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buckrecs · 1 year

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2023 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 2

masterlist | ✨- fav fics | status - complete

All of them are COMPLETE Series.

1. Chicken by @delusionalwriterr

Bucky x Reader

You and Bucky Barnes shared a strange relationship with each other and the team was getting tired of it. When a mission goes wrong, will you be forced to admit your feelings for each other or will they remain buried?

2. sweet reverie by @demxters

College!Bucky x Reader

bucky asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend but after what you thought was sweeter than a dream has you facing a harsher reality.

3. The Time of the Prey by @subwaysurf45 ✨

Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader

The younger sister of the most talked about princess in the kingdoms really can’t do much except smile and nod. When Natasha, your sister, finally goes to moves all of you to Shieldshire to marry her beloved Prince Steve you are left with your art, all alone. But one Knight took it upon himself to keep you company, and that company was all you needed to get through wedding season. Will that company last or will it be ripped away from the both of you? A war is starting and it seems targets are being made.

4. super rich kids by @traitorjoelite

College!Bucky x Reader

kids with too much money, parties every night, and an incident with your best friend’s brother is just the norm on the upper east side.

5. Bring You Home by @sunflowersoldat ✨

Bucky x Reader

Y/N travels back in time to get Steve’s help for one last mission, but not everything goes as planned.

6. The Colour of Rain by @delaber

Bucky x Reader

On the run from his violent past, Bucky has sought refuge in a small town in Mexico where he enjoys the peace and quiet of not understanding a word of Spanish. A peace that is violently disturbed when he runs into the most annoying woman he has ever met.

7. All The King’s Men by @nastybuckybarnes ✨

Alpha!King!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Your father always said that if it weren’t for your presentation, he’d think you were an Alpha. There’s a reason for that. Growing up in a world where Omegas are treated like garbage, you’ve fought for the respect that you have. Until you’re sold off to an old King desperate for a bride. But you will not lay down and present for your new husband. No, you will fight back.

8. Peaches by @noctumbra

DBF!Bucky x Reader

what they were doing was wrong, both of them knew that. it had to be kept as a secret. not everyone would understand what they have, she knew that much. they’d look at them and see an older man misleading a girl so much younger than him. it wasn’t the thing, though. that had never been the thing. it wasn’t misleading, taking advantage ─whatever they called their situation. it was love. forbidden, not-society-friendly, but love.

9. Sweet Dreams by @abovethesmokestacks ✨

Bucky x Baker!Reader

Sometimes you start talking with someone, and you realize you share an interest and a wish for a certain supersoldier to be cut som slack. Enter cupcakes.

10. Fuck Up The Friendship by @summerofsnowflakes

Bucky x Reader College AU

Fed up with having your feelings played with you decide to have some fun with a with your friend Steve.

11. A Sweet Old Fashioned Notion by @sidepartskinnyjeans

Bucky x Reader

As the dust settles on the second 'snap' Bucky has been getting to know Brooklyn again. His neighbourhood has changed a lot, but it's changed for you too since you got blipped back. Bucky is still pretty old fashiond at heart, there were things he expected from life, to get married, to have a family. Simple things that seem far away now especially when online dating is so hard. Maybe something more traditional would be good for both of you.

12. Soldier, My Soldier by @cryptidcasanova

Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

“I am the writing on the wall, the whisper in the air. Without these things I am nothing. So now, I must shed blood.” He lulled at the base of your throat. “Sweetheart, come with me.”

13. Homesick at space camp by @atlaese

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

dying on a cold spaceship lightyears away from home wasn't what you expected

14. Spirits in the House by @redgillan

Detective!Bucky x Reader

Reader is in a coma after a car accident. Bucky moves into your apartment and find your spirit still hanging around.

15. Sugary Sweet by @all1e23

Sugar Daddy!Bucky x Reader

Is it all just sugar or something more?

16. Missing Piece by @likeahorribledream

Bucky x Reader

When Bucky first arrived to the compound, Steve was his only friend and the only person he trusted himself around. That is until Steve introduces him to you, his best friend. Bucky was fascinated by how often you and Steve would hug each other. It had been a very long time since anyone had touched him in such a loving way and it didn’t take long before Bucky found himself craving your touch, but whenever you’d get too close he would flinch as if someone had hit him. His trauma still too fresh a wound for him to be comfortable with someone touching him. Then one day, he finally fights his instincts and let you touch him. He hadn’t realized how truly touch starved he was until he feels the warmth of your skin against his. Something clicks for the both of you in that moment, you had found your missing piece. As long as you were with each other, you were home. You both tried to fool yourselves into thinking you were just friends, really close friends. Friends that needed to be together almost every minute of every day and who needed to hold each other to be able to sleep at night.

17. Metal Arm and Short Skirts by @buckyarchives

Bucky x Doctor!Reader

waltzing in as the new head of the Avenger's medical division, impressing everyone, and... scaring Bucky with your incredibly short skirts. Bucky's having a hard time looking at his arm as anything other than a deadly weapon, and you're more than happy to help him.

18. Scars by @chickenfics ✨

Bucky x Reader Western AU

Running from a past that haunts you and a future that is unsure, the last thing you wanted was to take up with a stranger. Strangers, you'd learned, are almost always more trouble than they're worth. But when dangers from the life you're trying to leave behind get too close for comfort, drastic times call for drastic measures, and the stranger you'd once feared becomes the only person you can trust -- and perhaps the only person you'd call your friend. Now you both just have to make it out alive...

19. The Color of Blood by @theidiotwhowritesthings

Bucky x Agent!Reader Soulmate AU

In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

20. Everybody’s Watching Him (But He’s Looking At Her) by @writing-for-marvel

Actor!Bucky x Assistant!Reader

The entire world’s eyes are on movie star Bucky Barnes, what he’s wearing, who he’s dating, even the mystery behind why he needs a prosthetic arm - but Bucky doesn’t care about all that, he’s only got one thing on his mind, you.

21. 27 Dresses by @beccaanne814

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

You are the epitome of “always a bridesmaid, never a bride.” You think you know what love is, but sometimes you can’t see what’s right in front of you.

22. Heal by @chucksfavouriteprophet

Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

For months you managed to distance yourself from Bucky Barnes, the alpha you long for. But one night you have no choice but to comfort him, something which brings out emotions in both of you. Except it also brings out emotions in the Winter Solider, which results in a devastating turn of events that neither of you might be able to come back from.

23. Dangerous Woman by @samthemarvelfan

Bucky x Reader

You know he blames you, but you never thought he’d hate you.

24. Witness Protection by @mymoonagedaydream

Bucky x Reader

You'd only been living in New York for a few weeks when Natasha introduced you to James Barnes, the man who’d change your life forever.

25. Everything’s Better in Westview by @espinosaurusrexex ✨

Bucky x Reader

Bucky and Y/N sneak into Westview to have the perfect life. Away from late Steve and Tony, Vision and Natasha, they let themselves be consumed by suburban magic. To their surprise, however, some of these people aren’t so dead in the town. And there are some other weird things happening that make them question their sanity. But that’s okay, right? ‘Cause everything’s better in Westview.

26. Trying by @moonlight-prose

Bucky x Reader

Bucky Barnes was a new person. He survived a war with Thanos, finally getting rid of his triggers, and losing his best friend. He didn’t think there was anything else to survive. That is until he meets you in a bookstore and you become something he is scared of losing. An old villain has shown himself and suddenly you are the target of a new ploy to bring the Winter Soldier back.

27. unconventional methods by @marvelouslizzie

Bucky x Adult Content Creator!Reader

Bucky Barnes has a big problem: he is too anxious to date and too old school to enjoy porn. But he needs some kind of relief, and he needs it right now. After getting an accidental boner during a mission, Natasha suggests him an application that seems to be exactly what he needs. Will your content solve the problem for him? Or will it create new problems?

28. ephemeral by @aescapisms

Professor!Bucky x Reader

Bucky Barnes fell in love with you, but the universe isn’t all that forgiving.

29. Bulletproof by @amandaoftherosemire ✨

Bucky x Reader College AU

You, Steve Rogers, and Bucky Barnes have been the best of friends since middle school. On top of that, you’ve been in love with Bucky pretty much the whole time. Everything changed after the three of you got to college, however. Over the past couple of years you and Steve have become even closer but things between you and Bucky have been strained since the night he broke your heart. Can anything bring you back together?

30. The Heart is a Deep Ocean by @dreamlessinparis

Bucky x Reader Titanic AU

Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.

2K notes · View notes

fandoms-writings · 1 year

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Adoring Fool

Part 1

Pairing: knight!bucky barnes x queen!reader

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

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

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

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

Series Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Main Masterpost

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

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

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

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

Rather, it was the way he carried himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silent, and uninterested.

Remaining detached grew difficult when James's event started.

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

This year was different though.

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

But something was wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your gra - "

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was as if time stopped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it was time you let him go.

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

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

And he couldn't blame her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could he really go another day without seeing you again?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I was talking about you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Never," his words swallowed by your lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Forget what?"

"That I adore you as well."

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

If you liked the story, please consider checking out my Ko-Fi

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avecra · 2 years

Text

Worth This Love

summary: After a former knight is a bit too comfortable and flirtatious with you, Bucky makes it so that his former comrade knows that the Queen's Lady is spoken for.

pairing: knight!bucky x reader

word count: 6.1k

warnings: fluff, minor angst, jealous!bucky is a lovesick fool, small bit of violence, medieval times and stuff, mentions of traitorous people

a/n - this was highly requested and is the second part to The Knight and the Queen's Lady also this is widely historically inaccurate ;)

Warm sunlight danced along the exposed skin of your arms as you held on tightly to the knight that led you through the village. His brown hair flowed freely with the breeze that passed through the trees and you found yourself leaning closer to his embrace.

Still donned in his training gear, the brown leather armor basked in the shining sun, Bucky led you through the crowded ways as he continued to hold onto your hand. He glanced back at you with a mischievous smile and led you further into the alleyway between shops.

“Where are you taking me, my love?” you questioned with a giggle as you passed by small shops that were just beginning to open.

From the moment you opened your bedroom door, you had been sent a note from Natasha, one saying that you had been relieved of your duties for the day. It was rare that you got a free day, so you cherished what you got.

A muffin and a cup of tea called to you when you made your way to the kitchen. Sitting at the table by your loneself, you savored the peace while sipping your tea, relishing in the peaceful quiet.

Bucky had stopped by the kitchens and noticed your presence at the wooden table and made his way over to you. His hands were warm and gentle against your shoulders, the soft touch of his lips against your neck drew shivers out of you.

His only task of the day was to continue his squire’s training, and plan formulated in his mind. There hadn’t been much opportunity for the both of you to spend some time together, and Bucky was determined to at least spend the day with you.

And now you found yourself clutching onto your knight, with his squire a few paces back. Peter looked all too enthusiastic though, engrossed with the colorful fabrics and shiny weapons being sold within the market.

“Now if I tell you that, it will ruin the suspense, my sweeting,” Bucky said, pulling to a stop so he could press a feather-light kiss to your cheek. He glanced over to his squire, seeing the young boy look around with fascination. “Come, love, it’s only a few shops down this way.”

The corners of your mouth lifted up into a small smile when the familiar shop came into view. Hidden between two dress shops sat the bakery that Bucky found himself visiting every so often, to retrieve your favorite pastry.

“Oh, Bucky,” The scent of freshly baked pastries reached your senses and an overwhelming emotion flooded through you. Your hand came to rest on the pendant that hung around your neck and you tightened the hold on his hand, “My love, you didn’t have to do this…”

“My Lady has been working herself tirelessly to aid the Queen with her flu this past month, so I figured she could use something to lift her spirit,” he murmured, fidgeting with the bronze charm on your chest. “ And I brought along her favorite squire as well,” Bucky rested his hand on Peter’s shoulder and nudged him with his boot.

“Of course, my Lady! Captain Barnes has been very adamant about treating you to a few treats,” the young boy rambled on, and you smiled, a giggle surpassing your lips as you reached out and ruffled his curly brown hair. “And I never get to leave the castle walls that often.”

Bucky nudged the young squire and moved his gaze to you, softly grasped your hand in his and led you further towards the small bakery. His thumb caressed the back of your hand, tracing over the scars that littered your skin.

Even after the thousandth time he had done it, it never failed to make you smile.

“Thank you, my darling. You didn’t have to do this,” you said, gesturing to the shop. But Bucky shook his head and pulled you to his chest, leaning forwards to press a soft, delicate kiss upon your lips.

You melted against him and your hands reached up to grasp the thick dark fabric that covered his forearms while you felt his hands grip your waist. He pulled back and leaned his forehead against yours in a loving manner. “You work so hard and you always make sure Her Majesty is well taken care of. Please, allow me to do the same.”

Bucky brought your hands up to his lips and pressed warm kisses to both your knuckles, maintaining eye contact with you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Peter,” Bucky called out to his young squire before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Stay with Lady Y/n while I fetch her favorite pastry. Keep alert, young one. Danger is always present anytime,” The young boy nodded and stood closer to you, his hand set on the hilt of his sword. Bucky looked over to you. “I will return in a few minutes, my sweeting. The strawberry one, correct?”

You nodded, and with a final kiss to your cheek, you watched as the knight disappeared into the small bakery. A light breeze passed through your hair, one that swifted through the trees above, bristling against the green leaves. Birds chirped, landing on the thin branches.

A commotion around the townspeople tore your attention away from the singing birds to the middle of the road to see a man riding in on a horse, flaunting out the many medals that sat on his chest.

His brown hair was slicked back, blue eyes greedily darting around to the eager townspeople. He rode in on a well groomed mare, baring armor that was only worn in jousting competitions.

“Peter?” you called, the young boy hummed. “What’s all the commotion for, do you know?”

The young boy bobbed his head excitedly. “Oh, yes! Many knights are visiting for the annual jousting tournament, different men from different lands compete and represent their nation proudly. King Steven and Queen Natasha are very excited to host, I overheard Sir Samuel speak to His Majesty about it.”

A frown crossed your features as the nobleman on the horse traveled closer and closer to where you were standing, but there was something oddly familiar about him. “No, that man… who is that man?”

“Ah, that is Sir Quentin,” Peter explained, and a breath caught itself in your throat. “Rumors have circulated around the palace that he used to be a knight here, in the Western kingdom. And now I believe he is officiated with the Northern lands.”

“Quentin? As in Quentin Beck?” you asked, almost afraid of his answer.

“Yes,” Peter looked over to you, his smile fell as he took in your stunned expression. “Is everything alright, my lady?”

You hadn’t ever expected to see Quentin Beck ever again, let alone in the new kingdom you now called home. Before you had left the Northern kingdom, he had only been a close personal servant to the vicious king you once served under.

Working within the same palace walls as him, he always seemed to be near you, and that put an uneasy feeling in your stomach. He had become too comfortable, and when the queen would catch you near each other, punishment soon followed. Though he always continued to put you in situations where you would be caught.

