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lokiswifeduh · 6 months ago

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Don't leave me

Pairings- Mob!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary- The aftermath of the shootout was here. And Bucky has to come to terms with the results of the life he introduced you to, and what revenge he would ensue.

notes- this is a part two to Doll, please. I hope you guys enjoy the ending!! Please let me know your thoughts!! Thank you for reading loves!!

Warnings- angst, talk of guns, drugs, kidnapping, abuse, torture. major gore. sad Bucky, hurt reader, hurt/comfort, gunshot wounds, medical talk, revenge.

WC- 3k

catch up here (part one)

masterlist

"Doll, please."

I saw her look up at me with those doe eyes. Those big beautiful eyes painfully gazing into mine. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to turn her away from the bullets that were sure to fly our way, but I couldn't move my hands. In this moment I couldn't protect her.

I felt the sob rip from her throat. There were only ten seconds left.

"I vowed to stand by your side, Buck." She looked back to the ten guns pointed in mine and her direction. I could see a stray tear slip down her cheek as her hands shook, her nails digging into her palm as she tried her hardest to release my wrists from the painful wire digging into them.

Suddenly she dropped the knife, jumping into my lap. Her hands wrapped around my neck as her legs surrounded the back of the chair, encasing my upper body. "NO! Doll, please!!" I felt her hit the knife in my thigh with hers, but I ignored the pain focusing on what in the world she thought she was doing.

The men cocked their guns. But in that moment all I could think about was how to get her off of me. I needed her to run, to fight back to do something. Not to protect my body with hers. I couldn't let her.

"Doll!! Stop!! Get up!!" But my protests fell on deaf ears as she tucked my head into her chest, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck, not letting me move a muscle below her. She shook her head, my tears soaking her shirt, mixing with mine and her blood. "I won't let you die." She attempted to shout but at that moment her voice was the quietest I'd ever heard it.

I tried to whisper back when suddenly shots rang out through the warehouse. My head popped up, prepared to die with the love of my life. I wouldn't let her do it herself. I would not live without her. Not if I had a choice.

But in that split second, I realized the first bullets that went flying weren't from Rumlow's men, it was from Steve, Sam, and my men, shooting at the ones who threatened us.

"Doll, we're gonna be oka-" But my words were cut short as two bullets flew into her. She screamed. Her vocal cords grinding together in the most painful way I'd ever heard. I felt my heart rip in two as her body shook against mine, arching her back as if that would stop the pain.

But she kept her head down, arms shaking yet still holding onto me. I would have cut my hands off if I had the strength to rip through the restraints. A sob tore from my throat, "Don't do this to me."

She finally lifted her head, my beautiful wife looking at me with such care and tenderness. As if she hadn't just been shot twice, and wasn't using all of her strength to hold onto me for dear life.

A small drop of blood trickled down the side of her mouth as her teeth were painted red. "I love you, James Barnes." She cupped my face in her hands, tucking me back into her chest as her grip seemed to loosen, "Till forever and always."

The words we both said to each other on our wedding day. "Doll, please." Her hold on me finally failed as she fell, but thankfully into the arms of Steve, before her head would've slammed into the concrete.

My second in command looked at both of us. Tortured and bloody. I held in my tears as I looked at Sam, leading a pair of medics through the door.

"Rumlow will pay." The wire from my wrists was snapped in half thanks to Peter, a new, very terrified recruit. I shot down immediately onto my knees, holding her head in my hands as the paramedics loaded my wife onto the stretcher. "Don't leave me."

I made eye contact with Steve, "I will have him and that traitor's head."

_________________

You lay in the hospital bed, your whole body practically wrapped in soft white bandages.

You could feel the pressure of something on your thigh as you tried to open your eyes. It wasn't working. Why couldn't you just open them?!

Try something else, you thought.

You moved your hands, the feeling of someone else's palm in yours made your heart start to race. You could remember little parts over the last three days.

Bucky was kidnapped.

Steve was put in charge.

You were kidnapped.

Natasha was working with Rumlow.

The torture.

The pain.

Your husband's face as you used yourself as a human shield.

Being shot.

Suddenly you heard screaming and saw bright lights. A heart monitor was beeping louder and faster at each passing second.

Realizing the screaming was in fact your own, you started to breathe harder. You finally could open your eyes!

Your surroundings were blurry at first. There was a familiar figure in front of you. Sounds were muffled but began to come back into focus.

"Doll?! Sweetheart, you're okay."

You shook your head, looking around in panic before realizing you were in fact back at home, in your bed. Bucky beside you. Your husband, holding your face in his hands.

"B-Bucky?" Your voice was raspy and your throat felt like sandpaper, rubbing together from underuse.

Involuntarily you started to cough, holding a hand up to your throat which only caused more pain in your back to bloom. "Ah," You groaned, swallowing before resting your head back on the pillow.

You felt Bucky's hands leave your body, but only for a second as he held a straw to your lips. "It's just water doll. I need you to drink this for me." You nodded, feeling a pounding in your head as you sucked down the refreshing liquid. The coolness soothing your throat like rain in the desert.

"Good girl." Bucky gave you a soft smile, taking the straw away from your mouth as you finished the water.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you regained your vision, looking around.

Monitors, medical equipment, and an abundance of flowers and cards filled your and Bucky's bedroom. Light shone through the window as you squinted, shooting over to look at Bucky who just gazed down at you worryingly.

You looked him over, seeing the cuts and bruises that adorned his face. His lip was split in multiple places. His thigh was wrapped in gauze and his wrists were bandaged. Looking down, so were yours. Actually, it seemed your entire body was.

"Are yo-," You swallowed, "Are you okay?"

Bucky took a moment before letting out a laugh. "You're asking me if I'm okay, doll?" You nodded, confused.

"Sweetheart you're the one who's been unconscious for three weeks and has two bullet wounds."

You twisted your hips a little, feeling the agonizing, shooting pain of the very real bullet wounds. Groaning, you whispered, "So that definitely happened, good to know."

Bucky ran his hand down the side of your face, sitting in the chair that was placed beside your shared bed. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect you, doll." You gulped, "I- I couldn't let you die, James."

Bucky closed his eyes, laying his head down on your thigh as he gripped your hand in his. "I would've rather die than see you in this state, sweetheart."

You lifted your other hand, running it through his untamed hair. "Don't say that, Buck." But his head lifted, making you notice his bloodshot eyes and the way tears streamed down his face in harsh lines. "I won't live without you, doll." He shook his head, a tear dripping onto the hospital blanket "I would rather die a thousand times over and over in the same painful way than see you in such agony, my love."

You held back tears, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breath. "I couldn't- no. I wouldn't let you die like that, Buck." You looked at him once again, "Not at the hands of Rumlow. Not because of me." "This wasn't because of you, doll-" "But it was!" You shouted, making you cough slightly, not used to using your voice for this long yet. "Rumlow took you because he wanted to hurt us- because he wanted me." You cupped Bucky's jaw in your hand, "Because I chose you." Bucky gulped, "I've never been so scared." You softly laughed, thinking of all the shootouts, drug deals, and interrogations Bucky went through on a day-to-day basis.

But he shook his head, hearing your chuckle. "Seeing him hurt you and torture you the way he did." Bucky's eyes went dark, "I've never wanted to hurt someone so bad just to ensure you made it out of there safely." You tried to speak up but Bucky kept going. "And look at you now. You're laying here, with two gunshot wounds, fingernails ripped apart, and a busted-up face."

Tilting your head, you looked at the mirror that stood in front of your and Bucky's bed; genuinely taking in your appearance. You in fact did have a busted-in face. Your lip was split. Your eyebrow was stitched as well as your nose. You had bruises covering every inch of your skin and your hair was in the worst shape you had ever seen.

Gulping, you looked away from the mirror, making Bucky take your chin in his hands, guiding you to look him in the eyes. "But you're still the prettiest doll I've ever seen." He moved, bringing his lips to yours in a soft yet long-awaited kiss. "My best girl."

It hurt to smile but you did, bringing your hand to his face, gently rubbing over the matching bruises that mirrored yours. "I love you, James."

"I love you, doll."

________________________

The next few days were agonizing.

You could finally stand up on the third day. But not without terrible pain shooting in every nerve ending of your body.

Bucky helped you with everything. From showering to cleaning your wounds. He was quite the nurse when it came to you.

But unfortunately about a week after you woke up, the violence hadn't ended. There were still some loose ends to tie up.

Slowly walking down the stairs and into one of the main rooms, everyone's attention went to your hobbling frame. "Doll?" Bucky sped over, Steve immediately pulling up a chair so you could take a seat.

