just–… I’m sorry…”

A low sigh flowed from the king’s lips before he asked, “how are you feeling, dove? Does it hurt badly? Because I can fetch you some herbs if it does.” 

“It’s not pleasant, but I’ll manage,” as you always did. Your pain tolerance was through the roof when it had to be, “I’m sorry.”

“Would you please stop apologising?” your tense gaze finally flickered up to meet his, “I understand you wandering out on your own, I even understand you wanting to explore the forest, but what I don’t understand is why you didn’t bring a weapon with you. I know you don’t know too much about this kingdom, but you must have a basic understanding of just how dangerous it is, especially The Noll Woods. So why didn’t you bring anything to protect yourself with?”

“What?” you blinked, “I don’t own a weapon.” 

Eyes widening, his brows shot up, “you don’t?” 

“No…” you shifted lightly under his gaze, “why are you looking at me like that?” 

Leaning forward slightly, he asked, “dove, do you not know how to fight?” 

“Why would I know how to fight?” 

“Why would you–…” he echoed faintly before lowing his gaze to the blankets spread out on the canopy bed, “gods, I knew that Obelón’s high walls helped protect its people from many creatures, but I know even that doesn’t stop the citizens from knowing the basics at least. Why didn’t you ever?” he found your eyes once more, “you’re of royal birth. Why haven’t you been in lessons since you were a child?” 

Shifting your grasp around the glass, you uttered, “…my father wouldn’t let me…” your brows were still deeply knitted as you said, “I thought it was improper for fine ladies to have such skills.” 

“It’s not,” he shook his head, “trust me. Some of the best fighters I’ve ever known were fine ladies such as yourself.” 

“Really?” you couldn’t help but inch forward a bit. 

“Yeah, my mom for one taught me a lot of what I know, as well as–…” an unreadable expression briefly washed over his features as his sentence suddenly crumbled, “well, others…” 

“I always wanted to learn,” you thought back, “used to spy on my brothers when they were training, even tried to convince Callum to teach me in secret, but none of it ever worked out… my dad always found out and then he’d–…” your gaze stayed locked on the outline of your legs beneath the covers as you felt a shiver run down your spine, “I, uhm… I learned to stop doing that. Going against his rules.” 

After he helped you place the glass back beside the pitcher, the king’s deep timbre filled the chamber once more, “…do you still wanna learn?”

The gentle wind kissed your cheeks as you squinted your eyes at the circular target close to the ivy-covered outer wall of the front courtyard. Though the training area stood nestled between the warden’s barracks and the royal stables, the king’s right-hand man had ensured that there wouldn’t be as many people crowding the common area as there usually were, a gesture you’d become thankful for as the act of learning an entirely new skill was intimidating enough without having the added commotion of experts in the field directly next to you, granting you the perspective of just how green you were. 

Over countless days, bedridden in your chambers, the wound to your side had scabbed over and healed nearly completely. Though the wait was significant, it hadn’t felt that dreary, since at the first dawn you woke, the king’s presence had been exchanged for a tall stack of meticulously selected books. The majority of them were factual records about Eflorr, the land, the history, everything that had been out of your fingertips in the library of your birthplace. But occasionally in between the tomes of the kingdom were books of completely different genres. There was a wide and worn book of fables that had whimsical illustrations on each page, a pocket-sized novel counting the mystery of a fictional rogue, as well as a collection of flowery poems. 

Letting the nocked arrow fly, it didn’t pierce itself into the bullseye your eyes were boring a hole into, but instead joined the cluster lodged in the ground. 

“I am never gonna get this,” you muttered, nearly tossing the training bow from you. 

“Oh, don’t lose hope yet, your majesty,” you twisted your neck to see Barnes standing by the small, open-style stables adjacent to where you stood, petting the cheek of the black horse that stuck its head over the fence, “you’ve only been going for a few days.” 

Drawing another arrow from the quiver not yet strapped to your back, but simply resting on the small stool scooted close, you attempted once more, and though it didn’t hit the target, the arrowhead did wedge itself in between two of the stones on the wall behind it. 

“Not bad,” your body jumped at the unexpected voice, “you’re getting closer.”

Spinning around, you saw the king, arms crossed and leaning against the building directly behind you, “your majesty!” your eyes grew to the size of saucers, “h-hello.”

“You need to relax your bow arm more,” he pushed himself off of the wall and walked up to you. 

“What?” you blinked, still slightly stunned and scrambling to catch up to the fact that he was even there. 

“Here,” he stepped up behind you and a sharp breath of air filled your lungs as his touch found the limb clutching the bow, “you need to relax this arm,” his presence ghosted against your spine as his touch adjusted your appendage to the proper angle, “and lower it just a bit,” plucking up an arrow, he too nocked it for you and let his fingers linger over yours as you drew the string back tight, “use the corner of your lips as an anchor,” as the feathery fletching tickled your cheek, you could have sworn that you felt his curled knuckle shyly brush against your features as well, “and since you’re not very brawny, try and keep a bit of tension right here, it’ll help,” his hand slid down to your waist, the other palm briefly joining on the other side before he let go of you. You could feel the gentle gust of his breath on the shell of your ear as his low voice instructed you, “give it a try.”

The arrow then soared through the air and lodged itself into the outermost ring of the target, “oh my gods,” you squealed, your body victoriously wiggling at the sight, “I did it!”

“Atta girl,” he smiled at the result, and you turned your head to gaze back at him, the fact that he hadn’t shifted back yet caused a shiver to crawl up your spine, “see? I knew you could do it,” his eyes finally flickered down to yours, though when the close proximity dawned on him, only a second passed before his feet began to move, “anyways,” clearing his throat, his vision now seemed to wander over anything but you, “uhm… good job,” he offered your upper arm a small pat, “keep it up,” then turned to the high warden still off to the side, “Buck, I need you to take a look at something for me, up in the war room.”

Giving the horse one last scratch, Barnes answered his friend, “sure thing.”

“You know the king well, correct?” you asked the soldier as he walked with you down to breakfast. At this point, you’d gotten fairly used to Barnes acting as your shadow.

“You could say that,” the corners of his lips curled up in a soft smile, “my mom was a servant here at the castle, so I essentially grew up alongside him. Then as soon as I was old enough, I joined the wardens, partly just to stay at his side. So yes, I do know him well,” he nodded slowly, “I know him very well.”

Rounding the corner, you walked down a long hallway with windows facing out toward the sea all along the right wall. Motes of dust hung suspended in the morning sunbeams that spilt into the hall, perfectly still, like flakes of gold leaf trapped in resin.

Glancing over at him once more as you stepped through one of the golden rays, you slowly opened your mouth once more, “can I ask something?”

“You can ask me anything you’d like,” he met your eye. 

“Does–…” you hesitated a moment before averting your gaze to gather up the courage to utter, “does the king have someone else?”

Gently cocking his head, Barnes echoed, “someone else?”

“Does he have someone else?” you repeated, sensing heat creep up in your cheeks.

“Oh, uh,” he breathed as you reached the end of the hallway and he stretched out his arm to push open the door you’d arrived at, “no, not that I know of.”

As he opened the door to the smaller of the dining rooms for you to enter, you noticed that you’d been unconsciously gnawing at the inner part of your bottom lip till it nearly bled and you forced yourself to stop, “alright…”

When you crossed over the threshold, Barnes stayed put on the other side, though offered you a small nod before the heavy doors fell shut behind you. 

Turning to face the long table centred in the chamber, your eyes suddenly grew wide as an unexpected figure sat on the far end. 

“Good morning,” the king glanced up at you as he popped the piece of strawberry lodged on the tip of his fork into his mouth. 

“Your majesty! I–, I–…” you blinked a second, finding it impossible to get your feet to move the last few paces over to your set place, “I thought you took your breakfast up in your personal chambers.”

“Felt like a change in scenery today,” he plucked up a porcelain cup filled with steaming tea and brought it to his lips, though paused before taking a sip, “is that alright?”

“Of course, it is,” a shudder ran through you as you shook yourself out of your stupor and sat down at the table. 

A generous spread of options layed arced around your empty plate. From seasonal fruits, cut up and arranged on an oblong platter, to hearty bread, sliced and toasted, propped up for it to stay crisp, the selection never ceased to make your belly rumble in want. 

When your plate was filled up and you slowly began to pick away at it, the king’s voice suddenly echoed from the other end of the table. 

“Are you busy this afternoon?”

“Busy?” you lifted your gaze and sent it down past the short floral centrepiece to look at him, “no, your majesty, not in particular. Why do you ask?”

His elbow was propped against the edge of the table and his hand gently rested against his beard as he continued to stare at you, “I was wondering if you’d care to promenade with me.”

“I know it doesn’t look like much from this angle,” the king pointed to the dark cave entrance on the cliff that the castle stood upon, “but that emergency exit has saved countless monarchs.”

“So, the tunnel leads up to the basement?” you glanced down to the part of the coastline still a ways further down the pebbly beach.

“Yep, opens up into the wine cellar, it’s actually one of the racks that’s concealed as the door down.”

Glancing up at him as you slowly walked beside one another, an amused smile curled up on your lip, “clever.”

“Yeah, my mom thought so, she was the one who implemented it.”

The corners of your lips then dropped back down, and you waited a second before asking softly, “when did she pass?”

“A while ago now…” his vision briefly flickered down to look at the waves foam at the shore, “anyways, I’d recommend taking a guide with you if you’re gonna go exploring in the cave because it can be easy to get lost if you didn’t grow up with it as your playground.” 

“I’ll remember that,” a faint chuckle bubbled out of you.

The pebbles crunched beneath your slow stride as you made your way down the beach, closer and closer to where the fort loomed and the docks beyond flourished into the bustling city. 

After he’d bent down to pick up a smooth, dark rock, the royal then spoke in a slightly apprehensive tone, “hey, I actually wanted to talk to you about something…”

Noticing that his stride had halted, you stopped as well, “yes, your majesty?”

His gaze stayed on the small rock in his palm as he turned it a few times, “I know I haven’t exactly been the warmest towards you, I haven’t given you any solid reason to trust or even like me,” his ocean eyes then lifted to meet yours, “but we are supposed to rule together, be a team. So, I propose that we call a truce. Let’s start over and try and be friends,” his broad hand then extended. 

Clasping your fingers around his palm, you shook on it, “truce,” and a small smile bloomed as you then returned to your walk.

Your eyes didn’t stray long from him, staring at him inquisitively till he, on a glance, noticed.

“What?”

