Birthday Wishes || Stucky X GN!reader

I love having badass readers

I wanna req a badass shield agent reader who gets paired up with bucky post cw but all avengers live together in the compound and at first he is grumpy bec blergh I gotta protect her and argh but then he gets impressed and is SO smitten etc

Changed it up a little and the reader was ex hydra before joining the avengers. I hope you enjoy it xx

Babysitting Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, violence, killing, gunshot wounds WC: 2.1k

main masterlist || bucky masterlist

“I’m not a fucking babysitter, Steve.”

You could hear the bitterness and hatred that filled Bucky’s voice even through the thick wall of Steve’s office. It didn’t come as a surprise since most people underestimated you but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. You thought being a part of the Avengers would be like one happy family but clearly that was not the case.

“I’m not asking you to be a babysitter.” Steve sighed. “She’s your partner, you back each other up, just like we used to.”

“That was different, I knew you.” Bucky argued.

“Then get to know her, Buck, she’s on your floor so you’re going to cross paths eventually.”

“Not if I can help it.”

The door was torn open and you heard the crunch of the handle breaking the drywall before Bucky filled the doorway, surprise crossing his face for a split second before it returned to scarcely controlled rage. You refused to move from where you stood and he had to turn sideways as he passed you or knock you down, the small decision giving you a slither of hope that he wasn’t always an asshole.

“Sorry you had to hear that.” Steve sighed as he saw you standing there. “And sorry for Bucky, he’s still adjusting to 21st century living.”

“Don’t apologise for other people.” You stated as you walked into his office and took a seat. “Any issue they have is on them.”

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with the mission.”

“It never has.” You reassured him but his eyebrow quirked up at the answer.

“This happen often?”

“With alpha males.” You nodded.

“How do you usually get past it?”

“Prove myself.”

He slid a manila folder across the table and you opened it to find a briefing. You scanned over the document and closed it back up. It was a simple extraction for a scientist who was defecting from a suspected Hydra operation. “When do we start?”

“He’s ready and waiting. I was about to head out but it looks like you and Bucky can handle it together.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” You said to Bucky after sitting in silence for most of the flight. “I am quite capable of taking care of myself.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” He muttered unconvinced as he cast his eyes over you. “At least they gave you an easy mission.”

You scoffed and turned back to the front of the jet, turning off autopilot so you had something to do other than listen to his bullshit. “We both know how much Hydra hates to lose their assets, if you think this will be easy then you need a psych assessment pal.”

“Don’t call me pal.” He growled as he unbuckled his belt and rose over you. “And, you don’t know shit about Hydra.”

He disappeared into the lower deck before you could reply and the scars on your chest began to itch at the reminder of what Hydra did to you. You had thought out of everyone at the compound that he would be the most accepting of you given his past but he clearly did not care.

“We are approaching the target.” You called out as you prepped the jet to land.

You could already see that there were more people than just the target in the building, the heat signatures registering on the screen Friday projected. Bucky had rejoined you and was leaning against your headrest as he counted the bodies and pointed to one on the right.

“You take that one and we will meet on the northside after I grab the package.” He said before turning away and filling the vest he wore with an array of knives. “If you can handle him.”

You rolled your eyes at his attitude and looked over the image again so you knew where everyone was and then the jet touched down silently with the reflective shields in place. You already had everything you needed on you so the moment the doors opened you took off towards the building. Bucky was shocked at your speed but he soon caught up, confusion and surprise on his face as you pushed ahead and kicked the door to the warehouse in.

“Keep up old man.” You fired at him before you spotted the first Hydra soldier.

You spun away as he fired his weapon and ducked behind a pillar until you heard the click of an empty chamber. You closed the distance as he tried to reload but he wasn’t quick enough, his screams choked off as you caught him by the throat and smashed him into the concrete floor. Another two soldiers rounded the corner and you picked up their fallen comrade to take the bullets aimed for you and you wondered briefly where Bucky had ended up.

A streak of metal flew past your face and for a second you thought he was aiming at you, your head whipping around to see Bucky throwing a second knife into the remaining soldier. Dropping the body, you growled as you saw his knives buried in their foreheads. “I had them.”

“Sure you did, doll.” He smirked before taking off further into the building. “Stay there.”

You laughed at the audacity and raced to catch up to him, the fight soon becoming a competition. You hit the jackpot when you reached what must have become the soldiers' mess hall as there were four sitting ducks for you to take care of. A bullet grazed your arm and you hissed at the sting before taking extra pleasure in ending him, your fingers crushing his throat until you felt the bones break.

The building was getting quieter, the less soldiers left alive, and you listened closely for the sounds of fighting and followed it to find Bucky. He was going hand to hand with three men but you saw a fourth entering from another door, gun raised for the shot. You didn’t even think, you ran across the room as the man looked down the scope and you heard the bang of the rifle before you felt the bullet hit your chest. Your body crashed back into Bucky and you groaned as pain radiated your chest as he caught you.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” He growled as he held you with one arm and pulled a gun from behind his back, disposing of the last two men.

“Who's the babysitter now?” You chuckled with a groan as blood began to seep over your fingers.

“Friday, I need a medevac.” Bucky ignored you as he spoke into the comms, laying you on the ground, tossing his vest aside and tearing his shirt open to use as a bandage.

“Don’t bother.” You said as you moved your hand for him to put pressure on the wound. “It won’t kill me.”

He looked at the tear in your skin where blood was oozing out, right over your heart. “You should be dead.”

“That would make your day wouldn’t it.” You snorted before whimpering in pain.

He winced at the agony in your tone and he felt guilty for being an asshole to you since you joined. He never liked working with women, not because he thought they couldn’t be agents but because at the end of the day he was raised in a time where men were the providers and protectors, it was something he still clung to.

“I don’t want you dead, y/n. I didn’t want you out here getting hurt.” He admitted as he held the material over your wound. “How?”

“You didn’t read my file did you.” He shook his head ruefully and you tapped your knuckles against your chest, hearing the hard thud of the metal that had been laid beneath your skin. “I was Hydra’s human shield, gold titanium alloy. You didn’t think you were the first to escape their control?”

The bleeding was already slowing down as the serum they had given you sped up the healing process and you brushed aside his hand so he could see the skin knitting itself back together. In a few days it would be a scar just the rest that littered your chest as you took the body shots meant for other people.

Bucky’s eyebrows were furrowed and deep lines set in his forehead as he saw just how many bullets you had taken, he felt terrible for being the reason another one marred your beautiful skin. He also knew that the shot would have certainly killed him, the calibre of the bullet more than the thin vest he wore could have stopped. Helping you to your feet, he wrapped his arm around your waist and took your weight. “Thanks, doll. I owe you one.”

“Anytime.” You said with a small smile, glad that the machismo had eased and something had shifted. “So do you trust me?”