As you sat down you noticed a large bruise on Steve's jaw. You knew Bucky would eventually be mad at him for not properly making sure you stayed out of the mess and violence of it all. But you were hoping it would've been a stern lecture, not a punch.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Bucky whispered. The room stayed completely silent as Steve, Sam, and the rest of Bucky's men kept their backs turned, giving you two some privacy.

"I know you're planning to retaliate against, Rumlow."

Bucky nodded, taking your face in his hands as you fidgeted with the string of your sweatpants. Well, Bucky's sweatpants.

"I don't want you involved again, doll." He glanced back at Steve for a moment, "Not after what happened."

You shook your head, "I need him to pay for this, Buck." Your body shook with anger, "I want his fucking blood." Bucky was slightly startled, never seeing this much hatred in your eyes. You were always his sweet wife. You made the men cookies, and you organized charity events for the homeless shelter down the street.

Sure, you knew how to use a gun and fight if you had to. But seeing this much agonizing resentment on your face, scared him. But he knew you wouldn't let it go. He sure as hell wasn't.

So he let you know the plan, and what was going down.

______________

"Steve? We good?" Bucky touched the earpiece, hearing an affirmative. The mob had infiltrated Rumlow's mansion only one week later, killing every single man who stood in their way. Shoot on site. Was your husband's order as you and he waited to enter the mansion, making sure only Rumlow and Natasha were left.

Two of Bucky's men opened the doors to the mansion. The sight of the place made you cringe slightly. Soldiers were dead on the ground everywhere. Blood painted the floors and staircases like a stain.

"Top floor, back left bedroom."

You heard Steve's voice echo through the earpiece as you and Bucky made your way up.

His hand never left the small of your back, making sure you were covered at all angles with men following behind and in front of you, rifles pinned for every aspect of an attack.

"You alright, doll?" Bucky whispered, his hand on the door that would lead you to Rumlow. You nodded, ignoring the dull pain in your back. "I need this to be over with." Your husband kissed the crown of your head, nodding to his men as they busted down the door, guns held high.

But the sight in front of you made you smile.

Rumlow was beaten down, cowering in the corner of the room as Natasha stood in the corner, you could see the fear in her eyes. The same fear she caused you as she ripped your fingernails to pieces.

"Brock Rumlow," Bucky spoke in a deep voice, pulling on a pair of black gloves, before handing you a matching pair.

You slipped them on, hand placed on the knife that was strapped onto your thigh, just above the black jeans you had on.

Steve and Sam patted Bucky on the back, looking toward you with respect. "Have fun, you two." The blonde spoke, before exiting and closing the doors behind them.

"P-please, Barnes." Rumlow pleaded, "Have mercy."

Bucky was about to laugh before Natasha beat him to it. "Oh, please. You two really think he was the mastermind behind all this?" You looked over at the redhead in the corner, your former friend.

"If he's not, does that mean you are?" Your voice carried through the room, a newfound confidence making you raise your head high.

Natasha grinned, "And here I thought you never would've survived." You tilted your head, "Two bullet shots and I'm walking four weeks later." You pulled the gun from your other holster, "I can't say the same for you after this." You pointed it right at her forehead.

"Come here," Bucky moved forward, knowing you had Natasha pinned with the intent to shoot; dragging Rumlow up as two of his men held him on his knees.

"Nat, please. Do something." Rumlow begged, making you let out a laugh under your breath. "Do you think she's really in the position to?" You saw her move forward slightly, making you cock your gun, "One more step and I blow your fucking brains all over these white sheets."

Bucky grinned, loving this color on you.

"You really thought you could take my girl from me?" Your husband kneels in front of Brock, pulling out a knife from his belt. "What did you call her after breaking her nose? Oh, that's right, a 'lovely specimen."

Bucky's smirk dropped, nodding at the two men holding Brock down as they forced his mouth open. Brock shouted and yelled as Bucky gripped the end of his tongue, pulling it from his mouth and slicing it clean off from the base with his knife.

Brock wailed and cried as another soldier brought over a jar filled with a yellow liquid, opening the top so Bucky could drop the tongue in. He closed the lid, holding it up high as he watched Brock's mouth fill with blood. "What a lovely specimen."

"You two are fucking sick." Natasha, sneered, making you grip the knife from your own holster, throwing it and landing it right in her hand that was held in the air. She screamed, falling to the ground and back up until her back hit the wall.

You kneeled down, gun still pointed in her face, "Talk again and next time your tongue will join his in the jar." Your former friend gulped, nodding as you smirked.

Bucky gripped the front of Brock's shirt, making his back touch Bucky's chest as he held a knife to his throat. "Anything you wanna say before I kill you in front of your girlfriend, Rumlow?"

You laughed, slightly, making Bucky huff in humor. "Oh, that's right. You can't" He whispered the last part before slicing a clean and deep cut across his neck, blood pouring out as he collapsed to the ground, whimpering and sputtering in pain as he bled out, his eyes on you in fear as he eventually stopped moving.

Natasha looked back at you, still clutching her bleeding hand into her chest. You kneeled down, "Why, Natasha?" She shook with terror, hardly being able to force the words out. "Why did he have to pick you?!"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "What?" Natasha scoffed, looking over at your husband, then back to you.

"Before you came along I thought he could love me. But then you showed up, taking all Bucky's attention. I never stood a fucking chance." You laughed, sighing before standing and walking over to Bucky, placing a hand on the back of his head before smashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. He groaned, biting your lip and making you moan into his mouth.

You chuckled, still holding the back of his head in your hand. You lifted your arm, perfect aim.

"No, Natasha. You never stood a fucking chance." One, two, then three shots rang out through the room as you planted two bullets in Natasha's head, and one in the chest.

Dropping the gun, you saw her body slump to the ground. Dead.

Bucky turned you away from the scene, bringing your face into his hands as both of you had unshed tears in your eyes. "It's over, doll."

You nodded, holding onto his hands as they held your face. "Can we go home, Buck?" He nodded, bringing your face into his chest as he walked you back through the house and into the car. "We're going home, doll. I'm never leaving you."

End

__________________

part one (read first)

masterlist

Taglist:

@yeahyeahyeah23-blog @rinniereads123 @shortnloud @julvrs @unaxv @sapphirebarnes

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deliciousangelfestival · 8 months ago

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Guilt

Character: Mob!Bucky x Police!Female Reader

Summary: "Of all the women in the world, does she have to be a cop?" Bucky, a gangster, fell in love at first sight with a policewoman.

At the golf course, two outstanding men in the mob world are playing golf together to have a quiet time, to forget the worst day at the club they owned.

Steve, the second person in charge, still feels frustrated, while Bucky, the leader, is the only one enjoying the game.

"Of all the women in the world, does she have to be a cop?" Steve, his childhood friend, asked as he watched Bucky hit the golf ball.

Bucky clenched his fist in frustration as he made the shot. Turning to Steve, he replied, "I can't help it. She just took my breath away the first time I saw her."

Steve sighed, recalling the first encounter between Bucky and the policewoman when their club was unexpectedly visited by the narcotics police force.

Steve sighed, "She's known as a scary person, even among her colleagues," he said, relaying what he had learned from his connections.

"And from what happened last night, I feel like she holds a big grudge against people like us," Steve continued, reflecting on the recent events. Most of the cops he knew turned a blind eye to their business dealings, never getting involved with drugs.

Bucky remembered how composed you had been last night, effortlessly throwing punches and giving orders to make arrests. He even recalled the moment you pushed him to the ground and handcuffed him.

At that instant, he knew you were different from other women.

Bucky took another swing at the golf ball, causing it to fly too far. With a smile, he declared, "I will make her mine."

Steve sighed deeply, realizing that once Bucky had made up his mind, no one could stop him.

As Bucky began his courtship, he tried various approaches to get closer to you:

1. He sent you flowers with cryptic notes, hinting at his admiration and interest.

2. Bucky strategically positioned himself at events where you were present, making sure to catch your eye without being too obvious.

3. He orchestrated chance encounters, bumping into you at coffee shops or restaurants, always ready with a charming smile and a casual conversation starter.

4. He even went as far as anonymously sending you a gifts or helpful tips related to your work, trying to show his support and understanding of your profession.

But you didn't give any reaction; you consistently ignored him.

Bucky didn't mind your game of "playing hard to get." He was confident that in the end, you couldn't resist him.

However, his confidence wavered when you finally spoke to him, your words cutting through the air like icy daggers. "In 2022, Bobby Smith died because of a gunshot. He was my fiancé."

