➳summary: When your best friends Peter, MJ, and Ned drag you along to a concert, you never expected to fall head over heels with the band, more so the drummer. Wild and erotic, Bucky Barnes is a rich rock star who gets everything handed to him. Between the money, fame, and platinum records, he has a nasty reputation. But when an innocent girl like you comes along, he can’t stay away.
➳pairing: rockstar!Bucky Barnes x College!Reader
➳warnings: features heavy angst, drug abuse, drinking, partying, cheating
➳summary: When your best friends Peter, MJ, and Ned drag you along to a concert, you never expected to fall head over heels with the band, more so the drummer. Wild and erotic, Bucky Barnes is a rich rock star who gets everything handed to him. Between the money, fame, and platinum records, he has a nasty reputation. But when an innocent girl like you comes along, he can’t stay away.
➳pairing: rockstar!Bucky Barnes x College!Reader
➳warnings: features heavy angst, drug abuse, drinking, partying, cheating
“Bucky?” You called his name groggily as you felt him slip underneath the sheets of the California king-sized bed.
“Shh,”Bucky shushed you and you closed your eyes, snuggling back into the warmth that the blankets provided. The bed began to dip and curve, soon a pair of strong tattooed hands were wrapping around your thighs and pushing them apart. Before you could recognize what was happening, a pair of warm lips started to press kisses to the innermost parts of your thighs, bringing you to gasp.
That was when you realized what had happened. You and Bucky had stayed up practically all night, playing catch-up. It had been officially a week since he left rehab and his entire demeanor had shifted. He was a completely different person; a better man. He was a joy to be around and the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off one another.
Last night was a blur.Of course, no alcohol or drugs had been intermixed, but it was the simple high you two felt off each other. Bucky and you were camped out in his built-in studio, where he attempted to teach you how to play drums. What surprised him the most was the fact that you could play piano and sing, which started turning the creative gears in his mind.
One thing led to another, and a few take-out boxes later, the two of you were settled in a bath filled with warm water and luxury bubbles. You were seated in front of each other, your hands rested on his thighs while he used his thumbs to stroke the length of your hips.
“Thank you for staying,” Bucky whispered to you as you focused on his face.
You giggled, leaning forward to brush your lips across his. Soon, he was pulling you into his lap, warm water sloshing around your naked bodies. He savored every moment he had with you, understanding that life was soshort, that he had to live it to every advantage. He wanted to experience every single high and low with you, no matter what they may be.
“Bucky, I’m proud of you. I can’t ever say it enough.” You smiled, kissing him passionately. When the two of you finally emerged from the bath, you changed into one of his shirts and a pair of underwear, both of you hopping into bed together. You were digging into a container of gelato together, deciding to share the spoon.
You spoonfed him a mouthful of the cold delicacy, watching as Bucky’s eyes rolled at the taste. “You know, without being doped up all the time… I think my senses got stronger? Everything tastes and smells better,” He laughed, kissing you on the cheek with a pair of cold lips.
You giggled loudly as Bucky took the spoon away from you so he could feed you. When you purposely made him miss your mouth and allowed the cold dessert to drip down the corner of your mouth, Bucky’s eyes widened.
“Baby girl,” He whispered huskily.
You smiled, licking your lips. The light in Bucky’s head suddenly turned green and he pounced on you, removing the container of gelato from your hands and throwing the spoon into it. Soon, the drummer had you pinned beneath him as he flicked his tongue over the running gelato, your insides churning. A soft moan ricocheted through the air as Bucky pinned your hands above your head while he kissed your neck, paying close attention to every inch of your exposed neck.
Your hips bucked upwards to meet his, Bucky growling in response. Soon, he was stripping you from his shirt that donned your body, his hands exploring your flesh until you were given over to the heightened pleasure that only Bucky could offer in the moonlight.
Now? You were stirring awake this morning, feeling as his tongue licked a surprising stripe against your heat. A gasp fell from your mouth as you immediately reached to your sides to clutch the sheets. Bucky hummed, sending pleasurable vibrations through your core that somehow managed to shimmy up your spine.
“Oh, Bucky!” You groaned heavily as his lips wrapped around your sensitive bundle of nerves, giving it a delicate suck. He threw your legs over his shoulders and buried his face in between your legs, the light burn of his stubble brushing across your core bringing you to echo a scream.
Bucky used your words as a means to pinpoint. Using his ringed fingers, he pushed two of them into your spongy walls, your insides capturing him immediately. Your head lowered to rest on his head where you curled your fingers around the strands of hair and tugged, earning a delighted groan from your lover’s mouth as he licked into your folds while scissoring his fingers.
Your breaths were coming out in pants as Bucky pushed you over the edge, his name being screamed relentlessly into the air of your shared bedroom. He gripped his hands around your thighs and coaxed a few orgasms out of you, bringing you to the point of overstimulation. You were nearly having to push yourself away from his mouth, but he could see the intense pleasure he brought over you, and it only made him press harder.
He came off your heat with an audible pop before he crawled up the length of your body. Lowering his head, the strands of his jet-black hair tickled your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down. Bucky kissed you long and slow, his tongue touching yours for a passionate exchange. You groaned sweetly into his mouth as you tasted your release which coated his tongue, his large palm slipping underneath your back.
Bucky flipped the two of you over so you were straddling his waist, his hand tangling through your hair as he kept you close. Your hips rolled into his, a sticky mess between your legs where his mouth and fingers once were. He felt it on his abdomen and it made him smile wickedly.
“Good morning,” Bucky winked, his blue orbs vibrant and full of life.
“Good morning,” You whispered, lowering your head to his chest. You laid on top of him, your exposed skin pressed together as you hummed while he drew circles into your backside. Bucky held you close as his eyes looked out the large window of his bedroom, watching as the light and view of the ocean met his eyes.
“So, I have a surprise for us…” Bucky announced after silence brewed. Your eyebrows pinched together as you lifted your head.
“A surprise?” You laughed.
Bucky nodded. “We’re getting on a plane tomorrow morning,” He informed you, causing your eyes to widen.
“Tomorrow?!”You exclaimed. Bucky smiled and nodded again.
“It’s a part of my redemption plan,” He breathed out. You looked at him questionably.
“Redemption plan?” You repeated.
Bucky laughed, twirling his fingers across your warm skin. “I think before you start back up with classes, we just need a vacation for ourselves. And since the tour isn’t happening anymore, my time slot has been freed.” He explained.
“Where are we going?” You asked with a hint of excitement lacing your voice. Bucky rolled his eyes playfully and kissed your forehead.
“It’s not a surprise if I tell you!” He reminded you.
“But I hate surprises!” You shot back.
Bucky shook his head. “You’ll be fine until tomorrow morning.”
You sighed heavily. “You’re so mean for that…” You trailed with a smirk. Bucky shrugged his shoulders and planted another kiss on your lips.
“But you love me,” He laughed.
“Yes I do, Barnes…. Yes, I do…” You smiled back at him. “But speaking of surprises, I have one for you, too… We’ll be leaving within the next two hours, so we better get dressed.”
“What is it?” Bucky asked.
You scoffed, choosing to repeat his words. “It’s not a surprise if I tell you!” You winked, rolling off him. You extended your hands and wiggled your hips. “Have a shower with me?” You smiled.
Bucky was flinging himself out of the sheets and racing in behind you, his hands wrapped around your hips. The two of you showered together which also resulted in sex against the wall, but it was worth it. The two of you stepped out, high on your own adrenaline, hurrying to get dressed. You put on a cute yellow sundress while Bucky resorted to his jeans, a gray t-shirt, and his belt. His tattooed arms exposed, you couldn’t help but run your fingers down the length of his arms before pulling him for a delicate kiss.
You two were soon in the car, you asking to drive. You entered the address to the restaurant you were taking him to, his surprise waiting there with nervousness building in the pit of their stomachs.
Bucky and you listened to some of Civil War’s music before you opened up your playlist. Kickstart My Heart by Mötley Crüe played and you shot Bucky a mischievous look.
“That should’ve been your theme song when they pumped those two shots of adrenaline into your heart… Get it? It kickstarted your heart?” You teased behind the wheel of your Ferrari that was purchased the night you two got married, which had been delivered to California.
“Do you think you’re funny?” Bucky asked seriously.
You glanced between him and the radio, soon singing the lyrics while adding a small “Ba-dum tsssss,” For extra hilarity that finally made Bucky burst at the seams.
“I hate you but I love you at the same time, Doll,” Bucky laughed.
You giggled with the sunglasses over your eyes. “I love you too,” You smiled.
Soon, the two of you pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. Bucky’s eyebrows pinched together as he looked around at his surroundings.
“What are we doing here?”He laughed.
You walked around and grabbed his hand.
“There are a few people who want to see you,” You answered quietly, Bucky’s eyes lifting.
As you walked inside, Bucky’s eyes drifted. You saw the table ahead and you smiled to yourself, leading him over. While you approached, they all turned their heads. Bucky’s eyes grew wide as he recognized the three individuals seated at the table.
“Mom? Dad? Becca?” Bucky called their names.
Winnifred, George, and Rebecca Barnes all shifted their eyes up to their son and brother, Winnifred’s eyes brimming with tears. George stood to his feet, Rebecca doing the same.
And for the first time in years, Bucky was engulfed in a hug from his mother, father, and sister. He couldn’t help but burst into tears as he melted into their touch, Rebecca shooting you a smile as she rubbed her brother’s back comfortingly.
➳a/n: MY HEARTTTT! I’M FREAKING OBSESSED WITH THIS CHAPTER AHHH!
➳summary: When your best friends Peter, MJ, and Ned drag you along to a concert, you never expected to fall head over heels with the band, more so the drummer. Wild and erotic, Bucky Barnes is a rich rock star who gets everything handed to him. Between the money, fame, and platinum records, he has a nasty reputation. But when an innocent girl like you comes along, he can’t stay away.
➳pairing: rockstar!Bucky Barnes x College!Reader
➳warnings: features heavy angst, drug abuse, drinking, partying, cheating
➳a/n: MY HEARTTTT! I’M FREAKING OBSESSED WITH THIS CHAPTER AHHH!
➳summary: When your best friends Peter, MJ, and Ned drag you along to a concert, you never expected to fall head over heels with the band, more so the drummer. Wild and erotic, Bucky Barnes is a rich rock star who gets everything handed to him. Between the money, fame, and platinum records, he has a nasty reputation. But when an innocent girl like you comes along, he can’t stay away.
➳pairing: rockstar!Bucky Barnes x College!Reader
➳warnings: features heavy angst, drug abuse, drinking, partying, cheating
I can’t believe it. Today marks freedom. I’ve been in this rehab facility for exactly one month and while many days I nearly ripped my hair out when the cravings got so bad, I discovered resilience. It made it a touch easier knowing that Sam and Steve were here too alongside me fighting off their own addictions, but we all know between the three of us; I was the worst. After all, it took me being clinically dead for two minutes and two syringes of adrenaline to the chest.
I haven’t spoken to Y/N since giving my life over to the faculty. However, I did bring this journal with me and although Y/N never mentioned to do it, I decided to journal my thoughts. My own personal diary of my account. Maybe one day I can help those who have also struggled with addiction. But for now, my main concern is getting better not only for the wife who I hope doesn’t decide to seal our fate with a divorce, but for myself. I can’t keep living like this.
I’ve realized that I want more in my life than platinum records and adoring fans. I want a family. I want to be an inspiration for people, not someone who they looked to in remembrance of dirty deeds. I’ve thought about Zemo a lot. He was my friend and while I wished things would have turned out better for him, I’m one of the lucky few who received a second chance in life. At first, I wasn’t sure why someone like me was being offered that second chance, until I realized;
Y/N. I’ve discovered that I’m head over heels in love with her and even if she doesn’t choose to stay with me, I won’t be angry. I’ve put her through so much hell the last three months that I wouldn’t want to be with me either. I’ve never been more ready to see a woman in my entire life. First, I want my relationship with her repaired and then I’ll hopefully make amends with others who I’ve hurt on this dangerous path.
My parents.
My sister.
Sobriety is going to be a big change for me, but a change that’ll be worth it in the end. I understand the consequence of my actions and now, I want to repair the damage.
“Bucky, are you ready?” The friendly nurse smiled in his direction as she knocked on the door. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt along with his leather jacket. His raven locks of hair had grown out a touch and he reminded himself to get a haircut once he was settled in at home.
“You bet… Thanks for all you’ve done, Sarah.” Bucky smiled at her as he stood to his feet. As he walked out of the room, he was reunited with Steve and Sam. They both had brightened eyes and a look of relief covering their faces.
“How are you feeling, Buck?” Steve asked as he realized all the color in Bucky’s face had returned.
Bucky nodded his head. “I feel like a brand new man.” He said, clasping the blonde on the shoulder. As they began their journey to the front door while the faculty congratulated them on graduating from rehab, they all broke out into solid grins. While they embarked for the door, you and Natasha were waiting outside for them to emerge.
“I’m nervous… I haven’t seen him in a month.”You whispered, feeling as your palms were coated with a sweat. You stood outside of the rehab center where Bucky had driven himself to after getting out of the hopsital for his overdose. Your nerves were jumbled and you just hoped that this was the beginning of a new chapter.
“It’ll be okay,” Nat smiled, rubbing your shoulder as she watched the doors like a hawk. You drew in a deep breath as you rolled onto the balls of your feet and back down, your insides twisting with a nauseating feeling.
Praying that she was right, you closed your eyes. Suddenly, the sound of the automatic doors separating caught your attention. Natasha’s hand tightened on your shoulder as she saw Steve and Sam pushed their way forward, wearing big smiles.
You reopened your eyes and your heart fluttered intensely in your chest when your eyes rested on him.He looked so much different.The color had returned to his face, the dark circles vanished. His eyes scanned the area, obviously in search for you. When they landed on you, Bucky released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Tears welled in your eyes at the sight of him. Bucky also felt his blue orbs glisten with tears and his chest jumped violently. His heart was thrown into overdrive as he craved to hold you. You watched when he started to quicken his steps, you doing the same. Not able to contain it any longer, you sprinted. Bucky gasped when he saw you running toward him at full-speed.
Opening his arms, Bucky caught you as you jumped into them. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he gripped onto you. His face buried into your neck, both of you started to cry in each other’s embrace.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Bucky called out, kissing your neck.
You clung onto him tighter as his arms held you close to him. “I’ve missed you too,” You whispered pulling back. Bucky’s eyes scanned your face and you couldn’t wait any longer. Holding his cheek, you leaned in and kissed him deeply.
Bucky was shocked at first, but he melted into your lips. You kissed him harder and it seemed as if time around you stood still. As you finally gained the courage to pull away for a breath of air, you licked your lips and stared at him. Bucky had a lot on his mind and while he was gone for a month, he decided that you deserved much better.
“How do you feel?” You asked him quietly.
Bucky nodded. “It was rough… But I pulled through. Each day got a little better. I had you on my mind the entire time.”
You smiled widely, nodding. “I’m so proud of you,” You whispered.
Bucky laughed, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so ready to go home,” He breathed out. You nodded your head, allowing him to set you on the ground. You pulled out the keys to his Ferrari which you had driven and passed them over.
“Lead the way, drummer,” You smiled, wrapping your arm around his waist. Bucky laughed, kissing your cheek as he led the two of you over to the car. He pulled open the passenger’s side door, making you squeal. Rushing to the driver’s side, he was soon putting the top down and flashing you a wide grin.
Just as he started the drive, you leaned over and kissed him softly. “I love you,” You told him. Bucky’s heart sped up.
“I love you too,” He smiled, kissing you back.
Soon, the two of you were winding down the road towards his home in Malibu.You had been staying in the home. Bucky informed someone to give you the keys to the house and make it yours.You had less than a month left before you would have to return to Brooklyn for college, yet you were somewhat dreadingit.
“What are you thinking about?” Bucky asked, turning the radio down low.
You bit into your lip. “Classes start back up next month,” You cleared your throat. “Ned, Peter, and MJ went to Spain.”
Bucky’s eyes widened. He remembered how you were supposed to do the same before he convinced you to join the tour.
“Doll, why didn’t you go?” He asked.
You looked at him through your eyelashes. “Because I wanted to be here for when you got out of rehab.” You informed him honestly.
Bucky’s heart swelled at your revelation. “And honestly? I love California,” You breathed out. “…Also, turns out that I get to graduate a semester early. So instead of fall of next year, I’ll walk for my degree in May of next year. So, two more semesters and I’m finished… Which they’re letting me go online for.”
Bucky’s eyes lit up. “What are you trying to say to me?” He laughed.
You smiled, wrapping your hand through his. “I’m saying that… I want to work on us.I’ve had a lot of time to think about the last two months, and I want to do things right.So, I’m staying in California… If you’ll have me.”
Bucky grinned. “Baby, I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He announced.
When the drive ended and you two were parked in front of the Malibu mansion, you and Bucky hurried your way inside. As he made it through the front door, he stopped in his tracks. To his recollection, he hadn’t stepped foot inside of his home since before the tour started. It was a bittersweet moment for him, one that he had to take a second to himself for. And when he looked over to see his wife standing there, he bit his lip.
“What?” You giggled as you walked forward.
Bucky shook his head. “It’s just surreal to see you standing inside of this place with me.” He shrugged.
You grinned. “Well, I’ve done a little bit of redecorating. Natasha’s helped keep me occupied when I tried to run myself crazy over you.” You giggled. “New curtains… I may have ordered a new bed for your room… Or, our room. Bucky, this place is gorgeous. Everything about it, I love it.” You expressed.
Bucky smiled proudly. As he walked through, he remembered that alcohol was in the fridge. You noticed the way he eyed the appliance and you quickly cleared your throat.
“I got rid of it all,” You announced.
Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
You nodded. “Every ounce of alcohol in the house both hidden and in plain sight, it’s gone. I scoped out the entire house. You’re okay.”
Bucky felt his heart swell in his chest.
“How did I get so lucky?” He asked quietly.
Laughing, you shook your head. “I want to make this work, Bucky. And it’s going to take us becoming a team.I stopped drinking, too. It’s not fair to you if I participate in it.”
Bucky couldn’t contain himself any longer. He walked forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in tight. You gasped when his lips found yours, giving you a very passionate kiss. You moaned softly into his mouth, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck. Curling your fingers around the strands of his hair, you smiled against his lips.
“Come on! I want to show you what all I’ve done!” You squealed, grabbing his hand.
Bucky burst out laughing, tanging his hand through yours.
He was hooked. He was so in love.
And now he was on a mission to make it all right again…
Summary: Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.
Word count: 5.9k
Warnings: Angst, Mentions of alcohol/drinking, Explicit language, Descriptions of minor injury
a/n:This one’s a doozy. Also thank you @barnesafterglow for beta reading :*
After years and years of being a star baseball player, he was used to the crowd. He was used to the screaming and the announcers and the music. Normally, he could tune it all out—focus in on the warmup and his teammates. It didn’t take much effort; he’d had lots of practice after all.
But tonight, Bucky couldn’t hear a single thing, and it was because you weren’t there.
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.
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers Summary: Bucky and Steve brand their best girl. Word Count: Over 6.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), spitroasting, threesome, dirty talk, tension, possessive behavior, porn with feels (it’s me, c’mon), tattooed Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers (they’re warnings, okay?) A/N: Welcome back to my tattoo AU! Have you missed them? I know I have! Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Thank you, lovely! Banner created by yours truly, but Bucky and Steve photos were provided by the talented @nix-akimbo ! This AU wouldn’t exist without them. Divider by the beautiful @firefly-graphics and banners by the lovely @vase-of-lilies. And thanks to @lookiamtryingand@drabblewithfrannybarnes for our new reader nickname.
Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please comment and reblog as it means the world!
It was a beautiful day as you sat between Bucky and Steve in Thor’s truck, gazing through the windshield as the three of you drove through town. The boys had just finished setting up your new dining room table and Thor was kind enough to let them use his truck to pick it up and deliver it from the store. Ever since you moved into their place, they had done everything in their power to make the place more like your own. That included upgrading some of the furniture, which you tried to talk them out of in the beginning. You didn’t want them turning their home upside down for you. They, of course, argued that it was your home now, too.
NAVYYYY I’m a mess right now! In more ways than one but I feel like that’s to be expected with your stories hehe. I love this trio so much and watching their relationship grow has been amazing. I literally started crying when they started talking about what she meant to them and the tattoos and then the whole ending, I fucking melted I also really like the way you incorporate what she’s thinking too, showing her excitement and fear and nerves, I think it’s great! AHHHHHHHH I’M A WRECKKKKK
Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Feelings come to light in the most fitting way. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Pining, fluff, insecurities, feels, idiots in love admitting how they feel (is that a warning?), roommate!Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?), Alpine still being the best cat ever A/N: Hey, lovelies! We finally get to see how Stud and Smartie get together. And to me, it’s just right. Beta read by the beautiful @maladaptivexxdaydreaming, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by the talented @vase-of-lilies. Moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!
The sound of the clock ticking in the quiet apartment taunted you as you sat on the couch. You matched the timing to the rhythm of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” without realizing it until you heard yourself humming the tune. Ever since that night in the kitchen, you found yourself playing the song on repeat when you were alone. You wished you could dance with Bucky every night. It would be a dream come true.
I’m all in my feels today and I’m not gonna lie this made me tear up. It was so sweet and lovely. I love when he started telling her about the “book”, my heart just melted I love these two so much and the puzzle idea was perfect for them! This was amazing, Navy!
Aye second one-shot!! I’ve been inspired to write this by the song ‘Your new Boyfriend” by Wilbur Soot. My friends recommended me this song and I love this song so much. I’ve rushed this story so sorry if it flopped down in the middle of the one-shot as it’s getting late for me heh
Pairing:Bucky Barnes x fem!reader AU
Warnings: fluff, references and rambling Bucky :)
Words: 551
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You and Bucky are in a relationship, online. You met Bucky through a yours and his mutual friends via Discord. This has been going on for 6 happy months. Bad part is, Bucky lives on the other side of the world from you. Luckily, you and Bucky spend your time in voice chats and video calls with friends or for most times, just the two of you.
Tonight was one of those nights where you would join him in a video call. It is currently around the afternoon for Bucky, and almost midnight for you. You rested on your bed, waiting for his profile to pop up. As you were chatting in a server about if pineapples belong on pizza, a profile has popped in above all your servers. You clicked on his profile right away, reading his message.
BuckyBarnes#0107:good morning, or afternoon heh
Y/N#0000: hey baby how was your morning run?
BuckyBarnes#0107:oh it was alright, just taking a break right now. are you gonna sleep soon babe?
Y/N#0000:mhmmm I’ll sleep if I get to hear your or see you beforei sleep for the night. But I won’t be able to talk to you tonight :(
BuckyBarnes#0107: oh so you wanna listen to what I’ve seen at my run do you?
Then a ring tone alerts you as Bucky is waiting for you to pick up the video call. You press on the button to enter the call and there he was, staring into you with his sky blue eyes, grey cap, headphones hanging around his neck and a dark royal blue shirt.