Quentin turned his head and you looked the other way, hoping he wouldn’t recognize you in any way. Just as you were about to answer Peter, Bucky’s soft, gentle voice tore your gaze away from the conniving man. “For all your hard work, my sweeting.”

Bucky offered you a smile as he gently placed the fruity pastry into your hand. A kiss on the cheek tore you away from the thoughts swirling around in your head. You smiled and pushed past it, but Bucky knew you better than that.

“What is it-”

“My, my, Lady Y/n, mingling with the head of the knight guard, what would the King think of you?” The familiar voice reached your ears and you grimaced, shutting your eyes. Bucky noticed. His eyes flickered over to the man that stood high on his horse. “A correspondence with the Captain of His Majesty’s knight guard no less. And you never gave me a chance.”

You bit your lips to refrain from rolling your eyes. The audacity of this… churl.

A sense of anger flared through Bucky as he came face to face with his former comrade. He could remember clearly the day King Steven ordered the disgracing discharge of Quentin Beck for conspiring against the Western kingdom.

It was no wonder he now had alliances with the Northern kingdom.

“What exactly are you doing here, Beck? You have no alliance to this kingdom whatsoever, you haven’t for years,” Bucky bit out, anger laced into his tone. He gently pulled you so that he was positioned in front of you. You reached out and grabbed onto his forearm, sinking your nails in the soft fabric. You maintained a calm attitude in front of the former knight, unwilling to let him walk over you.

“Not to worry, old master. I’m not here for you or this wretched kingdom, I am merely here to win the competition,” A smile made its way onto his face as he looked over at you. “Though it is nice to see the beauty within the castle walls. And how are you, my dear one? It’s been so long since we have seen one another. Perhaps after the tournament, you will want to be with a true champion.”

A growl was caught in Bucky’s throat at the nickname and he hovered a hand over the hilt of his sword, but you pulled his hand back before he could. He glanced back at you as you looped your arm through his elbow and shot him a glance.

“You look very well, dear. Adjusting to the new kingdom are you? Getting cozy with the knights, I see.”

“What brings you here, Quentin? I assume it was not to cause trouble with his Majesty’s captain.” you nonchalantly asked, blatantly ignoring Beck’s degrading comment. You soothed your hand along Bucky’s tense shoulder, as if you could draw the anger out of him.

Quentin glanced at the close proximity between Bucky and yourself, and you noticed the clench in his fist as he tightened his grip on the reins of his saddle. You never once acknowledged his affection for you, as you had little care for him, but you were no fool.

You knew he had harbored feelings for you long ago, but you assumed they withered down to nothing. Perhaps he was slipping up names to get at Bucky.

“I am merely here for the tournament. After being promoted to second in command of the royal knight guard, my king and queen sent me here to represent the powerful Northern kingdom,” You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Perhaps I will see you there, Captain? And you as well, Lady Y/n.” He bit out the last part, and it made you slightly recoil. Bucky noticed.

“I suppose you will,” the knight replied with a bite to his tone. Peter glanced at his captain, his brows furrowed in confusion. Bucky took a step back, but not before unsheathing his sword and pointed at the cobblestone road. “Keep along the roads, Beck.”

You watched the former servant glare down at Bucky, but he was unphased. Bucky had fought in a war alongside his brothers in arms, and had dealt with his fair share of traitors. To be glared down by someone who didn’t have what it took to be a knight to a king and queen that would replace him in a second did not bother him in the slightest.

But the look Beck gave you, the way his eyes narrowed and raked over the exposed skin of your sternum, over the hills of your body where your dress fit snug over your curves. His gaze made Bucky’s blood boil.

“I won’t ask again, Beck. Keep along the roads. Horseback riders are not permitted to be on the walkways.”

The final warning seemed to finally reach Beck’s senses and he quickly urged the mare towards the road and away from you. You blew out a breath and looked up at Bucky, wincing at the clear anger on his face.

“My love?” you called softly, rubbing your hand over his bicep as you tried to draw his attention towards you. Once blue eyes met yours, they immediately softened, Bucky cleared his throat and sheathed his sword back into its place.

“Forgive me, my darling. I did not mean to get upset in front of you,” Bucky murmured and placed a tender kiss to your temple. “How… how do you know him?” he curiously asked.

You pulled back away from him for a moment and sighed softly. “The Northern Kingdom is where I used to reside, before I met Natasha. Quentin Beck was just a servant when I was employed as the Queen’s Lady, he was always near me, which would lead me to,” You gestured to the back of your hand. Bucky took your hand in his and kissed a scar that ran across the back of your palm. “Though I paid him no heed. He was still a servant when I left. I was not aware he was able to upgrade to knight, quite frankly I do not care for the matter.”

Bucky huffed and shook his head, but when your hand slid up from his bicep to his stubbled cheek, he nearly melted into your embrace. It amazed him how you could draw all the tension away from his body with just a single touch.

“I suppose he fled to the Northern Lands after Steve dismissed him,” the knight muttered. “I was hopeful that they would not be participating in this year’s tournament, but I guess I was disappointed.”

Tenderly, you ran your hand along his shoulder blades and leaned up to press a kiss to his stubbled jaw. The parchment that held the fruity tart crumbled in your hand and you pulled away slightly from Bucky to offer him the first bite.

“Thank you, my love,” you said, wiping away the smudge of strawberry sauce that sat at the corner of his lips. Bucky beckoned Peter forward and the two of you stepped forward onto the road, heading straight for the palace gates.

Your arms found its place at the crook of Bucky’s elbow and you softly squeezed his arm. His hip bumped into yours and you glanced up at him, seeing the frown almost completely vanish from his face.

But the thought of Bucky joining the tournament was still on your mind. He had stated when the festivities began that he would not be joining, only watching from the royals observation pedestal.

You knew it had to do with the interaction between him and Quentin Beck; the former knight had gotten under his skin after mentioning you. The time to ask him about it would not be until later in the day, when the palace and everyone inside settled for bed.

Till then, you would wait.

---

Bucky tightly gripped the brush that was in his hand, stroking it across his mare’s fur from the base of her neck to the side of her leg. She let out a few gentle whines and leaned her body into his, until he let out a sigh.

“Even your mare can tell that you are at unease.”

Bucky turned to the doorway of the stables, a sigh left his lips as he saw you leaning against the wood. You took a few steps into the stables and wrapped your arms around Bucky’s waist from behind.

“What troubles you, my love? You have been taut ever since this morning,” you said in a gentle, concerned tone. You felt him place his calloused palms over your hands and you felt the sweep of his thumb against your skin, over jagged lines of raised skin.

“I was not expecting to see my former comrade is all,” he murmured and turned around to hold you against his chest. “And after the way he spoke to you, I could not just sit by and idly watch.”

A giggle passed through your lips, Bucky frowned and pouted lips which only made more chuckles escape. “Is this why you are so riled up, darling?”

“He should not have talked to you like that,” he insisted with a grumble, snaking his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, nudging his nose against your skin. “You are my Lady, not his.”

Warmth crept onto your cheeks and a smile graced over your features. Even after months of pining and months of courting, Bucky never failed in making you blush. After years of being mistreated, it still shocked you at how far Bucky would go to ensure your well being.

You looked away bashfully and moved to greet Fauvel, mindlessly you scratched her snout and offered her the bits of apple you had sliced before venturing out. Bucky smirked and chuckled, leaning over to press a chaste kiss on your nose.

You observed the knight as he finished grooming his mare, smoothing out her fur before he placed a thin quilt over her back. His brows were furrowed in concentration and he moved around Fauvel’s stable, placing the brushes and picks he used to clean her hooves back in their respective spots.

The rigid muscle of his shoulders was still present even after he was done with his night routine. You could barely catch the sharp exhale of his breath as the knight made his way into the cool, crisp night.

The palace was calm and quiet, an almost rare occurrence. The past few days and nights had been nothing but busy, as both Steve and Natasha hosted events for the tournament. Some in the village and some within the gates of the palace.

Bucky sank in the chair outside of the stables, sending you a few glances over his shoulder, silently beckoning you forward. He held his hand out, gauging your movements as you locked the stable door and made your way over to him.

Grasping your hand, Bucky pulled you forward and you carefully sat yourself across his lap, the skirt of your nightdress covering a major portion of his legs. You set a hand along the back of his shoulder to anchor yourself as you sat comfortably across his legs.

“Of course, my darling. He is not my Knight, you are,” you whispered, ghosting your lips over his cheek. A shiver racked through Bucky’s body. “He is not the one who surprises me with my favorite pastries every few weeks. He is not the one who takes me on rides to the forest to see the stars shine. He is not the man who protected me from that vile lord. Just as I am your Lady, you are my Knight. And I promise you, my love, no one will ever take that from you.”

The hues of Bucky’s cerulean eyes sparkled under the pale moonlight when he gazed adoringly at you. A smile crossed his features and his arms subconsciously held you tighter. You ran your fingers through the loose strands of his hair, hands moving from his hair to gently hold his jaw. “I love you, James.”

As if he could hardly contain himself, Bucky pressed his lips against yours, his hands danced along your back, the cotton of your nightdress was soft against his hold. A gentle kiss that morphed into something with more admiration, something more heated. You kissed him back, with just as much passion, and let a breathy sigh out against Bucky’s lips.

You pulled away, breathless with kiss-swollen lips and a dreamy look amongst the beautiful hues in your eyes. Leaning your forehead against his, you began to feel the tension and anger dissipate from his body, his shoulders sagged down and he began to lean more into your embrace.

“I love you more, my sweeting,” Bucky whispered and lightly trailed his finger along the buttons of your dress, an action that drew shivers out of you. His touch always brought a cover of security, something you were still learning to adjust to.

“My love?” you whispered and Bucky let out a diverted hum. “You changed your mind about joining the tournament,” you commented quietly. Bucky shifted in his seat tightening his hold on your waist as he nodded and smiled at you with a love-drunk look. “What made you change your mind?”

The knight looked at with a coy smile. “Well, if you get to watch Quentin Beck joust for a meaningless title, then I should be the one up against him.”

“If it is meaningless,” you began curiously, pulling all the strands of his hair in your grasp. “then why go against him?” Your question did not startle Bucky, nor did it make him question his reasoning. Instead, a hearty chuckle passed through his lips and he pressed a peck of a kiss against your cheek.

“Because you have said so yourself that you have always wanted to see me in action. Well, my darling, here is your chance to see your dashing knight kick ass,” His comment made a giggle pass through your lips. “Besides, I already have the title Captain. I just get the chance to charge at a traitorous fopdoodle with a lance. Everything I have ever wanted. Besides you, of course.”

A smile graced over your features, one that made Bucky’s heart skip a beat. The silence was peaceful between the two of you as you leaned your head against his shoulder and not long after a yawn escaped your mouth.

“It is late, my sweeting,” Bucky whispered against your forehead after he noticed your drooping eyelids. You hummed and leaned further into his warmth. “We could sleep out in the cold air if you wish instead of a nice, warm, fluffy bed.” He heard you snicker as you lifted your head up.

“Come, my darling,” Bucky helped you stand up, following suit as he intertwined your hands and placed a delicate kiss upon the back of your palm. “Let us go to bed.” You smiled and nodded, satisfied that the tension had been released from your knight’s rigid, tense body.

---

The satisfaction did not last long though, as the festivities of the tournament continued well over the next week.

You hardly got to see your dashing knight, as he was busy with his duties commanding his knight guard, while you were busy attending to the King and Queen, accompanying them into the village to commence the festivities.

You had been in the presence of Natasha, staying at her side during the long events, but on the timely occasion, Bucky sometimes appeared by the spectator’s booth, leaning up to press a sweet kiss against your lips. A familiar hand would run over your hair to gently grasp your chin in his calloused, gentle grip.

But came the morning of the jousting tournament, Bucky was fiddling with uneasiness. Certainly not anxious or nervous from the competition that was mere hours from now, but from the anger that was coursing through his body caused by his former knight.

To be given a chance to knock a traitorous man like Quentin Beck off his horse with a lance was something that had been on Bucky’s mind for the past week, even longer before, when the man was still employed under King Steven.

After dressing Natasha in a morning dress, you accompanied her to the dining room, where you saw Steve chatting with Samuel, or as he would have you call him Sam, and Peter. The young squire seemed to be enamored with the grand designs of the room.

Guiding the Queen to a seat at the grand table, you poured her a cup of tea, fixing her a plate of fresh fruits and a slice of bread spread with jam. Just as you placed the plate in front of her, the King glanced over to you with a sympathetic smile.

“Lady Y/n, if I may ask a favor of you?” Steve asked and you nodded and made your way over to him. “Could you deliver the Captain a small breakfast pastry. I fear that my old friend will miss one meal, at least until the games are over when the feast begins.”

Warmth spread across your cheeks and you nodded before setting down the water pitcher on the trolly filled with breakfast foods. You swiped a muffin from the cart and placed it in the skirts of your dress. Quickly, you ran through the halls, passing by the paintings and valuable swords and shields that sat on the beige walls.

The stables soon came into view and you found yourself pushing harshly through the doors before you came to see Bucky adjusting the armor on Fauvel. His hair was tied back messily, like he had rolled out of bed and tossed it in a leather string.

“Good morning, my darling,” you cheerily called as you made your way over to the distraught knight. He turned around and offered you a small smile, one that did not quite reach his eyes. “I brought you a muffin from the kitchen, so you could have your strength for today.”

Bucky halted his movements and took the small pastry from your hands before he tore off a piece and popped it in his mouth. You took cautious steps towards him and gently placed your hand against his cheek.

“What ails you, love?” you whispered and felt Bucky place his hand over yours, softly tracing the back of your palm with his thumb.

“Nothing, my sweeting, I promise. I am merely awaiting the tournament,” Bucky said, tearing off a piece before offering it to you. “It has just been years since the whole ordeal with Beck. I was not expecting to see him the other day at the markets. The fallout with him all those years ago ended rather horribly.”

You coaxed your fingers through the fallen strands of chestnut hair, tucking them behind his ear. Leaning up on your toes, you placed a kiss to the corner of his lips and soothed a hand down the nape of his neck.

“I have to get Natasha ready for the tournament,” you whispered and he nodded. “But rest assured, my love, I shall be watching you from the spectator’s booth. Maybe you’ll give me a little visit beforehand, I have a small gesture for you.”

A smile graced over Bucky’s features, one that reached his eyes and he leaned down to place a warm kiss on your forehead. “I will be there, my sweeting.”

You smiled and brought him in for a gentle hug and a sweet kiss to his cheek before you hurried out of the stable, giving Bucky time to himself. There were still tasks that needed to be completed before you had to make your appearance at the games. You only hoped your knight would be at ease by the time it started.

---

The view from the spectator’s box covered the entirety of the jousting grounds. You stood by Natasha’s seat, fixing the loose strands of her braid before the sound of a galloping horse reached your ears. Natasha’s green eyes flickered from the open window up to you, emerald eyes glistening with mischief.

“What has gotten into you?” you murmured, tying off the braid with a small string.