Bucky's face drained of color, his body going rigid with shock. The revelation hit him like a sledgehammer, the weight of guilt crashing down upon him. His mind raced as he realized the implication: Bobby Smith's death was because of him.

After the revelation, would Bucky give up his pursuit, or would he persist despite the overwhelming guilt?

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sjsmith56 · 2 months ago

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A Better Man - Complete

Summary: Bucky Barnes, a shy general contractor who also provides services for criminals, falls in love with the single mother of a baby girl. The father works for one of his rivals, and wants nothing to do with the woman or the baby. Can he be the better man for her?

Length: 10 parts

Characters: Bucky Barnes, named OFC, named OCC, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Winnifred Barnes, May Parker, Natasha Romanoff, Brock Rumlow, various Avengers in minor roles.

Warnings: Childhood trauma, angst, cursing, conflicting emotions, criminal behaviour, violence, no smut.

Author notes: This AU started out as a one shot but I got carried away and it just grew. A bit of a slow burn between Bucky (who is a softie) and OFC. There is some humour in this, as the guys of Barnes Contracting are sometimes dumbasses, but with hearts of gold.

All MCU character names are the property of Marvel / Disney. Original characters and the plot are the property of the author and all rights to those aspects are claimed by her. I DO NOT give permission to copying and pasting of any portion of this story into any other app or platform.

Listing of parts titles after the break. 🛠️ 👷‍♂️ 👩‍🍼

Part 1. Preparation

Part 2. Foundation

Part 3. Structure

Part 4. Connections

Part 5. Warmth

Part 6. Transformation

Part 7. Appearances

Part 8. Attachments

Part 9. Clean Up

Part 10. Walkthrough

Short Fiction Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #bucky barnes au #james buchanan barnes au #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky au #buckybarnes slow burn #steve and natasha #idiots in love #angst #dumbasses #bucky barnes fluff #no smut

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mymoonagedaydream · 1 year ago

Text

Part 1

Summary: Maybe the relationships worth fighting for were the ones in which you had to fight the hardest.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Language, vague references to violence, light public wankery

Author’s Note: This one has been sitting in my inbox for literal years so I hope you’re still in an angsty mood after all this time. Was meant to be a oneshot but hey I got carried away what can I say.

---

Three loud knocks hammered against your door. It made you jump every time he did that, you were used to your guests ringing the buzzer.

You checked the time as you hurried across the length of your cramped apartment, cursing under your breath when you saw that it was almost nine. Him finishing work this late was never good news. Whatever had happened, whether it be another drawn out meeting or an unplanned, after-hours assignment, it would almost definitely have left him in a shitty mood.

You sighed. It used to be that bad days for him were few and far between, now they seemed to outnumber the good ones.

Sliding the chain off and turning the lock, your heart sank when you pulled the door backwards and caught sight of his miserable expression. You wished so much that there was more you could do to uplift him when he felt like this but, short of marching into his office and scolding his colleagues as if they were suave-suited school children, you were helpless. All you could do was try to help him take his mind off things.

“Hey, Hot Shot.”

He managed to summon a weak but warm smile, planting a kiss on your temple as he shuffled past. “Hey. The crazy newspaper lady let me in again.”

“I figured,” you pushed the door shut and followed him inside, “did she give you another fistful of clippings?”

“Whatta you think?”

He stuffed a hand into his pocket and set down a few scrunched up papers on the coffee table before dropping onto the couch. With a smirk, you picked them up and smoothed them out, scanning your eyes over the headlines.

“Bless her, she always saves the business stories for you.”

“Yeah, why is that?”

“Probably ‘cause you’re always in a suit and I’m always referring to you as Hot Shot.”

“You talk to her?”

Realising your mistake, you stopped absentmindedly thumbing through the clippings, lifted your gaze to his and shrugged. “Occasionally.”

He narrowed his eyes. You knew exactly what he was thinking. He didn't like the idea of you going near her, he thought it wasn’t safe, probably thought you’d end up locked in her apartment and chopped into tiny pieces that she’d save and use as bullion cubes.

So now probably wasn’t the best time to bring up your weekly visits to her apartment for coffee and cake.

Sure, she was a little intimidating to look at, with her wild eyes and deep, sunken cheeks, but she was a sweetheart really. She’d started tearing up newspapers in the downstairs lobby after her husband died a few years ago. He loved his morning reading and she loved clipping out his favourite stories and saving them for him, apparently doing it for other people was the only thing keeping her going now she was alone. You just wished you could think of a way to explain all that to Bucky without incurring his paranoia.

His glare wasn’t letting up. You knew if you didn’t swiftly change the subject there was a danger he might start trying to convince you to move into his much nicer, much bigger and much safer apartment again. As much as you appreciated the offer, it had taken so much for you to move to the city on your own, and you weren’t ready to give up your independence just yet. You were happy the way things were.

You cut in as soon as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Rough day?”

His head collapsed backwards. “Mhmm.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Nah, s’alright, just seemed like everyone was out to piss me off.”

“Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

He chuckled gruffly as you flopped down beside him, his arm moving to cradle your shoulders and hug you tight to his side. “Have you eaten?”

“I was waiting for you.”

“You wanna order pizza?”

“Definitely.”

You leaned forward and rustled around for the takeout menu in your coffee table junk drawer. Bucky shifted slightly, out the corner of your eye you could see him starting to dig the fingers on his free hand into his knee. He cleared his throat nervously before speaking again.

“Can I pay this time?”

“We’ll split it.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind-”

“Buck.” You gave him a look as you dropped the menu in his lap. “We’ll split it.”

He didn’t push back. You’d gotten pretty good at standing your ground out of necessity because, if Bucky got his way, you’d never be allowed to spend a single dollar. He earned a lot more than you, a helluva lot more, but you still preferred to keep things equal. You got by just fine.

The two of you settled in on the couch together. He hustled downstairs when the buzzer sounded and you demolished the pizza in front of the TV, enjoying the peace of each other's company, chuckling at whatever shitty reality show was on at 9pm on a weeknight.

Despite his best efforts, though, it was obvious that something still wasn’t quite right with him. He needed some help unwinding.

“Hey, you wanna hear something funny? It might cheer you up.”

His head lolled towards you, a wide smile creeping over his lips. “Go on.”

“So, at work this afternoon, Judy was doing her rounds upstairs when she noticed a guy tucked in the corner by adult fiction. It’s pretty routine to get the odd embarrassed reader trying to hide away up there but apparently he was grunting like a professional tennis player , her words.”

“Jesus.”

“Mhmm. So she called the cops and they hustled up there, apparently he’d been jerking off in the aisle to a fucking Mills & Boon novel called The Dark Duke . We had to get the janitor to get rid of it in a biohazard bag, poor guy. He’ll probably call in sick tomorrow from the trauma.” You were laughing through your words but, when you looked over at Bucky, an incredibly stern face was looking back. “C’mon, you gotta admit that’s funny.”

“It’s not funny that you’re around creeps like that every day.”

“This city is full of creeps, just so happens that a few of them have library cards.” You flashed your eyebrows at him, he didn’t even crack a smile. “Jesus, Buck, you don’t think you’re taking this a little too seriously?”

“No, I don’t.”

The two of you fell into silence. His eyes flicked away from you for a second, his expression suddenly becoming resolute. You could see the words forming in his throat. You knew exactly what was coming.

“You really need to think about coming to work at my place.”

You jumped up from the couch. “I can’t have this conversation again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re already in a shitty mood and me making the same argument I’ve made a thousand times before isn’t gonna help.”

You picked up the empty pizza box and trudged through to the kitchen, hoping that would be the end of it.

It wasn’t, unfortunately, because he decided it was smart to jump up and follow you like an irritating child.

“I just don’t get why you won’t take it. It’s better money, better hours and we’ll practically be-”

“Practically be working together yeah, I know, I’ve heard this speech before and the answer is the same. Thank you, but I’m happy where I am.”

“You wanna work in a fuckin’ library forever?”

You threw the box down on the counter and swivelled round to face him. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Talk about my choices like that, like you know better.”

“Jesus, I’m just tryna’ look out for you.”

You shook your head, in disbelief that you’d been dragged into this argument once again. “Whatever.”

“Is that it?”

“I honestly don’t know what you want from me, Buck.”

“I want to know why you’d rather stay in a shitty job and a shitty apartment than have something better.”

“Because I don’t want to work for your fucking father, alright?”

His face dropped. You realised that your words had come out with much more venom than intended but, in all fairness, this had been building up for a while. You’d been with Bucky long enough to know what kind of business his family was in and you wanted no part of it. Your love for him had helped you move past your unease about what he did for a living, because you knew with utmost certainty that he was a good man at heart, but you couldn’t say the same for the rest of them. You wouldn’t allow yourself to get dragged in too.