“It’s just,” you squinted over at the man walking beside you, the water gentle and calm behind him, “I don’t even really know you…”

“Well,” he breathed, as if that setback was easy enough to remedy, “what would you like to know?”

“I don’t know…” as you continued to stare at him, your fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the opalescent stone attached to the chain hanging from your neck, “tell me everything.”

“Everything?” his eyebrows raised a second before he exhaled lowly, “alright… uhm,” he then lowered his gaze as he scrambled his brain, “my favourite colour is blue. I can’t stand pears,” he began to list off, “I know I don’t look it now, but I was a very scrawny kid, sick all the time. I’m excellent at skipping rocks, actually learned how to just down there from an old family friend. What else… uh, I don’t have a lot of free time, but the little I do, I tend to either read, history in particular, as well as draw or paint, whenever I have the chance.”

“Paint?” you chuckled as that was one of the last things you thought he’d say. 

“Yes,” he nodded, “not many, but a few of my pieces are strung up around the castle.”

“I will have to keep my eye out for those, your majesty,” you smiled. 

“Oh, and please, no more of that,” he pleaded, “you shouldn’t call me your majesty any longer, we’re friends now,” he momentarily turned to toss the rock into the rippling sea, and a small ring bloomed on the surface as it delved in, “you are my wife,” the corners of his lips tugged upwards as he faced you once more, “you should call me by my name.”

“Alright, Steve,” the name felt oddly intimate on your tongue, “I’ll try my best to do better.”

As he smiled down at you, a shadow suddenly soared across the sky above both of your heads. Lifting your eyes to the clouds above, they swiftly went wide in fear as you saw the creature that flew straight towards the village. 

“Oh gods, is that a–”

“Dragon,” Steve uttered before you could. 

The winged behemoth of a beast had scales like the darkest tree bark, but in the sunlight it soared through, they shined regally like an oil spill. 

Grabbing you by the hand as warning bells rang out over the seaside community, Steve dragged you with him and he addressed the two wardens that had lingered a few paces back while you both were out, “take her inside, through the cave, stay low, away from any windows.”

“Yes, my liege,” they swiftly replied and moved to defend you, but as the king’s grasp left yours, you reached out to halt him.

“Wait!” your fingers rushed to snag your lucky charm off, “here,” and you layed the fine necklace into his open palm before finding his eyes one last time and uttering, “please don’t die.”

Closing his fist around the jewel, he offered you a grave nod before the wardens led you into the cave and the king rushed down the banks and up the algae-slick steps that led up to the harbour. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[bean-bean2000]

The Maid Part 2

Pairing: Loki x reader (on going series)

Warnings: Angst, abuse, mental health (depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts). Eventual loki x reader pairing. Reader is a maid.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Part 1 Series masterlist Main Masterlist

🧹🧹🧹

You wake up to the Snake throwing you out of your cot.

"Witch! You dare to sleep in? Get up and start working NOW!" he yells at you.

You groan in pain as you try getting up and starting the day. The medicine Banner gave you is working wonders; you feel none of the pain and your wrist has significantly healed overnight.

You make your way to the kings wing when the Snake corners you against a wall.

"The king has asked me to send you another personal message." he sneers. Your eyes widen in fear when he suddenly slaps you across the face. You feel the wound in your lip split open again, the now familiar metallic taste filling your mouth. He grabs your cheeks with one hand and squeezes painfully.

"Watch your back, witch. I'm watching your every step." he threatens.

He throws you to the floor and walks away, as you gather your items and continue to the kings quarters, refusing to let him see you in pain.

Silent tears are brimming your eyes. You blink them away and take a shaky breath.

I don't know how much longer I can take this.

You manage to complete your tasks within the allotted time given you to by King Loki. You leave his wing with a long sigh of relief, praying that you never have to see him again.

A few weeks go by as you manage to do your work properly and on time to avoid the king. However, the guard Snake, seems intent on making you fail, on breaking you into submission. Without reprieve, he has consistently targeted you every night, to limit your capabilities. Your response and demeanour remains the same: silent and emotionless. As a result, the pain compounded, the prevention of your body to receive time to heal made you weaker. Last night was the worst, as you were too weak and in pain to fight back. You return to Banner, who provides you with more medication but insists that something must be done to stop them from this continuous abuse. You say nothing as you stare back at him, knowing there is nothing either of you can do. You've been sold to the crown to pay for your parent's debt and there was no way out.

The next day, you wake up in unbearable pain. You look in the mirror and curse at yourself. You eye is a deep purple, yellow and green on the outskirts where your nose and eyebrow is. You had fogotten to apply the balm last night, as you had slipped into unconsciousness after the traumatic events of the night.

You decide to wear a shawl over your head and to keep your eyes to the ground while you walk around the castle to the King's wing. You manage to get through most of the work without seeing anyone. When you get to the king's chambers, you close the door behind you and tighten the shawl around.

You start your work, slowly moving around. You still have a limp from the pain in your ankle after the guards had stomped on it the other night.

You work your way around his chambers, focused on cleaning the large windows. You're slowly stepping up on the tall stool with one foot and hanging the other in the air to avoid putting pressure on it. You slowly lift your arms but hiss in pain from the stretch of your bruised ribs. You're shaking with every movement as you clean. You're so focused on ignoring the pain and cleaning that the sudden sound of a throat clearing behind you makes you jump in fear. You yelp as you try to steady yourself but put too much pressure on your ankle and begin falling to the floor when you're suddenly wrapped in strong arms and behind helped back up onto your feet.

You see a flash of green as you're being pulled up and immediate know who it is. You look down at your shoes.

"Sorry darling, I didn't mean to scare you." Loki says with amusement.

You stay quiet as you stare at the floor. You feel his stare boring into you.

"Not much of a talker I see... very well, continue on with your work. I've been pleased so far, so please continue." He says as he steps to the side to let you get back to the windows.

From the corner of your eye, you see him grab the book from his night stand and sit on his bed.

He notices your hesitancy "Don't mind me, I will simply be reading. He turns his head down to the book.

You swallow thickly, anxiety seeping into your bones. All of the rumours you've heard of his cruelty creep into your mind and you start to shake. You force yourself to calm down and return to your work.

Keeping your down as you do not want him to see your bruises on your face, they're especially brutal this time. You turn to the stool and begin stepping up on it. Leaning on the wall, you put one leg up and look behind you quickly to make sure the king doesn't see you as you grip the wall and jump up a level of the stool on one foot. You keep the second foot flat on the stool, but put no pressure on it, to avoid suspicion and keep the pain at bay. You grab the cloth in your hand and stretch yourself slowly to reach the top of the glass and move your arm slowly side to side. You stretch too far and groaning loudly in pain as you retract and pause to take a deep breath. You don't dare look behind you. You know he heard you but you refuse to acknowledge it.

You try again and start cleaning the windows, moving your arm side to side and manage to finish without hissing out loud in pain. You're biting the inside of your cheek as you start lowering yourself from the stool. You pause to grip the wall again and hop down the first step, you miss it and instinctively put your pained ankle down to prevent from falling. As soon as your foot steps on the stool, you yelp in pain and jump off the stool, gripping the wall to steady yourself. Your head is down, you're breathing rapidly, knuckles turning white as you try to regulate your breathing.

You're so focused on waiting for the pain to go away that you don't hear Loki get up and walk up behind you until you feel his hand on your elbow.

You stiffen at the touch.

"Turn around." he orders you.

You feel tears forming in your eyes. This is it. He's going to send me to the dungeons and have me killed or tortured, or worse. You swallow hard and slowly turn around on one foot while staring at the floor.

"Look at me." he orders you again.

You slowly lift your head up and look at him. You see his eyes widen slightly and his jaw tick.

"What happened?" he commands.

His eyes are a deep green, you can see the emotion behind them.

What do I say? I can't tell him what's happening... he will never believe me. I'm a simple maid. Who am I to snitch or accuse a royal guard?

"I slipped and fell." you reply queitly.

A lie. He can taste it. He looks at you and slits his eyes as he ponders your answer.

"You mean to tell me, you slipped and fell in such a way that split your lip, gave you a black eye and seriously sprained your ankle almost the brink of it being broken?" he asks you incredulously.

"It was a very bad fall your highness." you say queitly.

He chuckles at your answer "You know I am the God of Lies and Mischief, and yet you still choose to lie to me. I do not take you for a fool. You speak eloquently, you seem somewhat educated and intelligent. Yet, you still lie to me."

You swallow thickly and sway slightly out of anxiety.

"Apologies your highness. It was not meant in ill-will."

He sighs deeply "I can smell Dr. Banner's healing balm on your skin. He created it for me, to numb the pain while I am at war. Why would a 'simple maid' such as yourself need the balm?....I will ask you one last time, what happened?"

You're shaking, his eyes look you up and down with concern.

You remain quiet. Too fearful to lie or say the truth.

He sighs deeply "You refuse to answer my question again? You understand the consequences of such disrespectful actions towards a royal. Why?" he questions.

You shift again "I can't lie if i remain quiet, your highness."

He stops and stares at you. He is shocked by your answer. His eyes shimmer and lips curly slightly into a smirk; he's impressed.

"Very well... You may leave now."

He watches you limp to the closet, put the supplies away and lower the shawl over your face again.

You bid him farewell and take your leave.

When you leave his chambers he can't help but wonder about you.

She lied. I know she did. Who does she fear so intently that she is willing to lie to her king for? Something isn't right here. Her eyes... they looked empty....

He paces his room and stares out his window, coming up with a plan to figure out what is happening within his kingdom's walls.

🧹🧹🧹

Part 3

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is always welcome. Feel free to send me suggestions for scenes/drabbles that I could add into the stroy :)

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!

@gruftiela

@elegantcheesecakecrown

[buckets-and-trees]

Congrats again on 300 my love ❤️❤️ so you may already know which AU I’m going to be requesting, because it’s my favourite story of yours (so far) and that is Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree!! This story made my heart ache and if you have the inspiration for it I’d love love love to see more!! I don’t want to restrict your imagination by being too specific, but literally anything with those two and I would die of happiness 💙💙

Em, I squealed when you dropped this into my box for the request fest! Partly because I adore you. Partly because you know I also really adore Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree. And partly I squealed out of terror because...I was worried I wouldn't be able to do any kind of follow up to this fic justice. But I took a deep breath and let that go and decided to just let whatever happen happen. I was also a little worried because when I wrote Cedar Tree, it felt very finished, so I didn't have any leftover thoughts to pick up and play around with, so I literally took that first week to just think about them and their story. And then... a lot of scenes started to emerge - stuff before and after Cedar Tree, stuff that was just them, stuff with the people around them.