“It appears your dashing knight has come to see you,” she said with a sly grin and you turned away to see Bucky making his way over to you.

Donned in navy blue colors along his protective gear, Fauvel matched him with armor on her head and the sides of her body. Bucky gripped the lance that was pointed near the ground and you stepped down the steps and met him on the patch of grass. He took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair.

“You look very beautiful, my love,” Bucky said as he dismounted Fauvel. He took your hand in his and brought it up to his lips and delicately placed a kiss against your skin. You looked at your dress, running your hand over the blue fabric.

“Thank you, darling,” you leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek. When you pulled back, you reached behind your neck and unclipped the bronze necklace that sat on your chest. “Please accept this token of my love and luck for you. I wish you a safe victory, my love.”

You wrapped the chain around Bucky’s left wrist, so that the pendant rested in his palm. A smile graced over his lips and he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I will cherish your token of love. Thank you, my sweeting.”

As you handed Bucky his token, more villagers began to file their ways into the stands and the knight could tell he was due on the field in just a few short moments. He nodded at you with a smile and kissed the top of your head before mounting onto his steed. With a final wink, Bucky rode off into the field and you made your way back to the spectator’s box.

Natasha was looking at you with raised eyebrows and an amused look on her face, and you rolled your eyes and pushed at her shoulder, muttering, “Oh, shut it.”

With narrowed eyes, you watched as Bucky got into his position, adjusting the lance in his grip. And across from him, your eyes landed on the green armor of Quentin Beck, representing the Northern Kingdom’s horrid green colors. You always believed their colors to match their rulers’ unsightly personality. His puffed out chest and lifted up helmet made you roll your eyes.

Both men stood on the field alined with the mark on the grass. Natasha grabbed your hand and smiled at you with an excited look, and your eyes flickered over to Steve as he made his way to the open window and announced to the crowd, “Let the games begin!”

Your eyes focused in on Bucky as Fauvel dug her front leg into the dirt, backing up before darting down the field. Beck followed suit, bringing the visor of his helmet down. Bucky positioned the lance in his grip and held it outwards the closer he got to Beck, skimming the tip of his shoulder piece.

Fauvel turned around and stood still as Bucky readjusted his grip, twirling the lance in his grip. You watched Beck shake his head and arms out before he urged his horse back across the field, Bucky followed his actions and repeated his movements, moving and ducking with agility.

The crowd cheered as Bucky avoided every hit, moving with ease to duck out of the way. You could see the frustration that was coursing through Beck and it brought a satisfied smile on your face.

Beck was not once able to clip a part of his lance or his armor, though Bucky clipped his opponent every single time they passed by each other. “It appears Sir Quentin is becoming agitated.”

A giggle passed through your lips and you nudged Natasha playfully. “My goodness, my Lady. I’m sure he will get a hit… eventually.”

“Bucky will have knocked him over before he gets within an inch,” Steve commented and you and Natasha giggled, turning your attention back to Bucky; noticing how his shoulders rose and fell rapidly,

His fist tightened around the hilt of the lance and he charged again, keeping the weapon pointed down until he was within distance. He raised the lance and the tip hit Beck below his chest and knocked him clean off his horse. Applause erupted across the stands as men and women and children cheered for the knight. Bucky raised his lance in victory and Fauvel reared up excitedly, softly whining in excitement.

Steve leapt to his feet and clapped enthusiastically and Natasha followed her husband’s actions, leaning to grab his elbow. You laughed and lightly clapped your hands as Bucky took off his helmet, moving his gaze from the cheers of the crowd to yours. You smiled sweetly down at him and blew him a kiss.

“Lady, go greet your Knight!” Natasha said, nudging you to the door. You looked over to both your King and Queen and saw them look at you with an encouraging look and you smiled and nodded and made your way down to the field.

The crowd that had filed around Bucky seemed to disperse as you made your way towards him. With how often you and Bucky went into the village, everyone knew about the courtship between the Captain of the Knight Guard and the Queen’s Lady.

Once you got a clear view of Bucky, you sprinted to him and jumped into his arms and wrapped your arms around his neck. Bucky held you tightly to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you anchored to him. The armor uncomfortably pressed into your skin, but you weren’t bothered at all.

“Oh my lords, you were amazing, my love!” you cried into his shoulder. Bucky felt a laugh bubble in his chest and he held you tighter.

“I had your token afterall,” Bucky murmured. You pulled back and grasped his cheek and brought your lips to his in a sweet kiss. You felt him laugh against your mouth, and the cheers from the crowd brought a heat to your cheeks.

“Well, Captain Barnes,” The sneery voice of Beck made Bucky pull away from you. He glared at Beck and unwrapped his arms from you, watching as he made his way through the crowd. His hair was tousled and messy and there were patches of dirt and grass caked on his back.

“It seems this land does not appeal for foul play,” Bucky rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “I assumed when jousting, you aim for the shield-”

“Or chest plate.” Bucky finished for him. “I could have gone for your throat, but I feel as though you have faced enough shame.” the knight replied coolly, reaching for your hand.

Beck narrowed his eyes at you and made his way to stand in front of you. “A man like this is who you wish to be with? Some buffoon who plays unfairly?”

“I can assure you, Sir Quentin I would rather be with a buffoon who plays fouls than a man who is too arrogant to admit when he has lost. You really were never told no as a child, were you?”

Anger flashed in Beck’s eyes and he grabbed your wrist tightly and began to pull you closer to his chest, but a fist connected with his nose and Beck’s grip on your wrist released. He cried out in pain and Bucky pulled you back and only then did you notice the reddening skin on his knuckles.

“And I can assure you that if you touch the Queen’s Lady again I will have you thrown in the dungeons where you can face King Steven by your loneself. Do I make myself clear?” Bucky asked, leaning over Beck, and he hummed and nodded his head. “Good. Now ride along, the journey to the Northern Kingdom is long, so you better get a move on”

Bucky grabbed your hand and led you and Fauvel away from the field. Your cheeks were aching from the smile that couldn’t fall from your face. Bucky glanced at you and the tension slipped from his body and his shoulders rose in gentle laughs.

“Yes, my sweeting?”

“Nothing, my love,” you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Jealousy is a cute look on you.”

A pink tinge covered Bucky’s cheeks and he sputtered for an excuse. “Well, I had to give him a friendly reminder that Her Majesty’s Lady is already in courtship with the dashing knight.”

You let out a giggle and grabbed the back of his neck to lean your forehead against his and whispered, “Thank you for defending my honor, James.”

Bucky pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I love you, my Lady.”

“I love you more.” you whispered before kissing him again. His hand gently held your cheek and he pulled away to pepper your face with kisses. “Now, I believe there is a feast in order for your victory.”

Bucky glanced down at his left hand to see the necklace still wrapped around his wrist. His gaze snapped back to yours and a smile made its way onto his face. Even in the dark of things, you still managed to make him smile. All the more reasons he was in love with you.

“Yes, my love,” Bucky grasped your hand and led you towards the castle gates, keeping his gaze settled on you. “Let us feast in honor of my victory.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #knight!bucky

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hollybee8917 · 29 days

Text

In the Court of the Shield and Star

Chapter 1- The Angel and the King

Plot: King Steve Rogers meets Eliza Frye who is a total mystery to him. They start to fall in love, but things are never that simple.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Eliza Frye (OFC), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Peggy Carter, Bucky Barnes, Owen Tyre (OC), Sam Wilson, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Stephen Strange

Warnings in this chapter: Assault, harassment, physical violence, animal attack

Howling. Endless howling. Eliza looked up from the parchment on which she was drawing and she moved to the window. A dim light was low over the field. As she looked out, she saw a figure. He was waving a sword but his movements were jerky. Around him, a pack of wolves circled, growling, lunging, snapping at him.

Fear filled her. The man was going to die if she didn’t help. Quickly, she grabbed her bow and her loaded quiver before running out the door. She reached a slight ridge behind the trapped man. From where she was positioned, she could see the man was injured.

Eliza raised her bow and nocked an arrow. Pulling the string back, she steadied her draw then released. The arrow whistled through the air and struck a wolf. It went down with a whimper. Instantly, Eliza repeated her motions. Nock, draw, release. Nock, draw, release. The arrows shrilled through the air hitting their marks. Soon, only three wolves were left but now they were focused on her.

The young woman slid down the ridge as the howling wolves rushed toward her. At the bottom of the ridge, she picked up her sword and prepared herself with a flame. The scarred alpha made his way over the ridge and down toward her before stopping at the sight of the woman holding shimmering steel and a large torch. It paced back and forth before letting out a long howl and dashing back the way it had come with the other two right behind.

Eliza let loose a sigh and lowered her sword and sheathed it. Then she remembered. The injured man! She took off in the direction she had last seen him. Waving the torch, she spotted him. I have to get him to safety.

King Steve Rogers groaned as he rolled onto his back. He opened his eyes to find himself in a strange bed. A window sat on his left and to his right was a wooden door. He threw back the blankets and swung his feet to the floor. The man looked down at his unclad torso wrapped in a white bandage. Who did this? Where am I?

Before he could muse any farther, the door opened to reveal a beautiful young woman. She smiled gently at him, “Oh, wonderful, you’ve woken. I was fearful that you would not. You gave me quite the fright last night. How do you feel?”

The blonde man was stunned to silence at her simple beauty so she tilted her head, “Have you a tongue, good sir?”

This simple remark somewhat amused Steve and he let out a low yet hearty laugh, “Indeed I have a tongue, kind maiden. I am most confused, however, as to my whereabouts and the situation that has led to this remarkable hospitality.”

She poured a small pitcher of water into the wash basin on the table by the door, “You were attacked by a pack of wolves. You needed aid so I hurried to your side with bow and quiver in hand.”

Steve looked down at his semi-clothed form, “You saved me.”

“I did.”

He let his eyes drift up to hers, “And you have brought me here alone?”

The girl wrung out the rag she had soaked in the bowl of water and approached Steve with it, “I did. You were in dire need and I was always taught to help those in need. Lift your chin. There was some dirt I could not remove last night.”

Steve did as he was told then he glanced around the room, “Where are my tunic and shirt? Also, I had a satchel slung over me. Where has it gone? Have you looked inside it?”

She smiled gently, “I washed them as best I could and hung them to dry. Once they had dried, I folded them and put them here on the chair. The satchel I have placed on the chair as well. I did not search your belongings. I will leave you to dress. Should you need any help, please call for me.”

Confusion crossed the man’s face, “Thank you for your aid and the respect you have shown by not searching my things while I was incapacitated. But how should I call for you if I do not know your name, fair one.”

Once more she smiled at him as she turned away, “Eliza Frye.”

Then she was gone and Steve was left alone.

Eliza was seated at her table when the stranger exited the bedroom. Steve noticed that she did not take note of him and cleared his throat causing her to shift her gaze to him, “Oh, my apologies. Would you like some food to eat, good sir?”

He nodded, “Yes, what have you to offer?”

She rose from her chair and made her way into her larder, “I have bread, cheese and eggs. I also have salted pork and cured fish. What takes your fancy?”

The king responded, “I will have the bread and cheese for now. I do not wish to eat all you have.”

Eliza tucked hair behind her ear as she stepped out of the larder with the food he requested, “You do no such thing, kind sir. Please, tell me should you desire more.”

A loud rapping came from her door and Eliza hurried away to answer it. She gulped as the rapping rattled the door. Cautiously sliding it open, she felt herself forced from the home and she hit her knees as two men shoved her down. Eliza knew why the men were there.

The two men were soldiers from a nearby fort. They plagued the little village but targeted Eliza specifically due to her living alone. The taller of the two was a soldier named Rhys Argent. He was cruel and enjoyed the torment of others. Beside him, the other solder, who was named Wendell Colby, sneered at her, “Where’s the payment you promised us?”

Eliza shivered, “I-I-I don’t have any money.”

“I-I-I. Come now. You can do better than that,” Rhys Argent mocked her. Then his tone turned serious, “Do you not recall what we said would happen if you did not pay us?”

She was too frightened to speak and could only keep her eyes forward. Rhys raised his hand then brought it down against the side of her head her cheek causing Eliza to fall over. Wendell Colby let out a low laugh, “Why don’t we start with your precious horse, huh? You want us to take it?”

Eliza said nothing which angered Wendell and Rhys more. As Rhys brought his foot up and connected it to Eliza’s side, Wendell’s eyes grew wide and he fell into a kneel. Rhys didn’t notice and continued his attack on Eliza.

“Kneel,” Wendell hissed.

Rhys did not hear and instead continued his assault on Eliza.

“KNEEL!” A voice boomed.

In one fluid motion, Rhys looked up, his eyes widened in fear and he fell to one knee. Eliza slowly rose up onto her knees then turned. Shock filled her soul. In the doorway stood Steve but not as she had seen him before. A carefully crafted elaborate crown with sapphires and black diamonds was placed upon his head. His tunic and shirt were carefully tucked in but the sleeves flowed freely without restraint. A cloak was clasped around his neck. He looked kingly.

Rhys spoke, “Your majesty! Forgive us!”

Steve hushed him with a glare. He then reached down and helped Eliza to her feet, “Are you badly injured?”

She kept her head down and shook it. Tenderly, Steve used a finger to lift her chin, “Do not be afraid. Let me show you the same kindness you have shown me. Return to your chair and rest. I shall be in once I have dealt with these two.”

Eliza did not cast a glance to the soldiers but quietly smiled at Steve, “Thank you, your majesty.”

With this she reentered her cottage.

Steve turned to the two men and spoke with authority, “Why did you attack an innocent villager? Is your command not to serve and protect my people? Are you not part of your King’s army, sworn to protect the crown and those living under it? What are your names, soldiers?”

The two men stuttered but have no coherent response. “ANSWER YOUR KING!,” Steve roared.

Wendell was the first respond though he kept his head low, “I am Wendell Colby, your majesty. My companion is Rhys Argent. We are soldiers stationed at Whitich Keep.”

Steve hummed, “Whitich Keep. I know it well. Return there and inform your commander that I shall be arriving shortly. I will deal with you at the fort.”

“Yes, majesty.” Wendell replied but neither man moved.

“Now!,” barked King Steve, “And make haste.”

The men fled back to their horses and were swiftly gone fearing any further wrath from the king.

Eliza was seated in her chair, holding a compress to her side when he returned. She was instantly on her knees without a sound. Once more, he lifted her up, “Please do not do that. Not on my account. Please sit.”

She did as he commanded and he picked up his satchel, “I have business to attend at Whitich Keep but I shall return. Before I go, have you a horse I may borrow? I am afraid mine fled in encounter yesterday eve.”

Eliza replied, “I have a mare who is broken and a stallion I have been breaking to ride. I think he is ready and would be more suited for your majesty.”

The king brushed a stray hair from the girl’s face, “You intrigue me, Eliza Frye, and I would like to call on you once more.”

Eliza lost her nerve to speak and Steve smirked, “Have you a tongue, fair one?”

She looked at him with a smile and a laugh, “Aye, I have a tongue, good sir and I use it well.”

