Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Princess!Reader (Royal AU)
Summary: Obedience, duty, pristine smiles—raised as the princess of an oppressive kingdom, you knew nothing else. Your father signed your life away at the ripe age of five, black ink bleeding into a contract between nations, fate cemented with the flick of a quill. So when the time came to fulfill the promises you were too young to make, you expected much of the same in the land of Brookshire. But Prince James had other plans, as did the enemies looming outside the castle walls.
Word count:5k
Warnings: Some rising tensions, corset drama, and a little more fluff <3
a/n: I love love feedback, so let me know what you think!! There’s some angst on the horizon
“Darling, have you seen the view from the east window?” Bucky called, his voice distant from the other end of the dining table.
“Prince James, this is the third morning in a row you’ve asked me that.”
“Well, this is the third morning in a row that you’ve sat so far away.”
You glanced up from your breakfast with a small smile, your brow arched. “It is customary for us to sit here,” you explained, motioning toward the chairs opposite to each other. “That’s why your staff set the table this way.”
“Customary for who?”
“Royals, Prince James.”
Bucky scoffed, his chair scraping the floor as he got up, his plate clinking against his fork as he gripped it between rushed fingers. It took about four, long steps before he reached the seat to your left, and then he pulled it out with just as much dramatism.
“Perhaps, as a pair, we do away with royal customs that have me sitting a mile away from my wife,” he concluded, plopping down on cushion and wood with a grace he certainly hadn’t learned from a court tutor. “Besides, I’m thinking that whoever created that rule must not have been married to you.”
Your face burned as it usually did when he made comments like that. Bucky seemed to love making your relationship feel like a casual affair, as if your union hadn’t been set in stone for years, the pairing a political tactic your father used to send you away. He seemed to love making you feel like he was falling for you by choice.
“We are not even married,” you reminded him. “No matter how many times you call me your wife.”
Wife—a word he used with frequency, as of late.
He hummed. “Not yet, my princess.”
His foot slid to meet yours under the table; a small brush, but a purposeful one. You lost your breath for a moment as Bucky continued to eat his breakfast, feigning indifference with a bite of bread just as his ankle brushed yours. And then his eyes turned up to yours with a knowing glint. But before you could say anything back, the dining room doors opened with an echoing boom.
“I apologize, Your Highnesses,” an unsure voice sounded. “But… well Prince James, the queen is going over a few last minute preparations for tomorrow, and she said that you insisted on being the one to confirm the guest list.”
Bucky’s eyes refused to leave yours as he replied, “Thank you, Peter. You can tell my mother that I—”
“She told me not to come back unless you were with me,” Peter interrupted, a small, apologetic smile etched onto his face.
You bit back a laugh at the vexation blooming along Bucky’s brow, his jaw ticking as he finally tore his eyes from you. He went back and forth with Peter for a while, trying to demand more time with you since he was the one that decided whether or not Peter got knighted. But the witty squire took those empty threats in stride, further insisting that the queen was still the one he reported to.
Well, until the coronation anyway. And the wedding.
“Fine,” Bucky finally huffed, discontentedly. “If my mother truly needs me at this very moment, I suppose I will miss out on my fleeting, invaluable time with the princess here.”
You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. “I will see you tomorrow night, Prince James.”
“Yes, but there will be so many people there. And they will all want to dance with you. I hardly think I will get a moment of your time before you are whisked away in the arms of some old commander or nobleman.”
If you were being honest, the night was going to go exactly as Bucky described it. It was a ball to welcome the new princess to court; a way to introduce you to the neighboring lands and get the government of Brookshire acquainted with their soon to be queen. You would have to laugh at bad jokes and dance with old men and wear those heels that Bucky insisted you shove into the far corner of your closet.
You would have very little time with the prince, and while that saddened you, it also afforded you a sliver of unkind reality.
This night was what your entire life had been—your life before Bucky. So it would be easy to fall back into the routine, to smile when you didn’t want to and dance with those you didn’t know. You’d dance the waltzes ingrained in your muscle memory and slink back into dark corners when the men started discussing the country’s politics. And it would be okay. Because back in Hyland, you’d end these nights alone in your quarters, feeling empty and used.
But tomorrow night, you had a feeling you wouldn’t have to feel that way. That maybe, if you asked, Bucky would be there, ready and willing to make you feel whole again.
“Perhaps you would be better off finding a moment of my time after the ball then?”
Bucky’s smile was vibrant, his hands reaching out to brush your hair from your eyes as he stood from the table. He kept your cheeks between his hands for a moment longer, admiring you with your spoon still held out in front of you, an unexpecting expression on your face.
“I will,” he affirmed, leaning down to press a kiss on your hairline. You almost dropped your spoon. “I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.”
Yes—you were positive that while the ball would be draining, Bucky… Bucky would be everything you needed to fix that. Everything you needed all along.
~~
The corset pulled tighter around your ribs, Natasha wincing with each tug as she kneeled before you, lacing the shoes you surely couldn’t reach anymore. The royal dresser let out a huff from behind you before wiping her brow and tying off the ribbon. She bowed, handed Natasha the rest of your formal wear, and then left with a smile.
“She was nice,” Natasha hummed, helping you into the rest of your dress.
“I don’t think I have ever had a dresser apologize so many times,” you remarked, trying to relieve some tension on your waist. “I think she thought I was going to pass out.”
“Well, it has been some time since you last wore a corset.”
“I cannot believe I used to wear these every day,” you exasperated.
Natasha grumbled at that, replying snarkily, “You used to be forced to wear them every day.”
She laced together the final pieces of your dress, the tool and silk falling in beautiful waves along the floor. You adjusted your posture once more, trying to find a comfortable position to breathe. You were sure you looked like the perfect picture of the monarchy, but you truly were out of practice when it came to royal dress; Bucky and the ladies of this court were quite adamant that day dresses and comfortable footwear were more than acceptable for your daily life.
It was nothing like back at home, with metal binding constantly strapped to your back and your toes constantly pinched together in tiny shoes.
