By Elliothawkey

My dad (Unattractive but super social) + My mom (Attractive but social) = Me (Unattractive and with social anxiety)

Finally a royalty fic by navy 💜💜 this is amazing, I'm in love!! I needed this more than I knew

Cordially Invited

Pairing: Modern Knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Female Reader Summary: You're in need of a date for an upcoming wedding. Word Count: Over 1.9k Warnings: Pining, flirting, slight feels (it's me okay), could be considered fake dating (or is it? 😏), protective Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?), future smut. A/N: Again, I need another AU like a hole in the head, but here we are. @11thstreetvigilante, thank you for letting me scream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the beautiful @whisperlullaby (thank YOU as well!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by Nix, divider by @firefly-graphics and moodboard and banner by yours truly.

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Modern royalty is both a wondrous and strange concept. As the only child of the King and Queen of Brooklyn, your parents raised you with a blend of tradition and modernization. They taught you to speak your mind while stressing to follow certain customs. You did your best to make them proud. 

The picture-perfect princess.

Except, you didn't have a prince by your side.

“Something wrong, your highness?”

You turned in your chair to look at your personal knight, James “Bucky” Barnes. Standing tall at 6’4” with a muscular build, he served as your bodyguard when he wasn’t fighting for your father. Like his father before him. You worried in the beginning that he’d resent you for having to be your personal guard, but he took his duties seriously. He watched over you as if it was an honor to do so. Though he intimidated most because of his size and strength, he displayed kindness toward you. He quickly became one of your closest confidants.

A knight in name, but a prince in my heart. 

“Nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, not moving from his spot in the left corner of your large bedroom. It was the perfect vantage point for him to see your window, the door, and you. “You dismissed your ladies for no reason, you’re not dressed for the day, and you’ve been staring at that invitation for the better part of an hour.”

You turned back toward your vanity and picked up the ornate invitation with a sigh.

Her Majesty Queen of Waverly requests the pleasure of your company at the Marriage of His Royal Highness Prince Clinton of Waverly with Her Royal Highness Princess Natalia of Volgograd.

You RSVP’d to Clint and Natasha’s wedding weeks ago and said you would bring a plus one because that was the expectation. Your parents asked every day since the invitation arrived who you planned to have on your arm. They gave you the option of choosing instead of making the decision themselves. With the wedding around the corner, you were running out of time.

“I still haven't chosen a date and my parents want an answer today."

"Forgive me for saying so, but you have been dodging the King and Queen's question."

"I know, I know. They're already disappointed that I've dragged this out."

Just like they're probably disappointed that they didn't arrange a marriage for me once I was old enough to wed. 

"I highly doubt you could do anything to disappoint them or anyone else. You’re Brooklyn’s beloved princess through and through," he said. 

Blood rushed to your cheeks as you set the invitation down. His praise felt good. "Thank you, Bucky. But why do I have to bring someone?” 

"Tradition," he replied, crossing his arms. “You know, I figured the princes would be knocking down your door at the chance to be your plus one.”

“As if you’d let them get close enough to ask,” you said. "You don't even let Sir Steven near me and he's your best friend."

As your knight, one of Bucky's duties was to keep you safe from any possible threats. He took it to the extreme. If anyone got within a few feet of you, he was there to keep them away. Most didn’t try to speak to you once they caught a glimpse of him.

“It is my job to protect you,” he reminded you. “Especially from handsy princes.”

"Does that include Prince Nicholas?" 

Bucky's jaw twitched as he nodded. It was a bit of a low blow to mention Nick’s name considering your knight couldn’t stand him. The prince was one of the few men not afraid of him. 

"Especially Prince Nicholas," he grumbled, not hiding his disdain for the man. "What gift did he send you last week?"

"An emerald necklace. I almost felt bad sending it back."

"Insulting. Doesn't he know diamonds are a girl's best friend?" 

You narrowed your eyes at him in the mirror, which made him chuckle. The sound sent a jolt between your thighs. Between that and the earlier praise, you prayed he didn’t notice how it affected you. Your knight was not only brave and trusting, but so handsome. Staring into his eyes was like getting lost at sea. Too many nights, you imagined how silky the brown strands of his hair would feel against your fingers. 

And how the scruff on his chin would feel between your legs.

“Emeralds, diamonds, it doesn't matter. You don’t let any man get close enough to give them to me themselves,” you muttered to distract yourself from getting aroused. “Some days I wonder if you take pleasure in making sure I’m alone.”

Bucky frowned as he unfolded his arms. “You think I want you to be alone?”