He clenched his jaw for a second before biting his cheeks, his head slowly beginning to nod, anger rising in his face. You just waited. Anyone else might have been scared of him in this moment, of how he seemed to be coiling up like a threatened snake ready to strike, but you weren’t. He’d never given you any reason to be.

His mouth fell open but quickly snapped closed before any distinguishable words could escape. With a loud huff, he stormed away, yanking his jacket from the couch as he passed and tearing your front door open.

You saw him hesitate in the corridor for a second. He brushed his hand over his hair before suddenly lashing out, striking the side of his fist against the doorframe. The whole wall shuddered.

“Whoa, hey.” You hurried over and reached for his shoulder. “That looked like it hurt, are you-”

He grabbed you.

Your eyes locked with his, you’d never seen him this angry before. In fact, you were so caught up in his warped expression that it actually took you a few seconds to feel his grip, to feel how tightly he was squeezing and how his fingertips dug into the space between the veins and tendons in your wrist. You frantically looked down at his white-knuckled hand and tried to yank yourself free, hoping that any amount of resistance would encourage him to release. He didn’t let go. You looked back up at him.

No words were exchanged, but you saw in his face the moment he realised he was hurting you. The redness in his cheeks seemed to drain away in an instant, leaving behind a deathly paleness that highlighted how quickly the tension dissolved from the muscles in his jaw and forehead.

He let go.

With panic thumping in your chest, you quickly stepped backwards and slammed the door. You sheltered behind it, frozen, as he softly knocked against the wood and apologised over and over again.

You stayed there until you heard him walk away.

---

Part 2

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thischubbydumpling · 2 years ago

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#sebastian stan #sharper #chubby dumpling #mob!bucky #buckybarnes #mafia!bucky #ceo!bucky #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x female reader #sebastian stan smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan imagine

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ramp-it-up · 11 months ago

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@sonia_barbie_tucker Happy Saturday 🤍

#mannnnnn #ttoo inspo #she cold #fic inspo #Inanna #Inanna x Bucky #mob boss! Bucky x Inanna #ttoo au #this thing of ours au #mob boss!bucky #mob boss!BuckyBarnes

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buckyalpine · 2 years ago

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You had one job

18+

Bodyguard!Bucky x reader

Everyone who asked for this raise your hand. As expected, everyone’s hands are down. I’m sorry.

A lil angst, horny protective Bucky, smutty smuuttt, fluff, all that. Daddy kink, pregnancy

“Not interested” Bucky glared at Steve, shoving the file back across the table, shaking his head while the blonde smirked, skimming through the papers.

“Well you don’t have much of a choice; they requested you, not Mr. Stars and Stripes over here”

Of all jobs, the last thing Bucky wanted was to play babysitter for the spoilt daughter of Tony Stark, the face of Stark Enterprises though that was clearly just a cover for the underground dealings he had control over.

“I’m not taking a babysitting job”

“You’re not a babysitter for fucks sake, you’re her bodyguard and head of security for the family. You have military experience, they only want the best” Bucky’s boss walked out of the room without looking back, not giving the brunet a chance to argue back.

“You start next week”

*****

Don’t let her out of your sight

Don’t touch her

Don’t stare at her

Don’t touch her

Keep her safe

Don’t touch her

Those were the rules he was given as he walked out of Starks office, his jaw clenched as he made his was to the foyer of the mansion. Works of art decorated the walls, each piece different from the other, different from pieces he had seen in other homes-

The sound of heels clicking down the stairs broke him from his train of thought, his eyes flicking up to the latest job he was forced to take on. You wore a skirt and blouse, make up perfectly done, not a hair out of place, nails manicured, unnecessarily pretty.

You’d already gone though countless bodygaurds before, none meeting your standards, each getting fired for one reason or another. Unlike the others, Bucky only had so much patience.

“Miss Stark” Bucky hardly looked at you, staring past you instead while you walked by him, grabbing your bag and calling for your driver.

“Mr. Barnes” You nodded, making your way out to the car as he followed behind you, sliding into the car and keeping his distance. You didn’t speak to him the whole car ride, going about your shopping trip as if he didn’t exist. When you weren’t pretending he didn’t exist, you’d talk his ear off, your sassy banter seeing how far you could push him till you at least got a growl out of him.

He had to give you some credit. While he usually ignored you most of the time, you were intelligent like your father and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit intrigued by you.

Each day was the same. He’d accompany to wherever you demanded; shopping, brunch with your friends, dinners, oddly occasionally a few bookstores where you’d spend the whole day tucked away in a corner reading. The worst was when you wanted to go clubbing, your handsy friends ogling and eye fucking him the entire time while you continued to pretend he didn’t exit.

Again, he had to give you some credit; not once did he ever had to drag you out of the club, drunk and sloppy. Regardless of how much you drank, you always appeared stone cold sober.

Not once had anything happened for his presence to be needed. The most he had done in the past month he spent with you was carry your shopping bags and hold the door open. Aside from his name, he wasn’t sure you knew anything about him. What he didn’t know was while you didn’t look at him, you’d carefully studied him whenever he looked away from you.

You noted the way his blue eyes would always scan the room before you entered a building, marking all the exists. His hands would constantly twitch whenever someone got too close, his metal arm always tucked near the gun in his holster. His lack of patience amused you; always smirking to yourself at the way his jaw ticked when your friends got too close to him.

In all fairness, he was handsome.

As hell.

Between his short dark locks, scruffy cheeks and pink lips, you’d have to be blind not to see how gorgeous he was. Unlike your previous bodyguards, you were most intrigued by him, the only one who hadn’t spared you a second look, always keeping his eyes and hands to himself. He was also the only one you wanted to ride until the sun came up-

“You don’t speak much” You mused, looking up at him from your sunglasses while he sat across from you, scrolling on his phone. You both sat in the car on your way to a charity event you had to attend, representing your father.

“I was hired to protect you” Bucky shrugged, while you cocked your head wanting to prod at him more. “That doesn’t involve much talking”

“Shouldn’t you know more about the person you were hired to protect” You earning a grunt in response. “Might be difficult if you hardly look at me”

“I don’t believe speaking or looking at you are part of my instructions Miss. Stark” Bucky challenged while you smirked, his blue eyes locking with yours. There was something about you that made him want to take you over his knee, curious about how demanding you’d be if you were stuffed with his cock instead-

He broke his stare away feeling his phone buzz, opening the car door for you and letting you step out, trailing behind you. He spoke lowly as he answered the call though he was already dreading what it would be about, seeing Fury’s caller ID.

“You’re scheduled to travel with her next month”

“This is a waste of everyone's time” Bucky groaned, wishing he at least had Steve by his side to keep him entertained. “For fucks sake, all I do is follow her on shopping trips, this is what they hired me for?”

“Suck it up Barnes, Stark is sending you both over to some event he can’t attend, everything’s already been arranged” Bucky growled, cursing under his breath when he hard the call end.

A month later

“I’m sorry sir, there must have been a mix up in the bookings” The front receptionist gave Bucky an apologetic look while he shook his head, taking single the keycard to the hotel suite while you continued to scroll through your phone. You both made your way up to the room, your bags in his hand while you took the card from his hand to swipe the lock.

“What are you doing-” You shot Bucky as look as he followed in behind you, crashing onto the couch after setting your bag aside.

“They only booked once room and there's no others available, so here we are” He was in no mood to argue with you, already irritated over the fact that he’d have to spend the night surrounded by stuck up shady business men all night while running on 0 sleep. You stayed silent for a moment; it wasn’t like you had time to waste finding different sleeping arrangements, your fathers business always came first.

“You can sleep on the couch” You shrugged, grabbing your garment bag and locking the door of the master bedroom of your suite, deciding you’d deal with the hotel room mix up later.

Bucky splashed some water onto his face, thankful there was a second bathroom in your room as he showered and threw his suit on. He sat at the couch, reloading his gun, looking up when he heard the click of your heels on the tiles, approaching him.

For the first time since he’d started his job, Bucky struggled to take his eyes off you. You were in a long satin gown, the soft burgundy material wrapping around your body beautifully. The dainty straps of your heels hugged your ankles, his mind going rogue, thinking about how they’d look on his shoulders-

“Lets go” You gave yourself a once over in the floor length mirror while Bucky nodded, leading you to the elevators and down to the hall of the event. The sweet scent of your perfume evaded his senses as you stayed close to him, hoping he wouldn’t realize your stomach had burst into butterflies over the way he looked in his suit.