This is where I landed for now. It's not the same as Cedar Tree - first thing being that it's told from Steve's perspective instead of the reader's - but I'm thinking it will make sense in their overall narrative.

This it the end of their honeymoon, a few weeks before Cedar Tree.

Fandom: MCU Title: The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are Characters/Pairings: King!Steve Rogers x female!Queen!Reader, brief Sam and Bucky Word Count: 1.2k Summary: The final night and morning of King Steven's royal honeymoon.

Content Warnings: brief sexual relations (p in v)

Additional Notes: The third offering to celebrate 300 followers with the request fest! While this depicts events before Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree, it does not stand alone and should be read AFTER reading the original piece. Song title inspiration from Better Love by Hozier, which is one of the songs on my original Cedar Tree writing playlist. A/N 2: This still is pretty arbitrary, but although I knew the original was a historical royal AU setting, I basically closed my eyes and pointed when I ended up saying it was medieval. I debated between medieval or Georgian/regency vibe, but NOW it's decidedly Georgian, which will be more relevant if/as I share more of their story in the future.

It’s as he’s on his back, staring at the ceiling, that Steve realizes he’s already deciphered the difference between how it sounds when you’re asleep, when you’re awake, and when you’re somewhere in between. He didn’t expect that.

He expected a lot of things after taking you as his queen, but there were so many small things that make sense, but he simply hadn’t thought of, like this – knowing so quickly the sounds of your breathing.

Ten days and in some ways he knew so much more about you than he knew about anyone else but himself – more than he’d known about his parents, than Bucky whom he’d grown up with and trusted else as his closest friend and advisor, more than his general Sam who he trusted with the security of his kingdom and his own life.

The betrothal, the brief period of engagement, the wedding, and the wedding feast had all been very public and formal. The moment the two of you had entered the royal carriage to make the journey to his small palace in the lake country for the honeymoon, everything was suddenly private and intimate. It was the first time Steve had truly been alone with you, and the first moments alone would have been awkward – he certainly hadn’t thought about that moment until suddenly the two of you were there alone – but you had clearly thought of the circumstance in advance and had been prepared to make easy conversation. While the first few minutes had been an effort to make conversation, they swiftly did progress to easy conversation. The topics had been largely trivial and unimportant, but the words were not stilted.

After a late and quick supper upon arrival, the two of you had retired to the royal bedchamber. Steve had expected a dutiful consummation, and duty may have called for the deed, but the execution had unexpectedly run deeper, warmer, with the undertones of the fledgling familiarity built over the few hours alone earlier. Each day the familiarity grew, and though there could have perhaps been moments that could have allowed each of you two part naturally, you both drew each other into extending conversations, going on walks or rides or visiting a new area of the palace together, continuing formally in the first few days until it became merely natural and the two of you forgot altogether the idea of spending much of the time apart.

Now he understood the nostalgia with which many referred to the honeymoon. It was a pity it was coming to an end. Two weeks ago, you were little more than strangers to be wed and fulfill your royal duties. Here on this final night, he could not think of it ending. Tomorrow he would go back to being the king again.

He sighed and turned his head to look at you. He wanted to reach for you, pull you closer, touch you, but the touching wouldn’t be enough, and he’d said sensibly that the two of you should retire early specifically so he could sleep and be well rested for his early departure. He hadn’t thought you warming his bed would be torture. He thought that it would be soothing and help him sleep. But this was worse, and the longer he listened, the less it seemed sleep would ever come to him. But he would not leave or send you away, it was the last night he would have this kind of closeness afforded to him with ease. He also didn’t want to disturb you if you were perhaps close to dropping off to sleep. Nearness was enough, even if it meant no sleep.

Suddenly you shifted, rolling to lie on your back, and you let out a long sigh of your own.

“Sleep alluding you, my queen?”

“As it seems to be alluding you, my king. I know the time is only slipping away until you’re required to wake and depart. Is my restless state keeping you awake?”

Steve laughed. “Perhaps, but not in the way you think.”

He rolled up on his elbow and places a hand on your hip, drawing circles there with his fingers.

“Perhaps I can beckon sleep for both of us in…other ways.”

His hand moved up to cup your breast. He gave a squeeze and brushed his thumb over your nipple, the thin fabric of your night shift barely there. You whimpered his name, arching slightly into his palm.

“Yes?” he pressed.

“Yes,” you pleaded.

While he reached down to pull up the hem of your nightdress, your hands went quickly to free his growing desire for you. Quickly he shifted his body over yours, nestling between your eagerly parting legs. He smiled as he guided his cock to your heated folds, happy to find you were already wet. He looked up to your face, and you bit your lip before reaching your hands up to his jaw and drawing him down to meet your lips. Steve devoured you with his kiss as he plunged into you, and you gave yourself up to him completely until you were both exhausted and sleep finally overtook you.

When one of his esquires woke him in the pre-dawn glow, he suppressed a groan of agitation. It is not the kind of king he has ever wanted to portray to his subjects. He will always be a dignified king. He was diligent in making sure you were tucked in with propriety before falling asleep himself, but he looks over to make sure your modesty is preserved this morning now with someone else in the room. He wants to kiss you goodbye, and while part of him wants nothing more than to wake you, see your eyes look up at him before he leaves, he refrains from doing anything more than brushing the hair off and away from your face with only the lightest caress. It would be silly to wake you for any more sentimentality. The honeymoon is truly over, and he only feels this consuming tie because of the unique circumstances of here and now. When you are both back in the capitol, it will be more normal and less sentimental. He will be himself again.

Downstairs in the hall there were simple foods ready for him to break his fast, and Lord Barnes and General Wilson were both waiting and ready to receive their king. Barnes would accompany him to Stark’s kingdom, but Wilson was there to escort the queen back to the castle.

“Guard her with your life,” Steve commanded.

Wilson gave a slight bow. “Yes, my king.”

Steve turns to look at Barnes only to find a smirk on the man’s face. “What is so amusing at this hour?”

“You gave that order as if he hasn’t been in your service for years.”

“She is the queen,” Steve reminded them.

“I will afford her the same safety and security that I have for your majesty since given the responsibility of this position.”

Steve shook his head, “You should afford her more than you do me.”

Without hesitation, he responded, “It will be done.”

Steve strode out of the foyer and Barnes fell in just one step behind him. “We need not rush away from the palace so soon. The official royal business of Stark’s expo does not require you so immediately.”

“This was the plan,” Steve retorted, “why would we alter course?”

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return to your queen,” he agreed.

“The sooner we can return to my kingdom, Lord Barnes.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

read more of the CEDAR TREES COLLECTION

read the next part: A SHIFT IN THE MORNING ROUTINE

[phantom-le6]

Ramble of the month November 2022: Marvel Contest of Champions – Quarters, Semis and Finals of my fanfic-based clash of Marvel heroes

As promised in my October ramble, I’m using the November article to conclude the Contest of Champions I posited originally back in July’s ramble.  After two initial elimination rounds, we’re now down to the various varieties of final, and since that means four quarter finals, two semis and then a single final, I’m doing the whole lot in one post.

 Now as a quick reminder from last time for any regular readers, and to mention it for the first-time readers, this isn’t about arbitrary selection based on personal preference or telling a specific story.  Instead, I’ll be looking at things from an impartial examination of key factors.  These include powers and abilities, any weaponry/gadgets carried by default, perception biases and the fundamental nature of each character.  The analysis will also have some influence from the narrative outlines of my fan-fiction plans, so knowledge of events from any other Marvel continuities and their impacts aren’t going to factor in.  Also, as this would be the first contest, we’re looking at very basic knock-out fighting bouts between the heroes in plain, basic, gladiatorial arenas, so environment will mostly not be a factor either.

Right, now that that’s done, let’s hit the quarter-final bouts:

Quarter Finals

Bout 1: Black Panther/T’Challa vs Thor

Our first quarter final is a true battle royale as we pit the king of Wakanda against the prince of Asgard.  I’m sure Black Panther fans and people who’ve watched certain elements of season 5 of Avengers Assemble would put such a bout in T’Challa’s favour; one because he’s their favourite, the other because it provides a precedent for T’Challa planning contingencies against his fellow heroes.  However, the former is something we avoid in objective analysis, and the latter is ruled out by the contest rules (straight-up gladiatorial combat with no prep time) and the context for the fan-fiction universe (at this time, T’Challa hasn’t met or studied most other superheroes).

 As such, the contest is wide open until we consider all factors.  First, as ever, is powers; Thor significantly out-muscles T’Challa and brings a distance attack to the fray in the form of his lightning, not to mention his flight advantage.  However, T’Challa is also an agile opponent, so landing hits will not be entirely straight-forward for Thor.  Experience-wise, Thor’s extended lifespan means he’s had more time to learn and master combat than any human, so this adds to his edge over T’Challa.

 When we consider equipment, however, things even up a little more.  T’Challa’s suit being made of Vibranium means he’ll be more likely to absorb and even re-direct Thor’s lightning, which means the pair will be more likely to come to physical blows instead of fighting things out at range.  Psychologically, there’s nothing tipping the balance either way.  Long story short, it’s a closer bout than might be apparent at first glance, but without prep time, this bout will ultimately go to the God of Thunder.

Bout 1 winner: Thor

Bout 2: Captain America/Steve Rogers vs Storm/Ororo Monroe

Next, we pit the super-soldier against one of the last remaining X-Men-to-be in the contest (remember, Storm is at university following a stint as Xavier’s student before she returns as teacher and X-Men in the fanfic).  From a powers perspective, Storm has a considerable edge in that her weather-manipulation powers are varied, powerful, and are going up against the primarily physical power of Captain America.  Now as I noted back in my July ramble, Steve’s powers in the fanfic draw from the comics instead of films, so he’s only at peak human strength and fitness levels, but with the serum eliminated fatigue poisons to give him increased endurance and stamina.

 Considering this, Storm would have to rely on her more directly offensive weather manifestations, as trying to batter Cap with snow, wind, etc. isn’t going to wear him down as effectively as a normal human being.  However, that plays into Cap’s experience, which overall gives him an edge over Storm despite her Danger Room training.  To an old war horse like Cap, even tactics like fog wouldn’t avail Storm too much against him.  Next there’s the equipment aspect; Cap’s shield being made of a unique Adamantium-Vibranium alloy makes it both indestructible and fairly energy-absorbent, while Storm isn’t packing any weaponry or equipment of note for combat.

