#fantasy marvel au

[mariliazo]

The Alchemist and the Knight

A Fantasy story 🤣

#i'm delirious #I should draw the other #How do you think they should be? #illustration #the avengers #Marvel au #Fantasy AU #Marvel fanart #Avengers fan art #Digital watercolor #Iron man #Tony Stark #Capitan America #Steve Rogers

[leehanji]

Illustrations from my Stucky fic The Limits of Duty

Read it here on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48358507/chapters/121967410

#stucky #steve x bucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #mcu #Marvel #captain america #winter soldier #fic #my fics #leehanji #medieval au #fantasy au

[phoenixcatch7]

In love with the idea of captain marvel being Billy's imaginary friend. Like, it'd be so easy. Early depictions had them as almost fully separate people sometimes, like one soul with two minds, rather than just two filters like we mostly see now.

But imagine a Billy down on his luck, hurt and hiding from police and criminals alike, daydreaming the hours away as children do, taking inspiration from all the superheroes rising to fame, making little stories to play out his dreams of saving the world with a generic action doll he found while dumpster diving once. Most of the paint's rubbed off.

Red's his favourite colour, his comfiest jumper is a bright ruby even after all the grime and washes. Gold, too, it's shiny and warmer than silver! A hero cape is a must, big and eye catching! And he can fly, of course, like superman, and in his daydreams, when he's sore and frustrated after a long day's grind, his superhero is smart enough and knows all the right words to get the bullies to stop without resorting to fighting.

His superhero fantasy is one he spends a lot of time on, the first one he goes for when struggling to sleep at night, and he can picture it so clearly. Captain marvel is big and bright and kind, strong enough to lift the boxes for the old lady up the road who's moving all by himself, fast enough to catch Jamie who fell out of the tree on Saturday and broke his leg and couldn't come to class for weeks. He appears at the entrance to alleys when Billy is cornered, he steps up behind to cover for him when he gets caught shoplifting, he sits at the bus stop with him when it's pouring rain and the right bus doesn't seem to be coming.

And then the wizard comes, or rather whisks him away, and like a magician from a fairytale breathes life into his imaginary friend until Billy feels thrice his size and a million times more invincible.

From then on, captain marvel is a real hero, just like Billy is a real boy, and as one they save the whole city, and then the whole world, and get cats down from trees and help Mrs Victoria move the last of her boxes and she gives them a pinch in the cheek and cookies for the road and sometimes it hurts but it's so much better than he imagined.

#dc comics #captain marvel #dc captain marvel #shazam #billy batson #imaginary friend #imaginary friend au #Billy's great because you can give him the most buck wild adventures with the most self indulgent plots and it makes perfect sense #Batman and superman are out here having mental health crisis no.528 and marvels away having dance offs with gnomes #Billy would fit perfectly into gravity falls he really would #Anyway imaginary friend au is near and dear because it encapsulates that sort of safe fantasy for change and companion ship #And a protective imaginary friend brought to life is going to be just a fascinating character no matter what #And it's the perfect cover for non imaginary cap anyway. Why does he prioritise this kid over everything despite having never mentioned him #Imaginary friends always have to care for their creator! But you can't expect an imaginary friend to do your taxes! #Why is cap so eternally kind and bubbly and a bit childish? That's because his creator is a kid! Duh! #This particular imaginary friend just so happens to have encountered magic and is now real enough to play basketball with asteroids. #He's strong enough to match superman but it's fine he's got a child's heart and an unending protectiveness for humanity. #Just don't try anything with the kid or you're toast. #I love the jl needing to save/help Billy in some way and cap; who's practically the jls puppy mascot at this point #Is just shamelessly and unrepentantly possessive of Billy while being openly wrapped around his finger. Number one fan #Like 'he's the specialist boy and if you don't clap for him I'm going to blow this whole building up' type #Have you read Split on ao3 it's like that. Cap is the most unaffiliated person on the team and then bam Billy is number 1 priority 100% #Go read split if you haven't 10/10 #Like it never crosses caps mind to hinder or harm Billy he is Devoted. Platonic God/worshipper except the deity in question is an 11yo #And the worshipper is the closest thing to a deity without being one you can get in dc. #But like a healthy relationship lmao. #It's a soul deep claim with total freedom on both sides and they teach each other love and they're the same person #AUGH

[mysteriesmuse]

~~Delightfully inspired by being at home~~

Bakugou Katsuki is an only child. No siblings - because one gremlin spawn is enough to take care of. All of Katsuki’s cousins are older than him. Katsuki IS the baby of the family. . . Which is why when he meet you, and then proceeded to meet your family, he was in a total culture shock. You’re one of the oldest kids in your family. When the two of you arrived to your families summertime reunion he was absolutely flabbergasted. Once you stepped into the house you were gone in a flash!

I mean he expected as much since you lived so far away now and had such a good working relationship with your family. But he didn’t expect for you to DISAPPEAR ON HIM.

To be swallowed by a hoarde of similiar-faced relatives all shouting about how you’ve been!! the L/N genes were strong apparently . . . you really all do look alike, huh.

Bakugou had barely stepped into the house, your luggage’s still in hand, before becoming an obstacle for children. One of your little cousins actually barrelling into his muscular thigh with a little “oof” and “sorry mister! hey! wait for me!”

Before bounding out the wide open front door to chase their playmates back around to the backyard, and then through the entire house again . . . as children are often prone to do. Now, Bakugou tried to find you amoungst the little gaggle of children and sometimes teenagers that blew around his ankles, as they giggled and shouted and whooped as they weaved their way around him. at least let him find you, or one of your parents or siblings, so they can tell him which room you’d be staying in. he’d meet them on several occasions before and secretly reveled in watching watching you and your siblings engage throughout the few visits and events he’s been invited on. All these other people and rambunctious kids he wasn’t all too sure about . . . ——————

now Y/N was having the time of her life relaxing and catching up with her family

Her boyfriend, Katsuki, was not finding this relaxing. Bakugou Katsuki felt totally out of his element: a fish out of water. Or rather, an explosive man in water. ———— his ruby eyes would snap open most mornings, at some inhumane hour from some early bird kids stomping around and giggling in hushed tones (not so hushed in his opinion) as they moved down the hallway and past your door. And Bakugou would squint his eyes into the blackness; the void. And stare at where the door was supposed to be until they passed and burrowed his face back against your perfectly sloped shoulder and slept until some kid was send by the older folks to slam open the door and wake you up. Bakugou absolutely couldn’t fathom this part of the routine. He absolutely hated it.

You however only ever seemed a touch miffled. And always informed the tiny correspondent with a playful pat on the head that you and him were now awake and would join the rest of them downstairs. . . . but eventually the little cousins would soon come running around the side of the bed to make sure he was awake too. . . and Bakugou couldn’t help but turn, pick the kid up, and playfully wrestle the flailing and giggling kid on the bed into submission, and they revealed the menu for breakfast. And they would giggle and dart out of the room so fast saying, “Y/N’s awake! And her boyfriends Bakugou’s awake! He wants extra eggs!” And it definitely wasn’t his idea of relaxing playing UNO with about 10 players every other evening. And constantly hearing you and the older kids and adults all explaining what color card the youngest one needs to put down. Or GO-FISH for that matter!

Since apparently that silly game of chance seems to be the only one every age group can play without explaining the rules. What’s the point of a game of guessing who’s got what card? Especially when he never even gets close to winning. (Yes, he was terrible at it.)

Your family even plays for second to last place, and lo and behold he’s somehow duking it out with a 9 yr old now. And Katsuki Bakugou definitely doesn’t enjoy participating in the family water balloon fights, or watching and dodging the stray streams from squirt guns fights as he stands at the grill with all the other men, or chasing down the muddy dog in the house, or the epic made-believe quests. And you definitely believe him when you pass him walking through the house on morning after finishing the dishes in company with a fairy princess, pirate, and a mermaid “but-she’s-got-legs-right-now-cause-she’s-on-land.” as he walks about wearing an eye-patch on his face and a tutu around his arm

And he’s no longer “not in his element” by the end of the trip when he takes his turn to make breakfast for the whole family. Going upstairs himself to wake up the little ones and the grumbling teens. Making sure to let you sleep in and it’s a pleasant surprise when you make your way downstairs a little later to see him manning the kitchen. everybody sat down or standing around as they chow down. And you get greeted with a swift kiss to your temple and grumbled “g’morning.” your mom chirping up, “Katsuki’s made your favorite sweetpea!” ——— And you’re pleasantly surprised once again as Bakugou joins you in on the last day of your visit. Finally stepping foot into the mattress/sleeping bag kingdom that’s set up in your house. He comes in to find you sitting at the front of the room waving your hands across the air as you engage in the last saga of this thrilling interactive bedtime story you’ve been narrating the whole trip. And Bakugou walks in and tosses all the fallen blankets back over peoples beds. Shuffling himself underneath a blanket he’s just rescued and making himself comfortable as he squeezes in next to the teens. And it’s at some part in your story that he furrows his brow and opens his mouth muttering something to the two adolescents squished beside him. His arms crossed across his chest as a dinosaur stuffed animal rests, precariously balanced, on his broad shoulders because, “you need a stuffie for Y/Ns storytime” and the three of them wave their hands and signal for you to pause and Bakugou grumbles out “- hold on babe, who is this dragon prince character anyway?” And all the kids erupt in laughter shouting, “YOU, YOU SILLY BOYFRIEND.” and his mouth is agape. And you simply shrug, “well duh ‘tsuki. who else? Now where we’re we? Right so then the Dragon Prince, the Swordsman, and the Dashing Runaway Prince of the Kingdom decided that they . . .”

#bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #katsuki bakugo imagine #this actually turned out way better than I thought #I’m shocked lol like it just fits him so well #anyone else relate? #He’s definitely won the approval of everyone I’d say 😂 #The Fantasy AU is actually just Y/Ns marvelous make-believe stories in my head!! #Oh! PS - yes the tutu is stuck around his forearm bc his bicep is too beefy!

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Brave [7 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: The pack regroups after the deadly assault in the pass.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse, Fighting, Monsters, Animal Death, Violence, Mildly described gore

A/N: thank you all forever and ever for bearing with me as i struggle through writer’s block! i’m afraid you all won’t be happy with the results of this chapter, but i hope you have enough faith in me to stick it out and see what happens. as always, reblogs and feedback of all kinds are appreciated and always welcome!

When Steve attempts to pull the reins from your trembling hands you hold on tightly, fighting him. 

“Easy, Sweetmeat. Easy.”

The torchlight is warm and welcome in the gray mist, and by its light you can see the extent of the damage. Your hands are caked with blood and dirt, your nails raw and split. You raise a trembling hand to your chest and wince. There are wounds here too, matching claw marks like the ones you know now mark the space between your shoulder blades. 

They stretch from the base of your throat down between your breasts, cut cleanly through the ragged fabric of your dress. softness. Steve repeats it as he looses them from your grip, peeling each of your fingers back gently, until you are forced to release the bloody leather from your trembling hands. The pass is far behind, now, lost somewhere in the mist, but you fear it still, your wide, terrified eyes searching the gloom. For the sun, for more nameless horrors—

In the dark angry sky, you find neither. 

Perhaps it is morning, perhaps not—there is no sun by which to tell, no light peeking from behind the furious, roiling clouds.

Steve dismounts, landing beside the horse with a wet thud. You join him and grimace as you sink into the muck up to your calves. The ground is slick, thick with mud that sucks at your boots. The grass sea is pock marked with patches of lightning-scorched earth, patterning what little you can see in the gloomy twilight—some are bigger around than your father’s house. Above, thunder rumbles, and you watch massive bolts of lightning twist across the sky in a burning arc, lighting ablaze the distant hills where it strikes. 

Would this path have been any better? You eye the storm’s path of destruction across the sea. No, you decide, watching again as lightning cuts through the dark sky. Where there is death, there will always be death.

Steve produces a torch from his gore-stained saddlebags. He lights it, holding it aloft. The firelight is warm and welcome in the gray mist, and by its light you can see the extent of the damage. Your hands are caked with blood and dirt, your nails raw and split. You raise a trembling hand to your chest and wince. There are wounds here too, matching claw marks like the ones you know now mark the space between your shoulder blades. They stretch from the base of your throat down between your breasts, cut cleanly through the ragged fabric of your dress. 

“To me!” Steve bellows, the depth of his voice trembling in your chest. “To me!” Slowly, the pack begins to reform. Out of the darkness they come, circling the flame like lost moths. You are overcome with relief to see Carol among them. Beneath her, her steed trembles, the gash along its flank bleeding sluggishly.

So few. You cannot help but take stock of those who gather, dismounting their horses to stand before Steve. So few. The pack had been intimidatingly large before. Perhaps fifty, sixty riders strong—the ones who remain number less than forty. Steve knows it too, you can see it in the grim set of his jaw.

“Where is Bucky?” A murmur passes through the pack, but no one answers. For the first time, in Steve’s bright blue eyes, you see fear. You search for Bucky’s face amongst the survivors, your chest tightening as the realization dawns cold and clear—

You do not see him. After a long while, someone finally speaks. 

“He fell.” Carol steps forward, her head low. You watch Steve’s entire body go taut. He shakes his head, his brows knitting together in angry disbelief. 

“No.” 

 “I saw him.” She looks up, and her eyes are bright and wet. “He fell.” The wind whistles through the grass in the silence. “He fell.”

For a moment, Steve’s free hand rests upon the hilt of his sword, squeezing the pommel as if beset by foes a second time, but he releases it, clenching his fist. When he does speak, his voice is cold, devoid of anything but authority. 

“Then we will light his way to our ancestors.” The light of the torch does not seem to reach his eyes, which are shrouded, and dark. “We will light the way for all of them.” 

The fire is weak, at first, sputtering dangerously as you all feed it bundles of wet kindling. It catches, eventually, the light rain fizzling out as it meets the flames. Steve’s face is stone, dark and unchanging as he watches the flames grow tall. 