You made small talk with a number of people throughout the night but something was off. Bucky watched you carefully, noting the way you downed your third glass of champagne in the past few minutes, anxiety clouding your usual confident demeanor.

“What is it” Bucky whispered, while your eyes flicked to a few unfamiliar guests, which was unusual for such meetings.

“This is a private event” You murmured, nervously linking your arm with his, “But I don’t know some of these people, my father would have mentioned new guests”

Bucky silently nodded, slipping his hand around your waist, making his way towards the exit before the room went dark, a number of lights suddenly switched off. You gasped as a masked mad approached you, panic ensuing at the sound of bullets ringing through the large ballroom. Your eyes grew wide, recognizing the voice as the man tore the mask off, his burnt face a mess after he had already tried to touch you once before.

“Fancy seeing you here” Rumlow grinned, his cold knuckled fingers gipping onto his knife as he stalked over to you, determination written all over his face. “Almost had you once. Shame your father will only have you back in pieces-

Before you could do anything, Bucky pulled you out of the way, shielding you, the knife slashing across his shoulder instead. He hissed in pain, pushing you away just enough so he could push Rumlow down, cuffing him while a few of your families allies dragged him away.

You hardly had time look back while Bucky let out a pained groan teeth digging into his bottom lip, pain radiating through his shoulder as he grabbed you and pulled you close to his side, making sure the area was clear before taking you to the safety of your room. He ignored the shooting pain that pulsed through his body, slumping on the couch while you berated him about needing to go to a hospital.

“M’fine” He gritted out, while you shook your head, unwilling to take his brooding stubbornness if it meant he was going to bleed out in the hotel room.

“For fucks sake, will you stop being so stubborn for once and let me take care of you” You dragged him into the bathroom, shrugging his blazer off and unbuttoning his shirt, throwing the blood soaked material into a hamper that sat in the corner.

Usually Bucky would have protested, easily cleaning his own cuts and sewing himself up like he had done countless times before.

Except he was exhausted.

Before he could get another word in, you tugged his hand, leading him to sit on closed toilet seat, grabbing the first aid supplies he had in his bag. You threw your dress and heels off, quickly throwing on the first thing you could find in one of the bags, (his henley and his brief's) before rushing back to him and tending to his injury.

He was able to feel every cut and sting as you dabbed the alcohol soaked cotton on his gash, unable to ignore the way the pain radiated on his skin. He hissed, his body moving on its own, his hand slipping up your shirt, grasping onto your waist, gritting his teeth, squeezing your soft flesh, groaning. You felt your heart jump, ignoring the way it fluttered. Your eyes grew wide when he sucked in a breath, letting your shirt ride up and he rested his head against your stomach.

You continued to dab the bloody away, the sting only getting worse. He bit down onto your soft flesh, no longer in control of what he was doing, the pain felt white hot and the only thing that kept him tethered to reality was the softness of your skin.

His grip on your waist loosened as he let out a shuddered breath feeling you blow on his skin to soothe the sting before placing gauze on top to stop the bleeding.

“All done” Bucky pulled away, his eyes now locked on the indents on your skin of where he bit down onto you, a part of his mind wandering to how pretty you’d look if he marked you other places. He felt his face heat up, thanking you before getting up and leaving, the blood in his body now pumping other places.

The softness of your hands.

The sweetness of your voice.

A stubborn little princess, wearing his clothes, taking care of him.

“I’m going to shower” You interrupted his train of thought, leaving his bathroom to use the larger one in the room, your own body feeling like it was lit on fire. You loved the way his calloused hands felt on your body, gripping onto you, each of his pained groans made your heart hurt yet needy. Imagine how beautiful he’d sound if you were bouncing on his co-

You blinked, your fingers tracing over the indents he left on your skin as you stripped his henley off, cursing when you realized you’d taken his clothes instead of yours. While you hoped he wouldn’t have noticed in his state of pain, you knew he saw every detail.

Perhaps a cold shower would clear your head.

Bucky nearly growled as you emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a pathetic excuse for a towel while he stood half naked, grabbing his sweats to throw on before you came in to grab your own clothes.

“Forget your clothes again” Bucky smirked, letting his eyes rake up and down your body, unable to hold back much longer. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Or the scent of your body wash. The little resolve he had was crumbling into a fine power when you stepped towards him.

You could feel your pussy already dripping, eye fucking him right back, curious to see how far you could push him. He always managed to ignore your teasing though today his eyes had lingered on you for a tad too long.

“Daddy said you couldn’t lay a finger on me” You cocked an eyebrow, dropping your towel to the floor, shamelessly letting him stare at your bare form, his cock leaking against his boxers.

“Not a problem princess” He smirked, tugging his boxers down, stroking himself in front of you. “He didn’t say anything about admiring his pretty baby, huh”

You whimpered while he continued to lazily stroke himself watching you, taking a few steps towards you while you backed yourself against the wall. Your eyes grew wide when he caged you against the wall, his hot breath fanning on your face.

“Daddy said-

“I’m your daddy now baby” He growled in your ear, throwing you over his shoulder, and tossing you onto the bed. Something else surged inside him. He hadn’t realized how much he actually cared for you until today. He despised the feeling he felt when he knew you were in danger, no one, absolutely no one had the right to hurt you.

Bucky didn’t hold back, fucking you with abandon, making sure you’d feel him for the rest of the week, pounding you into the mattress. He loved your desperate cries and whimpers, begging him for more, taking every inch of him.

“Daddy, harder”

“Greedy little princess aren’t we”

“Need it daddy”

“Daddy’s got you baby, just be a good girl and take it”

You loved the way he tossed you around, marking your body, your skin littered in bruises, his possessive words making you feral.

“You like when daddy bites you sweets? You like daddy losing control for the princess he has to protect?”

“Please Bucky, mark me up daddy!”

“M’the only man who gets to hear you scream like this baby, the only man who gets to mark you. I’ll fuckin’ ruin anyone else that tries to put their hands on you, you’re mine to protect, all mine”

He had you cumming all over his cock all night, his mouth filthier each time he had you creaming on his length.

“C’mon babygirl, one more, it’ll make daddy all better”

“C-can’t daddy!”

“Just one more to help me feel all better baby, please? Daddy’s cock hurts when his princess doesn’t cum”

The night ended with you cuddled up in his arms, the both of you insisting it wouldn’t happen when the next day. You tried to ignore the way you felt giddy around him while Bucky tried to keep his cheeks from going red whenever you were near him.

Although.

That night started it.

While neither of you spoke about any feelings that seemed to be brewing between you both, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

Bucky had a lot of self restraint for many things but you were a weakness. He fucked you in everyway imaginable; the back seat of the car, the changerooms, by the poolside, your bedroom, the kitchen, even once in the club bathroom.

What started off as a few hook ups turned into something more intimate. He snuck into your room more often, taking his time to feel your body under his, staying with you until the sun came up. He hadn’t been one to enjoy soft slow sex before but with you he found himself craving it.

“Missed you babygirl”

“Needed this”

“Fuck you feel so good baby, s’perfect my pretty girl, so good for me”

“Never wanna leave princess, wanna be like this forever”

Regardless of what he was saying in those moments, you both agreed there was nothing more. Its not like anything more could happen anyway, he was still your bodygaurd and its not like you could be together.

A few weeks later

He had been patient for long enough. This was the fourth time he heard you empty your insides, walking out of the bathroom as if nothing had happened. You ignored his stare, making your way to your bed instead, your stomach churning again.

“There’s something you’re not telling me” Bucky’s voice was low, watching you nervously fidget with your fingers, bringing your knees up to your chest, nearly curling into a ball. “I don’t know what you’re-

“Its nothing Bucky” You shot back, your frustration clouding overthrowing your patience. You fought back tears while Bucky sat by your side, clenching his jaw when you turned away from him.

“Don’t lie to me, you’re never like this”

You had avoided him for over a week, hardly leaving your room, leaving all his calls unanswered. You had refused to see him, deciding to stay holed up in your house so he wouldn't have to watch over you. You knew Bucky suspected something but how could you tell him this.

“You’ve been sick, you’re tired all the time, you refuse to let me take you to the doctors, you don’t even let me near you anymore, baby just-

“I’m pregnant” You sat up, bursting into tears, shuffling away from him, guilt and fear consuming you, “I’m pregnant and I don’t know what to do, we didn’t plan this, I-I know you don’t want this, you were hired just to protect me, not have a baby, especially not with me-

“Hey, hey, baby what makes you think I don’t want this” Bucky quickly grabbed you, pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and holding you to his chest. You trembled in his arms, shaking while he rubbed your back, tilting your chin to look at him.