 Psychologically speaking, Storm is likely than some other X-students to be awed or intimidated by Cap, but there may still be a small element of this in play, while Cap will probably not be adversely affected by anything in the combat to hand.  Ultimately, I think Storm would have the initial advantage, but Cap’s experience, endurance and his shield would enable him to hang in long enough to come back and win the bout overall.

Bout 2 winner: Captain America

Bout 3: Hulk/Bruce Banner vs Domino/Neena Thurman

Gamma strength versus mutant luck; in most bouts, it’s fair to say each power is an insurmountable factor that all but guarantees the wielder of that power a win.  Pitted against each other, however, the question becomes which trumps the other. Ultimately, any application of the Hulk’s strength is as subject to probability as any other, but at the same time, if the Hulk uses area-effect strikes (e.g., a super-strength clap of his hands creating a massive shockwave that is impossible to avoid), luck can cease to be a factor.

 Looked at from this point of view, the powers at hand more-or-less cancel each other out.  Next comes experience, which Domino does have the advantage of over the Hulk, if only because the Hulk has poor memory and cognitive ability, fighting more from instinct or Banner’s subconscious prodding than any true tactical expertise of his own.  Domino is also armed where the Hulk is not, frequently using firearms in combat, and this together with her luck and experience, not to mention her ability to remain calm and think while the Hulk is a raging berserker, puts the fight into her hands.

 As a well-trained and experienced fighter, especially one who is operating alongside a martial arts master like Wolverine outside this contest, Domino will have both excellent marksmanship skills and some knowledge of pressure-point strikes.  If we then factor in the increased tensile strength of the Hulk’s skin, it’s very likely that high-calibre rounds from a rifle like the one Domino is typically depicted with could have the same kind of impact as a nerve-strike, if aimed right and backed up with Domino’s luck to ensure that outcome.  As a result, Domino would probably win this bout.

Bout 3 winner: Domino

Bout 4: Marvel Girl/Jean Grey vs Hercules

For the last of the quarter finals, we pit telepathy and telekinesis of the last of our remaining mutant characters against Olympian strength.  Now as was noted in last month’s ramble, the mind of any long-lived being required a level of physiological and psychological endurance beyond a human mind to withstand the greater volume of memory and knowledge such a mind would accumulate.  This means telepaths would struggle in a mind-to-mind clash with Asgardians, Olympians, etc.  This is part of why Thor defeated Psylocke in round 2 of the contest, and it means Jean’s not going to be able to bring this weapon to bear as well as she could against most other foes.

 However, enhanced strength is Hercules’ sole power while Jean is also a telekinetic, and she could easily use that power to turn the Olympian’s strength against him.  That said, Hercules as a longer-lived being possesses a considerable edge in experience, which would seem to put the advantage back in his corner.  In terms of equipment, Hercules has the option of his Mace of Power, but since he wouldn’t likely use it against an unarmed foe, especially a female opponent, this is almost a null factor.

 Ultimately, this bout comes down to psychological factors, and it’s here that Hercules would get tripped up.  In addition to being part-human and thus a little more susceptible to Jean’s telepathy than the average Olympian, Hercules is both braggart and chauvinist.  This means that where Jean’s telepathy can get through, she can exacerbate these qualities and cause Hercules to make a moderate fool of himself, thereby making use of her telekinesis almost a formality.  As a result, this final quarter final would end up being won by Jean.

Bout 4 winner: Marvel Girl

With the quarter finals judged, we now move to the semi-finals, which pitch avenger against avenger and mutant against mutant.

Semi-Finals

Bout 1: Thor vs Captain America/Steve Rogers

So, in a bout between the God of Thunder and the star-spangled avenger, who wins?  From the perspective of powers, Thor has a sizeable edge from his physical strength, lightning powers and flight abilities, whereas Captain America’s increased endurance doesn’t seem much by comparison.  Experience is also on Thor’s side, though Captain America isn’t exactly a slouch in this respect; only Thor’s greater life-span grants him an edge here due to a greater volume of experience.

 As such, we then come to equipment, and Cap’s shield is perhaps one of the few weapons capable of really holding up well against the mighty Mjolnir.  That then leaves psychological factors; considering we’re taking about a great warrior combatting a great soldier, neither combatant is going to be at any great advantage or disadvantage to the other in this regard. The reality is this would be a close-run bout but would ultimately go Thor’s way.

Bout 1 winner: Thor

Bout 2: Domino/Neena Thurman vs Marvel Girl/Jean Grey

So far in this contest, we’ve seen luck powers beat optic blasts, super-speed and super-strength, while telepathy and telekinesis has surpassed super-senses, amphibious abilities and an Olympian demi-god. Which of these, then, can beat the other.  Now as we noted back in the quarter finals, luck can only affect probability; if someone uses a power that can’t avoided, luck won’t help.  As such, one could argue that with a quick opening psychic attack, Jean would have the bout sewn up in an instant.

 However, in the fan-fic world where this contest takes place, Domino is part of the proto-X-Men, and as such will have been taught by Professor X himself to resist psionic assaults.  This means Jean’s greatest power advantage is again reduced in efficacy, though not by any means nullified in its totality.  However, telekinesis may not avail much against luck unless Jean has the wit to make the attacks wide-spread and thus unavoidable.  Experience-wise, Domino will also have the edge, as she does from an equipment point-of-view, though Jean’s telekinesis would easily deflect most if not all firearm rounds.

 This then brings us psychological factors, and here both women know each other well enough not to have any clear edge over each other.  Long story short, it’s a relatively even match-up that I think would just go Jean’s way.  Whether that’s because telepathy, especially of Jean’s level, is impossible to resist forever, or because Domino’s luck might consider it luckier to avoid Thor in the contest final, I leave to your judgement.

Bout 2 winner: Marvel Girl

 And with the semi-finals out of the way, it’s now time to look at the final.  Who will be the inaugural victor of the Contest of Champions in my fan-fic world from an objective perspective?  Let’s find out.

Final: Thor vs Marvel Girl/Jean Grey

Ok, as ever, let’s start with powers.  Jean’s telepathy will be all but useless against Thor due to his mental resilience combined with him being full Asgardian rather than a human-Olympian hybrid.  This means it’s her telekinesis against Thor’s super-strength, lightning and flight abilities.  As a telekinetic, Jean may be able to manage some levitation, so flight is not entirely Thor’s advantage, but lifting herself will deplete what else she can manipulate, including the possible deflection of Thor’s hammer.

 Experience, as ever in these bouts, lies with Thor as the longer-lived combatant and a warrior born-and-bred, and he is armed with his hammer where Jean has no equipment.  Having beaten Hercules, Jean might not be as easily cowed by Thor as some others would be, but let’s bear in mind we’re dealing with a late teens Jean whose powers, while formidable, have yet to truly reach their peak.  Moreover, considering how much those powers would be drained overcoming an Olympian and Domino’s luck powers, it’s quite likely that come the final, Jean would be running on fumes compared to Thor.  As such, I’m inclined to declare the Odinson as the inaugural CoC winner.

Champion: Thor

 And that concludes this first fan-fic-based Contest of Champions. I do have several others within this fan-fic world, as the idea was to have them happen once every four years like the Olympics (a US Olympic games in the 1980’s being the original genesis of the whole contest concept). If you’ve liked this one and want me to do the other contests in future rambles, leave a comment and I’ll be sure to work that in.  I’ll also probably mix things up a bit more on future ones as well (e.g., alternating environmental conditions, some bouts being among more than two combatants), so also bear that in mind when asking “do I want to see more of this kind of thing”?

 Anyway, that’ll be it for now in terms of Marvel stuff. Next month’s ramble will be both seasonal and dealing with raising awareness about another aspect of autism, so until then, ta-ta for now.

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.12

A Special Delivery

10/26/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader         Word Count: 5,520

Warnings: talk of sex, angst, jealousy, violent images, language

A/N: I will come back and add tags after I eat. I’m hungry. And tags take forever. This one will answer a few of the questions I’ve been getting. The next one will answer more. I hope you like it. Let me know what you all think! I read EACH and EVERY comment. There have been a lot lately and I haven’t been able to respond to all of them but be aware that I see them. I read them. I love them. They mean so much. Thank you! If you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work.

Tags are CLOSED for this story!

Steve watches you lay there, face lacking its usual color, eyes shut to the world, mouth slightly open. His nerves frayed and his mind swirling with all of the possible things that might go wrong.

As Natasha fusses to get your dress open, she turns to him and your rescuer where he hovers also watching you with concern.

“Some privacy, your Majesties, if you please?” She gives Steve a stern look and he nods, eyes moving past her frown to your unconscious face.

“The doctor is on his way, Nat. Can you-?” Steve begins.

“As soon as he’s seen her, I will come find you.” She promises, a little exasperated. “Go, Steve. I’ll take care of her.”

“And her legs, and her…when you undress her, check her all over Nat, make sure she’s doesn’t have a single scratch.” Steve’s voice rises in pitch a little, frantic energy seeping through the calm he’s been trying to maintain.

“Steve,” Nat’s eyes soften as she pauses untying your dress. “I’ve got her. Alright? I’ll be thorough. Go.”

With a nod Steve turns, eyeing the King of Asgard up before he clears his throat to get his attention.

“Your Majesty?” Steve coaxes, voice back to normal, his calm façade a little better in place.

The King of Asgard sighs heavily, turning away from you without meeting Steve’s eyes and heads out into the dark empty hallway.

Steve follows. When he reaches the hallway, he pauses for a moment, just long enough to meet the thunder god’s eyes.

“Can we speak in my office?” Steve asks.

Thor gestures down the hall with one massive hand. “Lead the way, your Majesty.”

As the God smirks, Steve narrows his eyes a bit, trying to understand the sharp edge to his tone.

His office is not far. Just at the other end of the hall, connected to his separate quarters. He hasn’t been sleeping in it since you left him and has elected to sleep by your empty bed, sitting in that chair you like to sit in when you sew.

Of course, only Natasha and Peter have caught him in there. Bucky knows because he knows everything that Steve does, even while he’s been out helping Sam look for you.

The office is not tidy. His papers are scattered across his desk, but he has no idea what is on them or which ones are important. He’s had no time to pay them any mind.

Sure, he tried to get some work done, but every time he did your sobbing face popped back up in his mind and he found himself unable to get any work done.

He waits for Thor to follow him in, then shuts the door behind him. He moves to the fire and grabs a long iron rod to stoke the fire and bring back the warmth, his hands visibly shaking despite the composure he seems to have.

“I think I should thank you.” Steve begins. “Where did you find her? How long has she been with you?”

Thor scoffs.

Steve blinks, considering the reaction to his words then puts the poker back before turning to look at Thor. Brow furrowed, he stares at him, watching as the God’s hands tighten around the back of the chair in front of his desk.