You flustered on the sight that you are observing in your screen. Bucky could say the same for you when he saw you on his screen. He was on his way home. Bucky then goes on about his morning and what he saw during his run with his soothing voice. So soothing, that it could make anyone sleep like a baby. By the time then, he was already home, plopping himself down onto the daybed like, $5000 couch that his other online friend Sam who lives on the other side of the country has described to you, as Bucky tries to deny his accusation that Sam has been to his place before (if you get the reference ily <3).
When Bucky asked you a question, since you can’t reply verbally, you move the screen out of full screen to type out your response and typed out your answer in each other’s DMs. Time goes by as your eyes start to droop down, slowly closing your eyelids, loosing your grip to the phone being placed standing on a water bottle on the nightstand. Bucky still rambles on about buying a new kitten to adopt, describing its features, not knowing you were out like a light.
The soft snores coming out of your mouth disrupt his rambles as he stares at you adorably. Bucky was debating if he should end the call or keep the chat going while being muted to not disrupt your slumber. a soft smile appears on his face thinking how lucky he was to find you and be with him. Plopping into his bedroom, he places his phone next to him listening to your snores filling his ears up after a tiring morning.
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if you reached the end, tysm for reading my writing! :)
I have been having the worst time with trying to write lately. I asked for some requests and got a pretty good response. An anonymous ask suggested this:
I wanted to write this But I think you could do it justice if you’re into the theme but it’s basically based on the reader being a princess and her guard being her confidant, Like the bodyguard they’ve confessed love tho but it’s still forbidden. There’s a scene in a story I just can’t remember, they torture him in the front of everyone to see as a punishment for smthn? he makes no sound coz the reader is there so she leaves but sneaks out later to him still hurt and tied and then good ol h/c.
And this is what became of that ask.
WARNINGS:THIS IS AN AU; this is set in medieval-ish times, so outdated and F’ed up thoughts and actions towards women will occur; royalty au, forced engagement/wedding, abusive relationship, public whipping, fevers, painful wound cleansing, suicidal thoughts, aborted suicide attempt, magic PAIRING: Princess Reader x Guard Bucky Barnes WORD COUNT: 11,000ish WRITING IN THE DARK BINGO FILL: Royal AU BAD THINGS HAPPEN BINGO FILL:Fevers AUTHOR’S NOTE: Title taken from “ivy,” by Taylor Swift Specifically the line“Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand.”
Near silent footsteps grew closer to the tree just past the garden. A smile played at his lips as he followed the trail of dainty footprints that stopped at the base of the tree. He slowly looked from left to right, turning to lean against the trunk of the tree, crossing his arms over his massive chest and speaking low.
“I know you’re up there.”
He laughed when an acorn popped him on the head. He let his arms fall and tilted his head back, dark hair falling off his shoulders with the movement. There you were, looking up, refusing to look his way.
“Come on, now. He’ll be here any minute.” “I don’t care about him.” “I know you don’t, but he could be a good one.”
You glanced his way then, long enough to make eye contact and narrow your eyes at him before you looked away again.
“That’s what you said about the last two.” “Prince Samuel was a good man, even if he did get on my nerves.” “But you were wrong about Prince Anthony.”
He nodded.
“That guy was a prick.”
You giggled, looking down as he looked up. His lips lifted in a crooked smile as he raised a hand. You sighed, shimmying down a little until he could reach you, taking hold of your waist and lowering you from the tree.
“There we go.”
You stayed close to him once he set your feet on the ground, hands gently brushing the tree debris from your gown. He made no movements away from you and you looked up into kind, icy blue eyes, your chin nearly brushing his chest as you spoke just above a whisper.
“I don’t want to marry them, Bucky.” “I know, Princess.” “Why can’t I just marry you?”
Bucky ignored the twinge in his heart, forcing a sad smile onto his face as he let his fingers trail over your cheek.
“I’m just a lowly guard, your grace. You deserve only the finest of princes.”
You shook your head, eyes drawn to your family crest pinned at Bucky’s chest.
“I don’t know, being solely responsible for the safety of the Princess is worthy of some nobility, isn’t it?”
Bucky smiled for real this time as you met his eyes.
“No one has ever accused me of being noble, my lady.”
You smiled, giving a laugh under your breath before he offered you his arm. You sighed again, looping your arm through his, laying your other hand on his thick bicep as the two of you slowly began to walk back to the castle.
“I feel as if we’re on a death march.” “You can’t look at it that way, my lady. He could be the love of your life.”
You swallowed hard, not realizing as you pulled Bucky closer.
“Who is he again?” “Prince John. A man worthy of you, according to the legends surrounding him.” “What legends?” “He’s defended his kingdom more than once. His father died during one of his battles and John saved the kingdom before returning home.” “So is he the king or a prince?”
Bucky let go of your arm, stepping over a small ravine. There was a fallen tree stretched across the ravine, one you’d hurried over on your way into the woods and up your tree. Bucky held out a hand and you grasped it tightly, lifting the skirts of your gown as you walked over the tree. Once you were safely to the other side, Bucky offered you his arm again.
“Technically he’s king, but he hasn’t had a coronation yet. His kingdom’s laws say the prince must be married first.” “And that’s where I come in.”
You stopped suddenly, dragged forward the slightest bit when Bucky hadn’t realized you weren’t walking with him. He dropped your arm and started to apologize, but you shook your head. He stood before you and you laid your hands on his shoulders, Bucky hunching over enough for you to reach him.
“I don’t want to marry someone just because it would be a good, strategic move for the kingdom. I want to marry forlove.” “I know, my lady. But couldn’t you grow to love him?”
You stared into those icy eyes, biting back the words on the tip of your tongue.
How can I, when I love you so?
You blinked, shaking your head. Bucky smiled, rolling his shoulder to make your hand fall, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the back of your palm, tucking your hand through his arm once more.
“I’m sure the Queen is wondering where you’ve run off to.” “She should know by now.”
Bucky’s smile widened as he thought to the first time he’d caught you in the tree. Your parents had arranged for Prince Ikaris, a boy you’d grown up playing in the woods with, to come and spend the summer. Only once the days shortened did they tell you that he was there as your suitor, and you’d end the year betrothed.
You’d stayed in the tree until your father ordered the tree cut down to get you out of it, and only by Bucky carrying you back to the castle did you relent.
It seems that Ikaris was only the first in a line of suitors, none deeming you worthy enough to play along with your antics. You were sure Prince Anthony had figured you out, and the wink he’d given you as he kissed your hand during his goodbye only cemented your belief.
No, the only constant through the parade of princes was Bucky, the one who’d sworn to protect you with his life when you were barely a teenager, and he barely a man. He’d kept his word, staying by your side through every attack on the kingdom. While seldom, the attacks did still come, and instead of fighting on the front lines, Bucky stayed at your side.
He also stayed by your side through every cold and fever and illness, keeping you in his sights through every lesson, every ball, staying outside your bedroom while you slept. You weren’t sure when he slept, but every time you needed him, he was by your side.
“Here we are.”
You looked up at the castle before you, glancing up at Bucky. He laid his other hand on the one you had currently gripping his arm.
“It will be fine, Princess. John will be a good man. He’ll be the one.”
You swallowed, pushing a smile on your face and nodding.
Even though you both knew it was a lie.
You paced the sitting room, skirts swishing as you walked. The words you muttered didn’t make sense, but you couldn’t sit still and you couldn’t be quiet. You didn’t look up at the knock on the door, your mother huffing out a breath when the door opened.
“Thank goodness. Talk some sense into her before she sends us all to an early grave!”
You rolled your eyes as you continued your pacing, stopping only when you saw the shiny boots step into your path. You lifted your head, closing your eyes with a relieved sigh when you saw the one constant in your life.
“Bucky.”
You laid your hands on his arms and he led you to the bench where your mother had been sitting. He sat beside you and you shook your head, taking hold of his hands.
“I hate him.” “You don’t know him.” “And I don’t want to!”
You shook your head, body vibrating along with it.
“There’s something about him … I can’t. I won’t marry him.” “You have to give him a chance, Princess.” “I did!” “No, you haven’t.”
You squeezed Bucky’s hands and he shifted closer to you.
“Just talk to him. Get to know him.” “I don’t want to get to know him!” “I know, but you have to.”
You lifted your eyes to his, seeing the pain in his eyes.
“What?”
Bucky looked down at your hands and you shook your head, giving his hands a squeeze until he lifted his head again.
“Bucky, what?” “Your father will force this marriage to happen.”
Your eyes widened, hands falling from Bucky’s. You shook your head, but he nodded his.
“You don’t have a choice anymore, my lady. You will marry Prince John.” “No, he … Father wouldn’t do that.” “He would. He will. Uniting John’s kingdom with ours would be a brilliant strategic move.”
You slowly nodded.
“Whatever is best for the kingdom.”
You stood on shaky legs, walking away from Bucky. He stood, the sword at his side softly clanging as he walked towards you. You stopped and lifted a shaky hand to your lips, closing your eyes as Bucky came to a stop behind you, his warmth surrounding you.
“Give him a chance, my lady. Get to know him.” “I don’t love him.” “You’ll learn to love him.”
You turned quickly, grabbing Bucky’s elbows. You watched his nostrils flare as his hands went to your waist, steadying you. His hands didn’t move from you, the warmth of his fingers burning you like a brand. You stepped closer, watching his eyes flash as he stayed still, a quiet gasp leaving your lips as his fingers flexed on your hips. The two of you stared at each other until you leaned even closer, your near silent voice echoing in the small space between you.
“I’llneverlove him.”
Bucky had made you promise to give Prince John a try, so you did. Sitting beside him at meals, strolling through the grounds with him. Standing at the entrance to the smelly barn as he brushed his horse and regaled you with tales of battle.
You couldn’t stand the man.
Bucky kept his distance when you were with John, brushing off the prince’s insistence that you were more than safe with him and Bucky could take the time off. Bucky politely declined, giving you and John space while still following you.
Now, you were on yet another stroll through the castle grounds, arm through John’s at his insistence, Bucky following a dozen paces behind.
“Is he always like this?”
You glanced over your shoulder, a soft smile crossing your lips.
“He’s duty-bound to protect me.” “And he’s always around you? Even in your private chamber?” “Well, of course not. He stays outside the door.”
John clicked his tongue, much the same way he did with the horses. The sound was grating to your ears and he shook his head.
“That’ll be the first thing to go.”
You blinked.
“I beg your pardon?”
John gave you a patronizing smile.
“When you’re my wife, you won’t need a bodyguard. I’ll protect you.” “I would think as the Queen, you’d want as much protection around me as you can get.” “Of course, your grace. But I have my own men I’ll put in that position.”
You blinked a few times.
“I’ve known B—“
You cleared your throat.
“James my whole life. I trust him and I know he will protect me, no matter the cost.” “Well, I don’t need him.” “Youmay not, butIdo.” “You’ll need what I say you’ll need.”
You stopped, and John gave a hard exhale when you tugged at his arm.
“Come on. I’m tired of dealing with your attitude.” “I hate to break it to you, but the attitude stays.”
John gave a laugh, turning to stand in front of you and glaring down at you.
“I’ll fuck that attitude right out of you. Now do as I say.”
He grabbed your arm tightly and harshly pulled you forward, causing you to stumble. A warm hand grasped yours, the other on your waist as you were righted a moment before you were standing behind the wall of Bucky.
“I swear to God, if you touch her again—“ “I didn’t do anything.” “I watched you. I heard you.”
John laughed.
“And what will you do, guard? You think you can undermine the king?” “You’re not the king yet.”
John lifted his chin, a wicked smile coming to his lips as he stared at Bucky, glancing to see you peeking around Bucky’s wide frame before he spoke again.
“We’ll see about that.”
You sat up in bed at the sudden commotion outside your chamber. You pushed back the blankets and grabbed your robe, pulling it around you as you flung open the door. Guards wearing Prince John’s family crest were surrounding Bucky, trying to put his hands in shackles.
“What’s happening? What is this?” “Princess, go back inside.”
You shook your head at Bucky, reaching for him, gasping when a fist flew out, catching Bucky on the chin. He went to his knees with a groan, hands quickly shackled behind his back.
“Unhand him. Let him go!” “Orders of the Prince. Go back inside, my lady.” “No, I demand you let him go!”
Before a burly guard could force you back into your chamber, a hand reached out, placed in the center of the guard’s chest. The guard gave a nod, and Bucky was carried away. You turned quickly to see one of Bucky’s closest friends at your side.
“Steve, what’s happening?”
Steve sighed, gently ushering you back into your chamber.
“John put out the order. Said Bucky threatened him, threatened you. He’s going to use him to teach a lesson.” “Bucky didn’t threaten him. And he would never hurt me—“ “I know. I know, your grace, but I couldn’t go against the Prince.”
You looked in the direction that they’d taken Bucky, your heart feeling as if it were in your throat.
“What will he do to him?”
Steve’s eyes were cast down when you looked back to him, and you covered your mouth with your hand. Your hand drifted to your throat, as you spoke the words that burned like acid in your mouth.
“Will he kill him?” “I don’t think so.”
You closed your eyes, Steve’s quiet words slicing through your heart.
“But there are things worse than death.”
You opened your eyes again, knowing that despite the late hour, sleep would not come for you tonight.
John smiled as he adjusted the armor on his arms.
“Where is she?”
He glanced to see Steve at the doorway, who bowed his head.
“She’s coming, your grace.” “Good. I want to be sure she watches closely.”
Steve nodded, eyes cast to the ground. His eyes flicked up when he heard your gown swishing as you walked, clenching his jaw before he turned his head.
“She’s here, your highness.” “Excellent.”
John turned to see you in the doorway. Your eyes seemed tired, as if you hadn’t gotten enough sleep. John smiled, knowing his plan had worked.
“My Queen. Let’s take a walk.”
You glanced away when he was near, biting back a groan when he grabbed your chin and held it tightly as he kissed your cheek. He grabbed your arm and placed it through his own, pulling you forward.
“There’s something you need to learn. I’ve spoken with Samuel and Thor and Ikaris. I even wrote to Anthony, but I never received a response.”
You bit your lip to hide the smile at that.
“They all said the same thing. That you weren’t worth the time.”
You schooled your face into a calm, cool facade. You weren’t going to let his words get to you.
“Honestly, Princess? I have to agree with them.”
You clenched your teeth together as he went on.
“You may not be worth it, but your kingdom is. Well, your father’s kingdom. Let’s not pretend it would ever be yours.”
You straightened your spine, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.
“But I can’t get the kingdom without you, so I guess we both just have to grin and bear it. But here’s the thing, sweetheart.” “Don’t call me that.”
John maneuvered your hand to where he was grasping it, squeezing so tightly you felt your bones grind together. You yelped at the sudden burn of pain and John sneered at you.
“Remember your place, Princess. I will be your husband and your king very soon.”
You blinked back tears as the two of you came to a sudden stop.
“Consider this the first of many lessons I’ll have to teach you. And you will learn, Princess. One way or another.”
John snapped his fingers and two of his men came to stand on either side of you. You looked from one to the other, noticing the crowd that had gathered. You narrowed your eyes when you realized you were standing on some sort of scaffolding, a stage of sorts.
John stepped near the edge of the stage.
“Citizens! Your future king has called you here for one simple reason.”
You tuned him out, glancing around the stage, looking through the crowd for a familiar face. You didn’t see one, save for Steve near the stairs, head bowed, shoulders tense. You swallowed as you studied the crowd, eyes falling onto a woman paces behind the rest of the people. She locked eyes with you and a shiver rolled up your spine. She lifted the hood of the cloak she wore, setting it on her fiery hair before turning and walking away. You watched her until you couldn’t see her anymore, blinking as if you’d been in a trance. Your eyes fluttered as the crowd began buzzing like a hive of bees, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched Bucky with his hands and feet shackled being led up the stairs. You started to step forward, stepping back when one of the men beside you blocked your path.
“You’re to watch this, Princess.”
Your heart throbbed in your chest as Bucky was led to the middle of the stage, the shirt he was wearing torn away. You met his eyes, saw the emotions swirling in the icy blue before he was forced to look away, his body wrenched to face the crowd.
“No.”
The word was barely audible, your eyes widening when John was handed a whip. You shook your head, reaching out, being stopped quickly by the thickly muscled arms of the men on either side of you. You looked to see Steve with his head still bowed, eyes squeezed shut, lips pulled tight in a wince. You took in a breath as John raised the whip over his head, hand flying to cover your mouth as John brought the whip down, the crack seeming to echo as Bucky’s body jolted forward.
Bucky tried to hold back, but soon every crack of the whip was followed by a scream of agony. You wanted to collapse at the first sound he tried so hard to hold back, but you stood firm. Bucky would want you to be strong. John looked back at you, wild-eyed with a wide smile on his face, and you glared at him, managing to stay still when the next crack of his whip was viciously hard.
When Bucky’s screams faded, you peeked around the man beside you, your heart falling to your toes when you saw how limp Bucky’s body was. The final lash from John’s whip had no reaction from Bucky, and John threw the whip to the ground as he turned and made his way to you. He stopped in front of you, smiling sadistically.
“Let this be a lesson to you, Princess. King or not, I own you.”
He glanced back over his shoulder.
“And this is just the beginning.”
You closed your eyes as John bent to kiss your cheek before walking away, whistling a tune as he did. The crowd began to disperse with quiet murmurs being exchanged, and you rushed forward, hitting your knees beside Bucky’s prone form.
“Bucky? Oh god. Buck, can you hear me?” “He’s unconscious.”
You looked up to Steve, seeing the pain on his face as he studied the lashes on Bucky’s back, blood oozing from the wounds. You shook your head, one shaky hand moving to the back of Bucky’s head.
“What do we do?” “I can help.”
You looked up at the new voice, quiet and thickly accented. The woman you’d noticed earlier that stayed at the edge of the crowd was standing over Bucky. You moved a hand protectively over him and she smirked.
“Don’t worry, Princess. I mean no harm. He’ll need these wounds cleaned to ward off infection.”
You nodded, looking down at the crisscrossing wounds on Bucky’s back. Shaky fingers gently touched his broken skin and you shook your head.
“I don’t … I can’t leave.” “I know, your grace. I have a few men who can help us.”
You met Steve’s eyes and nodded. He turned and nodded, and three men stepped out of the shadows. You recognized two of them, smiling sadly.
“Clint. Timothy.” “Your highness.”
The men bowed before offering hands to help you to your feet. You stepped back with the woman beside you, your heart clenching with every moan and noise Bucky made. The men managed to get Bucky on a horse, planning on taking him to Clint’s farm. The woman turned to you, and you would have sworn you saw her eyes turn red.
“I’ll do what I can, Princess, but he’s going to need you.” “Me?”
She nodded, a smile coming to her lips.
“I’ll send for you.” “How?” “You’ll know.”
She turned away and you blinked a few times before stepping forward.
“Steve!”
He looked back at you, crossing the space they’d already put between you. You took his hands.
“Be careful. You know there’s wolves in the woods.”
Steve nodded.
“We’ll keep an eye out.”
You nodded, squeezing his hands before he jogged to meet Clint, who was leading the horse away.
You stayed in your chamber with the door locked, refusing any visitors and the requests your parents and John made for you to come out. The only person you would allow into the room was the lady-in-waiting that had been by your side since you were a child, Lady Jean Grey.
You were sitting on the cushioned bench by the window, hands clasped in Jean’s as she knelt before you. You couldn’t speak, tears silently rolling down your cheeks as Jean spoke softly.
“He’s going to be okay, your highness. Steve will be sure to take good care of him.”
You hung your head and gave a soft sob. Jean always seemed to know just what you were thinking, even when you couldn’t put it into words. She knew how you felt about Bucky, how you felt about John, the hopelessness you could feel yourself slipping into. Your father had been delighted with John’s public show of power, and he was more determined than ever to make the marriage happen. You didn’t have a say in the matter, and seeing John’s self-satisfied smirk made your stomach turn.
Your head lifted, eyes locking with Jean’s before the two of you turned towards the window. You helped her to her feet, your gowns swishing as the both of you made your way to the window. The moon was high in the cloudless sky, and a chill rolled down your spine as a wolf’s howl broke the stillness of the night.
You turned to Jean, grabbing her hands.
“That’s it.” “Your grace, that was a wolf.” “No,shedid that. We haven’t heard wolves since the snow melted.”
Jean was incredibly smart and intuitive, and you saw goosebumps rise on her arms when the wolf howled again. You gave her hands a squeeze.
“I have to go, Jean. She said he was going to need me, and this is her sign.” “Okay. Okay, go.”
She sighed, looking to the door over your shoulder.
“I’ll stay here, pretend I’m you if I have to. I’ll ward off everything I can, but you must hurry back.”
You nodded, pulling her hands forward until you could kiss her cheek. She helped you into a gown more suitable for someone who wasn’t a princess, pinning your hair up and giving you her cloak. You knew there would be guards outside your chamber door, so Jean helped you climb over the balcony, using the blankets from your bed as a makeshift ladder.
You twisted your ankle when you dropped to the ground, wincing as you ran through the pain. You went in the direction you remembered Steve and Clint leading the horse that had carried Bucky away, the thought coming to you that you had no idea where you were going.
You covered your mouth with a hand when the wolf’s howl filled the air again, the sound sharp in your ears. You looked to your right, jolting when the howl sounded again, but turning that direction. You pulled Jean’s cloak tighter around you, eyes widening when you saw a curl of smoke rose towards the moon. Clouds were quickly hiding the moon, so you hurried towards the smoke, stopping when you saw a stone cottage. You made your way to the door, knocking on it and stepping back.
“Your highness. Welcome.”
You followed the woman into the cottage, removing the hood from your head. You untied the strings at your neck and she took the cloak from you, hanging it beside what you assumed was her own cloak.
“Excuse me.”
She turned to you, curls of her red hair framing her face.
“What is your name?”
She smiled.
“Wanda. Follow me.”
You did, stopping suddenly when Wanda walked through a doorway.
“Oh god.”
You hurried forward, hand brushing over Bucky’s sweat-soaked face. He was laying on his side and he moaned at your touch, his huge body shivering almost violently. You lifted your eyes to Wanda, who sighed.
“He’s got a fever from the infection. I’m doing everything I can.” “Oh, Bucky.”
You grabbed a cloth near his makeshift bed, dipping it in a bucket of water. You gently pressed the cloth to his forehead, a moan leaving his lips. The shivering of his body slowed just a bit, and you moved the cloth to gently clean his face.
“I’m here, Bucky. I’m so sorry.”
He hummed as you dipped the cloth back into the water, wringing it out and pressing it against his neck.
“How long has he had the fever?” “The wounds were showing the beginning signs of infection when we got him here.”
You lifted your head at that, and Wanda smiled as she moved to stand in front of a big bowl.
“They’re in the barn. Close enough that they can come if I call. The big one said it was unseemly for the men to be in a lady’s home.”
You smiled as you laid the cloth over Bucky’s heart.
“Steve.”
Wanda nodded, turning to grab a jar from a shelf on the wall.
“What can I do?”
Wanda took a few jars into her arms, setting them beside the bowl.
“You’re doing it. He’s stopped moaning. Perhaps he recognizes your touch.” “Is he delirious?”