He gave a small nod that sent your smile widening. “I’m not about to give you my bank account number but there’s not many people who would take a bullet for me.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t recommend it. Just because it won’t kill me doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like a bitch.” You chuckled and stopped as a man came out of hiding with a gun to the package's head.

“Don’t move or I will kill him.” The soldier threatened as he dug the gun further into the scientist's head until he cried out with pain. “Don’t fucking move.”

“Do you want the honours or can I?” You asked under your breath, knowing his enhanced hearing was superior to yours.

The question would have been surely cut down even five minutes ago but now you saw the corner of his lips tip up. “All yours, doll.”

Your fingers were already hanging at your side and it was simple to reach the handle of the kunai, sliding it out of its sheath before you flicked your wrist faster than he could see. The dagger hurtled through the air but before the man could react and pull the trigger, the knife sliced through his finger and wedged between the trigger and the gun so it couldn’t be squeezed.

“Any other surprises I should know about?” Bucky asked as you both walked over to the soldier still trying to shoot his gun.

You kicked it far from his reach and checked the scientist was physically alright before you winked at your partner. “You should’ve read the file, Barnes.”

“I’m sure there’s something that's not in it.” He countered, grabbing the soldier and using his own cuffs to restrain him to a pillar for the authorities to deal with. “Give me something.”

“Chocolate, roses and red wine.”

“Yeah?” He smirked to himself. “Okay.”

“What’s the basket for?” Steve asked as he stepped out onto your floor and saw it sitting in the middle of the kitchen island.

“I dunno, it was there when I woke up.” You shrugged as you continued to eat your breakfast and Steve wandered over to look at the tag hanging from the bow.

“It’s for you.” He said with a tight lipped smile and you frowned as you placed your bowl in the sink and took a look for yourself.

Sure enough, your name was written but it had no name under the sender so you tugged on the bow and let the wrapping fall away. You knew exactly who it was from when you found the inside of the basket full of boutique chocolates and a few small bottles of various red wines. Steve was completely thrown as he watched your smile grow as you picked up the card inside, I didn’t forget. The elevator opened again and you both turned to find Bucky stepping out, a huge bouquet of roses and the look of someone caught red handed.

“Steve, uh, what are you doing here?” Bucky froze, the doors starting to close on him before he jumped out of the way.

“I was looking for you, but I’ll come back later.” He said as he tried to hide his smile and walked past Bucky with a pat on the shoulder and whisper of encouragement.

“This is a 180 compared to yesterday morning.” You teased as you pulled out a chocolate and popped it in your mouth.

“I have a lot to apologise for.” He said as he held out the roses, the floral scent sweetening the room. “I was a bit of an asshole.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement.” You laughed as you took them from his hand, touching the soft petals with your nose. “But this is a very good start.”

He looked at your chest, the wound almost completely healed but bruising still spread across your skin. “How about dinner?”

“And a movie.” You bartered.

“It’s a date.”

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Heeey i wanted to ask you if you could maybe do a Muslim male reader where maybe like they are on a case and hitch tells him to go talk with the victims family and they are like we are not gonna talk to a ter**orist and like the BAU team defending him and like comforting him (if you don’t feel comfortable writing about it don’t feel pressured please)

I am so sorry if this isn't good. I tried to make it as fluffy as possible. Please let me know if I did something wrong! Edited by @mystic-writes

"Mr. And Mrs. Hawthorne?" you ask as the door opens in front of you.

"Who're you?" Mr. Hawthorne asks, glaring at you.

You take out your badge and say, "My name is Agent [L/N]. I'm with the FBI. I'm here to ask you a few questions."

"The FBI is hiring terrorists now?" he asks and you freeze. "I don't want you here to blow up my house!"

He slams the door in your face, and you sigh. You pull out your phone and call Hotch, and after two rings he picks up.

"[L/N]," he says over the phone. "What did you find out?"

"They won't let me talk to them. Says I'm a terrorist and I'm going to blow up their house. Can you send Rossi over? Maybe he can help?" you ask and you hear a sigh on the other end of the line.

"Yeah. Sure. I'll send Prentiss as well," he says, and you nod though he can't see you. "Do you want to come back to the station?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. It would just be nice to have some backup," you say, before saying goodbye to Hotch, and hanging up. You lean against the car you were given, a big black SUV, and you cross your arms over your chest, watching the house. After five minutes you see Mrs. Hawthorne peeking out the window every couple of seconds, staring right at you before hiding again, like she just got caught.

Finally, after only a couple more minutes, another black SUV pulls up and Rossi and Emily get out, walking over to you.

"We heard what happened," Rossi says, and Emily nods, walking over to you.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" she asks, and you nod.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You should just take the lead," you say, and Emily and Rossi both nod, and start walking towards the house.

–

"Hello, Mr. Hawthorne. It's good to see you again," you say as you sit down in front of him, placing a file on the metal table in the interrogation room.

"You can't hold me! I know my rights!" he yells, pulling against the handcuffs holding him to the table.

You shake your head. "You assaulted a federal officer and threatened to shoot me. You're already going to jail for who knows how long, so how about you tell me what I want and we can make a deal."

"I won't negotiate with terrorists!" he exclaims, jumping towards you, but the handcuffs keep him latched to the table.

You jump out of your seat and run out of the room, your breath coming in short gasps as you say, "I'm sorry. I can't do this."

You sit down on one of the chairs outside the interrogation room and put your head in your hands, hyperventilating, when you feel hands on your shoulders.

"Breathe. I need you to breathe for me," you hear JJ say.

You start taking deep breaths in when you feel more hands on you. Looking up, you see Spencer sitting next to you on the other side and you lean into him, breathing deeply as JJ rubs her hand up and down your back.

You see Emily and Rossi walk up, the former with a cup of something and the latter with a plastic bag of crackers, and Derek trailing behind, a sheepish smile on his face. You smile as your breathing starts to even and you reach out, taking what seems to be water from Emily and the crackers form Rossi, downing the cup in three gulps and stuffing a cracker into your mouth. You sigh through your nose as you chew, and watch as Hotch walks over, kneeling down in front of you.

"Are you okay?" he asks and you nod. "I had some words with Mr. Hawthorne. He has now assaulted two Federal Agents, which doesn't look good for him." You frown and Hotch rolls up his pant leg, revealing a bright red splotch on his shin that's probably going to turn into a bruise tomorrow. "Even if he isn't the unsub, we've been able to unearth some… disgusting things from this man's past, with help from Garcia."

You nod and smile, taking his hand as you swallow your cracker. "Thank you, Hotch," you say, before looking at all the faces around you, affectionately. "Thank you, all of you. I really appreciate it."

They all nod.