They both laughed and King Steve Rogers motioned to the door, “Perhaps you might show me the steed I am to ride so I may hurry away and then back to you?”

She led him out to the paddock and called over the brown Stallion with a low whistle. It trotted over and she watched as Steve, the king, tacked it up. The king turned with a slight bow then swung himself upon the stallion, “Until we meet again.”

Eliza curtseyed to him then watched as he rode away.

Steve entered the village of Gramsby and observed the state of it. The town’s cobbled streets were well-kept and the homes were in perfect condition but something was missing. Slowly, Steve pulled the horse to the side of the street and dismounted the horse he had borrowed from Eliza Frye. Tying the horse to the hitching post, the king made his way to the pub. He was careful to not raise an alarm.

However, when the king reached for the door, he found it shored up from the inside. He heard hushed whispers from the inside the pub and the realization hit him hard. Where are all the people?

The king knocked on the door, “Good gentleman, I have travelled long and wish only for a drink from your establishment. Perhaps I may enter?”

A voice called from inside, “We have very little money or grog.”

The sky seemed to mirror King Steve’s mood as he rode through the gate of Whitich Keep. Above his head, storm clouds had gathered and lightening threatened to crack the sky. A tall man dressed with many medals approached as the blonde king dismounted his horse. With a great swoop, he fell to one knee, “Majesty, we are greatly honored by your presence. How may I be of service to you?”

“Save your pleasantries, General. I did not come here to bandy words. Bring to me the soldiers who are stationed here.”

“I take you would like to deal with Rhys Argent and Wendell Colby. I have placed them in the stockade. What other punishment-“

“SILENCE!” Steve bellowed as the thunder echoed in the sky, “Bring to me ALL of the soldiers stationed here.”

Fearful of furthering the king’s wrath, General Edryd Cadigan motioned for the gathering of his men. The rain began to fall as a mustering horn was sounded. Quickly, the soldiers lined up and one by one fell to one knee. The General spoke to the King, “Majesty, may I-“

Steve cut him off, “Silence, General Cadigan. Tis my turn to speak. Now, who would like to inform me of the incidents in the town of Gramsby?”

Not a single soldier spoke. Instead, they looked among themselves. The king turned toward the captain, “Bring me Rhys Argent and Wendell Colby.”

The captain nodded and walked to the stockade. Again, the king addressed the line of men, “I will only ask you once more. Why have you been tormenting the people of Grimsby?”

A young man stepped forward, “Majesty, if I may speak?”

Steve sized the lad up, “What is your name, son?”

“Aelric Hylderley,” the young man responded, “your majesty.”

Steve approached him, “What do you have to say for these men, Aelric?”

The young soldier gulped, “I am afraid that the people of Grimsby have been targeted by many of the men. The general has done little to curtail the actions of the men in this fort. In fact, he has encouraged it. Those who protested the actions of their fellow soldiers were disciplined.”

Steve bristled, “Where was the captain?”

“Spending most of his time in the stockade for protesting, your majesty.”

The king turned and looked to the captain, “Dismiss your men. I will deal with them one by one. Young Hylderley, what rank are you in this company?”

Aelric shook slightly, “I am a mere soldier, Majesty.”

Steve turned and faced his general, “You will be henceforth stripped of your rank and demoted to Lieutenant in my army. Is that understood?”

Cadigan began to cower, “Yes, Majesty. It’s understood.”

He stepped back, “Captain, take the General into arms and hold him until a new leader arrives at the fort. I have already sent back to the capital for one.”

Another soldier stepped forward, “Yes, your majesty.”

“Now, where are the traitors?”

The captain motioned to the men in chains, “Here, Majesty.”

“Hang them and any other soldiers guilty of harming my people.”

Then Steve turned and walked back to his horse, ignoring the cries of the two men behind him pleading for mercy.

Eliza was sitting alone in the cottage, reading a book, when there came a knock at the door. She rose and made her way over. Timidly, she opened the door to find the King standing before her. Bowing low, she murmured, “Majesty.”

Steve placed his hands at her elbows and matched her tone, “Please, look at me and not my boots.”

Eliza raised her chin and met his gaze, “What may I aid you with, Majesty?”

The king tilted his head, “You are a fascinating creature, Eliza Frye, and I would like to call on you again.”

She shook her head, “It would be ill-advised to do so, your Majesty. I am a commoner and as such would not be worthy of your time. You would be more suited to seek the company of a lady of the court.”

“I believe that as king, that should be my determination, not anyone else’s. I have set my eyes on you and you alone. Would you not prefer my company?”

“I would, Majesty, but I don’t know how the people would take it. I am not like the women of your court least of all, Duchess Margaret whom I hear is a great beauty.”

Steve shook his head, “Nay, you are far more lovely, compassionate and courageous. Please allow me to call on you once more.”

“Very well, my king.”

He bowed to her and turned, “I will have your horse returned to you in haste upon my arrival back at the capital.”

“Keep him. I have no need for another.” Steve smiled the mounted the horse, waved goodbye and spurred the horse toward home.

#steve rogers #original character #original female character #tony stark #wanda maximoff #bucky barnes #peggy carter #original male character #clint barton #natasha romanoff #captain america #sam wilson #pietro maximoff #king!Steve Rogers #King!Tony Stark #Knight!Bucky #steve rogers x oc

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subwaysurf45 · 2 years

Text

The Time of the Prey (8)

Summary: The younger sister of the most talked about princess in the kingdoms really can’t do much except smile and nod. When Natasha, your sister, finally goes to moves all of you to Shieldshire to marry her beloved Prince Steve you are left with your art, all alone. But one Knight took it upon himself to keep you company, and that company was all you needed to get through wedding season. Will that company last or will it be ripped away from the both of you? A war is starting and it seems targets are being made.

Pairing: Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Words: 5k

Warnings: nightmares, cuddly fluff, swearing, nudity, bucky being all cute and protective again.

Series Masterlist II Series Playlist

As thunder crashed against your coloured stained glass window as you jolted upright, both hands in front of you as if you were bracing to catch something. There was sweat running down your forehead and back, your nightgown was so damp it clung to your body. With a sigh you slouched and placed your hands behind you so you could stay seated upright to catch your breath, the sheets were also saturated in sweat.

The storm raging outside didn’t help ease you into sleep, this was the third time that night you had woken up and caught yourself at the end of a scream. The memories plagued you, and the nightmares tortured you. There were things in these dreams that were accurate, the way the whip felt against your back or the burn of the ropes around your wrists and ankles. Your brain had decided to add more and more every night, these nights you were now facing the audience and Bucky was there, watching you and not doing anything while you were whipped.

Sleep was not coming to you easily and the dreams made you think about what Bucky would actually do if he was there in time to rescue you from the tower, he hadn’t talked about it that much. It seemed he was dealing with his own internal war, you couldn’t blame him. You knew he would kill anyone in his path to get you, but the dreams were so real, that part of you was starting to fall into it and believe the mind games.

You had been here long enough to know the unguarded halls.

As quietly as you could, your bare feet took you across the entire castle, flinching everytime you heard thunder or saw the flash of lightning through the windows. The storm was right above it, the thunder and lightning was basically happening at the same time. If someone was walking in the halls this late they’d be carrying a lantern, in order to keep yourself hidden you did not, one hand brushed against the stone as you waited for the turn.

The castle was still, you didn’t hear anyone moving around at all. You were getting closer to his room, crouching forward and starting to pick up the pace to make sure no one was following you. What if there was a spy hiding around the corner?

“No,” you shook your head and spoke outloud, a hand moved to cover your mouth right away. Your brain was began to pick up the speed at which it spun new ideas, making you check over your shoulder every three seconds.

What if there was a man outside your window?

Maybe Brock has come back on a rampage to kill you.

These Knights couldn’t be trusted.

What if Bucky-

The only was to get you to stop thinking was slapping yourself in the face, a loud smack echoed around the halls for a moment before the sound died down into the stillness of the walls. Tears formed in your eyes, that hand didn’t feel like yours; it felt like your father’s.

Without thinking your hand reached for the door but before you could swing it open it opened itself. Before you stood Bucky, he didn’t look as disheveled but he did look concerned. A gasp left your lips as you looked up at him, seeing him freeze for a moment when he saw you.

“I heard something outside,” he whispered, “was that you, did someone hit you?” he reached out and took your wrist into hand, moving your palm from the side of your cheek, “who hit you?” he asked more sternly the moment he saw the red patch.

“No one,” your bottom lip began to tremble, and immediately his eyes softened, “I hit myself.”

“Darling,” it fell from his lips in such disappointment, that he gently pulled you into his room without saying anything else. Your head buried into his chest as his arms wrapped around you, holding your body as you sobbed into his bare chest, “what is going on?” he whispered right into your ear, his hands rubbing big circles around your back.

“I-I had a nightmare,” you sniffed as you pulled away, looking up at his sincere eyebrows and stormy eyes. “They’ve been getting-”

CRACK!

The lightning sounded like a whip, you could feel your scars tingling. Bucky pulled you back into his chest the moment he saw you flinch, hushing you and whispering sweet nothing to cover the sound of the storm.

“Would you fancy a bath?” He probably noticed you were sweaty, seeing the way your hair stuck to your forehead, “I’ve always found a warm bath can calm me down, make me very sleepy,” you could feel his lips move against the shell of you ear.

“Alright,” you whispered, feeling his heartbeat against your skin.

“Lay down in my bed, I’ll be right back,” his lips found your forehead before he left the room, and all you were left with was the sound of rain smacking against the window. The thunder continued to boom, making you scramble towards and bed and hide under his covers. When you got the moment to breathe you found the silk smelled like him, that unique scent you always picked up on when walking past him.

You must have fallen asleep because you would have heard the handmaid filling the bath and Bucky talking to her, explaining why he requested this so late at night. You were too tired to really compute anything, too caught up in the moment of being in Bucky’s bed.

“Darling,” his voice warmed your chest, “can I undress you and place you in the bath?” he peeled the sheet away from you face, “or would you like to do it yourself?” a hand constantly rubbed against your shoulder.

“Can you?” if you had said it any quieter you wouldn’t have been talking.

Bucky’s hand picked you up and made you stand, bending down on one knee and taking the hem of you dress. It was a soft pink colour, one that you had been wearing for multiple years. It was a little worn and had a hole beginning to bloom under your right arm but Bucky didn’t say a thing, he just pulled the fabric over your head and walked you to the bath.

He held your head as you stepped in and sat down with you, using a stool the handmaid had brought him. Right away he took the sponge and collected some water, “how’s your back?” he asked, “have you been using that ointment the maester gave you?” you could tell he wanted to see your scars, but you didn’t know if you were comfortable yet.

The shame began to grow, you could feel it eating away at you the moment your pulled your knees into your chest, “it can’t reach all of them,” it hurt to admit. Your father would had spun you around in that moment and slathered it on, wasting half of the jar and doing it wrong just to prove a point.

“Would you like me to ge the ones you can’t reach?” His voice was so much softer, like a blanket thrown over your shoulders. “I asked the maester for a bottle myself, in case you were too nervous to ask for another if you finished the cream early.”

He knew you so well.

“Thank you, and yes,” you added, hiding your face in your knees. You could hear him move around the room, when he sat back down he placed one hand on the back of your neck though nothing needed to be cleaned there. You figured out he was warming your back up to his touch, making you feel comfortable with him connecting with the most intimate part of your body.

“Do you want to talk about why you hit yourself?” the cream was cold against your skin, making you jolt slightly; and then second later from the thunder. You didn’t say anything, just hoping he was move on with silence. “I never met my mother,” his voice was deep, it rumbled in his chest as he spoke, “she was passed when I was young, a fever took her in the night, peacfully.”

As gentle as he could his fingers traced your scars on your back, making the scars you could reach simply cool whereas the scar you couldn’t burn a little. They were most likely infected but not extremely infected, you would have fall ill by now.

“My father died ten years ago,” your voice was muffled by your knees, “he died from this thing that grew on his back, they started as little dots but then seeped into his blood, my mother never really explained it,” there was no way you were going to look up now. “It forget what it was called but it’s not hereditary. He…” you quieted down fast, thinking you spoke enough.

“Keep going,” there was something about the way he spoke. He didn’t seem stressed but it was so light it felt like he was walking on a tightrope, so delicate and precise.

“He never liked me,” it was something you had accepted years ago.

“I don’t think that’s true,” people would always say that, knowing that arrange marriages normally caused hatred between the adults rather than their children.

“It is,” your head slowly moved and now your cheek rested on your knees, watching Bucky stare at your back to make sure everything was covered. “This is not something that I realized last week, this was something I lived with, it was normal for me.” only then did his eyes flick to yours, “he hated that I wasn’t a Princess, he hated the fact that I found my happiness from art instead of boys, he hated how quickly I found my own opinions,” that was something you had never said before.

“Did he hit you for it?” it was common, the act of hitting a loved one was something no one ever talked about. Growing up you would try and sneak into your parent’s room to surprise them them a cup you had made form clay only to see your father smack your moth so hard parts of her hair fell from her braids.

“He hit me becusae he could,” the moment those words left you mouth his hand stopped what it was doing, his looked at you with a small crease between his brows. “He was a King, he could do as he pleased and he did,” you shrugged, “on his death bed he told me he never loved me, he told me he cared for me the same as an exile,” you hadn’t noticed you were crying until he wiped the tears away from your face.

“Your own father said that to you?”

“He found joy in it,” when you smiled more tears spilled from your cheeks, “and when I came here I thought I would start something new with my life, create new memories to cover the old and horrible ones,” he quickly hushed you, seeing your breathing becoming more erratic, “and the only thing I got was more terrible memoires and scars to remind me-”

“You have me.”

“-even though my stupid brain is creating these nightmares, placing you in the crowed where I was whipping, showing me how you would stand still as I screamed in pain. I know that would never happen because you are…well you are you, Bucky.” Your eyes moved around the room as you spoke through one breath, not stopping to think about what your brain was feeding you.

“What does that mean?”

A small and sad smile pulled against your lips, “you’re the only man in my life that has ever cared for me-that has even liked me.” a laugh tumbled out and so did some tears, “you’re the only guy who has loved my art, who has loved my ideas and my opinions, and who has never tried to change me,” you could see tears in his eyes, “and I thank you for it.”

“Listen to me,” he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours, “you have been treated like dirt all your life, I would rather die before I join the list of men who have hurt you.”

“I have to admit something,” your voice cracked, feeling the truth begin to choke you.

“What is it?” he asked as he cupped your cheek, looking around you face for some an answer he’d never find on his own.

“I’m starting to believe my dreams,” you couldn’t meet his eye, voice shaking as you waited for a hand to hit you across the face. “All my life all I’ve ever known is people wanting to leave me-”

His lips pressed against yours so gently it almost felt like he was hovering in front of you. The words died on your tongue, as his hand pulled you closer, making sure you couldn’t pull away and continue to talk. This was the only time you were happy he cut you off from speaking, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

“I forgive you,” he breathed, “I’ll always be there, and if this night doesn’t prove it to you then I will do whatever to make it known that I will never let you see an ounce of danger ever again, do you understand?” Now both hands hugged your face, making you look at him and see his passion, “do you?”