“Bucky-

“Princess, listen to me, I want this with you baby” You looked away again, figuring he was saying that for your sake, “Sweetheart, look at me baby, please?”

He huffed at your stubbornness, moving you so you were pinned under him while he held off some of his body weight to keep from pressing too hard against your tummy. He rested his forehead onto yours, his eyes sincere. “I mean it. I want our baby. I’m more than happy sweetheart, there's no one else I’d want to have a baby with”

You whimpered under him, draping your hands over his shoulders while he rolled you over again, letting you lay on top of him. He stroked your hair, kissing you while rubbing your tummy, giddy excitement making him smile till his cheeks hurt.

“Y/n, sweetheart” Bucky pulled you closer to him, his hand firmly splayed across your tummy, nose bumping against yours, “I love you baby”

“You promise you want this James?”

“I want it all with you babydoll”

****

“Can-I have to tell you something” You stepped into your father office room while Bucky continued to remain a respectful meter away from you as always.

“That you’re in love with the man I hired to protect you” Your father cocked an eyebrow, his face unreadable while he stared at you both, your eyes growing wide, while his face remained unchanged. You silently nodded while Bucky took a step closer to be right by your side, relaxing a little when Tony didn’t put a bullet between his eyes.

“Do you love her?”

“Yes sir”

“You’ll take proper care of her?”

“Yes sir”

“You understand I’ll kill you right now you ever make her cry”

“Yes sir”

“Suppose it could be worse” Tony shrugged, shaking his head at the way Bucky looked like a lovesick puppy, his hands clearly itching to hold yours, his pinky discreetly linking with yours for the time being.

“Well-um-that’s not all?” You nervously fidgeted while Bucky bit back a smirk, though your father didn’t look surprised, shaking his head instead.

“For fucks sake, you had one job” Tony rubbed his temples, itching to throw a paperweight at Bucky’s head while he sheepishly smiled, moving his arm to wrap around your tummy. “I thought I told you not to touch her” Tony deadpanned while Bucky bit his lip, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Sorry sir”

Just imagine utter ridiculousness that ensues after. Tony is more than happy that your happy but he can’t help but grill Bucky every time he sees him doting on you, reminding him of how this absolute punk touched his princess.

“He had one job, just one job” He mumbles while watching Bucky feed you, the both of you cuddled on the couch together.

“C’mon, they’re cute” Nat snorts while Tony shoots her a glare, continuing to sip his whiskey.

“One job Romanoff, one job”

After your little one is born, Bucky is even more protective over you than before and Tony couldn’t be more proud over the person he hired to watch over you.

That doesn’t mean he’ll let Bucky live it down.

“One job Barnes”

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urdepressedslut · 1 year ago

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You’re Mine, Sunshine

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?

♡ Warnings: mentions of amputation, light angst, hints to violence, mentions of death, bucky being a grumpy man

Part 2

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!AU Bodyguard!AU

“Mr. Barnes, your résumé so far is quite impressive.” Pierce acknowledged with a slow nod.

Bucky of course had a trained eye, but the glares that were not so subtly sent his way by the big boss— were intimidating. He wasn’t scared, no. He simply respected this man’s power. Bucky knew better than to get on the bad side of someone like Pierce.

“Says here you’re an amputee?” Pierce asked so bluntly, and he noticed Bucky’s eyes squint slightly. “Sorry, if I’m overstepping but nothing will be overlooked.”

“It’s not a problem, sir.” Bucky assured him. “Yes, I lost my left arm during a mission way back.”

Pierce furrowed his brows.

“Mission? I take it you used to be an agent of some sort.” He assumed.

Bucky nodded.

“Hm, very good. Continue.” He waved him on.

“I had some surgical procedures— and now I have a prosthetic.”

Bucky lifted his left arm, rolling his sleeve slightly up to expose the metal to the boss. Pierce hummed impressively, taking in the intricate designs on the metal.

“I can assure you that me having a prosthetic will not be an issue— my arm is made out of only the strongest metal. Bullet proof, in fact.” He added, hoping it would further impress the boss, proving just how perfect for the job he was.

It wasn’t his dream to be a bodyguard, actually it was quite a low in his career— if you asked him. He had fallen out of his previous steady job, due to some complications. He had the experience of being a bodyguard— just not for only one person. It would be a weird change for him, but he was willing to take on the challenge. Also, the pay was nice.

Pierce hummed again, the information that his prosthetic arm was bullet proof— only satisfying him more.

“Like I said, impressive Mr. Barnes. But this is an extremely important task. My only daughter, who must be protected at all costs.” Pierce trailed off, expression growing serious. “It’s been a hard adjustment since the passing of my wife, my daughter is all I have left.”

Bucky nodded in understanding, knowing what it was like to lose loved ones. In fact, that wound was still fresh on him.

“If I allow you to take on this role, you are to swear to yourself that you will do whatever it takes to keep her alive— no matter what.” Pierce spoke loudly, his voice orotund.

Bucky in the back of his mind thought about his choice of words. ‘If I allow you.’ Bucky respected this man, but he had to hold back the scoff that threatened to escape his lips at his statement.

“Do you think you’re ready for that?” Pierce challenged, and suddenly it wasn’t about his daughter at all. It was a man challenging another man, a task that he deemed impossible.

His metal hand behind his back whirred in annoyance. After all that fluffing his head up, complimenting his training. It was clear Pierce thought so little of him, and at that— it made Bucky wanna take the job even more. Just to prove him wrong.

“Yes sir.” Bucky promised, shaking Pierces hand in a firm— slightly aggressive shake.

Pierce smiled, dropping Bucky’s résumé on his desk. Getting himself comfortable, he sat on the edge of the front of the desk, crossing his arms.

“Now, let’s go through what is to be expected.” He started, Bucky nodded for him to continue. “You are to be with her at all times, except for when you sleep. You do sleep right?”

Bucky let the scoff escape this time, but it wasn’t as aggressive as he wanted it to be.

“I’ve got a metal arm, but I’m still human sir.”

Pierce chuckled to himself, and Bucky wanted to roll his eyes. This man thinks he’s so funny.

“Right. You must never let her leave your sight, if she wants to see her friends— you’ll be seeing them with her. Not that it’s going to be an issue, I don’t think she has many friends… or any.” The boss shrugged, seemingly unconcerned about his daughter.

Bucky nodded, taking everything in.

“You are going to be staying with her in the safe house… well— she thinks it’s just a house but the area is guarded with my men.” He shrugged again. “I’m a successful man and with that comes enemies, people who look for my weaknesses. You know that.”

Bucky gave a tight lipped smile, Pierce so far sounding like a father of the year.

“Now, about my daughter. Her name is (Y/n) (Y/L/n), and she is a handful.” Pierce stated frustratedly. “She’s rude, ungrateful, nasty— and just overall extremely difficult.”

Bucky furrowed his brows, rethinking his decision to be a bodyguard for this girl. Fucking lovely.

“You can now understand why I’m paying you the offered amount. It’s only fair to you, Mr. Barnes. Truthfully, I can’t deal with her anymore. I love her, and she’s my daughter but… It just doesn’t work out with me. I’m a busy man— I don’t have time for brats.” Pierce spat, straightening up and heading back around his desk.

Bucky had already been creating this mental image of you, so far you sounded like a witch. He was not at all ready to be dealing with you 24/7.

“Doesn’t sound like a problem boss, I’m happy to be protecting your daughter. Nobody will lay a hair on her head, I swear on my life.” Bucky promised again, bowing his head slightly.

“Oh I know. If anything happens to her and I find out you were slacking even by an inch… well you’re a smart man, I’m sure you can figure it out.” Pierce warned, and Bucky swallowed at the mere intimidation that laced his voice.

But he would not back down to this challenge, which is how he saw this— not a job.

“That will be all Mr. Barnes, (Y/n) is around here somewhere. Find her and take her home.” He told Bucky, putting on his glasses— focusing on his paperwork.

“Yes sir.”

Bucky nodded and turned to exit the room. He was so confused with the interaction. You’d think someone who hires a bodyguard for their daughter would know where their daughter is. The way he spoke about you was off putting. Bucky didn’t even know you, but it felt wrong to hear someone talk so little about you. What did he know anyway— apparently you were a monster.

He made his way through the building with a swift walk, needing to fulfill his duties and find you quickly. He was on the third floor, about to hit the button to the elevator when he saw a young lady. Despite him wanting to find you all on his own, he got her attention.

“Excuse me,” He waved to her with a fake smile, “Do you know where I can find (Y/n) (Y/L/n)?”