"Now, I would like to get back to this case and catch this bastard," you say and they all grin. "Also, it's not Mr. Hawthorne."

"How do you know?" Derek asks, massaging his knuckles. He probably punched Mr. Hawthorne and you're not sorry about that.

You smile. "Mr. Hawthorne is a racist, white supremacist. He would never kill white people."

They all nod, and JJ helps you up, and you all get back to work.

diamonds & pearls // anthony bridgerton x reader

summary: diamonds and pearls do not make up for the lack of love in your marriage

warnings: typical misogyny and sexism, anthony being kind of a dick. guilt ridden anthony, mentions of cheating, kinda angsty

masterlist

you knew exactly what your duty was as a woman. you completely understood that you needed to marry well and provide and heir. so when your father had arranged for you to marry the viscount bridgerton, you were more than willing.

yes, you were marrying a man you didn't really know, however, you could have been worse off. the bridgerton name was good and respectful. you had adored his family and they you. and the viscount himself was young and handsome. you very well could have done worse. and he was a kind man. you knew you could grow to love him.

or so you thought.

the viscount proved to make that task very difficult. he seldom left his office long enough to spend a significant amount of time with you. and when he did seem to have the time to spare, he didn't spend it with you. when he wasn't in his office, and not in the parlor spending time with his family, he was at the gentleman's club. and when he'd return, reeking of perfume, he'd set down a box on your nightstand and leave your chambers.

you were afraid to think of what the jewelry meant. and you were afraid to ask him. so instead, you'd walk downstairs wearing your new necklace or your new bracelet or new brooch and avoid the conversation entirely. greeting your husband in the drawing room during afternoon tea after spending the morning running your errands or maintaining the home while your husband was locked away in his study. everyone in the home knew exactly how your marriage with the viscount was. violet sighed every time she watched anthony walk out the door in the evenings while you sat alone in the drawing room. benedict and colin could hear him stumbling in half drunk. eloise noticing on the nights he stayed out particularly late, some new shiny thing found it's way into your jewelry box. francesca noticed that much unlike her parents, you two did not share a room. but luckily, the youngest children were none the wiser.

overtime, you grew more and more lonely. frequently finding yourself attempting to distract yourself with anything you could possibly think of. first, it was embroidery. it was one of the things you hadn't quite mastered. so you sat in the drawing room with lady bridgerton, her happy as ever to have someone to teach her embroidery skills to now that daphne had gone and eloise being far too disinterested in such things. you'd perfect your pianoforte skills. you'd read every book in the bridgerton library. and now, here you were, in the kitchens with the staff, spreading flour across the table and plopping dough atop it.

"my lady, you needn't do this. we have cooks." your lady maid pleaded.

"i know that. but a lady must have something to occupy her mind, should she not?"

she just sighs and allows you to continue kneading the dough in front of you. she was well aware what you were doing. everyone was. but they allowed you these freedoms in attempt to grant you some kind of mercy.

as you shaped the dough, you could hear lady bridgerton arguing with anthony as they both stomped down towards the kitchens.

"she is a lovely woman and i'm sure if you were to pull your head out of your-"

"mother! i will not have you telling me how to run my marriage."

"anthony, the fact that you think a marriage is something to run is not only heartbreaking, but disappointing." lady bridgerton says as they reach the bottom of the steps and emerge from the doorway into the kitchens.

you cleared your throat and they both turn to look at you.

"m-my lord, lady bridgerton." you stutter softly, bowing to your husband and mother in law.

"what're you doing?" anthony asks, looking down at your dirty hands.

"oh! um...baking. i've....taken up baking. bread. baking bread." you nod awkwardly.

"we have chefs for that."

"yes but i...i've always wanted to learn. and i've mastered my embroidery and the pianoforte. so i thought baking might be- i'm sorry. it's very improper of-"

"not at all, darling. i think it's wonderful." lady brigerton smiles, interrupting your nervous ramble.

"thank you" you smile, your shoulders relaxing slightly before you turn back to your shaped loaf.

lady brigerton makes her way back up the stairs and anthony attempted to follow, but his mother quickly pushed him back silently scolding her son. he steps back into the doorway, staring at his wife.

"how is it going? the baking?" anthony asks after awkwardly clearing his throat.

"well, i think." you nod, a tight smile on your lips as you glance up at him briefly before you turn your attention back to the dough you were placing into the pan.

you hand the pan to the chef to place in the oven and you walk over to anthony, pausing in front of him. you look up at him and his eyes catch yours, and for a moment you catch a glimpse of the love you could have had.

"y-yes?"

"the water basin, my lord. it's behind you."

"oh!" he exclaims, moving aside and watching as you washed off your hands.

he watches as you dry off your hands and is caught off guard by a sparkle on your ear.

"your new earrings suit you."

you pause momentarily before you hang the towel on the edge of the basin.

"thank you, my lord."

"you know, you don't need to call me-"

"yes i do." you quickly interrupt.

anthony's mouth stays agape fro a moment before he recomposes himself.

"i only mean that i am your husband and-"

"are you? i would've been none the wiser."

you walk past anthony as he stands there, taking in what you'd just said to him.

the rest of the day neither of you had attempted to talk about what was said. and as per usual, he'd gone out that night, and in the morning, a box was placed on your nightstand. you'd stared at the box the entire time you'd spent getting ready and there you were now, standing in front of it.

"my lady? is everything alright?" your maid asks.

you just nod your head, grabbing the box and opening it to see a small golden chain, a single pink pearl dangling off of it. the same pink pearl that matched the earrings you were wearing the day before. you slam the box shut and walk out of your chambers towards the dining room where breakfast had most likely already begun.

normally you'd never do something so bold, but you'd grown tired of this routine of his. of this routine that had now become your life. if your husband didn't want to speak to you or love you, that was fine. but you wouldn't accept these lukewarm apologies any longer.

you'd walked into the dining room and before anyone could say good morning, you'd placed the box beside anthony's plate, not even bothering to meet his eyes. and you'd taken your seat next to him, not bothering to look at anyone as they all stared at you and anthony and the box you'd returned to him. as you adjusted the napkin on your lap, and the chef placed a plate of food in front of you, you let out a quick breath.

"good morning." you smile, nodding your head at the family, who still sat staring at you and your husband.

"y/n-"

"oh, forgive me my lord, i've forgotten to mention that my dear friend lady amelia has requested to visit for tea. would that be alright?"

anthony just stares at you for a moment. you'd always accepted his gifts. it was his attempt at an apology, and wearing his gifts was your sign of forgiveness.

"yes, of course. this is...your home too."

"thank you" you smile, turning back to your food.

"sleep well, y/n?" benedict asks.

"wonderful, and you?" you smile.

"great. and this bread is beautiful. well done." he smiles.

"thank you, benedict. kind of you to say."