You comforted your friend with a hand on her shoulder and an understanding look. You knew how much she hated your treatment back in Hyland. But she knew that if she ever said anything, the small privileges she was afforded would’ve been taken from her in a single blink. And her position would’ve dropped as well, sending her far, far away from you.
“It’s okay, Natasha. It’s different here.” You took careful steps to the door, reaching for the brass handles, knowing the guards were waiting for you on the other side. “I think it will stay that way.”
The walk to the ballroom was glistening—the floors, the walls, the lights. You were in the south wing of the castle, where the balls were held and the guests resided, and—apparently—where all of the marble in the kingdom was held. You found yourself missing the charming cobblestone and tile that made up the wing you stayed in. You missed the wide open windows and the linen curtains that rustled each morning. The ocean that woke you up with a different kind of gleam… the kind that lit up the oil paintings on your walls and slid along your skin in delicate patterns.
When Steve gave you a tour upon your arrival, you hadn’t noticed the contrast as much; the castle was so large and you were taken into so many rooms. But it was jarring now—the stiffness of the guest wing. You wondered why your wing was so different, since Bucky obviously stayed there as well. You wondered who the designers had in mind when they put together the comfort that you loved so much.
“Are you ready?” Natasha whispered by your ear. You hadn’t even noticed the grand doors in front of you, their intricate wooden patterns waiting to be pushed open. You could hear the music on the other side, the sounds of expensive shoes against polished marble.
“Of course,” you replied, but your voice wasn’t as strong as you remembered it to be just moments before.
The doors were opened anyway.
Immediate silence. Violins stopped, the people parted; you stood just beyond the doors, head held high in a feigned confidence—a product of years and years of practice. The announcer called out your name and title in a voice you were so used to, and your next job was simply to smile and walk in. To make your way to the seat at the head of the room, and sit until you were asked to dance by one of the expensive shoes.
But then Bucky was there, stepping in your path with his hand held out in offerance. Bucky was there and he was smiling at you with those boyish eyes, still so youthful even when paired with his royal military uniform.
You took a glance back at Natasha, questioning your next move; she had never led you astray. With a small smile, she nodded her head, and you turned to take the hand you never quite let yourself believe would be there when you were growing up.
The music began the second Bucky took your waist. It was the Merry Widow Waltz, a dance you’d learned just after you were able to walk. An admittedly glance dance, one to welcome you to the festivities, surely, and you were glad when other couples joined the floor soon after—less attention on you, were you to mess up the steps.
Bucky guided you along the floor with practiced ease, tugging you closer to his chest around others, smiling down at you when you risked a glance up at him.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered by your ear, when the dance took you farther away from the center of the floor. “You always do.”
For the first time at any ball, you let a laugh free, “I wasn’t expecting a dance so soon, Prince James. I only just entered the room.”
He released you, using one hand to twirl you away, but quickly capturing your waist back in his grip. This was supposed to be a fast-paced waltz, with the couple leaving distance between each other for quick moves. But Bucky kept the two of you about one step behind the rest of the room, his desire to keep you close slowing you down. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care as his nose brushed yours.
“I told you, princess. You are the star of the evening. I must take all the time I can get.”
The dance ended long before you wanted it to, Bucky parting from you with a bow and wink that left you feeling privy to some information you had never even shared. Maybe that’s just how it felt to be falling in love—like you had some secret that no one else could ever understand.
You ruminated on the thought as the evening progressed. When you were spun around the room and asked about your homeland, all you could think about were the eyes tracking you from the far side of the ball, how they looked at you in a way that no one else did. When your gloved hand was kissed by noblemen and governors, you were reminded of the way Bucky kissed your hand, and your head and your fingers… how each touch of his lips sent you falling down a well of uncharted feelings.
You thought about kissing him back.
You were only pulled from your clouded daze when it was time to actually meet the other royals in the room—the whole purpose of the evening. Steve stood beside you on the steps leading up to the thrones, his shined and polished shoes just a tad bit untied.
“This is King T’Challa. He rules over Wakanda. Brookshire does a lot of trade with his kingdom.”
“It is lovely to meet you,” you greeted, shoulder slightly pressing against Steve’s chest in familiarity. “I am so excited to become more acquainted with you and your people.”
The king gave you a firm handshake and a smile, but didn’t stick around for small talk. He was one of the easier royals to meet—kind but to the point. The rest of the gentlemen were more chatty, some of the women were more stiff. A few younger royals came up to speak about future prospects and Steve had to shoo them away with a small laugh. Natasha joined you on the steps after the fourth group that came to bow and meet you, and you relaxed more then.
“Almost done,” Steve promised, a strong hand placed on your arm. “I believe there is only one more guest we have yet to meet. She arrived a little late but I saw her and her—ah, Sharon!”
You looked up from your shoes, eyes falling on the blonde in purple silk making her way to the front of the room. You recognized her; she danced with Bucky three songs after you arrived. Not that you were keeping track. A lot of people were dancing with Bucky tonight.
She reached you and offered a small smile, one you reciprocated with ease and a bow. “It is nice to finally meet you, Princess y/n,” she said, her head dipping.
“Finally?” you questioned. Queen Sharon was the ruler of Madripoor, a place you only learned about after arriving in Brookshire. You definitely hadn’t had any correspondence before this.
“Yes, I feel as if I already know you!” she laughed. “Bucky speaks of you so freely. I swear you were on his mind before he even got the chance to ask poor Steve what you looked like.”
You blinked, the use of Bucky’s name surprising you. Well—the use of his name along with Steve’s, and of the familiarity this queen seemed to have with your fiancé. But Bucky had an entire life before you came along, and you needed to remember that. It was just jarring since the past weeks had been secluded to the two of you. This was the first time you had come into contact with the outside world since you arrived in Brookshire, and a small kind of bubble was bursting.
“Oh, of course,” you conceded, with a laugh you had practiced many times. “I suppose there is much to talk about when you’ve been engaged for so many years.”
“Yes, many years.”
Her tone confused you, its slight bite unwarranted and out of place. You pretended it didn’t with another fake laugh. You couldn’t quite mask the tightness in your throat, however, the night verging on overwhelming, especially with this queen’s terseness. You took half a step back to reach the comfort of your friends.