The lady smiled and took Bucky by surprise by laughing. His fake smile vanished immediately, his eyes squinting in a annoyed expression.

“That would be me!” You exclaimed with a warm smile.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he thought for a second he was being fucked with, but after you stayed smiling at him, being as patient as ever— he knew you weren’t joking.

“Uh right… Your dad is Pierce?” He asked hesitantly, keeping his guard up. Still thinking someone was messing with him— testing him.

You nodded slowly, giving him a curious expression. Your smile never wavering.

“Yes, and you are?” You asked so politely.

Bucky shouldn’t of been as shocked as he was but truthfully, he was expecting a demon spawn of a person. Red eyes, withered flowers left in your path, a literal storm cloud floating over you— but you looked so normal. So sweet and pretty. Your hair smelled so strongly of strawberry shampoo, he could catch the scent from his spot. Your voice was like honey, the sound soothing.

He was confused as to why your father thought so wrongly of you. He had too many questions.

He cleared his throat, straightening himself now that he believed you were who he was looking for.

“(Y/n), my name is Mr. Barnes— I’ve been hired as your personal bodyguard.” He informed you, watching the corners of your mouth falter slightly.

“Oh, did my Father hire you?” You asked politely.

“Yes ma’am.”

You nodded your head, attempting to keep a smile on your face. But you couldn’t help the distaste for being given a bodyguard. You knew it was only for the sole purpose, that your Father didn’t want to care for you anymore. He wanted nothing to do with you. That fact was enough to make your nose start to burn, but you held yourself together— not wanting to break down in front of this new guy.

Bucky watched you take in the information, the way you took a deep breath, almost controlling yourself before you spoke again.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Barnes. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends.” You told him.

Bucky shook his head, an annoyed expression etching his face.

“Ma’am, I think we should keep things professional. I have been hired as your bodyguard. Let me do my job, and you can continue with your day as usual. You won’t even know I’m here half the time.” He explained rather harshly.

You seemed taken aback, his words hurting you more than they should’ve. You were lonely, and you thought you’d be able to get a friend out of this situation. Even if he was being hired to hang around you. Luck didn’t seem to be on your side as he told you off. The burning felt stronger in your nose, and you took another deep breath.

Bucky only felt bad for a second, but he was quickly snapping back to reality. It was his life on the line to protect you, and if Bucky was anything— it was that he was good at doing his job. This was business, not playtime.

“I’m here to take you home. Are you ready?” He asked you.

You relaxed your quick beating heart, not even having time to speak with your Father. Not that he’d want to anyway. So much had changed since your Mother passed, you had yet to heal those wounds.

You nodded with a weaker smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. If Bucky had noticed your sudden mood change, he didn’t mention it— instead guiding you outside.

He opened the door to the car that was waiting outside for you, climbing in himself after you were settled.

He started driving to your place, with the help of the car telling him directions.

Meanwhile you gazed out the window, watching the buildings pass by. You forced yourself to keep a small smile on your face, hoping you’d convince yourself that the gesture was genuine if you did it long enough.

Bucky glanced back at you through the rear view mirror from time to time, watching you look out the window. He was still trying to come to terms with how polite you were, how completely opposite you were to your Fathers description.

On one hand it was a relief that he didn’t have to deal with the devil. On the other hand… he was anxious to see where this job would lead him.

A/N: I don’t know what is wrong with me, but suddenly I had this urge to write a bodyguard!bucky fic. let’s be honest, we are all slut’s for bodyguard!bucky 😭 I’m also a whore for the trope grumpy x sunshine 🥰🥴 let me know what you think— this is all word vomit.

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #sebastian stan #buckybarnes #fluff #marvel imagines #light angst #oneshot #bodyguard bucky barnes #bodyguard au #mob au #grumpy x sunshine #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #beefy bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #mini series

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lokiswifeduh · 6 months ago

Text

Doll, please

Pairings- Mob!Bucky x Fem!reader

Summary- Bucky is taken by the reader's ex-boyfriend. You go to save him, not knowing it was a trap.

Warnings- crime, violence, mention of drugs, angst, minor fluff, character being shot, cussing, torture, graphic violence.

WC- 2.6k

masterlist

James was taken, that was definite. The reason was still unknown. Of course, many people had motives. He runs the city. Being the head of organized crime. He had eyes and ears everywhere. He moved drugs and was the owner of most clubs, restaurants, and companies.

His only weakness is you.

However, Rumlow didn't take you. He took Bucky. You knew that for sure.

"Steve, please tell me you know a location. Something, anything?" The blonde looks down at the computer, wanting to give you some form of information. But comes up with nothing.

"I'm sorry, we still don't have anything."

You groan, putting your head in your hands and groaning.

"Boss' tracker went dark before he made it across the bridge into Brooklyn." Sam walks in, throwing the last known location that was printed down onto the table.

Your head perked up, running over to look over the information. "So let's go check it out." But Steve shakes his head, "No." "Why not?!"

He moves forward, getting slightly in your face. "Because that bridge has over five thousand people on it hourly." He throws the paper out of your hands and into the trash bin next to the door. "Buck may be missing but damn it I will not endanger you in any way in his absence." "But Steve-" "No!!" He shouts, making you flinch slightly. "You stay put where it's safe until we know why and or how he was taken." You let out a long breath, "Fuck this." Taking long strides you run out of the room and to your and Bucky's shared bedroom.

"Watch her." Steve mumbles, making Sam nod.

There was protocol, you knew that. If there was ever a reason why Bucky couldn't run things, Steve was the one who was appointed to take over. But just as Bucky would have it, Steve would never put you in danger. Which made it harder for you to help.

Or Steve would think.

You paced in your shared room, trying to think of ways you could leave, a way you could find your husband. You fiddled with the diamond ring on your finger when suddenly your phone pinged with a text.

You ran over to your bed, grabbing your phone with both hands.

CALL THIS NUMBER IF YOU WANT YOUR HUSBAND BACK ALIVE

You went to the dial pad, dialing in the number with shaky hands and pressing call. It rang four times before picking up. All you heard was silence before you spoke, "Hello, James?"

"Not James, sweetheart." Your heart stopped as you heard the voice of your ex. Brock.

"W-where is he? Is he okay? Is he safe?"

Brock chuckled, requesting to Facetime, to which you accepted; facing the camera up in an attempt to conceal your face.

He switched the camera around, revealing a dark and bloody room, focusing on some steel tools before he panned over to Bucky.

The state of your husband shocked you, making you almost drop the phone. "James?" His face was bloody, cuts and scratches tore his cheeks and jawbone.

His wrists were red, blood dripping from them as the wire that held him down cut into his skin. a knife was sticking out of his thigh, and his chest was adorned with deep lacerations that even you could tell needed stitches.

"Doll?" He lifted his head. His blue eyes had lost the sparkle they had not only a day ago as he looked into the camera.

"Hi love," Tears streamed down your face as you looked at how much damage and torture he had been put through. "I'm so sorry. I promise we're gonna come find you okay? I promise." You hiccuped, sobbing as you watched him grimace in pain.

"Baby don't come. Send Steve. Please, don't come-"

Your husband was silenced with a punch as you yelped. "Stop! Brock, please." The video was taken off of Bucky and went back to Brock. You could still hear him groaning in pain in the background as your ex-boyfriend smirked.

"I'll let him go. But I need you to do one thing for me princess." You gulped, hearing Bucky scream and protest as loud as he could in the back.

"What?" Brock punched Bucky one more time, silencing him.

That only brought more tears to your eyes as you gulped, seeing him give you an evil smile. "You, for him." "You want me?" "I will let Bucky go, as long as I have you in my possession."

You bit your lip, thinking it over. Wondering about how you would even get away. But in the back of your mind, the schematics didn't matter. All that mattered was Bucky being free, even if that meant sacrificing yourself for it.

"Where do I meet you?"

You once again could hear Bucky protesting in the back but tried to keep a straight face while looking at Brock. He smiled again, "At the corner of East 96th and Park." You gulped, realizing how close that was. Brock must've known where your and Bucky's shared home was.

"And you promise you'll let Bucky go right?"

Brock nodded, "For old times sake princess."

You thought it over for a moment, before wiping the still wet tears on your cheeks. "What time?" "You'll meet my men over there in an hour and they'll drive you to the location." "No," You shook your head. "My husband gets dropped off before I even think about going with you." "Ahhh," Brock sighs, turning the camera back to Bucky before landing yet another hit against his already bleeding cheek. "That's not how this is gonna work, sweetheart."

"Okay! Stop!" You screamed, "I'll be there in an hour. Just please don't hurt him anymore."