"seems she married the wrong brother." eloise mumbles, and violet gasps while colin kicks her underneath the table.

anthony's face turns red and he quickly excuses himself to his study, taking the box with him. you pause for a moment, but recompose yourself and continue on with breakfast.

these encounters went on for the next week or so. a box would find itself on your dresser, and you'd place it beside anthony's plate in the morning at breakfast, or on his desk in his study, or even sometimes the box would find itself on his dresser. after the 10th day of this, anthony had had enough.

he barged into the parlor where you were sitting with lady bridgerton, working on an embroidery.

"is there something wrong?" anthony asks, his breathing slightly erratic as he waves the box around in his hand.

everyone in the parlor pauses, looking at their agitated brother. violet was quick to usher the siblings out of the parlor to give the couple a moment of privacy.

"something wrong?" you scoff, shaking your head.

"yes, y/n. something wrong. everything was fine-"

"fine!? my lord, you never spared me a second glance. you spend all day in your study and all night somewhere else. and when you come home smelling like another woman-"

"i have never done such a thing. i am a man of honor and i honor the vow i made to you."

"ha! the same vows that claim you will love and cherish me? i am just short of being a stranger to you! a pair of earrings cannot excuse your absence. gold necklaces will never replace the loneliness i feel everyday in this house. diamonds and pearls do not make up for the lack of love in this marriage. and i've grown tired of pretending that they can." you cry, your emotions getting the best of you as tears begin streaming down your face.

anthony stood in front of you, feeling frozen and unsure of what to do as your breath hiccuped.

"i'm sorry." he breathes out.

you shake your head, quickly wiping the tears away.

"no, i'm sorry. you provide for me and that's all that should be expected of you." you begin walking out and anthony grabs your arm.

you look up at him and he scans your face. he thought you were beautiful even when you cried. he lets out a small sigh and his chest tightens at your confession. he hadn't truly realized how much his actions had affected you. he hadn't wanted to marry, and he hadn't wanted to fall in love. but he couldn't stand being cruel to you. regardless of anything else, you were kind and you were good. you deserved better than what he'd been doing. he pulls his handkerchief out and dabs your cheeks softly with his right hand, and holds you face gently with his left.

"i'm sorry. i'm going to do better. be better. if you'll let me."

you began to fill with hope. hope that he was telling the truth. and as you melted into his soft brown eyes, you knew that you were done for. even if he didn't fulfill his part, the thought had become enough. and you knew you'd forgive him over and over again.

"okay."

***

the next morning you'd awoken half expecting a box on your bedside table, but instead, a flower. you smiled as you twirled the flower between your fingers. you'd stared at it the entire time you'd gotten ready and you shook you head at your foolish joy over a single flower.

it began with little things. for example, one morning, you'd made it to the table before anthony had during breakfast. everyone had said their good mornings and as you looked down to place the napkin on your lap, you felt a pair of lips hit your cheek.

you jumped at the contact and looked over at your husband who was smiling at you.

"good morning, darling."

your cheeks reddened and you couldn't contain your smile.

"good morning"

then it graduated to afternoons he'd taken off spent on a picnic or on a promenade with his family. to trips away to aubrey hall together. eventually, he'd asked you to stay in his chambers, and you did.

and here you were, laying beside him, your bare shoulders exposed to the cold breeze coming in from the open window. his finger tracing the outline of your body as he nudged your nose with his own.

"we're expected for breakfast soon." you smile, and he shakes his head.

"they can wait. i'd like to spend some more time with my beautiful wife on this fine morning." he smiles, grabbing your waist and pulling you him closer.

"you know, there was a time when my idiot husband didn't spend any time with his beautiful wife." you teased before bringing him into a kiss.

"truly, a fool." he smiled.

"a fool feels too kind of a title."

he laughs before flipping you over so that he was hovering above you.

"your idiot husband promises to never let a day go by without letting you know just how much he loves you." he says softly against your lips.

you smile as he leans down and presses a soft kiss on your lips.

"well, my idiot husband should know that i'll love him even if he forgets one day."

"he never will."

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@luvr-bunnyy @inas-thing @glowstick-lesbian @anothersworld @fuck-goes-on @mrbillymontgomery

To Love the Enemy

Imagine catching the eye of Klaus Mikaelson.

Tagging: @midnightseance​ Author’s Note: So I finally convinced my sister to watch TVD and I’ve been rewatching some episodes with her- specifically the episodes that had the best Klaroline and some of the saddest scenes. This idea spawned from the reawakening of my intense dislike for vampire!Elena. Whoops. Sorry Elena lovers, I don’t think this one will be for you. It’s not total Elena bashing, but I’m not exactly her biggest fan. Warning: Don’t pay too close attention to the order some events are mentioned. I forgot some things and what not. Lmao. 

Keep reading

Coffee and Bagel.

Word Count: 2.5k

Category: Angst-ish, fluff

Warning: curse words

Summary: Overprotective!Chris and pregnant!actress!reader get swarmed by paps and Chris loses his shit when reader almost trips.

Follow the couple's life here.

..

You loved going on short walks ever since you became pregnant.

The swelling of your feet was always very frequent, and it was why you didn’t favor walking and standing on them for too long, especially since the big bump you carried around not only strained your ankles, but your back as well.

“I can’t remember the last time I had coffee,” you said, fixing the big t-shirt you were wearing that rightfully so belonged to Chris, but since your marriage, what was his was yours, and what was yours, was yours. 

“You deserve that treat,” Chris said from his place on the floor, tying your shoe laces.

You hummed, one hand on his shoulder to keep yourself steady, “You know, I’m so ready for the baby to be here,” you said, “Need my caffeine so bad.”

Chris chuckled as he stood up, “I think it’s not just caffeine you need,” he said, “I think–I think you miss having good back days.”

You groaned, “God, yes,” you cradled your bump, “And not having you scolding me for, I don’t know, going up a step or something,” you giggled, teasing your husband who rolled his eyes at you with a smirk.

“You do dangerous shit, Y/N,” he reasoned, “You do!” He confirmed when you laughed, “Like–Come on, stepping on a chair to get turmeric from the shelf?”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“Wait for me,” he pointed at himself, “Why else am I here?”

You gasped dramatically, “Oh-Oh, so you’re just here to bring down stuff now? Never mind the woman that you got pregnant, never mind her feelings. Never mind that she needs some loving on, some affec-”

“Stop, stop,” Chris laughed, wrapping his arms around you before he pecked your lips a couple of times, causing you to giggle, “And I’m here to love on you,” he said, “Also I wasn’t the only one who got you pregnant. If I–If I remember correctly, we were both o-”

“We’re not going to talk about it,” you shook your head, “Absolutely not.”

He laughed before pressing his lips against yours, “Ready to go?”