“Well, it was so nice to formally meet you. I’m sure we will be seeing each other often with how close you are to this court.” Almost through gritted teeth. Almost. Natasha’s subtle hand on your wrist kept you polite.
Sharon’s exit was as graceful as her entrance, this time with Steve following behind her with an invitation to dance. You were fairly certain he only did that for you, Natasha’s quick glance over at your cousin conveying all that it needed to.
You turned to your lady in waiting the second Sharon was out of ear shot. “I know I’m not too versed in this kind of thing, but was she…? She didn’t like me, did she?”
Natasha gave you a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure there are many here tonight that are—wanting for your situation. It can make them bitter.”
“Wanting for my situation?” you questioned, baffled. “And what situation is that?”
“Y/n, your fiancé would be the most eligible bachelor in the continent if not for you. You must know that. A crown, a kingdom, a face like that—he has it all, and you took it before they even had a chance.”
You reared back at her insinuation. “It’s not as if I had a choice. You know that better than anyone here.”
“I know, I know,” she placated. “But it does not help when all of the women in the room keep trying to catch his attention and he won’t stop staring at you like that.”
You snapped your gaze in the direction of her hand, spotting Bucky in the center of the ballroom, a champagne flute between his fingers and a dazed look on his face as he seemingly ignored the nobleman talking his ear off. He was ignoring him in favor of watching you, and he didn’t show any signs of getting bored.
Your eyes turning to him was all the confirmation he needed to end his mundane conversation, his drink suddenly pushed into the hands of an unexpecting man. He weaved through the crowd with small apologies and light smiles until he found the base of the stairs, and you did as well, your feet guiding you down to him subconsciously.
“Princess,” he greeted, breathless. “Am I correct in assuming that this next moment of time belongs to me?”
Your smile was contagious, any ill feelings left by the thrones, far away from Bucky. “Completely.”
And even though your feet hurt terribly and your chest struggled to capture a full breath, you felt lightheaded as he whisked you to the floor, carefree. He gathered you in his arms and you were transported to the horses and the flowers and the rays of canary-colored sun that usually came with his citrusy scent, the hints of early morning tea and comfort all wrapped up in the man holding you so closely.
But then the music started, and you were very abruptly thrown out of the dreamy solace you loved so much.
“I do not know this dance,” you panicked. “Prince James, this waltz—what is it?”
Bucky shook his head with fond eyes, his thumb brushing down your temple. “There is no waltz for this dance, my princess.”
You gaped. “I will embarrass you. I’ve never danced without a waltz before. I’ll look like a fool, Prince James, I cannot—”
“I requested this song for you.” Bucky kept his voice low, and you struggled to maintain a calm state with others dancing around you, apparently so sure of the next steps to take. “They play it at every ball, but there isn’t one dance for it.” He let both of his hands trail down to your waist—certainly not a proper position. “Let me show you.”
Your heart beating out of your chest, your palms damp from panic, you nodded your head because as much as you hated to admit it, you’d let Bucky show you just about anything.
And so he showed you.
His hands never left your waist, even when the rest of the room parted to spin and take up hands with others. He consistently held you to him, and his laugh echoing against your chest was the sweetest sound, surpassing any melodic flutes or violins in the space.
You had no idea what pattern your feet were making, nor how many times you had spun around in the same spot on the floor, but Bucky didn’t seem to care. His fingers ran up the boning of your corset and brushed the small bit of exposed skin above your shoulders; they trailed there until he pressed his palm to your neck as well, ushering your head to his chest.
The music kept its upbeat tune, but you did not, because Bucky held you there instead. The reverberation of heels and leather pounded into the soles of your shoes, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to move—couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed when the consistent thud of Bucky’s sweet heart was there against your cheek and wholly, completely yours.
You pulled away slightly, head light from the champagne or your fiancé’s touch, you couldn’t tell. “Bucky,” you whispered, a secret in the air between you, one he would surely keep. “Shall we leave?”
And although it was long before the others would turn in, some guests even staying the night due to how long they would dance, Bucky couldn’t help but give you anything you ever wanted.
“Of course, my darling.”
He would think about the way his name sounded on your lips every night for the next week, but for now, he held your waist as you giggled and pretended to sneak around confused party guests. He fell in love with you just a little more, watching your dress slide against unused marble, knowing that the girl he chased through the halls was just that—a girl. Not a royal or a pawn to be moved around.
But you were his girl, and that made all the difference.
~~
“They are sleeping, princess.”
“You told me there were ducks here.”
“I am very sorry to disappoint,” Bucky laughed, feigning sincerity with a hand over his chest.
You hummed. “You don’t seem very sorry.” You stepped back from the pond, taking a seat on the bench under the aging willow. “In fact, you appear to be very amused by my sorrow.”
Bucky scoffed, rounding his side of the tree to come and join you. He was mused from the night, his hair disheveled and his collar askew; he looked kissed by joy and roused by the dim shine of the moon, and you were having trouble conjuring any other picture of beauty.
“I can assure you,” he spoke out to the pond, his thigh pressing to yours. “Your sorrow could never amuse me. Shall I find a groundskeeper to wake the ducks? Would that appease you, my princess?”
“Of course not. Then the ducks would resent me.”
He turned to you, adoration shining with the stars in his eyes. “We wouldn’t want that.”
With the crickets blaring amongst the high brush by the spring pond, the water rippling with small life, you leaned your shoulder into his. Bucky responded with a brush of his fingers against yours on the surface of the bench, capturing them after only a moment’s hesitation. When he pressed your palms together, words were falling from your mouth before you could stop them.
“I would paint this,” you admitted, only a little embarrassed. “I used to paint. In secret.”
Bucky’s thumb brushed the back of your hand before he responded, “I know. Steve would tell me of your works—how beautiful they were. I don’t know if you got my letters—”
“I got them,” you interrupted. “I just… I didn’t think they were coming from you. I thought they were a ploy from your court. Some obligatory correspondence.”