You are no stranger to mourning, to grief. Those who remain surround the fire, and their sorrow is yours too. The pass had claimed many who were kind to you, who had accepted you—

Gone. 

A young female Orc approaches the fire. Her face is bandaged roughly, and the edges of the long wound peek out on either side of the dressing. In one hand she holds a shield. Her hands are steady, but her voice trembles as she speaks. 

“Arun.” She tosses the shield into the fire. “May—” Tears choke her for a moment, and she swallows roughly. “May you find your way.” Others approach the flames, some weeping, others stoic and distant, speaking the names of those they have lost into the fire. 

“Jonai.”

“Huth.” 

“Karali.”

So many, many names. 

“May you find your way.” 

You do not know the Orc traditions for mourning, but you know your own. You have lifted your voice in song for your mother’s memory more times than you can count, praying that the crows will carry the notes high into the heavens, to her ear so that she might know that you have not forgotten her. You have no name to add to the fire, but this—this you can do. So too will you mourn for the pack, for the ones who have fallen. 

The words are slow to come at first, reluctant to leave your lips. It is not long, however, before they remember the familiar shape of these melodies; before they remember how to name your grief. So you do—you name it there, before the fire. You feed it your grief, like—and unlike—the rest of the pack. They gather behind you as you sing, bowing their heads. The song catches in your throat, the words faltering on your tongue at the sight of them.

“Finish it.” You turn back, and there is Steve, stood before the fire. He is close enough to touch it, a torn quiver held tightly in one hand. “Finish it and guide them home.” He tosses in the scrap of leather as you finish, his voice consumed almost entirely by the sound of crackling flames, and the last echoing notes of your own parting gift—

“Bucky.”

to be continued…

next

#cevans #cevans fandom #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers au #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers smut #mcu fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #marvel fic #fantasy au #dark fantasy #boxofbonesfic #brave fic

[kenandeliza]

A Marvel Family Fantasy AU

A few days ago, I randomly dreamt of Drawing Billy and Tawny in a fantasy setting.

Billy was this kid wizard and Tawny was his companion (or an animal to ride on like a horse)

Then it got me thinking, maybe in this setting, Mary could be someone of high status in this fantasy setting (since she's in a rich family in the golden age comics)

I'm inclined to think Freddy would be a captain of a ship for irony-sake but I have a feeling pirates and fantasy settings don't match well?

It's just funny for me to think of him with a peg leg xD

After further discussion with @the-brash-spud :

Warning: Too many text :>

These are the ideas we have so far (if there are quotation marks, those ideas belonged to @the-brash-spud ):

—

Maybe Billy and Mary were prince and princess separated by birth, (i'm not sure if its a kidnapping or the baby got lost on his own) but the wizard founded billy and trained him.

At the ripe age of (insert young age below a teenager's), The wizard decided to grant him the power of shazam to turn him into the world's mightiest Wizard!

Captain Marvel!

Wizard dies and then Billy and Tawny have adventures together, maybe helping people along the way (maybe somehow found out that Mary is his sister :p idk)

“ I think you could go angst if you made the wizard get brutally hurt in a battle to protect Billy and the rock of eternity so in a last ditch effort he transports the rock to its own pocket of existence and then giving Billy powers of shazam because its as ready as he'll be able to make the kid :) and it's his last effort for Billy to be protected even if he has to do so himself because he has failed :)) made Billy cry as Wizard turns into dust in Billy’s hands :)))”

—

Uncle marvel can be a con-man/thief who took pity on Billy or realiz, teaching Billy that the world isn't always honest and he's like, "Billy, don't always give money to the poor on the streets, sometimes they faked their illness to be lazy”

" Billy: "The man in the shadowy corner needs my help."

Uncle: "No, the hell he doesn't!”"

—-

How Billy Met Freddy

Billy probably met Freddy in a bar fight. How did the kid get into a bar?

Billy looked at the man exiting the pub with a bottle.

Billy: Ohh! So this is where you get refreshments here! I wonder If they have enough Milk for Tawny..

Pub sign written NO KIDS ALLOWED!"

*Billy can only read magic scrolls and not regular alphabet*

Cue him meeting Freddy (who's armwrestling with one of the people there)

(Insert Bar fight for some reason because The child decided to drink a white cocktail thinking it was milk and the fact that Billy is a Kid)

“Freddie is definitely that kid having his ass thrown out of the bar/pub/inn”

I'd like to think he and his brother are a team, prolly sailed a ship together.

“Yes, they target slave ships. Unless you wanna go different routes. Then, he is focused on certain nations' flags that have a whole lot of red in them

Also, he goes to the bars just to start bar fights over drunks being mean/nasty to the landlady. The landlady doesn't appreciate it bc now she has a broken table and four broken chairs”

Freddy faces the Captain Nazi equivalent of a pirate [Captain Arian? Like Aryan?] XD, Freddy lost his leg the same way, from his encounter with Captain Arian.

Kit (probably a necromancer or a ghost who's cursed to be bound in the ship Freddy's in, making Freddy more attached to the ship) can still summon crewmembers.

Maybe they both meet mary during the birthday ceremony parade

Maybe Mary snuck off from her family (disguise herself as a regular girl, i know, generic plot) and then meet Billy accidentally

Billy: It's my birthday today!

Mary: What a coincidence! It's mine too!

The-brash-spud: “Billy, in his innocence, thinks ,"There must be something to us sharing birthdays!" While Freddy calls him stupid, Billy tries to get a look at the princes and then cue the lung-fu panda rocket incident, but maybe something else more fitting with Freddy being pulled along”

On an unrelated note, i think Billy knew about Freddy's peg legafter either a pirate slashed it clean and Freddy just used it to bonk his head.

Billy is still screaming from the shock and immediately casted healing spells (i'd like to think everything about billy is lightning based- so yes getting struck by lightning is a healing spell for him :D) Freddy got shocked lmao

And what about boarding Tawny on the ship?

Billy:"Please???"

Freddy: "I'm not letting a tiger into my ship."

Kit who absolutely adores animals: "YES"

Freddy:"NO!”

Kit:" Does he love belly rubs??"

Billy:" yes but you have to ask him politely for his permission-”

Freddy rolled his eyes, realizing he has to clean cat fur everyday off from the furnitures.

___

How did Mary, a royalty tag along with a kid wizard and a pirate?

“Yeah, I guess forced separation would work better. Hell, go with a scenario that will allow them to have Mary with the parents' blessings as long as she's kept safe (she isn't, but that's because she is the danger herself)”

Mary and Billy: "Yay adventure"

Freddy: "Oh great, now I have to take care of two kids and a tiger in my ship!?"

*Freddy looking at Kit and the kids + a tiger playing together, kit seems happy*

Freddy: "...i guess it's alright..”

___

How Freddy and Mary found out about the wizard?

“Hmmmm, maybe Billy takes them to the rock because they were in a pickle, and unforeseen effects happen?

They got surrounded maybe?

Also I can see the aftermath

"You were raised by THE Wizard!? THE Wizard?! A Wizard of legends so often told he is recognisable even if his name was lost?!"

"Oh, his name is Shazam-" *BANG*”

____

Hopefully i could draw these AU ideas, I don't plan on making this into a story, i just like the concept that my dream gave my a few days ago and I’m just expanding it. Sorry for too many text xD

I don't mind if you want to add something to this silly lil AU, It's just a fun thing for me to do :p

#dc comics #captain marvel #scenario #scenarios #billy batson #freddy freeman #mary batson #shazam #fantasy au #fantasy #pirate au #kd rambles #kenandeliza's art #shazam au #shazam fantasy au #captain marvel fantasy au

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

big compilation some of doc ock x rosie fantasy au art bc this story is dear to me

#yeah its that type of absurd au i was talking abt #gotham fandom beware #and barev dzes sp fandom #marvel fantasy au #marvel #spiderman raimi #spiderman 2004 #otto x rosie #curt connors #rosie octavius #otto octavius #dr octopus #doc ock #dr otto octavius #spiderman 2 #mcu #spiderman #fluff gentle stories my beloved #but i won't even try to explain this one #Avart

[under-loch-n-key]

I saw a really cute drawing on Pinterest of a family base and I immediately got inspiration to draw it for my Ironstrange Fanfic on A03, one of which I still need to complete. The picture is a work in-progress but I think it's cute so far. I'm just posting a bunch of work on here to get my stuff out there. So, don't mind me. Lol.

#ironstrange #tony stark #stephen strange #peter parker #doctor dad #iron dad #iron man #dr strange #fantasy au #fanart #my fic #ao3 fanfic #marvel #spider man #spider son #blacksmith #blacksmith tony stark #wizard

[lazymonth]

TSSM Fantasy AU ✧

( I used Peter, Beck, Cham and Tink as a example because I love them )

This AU have references concept from movie Onward about fantasy creatures living they live like a modern now day but in this AU also have magic in they blood and using it in normal life

And other then fantasy creatures this AU also have a cryptid, ghost and some classic monsters

Little info about them :

Peter Park || Spider-man : Bug monster is a specie I made up for him. He have a humanoid look with some parts of his body covered by insect exoskeleton, he’s also have extra eyes but when being spider-man he can grow six arms and a mandibles for represent being spider.. sound like man spider actually 🤔

Quentin Beck || Mysterio : Beck being magicless is a very special case in this world. Magic it’s just like swimming, everyone can do it even if you good or bad at it you can training to make it stronger but Quentin, he’s borne with completely magicless how hard he try but still hopeless,, Beck got a very low respect from other people and even more in elf community because elf is one of the powerful specie with magic, so he became Mysterio a very strong sorcerer to get a respect he deserves

Dmitri Smerdyakov || Chameleon : We are gonna ignore the fact that Noppera-Bō is actually Japan's yōkai some of the iconic species in one country can be found on other country too in this world. Anyway back to Chameleon, he's actually faceless just like other Noppera-Bō but for hiding his identity even his true specie so Dmitri using his shape shifting power to create his own face to look like other monsters

Phineas Mason || Tinkerer : doesn't have my thing for Tink but I play a little about his have similar name to Tinker bell, LOL. Tink is very small around 14 cm. like other fairy but because he's small that make him really fast too, hard to catch and work fast even need to build a big stuff, but because he's old now and flying around take a lot of energy so he usually just sit on someone shoulder

#marvel #tssm #the spectacular spiderman #spider man #tssm peter parker #tssm quentin beck #tssm mysterio #tssm chameleon #tssm dmitri smerdyakov #tssm phineas mason #tssm tinkerer #au #fantasy au #monster #procreate #procreateart #procreatedrawing #drawing

[thesugarclubs-blog]

What a Feeling - AU Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: fantasy au, knight bucky barnes, princess oc, one-bed, grumpy/sunshine, smut, 18+

word count: 12.2k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1327974550-what-a-feeling-merari

Masterlist

“I would rather chew off my own fingernails than go back to that place,” Merari flicked her hair over her back, the gold bangles around her tiny wrist banging together in the hot summer air as Bucky moved around her giant white horse. 

He tugged roughly on the saddle buckles, making sure the leather straps weren’t going anywhere as he listened to her complaints with a disapproving expression on his cranky face. His large scarred hand ran down over the mare's neck, giving the Princess’ horse a few extra scratches behind the ears.

 “Your father only wants-” he started. 

“My father would sooner have me hog-tied and sold to the highest bidder than deal with me in the palace for a single summer.” She poked her head around the mare, her long red hair cascading down around her face. 

“The Convent is exactly where you should be,” Bucky grumbled. 

The heat was causing the dark green dress she wore to stick to the base of her spine and sweat to drip between her breasts. She wiggled her shoulder blades in a meek attempt to loosen the itchy fabric from her skin but nothing worked. She watched his dark blue eyes, enjoying the way he watched her back. His dark hair was clean for once and pulled into a half knot at the back of his head, highlighting the sharp curves of his scruffy jaw. 

“Well then perhaps you should join the nuns this summer if you believe them so special.” She rolled her eyes at him and she could have sworn his lip turned upward but when she studied his face she found only his mean scowl staring back at her. “Maybe they can teach you how to smile.” She shrugged and lifted her skirts to hoist herself atop the mare. 

“I know how to smile, your highness.” 

Merari glanced down at him from her perch on the horse, eyes narrowed as she studied him. He was concentrating, tongue peeking between the straight line of his lips as he double checked everything, ensuring their supplies for the trip into the capital were secure. 

“I’d never believe it,” she sighs, “and how many times must I tell you to call me by my name?” 

“I’ve lost count, but I can assure you that if I had a penny for every time, I’d be sitting on your father’s throne and not carting you across the land… your highness.”

She narrowed her eyes down at him again, a light smile tugging at her lips.

“Huh, that’s a view of a kind.”

He only responded with a raised brow, but she swore she could see a glint of amusement flash across his face before he turned to his black stallion. He hoisted himself up gracefully, in some may always more than the last time, and nodded for her to join beside him.

Merari let her eyes wander down to look at his butt that was gently swaying along with the stallion's movement. Then she gave her mare a tender kick with her heels and let her walk next to his. 

Their knees were only inches apart as the two rode next to each other on the narrow cobblestone path. 

"So, Bucky..." she started after five minutes. Only hearing the sound of the horse's hooves on the stone path was driving her nuts.

He turned his head towards her and she could see two strands falling out of his half knot, framing his face beautifully. 

"Why are you always the one accompanying me? My father has dozens of men, but every time I end up with you."

She watched him attentively, her lips twitching upwards as his jaw ticked almost in slow motion. The glow of the unrelenting morning sun slipping through the trees around them highlighted his features perfectly. Bucky turned to face forward and shook his head. 

"Oh come on Sir Barnes, you always do this," he whipped his head back to her quickly and Merari raised a brow. "Act all tough, silent and broody. We can't possibly spend this whole godforsaken ride without speaking." 