You hummed, fixing your hair, “Let’s go before you decide I need to be on bed rest or something.”

“Actually–”

“No,” you put your hand on his mouth, “No.”

With your statuses, you and Chris almost always expected paparazzi taking your pictures and trying to get any answers and statements out of you. 

With your fingers intertwined with Chris’s, you walked on the sidewalk, only 5 shops away from your coffee place, and already, 3 men were in front of you, walking backward so they could film you and your husband.

“We should’ve brought the car,” Chris said quietly, his hold tight on your hand, and his body stiff as if he was getting ready to attack at any given moment.

“I miss walking to get my coffee,” you told him, fixing your sunglasses on your face, “Are you okay?”

Chris smiled softly, removing his hand from yours so he could wrap his arm around your shoulder, “I am. Are you?”

You nodded, keeping your face down from the paparazzi.

“Y/N, Chris, do you know the gender of the baby?”

“Y/N, you’re looking big!”

“How far along are you?”

“Are we going to see you on the big screen again soon?”

“Y/N, how do you feel about Chris’s new projects?”

You took a breath, concealing yourself against Chris before he stepped a little to the side, finally opening the door to the coffee place and letting you get in before him.

The soft mummers could be heard, and you could always feel when the phones were out, “discreetly” taking pictures of you and your husband. 

Chris’s hands were on your shoulders from behind as the both of you walked to the familiar cashier you had befriended two years ago from how frequently you and Chris got coffee and bagels from that place.

“Hey, Omar,” you beamed at the 20-year-old boy.

“Hey, man,” Chris also greeted with a smile, “How’s it going?”

“Hey, you two!” Omar grinned, “These assholes giving you a hard time out there?” He nodded his head towards the door at the paparazzi.

Chris sucked in a breath, “When are they not?”

You glanced behind you at the door before your eyes widened, “Fucking hell, they got more.”

Omar shook his head, “We’ll help you get back to the car, no worries.”

“We walked,” you said with a small chuckle, “Bad idea.”

“Oh shit,” Omar made a face, “You can Uber though.”

“That’s a good idea,” Chris agreed, “What do you think, honey?”

You shrugged before letting out a huff, “I just want my coffee and bagel.”

Both chuckled, before Omar spoke, “The usual?”

You and Chris nodded as you leaned back against Chris while putting your hands under your bump to support it. 

Chris paid, leaving a generous tip for Omar and his other colleague, Mona, before the both of you moved to the side, him pulling out a stool for you to sit on before he stood beside you.

He glanced back at the door, a sigh leaving his lips as his eyebrows furrowed in exasperation. Your hands moved to clutch his t-shirt from the sides, making him look at you, “We can get an Uber,” you told him, sensing his anxiety.

“I wanted you to walk like you wanted,” he said, looking at you in defeat with a tilt of his head.

You shook your head slightly, “It’s okay. Just another LA day,” you said, “I’ll walk as much as I want when we go to Boston after your press is done,” you assured him as you looked up ay him, “Loosen up, will you? We’re fine.”

Chris only sighed, wrapping his arms around you to bring you in a hug, his lips pressing a kiss to your head. He pulled away, his hand instantly finding your baby bump, bringing a smile to his face, “Hey, bubba,” he cooed, softly rubbing your bump.

You smiled, one of your hands reaching up 

to softly graze his arm as you looked down at your 7-month bump.

“Hollywood!” The barista called out the name that she and Omar had created for you and Chris, sliding your drinks before giving you your cream cheese and salmon bagel.

“Thanks, Mona,” you smiled at the hijabi, taking your order from her.

“Any time, Hollywood. You have a good day,” she waved at you with a beam.

“You, too,” Chris smiled at her before she went back to her job, “Do you want to drink here or do you want us to leave?”

“Let’s just leave,” you said, wiggling your butt to get off of the stool before Chris was quick to hold on your waist, a worrying frown between his eyebrows as he helped you down. You let out a breath, “Even getting off a stool is a huge deal.”

Chris only chuckled, watching you take your bagel out of the wrap to take a bite, “Oh shit, the Uber,” he muttered, taking his phone out to request a car, “Come on, let’s sit you back down.”

“No no, I’m fine,” you assured him with a shake of your head, opting to lean on the chair a little.

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, don’t worry.”

Chris thought that the universe was working in his favor because the moment he requested an Uber, it was only 2 minutes away.

He raised his eyebrows, “Two minutes.”

You hummed as you chewed, nodding at your husband as you stood straight before swallowing, “What’s the car?”

“It’s,” Chris smirked, tilting his head at you, “It’s a Honda Civic.”

With being the highest paid actress in the industry, with brand deals, and high-grossing movies, no amount of money could have ever made you let go of your hatchback 2008 black Honda Civic. Sure, that beat-up baby remained parked at your other house, but you clung to it like it was a child.

That explained the way your face beamed, making Chris burst out laughing, wrinkles by his eyes as he threw his head back a little.

“Don’t shit me,” you grinned excitedly.

“I’m not, baby, I’m not,” he laughed, showing you his phone.

You giggled, “It’s like—It’s like finding a missing sibling.”

At that, Chris laughed again, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to bring you closer to him, his hand stroking your head softly for a moment, “You’re actually crazy, you know that?”

“It’s a good car,” you reasoned, pulling away to look at him, “It’s super comfortable, and it’s—it’s, like, spacious but also compact. It’s just so perfect.”

“You’re a dinosaur for still having that car.”

“Says the person who had an iPhone 6 in 2022,” you replied back, teasing him with a raised eyebrow.

“It was a 6S,” he raised a finger, giving you a look as he put one hand on his hip.

“Oh, I’m sorry, so you’re not that much of a fossil, right,” you nodded jokingly, laughing when he poked your side.

“He’s here,” Chris announced, looking at his phone, “Here, let me take your bagel,” he offered.

You frowned, moving the bagel away, “But I want to eat it.”

“While we’re walking?”

“Yeah?”

“Okay,” he chuckled, rubbing your bump, “I’d rather not piss you off.”

“Good boy,” you teased, leaning to peck his lips after you had stood straight.

Chris linked your arms together, his smile falling from his face at the sight of the paparazzi who seemed to triple outside.

“Don’t let go, okay?” He asked.

“Do you need help?” Mona asked, “I can get Omar to help,” she said, pointing at her colleague.

“That’d be—That would be great actually,” Chris replied.

Omar and Mona were quick to switch, with the former hurrying towards you, “Let’s go, Hollywood,” he said as he pulled the door open, reaching his arms out, “Get back! Get back! Get back—Habibi, you’ll hurt someone like that, lak ya Allah!” (Love, you’ll hurt someone like that, oh my God!)