“They were from me. All of them.”
You knew this. After all of your time with Bucky, you knew that those words were his and his alone; that his sentiments were sincere and that he was a kind prince that would turn into an even more benevolent king.
Minus the ducks of course.
“You could still paint here. If you’d like to, of course,” Bucky whispered. It was almost lost in the rustling willow leaves.
You took in a large breath, gearing up for a long protest about why that was unnecessary—your hobbies were not something that should take up the time of others—when a sharp pain sprouted just below your ribs. The corset, of course; sitting too long with your chest confined in such a way was never good for heavy breathing. You attempted to ground yourself with a steady hand to your stomach, but Bucky was more observant than that.
“Are you alright?” he stressed, standing and bringing you along with him. “Did the tasters miss something? Have you been poisoned?”
Your laugh was stifled by the steel boning along your waist. “No, Bucky, I am fine. It’s nothing to concern yourself with.”
“Thank you for the dismissal but everything to do with you is my concern.”
You focused on the soft pressure of Bucky’s hands on your hips as you steadied your breathing; you had a lot of practice with this kind of feeling, and after a few moments it would pass. But with Bucky tilting his head to catch your eyes, the worry set deep in his brow, you were having a hard time with the otherwise simple task. When he brushed his touch up to your chin, angling your gaze to his, you were no longer sure if the corset was the problem.
“What is it?” he asked, so gently you almost fell into the words
“My corset. I’m just not accustomed to the restriction anymore. It will pass, Bucky, just give me a moment.”
“It’s so tight that it’s hurting you?”
“That is typically the purpose of a corset,” you jested, a grim smile passing over your face.
Bucky shot forward, quick hands coming around you to find the hooks of your gown. “You must take it off.”
It took you a moment to register his words, but as his nimble fingers found the top clasp of your dress, you knocked his arms away at the absurdity.
“I cannot!“ you exclaimed. “If someone were to see me undressing out here with you, there would be an unstoppable onslaught of rumors.”
Bucky huffed, now a slight tightness in his jaw, more concern shining through. “Rumors about what, darling? A couple, engaged to be married, having a secret rendezvous by the pond? I’m sure there is more interesting court gossip than that.”
“We are not yet married.”
“And I am simply trying to ensure that my fiancée doesn’t suffocate,” Bucky rushed, attempting once again to free you from the uncomfortable garment. He got a clasp free this time.
You slid back, unraveling yourself from his arms. “Prince James!” you scolded.
“Back to that? I’ve become so fond of hearing you say my name.”
“Fine,Bucky,” you tried. “Either way, you cannot take my corset off. It is… extremely improper. The dressers have to do that, and they typically prefer to do it inside.”
With all of your frustrated huffs and helpless quips, you found yourself struggling more and more to capture a full breath. Your chest rose and fell at an alarming rate, your hands coming up to set comfort into your stomach, but finding little solace there. You were panicked at the prospect of someone finding you out here, half dressed, but the alternative—keeping the corset on—was becoming impossible.
What surprised you, however, was your lack of discomfort at the idea of Bucky pulling the laces from your back. You hadn’t even given that aspect of it all a second thought when he reached for you, instead focusing on the humiliation of discovery. You didn’t have time to unpack those feelings; Bucky was talking again, low and comforting.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” An answer without hesitation—without thinking.
He smiled, softly. “Then turn around.”
Your gaze flickered between his eyes a few more times, your skin resisting the soft breeze on your cheeks. Bucky’s lips parted before he reached for you, and the sword he had strapped to his hip on the way out the door clinked against the metal of his belt. It took one final, nervous wring of your hands and you were facing the willow again, blind to Bucky’s actions.
His fingers touched you first—tentative against your neck, sweeping the ties from your necklace away from the laces of your corset. They lingered there, and you could feel the gentle puff of his breath prickle your skin. He trailed down the indent of your spine until he met the base of the ribbon.
The first pull left a sound resonating past the pond, silk brushing against silk, cotton releasing from its bind. Bucky’s left hand came up to steady your waist in an unnecessary touch. It warmed you through your dress, consumed you like a fire that bloomed up past your neck and spread through your mind.
And then he pulled again and again and again, each tug loosening your chest and constricting it for a completely different reason. You held the corset against you when it fully released, and Bucky let his hands slide up your arms as you stood there, lashes fluttering for someone that couldn’t see it.
“Is that better?”
“Yes,” you breathed out, unable to turn around. “Much better, thank you.”
Lips behind your ear, stealing all of the air from your body with their gentle pressure. “We must get you back in your room before others see you in such a state of undress.” His hands squeezed your arms. “I think my quarters are closer.”
Your face burned, turning on the heel of your shoe with gusto. “I think you are pushing it.”
Bucky reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, playful eyes never straying lower than your lips. “I was only joking, my darling,” he hummed, cupping your cheek in his hand. You leaned into it instantly. “I’d wait forever for you. You know that, don’t you?”
And a part of you, the part that was growing and becoming so used to Bucky’s sweet disposition, did know.
A Higher Reign Royal AU. Amidst an escalating border conflict, the Oscana Alliance offers the gift of a wife to the youngest son of the powerful, Todoroki royal family. Although somewhat of an outcast, the young prince becomes enamored with his beautiful, young wife. But, there are secrets between them….
Mokosh [Mokoš,Мокошь,Mokosz]; a Slavic goddess, protector of women’s work and women’s destiny. She watches over spinning and weaving, shearing of sheep, and protects women in childbirth. She is typically assosiated with spring.
After 2 years since its beginning the war between the Wave Kingdom and the Li Empire is in its last phases. As the Northern Armies approach closer to the sunny coasts of the Clow Kingdom its Princess, Sakura of House Kinomoto is given an ultimatum; oppose the Empire and watch her country and House be devour by a war that is not theirs or marry the Emperor, Xiao Lang of House Li, the Thunder Wolf and if the stories are to be believed the most ruthless ruler that has ever been.
Big thanks to @andrec02and@kuroi-kotoba for being the most amazing beta’s in existance! Special thanks to @whatpunx for making the moodboard!