Wanda nodded.
“He’s woken up a few times. That’s usually when I have to call the big one in to calm him down.”
You nodded, sucking in a breath when one of Bucky’s shaky hands touched your thigh. You moved the cloth back to his face, patting gently.
“It’s me, Bucky. I’m here with you.”
Your only response was a moan, and Wanda spoke from behind you.
“Can you fill this with water from the bucket?”
You took a small glass vial from her, dipping it into the bucket and handing it to her before dipping the cloth back into the bucket and wringing it out again.
“Wanda?” “Mm-hmm?” “The wolf howling. That was you, wasn’t it?”
She didn’t answer, and you lifted your head to see her dark eyes on you. She nodded, and you swallowed as you moved back to Bucky, placing the cloth against his neck.
“What are you?”
Your voice was quiet, your eyes on Bucky, watching his eyes move under his eyelids as his sleep was restless. You finally glanced over your shoulder, Wanda’s eyes still on you. You swallowed again and Wanda’s lips curled in the slightest semblance of a smile.
“Will you help me put this salve on his wounds?”
You nodded, watching Wanda stir whatever she had in the big bowl.
“We can get the big one in to help hold him down.” “Does it hurt him?” “It does, but it helps as well. I’ve already had to convince the big one that I’m helping him and not purposefully hurting.”
You let your fingers graze through Bucky’s hair, your breath catching in your throat at the way his head moved, as if he were seeking out your touch. You nodded, and Wanda walked to the window, unlatching it and pushing it open. She whistled a short tune, then closed the window. A few seconds later, you watched Steve exit the barn, wiping his feet before he walked into the room, eyes widening at the sight of you.
“Your Highness.”
You smiled at him and the short bow he gave, turning your attention back to Bucky. Wanda’s accented voice broke through the quiet.
“It is time to clean his wounds again.”
Steve blew out a breath, lifting a hand to rub at his bearded chin. You wiped the cloth over Bucky’s mouth, your fingers trailing through his hair. Steve stepped towards you, voice gentle.
“Princess, you don’t have to watch this. Clint will keep you company in the stables.”
You shook your head.
“I need to be here.”
Steve nodded, exchanging a look with Wanda. Steve murmured to Bucky as he gently began pushing him onto his stomach. Bucky groaned, painful moans escaping his lips as he went with Steve’s urges. You tried to shush him as best you could, touching his face and whispering to him. A horrified gasp escaped your lips when you saw the wounds on his back, how angry red they were, how some were seeping. Wanda and Steve exchanged another glance above where you had knelt at Bucky’s head.
“Your highness?”
You looked up to Wanda, who had a soft smile on her face.
“You stay there, try to keep him still. The big one and I can apply the salve.” “My name is Steve.” “I know your name, vysokiy.”
You and Steve exchanged a look, a smile crossing your face at the flush in his cheeks. The smile slid from your face as you met Wanda’s eyes, saw the compassion and sorrow there.
“He will fight. He may be weakened, but he is still strong. He won’t know what he’s doing and if he hurts you, he doesn’t mean it.”
You nodded, closing your eyes for just a moment.
“Brace yourself.”
You did, your heart shattering in your chest when Wanda laid a stripe of thick green paste over the lashes on Bucky’s back. Bucky gasped, then screamed, legs flying up as the salve burned into his skin. Tears came to your eyes when you listened to him scream, as Wanda gently layered the salve onto the lashes in his skin and you finally heard Steve calling your name, looking up.
“Talk to him! Calm him down.”
You shook your head, unsure of what to do, and Steve ground his teeth as he pressed Bucky’s shoulders down.
“Let him hear your voice.”
You looked back at Bucky, the tears sliding down his cheeks breaking your heart. He screamed again as Wanda spread more salve on his back and you knelt in front of him.
“Bucky! Bucky, calm down. Just breathe.”
Bucky’s eyes flew open, wild and glassy from the fever. You shushed him, taking his face in your hands.
“You’re okay. I’m here.”
He whispered your name and you nodded, smiling through the tears rolling down your cheeks.
“Hi, Buck.”
He groaned and you moved closer, resting your forehead on his, feeling the blaze of his skin against yours.
“It’s okay, Bucky. I’m here.”
He murmured your name again, one shaky hand reaching for you. You took his hand, holding it in yours, kissing his fingers before bringing it to your chest. He gave quiet groans as Wanda and Steve spread the salve over his back, giving your hand intermittent squeezes. You whispered to him, words that you weren’t even sure made sense.
When Wanda quietly announced she was done, Bucky’s body relaxed. You smiled, blinking open your eyes in time to see Bucky lean back just enough to brush his nose against yours. Your eyes widened as he moved, wincing the slightest bit. You took the hand Steve offered you and stood to your feet, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of the chair he moved for you to the head of Bucky’s makeshift bed. You sat down and Steve moved the chair closer. He maneuvered Bucky just a bit, until Bucky’s head was on your lap. You stared at Bucky for a moment, shaking your head as you looked up to Steve, looking back down when Bucky gave a content sigh, quickly drifting back to sleep. You stared at his sleeping form, the furrow between his eyebrows that you gently smoothed away. Every touch of your hand seemed to relax him more, and you smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair, gently untangling the dark strands.
In the kitchen, Wanda smiled as she washed out the bowl she had used. Steve stood back, eyes in the room where Bucky slept on the Princess’ lap. He lifted a hand to his forehead, gently rubbing.
“Something on your mind, vysokiy?”
Steve swallowed.
“This … them … it can’t be. You mustknow that.” “I know that the heart is not something to be played around with.” “They can’t be together. This will just hurt them more in the end.” “Will it? You see him? He’s sleeping more restfully than he has since he regained consciousness. The infection is already calming.”
Steve shook his head.
“It doesn’t matter. She has to go back to the castle and he has to go back to being a guard. Not her guard, because her new husband won’t allow it.” “Her new husband is not her husband yet. There has been no wedding.” “One is coming. The whole kingdom knows it.”
Wanda turned to face him fully.
“And you think she will go through with it?”
Steve stared at her, head tilting slightly.
“What are you talking about?”
Wanda’s dark eyes danced from you and Bucky back to Steve.
“Surely you can feel the love between them as I do.”
Steve looked away, looking back when Wanda stepped closer to him.
“You think she’ll go through with marrying the monster who broke her heart by nearly killing the one who holds her heart?” “She doesn’t have a choice.” “There’s always a choice, vysokiy.”
Steve grabbed her wrist, his touch gentling when her fingers gently caressed his wrist.
“What do you know?” “Nothing as of yet. Is only a possibility.” “What is?”
Wanda looked to you, saw you dip your head to press your lips to the crown of Bucky’s head. She nodded.
“I do believe your Princess would rather die than be forced away from him.”
Steve dropped her hand, eyes flashing back to you and Bucky, who slept peacefully in your lap.
You stayed in the chair with Bucky’s head in your lap until the sun came up. He stirred, groaning softly before blinking his eyes open. His eyebrows drew together, confusion marring his features until he looked up and saw you smiling down at him.
“My lady?” “Good morning, Bucky. How are you feeling?”
Bucky blinked, as if he were unsure you were really there. You gently slipped your fingers through his hair again and his eyes drifted closed. You continued, his voice deep and sleepy.
“How are you here?” “I snuck out. Lady Jean is pretending to be me.”
Bucky moaned softly, realizing where his head had been laying. His cheeks flushed as he pushed himself up with a groan, and you quickly moved to help him sit up.
“Take it easy. Just breathe.”
He took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. You smiled, moving your hand from his bare shoulder to his neck. He groaned again, hanging his head.
“Just breathe, Bucky.” “When did you get here?”
You swallowed, gently rubbing the ball of his shoulder.
“Last night. I had to help Wanda and Steve dress your wounds. Which, it should be time to change the bandages. We had to apply them while you slept.”
Bucky watched as you lifted a strip of cloth from just under his shoulder blade.
“It might be easier if you lay back down.”
Bucky shook his head.
“No, I … I’d like to sit up.”
You smiled.
“Okay.”
You stepped away from him, going behind him.
“I’m sorry, this may hurt.” “I’ll be okay.”
You slowly lifted the bandages from his skin, some of the salve causing the bandages to stick. You pulled as gently as you could, wincing each time you heard Bucky hiss out a breath. When the final bandage was removed, you went to the bucket of water Clint had brought in before the sun rose. You dipped a fresh cloth into the water, bringing it back to gently clean Bucky’s back. He hissed at first, then moaned softly.
“I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. Just a bit tender.”
You nodded, tears blurring your eyes as you did your best to clean the wounds. Once the wounds were clean, you continued to pat the cloth over Bucky’s back, urged on by the pleased sighs leaving his lips. Soon, however, Bucky realized there was no rhyme or rhythm to your touches. The cloth was barely skimming over his skin, the gentlest of brushes.
“My lady?”
You didn’t answer, dropping your hand to your side, going back to the bucket and dipping the cloth back into it, wringing it almost dry.
“Princess?”
You laid your hands on the small table where the bucket sat. You hung your head, only turning when you heard Bucky move.
“Don’t try to get up. You’re weak.” “Why are you crying?”
You sniffled, shaking your head. Bucky held out his hand and you took it in both of yours, stepping forward at his gentle pull.
“Are those tears for me, sweet Princess?”
You nodded, closing your eyes as you moved one hand to brush his hair back from his face, the other grasping tightly to his hand.
“I’m so sorry.” “What could you possibly be sorry for?”
You lifted your head when Bucky gently pushed at your chin, tears shining in your eyes when his icy blues met yours. He shook his head and you gave a shaky sigh.
“It’s because of me. John did this to you because of—“ “Don’t…”
Bucky shook his head, clenching his jaw before he looked back to you.
“He did this. Not you.” “But he did it because of me. He wanted to teach me a lesson and he knew hurting you would be the best way to hurt me.”
You lowered your head again and Bucky shifted to push your chin up again.
“Don’t hide from me, Princess. Let me look at you.”
You swallowed, stepping closer to him.
“I hate him.” “I know.” “They’re going to make me marry him and I—“ “Shh.”
You were careful to keep your arms by your side when Bucky pulled you into his arms. You didn’t want to touch his back and cause him any sort of pain, but you couldn’t help resting your head against his shoulder. You lifted a hand to cup his face, closing your eyes when you felt his rough beard against your scalp.
“I know he won’t allow me to guard you anymore.” “I know.” “If I could change it, Princess …”
You lifted your head, nose brushing against Bucky’s chin.
“I wish it could be you.”
Bucky’s hands tightened around you and you gave a shaky sigh.
“My lady—“ “Don’t say that he’ll be a good king or that I’ll grow to love him. I won’t. I won’t ever love anyone, Bucky. No one but—“ “Please don’t.”
You couldn’t stop the sob, your hand tightening just a bit on his face, resting your palm against his cheek. Bucky closed his eyes, his voice pitched low.
“You have to go back.” “I don’t want to.” “I know.” “I get this terrible feeling that I’ll never see you again.”
You shook your head, moving back until you could look him in the eyes.
“I can’t live the rest of my life without you.” “You can, Princess. You’re strong.” “I’m not.”
Bucky reached out, taking your face in his hands, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs.
“You deserve more than a lowly castle guard.” “I deserve someone who loves me, and that monster never will. I can’t live like that, Bucky. I can’t.”
He swallowed at the sureness of your words, rubbing his thumbs under your eyes again, causing them to close. He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to your forehead, the place where your crown usually sat. You lifted your hands to hold onto his thick forearms as he spoke again.
“You have to go back.”
You shook your head, a smile coming to his lips at your stubbornness.
“You can’t turn your back on the kingdom.” “The kingdom doesn’t care about me. The only thing I’m good for is marrying someone who can rule because I never can.”
You opened your eyes, looking into his again.
“Do you know what he said to me while we were walking one day? He said maybe I won’t be as useless as my mother and actually give him a worthy heir.”
You shook your head.
“How can you say I should go back to that?”
Bucky looked down at your still-joined hands.
“It’s your duty as Princess—“ “I don’t care about duty!”
You let go of his hands and stood up, shaking your head as you looked at him.
“The only thing in this world I care about is you. It broke my heart when John tortured you the way that he did. Look at me, Bucky. I snuck out of the castle to get to you. I knew what a risk it was and I couldn’t help myself.”
You’d been pacing the small area, stopping and turning to him.
“He doesn’t love me. He never will, and I know that. Deep in my bones, I can feel it. But you …”
Bucky hung his head, putting his face in his hands. You could feel the cracks in your heart, the break beginning. The cracks only deepened when he lifted his head, pain-filled eyes meeting yours.
“I can’t give you anything.” “You think I care about jewels or gold?” “What about food? I have nothing, Princess. I am nothing.”
You shook your head, going to him and taking his hands as you knelt before him.
“You’reeverything, Bucky. If I never step foot in another castle, that would be fine with me. As long as I had you.”
Bucky stared down at your hands, shaking his head.
“You have to go back.”
You felt the cracks in your heart deepening even more.
“You won’t even try, will you?” “There’s nothing to try. My duty is to guard the castle and your duty is—“ “To marry a monster whose cruelty towards me brings him such joy.”
You shook your head, giving a sharp laugh at the tears welling up in your eyes. You stared into Bucky’s eyes, the pain you felt reflected in the stormy grey of his orbs. You slowly nodded, turning away from him.
“Princess…”
You didn’t turn back at his voice, as much as it hurt. Bucky noticed then the weight on your shoulders, the way every breath seemed heavy from your chest. He called you by your name and you turned, lifting pain-filled eyes to his. He went still, the sad smile you put on your face breaking his heart, along with the words you said.
“I love you, James. And I’ll never love anyone but you.”
The tears sparkling in your eyes made him want to run to you, but you turned away before he could move. He hung his head as he listened to your footsteps walk away, curling back up on the bed once the closing of the door signaled your departure.
“Your Highness? Prince John would like you to meet him in the dining hall. He wants to discuss the food for the wedding feast.”
You continued to stare out the window, taking a breath before you acknowledged Lady Jean.
“Tell the future king that whatever he desires is fine with me.” “He wants to get your input on some things, my lady.”
You pulled your dull, tired eyes from the window.
“I highly doubt that. But you know what I like, Lady Jean. Speak in my stead.” “It’s not my wedding, your grace.” “It’s not mine, either.”
Jean sighed, closing the door behind her as she made her way to you.
“You must leave this room, dear. Let’s take a stroll around the gardens.”
You turned your head towards her again.
“He cut down my tree. Did you know that?”
Jean knelt beside you, reaching a hand up to gently stroke your hair.
“He reinstated James. Did you knowthat?”
You shook your head.
“He’s a castle guard now, but he’s here. I could bring him to you.” “John would never allow that.” “Then we could take that walk and be sure to find him.”
You smiled sadly.
“I told him I love him. That I’d never love anyone but him.”
Jean’s hand fell from your hair. You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes again.
“I think I’d just like to stay here.” “Princess…” “Thank you, Jean. That will be all.”
Jean sighed, standing to her feet, laying her hand against your head before turning and leaving. You took in a breath, folding your arms and placing them on the windowsill, putting your head on your arms and crying.
When the moon was high in the sky and the castle was at rest, you crept as quietly as you could from your room. The guard outside your door, one wearing Prince John’s family crest, was asleep. He had his chin against his chest, quiet snores leaving his lips. You shook your head and silently crept past him, pulling your cloak tighter around you. You went for the winding staircase, making your way to the castle’s roof. Once there, you untied your cloak, letting it fall to the stones you slowly walked across. You stopped at the edge, leaning over the railing there, your heart fluttering at the distance to the ground.
You took in a breath and let it out slowly, taking hold of the railing and lifting yourself up. You slowly stood on top of the edge of the stone balcony, looking straight ahead instead of down.
If you looked down, you’d never do what you set out to do.
You closed your eyes, trying your best to clear your mind. You didn’t want to think of Jean or your parents or John and especially not Bucky. You lifted your head, the night wind rolling over you like a cold caress, cutting through the thin gown you wore to bed.
“Princess?”
You opened your eyes, the breath catching in your throat.
No.
“My lady, please. I need you to step down from there.”
Not him. Anyone but him.
“Princess, I can’t make it down fast enough to catch you. So that means I … I’ll have to follow you.” “You’re not my guard anymore.” “Maybe not where the future king is concerned, but I’ll always protect you.”
You turned your head then, tears welling up in your eyes when you saw him.
“Is that what you did when you sent me away? You were protecting me? By pushing me towards that monster?” “Take my hand and we can talk.”
Bucky stepped forward, hand outstretched to you. You shook your head, the stone ledge digging into your bare feet.
“I can’t live like this. I can’t marry him. His cruelty is constant and I can’t even begin to imagine what he’ll do when I’m his wife. He already treats me like he owns me and I can’t … I won’t live like that.”
You squared your shoulders, looking back out over the kingdom.
“If you do this, then you must know that I’m coming after you.”
You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Bucky staring up at you on the ledge.
“I can’t live in a world where you’re not.”
Your shoulders dropped at that. As a quiet sob broke free from your chest, Bucky stepped even closer, hand outstretched towards you. You put your hand in his and he stepped even closer as you bent down, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slid one arm around you, the other under your knees. He held you close as you put your face in his neck, and he knelt to the ground, keeping you in his arms. You stayed holding onto him, the warmth of his body bleeding through his armor and into you.
You couldn’t say anything. Tears slipped from your eyes and onto him, but Bucky didn’t speak either. He just knelt there on the castle roof, holding you, for what seemed like hours.
You stood on the balcony outside your chamber, staring out over the hazy day. Dark clouds were rolling over the hills in the distance, an ominous appearance to what should have been the happiest day of your life. You hadn’t slept well, your dreams invaded with hopeless, dark images and wolf howls. You exhaled slowly, closing your eyes, blinking them open again.
You tilted your head, the hooded figure at the edge of the trees sending a chill up your spine. You instinctively knew that was Wanda, and you felt a pull towards her. You watched her come to a stop at the tree line, hands coming out from under her cloak, twisting and turning and you would swear they were glowing red. You would also swear that she was looking right at you, and you turned, hurrying from your chamber. You were halfway down the steps before you realized how empty the castle was, considering your wedding ceremony and feast were tonight. You lifted your skirts and ran through the open doors, hurrying down past the stables. The closer you got to the tree line, the further away it seemed Wanda slipped. You jumped at a crack of thunder, glancing over your shoulder to see Bucky stop in his tracks on a balcony of the castle. You stopped as he did, watching him shake his head and call for you.
You’re not sure what came over you. You felt as though your body wasn’t your own as you turned and ran into the forest. You called for Wanda, but got no response. You kept running, sucking in a breath when you heard the commotion behind you, of the guards mounting their horses to come after you.
“Wanda! I know that was you. Where are you?”
You went still when you heard a wolf howl, glancing over your shoulder when you heard snarls and yips close by. You watched a pack of wolves walk out of the trees and slowly surround you. You swallowed, closing your eyes and wishing you could have had one more moment with Bucky.
You gasped as a wolf snapped its jaws at you, and you backed into a thorn bush, cutting your arm. You yelped when another wolf did the same thing, gasping when a wolf bit your gown, tugging until it ripped. On your other side, another wolf did the same thing. You didn’t want to run because you knew you couldn’t outrun the wolves. But you noticed strangely that the wolves weren’t trying to hurt you. They seemed more preoccupied with tearing your gown.
You turned and cut your other arm on the thorn bush, your blood dripping onto the scraps of your gown on the ground. One of the wolves threw its head back and gave a loud howl, your eyes widening when a larger wolf stepped out of the trees. You noticed something in this wolf’s mouth, a vial that seemed familiar to you, but you didn’t know why. The wolf stopped directly in front of you, tilting his head to the side before dropping the vial at your feet. A strange crimson smoke wafted from your feet up to your nose, and you inhaled deeply.
You stared into the wolf’s eyes, your mouth opening as your breathing sped up. Pain shot through your body, and you threw your head back and screamed. You fell to your knees and screamed again, the pain seeming to completely encompass you. The wolves began snapping at you and howling, your screams interspersed with their howls. You gave a gasping, wet gurgle, feeling like your heart was trying to burst out of your chest. A quiet groan was the last sound you could make before you collapsed, the pain too much for you to handle.
You were hanging on the edge of consciousness, unsure of what was happening. You could swear you felt the wolves’ nudging you with their noses, causing you to roll over onto your belly. You were sure you felt claws scratch one leg, then the other, until a quiet yip sounded. You felt the wolves nudge you again, and you felt yourself be lifted, placed onto something soft and warm. You felt wind against your skin, and the cool drops of rain against your face was the last thing you felt before you lost consciousness.
As storms raged through the kingdom, a blanket of grief settled over the castle. Your mother refused to leave her chamber, demanding the curtains closed and shrouding herself in darkness. Your father seemed to be in a fog. John saw no reason to stay, leaving his condolences before heading back to his kingdom.
Lady Jean Grey was inconsolable, sitting in your chamber and weeping. The castle was quiet and dark, and from his place on a balcony, Bucky decided he’d prefer to be publicly whipped every day of his life than to have to live with this godforsaken pain.
He stood unmoving in the rain, soaked to the skin, completely numb. He kept his eyes trained towards the woods, hoping against all odds that you’d step through the tree line. Steve stayed beside him, sometimes trying to talk with him, most of the time just standing by.
Every time Bucky closed his eyes, he saw you. The sweet smiles you only gave to him, the way your eyes lit up when he was near. He could feel your gentle touch, reminders of the comfort only you could bring when he was at Wanda’s cottage. He could hear your laughter that only happened when he did something that tickled you, the soft way you said his name, the only one besides Steve who could call him Bucky.
It was a pain he never wanted, a grief so heavy and sharp he wasn’t sure he’d survive.
He’d fallen to his knees when he and the rest of the guards arrived at the clearing in the woods, in the midst of the remnants of what was to be your wedding gown strewn about, soaked with your blood. The howls of the wolves as they’d retreated had him reaching for his sword, but his hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t take hold. He’d managed to pick up a scrap of lace that was tattered at one end, soaked with rain or wolf saliva, he didn’t know. It was now tucked close to the place where his heart once beat.
They hadn’t found your body before the rains fell, but from the noises he’d heard, your screams and the howls and snarls of the wolves, everyone knew your fate.
Now, Bucky just stood. If the castle fell under attack, he’d rush to the front line. He wouldn’t put up much of a fight, and perhaps one day they’d say he died a noble death. Steve would know the truth, but he wouldn’t speak of it. Until then, Bucky would focus on trying to breathe through the weight of his grief.
As the sun started its descent, Bucky gazed over the tree line. A hooded figure stood in the distance, face shrouded by a cloak. Bucky watched hands appear from under the cloak, turning and fingers moving, pops of red glowing around the digits. He turned to the guard at the other end of the balcony, found him with his eyes closed, chin resting against his chest. Bucky swallowed, looking back out to see the figure turn away, cloak falling to reveal a head of fiery red hair, hand flicking above her head as she walked away.
“Wanda.”
Bucky turned and left his post, hurrying into the castle and down the steps, not realizing how empty the castle was. He burst through the doors and ran for the trees, bursting into the forest before he heard—and ignored— Steve calling his name.