“Yes,” you nodded, feeling the way he held up your head for you, “I’m sorry I let it get in my head-”

Another kiss, this time much shorter but just as deep. “Please,” one hand pushed some hair out of your face, “right now you are hurting and just like wounds get infected before they heal, so does your brain. It may feel off right now, not knowing what to understand and believe, but if I can be of any service to you I will, and right now I’m telling you-” he cleared his throat, from how close you were you could see his eyes glaze over, “right now I’m telling you I love you and that I will spend every day proving to you that you deserve all the love I am prepared to give you.”

It was so unbelievably hard to focus on his words and his kindness, you had never been subject to this much attention before, it was a different world to you. “Bucky,” you whispered, “you love me?” your voice cracked as you spoke, not allowing yourself to fully say the words in order to keep you from believing them.

“Since you noticed me staring at you, yes,” a bashful smile pulled on his lip, a boyish smile you had yet to see from Bucky. You couldn’t help but adopt one as well, tucking your chin into your neck.

“I-” it was as if your throat closed up on you, keeping you away from those words. He could tell you were trying to say it, his hands rubbed your cheek as a way to encourage you to speak those words he had been dying to hear. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, “I love you too,” the weight that was lifted felt better than the chain breaking off of your hands.

You both stared at one another for a while, basking in the feeling of pure and untainted love. His eyes were glued to yours, there was a sparkle too them not even your mother possessed. His face was so beautiful you pictured what he would look like on a painting, you scanned him to trying to figure out how to add the shadows to show his beautiful cheekbones or what shade of blue to best represent his eyes.

He was art.

“Stay with me for the night,” only now did you realized he had never once looked beneath your chin, his eyes stayed on your face though a naked women whom he loved was sat in front of him, you even forgot you were the only one in the bath for a moment. You nodded slowly but deep down you were eager, taking both his hands and using his aid to get you out of the tub.

You stood before him, in a clean nightgown and freshly cleaned scars.

You had never known the feeling of being loved by a man before, the thought that a man could posses the most tender emotion was a myth in your eyes. Everyday, constantly, Bucky had no issues proving you wrong. He was a Knight, harsh and brute. He was also your Bucky, understanding and warm. The openness of him was what shocked you to most as you laid on your side with him wrapped around you from behind, he so freely winked at you in public, Natasha and Steve don’t even participate in that.

You had caught him many times walking to opposite way in the hallway, he’d pick up his stride when he saw you round the corner. The last time no one was there, he pushed you up against the wall and kept his face seconds away from yours, his nose brushing against your cheek as he spoke deeply about missing you. If there were other guards in the hall he’d still reach for you and gently squeeze your hand from a moment before breaking away as he continued to walk, looking over his shoulder to you until you were out of site.

Even now, as you laid in the bed that did not belong to you he placed kisses on your shoulder; right over a scar. His thumb that belonged to the arm that was slung over your waist brushed gently against the nightgown covering your stomach, that little movement added so much weight to your eyelids. Every so often he’d whispered something in your ear, telling you to either breathe or go to sleep.

“If you have another nightmare and I’m not already awake, just push me a little and I’ll be there, alright?” his breath curved around your ear, you nodded and closed your eyes. The warmth of the bath mixed with Bucky’s warm body wrapped around yours was everything you needed to fall asleep.

********

The window in your room did not face the sunrise, high noon was when you had a complete ray of sun shoot through the glass. Bucky’s room was facing the right way, he had rolled in his sleep and rested on his stomach, leaving the sun to shine on your face.

You had been awake for a while, the feeling of a new bed never allowed you to have a good sleep. You woke up facing him, his lips were parted and his long hair was all over his face; it currently was tucked perfectly behind his ear because you couldn’t resist. Your lip pouted when you finally noticed the little spot of drool on his pillow, it was the cutest thing.

Most people viewed royalty and Knights as these extremely proper people, someone who was on guard all the time and never got a break. Knights were stoic and almost statues, they never smiled or engaged in small talk.

But Bucky was different. He smiled at you no matter where he was, he didn’t change who he was when he was around your mother, and he drooled a little when he slept. In a perfect world to an outsider he was so imperfect, he was human and you loved it.

Slowly, your thumb caressed his cheek, selfishly wanting to talk to him instead of staring. It didn’t take too long for him to wake up, stretching immediately and wrapping his arms around you, quickly pulling you into him. A deep hum rumbled in his chest, for a moment you thought he was still asleep and reached for you like another pillow, but he began kissing the crown of your head.

“Good morning,” you whispered, running the pads of your fingers down his chest.

“Too early,” he grumbled, “go back to sleep.”

“I can’t,” you even closed your eyes, “I’m used to not getting sleep and this is a different bed.”

“I see,” he finally fully opened his eyes and looked at you, “for someone who isn’t a Princess, you still look like one all the time.” He kissed you before you could start, rolling over and making you lay on your back, he slotted himself between your legs. The kisses were slow and sloppy, not caring how they landed on your lips. When you pulled away from one another was long and drawn out as your hands wandered on each other’s bodies.

“This is so bad,” you giggled, knowing you could get into so much trouble if you were caught.

“Don’t worry about it,” his voice rumbled through is chest, his lips right by your ear your could feel his breath fanning over your cheek.

“I should head by to my room before someone goes in there looking for me,” you peeled away from him and heard a whine when you sat on the edge of his bed.

“Alright,” he laid on his back and watched you get ready to leave, making you feel warmth spread all over your body, “if you ever need another night like that again, please stop by, the thought of you riddled with nightmares pains me.”

“I will,” you smiled and stood with one hand on the door knob, he looked like he didn’t believe you, “I swear it!” you laughed skipped towards him and placid gone last kiss on his forehead.

“I love you,” a dopy smile graced his face.

“I love you too,” and with that you left the room to sneak back to your chambers, skipping along the tiles and smile spread wide across his face.

NEXT EPISODE

Thanks for all the love and reading, if you enjoyed don’t be afraid to reblog!

- Rambo <3

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vellicore · 1 year

Photo

So I sneak out to the garden to see you We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew

Knight!Bucky x Princess Moodboard

Made for @the-slumberparty’s Wednesday week 1 challenge.

#knight!bucky #knight!bucky barnes #navy and roo’s sleepover #bucky barnes #bucky barnes moodboard #bucky barnes moodboards #mickeyhenrys moodboards #mickeyhenrys moodboard #knight bucky barnes #knight bucky

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griff-us · 2 years

Text

TITLE: Can't Pretend Part: One | Word Count: 2,608 NEXT: HERE

PAIRING: Knight!Bucky/Princess!Reader (Black Reader)

WARNINGS: Violence, character death, gore, depictions of violence and death. Smut, eventually. Drama. Run-of-the-mill toxic masculinity. I will update as needed.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

SUMMARY: A bastard knight. An heir to a throne. Both forced to abide by the rules of their station---the roles they were born into. Will they be able to maintain the flames of their love, or be burned by them?

NOTES: I love court intrigue, and drama. I also love the idea of knight Bucky. So here is a butt load of it. I intend this to be multiple parts, though I am not sure how many. But, enjoy! Let me know what you think!

The sun is brutal even from underneath ornately ornamented awnings. Women sit among the makeshift wooden stands fans in hand as they fervently gossip about the latest on-goings and affairs of court. Such drivel; devoid of imagination or spark---always the same lackluster accusations and rumors. Y/N had not come to chat about such things; the tourney always interested her far more. The fanfare, the sport, and on occasion, the bloodshed. Steeds tough as steel gallop the runway on which men with more gall than the average noble ride atop. Metal clatters, men hoop and holler, and another knight is knocked from his horse. Yes, far more interesting than who is bedding who, and for how much.

Y/N claps along, back straight as a board. Tightly coiled locks pool from the crown of her head where they remained pinned. Gold adorns her skin in necklaces, earrings, and bracelets—her favorite choice as it accents her darkened complexion so tastefully. A perfect visage of her house; proper and fine. She watches with enthusiasm as the second round of riders enters. One catches her eye as he leads his horse toward her pavilion in a flashy show. Blackened steel glimmers beneath the sweltering sun; Y/N notes the wolf’s head pressed into the metal, and her heart nearly shatters in her chest. She knows that sigil anywhere.

As he nears, the knight lifts his visor to reveal hues like that of the oceans so far off. Y/N notes the beads of sweat that adorn his brow as he lifts his lance toward the bottom row closest to her. However, before the knight can speak, another woman stands. Y/N can’t help the curl in her upper lip at the sight of Lady Mistell. A crotchety woman so desperate to be wed again.

“I presume you have come to ask for my favor, Ser James?” Lady Mistell inquires with an upturned nose, as though she may consider denying the request. Odd though, that she would assume someone of such high station would ask the favor of a widow with no coin. Silence grips the stands then, and Y/N watches with an amused sort of smirk as all unfolds. So typical of James to make a scene. A shame then, he had been absent from court all these years.

“Apologies my lady—” Ser James bows his head, but his gaze drifts to Y/N who notices immediately, as she does with all things. “My princess…” A breath catches in the back of Y/N’s throat, and her mind reels with the implications of his coming request. Is he daft? “…it would be an honor to carry your favor.” All eyes turn to Y/N; there will be talk of this no doubt. There had been rumors of their budding romance much to the disdain of her father. In fact, the king had hated it so much he all but sold the knight into a fortuitous marriage of station and coin that sent him across the seas. To approach her in such a way, and after no warning of his impending return---well Y/N is sure the rumor mill is already churning. But… she must be seen as a gracious host. This is her tourney after all.

Y/N rises as her hands work to smooth the skirts of her dress. Each step down from under her awning feels as though it adds another ten pounds to her shoulders, but they are calculated and careful. Eyes remain on Y/N as though she were the centerpiece in a show, and she often is.

“Ser James.” The Princess nods to him once close enough, and slender fingers adorned with jeweled rings toss down the yellow ribbon that had been tied to her wrist---the color of her house. “Do well not to sully it, my knight.” Her tone is soft so that only he may hear. Y/N watches as the knight maneuvers to catch the ribbon and his gaze holds hers with a wide smirk as dexterous fingers quickly tie it to the end of his lance.

“I would not dream of it, my princess.”

-----

The day wanes. The sun and her restless rays begin to dwindle, and Y/N walks the grounds. Nobles and soldiers alike make their approach, each bowing their heads and giving thanks for her hospitality or commenting on the exquisite taste of the food and drink. She responds in kind with smiles and equal thanks for their participation. This is the matter of her station she finds so---tiring. The politicking, the people pleasing when Y/N wishes for nothing more than a bath and perhaps a book.

“You look rather bored, Princess.” That familiar voice brings her from her thoughts, and Y/N turns. Ser James stands, the bulk of his armor now removed, a tower compared to her rather small self.

“There are only so many ways to give gratitude to those who would rather you dead.” Her tone is light despite the subject matter, and she does well to hold a simple smile despite the grin that threatens to break across her face at his presence.

“From what I hear, my dear princess-“ he falls in step with her then, far enough apart not to gain the attention of prying eyes. “-they adore you, the people. Your people.” James peers down at her from the corner of his eyes, and Y/N’s signature smile drops to a frown.

“If you ask my father—”

“He is a fool.”

Y/N halts her steps, neck craning to hold Ser Jame’s gaze. She does not falter, and the edge in her tone is rather commanding. “You will do well to remember he is your King, Ser James.” A pause.

“Are you upset with me, princess? I do not remember you typically taking such a tone with me.”

Y/N snorts; something far different from her typical façade. It always came so easy around him, the way her knight could break down walls and barriers meticulously crafted. Like a mason building the most exquisite of temples, only to be brought down by some greater force. It is sad really, how he still has this effect on her. “If I remember correctly you left, not soon after promising to ask for my hand. Off to marry another, or so I heard from rumors. How is your wife, Ser James?” venom drips from the tip of her tongue, and James does not falter. He deserves this. Even if she well knows the games they must take part in---no matter how much it wounds the heart.

“Dead.” A simple explanation, still, he explains. “Not a week after our wedding. Consumption.” James tilts his head to the side while he watches Y/N’s face shift through a myriad of expressions.

“I—am sorry for your loss, James.” The world is still around them for a moment, seconds really. He wants to remind her of his nickname, one bestowed upon him when they were children. To hell with titles and perpetuity and this blasted game they both have been forced to play! Yet, he reframes. Instead, James bows his head gently, hues turning soft as though that may convey how earnestly he means the following sentence. “You have nothing to apologize for, my princess.”

“James---” Y/N reaches for him, only for the mindful knight to step back, severing any connection her mind may have imagined.

“You’ve others to attend to—” another bow, this one so much stiffer. “—until later.”

Y/N stands hands held at her middle as the man she loves walks away from her for the second time in her life.

----

“You will scuff the floors if you keep pacing like that, my lady” Natasha hums from across the room her languid frame tossed over the crushed red velvet fainting couch as she thumbs through the pages a book. Y/N huffs; her mind racing and anger threatening to froth over like a pot left to boil too long.

“How dare he show his face, unannounced, to my tourney only to tell me of his dead wife and lament his apologies to me!”

“Lament is a strong word.”

Y/N heaves another sigh, what would seem to be the hundredth of that moment and throws her body down near her friend. “I wish to never see him again.” Natasha sits up just as Y/N’s head falls into her lap. The two women had become fast friends since her arrival at court as a foreign dignitary to Y/N’s father. It had not taken long for the woman’s talents in espionage to make themselves known. Within a month’s time, Natasha had cemented herself as the King’s spymaster, and the Princess’s closest of confidants due to the amount of time spent in one another’s company. Now, the two are nearly inseparable, and rarely seen without the other.

“You are being rather unfair, Y/N.” eyes rise, a firm slant set upon Y/N’s lips. But, Natasha continues. “The man was married off due to your father’s disapproval. He had no say in his marriage. And to become a widower after such a short time.” A pause. “James could have cared for that woman and still loved you. Two things can be true at once. We both know he is not a cruel man, Y/N. He is forced to play a game he has no control over. As are you.” Natasha presses a single finger against Y/N’s forehead for emphasis.

“Yes. Yes. Born to rule and tasked with the problems of the kingdom only for mine to be cast aside.” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“You are not simply a princess meant to be wed to some lord, or prince for political gain, my lady. You are heir to the throne; love has no room in your life. The throne takes precedence overall.”

“I wish you would cease reminding me, Lady Natasha.”

Both women fall into a comfortable silence. Beyond the thick walls of Y/N’s personal apartments birds sing and servants mill about their duties. Somewhere off in the distance, a lute plays a languid tune just as the sun begins her descent from the sky.

“I have missed him.” Y/N finally relents her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know, my dear. I know.”