Omar, a bearded, tall 20-year-old wasn’t enough to handle the invasive men with cameras, and even though you kept your head low, and Chris had his other arm in front of you, you felt like you were close to crying and you probably had the pregnancy hormones to blame.

“Y/N! Chris! Is it true you’re getting a divorce?!”

“What are you going to name your baby?!”

“Chris, is it true you cheated on Y/N with Ana de Armas?!”

It was when Chris felt your body halt and turn that he quickly looked at you, noticing one man getting too close in your face.

“Can you take a step back, please?” You had respectfully asked, blocking your face with your arm.

“Hey! Hey, get the fuck back, man, get back,” Chris frowned, putting his arm between you and the man.

“I just want a shot, come on,” the man replied.

“I don’t care about your shot, get away from her,” Chris instantly replied back, his tone stern and getting louder, the veins in his neck looking prominent. 

It was what happened next that seemed to happen in a blur that had your heart dropping to your stomach.

You took two steps forward with Chris, and the next thing you know, your coffees were spilled on the floor, your bagel was lying upside down, and Chris had both arms around you, preventing your fall from tripping on another paparazzi’s foot. One of your hands instantly went to your bump while the other clutched on to Chris.

“For fuck’s sake!” Chris shouted, shielding you with his body, motioning with one arm while the other was behind him, wrapped around you, “Get the fuck out of here!”

“Calm down, man, it was just an accident!”

“She almost fell, dipshit! If you don’t move the fuck away, I promise you won’t have your jobs by noon,” he pointed, watching as everyone got quiet, “Get. the fuck. back! Is that so hard? Is that so hard?” He shouted before they quietly made a path for you and Chris.

Your husband turned back to you, holding your hand tightly in his, “Eyes on me, baby,” he said with urgency, “You okay to walk?”

You nodded, “I’m okay.”

Chris nodded, moving in front of you with one arm out and the other behind him, holding your hand before you reached the car.

He opened the door for you, “Easy there, let’s go, baby, good job, baby, that’s it,” he almost cooed as you got in before he followed beside you.

He quickly took out his wallet, and looked at you when you sniffled, “Give O something for the spilled coffees, too,” you muttered, rubbing your temple, knowing what Chris was about to do.

Chris took out $600, the only amount he had in cash, giving them to Omar who closed the door for you and Chris, “Thanks for the help, and sorry about the mess, man.”

“Really sorry, O,” you said sympathetically, genuinely feeling like you were seconds away from crying as you cradled your bump.

“That’s too much, Hollywood,” Omar shook his head at the both of you.

“It’s not,” Chris said, “Come on, just take them so we can leave these little shits.”

Omar reluctantly took the money, “Are you okay, Y/N?”

You nodded, giving him a small smile, “I’m okay, O. Thanks for the help,” you said. 

“I promise we’re working on the back entrance,” he said, a frown on his face.

“It’s alright,” you replied, “We’ll see you later.”

Omar nodded, waving at the both of you before your driver drove off.

“Should we stop at the hospital?” Chris asked you gently, turning his body to the side slightly as his eyes ran over you, checking for any bruises or any sign that you were hurt.

You shook your head, your eyes going tearful, “I’m okay.”

Chris noticed, his heart breaking and his face falling before he brought you into his chest, “Honey…”

“My bagel,” you cried.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, rubbing your back, “I’ll make you one, how does that sound?”

“Not the same,” you cried again, “But—But thank you.”

At that point you were sobbing, holding on to Chris for dear life.

“You’re okay,” Chris mumbled to himself more than to you, “You’re okay, honey. You’re okay.”

“Are you okay?” You asked him, sniffling as you looked at him.

“I’m—I’m so mad,” he answered truthfully, “If something had happened to you, I—God, Y/N.”

You understood, nodding along to him before you placed your hands on his chest, “You did an amazing job.”

“You almost fucking fell, Y/N, do you know how—Do you know—“

“I didn’t,” you shook your head, “I didn’t fall and you handled it so fucking well, baby. So well.”

Chris sighed, reaching one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Chriiiis,” you dragged, feeling your eyes get tearful again over your husband’s own tearful eyes, you placed your hands on his jaw, “We’re okay. I’m okay, you’re okay, the baby’s okay. I promise.”

“Yeah, just—That was—That was scary.”

You nodded, “It was,” you agreed, “But you handled it,” you said before pecking his lips, “And I love you for it.”

Chris sniffled, giving you a small smile, “I love you.”

Salvatore Masterlist

pairing: mob!jake lockley x oc!fem

summary: the past can only define you if you let it.

warnings: slow burn, cursing, mentions of violence, future smut, mentions of dr*gs 18+ ONLY

tagging: @lex-the-flex

Salvatore

Just Friends

Besame Mucho

Francis Forever

So Tired

Hope is a dangerous thing

-

-

*Sees the limo* Me: Nice. *Sees Jake* Me: Nice. Also Me: Someone’s gonna write fanfic involving Jake and the back of this limo and I can’t wait.

This is so fucking good

Hey sweet Olivia 🥰 have you ever considered writing a Royal AU ? I love the idea of King Bucky and maybe maid or non Royal Reader ! Just thought that’s something you’d like ! Have a great day 💗

Sorry this took so long my lovely 💕

The Cost of Kindness || King!Bucky

Summary: An innocent interaction tears you from your reality and towards a marriage you didn't ask for or want. Warnings: 18+ only, soft!dark Bucky, fluff WC: 3.2k

Bucky’s Masterlist

“Excuse me, sir, you need to pay for that.” Your words were polite but your tone was cool as you caught the would-be thief's hand by the wrist. 

His face was mostly hidden by the cloak that wrapped around his shoulders, the hood only revealing a pair of oceanic eyes. The apple fell from his fingers and you caught it before it could land among the rest and bruise them, lowering the sale price even more. 

“The cost?” He asked quietly, a satiny voice that seemed too smooth for a man in a filthy, raggedy cloak filled with holes larger than your fist. 

His eyes fell to the fruit with longing and you felt sorry for him, looking over your shoulder to see your boss in a conversation with another market vendor. “A smile.”

He blinked slowly as he turned all his attention to you, his hood falling back a bit to reveal a pair of full, pink lips. “A smile?”

“You think it too much, sir?” You teased as you held the ruby red apple up.

“Hardly.” He chuckled, his lips curling into a smile that left your pulse racing and he leant in closer, his teeth biting into the apple in your hand. You were mesmerised by the way his jaw clenched with every chew until his adams apple bobbed with his swallow and you swallowed deeply in appreciation. “I would have been willing to part with a kiss.”

Your lips parted with a sharp intake of breath but before you could respond there was a commotion breaking out as soldiers entered the marketplace. A King’s guard marched towards your stall and you reeled back in fear as he raised his spear, only to stab it into the ground and salut. 

“Your Majesty,” the guard bowed, “it is the Queen Mother. She urgently requests your presence in the palace.”