More picures of Royal family, with loey-dovey Alastor and Angel ((they are Gomez and Morticia of Hell, change my mind)), color palette of twins, how Lorenzo has become obsesseb with being as glamorous as his mother, and happy Easter Sunday ((even in Hell, yea))~
To be fair, Angel has always had a bit of affection for Alastor from the beginning, ignoring him is just one way Angel thinks he will protect himself and his heart. You know, Alastor was always a cunning devil, who knows the colorful flirting he left outside the door is just a prank, a bet with someone and when Angel says yes they would just burst out laughing at him. Angel never dared to think that that powerful Radio Demon could love someone like him, rather, Angel didn’t think anyone loved him.
At that time, Angel was almost running away from everyone, and as everyone saw, ((at least in this AU)) the people around him treated him not badly, but Angel was always immersed in the thought of being pathetic and all of them just pitying him, and that they were laughing behind him. Bad time huh, what is more worse than “stress”? An omega is stress! And Angel thought he was deserved it, he kept running from Alastor to avoid the humiliating end he thought of himself.
And as we all know, Alastor never gives up, especially those related to his Angel. And when Angel realized that Alastor didn’t give up, one night he called him up to the rooftop of the hotel, proved to give up and said okay then I lost I love you i head over heels with one of the most powerful Hell overlords bla bla well now where’s your audience where’s the laughter of a cheap whore’s innocence, just hurry up im too busy with my whore-things.
In response to Angel’s words, Alastor just stood still and his face stiffened, smiling like a tombstone, then he left immediately without saying a word, not returning to the hotel for 2 days, and Angel, his heart also broke into pieces as he thought he had broken the last chance to live in the dream of having his forbidden alpha, but he still tried to smile and said it would be better to live with reality. At least now both of them have returned to their previous lives, which have nothing to do with each other.
But that was what Angel thought, nobody thought after 2 days, Alastor appeared before Valentino’s porn studio with “fawn mama” loud confession :) Everyone froze, and Velvet was the first to react, she said she could smell the pure keen from Alastor, besides the smell of alcohol and fresh blood, pure hunger, pure angry, and hopeless from a madness powerful Alpha like him, it can’t be a lie. And Vox persuading Valention to let Angel go with “that buck” just before they lost a few fingers because of facing Alastor
As soon as Angel agreed to go with him, Alastor telep them both to his owm room at the hotel, a suite room located separately on the top floor. Here, they sat down to talk seriously, a lot of tears from both, their misunderstandings with the other, their sily efforts, their love, they talked a lot, a lot, til late at night and fell asleep together on the carpet next to the sofa.
Well actually Alastor did not really sleep, he just lay there quietly listening to the sound of Angel’s breathing and the peaceful sleep of his love, to know that Angel was safe with no longer entangled in his arms.
It was the first time in both Alastor’s life and after, his Alpha instinct felt pacific.
—
About their first date, after the night of their confession, Angel relaxed a lot with Alastor, and Radio Demon, he wasn’t as hasty as before, though he still cared about his omega more than anything. Cups of creamy coffee with a lots of milk were placed on the table for Angel. The little notes reminded Angel to rest. The touch is small but always ensures Angel feels safe when they walk together because “accidentally” met on the street. little by little, until one day Alastor asked Angel if he wanted to have lunch with him, and when Angel said “like a date”, he was a bit confused as to how to explain Angel just laughed and kissed his cheek, said why not.
Husk swore that day after Angel returned to his room to prepare, Alastor had nosebleeds with silly heart eyes.
The lunch at the bay restaurant was great that day. Angel wore a white dress and a wide-brimmed hat that made Alastor feel like a classic movie scene. Every employee who served them was beta because no one dared to break the mood of Radio Demon. Angel even took the initiative to sit close to him, his omega scent lovingly patting him when they eat together. They got interrupted for about 5 minutes because Rosie passed by with Mimzy and their shopping bags and she couldn’t stop rubbing that these were the most romantic scenes she had been looking forward to after seeing through the so-called Gone with the Wind. ((Mimzy had tried her best to drag her away so the couple could continue dating, thank you Mimzy dear)).
Maybe for everyone, their first date might be a little too intimate, a lot of kisses, they sit closer to each other than usual, and Alastor seems strangely flirtatious. But please, they have waited decades to cherish their destiny.
“Your Highness,” Keith sighed, “please sit up properly. You’re meant to be representing the queen today.”
“Representing, yes. Imitating, no. Besides, I look way cooler like this.”
———
In which Keith is a royal guard and just really wants Lance to sit like a proper prince for once in his life.
Also, I checked procreate’s time lapse and it said 16 hours lmao I’m pretty okay with how this turned out tho! There are things I would change or tweak still but I could poke at this forever so I decided it was done still growing and learning and this was a fun piece to work on
The moon was shining brightly on the night sky and the way it reflected on Andrew’s hair seemed ridiculous and perfect in a way Neil was now used to.
He wondered once more if somehow he was dreaming and was now part of some delusional reality were he and Andrew were free men, not bound to any crowns or kingdoms.
But then again, Andrew’s eyes seemed too beautiful in moonlight to ever wonder if it was a delusion.
“Staring”
Andrew said, as if sensing Neil on his periphery. Neil only hummed in agreement but didn’t even bother to try and look anywhere else. Andrew was simply to breathtaking.
“You’re gonna injure yourself if you keep thinking so hard”
Andrew mused.
“Yeah that’s about right”
Neil commented while moving his gaze upwards and trying to count the stars to compare them with Andrew’s freckles.
Who would have thought that Prince Andrew of Palmetto, someone known to be as cold and sharp as ice, was a man with endless freckles on his face if you looked close enough? No one actually, so Neil happily kept looking for constellations and thinking about how would they look on Andrew’s face.
“What are you thinking about?”
“What?”
Neil snapped from his thoughts just in time to see Andrew’s unamused face looking at him.
“What are you thinking about that has you making that stupid face, Oh Revered, Prince Neil of Baltimore.”