"You tell me. My parents want me to wed eventually, but how will that happen if you won't let any suitors near me?" you asked, toying with one of your makeup brushes to keep your hands busy. “Or are you punishing me for constantly being on babysitting duty?"

"I'm sure the right man can court you without being in close proximity to you," he said, even though he didn't sound pleased. "And we both know I want to watch over you, so why are you trying to pick a fight with me?”

You looked away, embarrassed. You had no reason to speak to him like that. But how could you admit that you didn’t want any suitors when you had him right in front of you? He wasn’t just your knight, he was everything to you. It upset you to think he didn't want you. It scared you more that he’d resign from his duties to settle down and have his own family. You didn't want that day to come.

Is it selfish that I want him forever by my side?

“I’m not trying to pick a fight,” you said, turning in your chair to face him. “And you know I don't care about any suitors. I'm just frustrated."

That includes being sexually frustrated and the toy I named after you is calling my name. 

"I'm glad you don't care about those suitors because if you married one soon, I might be out of a job."

"You're stuck with me no matter what," you smiled. "I'm sorry for being rude."

“Give me a hug, princess, and I’ll forgive you,” he said as he held out his arms.

“No,” you said, but you were already on your feet. The robe you wore didn't do much to cover your body and you wondered if you imagined the hunger in his eyes. “I don’t think you deserve a hug.”

He placed his left hand over his chest, which drew your attention to it. He lost his left arm in battle years before and the kingdom had a state of the art metal prosthetic fashioned for him. To some, it was a sign of sacrifice and bravery. It showed you that he was a fighter and survivor. 

“You wounded me with your words and you’re hurting me more by denying me a simple request.”

You fought to keep from smiling as you walked toward him. Knowing that he wanted to touch you, even in an innocent form, was a heady feeling. You wanted his touch, too. You craved it like nothing else.

“I’m only going to hug you because I love you,” you said, wrapping your arms around him once you were close enough. 

He inhaled as he hugged you close and you allowed yourself to melt in his strong embrace. It made you feel safe and cared for. “I love you, too, my princess,” he whispered. 

You closed your eyes and hid your face in his shoulder. Whenever you said you did things for him because you loved him, he always replied that he loved you, too. You dreamt of falling asleep to him whispering that in your ear.

I wish he loved me the way I love him.

“If I could, I'd be your date for the evening."

You lifted your head and pulled free from his arms as you considered his words. You couldn't stop the grin from spreading across your face. Bucky as your date? Why didn't you think of that? 

“What’s that look for?”

"Sir James, would you do me the honor of being my date to the wedding?" 

His eyebrows shot up. "You called me James."

"That should tell you how serious I am."

Please, don't reject me. I'd feel like a fool.

He cleared his throat and you tried not to feel anxious as you waited for his answer. "I’m not a prince.”

“Who said I have to bring a prince? It may be tradition for a princess to have someone on their arm for royal functions, but it should be a person of my choosing. Who better than the man my parents trust with my life?”

“But-” he began before you held up a hand to stop him.

"Isn't it your duty to serve and protect me? Your princess?" you asked.

“It is,” he answered, looking down when you took his left hand in yours.

“Bucky, I’m not just asking you as my knight. I’m asking because I want you to go with me,” you said, your voice soft as he lifted his head to look at you. "There’s no one else I’d rather go with."

You felt a slight burn in your eyes from unshed tears, but you held your head high. If he sensed your vulnerability, he kindly didn't call you out on it. You didn’t want to command him to take you nor did you want to beg.

“But if you don’t want to, I understand. I can ask Prince Nicholas instead.”

Bucky stopped you before you could turn away from him. "You'll do no such thing," he said, bringing your hand to his lips and softly kissing it. “It would be my honor to be your date, your highness."

"Really?" you smiled as he lowered your hand, but didn't let go.

"Only because I love you," he smiled back. 

Your heart raced as you playfully hit his arm, letting your touch linger. "That's my line," you teased, looking over your shoulder to check the time. "Let's go tell my parents."

"You're in your robe," he reminded you as you tried to pull him across the room. "I don't think the other guards need to see you like that."

"I'll change later," you huffed when he planted his feet firmly on the ground. A wall of muscle, he was nearly impossible to move. "Bucky."

You gasped when he gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His enormous hand could crush your bones if he chose to, but the gentle hold reminded you that you were in his care. There was no mistaking the hunger there this time. 

"Get dressed, princess," he gently ordered, his voice deeper than before. 

I'm going to have to change my panties since I'm soaking wet.

"Then we'll tell your parents."