"I'm here to do a job, my lady. To protect you. If you must know why I'm always the one assigned to you, you should ask the King. You may ask for a new guard if you are not pleased with me." he gruffed.

"No need to get your braies in a twist, Bucky." 

Merari tried to suppress a laugh as she saw the stoic man's expression twist and his lips pursed as he let out a frustrated huff. She would never get over the satisfaction she got out of riling him up. It was just too good. A little part of her wondered how long it would take to watch him break.

“Just keep your eye on the path, Princess. You know how easy it is to lose track before we get to the main road.” 

Merari rolled her eyes but straightened up on her horse. She loved leisurely rides around the castle grounds but the trek into the capital was always tiring and monotonous — just the clip-clop of their horse's hooves and her own voice as she tried to make conversation. 

“Fine,” she huffed, catching him spare her a glance, his eyebrow raised. “Or should I say ‘yes, sir’? Isn’t that how the likes of Rogers and Wilson address you?” 

“They are under my command, my lady. You, are not.”

“Much to your chagrin, I’m sure.”  Merari huffed, spurring her horse ahead by half a length, putting Sir Barnes and his deep frown out of view.

As much as he was a treat to look at in his leather armour, unmarked by her father’s crest and always a lot cleaner than the man himself, he was an insufferable grump who always spoiled her fun.  Always so stoic, so in control, Sir Barnes was a stalwart knight of the realm; what more fun could be had on this trip than to tease him?

The pleasant dappling of sunlight through the leaves in the wood had begun to falter.  Through gaps in the canopy, she could see clouds passing over the face of the sun, causing momentary waves of gloom.  A chill passed with shadows and, had she not been so engrossed in thinking about Sir Barnes, she may have noticed the way her mare knickered and shivered at the withers.

Merari glanced over her shoulder, taking in the path. The trees seemed to bow and sway in the wind, touching and tangling together to create a darkened dead end behind them. 

“My Lady?” His voice came through the sound of raindrops littering the leaves above them. 

Her heart pounded heavily in her chest as another shiver crept through her tense posture. 

“It’s just rain, calm yourself before you spook your horse.” His voice was stern and laced with growing frustration.

"I am calm," she snapped, her voice laced with worry as her view of him began to eclipse under the darkening sky. 

Her mare moved quickly to the side as the tree branches swayed into their path. Merari leaned down atop her and tried to soothe them both by digging her fingers into her mane and scratching lightly. 

"We're alright, Luar. It's an ok sweet girl," her voice was gentle as she tried not to let her fear show.

The rain poured heavily from the dark sky, drenching her gown in rainwater. But before she could worry about the state her garments would be in a thunderous rumble sounded through the air. Luar lifted her forelimbs, making Merari tumble off her saddle onto the now muddy ground. Somehow, Bucky got a hold of Luar's reigns before she could run off too far.

"Whoa, easy girl," the knight murmured softly, blue eyes flooded with concern as he looked at the Princess. "Are you alright?" 

Merari winced, sitting up as Luar whinnied above her, trotting impatiently in Bucky's well-trained grasp. The ground was soaked from the night before's rains and now mud and rainwater caked the skirt of her fine damask dress. 

A stinging sensation started in her hand and Merari spotted a small stream of crimson on her palm. There was the sensation of blood running down one of her knees as well, but she shook it off.

"Just a few stones embedded into my skin, no worries," Merari laughed shakily.

“We’ll find shelter in the first town, we can’t stop here. Not with this rain and Luar so distressed,” he stated — gruff and sure in his words as he held out a hand. 

“Bucky…” Merari spoke his name softly in protest, the way she had only ever done when the times didn’t call for formality. She’d be stronger about it if the gritty stones in her palm weren’t stinging something horrid. 

“Here, hop up. I’ll walk her the rest of the way.” 

He wouldn’t take no for an answer, stubborn as always, and he hauled her up onto his stallion. His warm hands steadied her as she settled in front of him, shifting until her back was pressed to his front.

“Comfortable?”

Merari’s hand was still throbbing but she nodded softly in response to give him the okay to keep going. Luar protested for a moment causing the horse they were on to stall but with a few coaxing words of praise Bucky got her moving. 

“You are good with her,” Merari groaned, flexing her fingers to distract how uncomfortable their current situation was. “She hates all the stable boys,” she laughed wearily. 

“She doesn’t know the stable boys. They rotate too often, she just needs a familiar face,” his voice low and calm against the side of her head, barely loud enough for her to hear him over the downpour. 

“Is that why my father sends you?” She dared to ask. “Strictly speaking of horses.” 

“Yes Merari,” he used her first name and sent shivers running over her skin. “That is why he sends me.”

The princess nodded silently, her cheeks warm despite the humid chill. 

“Strictly speaking of horses, that is,” Bucky repeated in what sounded like a pained whisper.

His calloused palms were still wrapped around the reins, yet she swore she could feel the warmth of his touch linger on her waist.

His touch was an unfamiliar thing, one that had the damp hair on the back of her neck rising to attention. Even now, with his arms loosely around her and his chest occasionally bumping the very top of her shoulders in what couldn’t be more than a graze, her skin felt as though it could barely contain her.

Merari supposed she could blame that on the hot blood rushing to her wounds.

The storm let up slowly as they rode in silence to the sound of their horses galloping until they reached the main road. The air was chillier around them despite the lack of trees that surrounded them on their way now and Merari could feel her wet clothes sticking to her skin. She tried not to squirm much as she tried to find comfort again until Bucky’s large warm hand on her waist stilled her movements. 

“We’re almost there,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

It was not the stiff wind breezing through her wet clothing attached to her body that made her shiver. It was the way it reacted to his touch, a warmth spread in her lower stomach and goosebumps pricked her skin.

She shouldn't be reacting to him like this. 

Through a break in the trees, Merari spotted the town sign — the carved wood stained dark by the rain. 

“We’ll find the inn,” Bucky murmured, “somewhere to warm up so I can take a look at your hand.” 

“I just need to clean it—“ 

“I have supplies, from the castle infirmary. Let me take a look at your hand, Merari.” 

His own hand fell from the reign of his stallion as he slowed the horses, guiding them up the smaller path into the town. The rough skin of his palm covered her knuckles and he turned her hand in his so he could see the graze before he brought it up to his lips and blew softly on the wound, Bucky’s tenderness surprising her.

Merari gasped at the sensation as the coolness of his breath soothed the stinging in her palm.  She turned her head to look at her knight and warmth blossomed in her chest at the expression on his face, the small crease between his brows evidence of his concentration as he inspected her hand.  

Strands of her long hair, darkened to auburn by the rain, clung to the scruff of his beard and Merari reached out with her other hand and brushed them away.  Bucky’s eyes met hers then and she saw his throat bob as he swallowed.

“It, umm, it doesn’t look too bad,” he rasped. “Just keep it covered until we can wash it.”

From somewhere inside his leather surcoat he produced a surprisingly clean kerchief.  His eyes never strayed from hers as he wrapped the fabric around her hand and gently curled her fingers closed around it.

She could feel a smile spreading across her face and tried to hold it back. Her heart pounded and the sudden closeness between them was making her shiver. Or was that the cold air? All she could focus on was how gentle his touch was, his calloused hands cradling hers tenderly as he finished wrapping her hand.

"Am I hurting you?" He asked.

"What?"

She was so lost in her spinning thoughts that she barely heard his question.

"Your hand," he clarified. His eyes were shining as he spoke, his voice slightly shaken and soft. There was that warmth again in her belly. She tried to ignore it. "Am I hurting you?"

She shook her head, keeping her breathing steady. She expected him to make a joke at her expense, but it never came. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder. 

"We should get you warm. Your father will have my head if I let you freeze to death out here."

It was only a few more minutes before he led their horses to a small inn, stopping under the cover of the stable. What seemed like a quaint tavern connected to the side of the inn and despite its size, Merari could hear the noise of the patrons outside.

"Sounds lively in there."

"Don't get any ideas, Princess," He said, sliding off the back of the horse. He reached up, offering his assistance to help her down.

She thought she had a proper grip on his forearms as she slid out of the saddle, but at the last second, she pushed her weight on her hurt hand wrong. The stabbing pain made her flinch, and she slipped.

Bucky caught her before she could fall to the ground, his arm firmly around her waist, "I got you."

Her eyes flickered up to his, shining bright blue in the glow of the tavern lights, "thank you." Merari whispered as he helped her to her feet. Strong hands steadying her as she planted her feet into the mud. She glanced around them, hoping no one had seen her tumble, taking in her surroundings, cautious of the foreign city.  

"I'm serious," he rasped as the warmth of his hands disappeared from her, "We're here to get you warm and clean that hand before it gets infected. We aren't here to make friends with the locals." 

Merari's lips quirked upwards at his demands. He knew how she tended to speak to anyone and everyone, friendly or not. "Whatever you desire, Sir Barnes." She teased cupping her hand to her chest. 

Bucky's eyes narrowed at her and she watched as his tongue flicked over his bottom lip in the way it did when he was frustrated with her. She would never admit that sometimes she'd frustrate him with purpose only to see the movement. 

His hand wrapped around her bicep again, leading her to the door. "Let's go."

Bucky released her as they climbed the two steps to the inn. Using both his hands he pushed on the doors with a loud grunt. Swinging them open to expose everyone inside to the rain and wind. 

The Inn was bustling with an assortment of patrons. Bucky watched Merari carefully, clearly gauging her reaction to the people around her. She had never seen so much diversity and it made her heart flutter with excitement despite the discomfort in her palm. 

“Stay close,” he looked back at her, his eyes scanning the packed pub floor of the Inn. “We’re looking for the owner,” he said gruffly to a drunk-looking man hanging off one of the long wooden banisters just inside the massive doors.

“Yer lookin’ at ‘im” the man belched, laughing loudly as Bucky grimaced, waving him off as he searched the room. Merari looked away from Bucky, tapping him on his arm when she found a man behind the bar, watching everyone. 

“Pretty sure it’s him,” she said and took off across the room, hearing Bucky curse and stomp after her. 

Merari reached the bar and sat down before Bucky could stop her, planting herself firmly on the stool and grinning at him when he pulled up short next to her. He glowered and turned his dark expression to the man they thought was the owner.

"Excuse me-" he said gruffly, his voice low to avoid attention before a sudden, musical voice cut him off. 

"Good evening!" Merari chirped, a bright grin on her rain-soaked face. "Are you the owner of this lovely establishment?" 

Bucky looked up at the ceiling, his eyes rolling back. He swiped his gloved hand across his face in frustration. This failed to keep Merari from leaning forward across the bar at the giant fellow cleaning glasses before them. 

"Yes, actually, I am," he replied in a more playful voice than she expected as Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Friends call me Korg. Which you can call me too. If you want to be friends. No big deal." 

"Of course! This is Bucky and I'm-"

"Look," Bucky interjected, stopping Merari before any else could fall from her pouty lips. "Could we just get something to eat, please?" 

Her brows kissed in confusion as Korg shuffled off towards a set of wooden cabinets above a small fireplace. Bucky whipped around to the princess, eyes blazing in annoyance. 

"Do you want to announce to everyone here who you are? Maybe stand up on the table and shout it out?" he growled, the low rumble of his voice making Merari's face heat up with anger and something else impossible to think about. 

"That actually sounds like a fantastic idea, Sir Barnes." 

Merari went to stand from the stool, her drenched cloak falling down from her shoulders. A broad hand shot out and gripped the fabric at one hip. 

"Princess," Bucky whispered menacingly, fully demonstrating the reason why he was the most feared and respected knight in their kingdom. "If you get up from this stool, you will not like what happens next."

“Spoilsport,” Merari huffed, pouting. She was behaving petulantly, she knew that. But she was finding great joy in seeing just how many of his buttons she could press before he would pretend to hide the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. 

“I mean it, Merari. One foot on the floor and—“

“And you’ll what, Sir Barnes?” 

Behind them, Korg cleared his throat. 

“Hello. Sorry. I thought you’d like to know what’s on offer today?” 

“Please,” Bucky sighed, exasperated. 

“It’s stew.”

Bucky nodded dismissively, “great, we’ll have—“

“Made it myself, there’s a special ingredient.” 

“Sounds delightful, Korg!” Merari beamed, “we’ll have two bowls please.”

Merari glanced back at Bucky, a sly grin spreading over her face as she slowly and very deliberately lifted her foot and touched the tip of her toe to the wooden floor.  Bucky’s jaw ticked and he drew in a breath.

“Princess…” he began, but a bellowing shriek echoed through the inn, cutting short his warning.

In less than a second Merari found herself pressed against the wooden bar as her knight moved in front of her with a dagger in his hand that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.  He scanned the room, searching for any threat to his Princess, determined to protect her at all costs.

A strange whistling noise sounded and the screaming stopped as abruptly as it started.

“Hey mister, sorry about that,” Korg shrugged and whistled again.  “It’s the goats.  They get a bit cranky at dinner time.”

He was too close. His body pressed against hers, the way his muscles seemed to twitch and tense even beneath thick leather and cloth. Merari felt like she was going to explode. She had to do something, and it didn’t help that rest of the patrons were staring at them. Merari gave Bucky a shove. 

“Get off of me!” She snapped. Bucky stumbled slightly and turned around, his eyes narrowed as Merari grabbed his dagger and threw it onto the ground. “And point that thing somewhere else! You said you wanted to be discreet. This isn’t being discreet!” 

“I'm doing my job, Princess. And if you want to talk about discreet, trying to jump on barstools and behaving like a...”

As he trailed off, his jaw ticked. She could see his adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat as his chest heaved. She liked to rile him up. Merari’s breath remained quick, eyes darting around the Inn as people slowly went back to their drinks and conversations. 

“A what?” Merari challenged, taking a step toward him. 

“Nothing.” He spat the words out like poison. 

“No. Finish your sentence, Sir Barnes.” She glared at him, cocking her head to the side. “Tell me what you really think.”