Bucky ran through the forest, armor clanging with every move he made. He stopped, a strange feeling coming over him as he quickly removed his armor, leaving it in a pile with his sword carefully on top before he continued running. He burst into a clearing, looking from left to right, going still when he heard the howl of a wolf much too nearby. He closed his eyes when he realized where he was, the same clearing where he’d found all that was left of you. He opened his eyes again to find wolves surrounding him, on every side and at every turn. He reached for his sword, hands falling to his sides when he realized his armor was far behind him.
As the wolves snarled and bared their teeth at him, his only thought was, if the gods had mercy on him, at least he’d see you again soon.
He closed his eyes, jolting when he felt a wolf bite at his pants, opening his eyes and trying to pull his leg away, only to hear the seam rip. The wolf shook it’s head with a mouthful of fabric before spitting it out and growling at Bucky. Bucky braced himself when the wolves charged at him at once, only to quickly realize they weren’t trying to hurt him; it seemed they only wanted to rip his clothes. Bucky hissed out a breath when his now-bare arm swiped a thorn bush, blood dripping from the cut onto his tattered clothes.
He went still when a much larger wolf stepped into the clearing, a strange vial in its mouth that seemed to glow red. Bucky stood as still as he could, until the wolf stopped before him, staring into his eyes until the wolf dropped the vial, deep red smoke curling from Bucky’s feet into his nostrils as he inhaled.
Bucky winced as pain shot through his chest. He coughed, choking a bit before a pain-filled scream left his lips. He couldn’t stop the screams as pain wracked his body, and he hit his knees, hands scrabbling at his chest as he coughed and moaned. He fell forward, landing against something soft, instead of flat on his face in the dirt. Quiet moans left his lips as he felt claws against his legs, and he felt his body being shifted. He managed to catch a glimpse of lightning streaking across the sky before raindrops fell against his overheated skin. As he felt wind whip his face, his only thought was of you, wondering if just maybe, you’d be waiting for him in heaven.
The damp, cool cloth felt like heaven against Bucky’s overheated skin. Fever raged through his body, but gentle caresses and the cloth helped. He kept hearing a soft, familiar voice repeat his name, but the fever kept pushing him down into unconsciousness.
“Sleep,” the gentle voice murmured. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Bucky whispered the name of his lost Princess, asleep before he could hear the voice’s response.
“His fever should have broken by now.” “Perhaps he still had some infection in him.” “You said you got rid of that.” “I don’t know what to tell you, velichiye. Your fever lasted almost as long.”
Bucky was hovering on the edge of consciousness, two feminine voices reaching his ears. He tried to open his eyes, but they were so heavy. He gave a quiet moan, the swishing of skirts filling the space before a damp cloth was pressed
Summary: The first time was an accident. The second time was coincidence. The third time is just unlucky. The fourth time is getting out of hand and the fifth may or may not be with intent. Otherwise known as The One Where He Spills Her Coffee.
Pairing:Bucky x fem!Reader
Warnings: Language. Buckets of fluff. 18+ Alludes to Infinity War and the Snap as this takes place afterwards (so please, if you haven’t yet seen the movie, please do).
Fic Writing Challenge Prompt:“You Owe Me Dinner” This is for @captain-ariel-barnes 4k writing challenge.
I have been having a break from writing recently for my own sanity, when I suddenly decided to watch the full marvel timeline on Disney+ and fell in love with Bucky/Sebastian Stan like many people in the world. So like any FanFiction writer I was a reader before a writer so I decided to read my first Bucky imagine… I want to say that this work is amazing and I can only hope to be as good as this writer one day. I loved the entire series and 100% recommend is you like Bucky. Amazing!❤️
Pairing: WS!Bucky x Reader (musician) Rating:Teen for now, Explicit later Tags/Warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-divergent, angst, fluff, music soothes the soul y’all, so many other tags to come Summary: You happen to get caught in the Winter Soldier’s attack one day, but you don’t expect to ever see him again. You definitely don’t expect him to show up at your home, bleeding. You definitely, definitely don’t expect to want to go on the run with him.
♬ ♪ ♫ You pick me up when I feel down No matter how deep in the night I got your back when we go out You know I’m always on your side We don’t need money to feel good ‘Cause you’re the ridе or die, the rest of my lifе Don’t need a party to feel high We’re like the modern version of Bonnie and Clyde ♬ ♪ ♫
You pull your baseball cap lower, even though they’re not looking for you, and you stay close to Bucky’s side at all times. Bucky had insisted on that, for safety, unless they were made - then he ordered you to run.
(“I’m not leaving you!”
“I’ll find you. I promise.”)
Your first stop was Australia, and you spend most of the ship ride asleep on Bucky’s shoulder. It turns out Bucky had retrieved his only belongings (his dog tags) and what he thought he needed from HYDRA (money and weapons). It was a lot of money to be carrying around.
While it was obvious from your accents that you weren’t from around there, the country was welcoming to tourists. In fact, you’d met a ton of people just packing up from their summer vacation or here temporarily. Bucky doesn’t stop looking over his shoulder, doubting himself already. HYDRA has agents everywhere. So does SHIELD. Why did I bring her into this?!
The heart of the city feels a bit too crowded so you both make your way eastward and southward, jumping between motels, until the noise is no longer constant and Bucky can sort of breathe.
The apartment you snagged in New South Wales was for one month and already furnished, so you tried to get Bucky to relax. He taped newspapers up on the windows. You don’t call him crazy or paranoid, just took the tape roll from him and ripped the pieces, handing home each one so he could focus on the paper. It made him feel safer, that’s what mattered. You catch him pacing a few times, patrolling, eyes always flickering here and there when his enhanced hearing picks up on something.
He doesn’t speak, not really. You’re not sure he spoke at all the first day but sometimes you get to ask him questions and he answers. Short, but still. You work on it.
You write in your notebook, like a journal, to catalogue the events of your travels. Technically you were aiding a fugitive and not on a vacation by any means, but it didn’t feel that way to you sometimes. You catch Bucky watching you sometimes, and think, maybe it’d be nice to have him write his thoughts down as well, especially when he tries to open up to you, but shuts down. You don’t pry, because you know he’s trying. Gently, you tell him some of the files were leaked online, but you don’t say what because he doesn’t ask. You suspect that SHIELD had been infiltrated long, long ago - how else would they know exactly how to thaw out Captain America would? Bucky seems to think about this for a while.
You decide to get a Polaroid camera, nothing digital as per Bucky’s instructions, and also find a notebook for Bucky. You take a picture of the beachside to tape it into your journal cover, and pick up a newspaper like Bucky asked. Bucky is sitting on the couch, which he’d arranged to have against the wall.
“I got something for you,” you said as you rummage through your bag for his notebook. “I thought maybe you could use it to write your thoughts down, help organize things for you. I know sometimes you don’t feel comfortable enough telling me everything and that’s okay. But this could maybe help you get some of it off your chest?”
He looks between the notebook and you, face softens a little.
“Thank you,” he says before pulling you into his lap and there’s no resistance from you at all. He spends a few moments with his ear pressed to your chest, and you let him hear how your heart beats for him.
He finally does settle, somewhat, and it becomes so domestic, so quickly. Since you weren’t the one they were looking for, you did all the shopping, though you tried to get at least 4-5 days worth at a time so you didn’t have to leave too much. When you came home, Bucky would help you put the groceries away, and he’d read the paper you picked up so he could be up to date with world affairs and you’d both prepare dinner together. His skills with a knife were indisputable, and somehow translated into chopping vegetables perfectly. He’s now got a bit of a beard going, and while you miss that defined jaw of his, you have to admit it works well for his cover. At least he’s good about trimming it regularly.
At night, he would go on a (very) long run, to burn his excess energy and keep in shape, and when he came back, shirt sticking to his chest with sweat and breathing heavy, you did your best not to get yearn for something he wasn’t looking for.
When he did his millions of sit-ups and push-ups, you would journal or do puzzles to stop yourself from staring.
On your shopping days you’d head to the library and borrow a few books to bring home, split the pile with Bucky and then swap once you two were done. Sometimes Bucky would journal and get the “furrowed brow concentration” look at it was always best to leave him alone during those times.
You’d think that being confined indoors would result in the days dragging by, but honestly each day felt new to you, and they began to blur together, speeding by. You explored recipes together, learned card games together and spent a lot of time reading.
One day, you’re up making breakfast, your hair still damp from your morning shower. Neither of you ever shower without the other awake, on guard. Bucky is lounging on the couch with the TV playing something softly in the background which it often does since he’s still having a hard time casually conversing, making it too quiet.
Bucky does okay with some foods now, which you were ecstatic about, even if it was just yogurt and pudding. He was getting better with bread, plain, but one day you’d get peanut butter on there. He went through a ton of these foods after discovering that he could stomach it. Today, you’d try plain scrambled eggs - if he doesn’t eat them or doesn’t like them, you’d just finish them up.
You pull out the eggs, milk, and get the bread ready for the toaster. As the eggs sizzle on the pan, you tell Bucky what you’re making, asking if he wants to try some today. As soon as you turn away from the toaster, Bucky surprises you by standing in the centre of the kitchen.
“Jesus!” You curse, but laugh at your own silliness. Nobody would make it one step into the apartment, if Bucky didn’t want them to. Of course it wouldn’t be anyone else. He watches you work in silence.
You plate the breakfast but catch your arm on the pan and you let out a hiss of pain. A set of strong, warm hands take the pan and spatula from you and gently nudge you away. The toaster pops and he takes care of that too.
The scrambled eggs are a success, and he gets an entire tub of yogurt as a treat.
The morning’s success keeps you happy for hours - you were so proud of him! He was always skeptical but never stopped trying. Soon, you were sure you could get him eating whatever he wanted. As you lazily fill out your sudoku, you begin to hum without realizing. Too concentrated on your puzzle, you don’t register that the TV has been turned off. It takes a few moments but you finally look up at the blank TV and then turn to Bucky, who’d been sitting on the floor in front of the couch that you were lying on.
“What’s that song?” He asks.
“Oh,” you blink up at him. You hadn’t given it much thought until he asked. “Well, it’s not exactly a happy song, it’s just something I learned a while ago.”
“Sing for me?” His voice is so soft that you couldn’t deny him. You sit yourself up and take a moment to remember the words. It feels weird to do this without your guitar, without the chords to guide you.
“It’s you, it’s always you If I’m ever gonna fall in love, I know it’s gon’ be you, it’s you, it’s always you Met a lot of people, but nobody feels like you So please don’t break my heart, don’t tear me apart I know how it starts, trust me I’ve been broken before Don’t break me again, I am delicate, please don’t break my heart Trust me I’ve been broken before, I’ve been broken, yeah I know how it feels, to be open, and then find out your love isn’t real I’m still hurting, yeah, I’m hurting inside I’m so scared to fall in love, but if it’s you then I’ll try, it’s you”
You don’t finish the song, even though you’re close, because you can feel your voice crack. It’s not that you’re crying, but it’s a near thing. The first time you played this song you had been a mess, fresh out of a relationship where he’d been cheating on you for over three months. It was still raw.
“Not broken,” he murmurs faintly. He’d turned so that he was facing you, his sapphire eyes looking up at you with concern with his hands on your legs that are crossed on the couch. It startles a bitter laugh out of you.
“Aren’t I?” You ask rhetorically. You blink a few times, and sniffle.
“Not broken,” he repeats, his hands travel up to your waist to pull you closer, and he nudges himself into your hold against your chest. You can’t help but run your hands through his hair, just as he’d done to you. It’s the exact position you’d been in back when you first learned what they were doing to Bucky - when you’d sobbed against his chest telling him he deserved better.
You were not better.
But you let yourself be soothed because you couldn’t remember the last time you’d wanted so badly. Since you’re already feeling greedy, you tilt his head towards yours and lower your lips until they taste nirvana, and you let Bucky climb up on the couch between your legs. Holding you closer, he slowly rolls so you end up on top of him but doesn’t let go. You drift off into an afternoon nap like that, curled up on his chest like a kitten.
summary: part 7 | it should’ve been you | a wedding rehearsal and a confrontation of all confrontations, will the truth finally come out?
warnings: 18+ ONLY! alludes to smut, mention of smut, angsty, ohhh baby is it angsty, cuss words; lots of them!, kinda fluffy, lots of dialogue, lots of feelings, !!! (this is long!! im sorry!!)
eighteen plus only — by choosing to ‘keep reading’, you are agreeing that you are eighteen years old and over. do not interact with this story if you are a minor.
Bucky wasn’t ignoring you, he just needed some time to think. He replayed what you said over and over. As soon as you slammed the door in his face, he drove back to his house, and laid on the couch, he stared at the ceiling…and replayed your words. Again and again.
Summary: When Bucky fell from the train in 1945, he didn’t just leave behind his family and friends. He left behind the girl he was going to marry, a girl he never stopped loving. Decades later, Bucky continued to search for her, only to find out that she had disappeared without a trace in 1955.
But when Steve hands over the shield to Sam Wilson, he also has something for his childhood friend—a redacted S.H.I.E.L.D. file code-named Operation: Freefall, a file with more questions than answers. With Sam’s help and a handful of Pym Particles, the file sends Bucky on a trip to the past, trying to solve the mystery and save the woman he still loves.
Series Warnings: Post TFATWS, Endgame Compliant, Canon-Adjacent, Time Travel, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Injury, Mention of Past Death, PTSD, Survivor’s Guilt, General Winter Soldier Warnings, Period-Typical Racism, Angst, Reunited Lovers, Eventual Smut.
Chapter Warnings: TATWS spoilers, Mention of Death, Angst, Self-Blame,
A/N: This series has been a long time coming. I first put out the teaser for it in January, and although I have (an embarrassing amount) of WIP’s right now, I just don’t want to wait to start on this one anymore. Hope you like it!
Series Warnings: *18+*, Heavy Smut (see individual chapters for specifics), Age Gap (Reader is 40, Bucky is 25), Language, Heavy Angst, Fluff
Series Summary: You’re not looking for love, just a good time. Something casual. You know Bucky is not who he’s pretending to be, but neither are you. What starts off as a sinful game of cat and mouse slowly devolves into a battle of hearts, and someone’s bound to get hurt. But when the truth is aired and he says those three little words, is it enough to make you take a chance on love again, or will you run?
A/N: I keep making this fic longer and longer! Mostly plot in this one, not really any smut, and a little bit of angst that will resolve itself in the next chapter. We have one more chapter until we’re caught up to the beginning.
A/N/N: Just a reminder, this fic is **18+** ONLY, and NSFW. If you’re not 18, you shouldn’t be reading this. Title based on the song, Burn Bright by the Heavy. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.
Summary:Unsure about how sex works, Bucky trusts you enough to lose himself to you under the wakandan night sky.
Word count: 4714 (lmao)
Warnings:NSFW. 18+, MINORS DNI, SMUT, fluff, Bucky has one arm, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, p in v, oral sex (f and m receiving), face sitting, cum eating. Bucky cums… A lot. Bucky is SO in love. This is actually soft.
A/N:you guys…… this took forever to write it’s embarrassing kskdks (not to sell myself short but i dont even know if it’s good so I’m sorry abt that :s). It’s been a while since I’ve been able to write but I had this idea a while ago, inspired by Work Song by Hozier, and I had to finish it.
Please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment if you enjoyed it <3
Watching the sun set had been beautiful, but the wakandan night sky was absolutely breathtaking. You’d never seen a sky so full of stars. There were so many and they were all so bright you didn’t even know where to look. And yet, with all that beauty in front of you, your gaze couldn’t help but wander to your left, where he was laying.
Oh my god I am so glad I carved out time to read this masterpiece. This was wonderful, every word of it. I’m a sucker for the soft stuff, and this was the perfect amount of it. Our sweet one armed Bucky doesn’t get enough love and you’ve done him justice!❤
thank you so much for reading and for your words!! I don’t see a lot of one arm Bucky fics and I wanted to give him some love
Summary: After almost 50 years of separation, they finally reunite.
Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of death, emotional,
This is kinda inspired by the song ‘loch lomond’
Not Prof read so let me know of any mistakes I guess.
The minute steve marched back into the base without Bucky by his side gave it away.
Or maybe it was the fact that he was tearing up.
Either way, she wasn’t ready to hear it.
That he wasn’t ever going to come home again.
Well… at least until they ran into each other In Wakanda nearly 50 years later.
—-
Cold.
That’s what she felt.
The cold that resides in loneliness. Her soon to be husband was gone. She was alone.
He broke his promise.
She knelt in front of the army men, head down. She felt to numb to cry, so instead she just stared at the ground, her throat hurt too much to speak.
Steve knew how she felt, he felt the same way as her…
They were all friends sense birth, all with each other till the end of the line.
He dropped down with her, hugging her shaking form. Only then did her guard break down, releasing a stream of sobs. She’s never cried that hard before.
She hugged Steve back and they both clung to one and other for dear life.
He was going to be by her side through everything… he promised himself,
Which would soon be broken when she got kidnapped by hydra agents.
For weeks he searched,
But once he had to land the space craft into the ice,
Her and Bucky were lost to him,
Until recently.
—————
He found her first, during Ultron, she was kept with the twins.
Having the super solider serum, along with powers of her own. Once he got her to remember him, she explained everything that happened to him.
And then the grief that she pushed down, the Greif for Bucky, came back up.
Shortly after, she went to Wakanda, to be rehabilitated.
And it worked, She was getting her mind back. The Greif for her long lost fiancé never really left tho.
—-
After he found Bucky, he had to make sure he could fix what hydra did before she was aware that he was still alive.
When Bucky walked off that space craft, he felt the air shift. Maybe it was the new scenery? No, this was something he’s felt before.
Steve didn’t tell him she was alive, he wanted to get the annoying fighting out of the way first.
——————
“This is where you will be staying for during your visit Mr. Barnes. I trust you will find it comfortable”. T’Challa smirked as he turned and started to walk back to his home.
Bucky yelled a quick thank you, and started towards.
Suddenly, everything and nothing made sense.
It was her.
The her, that he never got to say goodbye to.
She turned around, dropping the things in her hands, body going limp with shock.
Both of their hair was longer.
Faces older.
But it was him. And it was her.
Their faces both dropped.
They both took small steps forwards, eyes never leaving each other’s.
When they were close, she reached up, and touched his cheek slowly.
His hand gently fell on top of hers, his movements also slow.
They didn’t speak, not for a few moments.
Seemingly understanding each other’s desire to just sit in remembrance.
When the moments did past, she was the first to speak.
“James?” Her voice cracked, as tears slowly pooled from her eyes. His weren’t dry either.
He said her name with the same flavor. It felt different. He hasn’t said it in years.
Their hands began to feel each other’s hands, arms, and faces.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Artist!Female Reader Summary: When your insecurities get the best of you, Bucky tells you what you need to hear. Word Count: Almost 1.9k Warnings: Angst, angst with a happy ending, feels, insecurities, crying, established relationship, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?) A/N: Hey, lovelies! This fic is very personal to me as some of the things discussed are things that I have felt. If you read this and you have as well, I hope you feel seen and know that you matter. Beta read by the beautiful @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by the talented @maysdigitalarts Moodboard by the incredible @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!
Thiiiis! Whenever I write and post something and it doesn’t get the engagement I was expecting. You put into words how many of us feel! And thank you for reminding us we create for us, not for the validation of others. You are, as always, amazing
series summary: In order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.
pairing:mob!bucky x stark!reader
word count: 3.1k
warnings:fluff, mentions of abusive marriage, references to sex, the end of the series
The scent of cinnamon and maple syrup filled gently roused you from your sleep as you lifted your head off the warmth of Bucky’s bare chest. Bleary eyed with sleep tousled hair, you glanced around the room through squinted eyes that raked over the features of Bucky’s room; the small pile of clothes in the corner, the few scattered books of yours across the entertainment center; little pieces of you with him.
A low grumble sounded from beside you and you felt arms wrap around your waist, drawing your body closer to his warmer one. You smiled as you felt him trail warm kisses across your shoulders, before reaching up towards your neck, whispering, “Good morning, my sweet girl.”
“Good morning,” you whispered and turned in his arms, pressing your cheek against the muscle on his shoulder. “Did you have one of your chefs make me breakfast at seven in the morning on a Thursday?”
Bucky furrowed his brows and squinted at you, his head tilting in mock confusion. “No, I mean technically he’s not qualified to be a chef.”
After a beat of silence, you asked meekly, “Is it Steve?”
A light-hearted laugh left Bucky’s lips as he pressed a kiss to the side of your cheek, pulling you closer into his warm chest. He could never get tired of holding you, the soft fabric of your shirt pressed up against the bare of his chest, how the strands of hair that fell over your face tickled his nose.
He could hold you for an eternity, and still crave your touch.
“He’s not a bad cook, y’know,” Bucky whispered against your cheek. He pressed kisses along your jaw until they found purchase on your lips. A soft sigh escaped you and you melted into his hold, hands lazily coming up to cradle his jaw gently.
It had been a steady process of getting rid of the remnants of your ex-husband, but after a few months of living with your father, you began to find little pieces of you again. You found yourself spending more and more time with Bucky, both day and night.
He had even cleared out a small piece of his closet to place your clothes, had extra pillows and blankets on his bed, even placed a small shelf for the many books you left scattered around his house.
Life had been going seemingly well, and it shocked you. For the past five years, you had been trapped in a loveless marriage with a vile man who showed you nothing but cruelty. One who shouted curses at you for just standing, one who would belittle you in front of his men until you didn’t have the energy to face anyone.
But now, you were back with your father again, a lead position ast Stark Industries that you were guiding perfectly, and your best friend was in your life again, it baffled you as you didn’t know how you managed to go through years without him.
“Today’s the big day, huh?” Bucky asked and he felt you nod against him. “Are you nervous?”
“A little,” you said, trailing a finger along the curves of his muscles, down to the artwork of his tattoos. “But I have faith in myself.”
Accepting the job of project manager at your father’s company was the first real decision you had made in years, and it proved to be one of the best choices you had ever made. With the support of both your father and Bucky, you had fit in well to the position, sometimes working longer hours to complete tasks.
It was the test run of one of the projects you and your team had been working tiredly and endlessly to complete, one that would amplify a type of smart security in all the purchases made at Stark Industries. There were days and nights Bucky had to drag you away from your work in order to get some decent rest.
“You’ve been working nonstop the past three months on this. And to say that you’ve almost completed an entire project in three months when you’ve been working there for under six is impressive,” Bucky encouraged you, his hand slid over the strands of hair on your head, coming up to cradle your jaw. “You are going to rock this presentation, and when you do, I’ll be your handsome cheerleader on the sidelines.”
A hearty laugh left your lips and you rose from his chest, stretching out your limbs until you let out a satisfied sigh . Bucky watched with loving blue eyes as you lifted yourself out of bed, sneaking away to the bathroom.
After quickly washing yourself up and applying a light amount of makeup, you retreated back into the room to see the bed vacant. You smiled and made your way into the closet, where Bucky had an outfit hung up, one he bought specifically for the day.