The apple fell from your grasp, the pure flesh landing among the filth on the floor, much like the King entering the lowly marketplace. You fell to your knees in the mud and bowed your head as your eyes filled with fearful tears, begging for forgiveness and leniency for touching him - an act punishable by death. A warm finger curled beneath your chin and tipped your head back to see those bright eyes and you chided yourself for being so foolish. Eyes like that could belong to only one man, King James.

“Stand.” He beckoned as the pressure to your chin increased and you rose up as gracefully as you could.

“I’m sorry, your Majesty, I didn’t know it was you. Forgive me.” You whispered as the tears broke the line of your lashed defence, streaking over your cheeks to spill on his hand.

“You didn’t know it was me.” He nodded in agreement, his hand coming to rest on the silver and gold hilt of his sword. “Yet you were still offered your goods for a smile.”

“I did.” Your body trembled as you confessed and you closed your eyes while you waited for him to draw the sword and end your life with one fell swoop.

“Steven, bring the lady to the palace.”

You opened your eyes and saw the guard that had met the King look you over before nodding. A crowd was already gathering and you could hear their whispers spreading rumours as you took the guard's arm that he offered, wishing you could run in the opposite direction.

“He’s made a mistake, I’m no lady.” You pleaded with Steven as you watched the King shrug off his hooded cloak, revealing a fine suit beneath. “I’m just a farmer’s daughter.”

“Just stay calm, take a deep breath.” Steven said before you heard him whisper to himself. “They’re gonna eat you alive.”

You knew there was no point fighting but your pace slowed until Steven’s hold on you tightened and your sandals began to skid through the dirt. 

“Listen up, farmer’s daughter.” Steven growled beneath his helm as he turned his ice blue eyes down to you. “The King has given his order, now I am going to deliver you to the palace but it is up to you whether it is on your own two feet or not. I have no quarrels with tossing you over my shoulder if it makes my life easier.”

You sighed in defeat before grabbing your linen skirt and tugging it up so you could march faster towards Steven’s horse. The beast was huge and nothing like the old girl that slowly dragged the plough through the fields at home. This was a royal steed, purebred for strength and stamina in wars, and from the heavy stomping of his hoof he did not seem happy to have his rider replaced.

“Steady, Boulder.” Steven soothed his horse as he ran his palm along its neck before it reared back and snorted, steam exploded from his nostrils like the dragon on his crest.

“She’ll ride with me.” 

The King had seen the fear in your eyes as Boulder reared and he pulled the reins in your direction, leading his golden haired stallion towards you. You looked between both horses, their muscles rippling beneath shiny coats and standing at the same height. 

“I could walk.” You muttered as you looked to the distant palace. “I promise you, I won’t dally.”

“Nonsense. Now get on.” James ordered as he held his hand down for you. 

You looked at the leather riding glove and swallowed the lump in your throat as you placed your hand in his. His strength surprised you and you barely caught the small squeal that built as he pulled your feet off the ground and over the space he left in front of him.

“Wonderful.” You grumbled to yourself as you rearranged your tangled skirt layers and settled into the hard saddle. “This is just perfect.”

“More than you know.” James’ voice was barely more than a whisper before he cleared his throat and clicked his tongue to set his horse off at a trot. “You are going to hear things in the palace that should not be repeated. Do you understand?”

“I don’t understand.” You shook your head. “I did one good deed and now I am to be punished. No, your Majesty, I don’t understand anything.”

“You are not being punished.” James sighed, the sway of the horse’s walk rocking his lips closer to your ear. “And, please, when it is just us you can call me Bucky.”

You turned your head away with a scoff and watched the cherry blossoms opening as the sun rose higher over the land, warming the cool spring air. You would have thought the day perfect for a ride, if only you had a choice on where it was you were headed. 

The crunch of hooves of the gravel path began to grate on your nerves and your spine stiffened as the towers of the palace began to peek over the trees. You were so rigid that when you felt Bucky’s hands loosen the reins and come to rest on your knees you jerked and nearly fell off his horse. 

“Sorry, habit of riding alone.” He chuckled as his hands caught your waist and steadied you back in front of him. “You can hold the reins if you wish.”

You shook your head rapidly at the thought of trying to control such a beast and leant away from them as if the leather bands were a pair of vipers. The retreat pressed your back into Bucky’s chest and you felt his lips brush lightly over your neck, a gasp escaping your lungs at the electric shocks the touch sent down your body. 

“I’ll take that as a no then.” He chuckled quietly in your ear, goosebumps prickling over your skin as he once again gripped the reins and laid the fists over your skirt.

Every jostle shifted his hands and your heartbeat harder every time, a similar beat beginning to throb between your legs. 

“Bucky?” You asked, feeling his chest rumble with a deep hmmm in response. “If I am not being punished, why am I being taken to the palace?”

His chest rose and fell against your back as he pondered how to answer you until he could see no good outcome for any excuse he gave. “You’ll see.”

The dress you had been gifted was unlike anything you had ever worn before. The fine embroidery told a story with its delicate thread, roses and dragons, thorns and fire. The theme danced around the skirt while the corseted bodice left you feeling breathless but beautiful. 

You were desperate to find Bucky and get answers but every time you asked where the King was you were shushed and told to be patient. Patience was not your virtue and you struggled to sit still as the ladies surrounding you tried to arrange your hair that now smelt of rose water and patchouli. You had offered to do it yourself but quickly closed your mouth at the glare reflected in the mirror. 

“May I come in?” Bucky asked with a knock at the door.

“It’s your palace, your Majesty.” You replied as you rolled your eyes before you cried out in pain and saw the seamstress waving her needle at you in threat of another poke.

“Everything alright?” Bucky asked as he heard you and pushed the door open. “Oh, wow, you look absolutely stunning.”

Your eyes turned to the floor as you shied away from his heated gaze, your fingers tracing the golden thread of the dragon's head. “Thank you, your Majesty.”

He stepped closer to you and held his elbow out for you to take, your silk gloved hand coming to rest lightly on his forearm. “Did I mention how wonderful you look?”

“It’s the dress.” You mumbled as you followed his lead through the candlelit halls. “It’s very beautiful.” 

“It is, but so are you.”

You were sure the silver necklace that hung around your neck would melt from the heat you were producing but the ruby pendant remained set between the valley of your breasts. Unable to form a reply without confirming that he had your mind in a tizz, you remained silent and focused on walking in the heeled shoes that had been buckled to your feet. 

“I know I have been secretive about why you are here, and I am sorry for that.” Bucky said as he came to a stop outside a fair of formidable iron doors. “I am also sorry for what you are about to hear but I hope you will forgive me in time.”