She could see him straining, holding back anger as lightning flashed in his eyes. In her periphery, she could see two bowls of stew resting on the bar counter for them. 

“I think the only thing you’ve done since we got here is make my job difficult. Now do as you’re told for once and eat your dinner. Quietly.” 

Rage bubbled in her chest. He sounded like her father. Merari turned, snatched the bowl of stew off of the counter and began to shovel it into her face, making sure to be as messy as possible.

“Oh for the love of..." He trailed off with a huff and focused on his own food. For a few moments, his attention was directed somewhere other than at her. A moment of peace. She faintly wished they could have more of those too-close-for-comfort moments from earlier, instead of always getting on each other's nerves like this, but of course, it could never lead to anything.

She hated being a Princess sometimes.

Merari slurped her stew, glancing over her shoulder as a trio of musicians started playing music by the large fireplace.

With Bucky preoccupied with his food, an idea formed in her head and a mischievous smile crossed her face.

She deserved some fun if she was to be locked up in that awful nunnery for the next few months, right?

She waited until his head dipped into his spoon, bringing the stew between his lips completely oblivious to the mischievous plan forming in her mind. The music made her heart flutter with excitement, it had been so long since she was able to just move her body. She ached for a dance that didn't involve a thousand precise steps with a man that didn't smell of stale beef and dust. 

"I must relieve myself," she blurted, slipping from the table before he could wrap his grumpy hands around her wrist and hold her in place. She heard him call out to her but the crowd closed around her and she found herself one step closer to the freedom she chased. She leaned over the section of the bar that was free to her and called to Korg. "May I have a pint?" She asked and he nodded. 

"This should cover our stay and food," she pulled two of her solid gold bangles from her wrist and the man's eyes widened. 

"That's too much," he said sliding one back alongside a tall mug of ale. 

"The second one is for the trouble," she smiled, holding the large mug between her hands and gulping it down so fast it spilled from her lips into the front of her dress. 

"The trouble?" Korg questioned but she was already backing away with her pint, moving her hips to the sound of the sweet guitar and shrill, fast paced violin.

Merari lost herself in the beats, feeling the energy of the inn travel throughout her veins, adrenaline surging until she was laughing, spinning in circles to the music. 

She could feel eyes on her everywhere, only one pair standing out but she ignored them, smiling and winking at everyone who met her gaze.

Coppery strands of her hair whirled around her face, obscuring Merari's vision as she felt the unmistakable boost of letting herself go for just a moment. No one to stop her and no one to judge, no one who would tell her father or her parents. No one except the darkly brooding knight leaned against the bar, jaw clenched tightly as he took a long drink from his mug and turned away. With a giggle, Merari spun gleefully once more before someone stopped her. She looked up into the greasy face of another bar patron, a burly man whose smell reminded Merari of the river near her home. Her nose wrinkled up in disgust as he leaned in close, his fist clutching her skirt in the same place Bucky's had been previously. 

"A pretty thing like you shouldn't be dancin' alone," the man breathed into her face as she pressed her hands to his chest, trying to push him back. His weight nearly had her pinned against a nearby table, close to the wall. 

"That's funny because I was doing...just...fine," Merari grunted and shoved with each word, turning her head from the unwelcome intrusion. A little bit of panic bubbled up in her chest and she took a deep breath, not knowing if she was going to scream profanities or call out for someone to help. For Bucky to help. 

A dagger flew through the air, whizzing by Merari's soft waves and slicing the cheek of the man towering above her. He howled blood gushing from just under his eye before turning to face an enraged Bucky, a second dagger clutched in his grasp. 

"The first one was because my lady is present," Bucky growled, fury blackening his ocean tinted eyes. "The second one won't miss." 

Merari’s eyes widened, but not at the sight of him flinging the knife or the almost perfect execution. She smirked, leaning against a beam in the centre of the pub as if there wasn’t a man with a bleeding face or Bucky gearing up to strike again. 

“Your lady as in, you serve me or your lady as in—“ 

“Not the time, Merari.” Bucky grunts out, “get to safety.” 

Merari raised an eyebrow. 

“Please, for the love of all things holy,” he sighed, just as another drunken idiot dared to swing a fist.

Bucky caught the guy’s hand before he could make contact and wrenched his arm around. A sickening crack sounded and his attacker let out a strangled cry and cradled his now broken wrist. Bucky shoved him away and turned to Merari, thrusting the hilt of one of his small daggers into her hand before pointing angrily over to the corner of the bar where it met the wall.

“Get. Over. There,” he gritted, shoving his elbow back into the face of another assailant, flattening his nose in a spray of blood. “And if anyone comes near you…”

“I know, I know, stick ‘em with the pointy end,” Merari grinned.

As she ran for a set of doors near the back of the bar, Merari heard a deafening roar coming from one of the incredibly drunk patrons. When she glanced back, she caught Bucky blocking a hit from a large knife. He ducked and weaved out of the way as the drunken man tried swinging at him again. Merari pressed herself against the door, her own knife clutched in her hand as she watched Bucky handle the man with ease. 

He thrust his dagger into the shoulder of his assailant before he leaned back one leg and kicked him in the chest, knocking him backward. The man let out another scream as he collapsed to the ground and Bucky strutted toward him, bending down to remove the blade. As he wiped it off on his tunic, another man charged at him from across the bar. 

“BUCKY!” Merari screamed.

Without missing a beat, Bucky turned to his left and hurled the blade and Merari watched as it made a sick squelching sound when it hit the man’s eyeball. He let out a bloodcurdling scream, falling to the floor as a river of crimson poured down his face.

“I told you I don’t miss,” Bucky snarled. He held out both arms as he turned to face the patrons who were cowered in the corner. “Does anyone else have something they’d like to say to me?!”

There were splintered chairs, spilled drinks, and sticky ale all over the floor from the fight. Merari rolled her eyes as Bucky smirked when nobody answered him.

“Yeah!” The Barkeep shouted. “You’re paying for that!”

Merari slid the last of her gold bangles off, and slid it across the bar, "Uh, sorry. I didn't think there would be quite so much blood."

When no one else approached, Bucky turned his attention back to Merari, storming across the bar toward her.

"Can we get our room key?" She squeaked at Korg. As Bucky grabbed her, the barkeeper shoved the key into her hands.

Bucky heaved Merari over his shoulder, "You. Are in so much trouble," he hissed, marching them up the stairs.

He balanced her tightly against him, his strong grip digging into her thighs even through her thick, damp dress. 

"You can put me down now you giant oaf," she squirmed against him but it only made him hold her tighter. "You're only fun when your violent," she griped, propping her face up on her hand with her elbow against his back. She waved politely to a drunk patron at the top of the stairs, his face between the maid's breasts and his hand up her skirt. 

"Stop," Bucky shifted her weight. "Every time you open your mouth a man finds five new reasons to shut it for you." 

"You haven't yet," she quipped as he snaked his hand around his back, his blood-soaked hand was palm up. 

"The key," he growled, and she dropped it for him. "And trust me, I've thought about it. Do not run." He said before finally setting her down and spinning her in the direction of the door to their room which he had propped open with his heavy boot. 

"No," she said, whirling around to look at him, her long red hair whipping him across the chest. "There's only one bed."

Bucky stood in the door, looking down at her, his expression the same as a stone. She only ever saw him like that once, years ago when she invited some locals over to their castle’s library to teach them how to read. Bucky wasn’t amused in the slightest. Still, after days, he wasn’t talking to her, only if necessary. 

“I’ll take the floor, your highness.” his stoic expression was back. 

“I can’t let you sleep on the floor, Bucky.” She shook her head. “And I told you, it’s Merari.”

The floorboards creaked as he took a step towards her and the princess stood her ground, tilting her head back slightly. Merari tried to emulate her mother, ruling coldly from a distance, but the knight before her was making her resolve melt quickly. 

"So," he asked with a slight smirk on his handsome face. "You are going to share a bed with me, princess?" 

The pull to take the next step and close the distance between them was strong, almost tangible in the smoky room. 

"You aren't the first knight that I've...lain with," Merari clipped back, stumbling slightly over her choice of words as Bucky's nose flared and his jaw twitched. Something like jealousy flickered in his eyes before he stepped around her, removing his belt. 

"What are you doing?!" Merari shrieked as Bucky unclasped his cloak and tossed it on a nearby chair. 

"We've been riding for hours, I'm not sleeping in this, my lady," he replied with snark, removing the leather and chain mail he wore over his woollen tunic.

Merari’s gaze tracked over him, with each layer lost a new form of definition revealed itself. From the sleeves of his tunic taut across his arms to the way it rose slightly at his hips as he lifted the chainmail up and over his head. 

She was so lost in her admiration of him that she completely missed him speaking to her until he appeared blurred before her, fingers wrapping around the wrist of her injured hand. 

“Merari,” he rumbled, dipping his head so she would meet his eye. “I still need to clean this, take a seat while I fetch a jug of water.” 

For once Merari did as she was told, lowering herself down until she perched on the edge of the bed.  The hint of a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth as, with a hum of approval, Bucky turned and made his way across to the other side of the room, rolling up the sleeves of his linen shirt until they reached his elbows.

Merari couldn’t help but watch as he busied himself at the dresser, pouring water from a large jug into the accompanying wash basin.  His shirt was of a fine enough weave that she could see the muscles of his back moving fluidly as he lifted the heavy jug and found herself becoming completely lost in the way the leather of his trousers hugged the curves of his ass and thighs.

He rooted around in the dresser drawer, grumbling under his breath. Normally, she would have teased him about it, but her mind was.. elsewhere. 

“Take the wrap off,” he told her, glancing over his shoulder. Probably to make sure she was actually sitting down. Merari just stared at him, her jaw slightly slack, eyes still wandering up and down his strong legs. “Merari, are you listening to me?” 

His tone was slightly sharp, pulling her back down to reality. 

“What? Oh, um… of course.” She shook her head and unwrapped her hand as Bucky stepped toward her with a damp white cloth clutched in his fist. 

He knelt down in front of her, his massive body making a thunk sound as he hit the floor. He grasped her wrist gently with one hand and began to clean her wound. She felt heat gathering beneath her dress and swallowed hard. His gaze was focused, brows knitting together as he worked. But Merari could see a blush gathering along his jawline, betraying him as it crept up into his ears.

“You don’t have to kneel in front of me,” she whispered.

“You’re a Princess, my lady.” He looked up at her, his eyes shimmering and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s my duty to kneel for you.”

Merari was at a loss, her tongue dragging over her suddenly parched lips.

Bucky held her gaze, "Just as it's my duty to protect you."

The intensity of his gaze suddenly shifted, and he smirked, "Which is why I'm the one who stands guard at your door. Every. Single. Night."

He finished cleaning her hand and raised himself up, leaning in so close she could feel his breath on her face when he spoke again, "Would you tell me, Princess, when you had the chance to lay with any other knights? Because I would have gutted anyone who came to you will ill intent." 

Merari could feel the goosebumps as they appeared over the skin on her arms, if she tilted her chin up her nose could brush against the soft scruff of his tense and angry jaw. She could feel his breath and with it the hungry desire to show her just how badly she had been caught in her lie. 

"You think you know your princess because you stand guard?" She quipped, and even then as the burning rush of fear coursed through her she steeled herself, she had never lost an argument against him, and she wasn't about to let him get the best of her that easily. "Then you already know all the sweet sounds I can make without the help of a man."

His blue eyes grew dark with challenges as they flickered over her face, hesitating only for a moment on the pout of her bottom lip before he spoke again, "I have every single soft, sweet whine that has ever left those lips," he inched closer, trapping her on the bed between his strong arms and pressed his lips to her ear, "memorized."

Merari felt her body melt as one of those whines started to slip through her teeth. She stopped it halfway, breathing heavily through her nose as she felt Bucky’s lips press into a grin against the skin of her earlobe. 

She swallowed hard and lifted her chin an inch, her nose brushing deeper into his long, soft curls. He smelled of rain, sweat and the iron tang of blood. 

“Merari…” Bucky whispered, turning his face slowly, lips trailing along her skin,  brushing against her jaw until he was at the corner of her mouth. 

She parted her lips slightly, taking a breath, feeling her lower lip touch his upper one.

“Tell me,” he whispered against her lips, “what is it that makes your mouth leave those pretty noises at night when you think nobody is listening?” his mouth was just inches away from hers.

“Tell me,” he demanded in a soft tone which made her lower parts fill with more heat. 

His hand slowly caressed her arm up and down, his hot breath still just inches away from hers. When he slowly brushed the fabric of her dress to the side, his bare hand on her sensitive skin, she couldn’t resist a small whimper.

“Exactly like that, princess,” he grinned in satisfaction, getting that kind of reaction out of her.

"Don't," Merari whispered and Bucky's hand moved away from her like he was burned by the flushed skin across her collarbones. 

"No," she breathed with a soft laugh. "I mean...don't call me princess. There's no one else here, for the gods' sake." 

Her exasperated tone made his eyebrow quirk up, but he said nothing. The palm of his hand caressed her cheek as he leaned closer, the other hand coming around her back to keep her close. Close to him is where she belonged at all times if she had her way. 

"As you wish," Bucky smiled softly, his tongue darting out over his lips before rubbing his nose against hers.

She bit her lip and found every fleck of grey in his blue eyes as he watched her face for any sign she was scared. 

"Tell me what you want...Merari."

“I want…” she started, senses heightened with the warmth of his breath and delicate brush of his nose. 

“It’s just us,” Bucky reminded her, voice soft and low and only for her in the quiet lodgings.

“Kiss me?” 

Not as bold as she’d have liked with her request, her eyelids fluttered closed as Bucky dragged the tip of his nose lower, lips ghosting hers. 

“Things might change if we do this.” 

“I don’t care, kiss me. Touch me, Bucky. Show me how you would unearth the sounds you overhear.”

She could feel the muscles of his arm tremble under the delicate touch of her hand as if he were at war with himself.