You could feel the familiar burn of tears, but this time, it was a different emotion. Not tears brought by fear or terror on your life, not tears of sadness, but tears of happiness. That the man you loved with every fiber being in your body had bought you a new outfit for today.
You briefly remembered telling him about the presentation day months ago. But you didn’t think he would actually remember.
Turns out, he proved you wrong.
Changing into the black slacks and soft satin shirt, you quickly did your hair and slipped on your shoes before you made your way out of the room and down to the kitchen, where you saw Bucky fixing two slices of french toast and a couple of berries on a plate.
He looked at you when you walked in, eyes trailing over the stretch of your legs, the curve of your waves, and the necklace that sat around your neck, the gemstone of your birthstone tuning nicely to your blouse.
“Guess I made a good purchase, huh?” Bucky murmured as he made his way over to you, his hands finding purchase on the soft fabric of your blouse. He leaned in and placed a gentle, soft kiss upon your lips. “You’re gonna rock today, sweet girl. I know you will.”
You smiled against his lips, hands tangling into his hair. “I love you.”
His arms circled around your waist and he pulled you closer to his chest. Though you didn’t quite live with him, it seemed as though you were always over at his house. Whether the two of you were in his office, both silently working alongside each other, or if you were just sitting next to each other, both with a drink and book in hand, it made Bucky feel more secure.
To know that you were by his side, safe and happy. He wouldn’t rest until he knew you were safe with either him or your father. He wished he could just bite the bullet and convince you to move in with him. You had some of your things already stored in closets and dressers of his room.
“I love you too, sweet girl,” he whispered against your lips. He pulled back with a smile and the both of you sat down at the table, though the thought of you moving in with him did not leave his mind.
—
Working at Stark Industries had been everything you hoped for. No one treated you differently though you were the boss’ daughter, you had been fitting into your department rather nicely. On the occasion, your father would pop into your office with your favorite bagel sandwich from the cafe down the street.
You had been able to start three projects, with one of them coming to a close finish. It just needed a test run and approval from the CEO, which you had no doubt in, and it would be completed. To ensure the confidential safety of purchases, you knew your father would be on board with it.
And he was. When the time came to present it to the board, you held your head up high, shoulders relaxed in a confident posture and voice steady as you spoke to the top leads about the project. Executing the test run proved to be successful, and you told the board Not only does it prove to be more effective in safe and secure purchases, it also saves the company more money, money to spend on more projects.
That seemed to open their eyes, and your father approved of the project, sending the newly designed security to the technical department, where they would produce more. The proud faces of the board made your heart swell, more than it had in the past couple of years.
You felt accomplished, though it was only your first successful project, you took all the victories you could get. Word spread throughout the company and throughout the day, you had several colleagues from different departments congratulate you, even word had spread to Happy, who had bought you a celebratory pastry.
At the end of the day, when you were getting ready to pack up for the day, the door to your office opened and you looked ahead, catching the sight of Bucky with a bouquet of dahlias in his hand. A smile broke out on your face as you stood from your desk when he made his way over to you.
Wrapping his arms around your waist, Bucky lifted you up off the ground and spun you in circles, your arms coming to wrap around his neck. Laughs passed through your lips the more he spun you, the way he gently held you in his embrace told you that he had found out.
“God I am so proud of you,” he whispered in your ear when he placed you on your feet again, though he kept his hold around your waist tight. “I knew you could do this.”
You pulled back from his embrace slightly, hands sliding from the back of his neck to gently cradle his jaw. Your thumb swept over his stubbled jaw, delicately tracing the old scars on his chin.
“I couldn’t have done this without you, James,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. “You made it possible for me to do this.”
Bucky smiled and leaned his forehead against yours before he placed his lips on yours, pulling you in for a soft, delicate kiss. His hands slid over your back, hugging you closer to his chest. He pulled away only to present you with the beautiful bouquet of flowers, a smile made its way over your face.
“Just when I thought I couldn’t love you anymore,” you said, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose, but he lifted his head so that your lips grazed over his. A giggle passed through your lips as you grabbed the bouquet from his grasp, and you lifted the flowers up to your nose.
“Why don’t we celebrate tonight? We can go to that steakhouse and afterwards you can spend the night? Maybe pick up some desert on the way home… what do you say?”
Your smile seemed to widen when he reached for your bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers and led you out of your office.
“That sounds perfect,” you mustered out, leaning your head against his shoulder.
The night went perfectly well, everything you had hoped for. An amazingly delicious dinner, a sweet dessert and an innocent kiss that led to a steamy evening ended with you laying on Bucky’s chest, his fingertips ghosting over the bare skin of your shoulder.
Sweat covered both of your skin, chest rising and falling into a steady pace and Bucky’s lips barely grazed the top of your head. His touch went from your shoulder all the way down to your hand, where he gently held in his much bigger hand.
“You remember Peggy, Steve’s wife?” Bucky’s husky voice broke through the silence. You hummed. “Her and Sam are throwing a party for Steve’s birthday, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. We don’t have to stay the entire thing, but I think it would make Steve really happy if you were there-”
“I would love to come with you,” you answered genuinely, Bucky’s tense posture disintegrated once he heard your answer and felt your hand move in circles on his chest. “It gives me a chance to be closer to your Peggy, right? I could always use an extra friend.”
The frown that once covered his face now disappeared and a smile took its place as Bucky held you tighter, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.”
You snuggled deeper into his chest and pressed a kiss below his collarbone. “I’m proud of myself, too.”
—
“Love? You almost ready?” Bucky called, making a few last adjustments to his bow tie. When he got no answer, he made his way out of the bathroom and to the closet where he saw you struggling with the zipper of your dress.
Your eyes flickered over to his, a small, embarrassed laugh passed through your lips. “Would you mind?” you softly asked and Bucky nodded and came up behind you, and you held your hair, away from your shoulders.
His fingers grasped the zipper and gently slid upwards along your spine until the dress fit snug on your body. He slid his hands down the side of your waist until they stopped at your hips, he lifted his head to meet your gaze in the mirror.
His cerulean eyes raked over the dark fabric that molded to your figure, showing off the dips and curves of your body. An off the shoulder dress that flowed down to your feet with a slit coming to end just above the mid of your thigh and a sweetheart necklace that sweetly showed off the necklace Bucky had bought for you.
It was a dress you never thought you would ever want to wear, but since being back with Bucky, you had gained more confidence in your appearance. Brock would have forced you into a dress of his choosing, whereas this was a purchase made by you.
“You look so beautiful, sweet girl.”
A heat spread across your face and you looked at him shly over your shoulder, your gaze raking over the neatly pressed black tuxedo he had on. You turned in his embrace and slid your hands up his chest, fixing the lapels of his blazer.
“And you look so handsome, my love.” you said, a smile spread across his face and a slight pink tinged his cheeks. “Shall we?”
Bucky smiled and nodded and gently gripped your hand, leading you downstairs to the car waiting in the driveway. The drive was brisk, you held a small conversation with Collins as Bucky watched with a smile of admiration, tightly holding your hand.
Arriving at the destination, you looked over at Bucky before exiting the car with him following in suit. You held his hand tightly as he led you up the small set of stairs, walking until you heard, “James!”
Bucky looked over to see Peggy Carter alongside Steve walking to the two of you. Peggy held her arms out and quickly drew you into a tight embrace. “Oh, it’s so good to see you two!”
“You too, Peg. And you too, punk,” Bucky said, nudging Steve in the shoulder. The blonde patted his friend on the back, pulling him into a tight embrace.
“You look absolutely stunning, Y/n,” she gaped, running her hands over your shoulders. You chuckled and bashfully nodded.
“Thank you. And thank you for inviting me,” you said, feeling Bucky slide his hand across your back in soothing circles. Peggy shook her head and brushed you off.
“Please, you’re practically family at this point,” she said with a wink. “Now, come on inside, everyone is already waiting.”
Bucky brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a sweet kiss to your knuckles, you smiled at him and hugged his bicep as the two of you followed the couple into their home.
The night was spent catching up with old friends and you felt a sense of peace wash over you. An all too familiar feeling now, being in the presence of the people you have come to know as your family.
The parties that Brock had dragged you to were nothing like this; it was strictly business, nothing more, nothing less. With his darling wife next to him, he put on the facade of a successful, wealthy man, though it was a deception.
But with Bucky at your side, nothing felt forced, you weren’t coerced into something you didn’t feel comfortable in. He held your hand throughout the night, his touch never leaving your body, whether it was a hand around your waist, or his grip on your thigh, his touch never ceased.
Towards the end of the night, when guests had dispersed and only a few remained, Bucky led you out onto the balcony, his hand warm in yours. He came to a stop, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his arms wrap around your waist.
Bucky endearingly gazed down at you, and the sudden thought of your belongings in his living space merged into his mind. Without a second thought, Bucky leaned his forehead against yours and he whispered, “I think you should move in with me.”
Your gaze flickered to his, and the corners of your mouth gently lifted. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “I love you, and I want you with me all the time. When I wake up, when I fall asleep, when I have the worst bedhead, I want you with me through it all.”
You were fully smiling up at him and you nodded, tears welled into your eyes. You gently grasped his jaw and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. His eyes widened, but soon enough he melted into your embrace.
The concept of moving in never came to you, and Bucky worried if he was going too fast for you. He wasn’t sure if it was too quick, but with the little time you seemed to spend at your father’s dwindled down.
Unphased by his reaction, you pulled away and trailed your fingers along the side of his cheek and simply said, “I love you, James. I want you with me more than ever, honey.”
Bucky smiled and leaned his forehead against yours, “I’m yours, sweet girl. Always and forever.”
summary:In order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.
pairing:mob!bucky x stark!reader
word count: 4.2k
chapter warnings: references to death, abuse and violence,smut (18+), minor angst that turns into sweet sweet fluff
Rain still poured endlessly a week later. It was a different pour than that night, where everything had gone awry, the rain that fell from the dark grey sky was firm as it fell in splashes against the streets. Bucky would have normally enjoyed the gloomy weather, but the circumstances he found himself in prevented him from relishing the damp climate.
His nerves hadn’t seemed to settle ever since the fallout that happened on the state lines between him and Rumlow. Not even as he held your trembling body all the way back to New York, to the safety of your father’s house.
He wanted to stay with you, even after he carried you into the house, safely placing you in one of the spare rooms as Dr. Banner cleaned out the bullet wound in your side and sedated you for the night, Bucky wanted to stay with you through it all, but there was business he had to attend to.
Even after all of the events of the night, there was still a mess to be cleaned up, questions were raised about an explosion a few miles away from the state line border and of course the first person detectives questioned happened to be you.
The wife of Brock Rumlow had to somewhat be involved with what happened twenty-four hours beforehand, right?
But lo and behold, your father answered all questions for you, standing next to your bed with a gentle hand on your shoulder as he told the detectives the true nature of your relationship with your husband, going into detail on how truly horrible and cruel your husband had been to you.
There wasn’t a chance he was going to let you take the fall for your husband’s mistakes and affiliation. He would pay millions of dollars to a high ranking police officer than have you suffer the consequence of a life you never took part of.
Though your father was ecstatic to have you back, having cleaned your old room with fresh sheets and vacuumed carpets, he had given you your space over the past week, only coming into your room to wish you a good morning and good night. You hadn’t had the energy to leave the bed.
Bucky had tried to reach out, tried to send you at least a comforting text message if not a few minute phone call, but he hadn’t had the chance. Dealing with the fall of Hydra, his closest business inquiries insisted that he pick up Hydra’s former clients.
But Bucky had thought it was too soon, and there were more important matters to deal with. He didn’t care about his business affairs at the moment, all he wanted was to be there for you.
You, the woman who had gone through absolute terror the past five, nearly six years, trapped alone in a penthouse with a vile husband and his cruel men. He didn’t even know about the scars you don on your arms.
As he walked up the damp steps of the Stark household, Bucky lifted his fist, ready to knock, but he felt the familiar weight of the front door key in his suit jacket. He dug into the pockets and pulled out the small bronze key and quickly unlocked the door, quietly making his way inside.
It was eerily quiet when he slipped inside. The halls were darkened, only light came from the opened door at the end of the hall and with a step, Bucky made his way down the dark marble floors.
Peering inside, he saw Tony sitting at his desk on the phone, quietly speaking into the receiver as his brown eyes raked over the sheet of paper in his hand. Bucky could vaguely hear the conversation, but he picked up the hushed words of sleeping pills.
Taking a step into the office, Bucky made his way over to the desk and sat down at one of the chairs and took a glance around the room. The usually clean room was in slight disarray, he could faintly catch the glimpse of a death certificate.
The sound of the phone connecting with the landline tore his gaze away from the desktop to Tony, who looked at him with an uneasy stare.
“Trouble sleeping?”
“They’re not for me.” Tony stuck the piece of paper into one of the drawers of his desk. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for the past week.”
Bucky ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been busy dealing with the fallout of Hydra. It’s been hell trying to turn away every fucking client they ever had. Each person offered a higher price than the previous, I tried to get a spare minute, I swear,” A beat of silence passed before, “How is Y/n doing?”
Tony leaned back in his chair, reaching for the glass of bourbon that sat near his computer. “She’s seen better days. I have not gotten her to leave her room, she’s barely left her bed. I think her mind is just in shock from everything that happened.”
Bucky’s heart dropped into his stomach at the thought of you. He so desperately wanted to call you, to check in and see how you were doing, how the bullet wound in your side was healing. He never wanted to leave your side in the first place, but there was business to attend to and he knew deep down that it would backfire on him if he ignored it.
He could picture you with watery eyes, tear stained cheeks with a dejected look upon your face. He could already see the lump in the mattress.
“You know I should be pissed at you, but surprisingly I’m not,” Tony started, shooting back the rest of his drink. “You knew my daughter was being hurt by that fucking phsyco and was planning on taking him out by using evidence brought by her, that I’m pissed at, and,” He slammed the picture Ward had taken of you hard on the desk. “To wake up to a picture of my daughter with a knife held against her chest makes my blood boil.”
The picture of you stared back at Bucky and he felt sick to his stomach. “Tony, he threatened to kill you. You expect me to just ignore that and go along with my day knowing that?”
Tony scoffed. “Oh, please, boy. You really think anyone can get within radius of me? Rich billionaire philanthropists like me know that men like Brock Rumlow wouldn’t dare to get close to me. Not when I can send half of his men in body bags in just five minutes.”
“You may think that about yourself, but does Y/n?” Bucky questioned, posture straightening as Tony glanced away. “Because she came to me in tears, wondering if one wrong move on her end would make him put a bullet in your head. She was terrified of him killing her only parent for god’s sake, I wasn’t about to just ignore her.”
The older man’s eyes softened. “Look, I’m sorry, Tony, I never wanted to go behind your back, but this was something that you shouldn’t have known about. Your protective dad instincts would have only made it more obvious, which would have put her in more danger.”
He opened his mouth to interject, but Bucky beat him to it. “Don’t lie, you would have a hundred guards on the block of her penthouse. Which would have sold her out faster.”
Tony paused for a moment before realization settled in. He had seen this type of settlement thousands of times, but since it was his own daughter caught in the middle? It left a dread in his stomach.
“Well,” Tony leaned forward, setting his elbows atop of his desk. “if it had been anyone else, I would have sent a body bag already. But you, James… I know she’s safe when she’s with you. Your father would be proud of how you handled all of this. I know he would.”
The corners of Bucky’s lips lifted up slightly and he nodded, scratching the back of his neck. Tony glanced down at his watch, his brows furrowed when he glanced at the time.
“I have a meeting with one of the sergeants down at the station,” Tony gathered his coat and umbrella and stood. “Do you mind staying here with Y/n? She’s been really skittish lately and I don’t want her to think she’s alone.”
Bucky shook his head, jumping to his feet. “N-no, I don’t mind. I can check on her,” he rambled and followed Tony out into the hall. He placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and squeezed gently.
“You’re a good man, James. George would be proud,” A smile crossed Bucky’s face. “I’ll see you later.”
With a final nod, Bucky watched as Tony made his way out of the house. He stood in the dark hallway for a few more moments before he made his way down the corridor to the kitchen, where he picked a small glass teacup from the cabinets and placed a chamomile tea bag before setting a kettle on the stove to heat.
Chamomile seemed to be the tea that calmed you down no matter what, he noticed. Ever since you were a young teenager, you always aimed for either chamomile or peppermint, the taste sent comfort throughout your body.
Bucky had personally never been one for any type of tea, settling on black coffee instead of different tea bags and leaves, but he always made sure there was a stocked box at his house when the two of you were younger.
Once the tea kettle started to whistle, he carefully poured the steaming water into the teacup, watching a soft yellow color spread throughout the cup. He placed the cup on a small saucer plate and carefully carried it up the set of stairs that led to your room.
There was an unsettling feeling of anxiety course through him as he made his way closer and closer to your door until he stood just outside of it. His hand reached out to grasp the doorknob, but before he could turn the knob, he paused.
Would you even want to see him? It had been over a week since that fateful night, and on your side of everything, it looked like he had just dropped you off and fled for seven days straight, with no call or text.
But Bucky ignored the thoughts and pushed the door open as gently as possible and peered his head in. The first thing he noticed was how dark it was. The window was filled with condensation from the cold, wet weather raging outside, casting a gloomy grey color over every inch of the room.
He found you sitting at the window still, sitting with your knees pulled up to your chest. Your forehead leaned against the cool protectiveness of the glass, and you had your eyes closed, a vice grip around your arms seemed to be the only thing that grounded you.
Bucky cautiously made his way inside and shut the door softly. The clock resounded across the room, causing you to lift your head up from against the window. The skin on your forehead looked irritated from being pressed up against the glass.
Nothing could have prepared Bucky for the tears in your eyes.
Your lips were swollen, cheeks tainted with tear marks, and your eyes were filled with unshed tears, distress swimming in the shades of your eyes. You sniffled and wiped the sleeve of your shirt against your nose and cheek, catching all the stray tears that escaped.
“Hey, sweet girl-”
“What are you doing here?” your voice cut through his, raspy from disuse.
Bucky stepped further into your room and made his way closer to you. He placed the cup of tea on the small stand a few feet away from you and sat himself on the other side of the windowsill, he stretched out his legs and wrung his hands comfortably in his lap.
The scene reminded him a lot of when the two of you were younger, when you were well into your teenage years when he would bring you a steaming cup of chamomile tea during a stormy day. You would always complain how the humidity fizzed up your hair while the two of you watched old movies.
It felt like eons ago, when it would be just the two of you without any distractions; no school work, no boyfriends or girlfriends, no overbearing parents wondering if a suit or dress would be the right move.
Just the two of you, together, cuddled under a soft fleece blanket with a variety of snacks spread across your laps. It felt like a lifetime ago.
“Where have you been?” your voice tore him out of his mind as his eyes flickered to yours.
“I’m sorry, I had a lot of stuff to deal with, but I got it all taken care of,” Bucky said softly, scooting closer to you. He watched you bob your head up and down. “I tried to come and visit you, but there was just too much going on.”
Sniffling, you nodded and scratched at the side of your neck. More tears seemed to fill into your eyes the longer you looked at him. You didn’t know why, but the sudden emotions took control over you.
“What happens now?” you asked meekly. “Do you go back to your normal life without me?”
There wasn’t an accusatory tone to your voice, but he could of swrn there was a light sadness t it, like he was about to cast you to the side in the aftermath of the fall of his rival.
Bucky’s eyes widened and he stopped scratching the stubble on his chin. “W-what? No, no, of course not. Why-why would you think something like that?”
Bucky made his way closer to you, scooting across the soft cushions to place a gentle hand on your ankle. He rubbed his hand along your legs as more tears filled your eyes, some spilling onto your cheeks.
“Please, Y/n, talk to me-”
“I don’t deserve to be loved by you, Bucky,” you cried, turning away from him to bury your face in your hands. Your shoulders shook with sobs and Bucky felt powerless, watching you cave into the monstrosity thoughts your ex-husband drilled into your head. “I left you without a single explanation, without a single care for almost six years. I never spoke to you, never calle on your birthday, or-or the anniversary of your father’s passing, even though I always promised you I would be there and I wasn’t. I don’t know how you don’t hate me.”
Tears cascaded down your cheeks like waterfalls, and Bucky closed the space between you and crushed you to his chest, holding onto your shoulders for dear life. As if you would disappear at any given moment.
It broke his heart at the thought of him not wanting you in the slightest way. He had practically been in love with you before Brock Rumlow even made himself present in the picture. Growing up together, going to the same schools, taking vacations to the same destinations had made it hard to not fall in love with you.
He couldn’t imagine a life that didn’t have you by his side. You could have sold him to his worst enemy, someone worse than the men of Hydra, and he would still find a way to gravel down at your feet.
He had already lost so much time, he wouldn’t dare to lose even more time with you.
“Nothing on this planet,” he started, gently grasping your chin in his delicate grasp. “would ever make me hate you, Y/n. There is nothing in this universe that would make me loathe you, that would make me banish you from my life. Please don’t think that of me, because it crushes me to think that I would ever hate you.”
Your teary eyes met his gaze and he wiped away all the stray tears that cascaded down your cheeks. He leaned in and kissed all the tears away, his hand slid from your chin to the bottom of your jaw.
“I love you so much, Y/n, I would abandon the company my father left me if it meant that I got to be with you,” His free hand found purchase on your waist, fingers slipping under the fabric of your sleepshirt to graze over the bandage covering your side. “How are you healing?”
You shrugged and whispered, “It doesn’t hurt anymore. Just waiting for it to close.”
Bucky nodded and leaned his forehead against yours. “I meant what I said, sweet girl. I love you so much, I just want you to be happy.”
“How can you still love me? After everything I did, after I ignored you?” You whispered against the skin on his cheek.
“Because it was you who was there for me after my father died, even though I tried to push you away. You were there by my side in the hospital when I got caught in that gun fight, you were the one who helped me with my shoulder. You helped me relax when we took vacations in Romania. You were the one to pull me out of my depression when we started college, midway through spring semester when Dad died. I didn’t deserve it, after how much I pushed you away, but you still came back, didn’t you?”
You meekly nodded. “So allow me to do the same. I have never been or will be mad at you for this. I know you couldn’t reach out to me, that’s why I always asked your father to check up on you for me.”
A smile grazed your lips as he lifted up the sleeve of your right arm and pressed a kiss over the scar on your wrist. The small cigar burn didn’t hurt anymore, Bucky pressed his lips to the raised skin.
“We’ve lost so much time, Y/n, I don’t want to lose anymore with you.”
“I don’t either,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you and I don’t want to lose you again.”
Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek, trailing down your jaw until he met your lips. He gently nipped at your lower lip, the corners of his own lips formed into a smile against your mouth.
You placed with the strands of loose hairs at the nape of his neck and sighed into his mouth. The tension from your shoulders seemed to disappear into the air the longer you pressed up against him, the tiger he held you and the more he kissed you.
You hadn’t been touched like this in years, and if it were entirely possible, you would have melted at his feet. Once his lips connected with the soft sensitive skin of your neck, you nearly melted into his embrace.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and allowed him to carry you over to your bed, where he laid you gently across the soft sheets. He hovered over you and rolled his hips over yours, keeping his lips against your neck.