He’s looking down at the seat but not really seeing it. He’s preoccupied, remembering something that’s clearly upset him while shaking his head, a bitter laugh on his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I know that you don’t wish to speak of it, little bird, but I must ask. Did Steve force you?” You’re walking ahead of him, swinging your arms—so carefree, he almost hates to bring this up.

You stop, reaching down to feel the edge of his red cape which he’s ashamed to admit he’s grown fond of seeing you wrapped up in.

Your head tilts down to the ground and you kick a stone that flitters off towards another larger rock where it hits without moving it.

“No.” You sigh. “He didn’t force me but…I don’t know it all felt very—not like what happened the other night.”

He’s not ashamed for touching you…well, maybe a bit. You are his friend’s wife after all, but the idea of you not knowing the bliss that can come from sharing your body with someone. Especially someone you love?

Maybe he’s just a romantic—he misses Jane—but to him, there is nothing more sacred than the shared pleasure, that ethereal connection with someone you care deeply about.

“I’m sorry if I-” He begins, worried that he might have done something you had not wanted.

You hadn’t asked it of him though he could sense your curiosity, the wonder.

And you’re so perfect. So beautiful. How could he resist? His Jane so very far away unsure of her desire to commit. You already so invested in your marriage while Steve pushes you away.

If it had been him, he’d have loved you fiercely after quickly realizing just how wonderful you were. It only took him hours to see it. How can Steve not see it?

“You didn’t.” You assure him, turning to look at him but you don’t smile. You’re ashamed. Sad that you enjoyed yourself though you shouldn’t be. “But I shouldn’t have let you.”

You think for a moment, then smile at him and his heart skips a beat.

“It was only really hard the first two times. The first because it hurt. I’d never been with a man before and his Majesty wanted to get it over with, I think.” Your smile falters. “I’m not his M-”

You don’t seem to be able to say her name.

“I’m not her, so it must have been nauseating for him to be with me in that way. I thought maybe he did like me a little. He was so receptive.

“I was in a lot of pain that first time. That whole week. A part of the second but his Majesty was gentler. Kinder. At least in bed. He never stayed. I slept alone.”

The loneliness in your voice is shattering. It breaks his insides apart, guts him and spills his squiggly red innards.

“I’m grateful.” You tell him to his astonishment.

Your wind whips in the breeze, his red cape drawn more tightly around your body as you snuggle into it, relishing in the warmth it gives. It’s colder in these forests but soon the warmth of Broklin will return.

“When it stopped hurting, I stopped crying. His Majesty was always more bothered when I cried.

“I know that Steve may not be showing you his good qualities at the moment. He’s much more than the man you know. I know you don’t want to hear about her anymore but…Margaret and Steve shared a love like I have never seen.

“They knew each other in and out. My love for Jane can only compare so far. They were born in the same year. They shared the same friends. Same passions. They grew together, shaped each other, they were the closest that I have seen any pair to being one soul split between two bodies. Steve thought he would have her until the day he died.

“He never expected her to go first.” Thor licks his lips, watching as his words crush your heart.

He hates to do it to you, but for the sake of your marriage, you must hear it.

“I know that he loves her very much, Thor.” You nearly sob, looking away from him but he crosses the distance between you and takes your shoulders in hand.

“No, little bird. You don’t. There are many varieties of love and the love that Steve and Margaret shared is the rarest of all. She became a part of him and he of her. If she was troubled, he knew it without needing to ask. If he was injured, she felt it in her bones.” Thor explains. “I saw it for myself.”

You don’t want to hear but picturing them together now feels different. It doesn’t hurt as much. Not in the way it’s been hurting. Not like jealousy.

“Imagine someone ripping out a piece of what makes you the person you are, and you will know what Steve has been suffering. He is not himself little bird. That’s all I mean by this. He will come to his senses and he will bitterly regret the mistakes he’s made with you.

“He will be eager to make amends and right his wrongs. Steven Rogers is not a bad man.” Thor promises. “Only a broken one. I cannot say whether he will ever be whole again, perhaps you will be able to help him-”

“I don’t want to replace her.” You frown. “I’ve never wanted to do that. All I wanted was a chance to know him. I love him…I’ve seen him be himself before. I’ve seen him open up. But never with me. I want it to be with me, Thor.”

Thor squeezes your shoulders. “He will. I guarantee it.”

“He doesn’t even care that I’m gone.” You look down at his chest and he draws you in for a reassuring embrace.

“Trust me, little bird, anyone who has known you would miss you.”

“It’s not his fault, Thor.” You say, not hearing him. “I’m just…not enough. I’m not who I said I am. I’m no one. He deserves more.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Did I say something amusing?” Steve wonders confused by the King of Asgard’s rudeness.

He’s never done anything but be civil with him and his Kingdom. They’ve forged peace treaties and partnership in trade. Had he forgotten to renew one?

“You think you should thank me? For bringing her back?” Thor looks up at him, seeing through him, back from whatever memory he’d been lost in.

Steve doesn’t like it. He shifts uncomfortably then moves towards his desk.

“Yes. Thank you for keeping her safe.” Steve tells him.

“I did not do it for you.” Thor assures him. “Let me ask you something, Steven—”

For a moment, Steve’s heart feels lighter. Thor hasn’t called him that since they were boys together planning how they would each rule their kingdoms. Dreaming big and ready for the challenge. Steve had been more reluctant, but he’d grown to love the idea with Thor to understand the responsibilities that came with such a job.

“—do you suppose your new wife is happy?” Thor moves to sit down in the seat he’s been standing behind, leaning back with his legs spread open.

It’s an undignified pose but normal for him. Steve takes no offense. In fact, he sits down himself and leans back, relaxing for the first time in weeks.

“I…” Steve thinks fast. Your pretty face, tears streaking across the swell of your cheeks, lip trembling, sobs ripping through your throat all fill his mind again. “No. I don’t suppose she is.”

“She was a virgin when you took her.”

“Yes. I think so.” Steve nods.

“That wasn’t a question. I am telling you because she told me.” Thor lets that sink in.

Steve stares at his old friend, considering the hard set of his eyes, the tick of his jaw. Thor’s angry. This sets Steve on edge. It makes him defensive.

“She told me many things.” Thor continues. “And I gave her comfort. I think I should own up to that now. You see, your wife had no idea that laying with a man might be pleasurable. She assumed that it was always to be painful or unrewarding.

“In all the time I have known you, old friend, I have never suspected you to be as ungenerous as she made you seem.”

“I…” Steve begins, but Thor doesn’t let him finish.

“I will say my piece and then you may respond.” Thor orders and this makes Steve bristle.

Him? Being ordered in his own castle? In his own office?

“Thor-”

“I had her.” He states, a small shrug thrown Steve’s way. “Not completely. Just enough to show her what love might feel like.”

“You what?” Anger like he’s never known sets his blood to boil and Steve must remind himself that Thor is his friend. That laying a hand on him in this moment would bring about war. Seeing past the red haze is difficult.

“I couldn’t believe my ears when she laughed in my face and told me that sex hadn’t and shouldn’t feel good. She said she’d wait until you’re finished and then do as the doctors ordered to ensure she became pregnant. She told me that the pain finally stopped. That finally it didn’t hurt, and she was very happy, because it meant that you could bed her, and she would no longer cry.

“Did her crying upset you?” Steve watches him drag his plump lower lip through his teeth, glaring at the long-haired blonde, wishing he could rid himself of the urge to sink his dagger into his chest. “I’m surprised it took her so long to leave you.”

“Where do you get off-?”

“I said I would say my piece.” Thor says calmly, but his eyes flash bright blue and outside thunder crackles overhead as lightning flashes through the window.

Steve isn’t afraid of the thunder God, his glare seethes.

“She tried to speak up for you. She’s in love with you. I don’t know why. I haven’t seen it for myself, haven’t been here, but I can see the loneliness in her eyes. And for a night at least, I was able to relieve her of it.”

“How dare you touch-!” Steve cuts off his wild guttural threat, the black pit in his stomach seems to be expanding upwards into his chest. It drags him down to the deepest depths of hell and he hates that he made you suffer.

You tear him to shreds with your tears and all the pain he’s given you. He can never make it up to you. He can’t make it right. Now he hears that you’ve been…touched by someone else? A God? By Thor?!

Painful images of you caressing Thor’s cheeks and hair, running your hands over his muscles as he thrusts into you fill Steve’s mind.

Fury! He feels the most potent fury at the sight in his head.

“Does that make you angry? That I’ve tasted your Queen?” Thor asks, keeping his voice even and quiet. “She’s very sweet, Steve. Like peaches dipped in honey. She trembled with ecstasy and cried because she didn’t know it could feel so good.”

Steve is on his feet, fists clenched at his sides as he glares daggers at this traitor. This so-called friend.

The image in his mind changes, Thor's head between your legs as you throw your own back, hands fisting his hair as he grips your thighs.

No!

“I should have you taken to the dungeon and beheaded.” Steve growls, spitting angry, with eyes like the devil when his souls are due.

Thor doesn’t seem to take the threat seriously. He leans forward, elbows on his knees as he gets a good look into Steve’s eyes. He looks a little happy too. Like he’s enjoying Steve’s reaction.

“Why do you treat her so?” He asks, curious. “Is it because of Maggie?”

“Don’t.” Steve growls harder, voice cutting out as a surprised sob slips through. The anger fades from his face, replaced by shocked heartache at the mention of Maggie. “Don’t.”

“It has been nearly three years since you lost her. I know what you lost. I know that no one can replace what the two of you shared but it’s no longer just you. Someone else is living and breathing in this castle and she’s placed all of her hopes on you.” Thor gripes, real concern for his friend turning his voice soft.

“I know.” Steve whispers, fighting the sorrow in his chest as he sits back down.

“Do you?” Thor checks, eyebrows shooting up into his forehead.

Steve looks up at him and seems to have gotten some of his composure back.

“You have been so wrapped up in your grief that you’ve ignored the woman you’ve married. It is not her fault that you loved someone else first. It’s not her fault that you lost Maggie. But you’re punishing her as if it were.”

“I know it’s not…” Steve argues.

“Then why do you only see your own grievances? Why can you only see your own sorrow? Your wife is reaching out to you, to know you, and you will not let her.” Thor seems to get angrier as he speaks. Exasperation making him breathless as he moves to the edge of his seat.

He gestures at the doorway they’d just walked through, to you down the hall in your bedroom.

Steve knows that he means that you’re trying to touch his heart. He’s going to try and let you. He won’t run away from it anymore.