“Bucky,” she whispered against his mouth, “please.”

A low groan left his chest and the last thin thread of his restraint snapped.  His hand slid from her cheek to cradle the back of her head as he closed the final hair’s breadth between them and captured her lips with his.

She whimpered against his mouth, her own so unsure and timid in response. She’d never been kissed like this before. The way his stubble scratched her skin, surely leaving marks behind, the desperation in the way he held her, it was enough to make her head spin. 

But the lie that she had told him about laying with other knights sat like a knot in the pit of her stomach. He was going to know by the way she kissed, or the way she was beginning to tremble beneath him. He was gentle and tender, pulling moan after moan out of her as he took complete control. One of his hands rested on her waist, warm and inviting despite her soaked dress, fingers playing at the soft leather cords that kept it fastened to her body. 

He pulled back, his pupils nearly black and his throat bobbing up and down in his throat nervously as he studied every inch of her face. She felt warm beneath his gaze and his lips formed a sly and wicked smile.

“You’ve never lain with a Knight, have you?” He asked.

“I told you I have.”

His smirk grew wider.

“You and I both know that’s not true, my dove.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “I'm outside your bed chamber every single night. If you want this, I need to hear you say it.”

“I want this,” she practically whimpered.

The words tumbled from her lips and Bucky pulled back, nodding his head. 

“Can I undress you?” 

Her eyes widened and her chest got tighter and tighter with each breath she took. She was just trying to keep herself upright.

“Yes.” 

He turned her around to face the bed and she could feel her legs struggling to hold her up. Suddenly, the leather strings that kept her dress fastened began to loosen and one of Bucky’s calloused hands drifted up toward his shoulder to push the fabric down. He left soft kisses and a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

“I’ll be gentle,” he assured her, warmth stitched into his voice. “I promise.”

Her dress fell loose, the cool air licking at her hot skin as his other hand snaked around her waist, pulling her back against his chest tightly. Her skin connected with the damp fabric of his tunic and she scowled, needing to feel his skin. 

"There are too many layers between us Knight," she whined. She nearly melted as his chest rustled against her in a quiet laugh. He carefully moved her hair over her shoulder, nuzzling his nose into the base of her neck as he tried to hide his amusement. "Are you laughing at me?" She asked, trying to pull away. 

"Perhaps," he mumbled, gripping her tighter. He nibbled at her ear lobe, running his sharp teeth against her sensitive skin as his fingers drummed gently against her hip above her skirts. "Be patient Merari, the storm rages still outside and I plan to take my time with you before we are shoved back to the world that awaits us when the clouds break."

Despite his words, his hands moved to unlace the layers she had on underneath, pushing her skirts past her hips, hands following the path of the fabric until they fell away above her knee, falling to the floor, leaving her only in her chemise. 

Bucky’s hands slowly slid back up the fronts of her thighs, one hand sliding around to the side, sliding on the fabric and just barely cupping her ass. His other hand trailed lightly across her front, crossing over her covered mound, with the slightest hesitation, continuing on up her stomach to the bottoms of her heaving breasts. 

“Tell me, Merari,” Bucky whispered, hovering just behind her, not letting the cold fabric of his tunic touch her warm skin. “Would you have me undress first, or shall I finish what I started?”

"It wouldn't be very chivalrous of you to leave a lady wanting," Merari breathed with a lust filled grin, leaning back as his thumb and index finger wrapped around the base of her neck gently. "But I would like to see you first." 

Turning in his arms, Merari met Bucky's gaze and realized just how far gone he was. There was a longing in his eyes that pierced her chest and made her heart swell. 

With slow movements, Merari unlaced the strings at his throat, exposing soft planes of muscle and dark curls of hair that made her mouth go dry. Bucky merely watched her trembling hands as they lifted his tunic over his shoulders and she laid eyes on him for the first time. 

The familiar golden skin was littered with scars, sword slashes and small jabs covering his chest and abdomen. The hard muscles spoke of a life spent in service, built for battle and bringing death. She stood on her tiptoes, kissing him once more gently, the soft swirl of his tongue so different than she would have ever imagined. Each kiss was like something different and now that her hands were on his bare skin, she craved more.

Merari had often stared at Bucky with longing - while he trained, when he guarded her, and when he was at ease with some of the other knights he called friends – daydreaming about what lay under his armour and his tunic.  Now, pressed against the heat of his bare chest that was littered with the scars of his devotion to her safety, Merari realised that her imagination had failed her spectacularly in her envisioning of his beauty.

He stilled as her delicate hands explored the geography of his musculature, allowing her a chance to discover for herself all of his wonders.  Each cleft and ridge of taut muscle, goose-fleshed skin, and a light shiver that followed the ghosting of her fingertips over his nipple.  Her doe eyes met his, hooded and dark with fettered lust, but still, he held for her.

In a moment of bravery, Merari laid a gentle kiss upon his chest, over a particularly nasty-looking scar.  One she recalled he had gotten saving her from a boar on a picnic several years ago.  Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed and he sighed heavily through his nose.  All the ladies in waiting liked to talk about how the men would moan if a lady placed her lips just so.

Merari continued, kiss after tender kiss until, when almost kneeling, her fingertips lingered on the ties of his britches, and he flinched.  Bucky’s hands snatched hers away swiftly but gently.

“Hear me well, my Lady,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.  “I can’t deny that I want this, and have for some time.  But I won’t have you prostrate yourself before me when it is my place to kneel at your feet.”

Merari’s breath hitched in her throat as Bucky walked her backwards until she felt the bed bump softly against the back of her legs.  She sat automatically, lost in the reverent depths of his eyes as this giant of a man sank to his knees before her for the second time that night.  His hand found her cheek, cupping it gently as his thumb stroked across her cheekbone and then down over her mouth, dragging her bottom lip a little on the calloused pad.

A rush of heat flowed through her just from the intensity of his stare as his eyes flickered over the planes of her face before coming to rest on her mouth.  She felt his fingers flex on her cheek just a little before he pulled her towards him and kissed her with a fervour even greater than before.

He pulled her top lip between his, his other hand reaching up to cage her face, and Merari sank into his embrace.  Draping her arms around his neck she couldn’t help but open her legs wider, aching to feel him closer.  A desperate moan left her throat as his hand, once on her face, now slid over her knees and made its gentle but determined progress over the soft skin of her thigh.

She shivered against the metaphorical flames that licked her skin as Bucky’s tongue pushed and swirled against hers. His fingers danced along her skin, moving at an almost agonizing pace and she lifted her hips a little, aching for more. More of him, more of his mouth, anything. A small whimper filled the room that made Bucky chuckle against her mouth. He pulled back, his hand moving higher and higher until he was tracing letters along her inner thigh and she realized he was spelling his name. Leaving an invisible mark. Tears brimmed in her eyes and she clenched her teeth so hard she thought they would crumble in the back of her mouth.

Bucky’s lips curled into the warmest smile she had ever seen. Her eyes raked over the scars and soft freckles on his chest. She began to trace them with one fingertip, going lower and lower until Bucky grasped her wrist.

“Undress me,” she commanded, trying to put some authority back into her voice. 

Bucky merely chuckled and his fingers found a spot between her thighs that made her eyes widen the second he began to circle it. There was a beautiful pulsing sensation that made her rock her hips, and her head fell back as she let out another ragged groan. 

“You might have authority out there,” his voice gruff as he dragged the tip of his nose up and down her throat. “But not in here, little dove. Do you feel where my fingers are?”

“Yes,” she rasped, choking on another moan.

“Good. I’m going to put my mouth here, okay?”

“Your mouth? Wh—"

“Yes or no, Merari. That’s all I need to hear.”

Her head swam with lust and she nodded her head, letting a soft, “yes” nestle between them. Suddenly, the warm breath on her face vanished and Bucky’s face was nestled between her thighs, his head concealed by her chemise. She felt his lips gliding along her skin, and the roughness of his beard made her whimper. And then his tongue found that spot and she covered her mouth with one hand before opting to bite down hard on her knuckles as she let out a strangled cry.

Bucky stopped suddenly, silencing her protest with a kiss on her inner thigh, and using his fingers again where his mouth had been a moment ago.

"My lady, I want to hear you scream," He rasped, pushing away the hem of her chemise so he could see her better. His stubble was dripping with the dampness that had formed between her legs, "Don't you dare swallow those beautiful noises."

Merari nodded, "Yes, yes! Just don't stop!"

He chuckled, diving back in with a long, slow, torturous lick up her folds before sucking on that sensitive spot again.

"Oh, oh! Bucky!"

His hands spread her thighs further apart, his fingers coaxing her folds apart, getting coated in thick wetness.  As he sucked on that one spot, above where his hand was, he gently pushed a finger inside her. 

“God! Bucky, oh my god, how- it’s so-” Merari couldn’t finish her sentence, overwhelmed and feeling strangely full yet empty at the same time. 

“If it’s too much, I’ll stop,” Bucky said, a head popped out from her skirt, stilling his hand with his finger mostly inside her. 

“No! I want this, I want more. Please Bucky?” Merari asked, propping herself up on her elbows to look at him.

It was strange, the taste of herself on his tongue, but feeling the rumble of a groan against her lips had her throbbing again. She moved impatiently against him and Bucky gripped her thighs, gently holding her in place.

"Patience," he chastised, a stern look on his handsome face. "You deserve someone who will take their time." 

Bucky kissed the apple of her cheek and she giggled softly, feeling his hands slide the fabric of her chemise up until she was exposed to the warm firelight. 

"Someone who will give you everything you need," he murmured once more. 

This time, his mouth sucked at the unblemished skin of her neck, making Merari keen and gasp in his arms. It was like a bite, but it sent shockwaves straight to her cunt. His tongue soothed the mark before Bucky raised his head. 

Dropping down to his knees once more, his hands kneaded the soft flesh of her thighs and Merari groaned as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Someone," Bucky breathed as her legs splayed open in his grasp. "Who will bow to you and enjoy every second of it." 

It was as if he knew exactly want she wanted, all those years of watching and waiting leading to this. He probably knew her better than she knew herself and he took it out on her body with skilled precision. 

As his tongue delved deep inside her, Merari gripped the thick locks of dark hair that brushed her thighs. 

"Oh my," she gasped with a breathless laugh, shocked at the sudden sensation. "Gods, Bucky."

Looking down beyond the scrunched-up fabric of her chemise, the exposed plane of her tummy and the soft curls of her mound, she met Bucky’s eyes as he devoured her eagerly.  The thrill and stifled embarrassment she felt joined seamlessly with the intense pleasure building with each kiss, each lick, and each wicked suckling his mouth made.  She threw her head back and moaned, gasping as if her breath had been stolen, and all Bucky did was smirk, his twinkling eyes full of mischief.

It was all too much, and yet not enough.  The sharpness of her pleasure, exquisite in its ferocity, was too much to take.  She bore down, clenching around the absence of Bucky’s finger, the feeling almost enough.  Almost.

“Please…”

Her begs were like sobs, wracked with desperation until she felt him at her entrance once more.  He circled teasingly as he consumed her, his finger dipping inside deeper with each intrusion.  The slight sting caused her to gasp but he shushed her and soothed her with kisses to her inner thighs, gently stroking deep inside her.  His deft finger added more pleasure once he returned his lips to their sworn task.

The bedsheets twisted into a knot within her clenched fist as Merari tried to ground herself against the intensity of the feelings that coursed through her.  It was as if a spring were being wound inside her, tighter and tighter with every movement of Bucky’s finger, every lave of his tongue.

Her other hand found its way into his hair, twining themselves through his locks and urging him ever on.  Her hips began to buck against his face, small movements at first that grew as pleasure began to overtake her.

“Gods, more Bucky, please!” She begged through gritted teeth, almost screaming as he slid a second finger inside her along with the first.

“That’s it Merari, let me hear you.”

Her screams threatened to crumble the walls, but she didn’t care. Bucky’s fingers seemed to be hitting a spot inside of her that lit up every nerve ending— that combined with the pressure and pace of his tongue… She felt like weeping, and she didn’t know why. 

Merari felt like an elastic band stretched so tightly that when he crooked his fingers, she cried out again, a tidal wave of pleasure drowning her as her muscles began to tremble. Bucky continued to lap at that spot and move his fingers at a deliciously slow pace while wave after wave of pure bliss consumed her and forced strangled cries from her throat. 

She was coated in sweat and when it was all too much, she squeezed his head between her thighs and whimpered. Every muscle contracted and relaxed as Bucky withdrew his fingers, climbing on top of her while she sucked in the cool air.

“I told you I committed every single one of those sounds you made for me to memory,” he said softly, one hand gliding up her waist and cupping her breast. She felt sparks as he dragged his thumb across her nipple. “But I don’t think I’ve heard them all just yet.”

She swallowed the invisible wad of cotton lodged in the back of her throat.

“I-- I was bluffing,” she choked out, humiliation washing over her in the aftermath.

Bucky chuckled, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I know.” Another kiss. "It's alright. I'll guide you. I belong to you tonight, Merari."

As the tremors eased away, Bucky nuzzled Merari's neck, kissing and nipping at her skin.

"You ready for more, my dove?" He asked, pausing in his affections to check on her.

"More?" She asked, amazed that there could be anything better than what she had just experienced.

"Of course," He whispered, "That was just the beginning."

Bucky pressed more kisses to Merari’s neck, trailing down her chest until he was sucking her nipple into his mouth, fabric and all. She gasped at the sensation, cool silky fabric getting wet with his warm saliva and breath. 

Merari held his head to her chest, her fingers buried in his long locks, pressing up into his mouth as his hand cupped her other breast, fingers rolling and gently pinching her nipple. 

“Bucky, please, I need-“ Merari stopped herself. 

“Tell me, my dove, what do you need?” Bucky asked as he pulled back, her chemise soaked, the air cool and making her nipple harden further. 

“I need, whatever more is,” she murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his jaw, losing herself and pressing more kisses up to his neck to his ear. “Please good sir, I need- I need you.”