The air froze in your lungs as the doors opened and you were led into the formal receiving room that was filled with royal advisors and the Queen Mother. Bucky’s mother rose to her feet as she saw her son, her eye’s barely giving you a cursory glance before she descended on the King.

“What is this I hear of you traipsing through the market like a peasant?” You struggled not to flinch at the icy tone of his mother and instead focused on the feel of Bucky’s muscles clenching in his forearm as his hand formed a strained fist. Looking up you saw his cheek ticking, the shadow of a beard sharpening his jawline as he suppressed his blatant anger. “I have spent the entire month convincing King Anthony to arrange a marriage with his daughter and on the day of her arrival you are nowhere to be seen.”

“You shouldn’t have troubled yourself needlessly.” Bucky stated. 

“Needlessly?” She scoffed. “You know the law, you need a Queen to produce an heir if you wish to remain on that throne your father died to put you on.”

Bucky’s free hand came to rest on yours, a small squeeze given as he squared off with his mother. “I need a wife, not a Queen.”

You tried to pull away as Winnifred turned her cold eyes on you but Bucky held your hand firm, his strength overpowering yours tenfold. She may have been shorter than you with her age but she still managed to look down her nose, scrutinising every part of you - even the depth of your soul seemingly. Other than the wide eyed, petrified look on your face there was no way of knowing you were one of the ‘peasants’ from the marketplace, you looked as adorned and pampered as the rest of the ladies in the room. 

Turning back to her son, you breathed a sigh of relief that her intense stare was no longer on you. “You would crown a nobody when you could have a princess?” 

“I would rather crown a kind nobody than have another frigid bitch living within these walls, mother.”

His fingers tightened on your arm as he felt you trying to pull away. The corset suddenly seemed too tight and you couldn’t draw the air needed into your lungs. 

“The poor woman is going to faint. She will never survive Court.” Winnifred laughed, turning her back on the King and walking back to her chair set aside from the pair of thrones centre to the room. “Tell me, darling, the treasury is waning - what dowry do you bring? What can you do to make this union profitable?”

You hadn’t known the country was in a dire financial state, in fact, from the lavish balls that were thrown each month behind the high palace walls you would have thought the opposite. Clearing your throat, Bucky looked at you with surprise as you stepped forward with a sudden fire in your belly. You didn’t want to marry the man you had just met, you didn’t want to be standing in the throne room of the palace, but since that was where you were you had a duty to your fellow lower class people to speak up.

“For starters, tax the rich.” You stated boldly, a chorus of scoffs and mocking laughter circling the room before the previous Queen held up her hand to silence them. 

“And when they revolt? How will you stop them from fighting?”

It was your turn to laugh as you shook your head incredulously. “I’m not sure how battles were fought back in your day, your highness, but I’ve never seen the rich or royal fight. You hide in the safety of your palaces while you send poor sons and fathers to their death.”

You turned to look around the room, glad to see at least a few ashamed faces unable to hold your stare until you face Bucky, that same smile he had given you in the market sending your heart racing. His arm curled around your waist and he nodded to his mother before guiding you back out of the room, his grin never wavering as the heavy doors closed behind you.

Pulling yourself from his touch you turned and poked your finger into his hard chest. “You smile at the idea of war?”

“Not in the slightest.” He smiled with a shake of his head. “There are very few people who would disagree with my mother. Ever since I saw you arguing with the forecourt master, I knew there was something special about you.”

Your feet stumbled as you remembered the argument the week prior. The price of hiring a market stall had increased twice in the last quarter and it was getting harder to sell products with the inflation - customers opting to travel further out of the city to where prices were cheaper. There had been an audience to the arguments but you hadn’t paid enough attention to the individuals to notice if there had been a cloaked figure among them. 

“Why have you been watching me?” You asked as you backed away from the King, the  hem of the long dress tripping you and nearly sending you falling into a tall candelabra.

Bucky surged forward and caught you around the waist, your breasts straining dangerously close to the top of the corset as he cradled your arched back and you threw your arms around his neck in case his strength failed. “Because I require a wife to keep my title, and I think you have the qualities needed in a Queen.”

“I’m not a royal.” 

“There is no written law that you have to be, trust me, I have read them all.” Bucky sighed, pulling you upright but keeping you in his arms. 

“How can I trust you? I don’t even know you. This morning I was ankle deep in mud selling fruit and now I’m,” you tugged at the dress, falling short on the word you wanted, “this. It isn’t me. I’m sorry but you should marry the Stark princess, your Majesty.”

“Forget the dress, just for a minute, forget the hair and the jewellery, even the palace.” Bucky begged, his eyes glowing bright in the midday sun that filtered through the windows of the hall. “You are brave, everyone in that room has witnessed it first hand. You understand business and commerce, albeit on a smaller scale than a whole country - but it’s really not that different. Most of all, you care about other people - even when there is no benefit to you. That is a rare sight to see and it was the moment I knew you were the one to rule at my side.”

“Bucky, stop.” His fingers tipped your head back and you could feel the warmth of his breath across your cheek, your body ready to betray your mind as he leant in, but you turned away at the last moment. “You claim to know my character but you have yet to ask the most basic information about me.”

“I’m not saying this will be easy, and I promise we will get to know each other with time.” He sighed. 

“So you don’t even want to know what my name is? My birthday? Where I live?”

“You think I didn’t find all this out before I arranged our wedding?” He chuckled. “I know everything about you, Y/N. That is why I know you are perfect for me.”

The room began to spin as his confession battered around in your brain. “I can’t marry you.”

“You can and you will.” Bucky promised as he cradled your cheek while you froze beneath his touch. “Your father has already accepted it, with more than fair share of remuneration I might add, so I suggest you do too - and quickly.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and sagged in defeat, knowing your family needed the money as much as you needed your head to live, something that you were at risk of losing if you disrespected the King. “Fine.”

“I know this isn’t what you wanted, but we can learn to love each other.” He murmured gently as his thumb stroked your cheekbone. “You can’t deny the spark between us.”

You closed your eyes, the small shake of your head giving him hope as he wrapped his arms around you. There was no way to deny it, in his arms you could almost forget where you were as his scent drove you wild and his touch threatened to set your body on fire. Resting your head on his shoulder you hoped he was right, but only time would tell.

——

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We love youuuu ❤️

You deserve every single one of those followers even more !! You feed us every with content of high quality you fucking deserve all the love in this world !!

Whaaaaatttttt??? How did this happen!

Thank you to everyone of your beautiful people who follow my shit show of a blog 💕 I see you, I appreciate you, I want to kiss every single one of you on the forehead (respectfully, if you gave me permission of course)

I feel like I should do a challenge or something to celebrate but have no idea what so I’ll just keep going with requests because you all have such great ideas!

Thank you once again ❤️

@dilemmaontwolegs This! Is so funny to me 😭😭