----

The end of the week brings yet another gathering of nobles, and no sign of Ser James. Y/N sits to the right of her father at their table fingers merely toying with the now cold bread on her silver platter. A band plays a tune at the other end of the hall, the sound loud and obnoxious beneath tapestries meant to bring warmth to the room. Y/N finds it suffocating. A fact most evident by the rather sour expression painted on her face.

“Go and dance, daughter.” The King ushers her forward with both hands; fat fingers adorned in countless rings and shiny things. Spoils of war, and conquest. Y/N sighs gently but abides by her father’s wishes. His temper has been that of a wild dog as of late; content one moment and then rabid the next. She stands, golden gown of satin and lace cascading down each step toward the center of the hall. The band halts its tune in time for someone far off to announce her presence. All cease their movements for a moment to bow or courtesy in respect. Y/N nods solemnly in return, hands clasped at her front while she waits for one brave man to ask her for a dance. The others continue about their jig.

“I don’t remember these gatherings being so boring.” As if summoned by the Gods themselves, Ser James all but manifests from the crowd. Y/N smiles gently, not before correcting her features and donning her typical stoic glance.

“Perhaps because you spent all your time at court galivanting around and challenging noblemen to duels.” James beams at Y/N, happy to hear her speak what seems so fondly of his time spent at court. His lips curl just so in that way they do before he laughs.

“Yes well….” He pauses, chin upturned, and brows taught at their center. “I don’t really have an excuse for that.” Y/N chuckles softly to herself, mindful of the eyes that watch over them. “Come, dance with me, Princess.” Ser James holds out a hand to her, and it is as if the world freezes for a moment.

There are implications to this dance; implications in everything Y/N is seen to do. To dance with a man all but sent from court for the fault of asking for her hand in marriage? To dance with a man who returns to court, unannounced, so shortly after the death of his wife? Scandalous. Salacious. But he stands before her in dashing attire; the sigil of his house forged by his own hands sewn into blackened tunic. His hair half pulled back to keep from his eye’s cascades down wide shoulders and stubble has begun to sprout since their last meeting at the tourney ground. Handsome indeed, and by Gods she want nothing more than to take his hand and dance as they used to.

“You are still in mourning, Ser James.” Words tumble from her lips before any thought can really be applied to them, and James’s lips turn into something akin to a frown.

“I am rather tired of all these unspoken rules, and I know you are as well, Princes. Once dance? As we used to.”

Y/N nods absently and slips her hand into his own, so massive in comparison. She wonders briefly as he tugs her deeper into the dance floor how they may feel against her skin. The band begins another song, one she and James had waltzed to plenty of times while hidden away in the gardens. Both fall into step with one another easily; Y/Ns palms against his own, the other pressed against the broad expanse of his chest. This close he smells of leather and grass. She levels her gaze past him while James sweeps her across the floor. There is no tell how much more of her demeanor she may lose were she to become lost in his eyes.

“I see you have not lost your touch.” He speaks suddenly, rocking the princess from her thoughts. Y/N peers up, her heart hammering in the center of her chest.

“Surprising. I have little time to dance between classes and lectures.”

“How boring. No more nightly escapes into the woods?” Ser James inquires with a knowing smirk, and Y/N can not help but roll her eyes.

“I am too old for such nonsense.”

“And who told you that?” his head dips lower, the point of his nose skimming the defined line of her cheek. His breath fans past her ear; Y/N sputters, brows creasing and jaw tight. Everyone. From her ladies in waiting, to her father, to his advisors---you are too old to enjoy such things, Princess. An heir must always be seen as dignified. Heat envelopes her face; embarrassment evident. And after a moment’s silence the sudden realization of just how undignified she seems now grips her.

“Y/N….” James regards her with concern, and it is as if she is snapped back into reality. The princess pulls away suddenly, hands clasped at her front. James watches as sadness seems to overtake her.

“Thank you for the dance, Ser James.” She nods and begins her walk back to her seat by her father’s side. James bows stiffly and watches her retreat; not before the hardened gray hues of the King glues him to the spot. The king need not say a word. James can decipher enough from looks alone.

Leave.

And so, he does.

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky/reader #bucky barnes/reader #knight!bucky #buck barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes x reader #y/n insert #Sebastian stan #black reader #ff tag

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pandagirl45 · 6 months

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Something easy. I was going to go full out, but my shoulder was acting up. And I am all in a weird funk again.

#tony stark #bucky barnes #winteriron #fanart #royal au #prince!Tony #knight!Bucky #Sir white wolf if you will

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ruckystarnes · 1 year

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Title: Meet Me in the Pines Author: RuckyStarnes Card: B105 Rating: Teen Event: @buckybarnesbingo Square: U3 - Medieval/Fantasy Characters: Bucky Barnes (James), OFC!Maeve Ship: Bucky x OFC Words: 2,975 Warnings:kisses, fluff Summary: Sequel to Enchanted Kisses - Maeve gives James a note to meet her in the forest once dark has fallen. Type: Moodboard | Fic Inspiration: The Pines by Roses & Revolutions

James sighed heavily and ran a hand through his brown locks. It has been three days since they had kissed in the forest; three, long days of internal torment as he would answer the king’s questions about his daughter, schooling his features to make sure he didn’t let the king on about anything awry. He had been avoiding her as best as he could, making up excuses as to why he couldn’t accompany her on a ride to the forest or for a walk around the grounds. He had this unsettling feeling that someone knew their secret ever since he heard snapping of twigs while he was embracing her.

“James!”

The sound of his name snapped him out of his thoughts as he turned to see one of Maeve’s ladies in waiting walking, Natasha, towards him. He nodded his head slightly to her which she scoffed and rolled her eyes too.

“Oh stop it. You’re my cousin,” she laughed. “The princess wanted me to give this to you.” She tucked a lock of her fiery red hair behind her ear and raised her brows. She held out a bit of rolled up parchment to him, a twinkle in her eyes.

Did she know? James thought. Natasha always knew what was going on around the castle, even if you think she wasn’t there to catch you. She always knew.

James raised his brows at her in return, taking the parchment from her outstretched hand. He unrolled the parchment, eyes scanning over the looping words of Maeve’s handwriting. His heart started to beat fast as he read the words:

Meet me at our spot in the woods after the servants feed the horses.

James swallowed hard, rolling the parchment back up and refused to look his cousin in the eye. He contemplated on asking Natasha to make sure Maeve made it safely to the spot in question, but before he could even raise his eyes, Natasha answered him.

“I’ll make sure she will be there, unseen of course,” she smiled reassuringly. “And your secret is safe with me. Don’t give me that look. She has told me everything in her life since we were little kids.”

He looked at his cousin with wide eyes, shocked that Maeve had told her about the kiss they had shared in the forest. He nodded at her and turned to leave, his hand clutching the parchment firmly, his heart pounding viciously.

The rest of the day seemed to pass slowly for him as he waited for the time to slip out of the castle. He was distracted during training, having been knocked down countless times by his friend Steve.

“Where is your head?” his friend asked him, extending a hand to pull him up off the ground.

James growled as he pulled on his friend’s grip, pulling himself up with the help. “It’s–places,” he replied with a sigh.

“The princess giving you trouble?” Steve mused, slapping his friend’s shoulder after he had gained his footing again. “I don’t know how you do it, Jamie. I remember she used to lose her nurse when she was a wee one. Actually, I think you were the one that would help her escape back then.”

James looked at his friend and gave a small smile. “Those days were a lot less complicated than they are now. Who would have known that growing up would make the world less sense than it was then.” He looked down at his sword and brushed off a bit of moss and dirt. “Shall we go again?”

Steve shrugged and gave his friend an odd look, one that James could not decipher. “All right, friend, we shall, but I am starting to think you enjoy being on the ground.”

And if James did enjoy being on the ground, he would say his friend was correct, as Steve continued to knock him down.

Dinner went by faster than he anticipated, he tried his hardest not to look at Maeve while sitting there in the hall with the rest of the court. When he did catch a glimpse of her, she wasn’t looking his way. She would be talking to Natasha, smiling or laughing, her hair pinned elegantly away from her face, no doubt the work of Natasha and Maeve’s other hand, Wanda. He had excused himself once everyone was finished.

Darkness had fallen during the meal as the days had started to shorten after the harvest. He hoped that Natasha reminded Maeve to wear a cloak as the nights are cooler than the days; he would hate himself if she had caught a sickness because he had agreed to meet her in the trees. He pulled his own cloak around his shoulders, fastening it with the pin before heading out towards the tree line.

He waited for what seemed like hours in the almost silent woods. He found a fallen tree to rest on as he listened to the small animals bound, rummage, and scurry over the fallen foliage and sticks. A small snap had him turning his head to see an impressive stag walk through the trees, oblivious to him. The sight of the animal made James scoff, wishing for once he had Clint with him to take down the prized animal. Another snap sounded, this time it was accompanied by hushed voices, the combination scaring the animal, sending it bounding off.

“Ah, Clint would be jealous not to be here to see that,” a voice exclaimed somewhat restrained.

He knew that voice belonged to his cousin. He stood up quickly, a habit that was drilled into him when he was training: royal presence deserves respect and honor. He could see two forms approaching, both wearing dark cloaks that fell around the equally dark skirts they wore.

“He would also be irritated that you scared it off, my cousin,” he replied with a smirk. The moon wasn’t full enough for him to get the full details of Natasha and Maeve, who stood near her, but he knew who they were and didn’t have to worry about being tricked; besides, his cousin held a lantern out from her body to light their path.

“Evening, my lady,” he nodded, acknowledging the woman next to his cousin.

“James,” Maeve replied with a ghost of a smile before turning towards Natasha. “Do you mind waiting by the tree line with Steve?” His cousin nodded with a smile and looked at him briefly before turning to navigate back towards the edge of the woods.

They remained silent for a moment before James spoke.

“Steve–”

“Natasha fancies him, besides, he caught us almost out of the gate. He can keep a secret,” she said plainly, her arms wrapping around her middle. She shuddered and let out a shaky breath. “I would have put on furs if I knew it was going to be this cold out here.”

James smiled and unclasped his pin, and threw his cloak around her, hands rubbing her shoulders.

“What about y—”

“I am warm enough,” he replied, “now, m’lady, what is it that we needed to be under the cloak of night and risk rumors to be spreading by dawn for you to speak with me?” He could see her eyes shift slightly to her right, blinking slowly; it was a look he knew that meant she was thinking.

“Maeve?” he asked softly, his hand taking hers. They were cold to the touch, so his other hand followed suit, grabbing her other and holding it as well.

“James, I–” She looked at him then, her eyes wide. They were searching his face for something, but he wasn’t sure what the inner conflict she was dealing with. With a deep breath she hangs her head and shakes it. “Father wishes for me to be married, before next planting season,” she whispered.

James’ fingers tightened slightly around hers. He remained silent, unsure of what would come out of his mouth even if he tried to speak.

“I told him I wish not to,” she rushed up, her own hands squeezing his, “I’m far too young to be married. He argued that Mother was five years younger than I when they were betrothed. But I don’t want to marry some stuffy old king or pig headed prince.”

“What your father says–”

“Isn’t law to me!” Her voice rose then, her brows knitting together in her furious state. “I am not his thing he can just give to just any man.”

“Maeve,” James said softly, one of his hands coming up to rest against her cheek. “Breathe. Have you spoken to him about this?”

Maeve gave a heavy sigh and leaned into his touch. “No. When he spoke of this to me, I refused to listen and left. Mother isn’t happy with the decision either. She was one to always say to marry for love. But who really marries the one they love? Servants and the country folk, and according to my father, I cannot be that low when I am destined for better. What I am is destined to be unloved and used by someone who I know nothing, if anything, about.”

“Is this why you wanted to come here tonight?” He wasn’t sure why she had wanted to meet in the woods after everyone had readied themselves for sleep. There was a small part of him that was hoping they would be able to talk about what had transpired between them in the woods three days earlier. He had dreamt of kissing her again, feeling her pressed against his body. He was hoping she was coming to him with something better than the notion she was going to be married off after the harsh season.

“Yes,” she rushed out, “maybe. I’ve told Natasha what happened that day in the woods.” He could feel her cheek warm further under his touch. “I told her that I wanted a life with you, that my brother is the one to rule this country. I want my own life, and that to be with you.”

James could feel his heart hammer hard in his chest. She did want to be with him even after their shared intimate time days ago. A small smile tugged at his lip but he refused to feel happy about the confession when, according to her words, the king had other plans for her.

“Maeve, I would love to have that too, but to defy your father, the king–”

“We can run away.” The words came rushing from her mouth before she could stop them, like they were a thought that came rushing out of her head before she had a chance to make sure it was something that should be said.

“My darling, we would be sought after and found. And I would be the one to have to deal with the repercussions, because I am the man. They would assume I stole you for nefarious reasons.” He frowned at the scowl on her face. “Don’t give me that look, you know I am being reasonable.”

“But you are of noble blood, surely he would think that would be fit for me. He has been friends with your father since they were children and Sir George is one of his favorite men on his council. If we should tell him we both love each other.”

James’ stomach fell, her words had fear running through him. “If your father has made up his mind, then there is nothing we can say or do that will change it.”

“Talk to your father,” she pleaded, and he could see her eyes were welling up with tears. “Talk to him! Maybe he can talk to my father. Make him see that his spare heir doesn’t need a kingdom.”

“But if he has promised you to someone else–”

“I rather jump off the tallest part of the castle to my death than to be with anyone else but you, James.”

Her admission made him pull her close, hugging her.

“Don’t say that. Never wish for your death for a life without you where I cannot see or talk to you would be too painful,” he whispered into the cloak. “I shall speak to my father, and see what he advises. But you must know that your father’s word is final.”

“If he should say that I cannot be with you–”

James pulled back and placed a finger to her lips. “Then we must follow it. As much as it pleases me to hear that you would rather give up a life of comfort and ease to be with me, I still cannot think of defying my king, your father. I took an oath–”

She pulled back from him, her hand still in his but looking at him with a scowl. “You rather pledge your allegiance to my father than your love to me?”

“That is not what I am saying,” James replied, keeping the exasperation from his face and voice, “I am saying that he is the law. People who go against your father get hung, if they’re lucky. You know this.”

And she did. One of her ladies was found to be a spy for the king’s rival to the throne, and she was put to death by beheading. Her father wasn’t one to take any sorts of treason lightly, and running away with the princess would be treason.

“I will talk to my father, I will ask his advice,” he went on, his free hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Please be patient. We are five moons away from planting season; we have time.”

She nodded and stepped towards him; he could feel the heat radiate off of her as she circled her arms around his shoulder and lifted onto her toes. Her kiss was feather soft, almost as if it wasn’t even happening.

“I will keep you to your word,” she whispered against his lips and she kissed him harder this time, her body pressed to him as her hands moved to grip her shoulders like she needed him to stand.

It took a second for James to realize she was kissing him, but when he did, he held her head and pulled her so she was flush against him, reciprocating the kiss with just as much fever as she was giving.

“Maeve,” he breathed, fingers flexing to comb through her hair gently, “I will give it my best for you,” he promised, “but promise me you won’t go throwing yourself off of the towers if the answer isn’t what you want it to be.”