Bucky turned to catch her lips with his own as he lifted her up, her thighs clenching around his stomach as they slid further up the bed. She let out an involuntary gasp at the sudden motion and Bucky let out a gentle laugh. 

Settling down between her thighs, his hips dug into her skin as he rocked against her, the leather pants rough but slick against her cunt. 

"Bucky," Merari whined as she laughed. "Stop teasing." 

"After all the time I've waited," Bucky drawled above her, her nails digging into his shoulders as he dragged his hips against her slowly. "I think I've earned a little bit of teasing...Merari." 

At the sound of her name on his lips once more she whimpered and kissed him hard, panting with need. Her hips rolled against him, in slow, steady waves as Bucky reached down to unlace his breeches.

“We go slow,” he rumbled, that raspy voice making more heat flare in her chest. “You tell me if it’s too much.” 

He grasped one of her wrists and brought her hand up to wrap around his cock. She gasped softly at the size of it and Bucky let out a groan, guiding her hand to stroke him slowly. He was already falling apart and quickly, Merari began to get the hang of it, even gliding her thumb over the tip. It seemed to make him shiver. She liked that.

“Just like that, sweetheart.” His head rolled back, along with his eyes until she saw the whites of them. “Fuck.”

She continued to stroke him, but every second he wasn’t inside of her was pure agony. She felt a deep ache, almost like a hunger inside of her and wound her legs around his waist. It was then that she realized how much she had wanted this, all of the back and forth between them, the barbs they traded, the insults… none of it mattered. She let it all fall away.

“Please,” she begged.

He chuckled.

“I could get used to hearing that word from you.”

“And I could get used to you kneeling,” she quipped. 

Bucky smirked as Merari guided his cock toward her slick cunt, pushing the tip against her entrance; testing herself. He let out a whine and dipped his head, kissing her softly.

“Anything for you.”

Slowly, he began to push inside of her. It stung, and he was careful to go as slow as he could. Bucky kissed away the tears that stained her lashes and all Merari could feel was warmth in her chest, spreading slowly to every part of her body as he filled her up. Pain began to turn to pleasure as her body relaxed and she took him deeper and deeper. Bucky kissed the tip of her nose when he noticed her breath getting shallow.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Her breath hitched in her chest and she nodded a little desperately, her hands sliding up from where they had migrated to his hips, up his back and to his shoulders. She clung to him, broad and filling up all her senses, the tang of sweat and blood still in the air as they moved, joining with the scent of sex, creating a heady atmosphere that Merari let herself fall deeper into. 

Her back arched as Bucky’s cock brushed against a spot inside her, making sparks light up the blood in her veins. A moan left her lips and Bucky smirked, a groan leaving his own lips as Merari tightened on him, responding to the pleasure she felt.

He kept his promise, rocking his hips slowly while peppering her face with sweet kisses. Merari was already beginning to fall apart. She raked her fingernails down his back, feeling a topography of scars along his skin, tracing the elevation of each and wondering where he got it and how. She wondered if he cried, or took each wound with his teeth gritted. There was no doubt in her mind that Bucky was strong. She could see it, but part of her always thought there was a softness to him. It was difficult to find through his arrogance and icy exterior.

Merari’s moans grew louder and louder as her body moved with his, the bed creaking beneath them and they became lost in each other. 

“I’ve needed you for so long,” he confessed through moans.

She reached up and cupped his cheek, gliding her thumb across his stubble.

"How long?" She asked.

"My whole life."

Merari felt the familiar sting at the corners of her eyes return once more, only this time it was because the man she lived to aggravate, torment with her silly notions and acts of rebellion had turned into someone she would need for more than just tonight. 

"Bucky," she whimpered feeling him settle completely within her. She wiggled and writhed beneath him forcing herself to become accustomed to his size and only driving her pleasure as her body moved. 

He dipped his head, leaving a trail of kisses along her jawline, down the column of her neck and in between the swell of her breasts. "Say my name again, Merari." Bucky requested, the tone in his voice was needy but with enough rasp that caused her skin to gooseflesh. 

"Bucky," she moaned feeling his hips pull away from her almost completely before slowly driving himself within her again. His name was long and drawn out with the movement only to be accompanied by the sweet sound of his own pleasure escaping from his lips against her sweltering skin.

Merari wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him close to her, forcing him deep inside her, his hips grinding and making short little thrusts. 

Every movement of his hips had his cock pressing against that spot from earlier, the one that made her feel alight. 

The feeling kept building, and Merari couldn’t hold it back, this fire raging throughout her as she screamed her pleasure, shouting out her knight’s name.

She was overcome with bliss, and Bucky began to fuck her with wild abandon, hitting that spot over and over again until she was quivering beneath him.

“I’m gonna—“

“Please,” she begged. “Please, Bucky?”

Every muscle coiled beneath her touch and Bucky’s hips stilled as he spilled into her, his broken cry forcing her back to arch as he pulled one more climax out of her. Finally, he collapsed, mouth gliding against hers as they breathed heavily. She wanted to say something but there was nothing to say, and her mind was half gone anyway. Merari wasn’t even sure if she would be able to write her own name after that.

He pulled back and smiled at her.

“Are you okay?”

She laughed and her fingertips brushed his cheek, but his eyes were desperately searching hers, checking in, making sure he hadn’t hurt her.

“I’m wonderful, Bucky.”

She kissed him again to reassure him.

Merari felt him melt into her kiss. She wanted to kiss him like this every day, every hour for the next eternity of their lives. It seemed to be hasty but as he pulled away from her and the blue in his eyes had returned where the usual stoned anger sat, was now something softer and littered with warmth. 

Bucky slowly rolled from her and off of the bed. Merari watched as he tucked himself back into his trousers as he moved towards the dresser and the bowl of water. 

"What are you after?" She asked, propping herself up onto her elbows. Her voice was quiet with disappointment that his warmth was taken from her. 

He glanced over his shoulder, working one of the clean rags in the water and gently wringing it out. "A rag," Bucky started as he turned to her and made his way back to the bed. He sat beside her, "let me clean you up?" He asked gently, holding the rag carefully in his hand as he waited for permission to touch her. 

She wasn't sure as to what he meant but she trusted him. Merari laid back with a soft nod only wincing slightly at the chill from the water hitting the inside of her thigh as Bucky worked smoothly to wipe up the remnants of their need for one another. 

"You don't have to do this," she said softly, watching the way the muscles in his biceps moved with him. 

Again those blue eyes met her with the most beautiful smile she'd ever seen, "I do because it is my duty to take care of you, with or without the armor."

Merari’s heart swelled, a smile and blush overtaking her face, making her turn and bury her face in the pillow. 

Bucky returned to the dresser, wringing out the rag and setting it to dry, hesitating only a moment before turning around. 

Merari lifted her head, gazing at Bucky beyond the edge of the bed. “You’re not going leave me cold here, are you?” she asked, sitting up, propping herself up on her non injured hand, reaching down and pulling at the bed covers.

Bucky grinned.

“It would be foolish of me to ignore a beautiful woman in my bed.”

She arched a brow.

“Your bed? I paid for this room.”

He climbed onto the mattress and she felt it dip beneath his weight as he pressed a kiss to her lips. She giggled against his mouth, but Bucky seemed to savour the sound like he was afraid of losing something. His hands cupped her face and he broke the kiss, staring at her.

“Every day I thank the gods that I get to wake up and look at you.”

She bit her lip.

“Even when I frustrate you?”

“Especially when you frustrate me,” Bucky laughs, grasping her injured hand tenderly and pressing kisses to her knuckles. Bright blue eyes caught hers and her heart felt like it was cracking. Bucky lifted his head. “Merari, I—"

He exhaled softly and tried to speak again but all he could do was shake his head. Merari pressed her finger to his lips. She knew what he was trying to say, the words that were caught in his chest as he took a breath. Her mouth covered his again and she pulled him down on top of her, her legs winding around his. If she asked him to run away with her right now, the desperation in his kisses told her he might say yes. 

Merari broke the kiss and Bucky smiled. 

“We should sleep,” he murmured.

"Will tomorrow be different?" She blurted, the sudden fear of her life and the idea of this night ending swarming her. 

Bucky's tongue ran over his bottom lip as he considered his answer. Though a part of her knew she wouldn't want to hear it. 

"Tomorrow will be just like any other day," he started as he righted her chemise and rolled next to her tugging the quilts up and over their bodies, "you will frustrate me to no end and I will wish to the stars that we will not part," he wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her to his chest, "but," his voice dropped gently, "you are a Princess though you disdain the word with every fiber of your being, there are duties you have to uphold as do I." 

"So your answer is yes," she said hiding the crack in her voice through a whisper as she tucked her head into his neck. 

"I wish that it was not." 

Merari sniffled softly hoping he wouldn't hear her but his hold on her grew a little tighter reassuring her that at least for this night, he was not going anywhere. 

Soon, she fell asleep listening to the quiet thundering of his heart raising her white flag to a night she wouldn't forget. 

Morning crept in slowly and as rays of sunshine filtered through the dusted windows Merari's eyes opened slowly. It was quiet in the inn below. The boisterous noise from the night before had settled leaving the soft creaking of the wood settling and the gentle rhythm of her breathing. She rolled over, finding the bed to be empty next to her. She splayed her hand across where Bucky had laid his head for the night, the sheets still warm from him. 

It was only then she heard the faint sound of voices just outside the door. She tried to listen for a moment and could hear the unmistakable sound of Bucky's morning voice getting closer to the wooden door before it slowly pushed open. 

He was still in the leather trousers he wore from the night before and the tunic had returned to cover the mapped-out scars she had committed to memory. His hair was a little curlier from sleep and the stubble that peppered his jaw had darkened a tad bit with the new morn. 

"Good morning," she said catching his attention. 

His body tensed at the sound of her voice. He clutched an envelope in his hand and balanced two bowls of porridge in the other, "Good Morning Princess." 

Merari's heart cracked at the use of her title. No longer was she just Merari, no the formalities of their relationship had returned. "What is that you have?" 

She raised a long painted finger to the letter. 

"A letter from the kingdom." He answered, setting the bowls onto the dresser before holding out the letter to her, "It's addressed to you." 

Her brows furrowed gently as she took the envelope, opening it and scanning over the words. She felt her eyes widen and covered her mouth with her hand to hold back the gasp lodged in her throat. 

"He's dead." Was all she could muster. 

Bucky sat down next to her on the bed, taking the letter from her and reading the words confirming that the King had been murdered during transport back to the Castle. She ached to feel almost nothing for her father's death only horror at how the letter described it. "This means that--" 

"You're Queen." He finished for her. Their eyes met as silence fell between them. 

"Queen," Merari tested out the new title that felt more foreign than Princess. 

He leaned forward, his hands cupping her cheeks as he discarded the letter, "My lady, this means you return Home, not to the nunnery and-" The words became stuck in his throat like molasses. 

"I don't leave you nor you leave I," this time it was her that finished for him. 

He shook his head, a sad smile spread across his lips as he leaned into her, pressing his forehead to hers, "Today is different my dove but it is the start of something much greater." 

"You are under my command?" She asked, knowing the answer. 

She felt him smile as his lips brushed hers, "I was always under your command, Merari."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x oc #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #marvel au #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #marvel one shot #fantasy au #knight x princess #one bed #grumpy x sunshine #smut

[monster-cock69]

Selkie Peter and confused tony who was just trying to be polite by picking up the kids oddly heavy coat

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #avengers #marvel #fantasy au #kinda #selkie peter #spiderman #iron man #prompt #someone please write this #accidental marriage

[artficlly]

lady of the ghosts [chapter 8]

After a great plague ravages your city, you are looking to marry to secure safety for your people. With a war finally ending, the nearby kingdoms are looking to celebrate. King James "Bucky" Barnes decides to continue his family's tradition of hosting a courting season. A medieval courting marvel AU.

Pairing: king!bucky x lady!reader

Warnings: FLUFF, sexual tension, some angst, mention of sex work, mention of war, mention of funeral, tiny amount of anxiety/doubt, swearing, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 3.5

A/N: i wanted to make this a smaller chapter before shit hits the fan, very dialogue heavy and fluffy. please let me know what you think and reblog/like! sorry for any typos - enjoy!!

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

It was said that Neume once dwelled in the waters surrounding Faliene. As a guardian of the city, she waited beneath the waves. If she detected malice on the ships that entered her waters, she would rise from the ocean floor, her body hulking and blue with seaweed and barnacles entangled across her flesh. She would seize the ships with an iron grip, the wood splintering and cracking under the strain. She would drag the sailors to the bottom of the dark, sandy sea, where they would either drown or perish in her crushing grip. 

She was a protector in more ways than one; her presence wasn’t only to instill fear in those who ventured into the Falienean waters but also to aid those who worshiped her. They claimed she would herd the fish towards the fishermen who sailed off the coast, easing the giant schools into the hand-woven nets. On quiet, empty nights, some claim you could hear her singing. Her hums were reminiscent of whales, eerie and lonesome as they reached across the vast, vacant waters. Her song would lull the creatures to sleep, and only then could she be at peace. 

According to legend, Nemue's deep sleep, brought on by her own song, is what caused Faliene's misfortunes to start. As her children waited for her to return, disease and evil crept into her beloved city and slowly poisoned those who remained. Faliene held her breath, waiting in anticipation for the return of her song. The north had been stuck in a slumber for too long; it was time for her to come alive once more. 

The breeze was stronger than usual up on the rocky cliff of The Fishhook. The slowly rising sun partially melted the snow and ice below, where the waves pounded mercilessly along the exposed coast.  

James squinted his azure eyes against the whipping wind, his hair tousled, and his cheeks pink. The two of you had decided to hike up the southernmost point of Faliene’s coastline before it turned to mountain and sea. You had taken the daunting and winding path upward to the peak of The Fishook, a large curved outlook that had been creatively named due to its shape. Halfway up the path, Steve and Peggy had left you behind in favor of exploring a tiny, frozen cave. You knew it was so they would have a moment alone to continue their activities from the Pass; it was harder to do so with King Harrison’s ever-watching eye. 