“She was uprooted from her life and brought here. She was given into your care and you’ve done nothing but show her that her life is not only valued at less than the memory of someone long gone, but that you don’t care whether she is happy in her new home. Your subjects can see that.

“Do you not hear the gossip that snakes its way through your kingdom? The Crazy Queen. Poor King Rogers. He had to marry King Stark’s mad daughter. He clearly doesn’t love her. Look at how he shuns her. Why can’t she just stay in her room where none of us must see her?

“Nobody wants her.” Thor finishes, slapping the harsh words without remorse. “Not even the King.”

“I do want her.” Steve argues, angry again, voice gruff. “I do. I just…”

“Do you hate her?”

“No.” Steve glares. “Of course, I don’t hate her. Would I have married her if I hated her?”

Yes. He would have. He hates to admit it. But he doesn’t hate you. You fill his thoughts now.

“Then what will you do if you lose this one too?” Thor asks, punching Steve in the gut with his words.

Steve slams his fist on the desk, hating the ache that strangles his heart. “No!”

Thor simply watches.

“I won’t lose her, Thor. I-I can’t.” Steve gets up and begins to pace, reaching up to wipe his face in frustration. “Where is that damn doctor? Why hasn’t Nat come?”

“You almost did lose her.” Thor nods, ignoring Steve’s sudden panic at his reminder that you’re lying in your bed unconscious. “And I don’t mean her injuries. You pushed her away so harshly that she ran away from you. Imagine what she must have felt to leave you, forgoing all care for her reputation and safety. If I hadn’t found her wandering in the woods, she might very well be dead right now. She wasn’t in the greatest condition when I found her. Sick. Hungry. Parched.”

Steve sits again and buries his face in his hands, gasping hard as the strife of worry finally catches up with him. He’s been holding it in since you went away, refusing to really feel it. To let others see it.

Pierce and Rumlow had come the closest.

“A little bit longer and you would have lost her just as you lost Margaret.” Thor says gently.

“I can’t.” Steve groans, hands sliding up into his hair to pull harshly. “I can’t lose her.”

“Then fix this.” Thor tells him, urging his old friend to do what’s right. “Fix this before she stops loving you. And if you think you can love her, even if it is only a little bit, don’t leave her in any doubt of it. I will not be the last man to show interest.”

Steve’s face contorts into a grimace, upset and angry but it almost seems like it’s directed at himself. He meets Thor’s eyes with that same agonized look on his face.

“Did you really…did you and she…?”

Thor is silent. It’s answer enough but Steve stares, wanting more details. Even though his eyes are pools of anguish because he knows that Thor didn’t lie about having tasted you, he wants to know how and for how long.

“Tell me.” Steve begs, almost afraid of what he might say.

How will he compare to a God? He’s already done such a horrible job at being your husband. He’s left your bed how many nights with you sobbing into your pillow? How many more where you just laid there without complaint?

“I don’t want to be indiscreet.” Thor hesitates.

“I think we’re well past that, Thor. Just…tell me.” Steve sighs. “Did you sleep with her?”

“No.” Thor assures him. “I thought about it.”

Steve glares at him but takes a shaky breath and nods. “Did you-”

“I touched her with my hands until she neared release. I attempted cunnilingus but, she stopped me when she came close. I don’t think it’s me she wanted touching her in such ways.” Thor says.

Steve has that urge to stab his friend again. He pushes through it, reminding himself that if he hadn’t been terrible to you then you would have never run out on him and you would have never met Thor and been placed in such an awkward position.

“Steve…” Thor begins, pulling Steve’s storm blue gaze back up to his.

When Thor is sure that he has his friend’s undivided attention, he speaks.

“I can see that you care about her. It isn’t just that she’s your wife that makes you want to stab me with your dagger.”

“How do you know that I-?” Steve asks, astonished that Thor knows Steve’s violent thoughts.

“Because it is what I would want to do if I learned that someone other than myself had touched the Lady Jane. I felt bad for her pain and I’d be lying if I said that your sweet wife is not tempting. She has a fighter’s spirit but the gentility of a true Queen. She has compassion which is difficult to find in the ruling class. If I did not love Jane as much as I do, and if she were not already your wife, I would take her as my own.” Thor confesses and it scares Steve.

Is Thor right? Will there be other suitors? Other men that will think it’s possible to steal you from him?

“Perhaps I still might?” Thor threatens.

Steve renews his glare, hating him if only because he’s done something that he hasn’t done himself.

He’s tasted you. Seen you happy beneath him. Given you pleasure when Steve has only given you pain.

“As I said before,” Thor insists. “If you love her, even just a small amount, you must tell her and tell her soon. Her patience is wearing thin with you Steve. She cannot wait for you forever. She might be your Queen until the day she dies but she doesn’t have to love you.”

Steve considers the possibility. You by his side until you’re both old and gray and you, with a string of lovers over a lifetime in a loveless marriage. He doesn’t like the idea of someone else touching you. He hates it even more to think that you might not love him. That you won’t want him around you.

“Fix it.” Thor orders, and Steve feels obliged to obey.

“There’s something else.” Thor states, leaning back in his chair again, but he nods at the red leather-bound book that Steve had caught you reading the title of. “Two things actually.”

“What is it?” Steve asks, reaching to place his hand on the book only after glancing towards the doorway full of worry. Has the doctor come yet?

“First, the reason that Y/N is in her current state is because we were attacked. More specifically, she was.” Thor hold out his hand as Steve makes to get up, body tense with fear. “Don’t worry, she wasn’t injured by anyone but a few rocks as she fell.”

“What happened?” Steve demands.

“We were on our way back here. She’d decided to come back home to you, and we were very nearly here when someone came out of the trees and swung their sword at her.” Suddenly, Thor smiles. “She’s very spry, your sweet wife. She ducked as easily as if she were breathing and avoided the blow. Had it not rained the night before I think she might have been able to get back to me, but the rocks were wet, and she slipped.”

“Slipped?” Steve asks with a light gasp, as if he can’t believe it. “She just slipped?”

“She hit her side and her head. It’s why she’s asleep.” Thor explains.

It all feels too familiar and it’s burning Steve up from the inside, charring his nerves into familiar broken numbness.

Just an accident. Maggie’s fall was also just an accident.

“She’ll pull out of this, Steve. Your queen is strong. She wouldn’t let something this simple keep her down. Not when she’s got you here waiting for her.” Thor assures him.

“Who was it?” Steve asks, so very tired all of a sudden as he runs his hands through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face.

“I can’t be sure, but it looked like Hydra.” Thor nods.

“They’re back.” Steve realizes.

“And with a vengeance. For some reason, they want your new queen dead.” Thor shakes his head, and Steve can see that Thor really does care for you. Too much in his opinion.

Steve’s mind is already racing, connecting dots. “I think I know who’s behind it, but I’ll never be able to prove it.”

Thor nods. “We’ll have to be vigilant then, until we can.”

They lapse into silence, both thinking about Hydra until Steve remembers that there was something else Thor wanted to say.

“What was the second thing?” He asks.

“What?” Thor seems confused for a moment.

Steve raises both eyebrows, waiting.

“Oh!” Thor shakes his head, “Right. The other thing.”

Steve waits, heart pounding.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re groggy.

It feels like you’ve been sleeping for hours and hours. Days. Weeks even.

You struggle to push past the fog and when you manage to open your eyes, you feel the resistance of your own body as you attempt to speak.

Quickly, as your mind wakes up, it reminds you of the last things you saw.

A flash of silver, black mass, the slip of your foot, pain against your side and against your head.

Dread fills you. A slow frenzy begins to build in your chest as your heart picks up pace. Hands trembling you reach to press your hands against the side that you hit yourself on.

Movement to your right draws your eye and you see Nat, dressed in an emerald green dress with dark gray damask embroidery from head to toe, stoking your fire to make your room warm.

You have no time to appreciate the comforts you’re surrounded in—the soft white fabric of your luxurious nightdress, the plush mattress you lay on, the puffy pillows and the much welcome smell of peony, jasmine, and lilac with the residual smell of juniper blossoms that fills your head with the memory of beautiful long and golden hair.

Reaching out, you wheeze as you attempt to speak. You can’t breathe in. Why?

Nat turns, her eyes flare as she spots you awake and she’s by your side in seconds.

“Oh, Y/N! I could kill you.” She picks up your hand and kisses the back of it then presses it to her cheek before she looks at you again. “Oh, no…don’t panic, you’re safe. Shhh.”

Panic? Is that why you can’t breathe.

“Breathe, your Majesty. Breathe.” Nat urges.

She breathes in and then out.

“Like this.” She does it again and this time you follow.

Your eyes spill tears, torrid fat drops that fill your pillow by your ear making it cold and wet.

“There you go. Are you in pain?” She worries, her hands dropping yours so that she can run them up and down your arms and legs.

“Nat!” You nearly shout, reaching for her sleeve to pull her back up. “Please…”

Your left hand is pressed against your stomach carefully, protectively. Nat’s eyes follow it and then she stares at you with shock for all of a second before she’s moving to get on her feet.

“We need the doctor!” She shouts towards the door.

“No.” You almost growl, pulling on her arm and back down onto the edge of the bed.

At the other end of the room, your doors open and Peter and Bucky both come in to stand by the door looking concerned and terrified.

Nat moves in closer as you pull her down.

“Not the doctor.” You swallow hard, pushing past the emotional lump in your throat. You’re still crying those fat heavy tears, but you’re not sobbing. “In my old village…”

Speaking slowly so that you get it out all in one go, Nat watches your lips and then meets your eyes, flitting between the two as you speak to her with what must be vital importance.

“…there is an old woman. In Charmlee Forest, twenty minutes to the East of my village you will find her hut. When she was younger, she used to be a midwife. I need her, Nat. Bring her here. Please. No one else. Just her.”

Nat is on her feet, racing towards the doorway. As she passes Bucky and Peter, Bucky grabs her elbow and stops her.

“Where are you going? What did she say?” Bucky asks.

“I need to send a rider to Malibia, Charmlee Forest. There’s an old woman that she needs. A doctor.” Nat lies, knowing you well enough now to know you don’t want this out there yet.

“I’ll go.” Bucky tells her and without another word he’s gone.

Nat looks to Peter and moves to shut the door to keep the heat in the room, but Peter moves inside before she can close it.

Knowing that help is coming, you relax a little but continue to cry. Your eyes find Peter’s and your sorrow is renewed when you see the red rim around his eyes. They sparkle with unshed tears and you bite your bottom lip.