“Let me show you how much I love you,” Bucky whispered against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of you.”
He trailed kisses from the column of your throat, to your jaw before landing on your lips. You melted into his mouth, arms coming up to wrap around his neck to pull him closer. Wordlessly, you nodded, pulling back to lean your forehead against his.
“Show me.”
Bucky softly pressed his lips to yours as he gently pushed you to lay down, back against the mattress. He hovered over you, his lips molding into yours while his fingers delicately slid under your shirt.
Your skin was warm against his cool hands and you could feel his fingers exploring your stomach, tenderly lining over the bandage on your side, gently grazing the bottom of your breasts. You moaned softly when his hand came to cup your breast, his thumb toying with your nipple.
Your hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, you tugged at the black fabric that covered his broad shoulders. “Off,” you moaned against his lips, and he kept his lips against yours as he unbuttoned his shirt, peeling it off his shoulders.
The sleeve of tattoos caught your eye and you found yourself pulling back, wide eyes glazing over his arm. Your fingers trailed along the intricate designs that ran from his wrist to his shoulder, tracing over a design of a marigold, you pressed a kiss to the soft orange petals.
“I think they’re beautiful,” you whispered as you looked up at him
He pulled away from you to look you in the eye, moving his hands down to the hem of your shirt. Once you gave him a firm nod, he slowly peeled the soft material of your shirt, doing the same with your shorts until you were bare underneath him.
You could have sworn you saw his eyes light up as they raked over your body. Soft skin adorned with the littlest of scars, he leaned down and pressed a kiss at your collarbone, moving down slowly to plant a wet kiss between the valley of your breasts, a kiss pressed to both of your hip bones before making his way down to your navel.
When he buried his face in between your legs, your fingers immediately crawled to Bucky’s hair, tugging the brunette roots. He kept one hand on your thigh, snaking his fingers against your inner thigh to hold you, and his other hand made its way up to your wrist. Between the pleasure that radiated from your core, you felt him caress the small burn scar on the inside of your wrist, more whimpers and moans escaped your lips.
Your skin tingled wherever he touched you. Across your stomach, down the side of your waist, the outer skin of your thigh, his touch made you shiver and tremble. You held his hand as he hovered over you again, he dragged his nose across your cheek until he brushed his lips over yours for a second, before pressing harder against your mouth.
Once he sank into you, you nearly saw stars. He slid into you, pausing for a moment to catch your breaths. Bucky looked down at you, the blues of his eyes filled with admiration, he leaned his forehead against yours and whispered against your lips, “I love you so much, sweet girl.”
You lost all breath once he found his pace, you felt his heavy breaths against the exposed skin of your collarbone when he pressed his sweaty cheek against your jaw. He muttered praises in your ear and more breathy moans left your lips when he found his rhythm.
“I love you too, James,” you breathed against his sweaty neck. You felt him smile against your cheek, placing a feather light kiss against the skin there.
He could feel you start to reach your climax, and he held you tightly, arms changing your sweaty, trembling shoulder. You came with his name on your tongue, leaning your head into his as breathy moans of Bucky bounced off his sweat slicked skin.
With one last breathy exhale, Bucky lowered himself against you, his arms curling tight around your body. He laid his head on your chest His fingers traced over the skin on your hip, the tips of his nails delicately danced across the skin of your leg. You looked down at him and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear and trailed your finger down his cheek.
He looked up at you, cerulean eyes gaping into yours. The beautiful shades of your eyes looked better than he had seen in a long time, no more red, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks anymore.
“Whenever you’re ready, I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”
You smiled and leaned your forehead against the top of Bucky’s head, delicately threading your fingers through his hair. You didn’t know if you were ready for anything, but a part of you knew that everything would be okay. Rebuilding not only the relationship with Bucky, but also the relationship between you and your father, you practically had a job lined up at Stark Industries in less than twenty-four hours when you arrived home.
Maybe you needed time, free from a husband that imprisoned you in your own home, from vicious and cruel men who threw taunts and insults at you, you knew there would be a journey until you found yourself again.
But one thing you knew is that you wanted Bucky at your side through it all.
summary: In order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.
pairing:mob!bucky x stark!reader
word count: 5.0k
chapter warnings: canon level violence, injury, language, character death, the final showdown
Fury drove Bucky to break all traffic laws. He hadn’t felt any notion of anger ever since his father’s unexpected passing, when he took the bearing role of man of the house, watching over his mother and sister. But the second he received your location, he grabbed all the weapons he could get his hands on and headed straight for the highway.
He didn’t waste a single second, not when your life was sitting in the grimey clutches of Hydra. Bucky couldn’t lose you, not again.
Ignoring all the sense in his head, he headed straight for the black
There was an unsettling feeling in his stomach when he pulled into the lot that led to the factory, he flicked the headlights off and threw the car in neutral, aiming to be as silent as possible. He pulled in as further, avoiding the already present SUV’s.
“So, how are we doing this, boys?” Natasha’s velvety voice cut through the silence. Bucky took the keys out of the ignition and glanced at her. His gaze caught Sam and Steve’s as well and a plan quickly formed in his head.
“Did you bring the detonator?” Bucky asked, turning to look at Natasha. She reached under the seat and grabbed a circular device, along with a blasting cap, silently answering his question.
He didn’t enjoy this plan in the slightest; triggering an explosive device in an unstable factory with you inside wasn’t his ideal plan. The thought of putting you in harm’s way made him sick to his stomach, but if it was the only way to safely, he would begrudgingly have to take the risk.
Though he planned to keep it as far away from you as possible.
And if there was a possibility that he could lure Rumlow away, he could have a clear path to you.
Bucky grabbed the magazine of his gun, double checking that it was fully loaded. “I’ll circle buy. Stay here until Collins arrives with Lang and the others. I’ll ping you when I get visual.”
With a final nod to Steve, he threw open the door and sank down to the ground, keeping himself lowered as he made his way over to the building. The muffled sound of hushed voices hit him when he reached the worn out walls.
Keeping himself low, he swiftly made his way to the other side of the factory, discreetly lifting his head so that he could assess who was where, and immediately his blue eyes flickered to your worn out figure.
Huddled in the wooden chair, arms crossed tightly across your chest with your head leaning against your shoulder, Bucky caught a glimpse of the gash on your temple and the blood that dried to the side of your cheek.
Your eyes were filled with unshed tears brimming at your waterline, and he could see how you tried to muffle your sniffles in the crook of your elbow. Bucky’s heart cleaved in half as he watched you look around with a fear in your eyes, a sense of rage filtered through him.
Grant Ward paced back and forth in front of you, scowling at you when a whimper passed through your lips, as if he was disgusted with the emotion you were showing.
Specks of blood dripped onto the soft pink fabric of your shirt and the ends of your pajama pants were dirtied and slightly torn from when Brock had dragged you into the factory building. Even the dark colored sweater you wore on your shoulders had a few drops of blood and dirt.
His eyes flickered towards the group of men dressed in black, a darkness covered the blues of his irises. He noticed how you jumped when someone raised their voice, and how tense you had become when Ward continued to pace in front of you.
Bucky pulled out his phone and sent a message to Steve, giving him the all clear. He begrudgingly tore his eyes away from your trembling form and looked over to Rumlow, who had his hands buried deep in his hair.
“What’s the play here, boss?” Bucky heard one of the men whisper rather loudly. A glance to your direction, he could see your gaze was still centered on the floor.
“Yeah, how are we supposed to find a way out of this mess?”
He saw Rumlow take a deep breath before punching one of the men roughly across the face. “Patience, boys, patience. We’ve got the daughter of New York’s most wealthy man in our possession.”
Bucky’s frown deepened as peered over at the group of men. Rumlow stood over his men, fingers lightly scraping his stubble as he glanced over to you. Bucky followed his gaze and tightened his fist.
“You think Stark will just give you money like that?”
“You underestimate how valuable that woman really is,” Rumlow chuckled darkly. “I bet his price will go if you add a few more scrapes and bruises to her delicate face. That’ll really send him over the edge.”
The quiet vibration of his phone was the only thing that grounded Bucky, when he glanced down and caught a glimpse of Steve’s confirmation, he reluctantly pulled away, until he heard Rumlow sneer at his men.
“If that goes south, then we’ll kill her and dump her in the river. Erase our tracks, Sitwell will handle that.”
Red hot anger possessed Bucky as he reached for the grip of his gun, but the quiet sniffles halted his movement. Sparing a glance at your fear stricken expression, the redness that covered the whites of your eyes and the ripped skin on your lips, he couldn’t – wouldn’t risk a stray bullet hitting you.
“Her father will pin it on you without a doubt, you know that,” He heard Rollins speak. “Sitwell may be good, but Stark is smarter.”
Bucky had only seen Tony Stark angry a handful of times, majority of it was when a threat was posed on your life. After the crash that left both you and Bucky injured, after one of his former employees had ‘accidentally’ tripped you during one of your soccer matches that left you with a sprained ankle and when one of his clients had called you every name in the book after you peered into your father’s office to ask him a simple question.
You had never seen him so angry, seen his face so red before, brown eyes filled with nothing but pure anger. He apologized profoundly to you, for having to witness his anger and being on the receiving end of his former client’s harsh words.
But if he had ever found out that someone had done physical harm to you, Bucky guessed that person would have hell to pay.
“Fuck,” Rumlow cursed, kicking the scatterd pieces of wood that littered the floors. You flinched at the sudden movement.
Ignoring the gaping hole in his stomach, Bucky made his way back to the car, keeping his figure low to the ground, keeping himself out of sight. Not that Rumlow could see anything through the dirtied grimy windows, they looked to be withered over the years of harsh winds and rain.
He noticed the second car parked a few feet away from his, the driver’s window was rolled down a few inches but he could clearly see the shadow of Scott and Collin’s body as he leaned over the steering wheel. He could also count the other two men that sat in the seats, armed with guns and knives strapped to their chests.
Bucky beckoned them out, pounding against the side of the SUV he arrived in, directing them in the direction of the shrubs that were angled away from the factory. One by one, Steve, Natasha and Sam led them over to where Bucky was standing.
“What’s the play here, boss?” Collins asked, placing a delicate hand under the machine gun secured to his chassis.
Bucky glanced at the withered building and exhaled sharply. “Rumlow had his two right-hand men with him, Jack Rollins and Grant Ward inside. He’s got Ward guarding Y/n and the rest of his men are surrounding the entrance.”
“What’s the play here then? We’re not going through the front entrance though, right? I mean that just means that Y/n is at a high risk of becoming a casualty.” Sam said.
Barging through the front door would only rile up Rumlow, and there was a possibility he would take it out on you. And from the state in which Bucky saw you, with teary eyes and a bloody head, he knew the chances were high.
“No. We’re causing a distraction to draw out Rumlow, to get him away from Y/n. Nat will plant a detonator that is gonna be set to go off in five minutes, it’s not powerful, but it’s enough to cause thousands of dollars worth of damage. Once it goes off, we rush in. Collins and Lang will cover the exits, Steve and I will deal with Ward and safely guide Y/n to the car. Nat will be there if we need back up.”
Hushed approvals were murmured and Bucky nodded his head. “Getting Y/n safely out is the main objective tonight. You can have your revenge on Rumlow for all that he’s done to the Stark’s and the havoc Hydra has wrecked on our family.”
With a final nod, he slipped a small communication link into his ear and glanced over to Natasha, who smiled and carefully made her way over to the factory. Bucky watched as she kept low to the ground, keeping the bomb in her hand, slowly but surely making her way around the building, away from you.
Steve walked up beside Bucky as the men around him started to fill their weapons with ammunition, double cheing to make sure they had everything set for what was about to come. His men knew how close the Stark’s were to the Barnes, a partnership that had lasted almost three generations in, starting with Howard Stark and Bucky’s grandfather.
His men knew of the relationship between you and Bucky, how the close relationship you had started to blossom into something more. The years of close friendship that turned into romantic connection, despite years being spent apart.
“We’re almost there, Buck. Just a few more steps and then she’s back with her father. That’s the important thing, right? Her being safe?” Steve placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.
“You know I’m not gonna relax until she’s back with Tony,” Bucky muttered, checking the magazine of his gun before sliding it back into place. “Even after that, I’m still gonna worry. Rumlow has hundreds of employees and I only saw a handful. Meaning they’re still out there.”
“And I know for a fact they won’t go near her because of her name and because of you,” Steve cut in gently. “The same guy who wouldn’t let her lift a finger when she had a concussion. You have to take this step by step, for her sake, or else everything you think is gonna go wrong will.”
Steve gripped Bucky’s flesh a little harder, meeting his worried gaze. “You love her more than anything. Use that to push through.”
Bucky nodded, swallowing down the worry that threatened to suffocate him as he nodded at Steve. There were times when he could be overbearing, too worried about what was going on in Bucky’s head, but Steve had always managed to push through the worry and be straightforward.
“You alway manage to say the right thing,” Bucky said, the corners of his mouth dared to lift up in amusement. “Sometimes it’s fucking annoying.”
The blonde chuckled and gave Bucky one last pat against the shoulders before pulling out his own gun, checking his ammunition status, tucking more rounds into the waistband of his pants.
Looking around Bucky watched as his most trusted men, the ones he would risk his life for, packed their weapons, slipping more ammunition wherever they could fit; boots, pockets, the waistband of their pants. A soft smile crossed his face, a sudden wave of emotion hit him, the notion that only a few had met you.
Yet they were willing to run into the direction of Hydra, the rivalry that had been going on for decades.
Vibration sounded against the top of the SUV and tore through the silence. Collins glanced over to Steve and Sam, eyes flickering back to the hunched over figure. Bucky’s head shot up and he lunged for his phone, unlocking it to see a confirmation ping from Natasha.
A message to confirm the bomb was in place.
All he needed was for Natasha to make it back to the car. In which he had no doubt in her, she could take out half of his men, including himself if she really tried. When he caught the sight of her red hair, he pulled the detonator from his pocket.
Glancing over to his confidants, he tightly gripped the glock in his and pressed down on the red button.
—
Every passing second made your head feel worse. The throbbing in your head seemed to intensify, the only thing you could really do in the moment as you leaned your head against your shoulder, curling into the wooden chair.
The sweater you wore on your shoulders did little to warm you up; with the temperature of the factory low you nearly saw your breath. The rain had lightly soaked into the cotton fabric, you did what you could to warm up.
Steadily as minutes passed by at an agonizing long pace, more of your husband’s men seemed to file in. Not that many, though, only less than ten of the vast amount of men Brock had to begin with.
You could faintly hear their conversation from the other side of the factory, their hushed voices rising in irritation, but you paid little attention to them, your eyes were blurry as tears clouded your vision.
Sniffling as quiet as you could, you lifted your head to see Ward pacing in front of you, sending you scowls and sneers. You did best to ignore him, keeping your teary eyed gaze on the puddles that covered the cement grounds.
The sudden sound of your husband curing and kicking a chair startled you, pulling a flinch out of you. Ward scoffed and paused his pacing, his arms came to cross over his chest as he looked at your weakened form.
“Your daddy isn’t coming to bail you out of this one, huh?”
His words didn’t reach your ears, you didn’t even think you had the energy to lift your head into an upwards position.
Your eyes flickered up to his, but you ignored him. You heard him scoff again.
Taking a small breath in, you moved your head to the other side of the chair, taking a glance over to Rumlow’s direction. His shoulders fell in angry heaves, you could tell from his body language that he was another type of anger, one who had yet to witness till now.
You never thought he would take it to this extent; taking you to stateline, hiding out in an abandoned building and taking a threatening picture of a knife being held against your throat that was surely to be sent to your father.
As minutes, maybe hours passed by, you felt the pulsing in your head increase by the second. You watched as your husband made his way over to you, glaring down upon you with a loathing look.
Avoiding his gaze only seemed to edge him on more when he slowly knelt to your height, grabbing a hold tight grip to your hair. A gasp passed through your chapped lips, one that turned into whimper.
“I hope it was all worth it, darling,” Brock sneered into your ear.
It was.
Even if you were certain you weren’t going to make it, having overheard a bit of his conversation with Rollins, it was all worth the risk. You knew that your father would be okay, given the amount of personal friends the man had. The fear and terror were worth it.
Rumlow pushed your head and released his grip from your hair, a few stray tears rolled down your cheek. You quickly brushed over them as he stood up, wiping the back of your sleeve across your damp cheeks.
He opened his mouth to say another thing, but the sudden thundering of an explosion caused him to fall a few steps forward. The explosion shook the unstable warehouse, and a yelp left your lips as you tumbled out of your seat and onto the grimey floors.
Rumlow’s eyes lit up with anger as he quickly regained his balance, glancing at the small flames from the smudged windows, the orange hue breaking through.
He glanced down at your shaken form, surveying as you tried to stand. In a fluid motion, he leaned down and grabbed your elbow, bringing you up against him to lean against his chest.
Without a care, your husband tossed you to Ward as he pulled out a gun, unlatching the safety. “Stay here. Don’t let her get away, I’m gonna check to see what the fuck that was.”
You watched helplessly as he made his way down the hall. Ward’s grip on your arms were tight, enough to the point where bruising was evident.
There were beats of silence that passed, aside from the sound of rain and the heavy breaths of Garrett and Beckers. Ward tightened his grip and held you tightly against him, you couldn’t even try to get away, even if you tried.
The door was suddenly ripped open and two small steel spheres came tumbling in, and with a soft click, smoke beagin to filter through the room, spraying out of the orbs. Ward shattered shouting for Garrett and in the brief moment his grip loosened, you slammed your elbow down hard against his ribs.
He let out a loud groan and you pushed yourself away from him. The room began to fill more and more with smoke, the vapor making it difficult to see within three inches. You kicked in his knee as best you could, the little self defense knowledge now wearing to a thin.
Ward fell onto one of his knees and reached out a hand, tightly gripping your wrist. He pulled you forward, despite you dragging your feet into the ground to halt his movements.
“Stop,” you warned, voice trembling. Your heels dug into the ground and dragged you forward, but a shot rang out through the smoke filled room and halted Ward’s movements. He fell forward in a heap, groaning weakly as his hold released.
You stared in shock, pulling your arms tight to your chest as you backed up. The pounding in your head made it impossible to hear the approaching footsteps, and you almost missed the gentle hand that came to rest on your shoulder.
Out of reflex you flinched and turned around, holding your fists to defend yourself, but the sight of sparkling blue eyes made you freeze in your movements. He stared at you, eyes wide with a mixture of both shock and relief.
“Bucky?” you choked out, tears spilling out of your eyes endlessly, and without warning, you crashed straight into his arms.
The weapons he held tightly in his hands fell to the floor as he caged his arms around you, pulling you tightly to his chest, his hands coaxed gently down your spine before moving up to cradle the back of your head.
A strangled sob passed through your lips as you held onto him tighter, if that were even possible. Bucky pulled your head away from his chest, cupping the sides of your face to get a clearer and closer look at you.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Questions filtered out of his mouth, and despite the pounding in your head, you nodded.
“H-how did… what are you doing here?” you mumbled, watching as he tried to wipe away the dried blood on the side of your face. “How did you find me?”
Bucky let out an exhale, “You didn’t text me when you got home. I knew something was wrong.”
If it were entirely possible, you could’ve burst into tears at that very moment, but Bucky’s gentle hold kept your tears at bay. You glanced over your shoulder to see Steve lingering by the door, once he caught your gaze, he sent you a soft smile.
“You came for me?”
“I’m not losing you again, sweet girl.” Bucky whispered as he pressed a soft, tender kiss to your forehead.
You relished his presence for minutes, holding onto him tightly as Bucky called Steve over. But when he made his way over to you, the low dimmed lights suddenly gave out, plunging the entire factory into complete darkness.
Bucky looked around at the sudden darkness, trying to find Steve. He still kept his hold on you, but when he took a step towards the direction Steve was, he felt you freeze into place.
“Stay here, Y/n.”
He still held you at arm’s length, keeping his hand gently on your wrist. Your cold fingers shakily rested over his, your nails lightly scratching his skin, in a way to prove to you that he was really here.
You ignored the conversation between Steve and Bucky, and just as the hold on your shoulders loosened a tiny bit, a rough hand clamped down on your shoulder and pulled you to a sturdy chest. Another hand clamped down hard on your mouth, silencing you before you had the chance to cry out.
“Y/n?”
Muffled whimpers passed through the hand that was clamped over your mouth, you kicked your legs, slamming your foot on the ground in order to gain attention from someone - anyone. You grasped the familiar wrist of your husband just as he sneered into your ear, “Shut up.”
“Y/n!”
The chill of the night rain and breeze hit you as Rumlow began to drag you out, despite you kicking and clawing at his grip. He ignored it and heaved you up against his chest, wrapping arm arm around your waist.
You screamed and tugged against his hand until he released the clasp he had over your mouth, but the grip on your waist did not let up. He kept dragging you across the empty lot until the back doors bursted open.
Bucky tore through the doors, gun held tightly in his hand as his cerulean eyes raked over the landscape before landing on you and your husband. Rumlow halted in his movements and reached behind him to grab the gun that was settled in the belt of his pants. He held the barrel against your neck.
“You move one more fucking step and I put a bullet in her throat.”
Blue eyes wide with anger and rage flickered over to the weapon in his hand, the one pointed at you. His gaze went to your eyes, seeing them filled with fear as your husband tightened the hold around your waist.
“Long time no see Barnes, I haven’t seen you ever since your little redhead friend blew up one of my properties. Guess she still has the same taste for pyrotechnics, huh?”
Rumlow taunted, pushing the barrel of the gun deeper into your neck. You squeezed your eyes shut as his chin came to rest on your shoulder just as Bucky cocked the weapon in his hand.
“I guess she has a taste for unsupported buildings. I mean, she took down yours with just a few samples of Stark’s technology. Down your building went, in just a few short minutes.”
Rumlow’s smirk faltered. “I’’ll fucking kill her, you understand? I will kill this fucking woman and not a shade will change on my face.”
“Do that and you’ll be starting a war with Stark. And there is nowhere in this world where you will be safe from Stark. You underestimate how powerful he really is when his one and only daughter is in harm’s way.”
Every bit of Bucky’s words seemed to draw more anger into Rumlow as he trailed the gun from the crook of your neck up against your cheek until it settled against your temple. You couldn’t hold in the tears as they slipped past your cheeks.
“You and I both know you can’t get within a hundred foot radius of Tony Stark anyways, so if you kill her, you’re signing your death warrant.” Bucky nearly growled.
His eyes flickered to yours for a moment, the shades of his azure eyes softening for a moment as he looked at you. The tear marks on your cheeks, the blood cakes to the side of your cheek, the wide look in your eyes that was filled with fear.
Rumlow faltered in his stance, the grip around you slacked and the gun he held against your temple wasn’t as pointed as it was. And for the moment his grip around you fell, you slammed the heel of your foot into his ankle, and a scuffle erupted between the two of you as you fought to get away from him. He grunted and cried out, pushing you away before a shot rang out through the empty night air.