Andrew said it with a solemn air, as if thinking he was funny when he said things like that, as if Neil didn’t hate his title enough.
“Oh your highness, I plead of you to bear in mind my weak heart against your incredible sense of humor.”
Neil said snidely, but it looked like Andrew was not taking his elusiveness.
“Neil cut the bullshit, I know you’re worried about something, spit it out.”
Well, there went Neil’s plan of not bearing his heart out tonight but with Andrew he shouldn’t have expected anything else.
“It’s nothing… I just, I’ve been imagining things, even when you haven’t asked me to. I imagined that I ran away and met you here on Palmetto, the best fighter of the Royal guard, and I’m not yours but I make you so happy anyway, isn’t that ridiculous? Tell me to stop.”
Neil was rambling, he knew this and he was also aware of the shaking of his hands, it was a stupid thing to say. What was he thinking? , he couldn’t just say this to Andrew and expect something back, it was unfair, and now Andrew probably hated him and didn’t want to see him anymore.
Andrew was probably so enraged he wanted to declare war to Baltimore judging by the way he hadn’t said anything yet, so not only Neil has fucked up everything between them , but he also singlehandedly managed a war in less that 4 minutes. Oh god this was going to be awfu-
“Don’t stop”
Andrew said in a whisper. Neil freezed.
“Neil, don’t ever stop.”
And then Andrew was slowly bringing up his hand to cup Neil’s face in it, he touched his face like it was something fragile and precious. He made soft circles on the skin of his cheek until he reached his mouth, were he touched gently Neil’s bottom lip with his thumb and Neil felt.
Neil felt like fire was eating him up from the inside, he felt like in his stomach their two enemy kingdoms were at war and Neil was the battlefield. He felt like starstruck Icarus looking at the sun up close from the first time knowing it would be the death of him.
“Neil”
Andrew said patiently, and Neil finally broke away from his thoughts to look at him. To look at Andrew who somehow reflected everything Neil was feeling at that very moment.
“Yes or no?”
Andrew whispered it like a secret , so close to Neil’s face he felt Andrew’s breath of his lips.
“Yes”
And with a gentle hand, Andrew grabbed Neil by the back of his head, hand in his hair, and kissed him.
AndOh it was everything he ever dreamed it would be like but better. Andrew kissed like his life was on the line, like treaties and wars didn’t even matter when kissing Neil could be the last thing he would ever do in his life. He kissed like he’d been famished his whole life and Neil was the only food he would ever have.
And Neil responded to this need and want appropriately. He was surprised himself with the fever want that rose through his body at the thought of having Andrew so close. He felt like they could never be apart, like they were fusing with each other leaving no space for either of their kingdoms in between. It was just the two of them. Neil felt like he could defeat armies and take down kingdoms as long as he had Andrew by his side.
They broke apart with a sigh, and Neil looked up to hazel eyes that were already looking at him.
“Stay”
“Here? In Palmetto?”
“In Palmetto, in the forest beyond this castle, on the other side of the sea, I don’t care. Just stay.”
Andrew speaks in whispers as if afraid that saying it louder would trigger something and Neil would disappear into thin air.
- Andrew I would burn the world for you, I would leave my title and linege in a heartbeat. As long as you let stay there’s no other place I would rather be.
Andrew brings their faces together so their foreheads are resting on one another and takes a deep breath.
Neil takes Andrew’s hand and squeezes tightly. Their hands shake with the weight of the meaning this moment has, the weight of their kingdoms and expectations that take a toll on their bodies with the slightest gaze or brush of skin they share that feels forbidden.
“Neil, yes or no?”
Neil knew what the question was meant for. It meant fighting, it meant fighting for them, for their future and the hopeful future of their kingdoms . It meant the possibility of waking up with Andrew by his side every day for the rest of his life. It was too good to let go.
Neil brought his face back pressed a kiss on Andrew’s cheek.
Sneak peek:‘Listen, father… I am not sure about how this whole story will end, if it will be a simple story of two people that celebrated their love through a wedding which lasted seven days and seven nights, or if it will be a fantastic story of losing ourselves and straying apart, or even if it will end in death. I do not know which one of these our story will be like – or whether it will even be a true story, to begin with, but I want to live it.’
Characters:white-hair Touya Todoroki with an opposite personality from the one in canon manga, the Prince; female! Reader, daughter of a hunter, reader possesses fairy genes; Enji and Rei Todoroki are mentioned as the King and Queen; Hawks is mentioned as Touya’s best friend (slightly one-sided gay-themed friendship);
Possible triggers:the word ‘cocaine’ is mentioned, but no drug use; ‘arranged marriage’; health problems after birth (not the reader); the reader was abandoned by her mother after birth; animal death by hunting; it was used a comparison with ‘dropping a bomb’; slightly over-protective father of the reader; a tint of angst during some father – daughter, mother – son conversations; ‘death’ (not related to the reader); no use of condom; oral sex (female receiving);
Genre:SMUT WITH A PLOT + multiple fluffy and soft moments; short fragments of sensual behaviour; explicit smut at some point near the end; soft dominant virgin Touya; shy virgin reader;
Summary: You take your father’s place as King despite being a woman. In order to make peace and end the war you agree to meet the prince - who ends up being your fated mate. You can only hope your fated mate gets along with the mate had chosen before you met him.
Warnings: angst, grief, fluff, little bit of smut
Reader: Alpha Female Reader
Pairings: Beta Frank Castle x Alpha Reader - Omega Matt Murdock x Alpha Reader
The kingdom is in mourning. The great king is dead; killed on the battlefield. The Lords are doing what they can to keep the peace among the people. The last thing anyone wants is for panic to spread whilst in the middle of the bloodiest war known to history.
You buried your father today. Even the Earth seemed to mourn this loss. The rain poured with such vigor that it raised the creeks and flooded the paths the enemy army might have driven down to siege the royal castle. You knew that the first chance they got they’d march right here and attempt to take the throne. Your father had no male successor. The throne is vulnerable.