“Peter, I’m so sorry.” You gasp, reaching out for him.

He takes our hand and gives it a squeeze before kneeling down beside your bed to simply hold your hand.

“I would have taken you anywhere you wanted to go.” He explains, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” You admit, then look at Nat who’s hovering by the bottom right post at the end of your bed. “I was just so…I stopped thinking and my feet led me away from here. I was days gone when I realized the worry that I would put you through. I cannot ask for your forgiveness, but please accept my apology.”

“Life for you hasn’t been easy here, your Majesty.” Peter says, drawing your eyes away from Nat. “We understand that.”

He looks at Nat, then sighs before meeting your eyes again. “We aren’t angry that you ran. Anyone would have left much sooner. I only wish I had known so that I could go with you. To protect you.”

“I know.” You sigh. “I missed you both so much. For a long time you were my only incentive to return and I started the journey several times until I found…”

Quickly your eyes scan the room. “Where’s Thor?”

“He’s with Steve in his office. They’ve been in there for hours.” Nat tells you.

Steve. The prospect of seeing him again is both exciting and painful. Flames of anger lick at your bones and you can’t pretend that you don’t feel it.

“I don’t want to see him.” You suddenly say.

“Thor?” Peter asks, giving your hand a squeeze.

“His Majesty,” You say flatly. “I don’t want to see him.”

Nat moves closer to you, sitting to your right by your knees. “Y/N…”

“I don’t want to see him, Nat. I can’t. Not after what he said.” You’ll never forgive him for wishing he wasn’t married to you. For saying that he shouldn’t have.

You’re his wife. Whether he likes it or not…but maybe you’ll all of this go. All the feelings you never asked for. The love you never wanted.

“Y/N…with the way you fell, Steve will want to see you.” Nat begins again, trying to sound calm as she places her hand on your thigh. “It’s very similar to the way Margaret-”

“I’m done listening about Margaret, Nat. Please don’t say her name to me again.” You’re harsh with her, but you don’t feel bad. “I can’t hear it anymore.”

She sighs. “It’ll be hard to keep him out of here.”

“Lock my door.” You whisper. “Until I see the old woman, I will not see him, Nat.”

Peter squeezes your hand. “I’ll make sure he stays away.”

As you meet his eyes, you see his determination. Thank the Gods for Peter Benjamin Parker.

[bccky]

Made For Each Other

Chapter 1 - The White

Pairing: King!Steve Rogers X Queen!Reader (Royal AU)

Summary: The King of Loh, Steve Rogers and you have been betrothed to each other since you were children. Along the way, you fall in love, leading to many, if not all, to believe that you two are made for each other.

If this was true, then why did Steve lead an attack on your kingdom and force you to marry him the very next day?

Words: 770

Warnings: angst, hatred, forced marriage, forced kiss, enemies to lovers, bad Stevie (warnings will change with each chapter)

A/N: I had written this way back when I had been experimenting with dark fiction, but I couldn't make myself write Steve without a redemption arc lol. Not beta'd.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist • Series Masterlist

Ps. I imagine Steve in this series to have a body like Chris does in the Red Sea Diving Resort... Like ya know, big :) with a beard like Andy Barber and usually slicked back blond hair but like feel free to imagine him as you want ;D also, find the picture of the dress at the bottom Xx

"With the power vested in me by His Majesty, I now pronounce you man and wife." The priest exclaims joyously, though it all feels like a farce to you. 

Marriage is supposed to be between lovers, and if required, a mutually beneficial arrangement between the two at the very least. In this case, it seems like only one benefits everything, while the other loses all.

And why wouldn't it? This is no happy occasion, but an overzealous attempt to display the King's power, Steve's power.

He does not deserve the title, you decide mentally.

He's not your king. He'll never be your king.

The priest continues after stopping for a dramatic pause, "Your Majesty may now kiss your bride." 

There's a collective sound of 'aww's as Steve takes a step towards you.

To an outside eye, it must be easy to be deceived by his conniving smirk, since it may look like a shy grin. But as you stand across him at the altar, you can't be tricked. 

Steve's baby blue eyes darken as he leans forward to capture your lips, not deterred when you don't make an effort to kiss him back or even close your eyes, but cups your cheek in his palm to make your unwillingness discreet. 

You wish you could just run away and start anew with a quiet life where no one knows who you are, but you can't. Your hands are cuffed together and strategically posed so that your long veil makes it invisible to the prying eyes.

Steve's Royal Advisor and your maid of honor, Lady Romanoff, has held the edge of a blade against your lower back, which you guess is also concealed by some part of your white wedding gown and the angle you both are standing in.

You can tell Steve is getting frustrated, his grasp on your face more rough, and he glances behind your shoulder, a supposed instruction to Lady Romanoff because she increases the pressure on the blade.

It almost cuts through the skin of your exposed back, the threat making you comply and let Steve's tongue roam your mouth for however long he wishes. 

If it wasn't for Romanoff, you would've bit his tongue off. 

Now, you stand helplessly still as Steve's cold blue eyes glimmer in satisfaction at the defiance in yours as he pulls away.

His dark gaze reminds you of the previous day when he was dragging you out of your castle by your hair, showing how you were nothing more than a game to him. 

And as much as you want to slap the smug smirk off his face, you don't, knowing that acting out will only further the bratty image of yours that Steve presented you as to his people. 

You are only a trophy from his latest conquest, the infamous headstrong princess that he claimed for himself upon taking over your kingdom, your home forcefully, even though you were going to be his soon.

Steve went as far as to want you to think that you were getting a privilege since he had ordered the rest of your family to be imprisoned after a five days long war. 

"Let's see how long you last before I break you." The way he utters the words as he pulls away would make you or any other woman recoil away, but you're determined to not show him even an ounce of fear. 

You're not going to let him win.

There are thousands of eyes that watch your union with their beloved King, and you know that if you want even an ounce of their favour and support should you ever require it, being calm and composed is the only way. 

You need to be seen as a collected and resilient Queen, even a quiver in your actions can be held against you. 

So you stand straight and square your shoulders, conveying through your body language that you're not giving up. You're not going to be the one that loses. 

A new crown is set upon your head that matches the colour and the precious metals of the one that Steve wears.

It's nothing like your old tiara, though lighter in weight, it feels burdening and as if it is made up of thorns, bringing a sense of discomfort and alienation.

"I now present to you, the King and Queen of Loh." The Herald announces and Steve is quick to change his demeanor into the poor substitute of the kind-hearted king the world thinks him to be. 

He puts an arm around your waist, forcing you to face the crowd. "Smile and wave, my darling." And you do as he says, reminding yourself that you're only biding your time.

I’d love to hear what you think! Please like, reblog and comment to let me know :) Comments and reblogs make my day Xx

If you'd like to read more of my works, click on the masterlist linked on the top of this post!

If you wanna be tagged for the next part, please reblog this and mention it there 😊

Lastly, may I present to you, the wedding dress:

[misguidedasgardian]

My love, his duty // Chapter 1.2

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: You had raised his King´s curiosity, now it was your turn to entertain him through his envoys

Pairing: King!Bucky Barnes x Princess!FemaleReader (very ambiguously described)

Chapter Warnings: Talk about non fictional characters, talk about war, very tamed chapter 

+18 please. (but just for future explicit sex scenes, battles and war) 

Word Count (Chapter): 3.1k

Notes: Our reader seems to be jumping trough hoops, but don´t worry, she will jump them all.

I couldn´t help but use real history characters for a conversation she holds with a duke about military strategy, but just that, I don´t menton places, just names for context. 

2nd trial

You saw the Duke of Malibu get off his chariot

You were ready to receive him, because he had sent word of his arrival before him. He was of his Majesty´s council, he was the council man of war. He was close to the King, and as Lord Wilson has taught you, he gazed upon your form on the painting alongside the King, meaning he was a close friend to him as well.

Now his family had always been close to the Royal House, his father before him was a councilman himself of your Majesty´s father. 

Having a warning of his visit had allowed you to prepare your castle accordingly, he was of a great family and that came with expectations, so you had the help of your entire household to put the castle upside down, cleaning it to his last nook, and replacing everything that needed replacement.Your favorite room, the summer room, had received an extreme renovations to host the Duke

The House of Stark was a famous one in this and many realms, as being a family that started as blacksmiths, but rather quickly they began to make machines for war besides swords, gaining renown and the favors of the King

It wasn't a coincidence that after all these years, barely receiving visitors, you received the second one without a fortnight from your previous encounter with Lord Wilson. The King was putting you through trials, curious about your behavior and your person.

“Your Royal Highness” he said with a deep bow

“Your Grace” you greeted

You had to be carefull, every one of these men, and according to Sam, they were in high regard to King James´ heart. But every man was different, and each and every one of them would come back with different tales of you, your grace and specially your doing

You guide him and his small court inside, as Lunch was ready for your guests

“You must be famished” you started, “may I offer you lunch? we are serving a Boar that I hunted myself” 

“Nothing would please me more” he muttered with a smile

You looked at him over your goblet filled with honeyed wine, you tried to change your wine cellar a little bit with your second visitor, the way he moved, and talked told you he was worlds away from Lord Wilson. His clean boots would let you know a hunting trip wouldn't cut it with him, nor would your physical skills impress him, he was the council man of war was he not?

“May I ask what her highness finds so amusing?” he asked, as you were smiling without even realising it

“I´ve been meaning to ask your Grace” you started, like you were sharing a secret with him, “Did you come up with the idea of the armour for horses because of the late emperor Antoichus the Great?” his eyes widened and glimmered

“You know of Antiochus?” he asked, as he drowned his words himself on a sip of wine 

“Well, I personally preferred Hannibal's tactics with his elephants, but the army of the Emperor has to be properly admired and studied, don´t you think?”

And that's how you won over Duke Anthony Stark

He was quickly to get rid of his squires and companions, to have you all to himself, except for Wanda, and a couple of servants that kept pouring you wine, as you took him to the library to show him your great collections of the volumes of military and war strategies

You ended up halfway drunk in honeyed wine, playing chess with him at high hours of the night, discussing military strategies and what went wrong between the wars of the mythical Hannibal and Scipio 

He left hungover the next morning, as you let him kiss both of your rosy cheeks, he still smelled like wine as he chuckled and giggled goodbyes, and something on the verge of “Our king is an idiot, I will marry you myself” whispered to your ear

You could only smile and wink at Wanda, who looked more ecstatic and excited than you 

At the return of the Duque, all the friends meet again

“So, Stark” said James “what do you think?”