“Do you see it?” The winds hurtling along the coast have left your lungs burning, and words are nearly stolen as your breath is ripped from you.

“You might have to point it out to me.” James’ admits sheepishly, eyes darting as he surveys the blue, glacial waters below. You step closer to him, careful and slow on the icy rock below, as the two of you are close to the dangerous edge. If the plummet didn’t kill you, the freezing waves crashing against the rocks certainly would. 

With a gloved hand, you point at a darker patch of water, where presumably the ocean floor is deeper than the rest of the bay. James ducks his head, his eyeline following along to where you point. Your gaze is on the side of his face, watching each emotion cross while studying every twitch of his eyebrow or jaw. 

“It’s supposed to look like a woman curled up on her side.” You explain, watching as he tilts his head ever-so-slightly, as if trying to see from a different perspective. James had been insistent on his prior promise of falling in love with the ghost city. Unlike the other guests, who mainly remained in the warmth of Fort Faliene, drinking and laughing their days away, James required endless exploration. 

Sometimes you wondered if it was somewhat of a ploy to get you alone, as even if Steve and Peggy came along as ‘escorts’, the two of you frequently found yourselves abandoned by the pair. Steve and Peggy had more interest in each other's mouths and bodies than the sights of Faliene, unlike James, who remained enraptured by every story and sight you showed him. 

You had toured him through the docks, the city, and the surrounding areas. The people of Faliene watched on with knowing smiles; even Brannigan seemed chuffed by your apparent familiarity with the King of Galanta. From what you gathered, the Falieneans were secretly pleased and were growing to forgive you for your lack of engagement. Why pester you about marrying a lord when you were actively seducing a king? 

“I see it.” James speaks up from beside you, his confused expression melting into a grin. “Her head is facing the east.”

Your eyes flickered over the now familiar planes of his face, watching as he rubbed the stumble across his jaw out of habit. A small smile plays across your face, words leaving you despite your attention being nowhere near the shape of Neume in the waters below. “I know it’s silly, that it’s just the shape of the seafloor, but Falienean’s have always said it looks like Neume sleeping on her side.” 

“You know, everyone always talks about how superstitious the north is, but I think it’s simply that we Southerners are too boring.” He replies, his eyes abruptly cutting to yours. There is a small smirk across his features as he notices your stare, and you look away, cheeks pink, now not only because of the cold. 

“I don’t think you’re boring.” You hum quietly, your words nearly stolen by the next gust of wind as you look to your feet. 

“We definitely are.”

You sucked on your teeth for a moment, tilting your head so you could see him through your peripherals. A smile crosses your face as you realize he’s been watching you the entire time, gloved fingers reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair from your face. You finally pluck up the courage to look back at him. “Tell me a story about Galanta, then. I will be the judge of whether it is boring or not.” 

James lets out a long sigh, looking upwards at the horizon in thought. “They are all stories of war and death, I’m surprised I didn’t die of boredom as a child having to listen to all those tales–”

“You know that I like history.” You cut him off, playfully pushing at his chest. Your cheeks warm up more, realizing that the hard muscle beneath doesn't give under your touch. James chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he looks down at you. “Tell me a story about when you were at war then. Maybe that will be more exciting because you were actually fighting–”

“People who tell their own tales are always bragging.” James grumbles with a hard look, which quickly softens as he catches your pleading look. He shakes his head with a sigh, humming as if in thought. His hands mindlessly come to your cloak, gloved fingers twisting through the fur trimming.

“During the war,” He begins. “Steve and I stumbled upon Prince Micheal in a whorehouse. He was so drunk on ale that he could barely see, let alone walk. The girls were sick of him, so we offered to take him back to camp. The trip was short-lived, though… We grew tired of dealing with him, so we left him passed out in a pig pen. He didn’t return to camp until the next day, it was lunch when he stormed in. He was all covered in filth. He didn’t remember a thing, but he knew Steve and I had something to do with it, we could hardly keep a straight face due to the stench.” 

A laugh bubbles in your chest, and you shake your head at the brunet. Steve had often mentioned how he and James tormented the Prince when they could. Those were tales that Steve would whisper to you over dinner, while Michael bragged and boasted about exaggerated stories further down the table. Though this was not a story you had heard before, you quickly learned that Steve was not as open with you about his secrets as you first assumed – his and Peggy’s affair being just one example. You wondered how many tales from the war were lost to you due to Steve's reluctance to share. This story seemed to have a glaringly obvious reason why.

“You and Steve frequented whorehouses?” You ask innocently, and you hear James suck in a sharp breath, his head tilting to look away guiltily. A teasing smile plays across your lips as you lean closer to him. “The good King James and his knight Sir. Rogers getting their cocks wet? How scandalous.” 

You could imagine the girls in the whorehouses would have loved to be visited by James and Steve – rich, handsome war heroes? They would’ve been snatched away before they even put their foot in the door. You didn’t have envy or malice for the whores, unlike some ladies of court who bickered about the ‘filthy harlots roaming the war fronts’. You imagined James and Steve would’ve been a welcome break from the usual soldiers who would’ve wondered their way. 

Beside you, James swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing, and he looks back at you with surprise in his guarded eyes. You wondered if he had ever heard you speak in such a vulgar way before — Steve definitely had, especially when he schemed and got you a few drinks in. His hands reach out, gripping your waist to tug you even closer to his body, and you oblige with a satisfied sigh. 

“It’s just the way of things during war.” He says, his voice husky and low as he looks down at you. His words hesitate, his tongue wetting his lower lip as he scans your face. “You’re telling me you didn’t bed a knight or two during the war? While you were all alone in Haiford Castle?”

Your smirk spreads. “You think King Harrison would’ve let me stay if he had any inkling that I wasn’t a virgin?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

You allow your eyes to roam over his face as you take your time answering his question. You note the way his pupils have dilated and the subtle strain in his jaw, as if silent worry was clawing behind his cool demeanor. 

“No. I didn’t.” You reply honestly. “You really think I would invite one of your knights into my bed, or even worse, a Haifordian knight?” 

James grins at that, as if secretly pleased by your answer. You could imagine he made assumptions about you, considering your affinity for finding trouble and irritating authority. Even if you often made it your mission to irritate Prince Michael or King Harrison, you had never fallen to the depths of sleeping around with men you despised.

“I must be good then if you’re willing to have me.” He replies, his voice still low and rumbling in his chest.

“And who said you were invited into my bed?” Your eyes flutter upwards as you look at him through your lashes, a coy smile forming in response to his smirk. 

James hums, his hands squeezing tighter as he presses a soft, gentle kiss to one of your exposed collarbones. His grin is cheeky as he raises his head once more, his expression near ravenous as he watches your breath hitch slightly, goosebumps raising across your skin. Everything about his touch and scent is intoxicating, and you nearly forget you are standing on an exposed cliff as you lean heavily into his touch. 

“I am going to speak with King Harrison tonight.”

“About what?” You manage to stutter out. Your mind is hazy and confused as you try to focus on something other than the pattern he is tracing across your ribcage with his thumb.

“Us. Peggy.” James begins, and you stiffen under his touch. “I am going to gift Steve land and make him a lord – maybe a duke or a count. Something high-ranking enough for him to marry Peggy.” 

“I haven’t even agreed to marry you.” You say through narrowed eyes. “Don’t you think this is too early?”

James looks down at you with a frown. “Where else will you go now that the funeral is complete? You can’t return to Haiford… If we settle this issue with King Harrison, you could return to Galanta with me–”

“What if I want to stay here?” You interrupt, and James snaps his mouth shut.

There is a long pause between the two of you, with James sighing slowly through his nose as his grip around your waist eases, his fingers no longer tracing delicate circles.  

“Well…” James begins hesitantly. “Once we are married, you will have to balance your time between Faliene and Galanta, as will I. If you cannot lead Faliene until our marriage, it would be wise that you return to Galanta until the ceremonies–”

“I want to be married in Faliene.” You interrupt once more.

“I thought you said you hadn’t agreed–” He starts with a grin, only for you to cut over him again with a huff.

“Hypothetically. If there were a hypothetical marriage between us, I would want it to be here–”

He is still grinning as he speaks, as if amused. His eyebrows arch as he speaks. “You do realize the Galantaians would riot, right? Robbing them of a wedding celebration–”

“I am only just winning back the trust of my people, they would be insulted if I snubbed them–”

“Well, it is tradition for the wife to be married in the husband's–”

The playful tone that had built through your exchange quickly snaps, and a scowl crosses your face as you take a step back from him. “Please don’t tell me you’re under the assumption that a husband should be the only one in charge simply because he is male–”

“No – Y/N. No.” James gasps, exasperated. His gloved hand raises up, cupping your cheeks as he looks down at you with a frown. “If we are married, Faliene would be run by you and only you. I will sign whatever papers you ask me to, and I will not interfere unless you ask my opinion.”

You blink at him slowly, exhaling sharply out of your nose as you lean into his touch despite the stubborn look across your face. A small part of you is anxious; you have been hesitant and cautious to trust all of your life. What if, like Rumlow, James was trying to fool you into marriage so he could control the seafaring of the continent? 

“Are you telling the truth?” Your voice is quiet, nearly lost to the winds. Thankfully, James doesn’t seem insulted by your wariness.

“Of course I am. I know that if Faliene is to flourish, it can only be under your rule, not mine.” James hums, his thumb gently swiping over the skin of your cheek before he pulls away. “Maybe it is best we leave the talk of weddings until after I deal with King Harrison. Deal?” 

He offers his hand in the small distance between the two of you. You chew on your lip for a moment, nodding your head as the apprehension in your gut eases. You reach out, grasping his forearm near his elbow. The muscle is bulging and swollen in comparison to your small hands. His fingers wrap around your own forearm, engulfing the clothed skin entirely as you both shake hands on this new agreement. 

“Deal.” You mutter back, though you can’t fight back the smile that has formed. 

There is a new feeling growing in your gut. 

Hope.

—

“Does King James always fuck you with his eyes?” Wanda asked from behind you, her nimble hands expertly washing the soap from your hair. Your strands were lazily dangling over the side of the tub, the water trickling off into the bucket below. Your eyes rolled back into your head, a small huff leaving your lips as you leaned harder against the warm metal. 

Once returning from The Fishhook with Steve and Peggy in tow, Wanda managed to sneak you back into your rooms before your presence was requested elsewhere. Tonight there would be one final feast before most of the guests returned home, and it seemed everyone wanted your attention or opinion on the most mundane of subjects. You had been practically assaulted with questions about dining displays and menus, while the Asgardian Princes, Thor and Loki, somehow managed to trick you into showing them the wine cellar. 

As if sensing your rising stress levels, Wanda had pulled you away, declaring she needed to help you bathe and dress for the dinner to follow. 

“You can act all coy, but we’ve all noticed it. Brannigan is biting at the bit to start organizing a wedding.” Wanda continues, and you groan loudly, slipping deeper into the warm water.

“Do not let him organize anything.” You grumble, and the woman chuckles behind you. 

“When you said you knew the Galantian’s well, I didn’t realize it was because you had invited them into your bed–”

“He has not been in my bed.” You protest, sinking even further into the water until it reaches your chin.

“Ah. Matter of time. You can see it on his face that his cock gets hard everytime he looks at you–”

“Wanda.” You cut over her sternly, wrapping your arms across your chest as you turned in the tub to face her with a scowl. The water sloshes around you at your sudden movements, Wanda withdrawing as a small wave departs the tub. “I have already upset King Harrison enough, I can’t upset him more by having rumors spread around.”

“I am sorry.” Wanda sighs, elbows braced against her thighs, as she leans over to look at you. “I am just excited for you.”

You can’t help but let a small smile grace your lips at her words. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, there was always a sincerity and sweetness to Wanda that made you cave. You move forward through the water, your breasts pressed against the metal as you cross your arms over the lip of the tub. 

“I am sorry for keeping secrets… It is just that to keep the peace between Haiford and Galanta, we have to be careful.” You mutter softly. Wanda gives you a sympathetic look, ringing out the damp cloth in her hands. 

“King Harrison is still expecting Princess Peggy to marry King James?” She asks quietly, abandoning the cloth over the lip of the tub. You press your lips together tightly, watching as Wanda fetches you a dry towel. 

“Unfortunately.” You grumble in return, standing. You allow most of the water to cascade off your skin and hair before wrapping yourself in the towel and carefully stepping out of the tub as Wanda readies your dress. 

You quickly dry yourself before the cold sets in, scoffing as Wanda speaks up once more from across the room. “He must be blind if he has not seen the way Princess Peggy and Sir Rogers dance around each other.” 

“I think I may have accidentally helped Peggy by distracting King Harrison.” You admit sheepishly.

Wanda snorts. “He seems to be looking everywhere but at Princess Peggy. Gods, he spends more time enamored with Lord Rumlow than–”

“What do you mean?” You cut over her abruptly.

Wanda arches a brow at you. “King Harrison and Lord Rumlow, they’re always constantly muttering away in the corner, haven’t you noticed?”

“I have.” You say it with a frown. At least you had noticed it more back in Galanta, but these past two weeks between the funeral, James, and organizing, you had barely had time to play spy. It was harder to notice the small things of court when you were now the center of attention rather than a ghost slinking around on the outside of conversation.

“Maybe King Harrison has grown bored of wives – Maeve says that the two of them remain locked up in King Harrison’s rooms most days and nights. She scarcely has time to clean!” Wanda says as she helps you pull on your dress, a thick, dark material with fur trimmings and silver beading around the waist. 

“Does she know what they are doing in there?” You pry cautiously, tugging the sleeves in place and shooing Wanda away as you begin to lace the front. 