You stood beside the throne with your siblings as the people greeted your mother, the widowed queen. You were right beside her. Everyone turned to you directly after giving their condolences to her. You knew what everyone was thinking but nobody has yet to say it out loud.
You’re not the eldest child. You’re somewhere in the middle of roughly a dozen other siblings. Twelve children are a bit obsessive, right? Your parent must have loved making babies and raising kids. Well, not exactly.
In your kingdom, and all the kingdoms in the land, it is law that only an alpha could succeed the throne. While you had older brothers and sisters - and younger ones as well - you were the only one out of the liter to present as an alpha. Your presentation out ranked your older siblings who only presented as either betas or omegas.
So, the twelve siblings weren’t due to the fact that your parents loved children. They were trying to conceive a male alpha. It’s the only thing in their reign they failed in.
While the kingdom mourned the loss of your father - their king - you mourned the future you had planned. You mourned the freedom you could have had; the life you could have lived.
You knew tomorrow would be the coronation. They couldn’t afford to wait. If there was nobody on the throne when the enemy arrived, then it would be all too easy for them to take it. While your mother was still alive, she was only a grieving omega queen who didn’t truly understand the art of war and the politics of man. She played her own realm of politics. The king and queen had two very different jobs; she wouldn’t know what to do.
Your father, fearful that he would never conceive another alpha, taught you how to be king. He prepared for every possibility and knew that when the time came it wouldn’t matter that you were a female; the job would fall upon your shoulders. He needed you to be prepared; he needed to know the kingdom would be in good hands if he should fall.
Tomorrow you will be crowned king. Your mother will remain queen until you find your own omega to take her place. It wouldn’t be an easy task. The omega would have to be a male; they’re as rare as you are.
When the night was over, and everyone was dismissed you returned to your room. Your ladies helped take the pins from your hair and undress from your clothes. Despite it being modern times, you still found the corset to be a nice touch to pay homage to the past.
They asked you if you would need anything else; you declined and bade them good night. The instant the doors were shut the man hiding in the dark corner came to the light. When you looked at him the emotions from the day rushed forward. You didn’t have to put up a front with him. You trusted him implicitly.
“Come here, baby,” He whispers, beckoning you forward. With a few large strides you’re in his embrace. He holds you close, and you nestle into his shoulder. He doesn’t give you his condolences or give you false promises. The two of you are past such formalities.
The two of you end up in bed. You’re laying between his legs, your head on his chest. There’re no clothes keeping you from the skin-to-skin you desperately need. You close your eyes and listen to his steady heartbeat. He slowly combs his fingers through your hair; periodically massaging your head.
“We could still do it,” He whispers. Your heart drops instantly knowing what he’s talking about. “We could be across the ocean before they even knew you were gone,”
“They’d find us… Maybe not soon but they would,” You whisper back. “It would be a life on the run and when we’re dragged back how could I look at anybody knowing I left when they so desperately needed me?”
“How could you help them after they treated you?” He asks, the anger coming back to his voice as it always does when talking about this.
“Frankie baby, you know it doesn’t bother me how they treated me,” You whisper, lifting your head. “It doesn’t matter what my personal feelings are. It’s my duty, my responsibility to take the throne.”
“And what about us?” Frank asks. Your legs move over his to straddle his waist. You move up his body and hover over his face. “I’m not exactly good for your image, baby,”
“What?” You ask teasingly. You lay back down on his chest and move your head just to the side to rest on your palm. Frank’s head follows you, unwilling to break eye contact. “I think telling the world that my chosen mate is the famed Punisher is exactly the image I need,” You whisper only half joking. “Your reputation is world famous. Everyone would cower at the thought of you. Kingdoms would think twice about moving against us,”
“But I’m only a beta,” Frank whisper. You sigh. Your eyes fall shut and your head presses against his. He instinctively holds you closer.
“But you’re only a beta,” You mutter knowing it wouldn’t be enough to hold the crown. You needed an omega. Omega and alpha parings had nearly a large chance at producing an alpha offspring whereas alpha and beta pairings rarely conceived them.
“You’ll look beautiful tomorrow,” He whispers, gently changing the subject. “You’ll take the throne and kick ass. You’ll bring us back to peace, I just know it,”
If only he realized that in order to bring peace would to the kingdom would be to marry the enemy’s nephew - a prince who happened to be an omega. The rival king took his throne with much controversy. The previous king had died mysteriously paving the way for him to take it. It was supposed to be temporary until the prince was old enough. Only the prince is blind, and people are hesitant to put him on the throne.
However, you taking the throne is the perfect solution for them. With your marriage the war ends, an alliance if formed, and they hand off their blind prince. Your kingdom wasn’t crazy about having a blind queen, but they were desperate for an end to the war.
You were king. You wouldn’t be pushed into anything that you weren’t certain of. You agreed to a private meeting but guaranteed nothing more. It was enough to pacify the other kingdom into pausing the war.
“What’s his name?” Frank asks, watching you get ready.
“You know his name, Frank,” You mutter going your makeup. You refused to let your ladies help get you ready. You wanted as much time with Frank as possible.
“Tell me,” He demands. You bristle a little at the demanding tone, but you force yourself to calm. You look through the mirror and sigh.
“Matthew Murdock,” You whisper. Frank’s jaw ticks. “You knew this was going to happen,”
“Didn’t think it would be so soon,” He growls. Neither did you. You were only king for four months. Within those four months you were quickly proving to be an even harder opponent than your father in regard to the war. You were more ruthless and daring. The bloodiest war was becoming worse, but you were winning. If a truce could be made over marriage you would consider it.
You quickly finished your makeup before walking over to Frank. He was sitting on the side of the bed pouting. You gave him a small smile while gently taking his face in your hands.
“I love you, Frank Castle,” You whisper. He softens and grabs your hips greedily. “And no number of omegas will change that,” You promise.
“What if he doesn’t like me? What if he demands you send me off? I’m not supposed to be with you in the first place,” He mutter. You smirk resting your forehead against his.