The breath from Bucky’s lungs was stolen as he stumbled forward, eyes wide when a strangled scream left your lips.
You were hunched over, knees barely skimming the pebbles on the ground as your hand reached out to steady yourself. Breaths came in too fast, and when you glanced down to your side, you saw the crimson that slowly started to spread across your pink shirt.
Gasps left your lips and in your brief moment of pain, Rumlow stood over you, pure hatred in his eyes as he pointed the gun to the back of your head.
A bullet planted itself in his abdomen before he had the chance to place his finger over the trigger, and he fell to the muddy ground with a loud thud.
But that didn’t matter to Bucky, he ignored Rumlow’s groans as he took cautious steps towards you to see your hand coated with blood. Your blood. Slowly, he made his way over to you, taking slow, cautious steps so as to not frighten you.
But when you looked up at him with a fear stricken face and wet cheek, he damn near lost his composure.
“Look at me, Y/n,” His hand gently grasped your bicep and he pulled you up, holding you against his chest. His other hand lifted up the edge of your shirt to see the small bleeding wound. “You’re okay, it’s just a graze, okay? You’re gonna be just fine, sweet girl, you’re gonna be fine, I promise.”
You nodded and glanced over at Rumlow, who looked at you despite the blood pooling out of his mouth. Without looking, you reached for Bucky’s gun and pointed it directly at him, taking shaky steps as you placed a hand over your bleeding side.
A surge of confidence shot through you while you gazed down at your husband, who looked at you with heavy eyelids. The gun shook in your grasp.
“Y/n-”
“You ruined me. For five years, you ruined me. You locked me in the penthouse, only allowing me to visit my dad on your accounts. For five years, I was locked away from my family, from my friends all because you wanted to boast to all your clients that you managed to nap Stark’s daughter!” Tears rushed down your face as you unlatched the safety.
“I hate you so much, for all the pain you cause me, for all the events you dragged me to, for all the times you threatened my dad. For all the times I shared a bed with you, I hated. I signed the fucking marriage certificate because I thought it would keep my dad safe, and I was willing to give everything up. I spent the first year stupidly doing whatever you asked and I was stupid to think that someone like you could ever be changed from a monster to a loving husband.
You were supposed to love me but you resented me instead. You locked me away and yelled at me when I didn’t slither into bed with you. When I didn’t wnat to go to those stupid parties t be your eye candy. I put up with your bullshit for five years and I’m over it. No one has ever hurt me the way you did.”
A soft warm hand came to rest on yours that held the gun, Bucky’s thumb caressing the back of your palm. You felt him press something up against your side and you looked over at him, seeing him look at you with the softest sympathetic look.
A look you hadn’t received in years.
“You’re not a killer, Y/n. Don’t put this on your conscience,” You opened your mouth to say something, but Bucky’s gentle voice cut you off. “I know you’re feeling hurt and pain in all of this, but if you do this, you’re ever gonna be able to come back from it. You’re too good for this, sweet girl.”
A sob left your lips as you dropped the gun and fell into his embrace weakly. You did not spare your husband a last glance as Bucky pointed the gun at him.
“I’ll always find a way to you, you fucking bitch,” Rumlow slurred, but Bucky held you so tightly to his chest you did not hear your husband’s harsh words.
Instead, you heard Bucky’s comforting and soothing voice and the steady beat of his heart.
“Close your eyes sweet girl,” he instructed softly. You did and felt him cover your other ear with his hand, his arms anchoring you to his chest. “We’re gonna be okay, alright? I’ve got you, I won’t let him hurt you again. I swear on my life.”
You felt no remorse or sympathy when a final gunshot rang out. You only felt the safety and solace of being in Bucky’s arms as he gently led you away from the nightmare.
And when you were finally settled into the backseat of the SUV, with Bucky’s warm hands pressing into your cold sides, for the first time in five years you allowed yourself to relax.
summary:In order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.
pairing:mob!bucky x stark!reader
word count: 4.1k
chapter warnings: angst, canon level violence, interrogation/minor torture, language
The pulsing of the club did not tear Bucky’s eyes away from his phone, he stared at the blackened screen like a hawk, keeping his eyes peeled for your text. He had convinced himself that he was being overbearing, but it had been over an hour since he left the Stark household. You always texted him the second you arrived home.
It was nagging at the back of his head; something was wrong. There wasn’t a possibility that it slipped your mind, not after the heartfelt conversation and the kiss you shared. He had been restless ever since the thirty minute mark, you only lived fifteen minutes away from your father, at least when the streets were empty. Which they were.
Rain poured down on the streets, reflecting Bucky’s mood as he sat at the bar. Steve eyed him from the otherside of the bartop carefully, gaze raking over his lousy posture. He slouched over, his chin rested on the back of his palms.
“If you’re that worried then call her. You’re gonna worry yourself sick if you just continue to wait,” Steve said as he made his way over to Bucky, offering him a shot. He shook his head. “C’mon, you need to relax. Maybe it slipped her mind.”
But Bucky shook his head, brows furrowed together. There wasn’t a possibility that you forgot, you never forgot those texts. Even when you were younger and would be going somewhere without your father or his men, he always demanded that you send a text when you arrived safely anywhere.
Especially when you were with Bucky, both of your fathers would be waiting for the ding of their phones to see that you made it back safely. It was something you had been doing for fifteen years and there was no possible way that it could have slipped your mind.
“She knows how important these texts are, she wouldn’t just forget,” Bucky grumbled as he took the glass and shot back the vodka, maintaining his composure as the alcohol slid down his throat. “Besides, even if I do call her, how do I know Rumlow won’t pick up?”
Steve pressed his lips into a thin line, opting to not say anything else. Bucky was tense; his shoulders were hunched and there was a tick in his jaw.
“Okay, so let’s think rationally about this,” Steve started and Bucky lifted his head. “We’ll start from here: Lang. He’s been on Rumlow’s street the past three nights this week, this is his fourth and final night. We’ll have either Nat or Sam check in with him, see if Rumlow and Y/n were seen walking into the penthouse.”
Bucky nodded and shook out his hands, noticing the slight tremble in them. He hadn’t felt this type of fear surge through him ever since his father’s passing and when he heard of the marriage between you and Rumlow.
Silently he stood up from the bar and made his way up the spiral staircase that led to his office. He ignored the various pairs of eyes that followed his every move, Bucky knew that if he made eye contact with at least one person, he would lose it. Steve and Sam wordlessly followed him into the office.
“I’ll check with Lang, see what he knows,” Sam said as he stepped into the hallway. Bucky took a sharp inhale of air before he began to filter through the sheets of paper that sat on his desk.
Evidence that you brought in, documentation of every move Rumlow had ever made, was spread out amongst his desk. Determination surged through him, blue eyes snapping from the locations of the warehouses he had taken control of.
“What’re you thinking, Buck?” Steve asked.
“Thinking of the lengths Rumlow will go just for self preservation,” Bucky muttered, “He hasn’t made a successful sale over the past three months, which means he’s losing funds. One way to get money is to use someone who’s the daughter of a very successful and richbusinessman.”
Steve stood beside him and glanced down at the warehouse list. All of the locations he had held his meetings and deals were within the city of New York.
“You think he’ll use Y/n as leverage?”
“I know he will. Rumlow is desperate and I know he doesn’t care what happens to her,” The words felt bitter on his tongue. “And Stark will do anything to ensure the safety of his daughter. I know that for certain.”
He knew that only because he had witnessed Stark’s top men almost beat the men that caused the car crash into a bloody pulp. Bucky managed to get out with a few scrapes and bruises and fortunately you only ended up with a concussion that took nearly an entire month to pass.
Bucky wanted to get a few good punches in himself, but he stood himself still, letting Stark’s men have their fair share. Then came Hayes, his father’s most trusted man, who got a few good licks on George’s behalf.
“Stark will give any amount if it means she’s returned safely, Rumlow isn’t that stupid enough to start a war with one of the wealthiest men in New York,” Bucky explained slowly, looking over the scattered papers.
“What about the threats Rumlow made? I mean, it made Y/n scared out of her mind,” Steve said, reminiscing how Bucky had mentioned it after you came to the club all those weeks ago.
“It’s a mind game he plays on her. He knows he can’t get within a hundred feet of Stark without catching a bullet. You try being within distance of him, I guarantee you Rhodes’ will catch him before he can even load his gun.” Bucky murmured. James Rhodes was fiercely protective of the man he had the pleasure of calling his best friend, and even more so with his daughter, who always saw him as a family friend, and not some employee of her father.
“She doesn’t know that, not when he’s pushing her into submission to get what he wants.” His eyes darted to the photo that stood on the very edge, with your smile brightening and beautiful; he hadn’t seen you smile like that since his early twenties, before Rumlow whisked you away from him.
When Sam stepped back into the office, Bucky’s eyes immediately flickered to him.
“There’s an up and down to this situation,” Sam started slowly, gauging Bucky’s reaction, noticing his hands beginning to tremble. “Lang says that Rumlow stopped by the penthouse, but only for a few minutes. He was the only one to go into the building, apparently he went to grab two duffle bags and a backpack. He didn’t see Y/n step out of the car, though he was able to catch her figure when Rumlow opened the car door. But, Lang was able to catch one of his men. Some guy named Carson.”
Oh Bucky knew him. Mitchell Carson was always stationed at the front door from what you had told him, he always made himself comfortable outside your bedroom door and always made himself present whenever you were sitting on the balcony. He always managed to strike fear into you whenever he was near you, watching and looming over you.
“Lang has him?”
Sam nodded. “I told him we’d meet at Stark’s old manufacturing building, the one off the highway. Figured you would want to have a conversation with him.”
Bucky wanted to have a little more than a conversation with him. He had his fair share of ‘conversations’ with other rivals, ones that ended in permanent blood stains embedded deep in concrete.
Only this time, he wasn’t aiming to hurt or kill Carson, he just needed answers. Where Rumlow was, what his plans were now that Hydra was close to dismantling. But most importantly, where you were, where Rumlow had taken you, and what his goal was with you.
“We need to move fast, the longer he has her, the more her life is at risk.” Bucky conceded, making his way over to his desk, quickly grabbing his gun. He slipped it in the waistband of his pants, he slipped off the black blazer that sat on his shoulders and rolled up the black fabric of his dress shirt.
Sam and Steve both shared a look with each other, eyes flickering back to Bucky’s disheveled form. The way he hunched over his desk, how his hands nearly trembled as he slid the magazine into place and clicked the safety on the firearm. The way his eyes seemed to darken.
“What’s the plan, Buck? You can’t exactly go to him, guns ablazing, bullets spilling. You need to be organized and articulate about this.”
Bucky scoffed. “I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get information out of him. I don’t care if I have to kill him or not.”
There was a darkness that clouded his words; he never had that mentality when he found himself in the middle of interrogations. He never aimed to kill, only to pull information out. George Barnes frowned upon the notion of killing someone unless they deserved it, not if someone was just holding information, he had the notion that there was a lesson to be learned.
“C’mon, man, you gotta be rational about this,” Sam cut in. “You need to keep your head straight-”
“My head is straight.” Bucky argued back.
“No, it’s not. Buck, you need to think about this-”
“What I need is to get Y/n back!” Bucky’s voice silenced Steve. There was a slight waver in his voice. “I need to do whatever it takes to get her back safely. I’m not taking the risk of her getting caught in the crossfire. The same thing happened to my father, I won’t allow it to happen to her.”
Bucky’s shoulders rose and fell with every harsh breath that left his mouth. He could feel his heartbeat pounding against his ribcage, he took a deep, calming breath in before muttering an apology.
“I just got her back again. After five years, I finally saw her and I can’t lose her again. I would sacrifice this entire business if it meant she was safe.”
Steve softened and made cautious steps towards his friend before he clamped a hand on his shoulder, his fingers tightly gripping his muscle. Bucky looked up at him, halting in his movements.
Deep down he knew he was being irrational about this; his body was moving faster than his mind. Annoyance settled in, not at Steve, but at himself. He was always self composed and organized, not straying off the rails and doing whatever his anger guided him to do.
But you were at the center of the fallout, somewhere scared and alone with your husband. Bucky picked up on how you spoke about him, how your voice always wavered and how your hands trembled. There was a feeling gnawing deep in his stomach that Rumlow did not treat his wife the way she was supposed to be treated.
It made Bucky see red. Aside from the fact that they were rivals, Bucky never had a single ounce of respect for Rumlow. He thought the man was deluded and unsympathetic to everyone around him. To his men, to his clients, to everyone who ever had the displeasure of meeting him.
He had treated you so poorly, every bit of confidence you had disintegrated from your husband’s harsh and cruel words. All the abuse you faced made Bucky sick to his stomach.
“We need to think rationally about this. One wrong move and it can potentially all go to shit. Y/n need you to be straight, Buck. We go see Carson and see what we can get out of him.”
Bucky nodded and took a deep breath in, exhaling sharply. His shoulders squared up as he pocketed his weapons before turning to Sam and Steve. The apprehension seemed to rush out of his body, replaced with a sense of determination.
“Okay. We see what Carson knows.”
—
A large bump in the road roused you from your forceful slumber, you felt your head loll up against the leather seats. You moved your head to the side as your eyelids drowsily fluttered, your cheek made contact with muscle mass, a cold hand reached over and held your cheek still.
“Well look who’s awake. Hope I didn’t bust your head too much, darling.”
Your eyes opened fully, and you were able to see how you were laid across the backseat, propped up against your husband’s cold side. Realization crashed down on you and fear sunk into your bones as Brock snaked an arm around your shoulders, caging you to his chest.
“Who knew my darling wife could be such a deceptive whore,” he hissed in your ear. You flinched and recoiled from him, but he held you tightly against him. “Did you fuck him while you gave out my information, huh? Is that what happened?”
You shook your head, fear bubbling up in your throat. You couldn’t speak, not without terror spiking through your very being. There was nothing to say to him, he would be angry at anything that slipped past your lips.
“I d-didn’t, I swear,” Your words were slightly slurred together, your dazed state worsened as the SUV escalated further down the bumpy road. You could feel a trickle of blood dance down the side of your face, you glanced ahead and saw the remnants of the smashed screen.
Brock scoffed and tightened his hold on you. Minutes in silence, save for the rain that fell gently against the windows, seemed to pass and you could feel the irritation radiating from his body.
“Got nothing to say, huh?”
“Nothing I say will please you,”Your voice was barely a whisper. He chuckled darkly into your ear, you squirmed but he still held you. “Where are you taking me?”
“Your father has an old abandoned factory on the outskirts of Jersey. We’re gonna sit right there until I get some form of payment from your old man, cause I know he’ll do anything to ensure your safety, huh?”
He pinched your cheek together, his tone was degrading towards you as you moved your head groggily to escape his hold, but he did not let up. You felt his hand snake from your shoulders down to your waist, his fist tightening around the thin abroc of your shirt.
You laid your head against the headrest and away from Brock as it pounded continuously, the wound on your forehead stung everytime the leather made contact with it. You closed your eyes and took several deep breaths in, trying to do everything to ground yourself.
Millions of thoughts swirled all around your head at the same time, disorienting you even more. Your mind switched from Bucky to your father, wondering if he was safe in the protection of his own home.
But Bucky.
He had to have known that something was wrong, you never sent him the text indicating that you made it safely. Bucky had to have known, there wasn’t any way he didn’t suspect something was wrong. Your safety has always been his number one priority.
“Out of all the people, you go to James Barnes, huh?”
Even when you were teenagers, he always had a sense of protectiveness over you. He made a promise to your father that he would watch and look out for you every time you went out into town.
“Does he treat you better than I do, darlin’? He fuck you better, too?”
He always walked closest to the street, always looked everywhere when he drove the two of you to school. There wasn’t a single time he didn’t walk you up to your door after a long day of hanging out. A gentle hug and kiss on your head and you would be in the safety of your home.
“I’m shocked. I’ve treated you so good, Y/n,” His hot breath trailed across the skin of your cheek. Tears pricked into your eyes. “I’ve offered you protection, I’ve bought you diamond jewelry, I even let you visit your father even when I shouldn’t have.”
A tear escaped your eye and slid down the side of your cheek. You wanted to shake your head, wanted to yell at him, to say what was really on your mind, but you bit your lip and held your comments to yourself.
If you even attempted to try and defend yourself, he wouldn’t listen to you. If anything, it would piss him off more and would have him backhanding you. Or worse, he would have one of his men go after your father.
“Y’know, I should’ve killed Stark long ago when we first got married. I could have made it seem like an accident, no one to blame for his death. He would obviously give everything to his next of kin, which is you, and I could have been so much richer,” Brock admitted. “I honestly should have. But now I’m dealing with the repercussions of your stupid little antics.”
A sob was caught in your throat and you did everything humanly possible to swallow it down before it passed through your lips. You were still dazed, unable to focus on anything but the tauntings he uttered into your ear.
“Maybe I’ll kill you instead of him. That will bring Barnes to me, cause I know just how much that man cares for you,” Brock muttered. “Killing you-”
“You would only be signing your death warrant.” Your voice wavered. But Brock merely chuckled and pressed his nose into your hair.
The car finally pulled to a stop, Rollins placing the vehicle in park before he climbed out of the driver’s seat, he stepped onto the muddy ground and opened the door from Brock’s side. A few droplets of rain landed on your forehead.
“You forget, darling. I have no care in what happens to my men. He can kill ‘em for all I care. His men are his biggest weakness, I go for the two most important things in his life and he’s just as done as I am, Y/n. I may be alost out of luck, but I swear I’ll do some fucking damage, I guarantee you.”
He roughly grabbed you by the waist and dragged you out of the car, raindrops soaking into the light sweater Bucky placed on your shoulders just hours earlier. Your legs were shaky, but Brock paid you no mind. His hold was tight on your waist as he walked you to the factory doors, having Rollins push them open before he stepped foot inside.
It was an old manufacturing factory that appeared to be run down. There were decade old machines and old metal tables and rickety wooden chairs off to the side, Brock made a beeline for them with you in his grasp. He sat you down in the wooden chair roughly, you had to grab onto the rated table to stabilize yourself.
“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl and stay nice and quiet while I figure out how to get myself out of your mess. You step out of line just once and I swear I’ll start with your father’s chauffeur. Understand?”
The pounding in your head intensified as you looked up at him. Blood had dried on the side of your face and it hurt to move your head in any way. But you nodded, opting not to say anything. Brock smiled and patted your face roughly.
“Not a peep.” He grabbed Rollins and retreated to the far end of the vacant factory, leaving you in the corner, scared and alone.
—
The sound of knuckles connecting with flesh echoed throughout the desolate building. Bucky stood over Carson, who was strapped to a chair with ropes bound around his wrists and ankles. Blood dripped from the cuts on his cheekbones, but he had still not said anything.
That infuriated Bucky more than anything.
“I just wanna know one thing, Mitchell,” Bucky said, wiping away the dribbles of blood on his split knuckles. “just one. Where is Rumlow heading?”
Bucky leaned over the battered man, hands clamping tight around Carson’s forearms. There was a calmness that settled over Bucky; he was going to get an answer regardless.
“I ain’t sayin’ shit.”
Bucky scoffed. “What allegiance do you have to Rumlow, hm?”
“He pays me more than you probably pay your men. He’s the kind of person that is admirable.”
Bucky barked out a laugh, tilting his head backwards. “Admirable, huh?”
Carson stared up at him, a frown settled over his features. He clenched his fists tightly, so that his knuckles were white. Bucky had struck a nerve, he could tell.
“You think you’re any better than him? You’re in the same business as he is, Barnes. The only difference is that Rumlow is more successful than you. I’ve read the numbers, Stark’s stupid enough to be doing business with you.”
Bucky hummed, taking a step back to admire the artwork of tattoos along his left arm, his fingers trailing over the sunflowers that were underneath his elbow. His eyes trailed from the ink to Carson, who gulped thickly as blue eyes stared into his.
“I know you’re not that fucking stupid.” Bucky hissed out. “You have a blind faith in him. His business is cracking and the empire that he built is about to collapse. He’ll kill all of you to cover up his tracks of his laundering scheme. I can promise you that man does not give a flying fuck about you.”
Anger began to bubble in Bucky’s chest, as he was steadily losing his patience. Sam and Steve stood just outside the door, readying themselves if Bucky needed their assistance. Steve had offered to take the first few hits, but Bucky insisted that he needed to do this.
“There is no sense in holding back information from me, Mitchell. Because either way, you face my wrath or Stark’s, because you’re balancing the life of his daughter in your hands. And believe me, Stark will murder you in cold blood if anything happens to his daughter.” Bucky pulled a knife from the waistband of his pants, trailing the blade along Carson’s arms.
“I’m gonna ask you one more time: where is Rumlow headed?”
Carson stared at him, eyes wide and breathing slightly labored. Seconds of silence passed while Bucky lost his patience, he dug the knife into his skin, puncturing skin as blood slipped onto his arms. The man let out a yelp, first trembling as Bucky did the same to his other arm. His yelps turned into strangled screams when Bucky went deeper.
This wasn’t a game to Bucky. Not when you were in danger.
“Okay! O-okay! I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you!” his voice cracked as he screamed.
“Where is he going?” Bucky growled. “Where is he taking Y/n Stark?”
“J-Jersey! He’s taking her to Stark’s abandoned factory on the outskirts of Jersey. He’s probably already there.”
Bucky pulled the knife out of his skin and stood up straighter, wiping the blade of the knife on Carson’s pants, a dark crimson left in its wake.
“Was that so hard?” he muttered before he punched Carson across the face once more, rendering him unconscious. Once more for good measure.
Wiping his knuckles on the dark fabric of his shirt, Bucky stormed out of the room and faced Sam and Steve. Their eyes flicked down to the blood staining his knuckles, but Bucky ignored them.
“Stark’s old factory in Jersey. He’s probably already there.” Bucky said, he ran a hand through his hair and anxiously tugged on his roots.
“What’s the plan here, Buck. How do we do this?” Steve asked, knowing that if they didn’t act fast, it would all go to shit. He watched as Bucky took a deep breath in before exhaling.
“Round up about five or so men and Nat. Rumlow’s men are scattered. He only has a few loyal ones that he’s willing to trust. They’ll meet us in Jersey and once we’re all together, we’ll come up with a plan. We have to take play by play or else Y/n is gonna get caught in the crossfire.”
His mind shifted to you, to the kiss you both shared that left you breathless. He thumbed over the sunflower tattoo, the one he got in honor of you when the both of you graduated from college. Stve caught
Steve nodded and patted his shoulder. Sam smirked, flicking the keys over to Bucky. He caught it with his palm and looked over to his two most trusted men, noticing their serious expressions.
series summary: In order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.
pairing:mob!bucky x stark!reader
word count: 5.2k
chapter warnings: sweetfluff to angst, physical assault, kidnapping?, language
The only thing that seemed to calm you down that night was the soft and soothing tone of Bucky’s voice as you called him, hiding in the locked bathroom, huddled in the farthest corner. Amongst the spilled items on the ground, you managed to grasp onto your earphone before you confined yourself to the marble floors of the bathroom.