“James–”

He pressed a finger to her lips, removing it once he felt like she was going to remain silent. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, eyes closing.

“Be patient for once? For me?”

“I will try,” she replied defeatedly. She moved to rest her head against his chest, breathing a heavy sigh. “You said everyone knows we disappear for hours on end to my spot, even though they don’t know of said spot. If Father knows this, then he shouldn’t take issue with us being together.”

“Maeve, my darling, it has only been three days. Your father will not ship you off to the next unmarried heir or king tomorrow. Just give me a few days.” He pressed another kiss to her head and patted her back. “Now, we should get back to the castle. I do not want you to catch a cold from being out here all night.”

Maeve nodded her agreement, but when she pulled back her face looked like she was unhappy at being told to wait.

“I don’t like waiting,” she muttered as she moved to remove his cloak from her. He reached for it before she could undo the pin, his deft fingers working swiftly to don it again, pinning it in place. He held a hand out to her, which she took with a gentle smile. They walked back to the edge of the woods, seeing Natasha and Steve next to the horses.

“Can we ride out to our spot tomorrow?” she asked hopefully, her hand squeezing his.

“I’m afraid not,” he replied, “if you want me to talk to my father, it might take all day.”

“All right,” she groused, dropping his hand when they got to the edge of the trees. Natasha was close to Steve, her hand on his forearm and a smile on her face. “Don’t you two look comfortable together.”

James chuckled as he watched his cousin jump away from his friend like he was on fire, putting distance between the two.

“Could say the same for you two,” Steve mused, nodding towards them. Even though they weren’t holding hands anymore, they were still closer together than they should be.

James glared at his friend but didn’t step away; he could sense Maeve blushing.

“Shut it, Steve,” he glowered, “and you will keep this quiet or I will take you hunting and you won’t return.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head. “Natasha already has threatened me, and you know I will take this to my grave.” He nodded to Maeve and smiled. “I promise.”

James turned towards Maeve and gave her a nod as well. “I will let Natasha know your answer hopefully by tomorrow evening.” He turned towards his cousin and thanked her for accompanying Maeve out to the forest. “Steve and I will follow close behind but when we reach the road, we’ll let you go ahead of us.”

Maeve and Natasha nodded their goodbyes and mounted their horses, Steve and James following suit. They remained quiet until the road, the men stopping to let the ladies ahead.

Once they were out of earshot, Steve turned towards his friend. “Do you know what you are doing?”

“No,” James replied simply, “but we’ll find out.”

#bbb2022 #buckybarnesbingo2022 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #knight!bucky #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x ofc! maeve parker #bucky barnes x maeve parker #bucky barnes fantasy #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic

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murc0ck · 1 year

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i know he's fictional but i would love nothing but to devour that man

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fandoms-writings · 1 year

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Pairing: Knight!Bucky x Queen!Reader

Summary: Sir James Barnes has served at your side for over five years. For five years, he’s silently adored you from behind his metal armor. But what would happen if he could no longer keep it a secret from you? Could you possibly harbor similar affections for him? Afterall, he’s just a knight - you’re the queen.

Warnings: smut 18+ ONLY (smut will be indicated with a ❂︎), angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, flirting. Secret relationship. Each installment will contain it’s own warnings.

Installments are organized in chronological order. If you have any suggestions, or questions about the pair, please send an ask! It may be turned into a chapter <3

Yes, Your Grace

Adoring Fool ❂︎

Masked Stranger

If Only for a Moment

Moodboards:

a little picnic

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avecra · 2 years

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A Change In Duty - Masterlist

series summary: Change has been no stranger to you your entire life. So, when the dear friend that you work for engages to a King and requests you to accompany her to her new home, you are beyond happy; a perfect way to start a new change in your life. In the Northern Lands is where you meet Natasha’s fiance, King Steven and right hand man Captain James Barnes, who takes an affinity to you quickly, though you are hesitant to trust him. As the months go by, you find yourself swiftly falling for the knight. But when a familiar darkness begins to loom over the kingdom, you won’t hesitate to uphold the duty to your royals to protect them. And Captain Barnes will do anything to ensure the safety of the Queen’s Lady.

pairing: knight!bucky x lady!reader (medieval au)

series warnings: canon level violence, romance, angst, period-typical misogyny, mentions/references to abuse, protective!bucky is backkkk, hurt/comfort, fluff, knight!bucky because hes a warning

* set in a separate time than this one shot. they have similarities, but have no correlation whatsoever.

a/n - my obsession with knight!bucky is unhealthy :'), i will be posting wednesdays every other week

CURRENTLY ON HIATUS

❧ One

❧ Two

❧ Three

❧ Four

❧ Five

❧ Six

❧ Seven

❧ Eight

❧ Nine

❧ Ten

❧ Eleven

❧ Epilogue

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes story #medieval au #knight!bucky

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hollybee8917 · 1 month

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In the Court of the Shield and Star

Prologue

Plot: King Steve Rogers meets Eliza Frye who is a total mystery to him. They start to fall in love, but things are never that simple.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Eliza Frye (OFC), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Peggy Carter, Bucky Barnes, Owen Tyre (OC), Sam Wilson, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Stephen Strange

Warnings in this chapter: None

The sun beat down on Eliza’s back as she pushed her horse faster over fen and field away from that dreaded place that had once been home. Her rations were nearly gone but still on she rode. She had to get away from him. Faster she rode wanting to put as much distance as she could behind her until Falxa was all but a memory.

In Falxa, the Banished king screamed at his men, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE’S GONE?! WHERE?! WHEN?!”

The captain of the guard rolled his shoulders back slightly, “We have reason to believe she fled in the night.”

King Owen threw his goblet against the wall, spilling the wine inside it and denting the goblet, “IN THE NIGHT? IN THE NIGHT?! HOW DID SHE ESCAPE IN THE NIGHT? THE PORTCULLIS WAS DOWN THIS MORNING UNTIL I TOLD THE GUARDS TO RAISE IT!”

His captain steeled himself, “We believe she was helped by two of the night watchmen. They opened the portcullis enough for her to get through with her horse. Then they let it down again. It only took five minutes and they were able to do it without raising alarm.”

The king stomped his foot, “BRING THEM TO ME!”

Two of the citadel guards entered with two men in chains behind them. Upon the sight of the men in chains, King Owen took out his sword and leveled it at them, “I HEREBY DECLARE THESE TRAITORS SHALL BE SENTENCED TO DEATH. THEY ARE TO BE HUNG, DRAWN AND QUARTERED TOMORROW AT DAWN! LET THEM BE AN EXAMPLE FOR ALL WHO DISOBEY! TAKE THEM AWAY!”

The two men were led away, pleading for their lives but their pleas fell on deaf ears. King Owen turned to his captain, “FIND HER! I WANT THAT GIRL BACK HERE! FIND HER!!”

#steve rogers #marvel mcu #bucky barnes #original character #original female character #tony stark #wanda maximoff #stephen strange #peggy carter #original male character #captain america #clint barton #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #pietro maximoff #king!Steve Rogers #King!Tony Stark #Knight!Bucky

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subwaysurf45 · 2 years

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The Time of the Prey (7)

Pairing: Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Words: 5k

Warnings: swearing, yelling, descriptions of injury, we’re getting the gang back together!!!

Series Masterlist II Series Playlist

It was night when your eyes opened, the forest was silent, part of you thought you had entered the afterlife but when you looked at your hands and saw the dirt and grime you knew you were still alive.

The stories of death were very personal to many different people, you remembered your father getting one final burst of energy before passing, telling people he was fine but they knew he wasn’t. Other people began to smell lemons even if there were none present, and some hallucinated someone in front of them. There were journals of people seeing a bright light before them, the voice of their higher power, or even the voice of their lover who had passed before them.

The burst was fading and your eyes were falling heavy again, the sounds of movement were either a fragment of your imagination or the animals who lived on the forest floor.

But before you closed your eyes you saw a light, a light in the distance. You began to prepare yourself, making sure you left peacefully and not with a fight. Your vision began to double and you saw two, nodding to yourself, trying to make your seating position more comfortable.

But then you saw a triple, then quadruple.

Those were not gateways into the heavens, those were lanterns. The lights rapidly multiplied and began to illuminate the soldiers and the horses, through the trees you saw an eagle on a flag.

“James,” you whispered to yourself, the eagle was Shieldshire’s crest. “Bucky,” your voice had left you, not a single ounce of power was left to muster up a call. “Bucky please,” you tried again but your voice gave out mid way through, instead of talking you’d just make another sound.

Your hand swished around the fallen leaves and sticks, a collective halt came from the men in the distance. You did it again and earned a few murmured questions, people wondering what that was.

You smacked the forest floor three times quickly, then three times slowly, then three times quickly again. A couple people picked up on it, the lights began to flicker with movement, they were moving closer.

“This could be a trap, men,” you heard a voice say, “knock your bows.”

“No,” you whispered, your lips incredibly dry. A hand rested on your stomach, though it hurt to breathe in you did so anyway. “Bucky,” you tried as hard as you could and only managed a sound a little higher than normal speaking, the men stopped again.

Except for one.

“Y/N?” the voice brought a tired smile to your lips, “where are you, say that again!” he was over to your left, you tried to speak again but didn’t know if it worked, “keep talking, Y/N, I’l find you, keep-”

Your head rolled to the side, he was frozen in his stance. The amount of blood oozing from you caused his jaw to hang loose and his eyes to scan your body. The colour from his face drained for only a second before he jumped into action, he kneeled by your side but his hands hovered over your body, not sure where to start and if he’ll make it worse.

“Men!” he screamed while staring at you, “bring the nurse,” his voice was shaky, his hand moved to your forehead to pet back your hair, “it’s going to be okay,” he whispered, “bring her now!” to make sure he wasn’t screaming in your face he finally looked over to the crowd of lanterns.

As your breath became more shallow his shaken hands moved faster, still not knowing what to do because of the amount of blood dripping from you.

“Mhm-” you tried to speak but a groan was all that left your lips.

“It’s okay,” Bucky cupped your cheek, “you’re okay, don’t talk, alright?”

“My back,” you whispered, slowly closing your eyes, exhausted from the amount of effort it took to speak.

The nurse finally ran up and dropped her very small box beside her, “it’s her back,” Bucky said quickly, placing his hand on your shoulder and making you lean forward, “Great Hells,” he whispered, “it’s okay, sweet, it’s okay,” it seemed he was telling himself the reassurance rather than you.

“These are extremely infected,” mainly pus oozed rather than blood, “she’s burning up, we need to get her back and we need to do it fast,” your vision was blurry but you knew she was looking at Bucky.

“Men!” he called, “this does not end the war,” he stood, “you all must go and I must bring Princess Y/N back to our kingdom for medical attention.” The Knights began to argue, all of them wanted to go home, “I was charged by Lady Melina to bring her home and I’ll die before I let her stay here!” his voice shook as he screamed, not waiting another second he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, “I know…”

“Bucky…” you whispered, “just let me go…”

“No,” he grunted as he placed you on his horse, quickly getting on behind you and making you hold the reins, his large hands covering yours to keep them steady, “rest back on me, sweet, rest back on me there you go.”

“Bucky,” you whispered again but he was too busy giving orders, shouting at his men and then taking off. Your body shook as the horse sprinted down the trail, “I’m tired.”

“I know you are,” he spoke loudly over the sound of hooves hitting the ground, “but stay awake for me, alright?” his chin rested on your shoulder, “your family will kill me but I need you here for as long as I can, I missed you, I longed for you, I was about to slaughter every man in that kingdom for you, I-” he cut himself off and continued to ride, grunting as he tried to keep you upright.

“I’m going to sleep,” you muttered and let your eyes close.

********

When you woke up you were no longer on a horse or in the woods, your coreset was not on and you were shoeless. Under you was a comfy bed and not the back of a tree, your eyes took in the moment and found your room looking back at you.

“Was that a dream,” you muttered to yourself and tried to reach behind you to check the cuts, being greeted with terrible stinging, “it was real,” you groaned and laid back down. As you laid there by yourself you looked up to the ceiling, feeling your hands resting on your stomach, you could almost feel Bucky’s arms around you.

The door opened and your eyes flew to it, “sister!” Natasha ran up to you and hugged your head into her chest, “you’re alive!” she began sobbing, “I thought you had left us, thank the heavens, oh my…” she peppered kisses on your head, touching and feeling all around your face to reassure what she was seeing.

“How long was I asleep?” your speaking voice had been out of use, making it gravelly.

“Four days, sister, four terrible days,” she pulled you back in again, “you woke screaming the first night and we gave you tumble weed,” a hard medicine to kill pain but also knock you out so you wouldn’t have to feel anything anymore.

“Where’s Bucky?” you pushed her away, looking at her watery eyes.

“Who?”

“Ser James,” you balled up her dress, “I must see him now.”

“No,” she shook her head and stood up tall, “he was the one who caused you to be taken, he has been banished,” she squinted at your appalled expression, “you should be thanking me.”

“No,” you tried to stand but it was too painful, “get him back here now, I need him.” Natasha shook her head and began to walk away, “bring him back, he saved me from the woods, he cared about me so sweetly, he loves me-”

“I don’t care who he loves-”

“And I love him!” you screamed at sat up, immediately laying back down, “I love him and I have always loved him,” Natasha was disgusted, “you either banished neither or both, I will even marry that man to keep him here I do not care if I go back on years of my own ideals, I will be proper and a real princess just to keep him with me, get him back now!”

Natasha looked out of the doorway, “I… I hadn’t banished him yet…he’s-”

“Bring him to me,” you cut her off, “now!”

“Never,” she turned on her heel and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

With the strength you had gathered during your rest you stood and walked towards the door, using the door as balance. You had gotten good at sneaking around guards, taking the winding hallways to Bucky’s chambers. No one had been in the halls, most likely still fighting the war. When you reached his chmaber you could hear movement but you waited for voices, seeing if Natasha had beat you there.

You were greeted with two people talking, neither were Natasha.

“Listen to me,” it was Prince Steve, “I do not want you to leave but I also want to make my wife happy, you must understand me.”

“You know I am a good person, and that I would never let her die on my hands,” Bucky bit back, “you know me better than her and yet you are making her choose where I should go, does that make sense to you?” he yelled.

“Ser,” Steve spoke softly, “I am prepared to let Princess Y/N go with you,” you could hear a pause, “she wouldn’t be banished like you are but she’d be allowed to leave with you.”

“Don’t put that choice on her,” you could hear him pacing, “she has been political bait her entire life and now you want her to make a choice that will cause uproar no matter what she chooses, making the all the kingdoms talk about her, do you really think we should add that to all the things shes been through?”

Your ear pressed up against the wooden door, you wanted to open it so badly but you just couldn’t. It hurt to hold back but you knew you had to, for yours and his sake.

“James,” Steve said sadly, “this is all I can offer you, truly, all I can do.”

“Is she awake?” Bucky asked.