“Every king has had their concubine,” You mutter teasingly. He lets out a quick laugh and tugs you into a kiss. “I’m king… I’m not going to let anyone chase you away or send you off,” You hand moves from his cheek to the collar of his shirt. He shivers when you pull it to the side. “I claimed you a long time ago, beta,” You growled possessively. He moans as your lips suck and your teeth nip at the mark. “You’re mine,” You growl reclaiming him.
Frank chokes on a moan, his fingers bruising your hips at the sudden rush of euphoria. He lets out a shaky breath struggling not to cum in his pants. Wanting him to do exactly that you nip at the fresh wound while suddenly palming him through his pants.
“Fuck-” Frank chokes again and cums in his trousers like a teenage boy. You hum approvingly and lap at the bite mark.
“Good boy,” You whisper. Frank couldn’t help but to preen at the praise as he rides through the blissfulness.
“You always pick the worst times to do that,” Frank grumbles, as you pull from his neck.
“Whatever do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head. He shivers again when his shirt brushes over the mark. “Just be happy I didn’t claim a new spot,”
“Then I’d never let you leave,” He growls.
You loved claiming Frank. He always made the sweetest sounds and produced the most intoxicating scent. He currently had four claiming marks. Every time you made a new mark the sex… damn, the sex was wild and insatiable.
“I’m sorry I can’t stick around to help you clean up,” You whisper, running your thumb over his lips. “I’ll make it up to you when I come back,”
“If you come back smelling like that fucking omega then I’ll fuck you all night,” Frank growls.
“Promises, promises,” You wink. “I’ll be back tonight,” You gently kiss his lips and pull away before he could pull you into the bed. “Feel free to stay messy until I return,” You wink at him. “I wouldn’t mind coming back and licking you clean,”
Frank groans loudly and falls back onto the bed. You laugh slipping out of the bedroom.
“Have your way with that sexy beta?” Natasha asks, smirking knowingly as she finds you and matches your pace. You growl warning her to keep her voice down. Your inner circle knew about Frank - only those you would trust with your treasure - but everyone else was oblivious, hopefully.
“Is the car out front?” You ask. Natasha hums nodding.
“Yelena had it brought around. You sure you don’t want us coming with you?” She asks.
“I don’t want to arrive with an army,” you tell her. “Things are already tense, and this is neutral ground. I don’t want to break neutrality,”
“You honestly think he’ll be alone?” She asks.
“No,” You shake your head putting on some sunglasses as you stepped outside. You send Natasha a quick look. “And neither will I,” You mutter before walking to the car.
Natasha, having heard the message (follow and protect from a distance), instantly springs into action. Once the car is on the way she grabs Yelena, Kate, and Wanda. The four of them follow your orders and protect you from the shadows.
“Your majesty,” A man bows before you as you reach the destination.
“Has the prince arrived?” You question.
“Yes, he is inside. As I asked his guards, I must ask that yours remain out here,”
“I only brought my driver,” You inform him. You motion for Jarvis to return to the car before entering the building.
You had different expectations when you imagined meeting the prince. But finding out that the man in front of you is your destined omega was not one of them.
The instant you entered the building his scent wrapped around you. It surprised you so much that you were frozen in place. You breathed in deeply and it simply consumed you.
“Alpha,” His whimper strained as if he didn’t want to make a noise but couldn’t help it. Your eyes snapped open and zeroed in on him.
“Omega,” You growled closing the distance between the two of you. You didn’t touch him, but you stood as close as you could. You knew your eyes were dilated but you help your desires back. You didn’t want to startle him.
You lifted your hand, and as if he could sense it, he flinched away. You were hurt but you shushed him softly. He doesn’t move again as you close in on him.
“You’re so beautiful,” You whisper, gently running your fingers along his jaw. Matt shudders and instinctively moves into your touch. The light graze of your fingers seemed to open a flood gate. Matt needed you to touch him. He hadn’t had a gentle touch since he was a boy. The two minutes you’ve been in this room have been the most time he’s felt safe since before his father died.
“Alpha,” Matt whines twitching. He wants to touch you but fears of crossing a line. Reading his body language, you take a leap and pull him close.
Your arm slips around his waist and he takes that as a sign to give in. His head finds its way to your neck. You don’ realize you’ve been doing it but you’re purring to calm his anxieties.
Your arm tightens around his waist while your hand threads through his hair. He snuggles closer to you. He doesn’t want to hope but he can’t help it. For the first time he hopes he can get out of his kingdom. His kingdom of corruption and murder. He wasn’t a helpless omega. He tried to bring peace and squeeze out the corruption of his kingdom, but it proved to be impossible. His own family was at the heart of it all. Maybe with you he could actually have the power to change things instead of running around in a mask at night.
“Matthew,” You whisper. Matt hums pleasantly and nuzzles into your neck. “We have to talk about this,”
“I know,” He whispers back, tightening his grip around you. You smirk and shuffle him over to the comfortable love seat. You laugh softly as he straddles your lap and continues to snuggle into your neck.
“How likely is it that your king is going to end the war should we marry?” You ask.
“He will,” He whispers. “He’ll end the physical war, but he has plans to infiltrate your court. He’ll take your crown from the inside,”
“Do you want this marriage?” You ask him. “To leave your home and come to mine?”
“I do,” Matt nods, lifting his head. You couldn’t help but to lift your hand to caress his face. He leans into your touch. “If you’ll have me,”
summary: Loki thought he had his future all planned out, that was until he was introduced to a mind reading Midgardian. Will she derail everything he thought his life would be? Or will she show him the life he was meant to lead?
warning(s): angst, fluff, will update as it progresses
Macaque is the type of person to be an antagonist at first glance.
Always showing up wherever Táohuā is, ‘conveniently’ saving her from any type of harm, ect. Like he planned these things and is only doing this to make himself look good infront of her.
The truth is he attached a little shadow clone to her to keep watch over her. At first it was to find out what she liked so he could easily buy her presents he knew she would like.
But after a while he got nervous after an Assassination Attempt that happened to Táohuā and now uses the little clone to keep watch over her and lets him know when she’s in danger so that another assassination won’t happen again.
He’s not a villain. He’s just hopelessly in love and wants her to be safe.