You had cried into your knees, the only sounds heard were your broken sobs and Bucky’s soothing voice through your headphones, guiding you to take deep breaths in. He whispered praises when you were able to catch a breath, able to take in a steady stream of air. You ended up curling against the cool bathtub on the mat in front, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your shirt.
Eventually Brock had ventured back in the room the next morning while you placed the fallen items back in their respective places on your vanity. He stood behind you, watching as you silently slid the drawer back into place.
“I don’t like being rough with you, darling,” His hands inched for your shoulders and as he pressed into muscle, you tensed under his hold. Your eyes flickered to his reflection when he leaned closer to your ear. “I don’t want to have to use force with you.”
His fingers tucked a few rogue strands of hair that escaped your low ponytail, trailing his fingertips from the side of your cheek down to your jaw, tracing over the crescent-shaped indents from his vice grip the previous night.
“But I’ll tell you what, my dear,” he announced as he kneeled next to your chair. “If you are an obedient wife, you do as I say, don’t leave unless I’m with you, I’ll let you have one last dinner with your daddy for the month. Sounds like a deal?”
Nothing seemed to phase you anymore. You had been broken down into the shell of a woman you used to be; educated, confident and independent. Now, you were submissive to a man who controlled every aspect of your life.
“Yes or no.”
You swallowed thickly. “Yes.”
A malice smile spread across his face, he leaned in closer and pressed a bruising kiss to your lips, tightly grasping the sides of your face. Reluctantly, you kissed back; you could taste the unpleasant tang of whiskey on his lips, he pressed you up against the back of your chair before he let up.
His hand trailed from your jaw to the side of your face, his fingers spread across your cheek, his thumb trailed over your bottom lip. You could feel something was off; his demeanor was skittish, he was still dressed in his sleep clothes and there was a slight twitch in his thumb.
Not sleeping the previous night led to you overhearing the conversation between Rollins, Ward and your husband, their hushed tones were perfectly audible to you. Through Bucky’s hushed assurances, you took one of the earbuds out and pressed your ear up against the wall.
“If we don’t do anything, then Barnes will continue to hit every meetup until we have nothing left.”
“Well what do you suppose we do, you idiot? You want to start another fight with him? Need I remind you the last one nearly killed you!”
“If he takes out the warehouse down by the docks and the club in Queens, we are all screwed! Unless I bribe Stark by using Y/n as leverage, we may have enough money to go up north, maybe to Canada.” Even a room apart, your husband’s harsh voice pulled a flinch out of you.
“You want to take her with us?” Ward’s voice held nothing but malice.
“God no. Stark will do anything just to keep his daughter safe. If you threaten her life just enough, he’ll hand over at least a hundred million. The man’s a billionaire for christ’s sake.” Rollins added.
“Up the price and we’ll be set for the next couple decades.”
If you had been any other person, a bullet through your eyes would be your fate. But you just so happened to be the daughter of New York’s richest and most successful man. Tony Stark would have the NYPD and the FBI all over Brock Rumlow and Hydra Corporation if there was any harm to you. And that’s not including what Bucky would do.
Looking at your husband, you wondered how he was keeping his cool, how he wasn’t boiling in rage, face beat red. You had seen him angry enough times to know his body language, what the tell tale signs were when he was fuming on the inside.
“I have another meeting with a new client in Queens,” His hand slid down from your jaw to your neck, his fingers curling around the side. Your breath hitched as his palm settled against the base of your throat, his fingers held onto your neck with a firm grip. “I won’t be back until later tonight. Stay out of trouble now, darling. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to your daddy.”
Cold, clammy digits tightened around your neck for a moment as you dug your nails into the cushion. You were sure he could feel the rapid beating of your pulse.
“I won’t go anywhere.”
Brock chuckled and smirked at you. “I know you won’t, darling.”
Two pats to your cheek, your husband stood up and ventured into the closet, quickly changing into a grey dress shirt and black pants. You kept your gaze focused on your vanity, eyes boring into the painted top.
His phone began to ring, you flinched at the sudden loud noise, but you tuned him out. Your eyes glossed over with unshed tears, your gaze flickered to your reflection and for a moment, you almost didn’t recognize yourself.
Dark shadows under your eyes, swollen lips and red, puffy eyes stared back at you. Your lips were chapped, small specks of blood came out from under the skin you had anxiously gnawed at. You ran a hand through your hair, hand slightly trembling as you pulled the hair tie off your wrist and tied your hair back.
A frustrated sigh was heard, you turned your head to see him stomp angrily out, harshly grabbed his blazer, sent you a look and slammed the door roughly. You couldn’t stop the flinch that shook your body, you couldn’t fully relax until you heard the echoing of the front door slam.
The only other person that remained was Carson, who stood guard in the front. You were the only one in the entire penthouse, which brought you some form of relief.
You finished placing everything back in their respective place, hid the photos of Bucky and yourself in folders that were placed on the very bottom, placed bottles of lotion and perfume back near the vanity mirror before you stood on shaky legs. Reaching for your sweater, you wrapped it around your shoulders and grabbed your earbuds and phone and made your way down the hall.
Muddy footprints were still embedded on your plush carpet, brown stained the light blue fabric. You sighed gently and sat down on the couch, covering your legs with a blanket
Call if you just need to talk, sweet girl. I’ll always pick up the phone for you.
His voice is what you needed the most, and without thinking, you quickly dialed his number and held the phone up to your ear, anxiously biting your fingernails. It rang once before Bucky picked up.
“Y/n? Are you okay?”
You wanted to burst into tears again at the sound of his soft voice, but you sighed and leaned against the arm of the couch.
“No, not really,” you mumbled, “I just really needed to hear your voice.”
Another soft sigh escaped your lips when you stretched your legs across the couch. You positioned yourself so that you were laying across the cushions, head pressed up against the pillow that rested against the arm rest.
“I’m sorry, sweet girl. You deserve so much better,” Bucky said, you could hear the faint sounds of him shuffling paper. “When was the last time you slept?”
“The night before yesterday.”
“Why don’t you try to get some sleep, sweetheart? I know you must be exhausted,” You smiled at his attentiveness, even when he stayed on the phone all night with you.
But would you even be able to sleep? Surely with your husband out for the day along with his men, with the whole penthouse empty, you would have a sense of preservation, but the fear was still embedded in you from the night before.
Shards of glass covered the carpet, spilled items littered the floor, when you retreated into the bathroom for the night, you couldn’t even sleep with the bathroom blocked with a beauty cart and locked.
You were afraid that someone would sneak in, perhaps your husband, perhaps one of his men, would catch you on the phone with Bucky. Even with the deadbolt lock, you still didn’t feel safe enough.
“I… I can’t,” you whispered fearfully. “What if he comes back, or–or what if Carson comes up here and-”
“Y/n, you need to get at least a little bit of sleep, honey,” Bucky’s voice carried through the speaker, and you felt the familiar burn in the back of your eyes before a singular tear cascaded down your cheek. You sniffled. “I’ll stay on the phone with you, like I did last night, okay? Please, just get some rest. For me.”
You swiped the back of your hand across your cheeks, ridding the tears away. Looking around the small room, you saw the cart of paint supplies that was pushed up against the door, barricading the door to prevent anyone from getting in.
“I know you’re frightened, sweet girl, but you need to put yourself first.”
The way he spoke to you, the way his voice was soft and caring, is what you craved the most. To be loved by someone and shown kindness and love, not destestation and abhorrence. You longed to be cared for by your husband, but you knew that even if he had miraculously changed, you would never want to be loved by him.
You wanted to be loved by Bucky.
You wanted him to show you the love and affection you so desperately craved. You wanted him to kiss away all your tears, to hold you through the good and bad days. You wanted to laugh with him until your stomach burned and happy tears fell down your cheeks like waterfalls.
You wanted his kisses, his hugs, his everything. You wanted him.
Instead of Brock’s cruel words, you craved Bucky’s soft and comforting words. Instead of his malicious grip, you wanted Bucky’s delicate touch, like when he gripped your hand or placed a tender kiss on your forehead.
So, you adjusted yourself on the couch, pulled your hood over your head, aid flat on the couch with a blanket covering your body. You laid your phone faced down on your chest and threw your arms over your eyes.
“Okay.” you said, your voice above a whisper.
“Still as stubborn as ever,” Bucky chuckled, a ghost of a smile spread over your lips. “I see not a lot has changed.”
You scoffed. “I’m not stubborn.”
“Oh, really? If you’re not stubborn then why did I always have to practically force you to drink water every night in college because you would be working until you had a headache. I almost had to shove those Advil pills down your throat, Y/n/n.”
A giggle passed through your lips and you could practically hear the smile in Bucky’s laugh. You couldn’t remember the last time a genuine, light-hearted laugh passed through your lips.
“Oh and when you got really sick with the flu and you still went to school to take your exams. And it was high school, not even college. Your old man could have waived those tests anyways.”
“You know how I felt about missing school, Bucky,” you tiredly laughed. “Besides I got A’s on all my finals. So, ha.”
Bucky let out a hearty chuckle. You faintly heard the sounds of his chair squeaking and the fan in his office.
“Bucky?” You were teetering on the edge of sleep.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
You swallowed thickly, shifting slightly. “I just wanted to let you know how much I’m grateful for you. I just… I just want you to know how much you really mean to me. A-and once this is all over, then maybe– maybe after everything blows over and Brock is locked up, maybe we could–“
“Yeah, I would really like that.” His gentle voice interrupted your rambling. “Get some sleep, sweet girl.”
You hummed, sleepily muttering Talk to me about your work while I sleep, and you faintly heard his gentle voice as he rambled on about his regular customers at the bar, about Sam and Natasha and Steve.
And for the first time in years, you fell into a restful sleep.
—
“Mr. Rumlow wishes to see you in his office, Miss Stark.”
You glanced up from your book to see Rollins standing in the entryway of the sliding glass door. You hadn’t seen your husband nearly all week, not since the morning when you had spent nearly three hours on the phone with Bucky.
It was a week of him coming home in the early hours of the morning, getting two or three hours of sleep to refresh himself before he showered and dressed himself for another stress filled day. You would faintly hear him slide into bed. His hand would slightly glide over yours before sleep overtook him.
Wordlessly, you followed your husband’s top man back into the penthouse, book and cup of tea long forgotten on the balcony. As you turned the corner leading to his office, Rollins stepped aside, opened the door, and gestured for you to step in.
You took a glance inside the room and saw your husband furiously typing on his laptop, cigar hanging loose from his chapped lips. You reluctantly stepped inside and made your way over to his desk, rubbing your hands on the dark fabric of your leggings.
Brock glanced up from his laptop, his brown eyes raking over your frame as you stepped into his office. He nodded over to Rollins, who closed the door, leaving the lamps on Brock’s desk the only source of light, save for the lights from the city.
“You wanted to see me?”
Brock closed his laptop shut and gestured to the chair, in which you sat down hesitantly. He leaned back in his chair and took one last puff from his cigar before he squished the butt into the ashtray.
“How was your week, darling? Productive, I hope.” He blew out the smoke.
It had not been productive in the slightest. You woke up, locked yourself in your sanctuary and only came out when you needed water refills, had to use the restroom, or to get something to eat.
At the end of the day, when you could hardly lift your head up, you then retreated back to your room and slept on the very edge of the bed until morning, when you would follow the same daily routine. It was exhausting, but you had Bucky’s voice filtering through your earbuds to get you through the day.
“I just read some books, nothing that exciting,” you replied quietly. Brock nodded and leaned forwards, placing his elbows and forearms on his mahogany desk.
“I know I’ve been gone practically all week, and for once, you actually listened to me,” Brock taunted, and you felt yourself shrink deeper into the chair. “So here’s what’s happening. The penthouse is going to be vacant sometime next week. There’s gonna be people here, so there can’t be anyone in here. I can’t have you just running around the city, so I’m gonna hold my end of the deal.”
You nodded and allowed him to continue, keeping your thoughts to yourself for the time being.
“I have a lot of big meetings that day at the office, so I’m gonna drop you off at your dad’s place in the morning. You’ll get the day with him, then we’ll talk about how often you can visit him, okay? Does that sound fair?”
No.
“Y-yes. That’s fine.”
You knew that it would only erupt in a bigger fight if you said what you were really thinking, so you stayed quiet. To be frank, you didn’t think you had the energy for it anyways. It would only send you into a state of anxiety and panic anyways.
“I will be picking you up at eight sharp. That gives you nearly twelve hours with him. That’ll be enough, hm?”
No, it wouldn’t have. Because despite the last month, you rarely got to see your father. He was all you had growing up, beside the Barnes family. Before Bucky became your best friend, your father was your number one person.
When you were having a bad day from school, he would be there in the doorway of your room with your favorite ice cream and two spoons. Those nights, you would often be curled up on the couch that was outside with a blanket and a telescope, occasionally looking up at the stars.
The rare time when you came home crying from a bad date, he would be there with a cup of peppermint tea and a new book, rubbing his thumbs along your cheeks to get rid of your tears.
He may not have been your birth father, but that didn’t stop him from loving you any less. When you weren’t with Bucky, you were with your father. If he was busy with his work, you would sit in his office with your music connected to your earbuds and a book, patiently waiting until he was done so the two of you could have dinner.
Even twelve hours with him still couldn’t be enough. You wanted to ditch this life and just move back in with him until you could find an apartment for yourself, but in the end, you knew your father would prefer if you lived with him, where he could make sure you were safe.
“Good. I have a little bit of more work, so I’ll be in bed later on. That’s all I need from you.”
He waved you off and you stood, giving him a nod before you walked out of the office. When you made your way back to the balcony, you quickly pressed your father’s contact and pressed call and held the phone up to your ear.
“Hey, honey,” he answered with a cheeriness in his voice. “What’s goin’ on? Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I was just wondering if I could come over sometime next week for the day? Like come over early at like eight and just spend the day?” You anxiously bit your nail.
“Of course! Oh, honey, I would love that more than anything,” You smiled and sat down on the couch. “You’re always welcomed here, Y/n/n, at any hour. You know that.”
“I know, Dad, but it’s still common courtesy.”
Your father scoffed. “You’re a Stark, you come over anytime you want. I’ll have your favorite omelet waiting for you, courtesy of Vis. It’ll be fun, honey. Maybe James could come over.”
At the sound of Bucky’s name, you lit up and a small smile crossed your features.
“I would really like that, Dad.” you said, leaning against the cushions. “I’ll see you next week.”
“See you soon, honey. Sleep well.”
You hung up the phone and tossed it, taking a look at the glimmering lights the city had to offer. You hope soon enough this would be over, that you could be with a man who could show you what love is, who could treat you the way you deserved to be treated.
—
Bucky walked up the stairs of the Stark household, not even bothering to knock. He had been here countless times, he even owned a key. But the guard at the front always seemed to let him in, key or no key.
As Bucky made his way into the kitchen, he faintly heard the beautiful sounds of your laughter as it echoed through the halls. He smiled to himself, stopping in front of a small mirror to check his hair, smoothing down the rogue strand of brunette hair.
He rounded the corner and walked into the kitchen, and his smile seemed to widen once he saw you. Your hair was braided down your back, even though you were wearing a simple black sweater over your pajamas that your father had gifted you with, he still found you as beautiful as ever.
Your eyes met his and you smiled at him. Your father glanced over to him and smiled as well, beckoning him forward.
“Ah, James! Was wondering when you were gonna show,” He pulled out the chair between him and you, gesturing for Bucky to sit.
The brunette walked over and sat down, offering you a smile before giving you a small hug.
“You doing okay?” Bucky whispered in your ear. You shrugged and offered him a smile.
“A little better.”
Bucky noticed the way your shoulders tensed up, but he decided against speaking up about it. He bit his tongue and kept his words from coming out, although he kept his leg next to yours, occasionally bumping into each other. He loved hearing that little laugh, the muffled giggle you tried to hide.
He couldn’t help but gaze at you with a sense of affection every time you smiled at him or when your fingers or hands would ‘accidentally’ brush up against each other when you both reached for your drink, or for another slice of pizza.
In a daring move, you placed your head on his shoulder and hugged his bicep and held onto his muscle, pressing your face into his wrinkled dress shirt.
“Ah! Honey, did I show you what I did with the balcony? Come on, I’ll show you,” Your father stood up excidelty, glass of bourbon in hand as he walked out of the kitchen. You and Bucky smiled at each other before following your father.
Your hand snaked around Bucky’s arm as he led you to the balcony. He smiled down at you and stood closer, his hip bumping into yours.
“I added a small fireplace and got a new grill, one with burners, figured we could cook some steaks out here in the summer. Oh, and I added warmers in the couches so when you read, you can be a lot more warm. And obviously speakers.”
You took a look around, eyes softening at the new additional items on the balcony. You loved spending the nights on the balcony with your father, looking at the stars through the telescope while listening to your father’s rock and roll playlist. You pictured how you were explaining a constellation you learned about in science and an Aerosmith song would be playing.
Those were some of your favorite memories.
“I love it, Dad.” You squeezed Bucky tighter. “I think it pieces everything together.”
“Yeah, I think it’s amazing,” Bucky commented, nodding at the fireplace. “There’s nothing better than sitting near the firepit with a glass after a long day.”
Your father chuckled and nodded, taking the last sip of his drink before he turned to you. You could tell he was a little more than tispy, but it didn’t bother you in the slightest. Not in the same way when your husband was drunk. You giggled at your drunk father.
“How about another, hm?” your father perked up, but you shook your head. “I’m gonna find that nice whiskey I got from Kentucky all those years ago and see how it’s aged. James, up for a glass?”
He was already at the door.
“Maybe next time,” Bucky said. With a final drunken nodd, he went back into the house, straight to the wine cellar. Bucky snorted, shaking his head at your father.
You leaned your head against his shoulder and you felt him lean his head into yours. His hand came to rest over yours, slipping his fingers under your grasp.
“You doing okay, sweet girl?” His voice was soft like velvet. You lifted your head as he turned to you.
Shrugging, you offered him a small nod, although the smile you presented him did not reach your eyes. Bucky’s hands slid up to your face as he gently cupped your cheeks. The familiar burn of tears pricked at your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered defeatedly, tears began to brim your waterline. “I’m just so tired of being scared and on edge.”
Bucky’s thumbs caught your tears as they fell onto your cheeks, His heart broke as the shade of your eyes grew in contrast to the red and puffiness of your scleras. He leaned his forehead against yours, your hands shook as they gripped his wrists.
“God, Y/n, if I could take you away from all this I would” He closed his eyes. “I just want to show you the love you deserve.” Bucky whispered, opening his eyes to see you look up at him with wide eyes.
You sniffled and swallowed thickly. “Y-you love me?” You must have misheard him.
But the way he looked at you, like you were the most precious thing in the entire universe. The way he held you, thumbs delicately tracing under your eyes.
“I’ve loved you ever since I was fifteen, I’m pretty sure,” Bucky breathed out a chuckle. “It broke my heart when you were signed off in a marriage, and there were days I just spent alone, wondering why I didn’t propose sooner. These years without you have been the hardest.”
You gripped his wrists tightly. “I still have all the notes you wrote in my books,” you whispered back. “I have pictures of you in my phone case and in my vanity drawer. In my books. I wasn’t just losing my dad. I was losing the love of my life, too.”
Bucky’s cerulean eyes darted to yours, and as more tears cascaded down your cheeks, your smile grew.
“You are all I thought about all day, Bucky. You were always there for me on my lowest days. And even after years of not talking, you agreed to help me without any hesitation, even if I didn’t deserve it-”
“I know you were doing it for your father. You deserve everything in this world, Y/n/n. I could never be mad at you over your marriage,” He leaned down closer. “I just…” His lips were a breath apart from yours. “I love you.”
He pressed his lips to yours, you immediately gave into his touch, releasing his wrists to wrap around his neck. His hands slithered down from your face along the sides of your body until they reached your waist.
It felt like everything you had ever read. His lips were soft and he was gentle with you, with the way he held you and the way his lips molded to yours.
Butterflies erupted in your stomach and you tightened your hold on him, pulling away out of breath. You leaned your temple into his as he peppered kisses to the side of your face, kissing away the tears. He held you tightly as your phone began to buzz, indicating that your husband was five minutes away.
“I don’t want to go back with him,” you whispered fearfully, gripping onto Bucky tighter. “I want to stay with you.”
Bucky gently shushed you, hands coaxed down your spine in some efforts to comfort you. “I know, sweetness, I know. I just need you to hold on a little bit longer. Just one more week and I’ll take you far away from this, okay? Just hold on a week longer for me. Can you do that for me?”
You nodded despite the tears. He leaned down and kissed your tears away, holding you closer than before. “I’m scared, Bucky.”
“I know, baby. This is all scary for you but I promise I’m gonna protect you from him, okay. I won’t let him hurt you again.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and walked you inside. Although you held onto him as you gathered your things and made your way to the door.
Bucky leaned down and brushed his lips against yours sweetly before he pulled away, wiping away the evidence of your tears.
“Text me when you’re home safely, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow, sweet girl.” You nodded and opened the door, hiding Bucky in the shadow so your husband wouldn’t see.
But the look he gave you from his place in the black Escalade sitting across the street told you something was off. He was smiling.
You made your way across the street and opened the door of the SUV, climbing into the back seat next to your husband. Shutting the door, you gave one last glance before Rollins pulled down the street.
Something was off in the car; Rllins gripped the steering wheel tightly and Brock had been clenching and unclenching his fist.
“How was it with your dad?” Brock asked, keeping his gaze on the floor.
“It was good. I ended up falling asleep so he gave me some pajamas,” he hummed. “We mainly just watched a couple of movies and just talked.”
Brock nodded, running his fingertips along the ripped skin on his knuckles.
“You’ve been seeing James Barnes.” Brock casually said. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and your throat felt impossibly dry. No, this couldn’t be happening.
“W-what?”
“You’ve been sneaking out to see James these past couple of weeks, huh? I know you’re the one who was leaking all of my information. You forget, silly wife,” He gripped your jaw hard. “I have cameras everywhere. I don’t know what you have against me. Haven’t I offered the best protection for Stark’s daughter?”
Your hands began to tremble, eyes wide with fear as you looked at him. You could move, couldn’t speak, not without bursting into tears.
“So because of you, my empire has completely crumbled. Your little boyfriend has destroyed every single one of my products, taken every client, ambushed every meetup, so I have officially nothing! All thanks to you, my conniving little bitch of a wife.” He sneered in your ear.
“Brock-”
“So, here’s what’s gonna happen, we’re gonna go on a little road trip to Jersey until all this blows over. Once Stark gets the message that I have his daughter held up in Jersey, he’s gonna send me money to hold me over for the next ten years and we’re hauling ass out of the country, darling. Once I kill your father of course.”
You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. Brock slid you closer despite your protests, but when his hand slipped into your hair and gripped tightly, you halted.
“Maybe I’ll kill you too,” Brock whispered in your ear. Fear surged through you, and your hearing was muffled over the loud pulsing in your ears. “Or maybe you’ll come with us. Not to worry, we still have time.”
“No-”
The grip in your hair tightened as he slammed your head against the small tv screen on the headrest until a darkness took over, forcefully dragging you into the dark abyss.