“As far as I know, no,” you could hear Prince Steve get closer to the door, you quickly ran and his around the corner you knew he wasn’t walking towards. After hearing their goodyes you heard the door open and then shut, a loud sigh coming from the Prince. His footsteps got quieter and quieter as he walked in the other direction.

Your back didn’t hurt to move, just when you touched it. You could feel the layers of padding and bandaged used to keep the cuts from seeing the light of day, infections were teh elading cause of death because they were so unknown. You had read books about the history of medicine, something to do while Natasha learned how to sew, and there were things that seemed basic but were yet to be understood.

Slowly, you placed one foot in front of the other, seeing the wood on the door move closer. How would you greet him, knocking or walking right in, would you say anything? It would be hard to just spring this on him, probably cause him a heart attack. Once you reached the door you stood there, still as can be. If he heard your hearing he didn’t respond to you, then again, you were holding your breath.

All of the confidence you had left got you to a fist right in front of the door, not knocking or moving. You held still, thinking of the many out comes, maybe it was just easier to go back to bad and have him come to you. But when were you the hopeless princess who waited for her Knight in shining armor.

you had been chained and whipped; how was this harder?

When you heard a stop in his moment you knocked on the door, “no thank you,” was all he said. You laughed to yourself and slowly opened the door, “I said-” he froze in the middle of his room, only in his black trousers and nothing else, you weren’t expecting him to be without a tunic.

Shamelessly, your eyes raked his body as you both stood frozen for two different reasons, the box he was holding had slipped from his hands but neither of you broke the eye contact once you looked back up at him.

“Hello,” you whispered, staying in the hallway.

“Are you real?” he stepped forward and gently reaching his hand out, you let him cup your cheeks when he was close enough.

Tears gathered in your eyes as you felt his warmth, you leaned into his touch and brought your hand up as well to fully feel him. His skin was soft yet callused with battle, your eyes were closed as you felt him, his aurora, around you. His other hand slipped on your waist, pulling you closer and staying on your hip.

“You’re alive,” he had leaned down and wrapped both arms around you, “I can’t believe my eyes,” your tears had already started falling, his were beginning.

Both of you shook as you cried on one another, he stepped back and shut his door. Your hands stayed wrapped your his neck while his moved around, feeling you to make sure you were real. They were restless, his head was still like yours, pushed deep into your neck.

“I thought I lost you-u,” he sobbed, “I was so lost, I can n-not describe it,” his frantic hands stopped and he fully wrapped around you, holding you so tightly it was starting to hurt your scars, but you didn’t say a word.

“If you leave, I will follow,” you whispered and slowly pulled away, letting your forehead rest again his but your arms stayed looped around him.

“I can not ask that of you,” his head shook.

“You are not asking,” your fingers played with the hair on his neck, scratching his scalp, “I am telling you, I do not want to live a miserable life, I want you.”

“I want you too,” his hands squeezed your hips, “I want you so badly.”

You pulled away and looked deeply in his eyes, “then have me.”

It was an open invitation, he took it quiklcy. His lips caught yours before you could say something else, moving quickly with a purpose. You tried to catch up but he seemed to be one step ahead of you, kissing you hard enough your teeth were starting the clack against one another.

Hands felt up and down your back, causing a little irritation to your scars but you kept your mouth shut again. Bucky’s teeth had sunken into your bottom lip countless times when he felt you want ot pull away, making sure he could have you for a long as possible.

“Bucky,” you groaned, “wait…” after a few seconds what you said registered with him and he pulled away, out of breath and panting as he stared at you. “Slow down,” you said with a smile, “I am not going anywhere.”

“I know,” he cupped your cheek and pressed his thumb to your lips, “but I’ve always wanted to do that, truly, I have always wanted to know what your lips felt like.” once he caught his breath he walked to you to the corner of his bed, “Y/N, I do not want you to leave your life for me,” he started but waited for a moment, “but I also want you to know that I am deeply in love with you.”

“Bucky,” you whispered and took his hand, “I am fully captivated by you.”

“I know you are not interested in marrying, but if you’ll have me…” he took a deep breath, “I could make you so happy, putting up my helmet would grant me a lot of money, money that would keep up happy for the rest of our lives together.”

“I want to be with you,” you admitted, “but I do not see myself as a bride, it’s very confusing and I don’t understand it sometimes but-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” he shook his head quickly, “but I could retire now, especially after this war.”

“What happened?”

Bucky explained how when the men had shown up a revolution had already begun against the government, people were fighting the guards and losing because the Knights had much more combat experience. When Southlands’ army showed up most of the retreated back to thier homes and watched the real army battle it out, but some of them stayed to fight the fight. Eventually the royals surrenered and gave up their crown, no one took it. There were a few Knights who thought they were worthy but the people of Hydra’s Hill took the power for themselves, claiming the revolutionaries had a new idea about government.

“Voting,” Bucky said, “they want to have a democracy.”

You couldn’t help but smile, that old lady was right, she may have gone down with her ship but at least the people got what they deserved. No one had been elected yet, there were still people who didn’t like the idea or people coming up with campaigns about rebuilding the city the had been slightly broken from the attack.

The door swung open adn Natasha stood there with fire in her eyes, your mother stood behind her. “You must take me as a fool,” she walked forward, “my sister hasn’t been awake for an hour and you’re already having relations with her,” she gestured his lack of shirt, “you’re pig!”

“Natasha,” your mother said sternly, “this is what you wanted to show me, you took me out of a meeting for this?”

“But mother!” Natasha whined, “they should not be together, he let her get stolen, he should be stripped of all titles, he’s going to be kicked out of this castle!” her foot stoped to punctuate her sentence.

“You must take me as a fool, daughter,” your mother smacked Natasha’s arm, “I charged Ser James to retrieve my second born, and he did.” she looked at him, “put on a shirt, son.”

“Sorry,” he offered and stood.

“He should not be banished, it is not his fault there were spies, none of us knew!” her arms were thrown in the air, “I fully give my permission for the two of them to marry- if they choose to do so,” she quickly added and looked at you, taking a moment to register your puffy lips and slightly dilated pupils, her eyebrows raised and you looked away with a smile.

“This doesn’t make sense, I am the Princess and soon to be Queen, I should be making the decisions here,” Natasha threw her arms around.

“All I see right now is child throwing a tantrum,” you mother crossed her arms, “stop acting like one.” Natasha shut her mouth and cross her arms, “I say let them stay for the wedding, which is in a fortnight and then we can decide what to do, give people sometime to cool off a little before we make any banishing choice here, alright?”

Lady Meline and Natasha left soon after that, you stayed seated on the corner of his bed and watched as he slowly began unpacking things.

“You must be uncomfortable in that night gown,” he pointed out, it was tight and not lose like a dressing gown should be, “you must let your wounds breathe, my love,” he walked over to you and spun you around uniting the few staings on your back.

“Wait,” you quickly turned back towards him and took his hand, “I’ll be fine, I can get undressed on my own,” you thought of how ugly your scarring would be, “let me change on my own.”

“Let me undress you,” he whispered and held your gown, “I’ve been dreaming of this, let me underess you, take care of you for a while, huh?”

“We’ll have the rest of our lives to do so, Bucky,” you saw the way his eyes lit up when you said his name, “let me undress on my own, I don’t want you looking at my scars.”

He shook his head, “I’ll find you beautiful no matter what, I swear it.,” he spoke softly as you stood and found yourself tucked in a corner where he couldn’t see you.

“Thank you,” you said before you changed into a nightgown, he had called a handmaid to grab one for you.

Once you were finished you spent the rest the day in the gardens, painting by yourself. Though you were in front of that pond again it was not reflected on your canvas, it was too innocent now, you had other things on your mind. The face of the old women began to appear, strictly from memory you had gotten her nose and eyes right, small parts about her were added or taken away. Her warmth came through the painting even though she was cold to the touch when she took your hand, it was the inside coming out.

Without thinking you had given her a smile, the same one she offered when you tried to play off that you weren’t a Princess.

When the sun was beginning to fall you debated packing up your things for tomorrow but you just couldn’t stop, you had hit a good stride and didn’t wan too stop incase you lost it again. You didn’t hear him approach but you did feel the gentle brush of his fingers against your arm, causing you to turn around slowly; you knew Bucky’s touch.

“Are you coming inside soon?” he asked softly, looking at the painting, “who’s this?”

“The lady I met when I was escaping Hydra’s Hill,” the sound of the place caused Bucky to grow stiff, “she gave me some treatment on my back.” you looked down at his hands to see a light shall, making sur eyou weren’t getting too cold when the sun set.

“Come inside, love,” he got right up close to your ear, making you shiver, “see, you’re cold, let’s throw this on and head to my quarters, I got permission from your mother so I could watch over you.”

“You just can’t get away from me now can you?” you laughed as he covered his face, throwing the shall on and taking your arm in his, walking you to the doors and to his room.

“Now that I have you, I never want to let you go,” he admitted once he was in the comfort of his own room, “I can’t bare to think of you chained up, getting whipped, even seeking medical attention from a old lady in Flea Bottom, I just can't,” he stressed and took your hands into his own, bring them to his lips and placing gentle kisses on them.

“I’m here now,” you leaned forward, you could feel his lips brush against yours.

“Do you want to spend the night?” he asked, staying the same distance, tilting his head and asking the questions on your lips.

You didn’t respond verbally, your answer was given as you connected your lips and cupped his cheeks tightly. A groan came from James and he began walked forward which made you walk backwards, the backs of you legs hit the edge of the bed and you fell back, having him on top of you. A giggle left your lips as you pulled away for a second, feeling your noses still touching one another.

Bucky kissed the corner of you mouth and then your cheek, working his way to your jaw line and then your neck. The new feeling caused a pit to form in your stomach but you knew you weren’t nervous, desire was building.

Sex was never taught to you, the feelings of lust and desire were always frown upon in any royal family. You weren’t supposed to think about bedding someone until you were married, there was no way you could do it now; not with the sound of your father’s voice in the back of your head.

Shame began to build as Bucky felt around your body, moments from the dungeon also appeared in the forefront of your mind. His hands were starting to touch and feel as well, it didn’t make sense why all these emotions and memories were now starting to arise.

“Do you want me to stop?” Bucky looked up at you, “you’re frozen…” you didn’t respond, simply looking at the ceiling with wide eyes, “Y/N,” he scrambled off of you, “hey, come back to me, it’s Bucky, just me, love,” he took your hand, shaking it slightly.

“S-sorry,” you spat out, sitting up straight as you fixed your dress. Smile and nod, the sound of your father’s voice rung in your head. You looked at Bucky and smiled, the fake smile you did when you first arrived.

“What are you doing?” he asked, kneeling beside the bed.

Your mind raced for an answer, one you had given before, “I love the stained glass windows,” you smiled again, lacing your hands together.

Bucky’s eyebrows pulled together tightly, “Y/N,” he said and slowly placed his hand on your shoulder, “you are in my room, I’m the only one here, you may speak freely like you have been before - I am not mad you wish to stop, in all honestly, I should have-”

“Don’t be cross,” you giggled and stood up, “this is your space and your area, I over stepped and came in, I should take my leave back to my chambers,” your back was stiff and your chin was high, still smiling as if strings were pulling your lips back.

“Y/N,” Bucky didn’t know what else to say, “I-...” he walked to the door and blocked it, “you’re going back to some reserve, stop that and be here with me, we will fall asleep and nothing more…but you have to get out of this…trance.”

Flashes came before you, in the dungeon, your old castle, your father, the man who whipped you, the man who torued you, the old lady, the forest, the way Bucky looked at you as you were dying, the nurse who ran up with him, the black dog.

The world began to blurr, your hearing and vision became distorted, “let me grab a nurse,” he said before turning to the door.

“That will not be nessicary,” you shook your head.

“No,” he was stern, “I’m getting a nurse.”

“I said no,” you reached out the grab his arm but quickly braced for a slap, when nothing happened you looked up again to see the man just staring at you, an appalled look on his face, “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“I’ll grab your mother,” he whispered and quickly ran out of the room.

“No,” your eyes welled with tears, “not my father,” you couldn’t chase after the man who was in the room with you, so you sat on the side of the bed and rubbed your arms, a sudden chill washing over you. You began to prepare what you were going to say to your father, how you would explain the situation you were in.

All of a sudden the door bursted open, Lady Melina walked in, she kneeled in front of you and took your hands in hers, “I do not need to know why you are in this room- nor do I care,” she started, “but I need to know what is going on.”

“Please don’t tell father,” you cried, hanging your head but keeping your posture perfect for your mother.

All you heard was a sigh, “you’re tired, you’re hallucinating, and you’re here right now - your father passed years ago, my sweet.” You slowly looked up to meet your mother’s gaze, “behind me is the man you are courting, Ser James Barnes, you call him Bucky, do you know that man?” all you could do was nod, “you just came back from Hydra’s Hill, you were taken, do you remember that?” more tears began to fill your eyes, “alright,” she quickly hushed, “you do, and do you remember who saved you and brought you home?”

“Him,” you pointed to the worried man standing behind your mother, “Ser James.”

“What do you call him?” she waved him over and he also kneeled.

“I call him Bucky,” when your eyes met him the facade began to crack, “he calls me love, he likes my paintings,” you reached out and grabbed his hand, “I-I am starting to remember…I think.”

“This happens to a lot of people,” your mother hushed, “I had it growing up all the time where I slipped into my royal persona when I couldn’t understand what was happening to me, people call it the ‘Princess Slip’, most women get it,” your mother cupped your cheek, “I’m surprised you’ve gone this long without it happening to you if I’m blunt.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered and look at Bucky.

“It’s alright, love,” he moved closer and sat beside you on the bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “you’re freezing,” he muttered and grabbed and blanket that at on his bed, wrapping it around you and then getting back to hugging your side.

“You will stay here with Bucky for one night,” she looked between the both of you, “but after that this will not continue, am I understood?”

“Of course,” Bucky nodded, watching Lady Melina leave.

Bucky gently moved you under his covers and got changed himself, joining you quickly. He laid on his back and watched as you curled away from him, hugging yourself under the sheets. His hand reached out and touched your shoulder, gently moving his thumb, then his hand moved and started to rub your back slowly. You knew he could feel the raised scars but he said nothing, just soothingly rubbing your back to try and lul you to sleep.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, rolling over and looking up at Bucky, “I don’t know what happened to me there, everything was a blur,” you placed your head on his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso, “that’s never happened to me before, I-”

“Just close your eyes,” Bucky whispered and placed a hand on your back again, “I want you to sleep right now, ou need your rest and all is forgiven, love,” he looked down at you with a sad smile, “just close your eyes.”

You did just that, lying still with your eyes closed. Having Bucky hold you made you feel so secure and safe, the tingles and warmth seeped through your entire body and soon enough you were on the verge of sleep. Right before you entered your dream you felt the man hold you tense, then slowly, you could hear sniffles coming from above you.

“I should be the sorry one,” he whispered to your sleeping body, “I should be the one paying for this.”

NEXT EPISODE

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- Rambo <3

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