“No. They always grow quiet when she knocks, and they send her away. The staff are making bets over what date they’ll announce their affair.”

You don’t reply, instead pondering over this newfound information. Wanda begins muttering about the hairstyle she will craft for you tonight. You are barely listening as you sink into the seat in front of your mother's old vanity. With any hope James’ and King Harrison’s chat goes well tonight, you felt a pit of dread growing in your stomach at the thought of what Rumlow might be scheming.

taglist | @liter4ti @just-someone11 @champagnejoker @scooobies @queerqueenlynn @fanfictionjunkie1112 @themotherof10 @diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @riffstorm

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes series #james bucky barnes #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel #royalty au #medieval au #fantasy au #lady of the ghosts

[onceuponastory]

blackheart - pirate!bucky barnes

Plot: After waking up onboard a pirate ship, Y/N soon becomes acquainted with its crew...and its famously bloodthirsty Captain. Pairing: PirateCaptain!Bucky Barnes x Lady!Reader (if you squint) Warnings: Kidnapping, creepy men being creepy, violence and mentions of death. Minors please be aware. Also, Pirate Captain Bucky, because he’s a warning. As always, if I miss any triggers please let me know! Notes: This was written for @the-slumberparty​’s one word drabble challenge. My word was Blackheart. Google says it means the darkening of plant stems/leaves, but I immediately thought “That’s a cool pirate name.” and ran with it. I did try to make this a drabble, I promise. The idea just got away from me.

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

Leaning back, Y/N softly groans. The side of her head throbs with a dull pain, and she can register a gentle swaying motion lulling her further towards the sleep she just came out of. It’s only as the smell of salt water hits her nostrils, and when she hears a voice she doesn’t recognise saying: “I think she’s waking up.” that she opens her eyes, wincing slightly at the sudden light.

Immediately, she sees a crowd made up of strangers staring down at her. Gasping, she tries to scramble to her feet, but the pain in her head suddenly amplifies, causing her to feel lightheaded. As she collapses to the floor, cruel laughter sounds around her. Despite the fear coursing through her veins, their laughter angers her.

“Who are you? Where am I?” she demands. A man in front of her smirks, making her stomach churn. 

“See for yourself, miss.” He gestures to his side, and as Y/N follows his gaze, her eyes widen. The vast ocean surrounds them, gigantic waves hitting against the side of the boat. Y/N stares out towards the horizon, wondering just how far away from home she is. As she does, she begins to remember what happened before she woke up here. She was walking through town, taking a welcome respite from her life and responsibilities. Unfortunately for her, she lost her way and found herself down a dark alley. The last thing she remembers is two men approaching her. No doubt they’re the ones who brought her here. 

Y/N knows exactly why they chose her. As the only daughter of a noble family, she’s worth a lot, and is a very powerful bargaining tool…dead or alive. Her eyes glance towards the mast, waiting to confirm the suspicion already growing in her gut: that this is a pirate ship. As soon as she registers the pitch black flag atop the mast, Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat. This is no ordinary ship. It’s Blackheart’s ship. He’s known as one of the most bloodthirsty pirates to have ever existed, named after his notoriety for showing no mercy to his prisoners despite their begging. And that undoubtedly means her. Back home, from the safety of her bed, Y/N used to read up on him and all the violence he’s capable of. And now, here she is, her life in jeopardy. Warily, she looks around at the ship’s crew. All of them leer at her, some of them smirking. Her blood chills.

“Return me home at once.” she orders. Again, more laughing. Despite her attempts to seem brave, their laughter strikes fear through her. She glances back out towards the ocean. Maybe if she jumped in, she could swim towards safety? Surely there must be something around here, perhaps a desert island? 

Yet all she can see is the waves, and her heart sinks. No doubt she’d die before ever reaching land…either at the hands of the waves, or by the pirates surrounding her.

“Don’t be scared, miss. We don’t bite.” One of the men laughs, suddenly jumping towards her. Frightened, Y/N jumps back, her false bravado shattered. The laughter intensifies, and she hurriedly scans the crowd, looking for a place to escape. But the men have her surrounded. Slowly, they approach her, and she backs away, holding up her hands defensively. The one closest to her holds out his hand, ready to grab her….

But just before he touches her, the door at the back of the ship, the one leading to the Captain’s quarters, opens. Immediately, Y/N’s heart rate picks up. The crowd in front of her parts, and a voice sounds over them. 

“Gentlemen, please. We must make sure our special guest is welcome.” She lowers her head to avert his gaze, but with each of his footsteps, her heart beats faster and faster, so fast it could break through her rib cage. As their first meeting approaches, Y/N tries to imagine what he’ll be like. Considering his notoriety, she’s imagining a monster, someone scarred by violence and who thrives on fear. No doubt he can smell hers immediately. “Now, now, Lady Y/N. Don’t you know it’s well mannered to look people in the eyes when you first meet them?” He smirks, tutting slightly. 

Cold metal is placed under her chin, no doubt a blade, and the man lifts her head up so she’s making eye contact with him. A pair of icy blue eyes stare back at her, and Y/N gasps. His long brunette hair is tied back in a bun, with some loose tendrils falling down around his face. His jacket and white shirt are mostly open, and she notices chest hair peeking out. Gold chains and rings cover his skin, and she even registers some tattoos on his hands. 

Once again, her breath hitches. This man is attractive, far more than she expected. If he hadn’t kidnapped her, she’d probably kiss him. His eyes trace over her shuddering form, running all the way up her jawline and cheekbones, and he grins. “Oh, don’t be scared, my dear. We don’t want to hurt you. You’re just a pawn in our plan. My men are under strict instructions to keep you safe, and I’ll ensure they follow them.” Yet, with the way he looks at her, Y/N doesn’t know if she believes him. 

“Whatever your plan is, I’ll have no part in it. Return me home at once.” She puts on a brave face, yet she already knows her demands are futile. After all, there’s a reason why he has such a fierce reputation. The man chuckles.

“Sorry darling, I can’t do that. But allow me to introduce myself. I’m Captain Blackheart. Welcome aboard.”

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

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#another fantasy bucky au? shocking i know #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnes #bucky x you #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #pirate!bucky #pirate!bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky oneshot #bucky fic #marvel oneshot #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

[stpwrites]

Art by Chris Yarborough.

Sometimes to save the world, you've got to punch a few dragons…

When the planet is being eaten by interdimensional parasites who literally tear holes in reality, what do you do? If you're Charlie Chase, you dive headfirst into an interdimensional adventure. Charlie knows her calling is a weighty one, but she trusts her mentor’s orders: Travel to another dimension, fix the tear, and get home to do it all over again.

But when she gets stuck on an alternate Earth, she has to turn to the most unexpected of allies: a younger, more eccentric, more infamous version of the brilliant mind that sent her on her mission. This version of Vera Baum is as much socialite as scientist, who seems to embrace the notion that curiosity killed the cat, in the way that means she's determined to use up all nine of her lives blasting through a kaleidoscope of genre-bending realities. Things are going to get a lot worse before they get better, especially when they’re pursued by reality-eating parasites and a biomechanical hound hellbent on killing Vera.

Ladyhoppers by Sarah Thérèse Pelletier and Scott James Taylor, a casually queer, genre-hopping, multiverse-spanning, madcap buddy comedy packed full of flaming zeppelins, coffee shop romances, car chases, dragon punching scientists, and more pirates than you can shake a multi-limbed death machine at, is available for order now!

#the main characters are an ace lady and a lesbian! #they're scientists! #it's for adults because the ace lady says fuck a lot! #there's a canon coffee shop au! #there are loving homages to everything from terry pratchett to the fast and the furious! #for fans of pratchett & pirates & dystopia ya & james bond & fast and the furious & musicals & star wars & star trek & marvel & multiverses #more ladies need to be the buddies in buddy comedies! #ladyhoppers #sarah thérèse pelletier #scott james taylor #science fiction #science fantasy #queer scifi #queer science fiction #asexual science fiction #ace representation #authors #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #authors on tumblr #publishing #books

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Brave [3 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: You manage to earn your day’s water, but also something else—Steve’s attention. 

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

A/N: a little more world-building, some insights into pack culture—and what’s expected of our reader 👀 i hope you all enjoy!

The rabbit’s ears twitch as it lifts its twitching nose to the air. You’re downwind, so it can’t scent you, not unless the wind shifts. It’s been hours of you sitting here, waiting as one by one the rest of the pack peels off, searches for better pickings elsewhere. You don’t, though, remaining still and quiet until you’re the only one left crouching low in the grass.

She lifts her head higher, ears swiveling before she lowers her head back down to the sparse patch of green in a sea of dry brown, her whiskers trembling. Slowly, quietly, you creep forward, pausing each time she does as you get into position. You nock an arrow, sighting it down your pointer finger—the way Steve showed you. 

The thought of him curdles your stomach, and you grimace. What does he care if I live or die? You think snidely, your lips tightening as you draw back the string with a firm, steady hand. You grit your teeth. He thinks you weak—you know the others think so. They speak it freely, and in truth you cannot blame them. Your survival feels like more of a mistake than anything, a cruel twist of luck that had denied you the end you were supposed to meet. You are as unsuited to this life as both the cobbler and the baker’s boy, and yet you breathe while they moulder. 

Don’t miss.

You release the arrow, and much to your surprise, your aim is true. The arrow pins the rabbit, the tip sinking into the dirt behind it. Its back legs twitch, and briefly your stomach turns as you watch the light go out in its frightened black eyes. Unexpected tears gather in your eyes as you wrench the arrow from the rabbit’s still warm flesh, and wipe it on the grass. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, placing a hand on its little head. “Thank you.” 

“To live out here is to take life.” You aren’t surprised by Steve’s voice, nor his presences. You suppose it had been foolish, really, to think you were alone. You wipe furiously at your tears before glaring at him over your shoulder with red-rimmed eyes. “It was an honorable kill.” 

You look down at your hands, and swallow thickly at the sight of dark red blood. 

“I have never killed anything before.” 

The orc sneers. “Then you have led a much more comfortable life than most anyone, man, orc, or beast.” He gestures to the rabbit. “Come. I do not think anyone will contest that you’ve earned your water tonight.” You watch as Steve strings up your kill, tying it to the back of your saddle.

—

 You approach the fire-pit with your rabbit, your jaw clenched nervously as you twist the rope in your hands. The orc female tending the pot is as broad-shouldered and gruff as the males, her blond hair cropped close on the sides, the top long enough to fall across her eyes. She crosses her arms as you approach, a surprised, if wry, smile on her face. 

“Well I’ll be.” She takes it from you, nodding in approval. “Clean kill. I’m impressed. I did not think a thing as dainty as you would be able to draw one of our bows.” You know she doesn’t mean it as an insult, merely an observation. Orcs, in your new estimation, seem to be overly fond of blunt communication, unbothered nuance or delicacy. You had never thought yourself particularly dainty, either; though as you look up at her you realize how small you are indeed. 

“Thank you.” She turns to place your rabbit upon the chopping block she has cleared, and you look away as she begins to clean it. “What… what is your name?” You ask awkwardly, and she glances up at you. 

“Carol.” She unsheathes a heavy looking short blade from her hip, slicing the rabbit from tail to nose. “You’ll make a fine hunter yet, little human,” she complements your work a second time, and you duck your head, your cheeks burning.

“I—I’ve never hunted before.” You admit. “Today was the first time.” 

“Have you not? Perhaps I shall take you next time. Mayhap we can catch bigger than a rabbit.” She winks. Carol does not shoo you away, not even when the other orcs begin lining up with their own, impressive kills. Bucky is last, of course, a small deer strung up on a pole he carries easily by himself over one large shoulder.

“We should make jerky from this one. Salt it and dry the skins between the saddles,” Carol says, slapping its flank. You hope in vain that his slate gray eyes will not fall on you—but you feel their weight even as you busy yourself cleaning foraged carrots, and you hear the sneer in his voice. 

“Making yourself useful?” 

“She killed a rabbit today.” You had not expected Carol’s defense, and when you glance up at her, she stands with her body broadside in front of you, like she’s trying to block you from view. “A good kill, for her first time.” 

Bucky scoffs. “Every one of us had a doe skinned and parted out before we were even weaned.” He sneers at you, the tusks poking out from his lower lip glinting menacingly. “But I suppose if you were an orc youngling, you might be blooded for it.” 

Carol rolls her eyes.

“I just want to earn my water.” You say, meeting his gaze as you jut out your chin. “That’s all.” Bucky says nothing. He glances down at your rabbit, and then back up at you. 

“It’s a good kill.” You swallow—that is probably the closes to a compliment that he’s apt to come. He turns on his heel and walks away, dirt crunching under his boots. 

When Carol serves out the stew that night, you get a bowl—instead of the scraps you’d been allowed to take from the pot in the nights before, and your stomach groans audibly at the privilege of being full. For the first time, you find a—small—place by the fire that no one seems to mind you taking. In your bowl, you find almost an entire leg of rabbit. You look up, expecting to find Carol’s knowing gaze, but instead, your eyes connect with cool blue across the fire. 

You look down quickly, pretending to ignore the weight of his eye as you bring a spoonful of stew to your lips.

“I beg your attention, brothers, sisters, people,” Steve’s voice carries across the fire-pit like a clap of thunder. The response is immediate, a curtain total silence dropping. Though there is no king among them, you think Steve might be the closest comparable thing. 

“The day after tomorrow we ride for Tarrath. You know what this means; we will not stop. Not for rest, not for water.” You swallow the uncomfortable feeling that this speech is partially for your benefit. His bright blue eyes rest on yours. “Do not fall behind.” 

Carol sits heavily on the log beside you, a bowl held in her large hands. It provides a welcome distraction, and you drop his gaze, turning to look at her. 

“Eat up, little human,” she replies, gesturing at you with a spoon. “You will need your strength.” You bite into the rabbit, a mixture of gravy and grease running down your chin as she nods at you.

“Tomorrow, we hunt.” 

to be continued

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