“Marry her” he said with a smile “before the emperor's son himself learns about her and steals her from you”

“The emperor uh?” he asked “the most powerful man in all the known world?”

“I´m afraid if he do manages to steals her from you, he would be unstoppable”

“How so?” Now James was intrigued. Tony Stark was the oldest of his friends, he spoke ill of marriage, he took so long on taking a wife, and even now he was just engaged, yet to be married, and it made him terribly curious about who would change his opinion, his mystery betrothed 

“She is of incredible wit, cunning and knowledge about war and strategy, knows so much, studying the greatest generals of our time, as her favorite hobby, as she would confide in me”

“But you are my counselman of war and armory” he said, impressed 

“But I'm afraid she has come toe to toe with me, in discussions of such matters”

“Well, Your Grace” he finally call upon his best friend Steve “you will visit the princess, I want your truly and honest opinion, if she is as magnificent as everyone claims, you, at the end of your stay, will extend her my invitation to join us at court”

“Yes your Majesty” he said with a wide smile “It would be my pleasure”

3rd trial

What did the visit of the King's most trusted advisors mean? Why now? was it all because of an stupid painting? it was a bold one, it had never been seen before, such a lude representation of a monarch, had it really meant so much to the King? So why send his men, his lords? Was he testing you? did he want to know how or what you were, sending his friends here, to take histories back with them?

You felt like you were on trial 

You thought fleetingly of your father, the letters you´d exchange throughout the years, fewer as the time flew by. He was annoyed, he was upset, his daughter, wasting away in a random castle, instead of marrying the King, you felt like if you had failed your life mission, you were sent as a part of a treaty, to marry the King, and you haven't done so. You had failed. You were a failure

And you couldn't go back home, even if you haven't fulfilled this part of the deal, both nations enjoyed between them treaties of commerce, food, grains, and also ammunitions and soldiers

Were you going to live in that castle all your life? never to see your family again? never married? all alone?

Your horse felt your nervousness, and acting in kind, he galloped through the woods with you on top of him, it was a fast steed, young and nervous just the perfect amount to make him cautions, his hair so black is shined with the lights that fell upon the tallest branches of the trees above you 

But then it happened, as he was jumping to avoid a root on the ground, a branch cough your shoulder, making you lose balance, as you struggled to grip it, your leg was caught on another and you couldn't do anything but brace yourself as you fell from the saddle and into the ground 

You felt all the air leave your lungs as you touched the ground. thanking it was grass and moss, and not rocks or hard ground

“Your Highness!” a guard yelled behind you, as you heard him unmount to come in your aid, as the other grabbed your horse. With his help you rose to your feet without any problem, figuring you didn't hurt anything

“Are you alright, your highness?” you nodded, still struggling to get air into your lungs. you raised your hand to tell them in a way you were fine, but still trying to regain the air that was drawn from you 

You stood slowly, with the help of one of your guards, moving all your sore limbs, a sense of rush was installed in your body, not allowing you to feel any pain, you had fell before, you knew that was a fleeting sensation and you would be more sore in the morning

“I'm fine” you muttered, as you tried to clean yourself for the wetness of the leaves, some still stuck to your clothing “Thank you” you said with a shy smile, as you grabbed your horse from the han

The ride back to the castle was more quiet, at least in your head, you focused on the scenery, the smell of the woods, the feeling of your horse between your legs. You tried to banish those dark thoughts from your mind. 

If by the time you turn 20, in a few months, you are not married, you will write to your father, to ask him to go back home

As soon as you entered the estables you jumped of your noble steed, gasping for air, as the last strode had taken all your energy, the warm of your fall dissipating, leaving your body tired, cold and in distraught

You stumbled upon the floor of the stables, struggling to find your foot. Your fall had been tough, but not enough to open wounds on your flesh, and everything seemed to move properly, so nothing was broken, rather than your camisole, and the leather tights you used under your skirt, that was damaged as well.

You drew a sharp breath, your hand instinctively went to your stomach as you tried to normalize your breathing, but it got caught in your chest, when you looked around the stable, and came across a tall figure, standing in the door of the stables on the other side.

He was the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes upon, his tall and impeccable stature, broad shoulders, blonde hair, and gazing blue eyes, his facial features so manly yet soft. His pose revealed a high standard, and his clothing and his coloring revealed the same

You forgot how to breathe

Were you in the presence of the King?

You have never gazed upon your betrothed, not even in portraits, they said he was a very handsome and tall man, was that him?

If it was, in those short seconds that you gazed upon one another, you owed him your respects, but if he wasn't´ he was the one to present to you. You tilted your head, still gazing upon him, as he did the same. His piercing gaze traveled upon all your form, taking you in, as he seemed to be in shock, maybe it was your appearance who caused such, all muddy and ghastly

If he didn´t present his respects, then you had to, and you were about to, you moved softly so he in turn, woke up from his haze, and draw his knee to the floor

“Your Royal Highness” he presented, and you draw a relieved breath

“My lord?” you said, but also asked

“My name is Steven, of the House of Rogers, Duke of York” you walked hastily towards him, and took his hand to help him on his feet. You didn't know if you felt relieved or disappointed that he wasn't your King, but still he had to regain his foot, since as a Duke, he was the highest nobility of the realm.

You remembered your lessons from your governess, the House of Rogers was a noble house, Steve´s father was friends with King James´ father. and so on, for many generations

“It's a great honor to meet you your Grace, I´am most sorry for my appearance” he dwarfed you in size, since when he was in full height you looked directly into his chest

“Your company in waiting was preoccupied, they send me to look for you, your Highness - he said

“I´m sorry then, for my tardiness to receive you, your grace, I suffered an accident in the woods I´m afraid”

“Then I must fetch the greatest physician in the realm to tend to you, for your health”  he said quickly

“I´m alright your Grace, thank you” you started walking towards the castle, signaling him to walk besides you “I am most sorry I wasn't here to welcome you properly” you excused yourself, even if you have not received any warning of his arrival

“I am the one who should be sorry” he said, “His Majesty would send me here right away, didn't give me any time to announce my arrival”

“The King himself sent you?” you asked coyly. 

“Indeed” he said, looking around but not for long as his gaze kept returning to you. “He is most thrilled with the impressions you had made on his closests friends”

“So he sent you as well?” you didn't intend to sound like an insult, but it did. But you felt immediate relief when he chuckled, instead of taking it the wrong way

“Well…” he said. He walked tall, with his hands clasped behind his back. His blue velvet clothing shone in the afternoon sun. “I am free to say I´m the closest friend to his majesty” you nodded, understanding his words. “And he send me here for, well, to gaze upon you”

“I am supposed to be his betrothed” you muttered, “And he put trials upon me, yet he doesn't speak of marriage” you were being bold, but you didn't care anymore 

“His majesty is a cautions man” he said “A king cannot take issues of marriage lightly”

“I understand” there was no reason nor need to fight him over this. You would treat this man as you did the others, find out what he liked, exploit it, and send him on his way with a smile, and maybe some wine. “Well, it's early for supper, but I do want to tend to you and your companions” you would give him what he needed from you, but nothing else, you shall speak no more of what was on your mind, as you gave him a soulless smile

“And we will be honored for it” he said firmly

“If you must excuse me” you said, “I must change into clothes more accordingly for the occasion” you were still wearing your riding attire and you felt the dirt clinging to your body

“Of course” he nodded and you bowed with your head slightly, to turn for the stairs, leaving him there standing

You were growing frustrated at the entire thing, but Steve seemed sweet, and a true gallant gentleman. So you focused on cleaning yourself, and changing into one of your finest dresses, it was blue and golden, like the colours of his majesty, and you smiled at your reflection, as Wanda help you put on your jewels as well 

When you went downstairs to met your newest visitor, you found him waiting for you just as you left him, when he saw you come down the stairs, he drawed an amused face, as he offered you his hand to support yourself the last three steps

“You look astonishing your Highness” he complimented

“My lord you are most kind” you couldn't help but blush. As you still with your hand trapped between his, walked towards the dining room, where the food was served

As you were finishing your supper, between faint conversation, Steve dropped everything to look at you, you caught on, and paid him your total attention

“The king would love nothing else but your presence at court, Your highness” he proclaimed, and then you did drop the fork you were holding

You took your time to give him an answer, you pondered in seconds then seemed hours to him, and also for you

You were a firstborn of your house, you were a Princess, and a Future Queen in your own right, but forced on a strange land to marry a King, that apparently had no intention of marrying you, but you discovered there in your own castle, that you were happy, doing whatever you pleased, reading whatever you pleased, in a charming little town. For the first time in your life, in all those 5 years you´ve been secluded here, you realised that you could do whatever you wanted.. You adored your castle, and the people within its walls, who were like a family to you. 

And now, you had picked the interest of your King, unwillingly, almost by mistake, and he wants to meet you, only for his curiosity, and nothing else, coming back to a Royal Court? a place filled with unknown people, treacherous persons, that defended their interests and their interests alone? And you were all alone amongst them 

You looked at him, directly into his blue eyes

“No” you said simply

“No?” he asked, amused, he couldn't manage to hide that little smirk he gifted you with when he found something you said amusing

“My King seems to want me to make an appearance at court, intrigued by the tales Lord Anthony and Lord Wilson had fill his ears with, I'm certain, he is curious, he wants to see me, meet me, but he does not talk about marriage” he was going to said something, but he interrupted himself “I´m afraid appearing in court as a foreign princess and not as a future queen, seems as appealing to me as shoot myself in my leg with my crossbow”

“She said, what?” he asked, clenching his teeth so hard they might turn to dust

“She said that appearing to court not being anything else but your betrothed sounds as appealing to her, as shooting herself in the leg with her crossbow” the lords close to the king broke out in laughter

“I had told you so, your majesty” said Lord Anthony “her highness is a feisty little creature”

“My King” said Vision, bowing to him, so close to him He was the only one to hear “I understand your concerns regarding the Princess, she is a stranger to you, but may I remind you the necessity of this Kingdom for an heir, an heir of Royal Blood, and the Princess´ Father, King Edward, is growing impatience...”

“I'm aware” he growled under his breath

“It's time my lord, with the rumors of the uprising so close and clear to our ears, you need to strengthen your Throne, and your dynasty”

“Very well then” he said after a long breath, “Steven you must return to her, with my word and the promise of our marriage” the Vision, as he was known, smiled widely and nodded. Steve smiled as well he vowed profusely, before exiting his majesty´s chambers to fulfill his command 

Bucky gazed upon the painting of his future Queen, the painting he had hanged on his private council´s chambers, the place he met with his most trusted advisors and friends, only them could gaze upon her portrait