"Yes, Bucky," you whispered as he released you, having to put some distance between the two of you. If you didn't, you'd be too tempted to kiss him. And if you kissed him, you wouldn't be able to stop.

"Good girl," he smirked, moving back to his spot in the corner as you tried to calm your pounding heart. "I'll be right here waiting."

Good girl?

You weren't sure if he was teasing you or trying to rile you up, but you could play, too.

Oh, this wedding is going to be a lot of fun. 

Let's hope it's nice and easy for them. We'll see how it goes. 😏 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

No one was charged for the murder of Breonna Taylor.

One ex-officer (who did NOT shoot Breonna Taylor) was indicted for wanton endangerment* of the life of the persons living next door after shots were blindly fired into their apartment.

(*wanton endangerment is a class D felony, the same as shoplifting or stealing mail…)

Breonna Taylor is NOT listed as a victim in the indictment.

There have been no charges made for the death of Breonna Taylor.

There is not, and will not be justice for Breonna Taylor

#NOJUSTICENOPEACE

#BLACKLIVESMATTER

When they wake up, it takes them a while to realise that they have me. I’m in their heads by then, and my wings are unfurled, the talons sunk into the brain. Groaning when they realise I’m with them, they try to go back to sleep. More sleep might be enough to drive me away, they think.

It doesn’t work like that.

Sara’s her name. Her lover whispers it when they both wake up, only minutes apart. I whisper the name, too—don’t worry, she can’t hear it—and I try to get a feel for her. Not a very expressive face, she keeps it blank and featureless. The sort of girl who’d hide inside a boring old cardigan and pretend she’s too good for fashion.

She groans louder and swivels her feet off of the bed, down to the floor.

“Bad sleep?” the partner asks.

“Headache.”

“Bad?”

“Explosive.”

That makes me smile. A lot of people just leave it at ‘headache’, like I don’t deserve any qualifiers, like I don’t deserve to be acknowledged in my uniqueness. But no, I like Sara now. I revel in her description of me, I hold the letters out on a string of gold, and I want the word tattooed onto my metaphorical forehead.

Explosive.

“Damn. I don’t wanna be you right now,” the partner mutters.

Beaming, I pulse harder and harder, beating down on the walls of the brain, breaking brick and shaking the mortar. It’s one thing to be admired by your friends, it’s another entirely to hear your enemies’ complaints. If you give them nothing to complain about, what even is the point of your existence?

“Please don’t.” Sara is dragging her feet towards the bathroom now. Her limbs feel numb. I hold on to what I’ve got.

“We’re out of pills, the painkillers, I mean.”

Sara glares at her partner. Well, she tries to, but I don’t think she quite manages. It’s enough to get the partner out of the bed, though.

“I’ll get some more from the pharmacy. You can rest easy today. You should call work, let them know you won’t make it.”

Sara has her fingers on her forehead now, and she’s rubbing her temples, rubbing her forehead, rubbing whatever part of the skin outside of her skull that she thinks I might be hiding in. It’s a pitiful attempt, if you know anything about me, about headaches in general.

“Rest easy! That’s an order, private!” the partner announces, tries to be cute.

“Just get out already!” Sara yells, and then she whines loudly, gripping her head and stumbling back towards the bed.

The partner is a little taken aback. “Sorry,” she says, and slips out of the room.

I continue to work my magic. The last one I had my talons in was an old lady who didn’t really make it all the way to the end of my tenure.

“I know you can hear me,” Sara says, and I glance up to see if her partner has returned. “Yes, you. Headache. I know you’re there.”

Releasing my hold, I stare at the end of the bed. Sara takes her hands off of her head and wraps them around her knees. “I don’t have much to say to you. Just know that you won’t make it out of my body. You won’t survive.”

“Explosive,” I whisper to myself. Was it the truth?

Cape Disappointment, Washington

Karsten Winegeart

The Oscars and Hollywood in general is just becoming a bigger joke. They will keep lose revelancy while they keep showing their biased views, a white man's career will not be over when he's accused of sexual assault but a black man slaps someone and its the end of his reputation

so the academy is reviewing whether or not to remove Will Smith’s award and here are some interesting tweets about that :)

There was something magical on their dance, something I couldn't explain and then I saw it the sun rise and... there are no words to describe it. It was truly magical, the most beautiful thing I had ever see.

I still don't know why they were dancing or if they do that every single day, I never searched it and I never asked I don't want to know the answer, but while looking at that amazing sight I like to image that all those druids that go there since so long ago, centuries ago, do that every morning until the sun rise to make sure the sun will keep rising every day until the end of times!

Fairy flowers appreciation post