"Sounds like a deal." Brock sneered, ending the Facetime.

You broke down, falling to your knees on Bucky's side of the bed, clawing onto the covers. You could still smell the faint scent of your husband. The musky pine and balsam were almost gone as you laid on his side all night, crying yourself to sleep.

You had to do this. Steve and Sam were no closer to finding or retrieving him. And you knew they wouldn't let you go alone, or go at all. You just had to find a way to sneak out without anyone noticing.

Thankfully you still had an escape route from when the house was being targeted by HYDRA's men and you needed to get out for your own sanity.

You realized you had been crying, staring at the framed picture of you and Bucky on your wedding day. Looking over at the clock, it was almost time to meet Rumlow.

You slipped on some black leggings, putting on a long-sleeved black shirt and a jacket. Opening Bucky's nightstand drawer, you grabbed the Glock he kept in there and two hand knives.

Slipping one knife into the holster under your shirt and the other one in your boot. Finally hiding the Glock in the back of your pants under the jacket.

Now all you had to do was slip out without Sam, Steve, or any of Bucky's men seeing you. You knew Steve had for sure put you on lockdown.

You opened your door, seeing one guy turn the corner at the end of the hall. You stealthy moved, closing your door behind you, and walked to the other end of the hall, opening the usually locked door to the armory.

Thank god Steve had unlocked it earlier when they thought they had a location.

Moving to the computer in the corner, you disabled the cameras that were placed on your and Bucky's bedroom door. Shifting over you scooted one of the gun racks out of the way, trying not to make too much noise as it revealed a hidden door behind.

You silently thanked Bucky's mom for making an escape door in the brownstone.

Unhooking the latches from the door, you slipped inside the small space and closed it behind you, carefully descending down the ladder. You jumped to the bottom, opening a door to the alley.

The steam from the subway got in your face as you locked the door behind you, blocking your view. You felt a hard hit on the back of your head as you fell to the ground on your knees. You touched the back of your head, feeling the sticky blood on your fingers.

Another hit made you fall all the way down as you rolled over, looking at who your attacker was. "N-Natasha?"

"Night night...doll." One final hit to your skull and everything went black.

-----------------

The first thing you felt was restraints holding your wrists down. Pounding in your head made you not want to open your eyes. But you could swear you heard someone yelling your name.

Lifting your head with as much strength as you could muster you wearily did, squinting.

"Bucky?" You mumbled, still out of it.

"Doll? Wake up, honey. You gotta look at me."

You opened your eyes more, seeing a bloody, tied-up Bucky in front of you. "James!" You tried to stand up but as you did wire cut into your wrists and ankles. "Ah!" You screamed in agony as you looked down at your wrists which were starting to bleed.

"Doll, don't move, okay? It only makes it worse." Your eyes shot back up to Bucky.

"Are you okay? Where is Brock?"

Bucky shook his head, "He hasn't been in since they brought you in here." "Natasha. She hit me in the head." You remembered, wincing.

"I know," Bucky groaned, "I'm gonna fucking kill her for betraying me." You felt your head pound again, making you groan in pain once again.

"What hurts, baby?" Looking Bucky in his eyes, you saw the worry and guilt he held for this. "It's okay. I'm okay." But he could see the pain your body held. Blood dripped down your neck from the back of your head. An open wound was still bleeding on your forehead, and your chest heaved up and down as you tried not to cry. He vowed to protect you and here you were, tied down and bleeding.

"I swear, I will get us out of here, doll. I promise." Bucky gave you the best smile he could when suddenly the door opened. Revealing Brock, and the traitorous redhead behind him.

You kept your head high, not showing your distaste as Rumlow grabbed the front of your neck with his hand, bringing his mouth to the shell of your ear.

Bucky however did, pulling on his restraints which only made blood drip from his wrists more. "Touch her again and I'll have your fucking head, Rumlow."

Bucky's threat only made Brock laugh as he removed his hand from your flesh, allowing you to take a much-needed breath.

"This is how this is gonna go, Barnes." Rumlow walked over to a table, picked up a pair of pliers, and walked back over to Natasha, handing the rusty tool to her.

"You're gonna tell me the codes to that locked safe you have in Moscow. You know the one."

Bucky gritted his teeth, watching how Natasha pulled up a chair, playing with your hand which was still tightly wired down.

"Or what?"

Brock looks over to Natasha, giving her a nod. The redhead puts the head of the pliers on your index finger, pulling it backward, slowly ripping your fingernail back; eliciting a guttural scream from your throat.

"Stop!!" Bucky screamed, but the torture continued. Blood poured from your finger as you pulled and tried to twist away. "Okay! Stop! I'll tell you anything! Stop!!"

The rusty metal was released from your hand as tears streamed down your face.

Rumlow pulled another chair up, sitting in between you and Bucky. "Now that wasn't so hard was it?"

Bucky's brows furrowed in concern, looking only at you. "Doll, I'm so sorry."

You shook your head, "It's not your fault, Buck."

"So, what are the codes?" Rumlow looked over to your husband as Natasha slipped iron knuckles onto her hand. "Don't tell him." You groaned out, knowing Bucky would lose everything he'd built if he gave that information away.

"Shut up!!" Natasha screamed, slamming her fist into your face, the iron weapon hitting your cheekbone and nose, causing your head to whip to the side. You screamed, more tears coming to your eyes as blood started to pour from your nose.

"Stop!" Bucky screamed, "She doesn't know anything! She doesn't have anything to do with this!!" "Oh, but you do." Brock stood, walking behind you and maneuvering your face to look right at your husband. Your chest heaved as you couldn't breathe from your nose without blinding pain. Blood dripped into your mouth and your right hand trembled.

"And this lovely specimen is your only weakness."

Bucky shook his head, "I'll give you everything, just let her go."

But Brock tutted, also shaking his head in disappointment, "I need collateral, Barnes."

"You won't get anything out of me if you hurt her."

Rumlow laughed, "Oh, I bet I will." Moving out of the way, Natasha stroked your face three more times with the weapon, knocking you unconscious.

A tear slipped down Bucky's cheek, "Please, stop. You can have everything." He pleaded, not being able to take his eyes off your beaten and broken body. A sob escaped his chest. He hadn't cried since the day of your wedding, and this was breaking him to his core.

Rumlow moved the chair in front of Bucky. "What's the code."

Bucky gulped, "The code.." He sighed, closing his eyes, "It's her birthday." Opening his eyes, he glared at Rumlow. "It's her birthday." Brock grinned evilly, "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Standing up, he threw the chair to the side, moving over to you and cutting all your restraints off.

You fell to the floor, startling you awake. However you didn't move, your body not being able to gather the strength.

"I gave you the codes, Rumlow! Let her go!" Brock turned back, Natasha and him both standing at the door. "You really think I would let you both out of here alive?" His head pulled back as he laughed. "Not a chance, Barnes." Natasha opened the door, and ten men walked through all with guns, lining up in a row. "This city is mine now."

Closing the door behind him and Natasha, a loud speaker squeaked. "You have thirty seconds to say your goodbyes before the firing squad shoots you both to pieces."

Bucky gulped in fear, not noticing you lifting your boot to grab the knife that was inside.

"Doll, you gotta get up!" Bucky shouted, watching you struggle to pull yourself to stand. The ten men readied their weapons, aiming at you and Bucky. You were surrounded.

Finally, you pulled your body up, hobbling over to him with the knife as you tried to cut the wire from his wrists. "You gotta get out of here, doll." You shook your head, "I'm not leaving you." Tears streamed down your face, hearing Rumlow count down. "I won't"

"Doll, please." Looking up at Bucky finally, you let out a sob you had been holding. Ten seconds left.

"I vowed to stay by your side, Buck." Looking back, ten guns pointed at you. You knew what you had to do. "Doll?"

You dropped the knife, straddling Bucky's lap in the chair, wrapping your arms around his neck, and protecting his vital organs with your body. "NO! Doll, please!!"

The men cocked their guns. "Doll!! Stop!! Get up!!"

You shook your head. "I won't let you die!!"

Suddenly bullets rang through the air, but you kept your head down, your body shook into Bucky's as you felt two bullets hit. You screamed, still attempting to hold onto your husband. Bucky sobbed, "Don't do this to me." You looked up, shakily holding his face in your hands, "I love you, James Barnes." Blood dripped from your mouth, "Till forever and always." "Doll, please."

Everything went black.

Fin

part two

masterlist

#buckybarnes #fanfic #bucky angst #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #bucky imagine #one shot #light angst #angst with a sad ending #avengers #fluff #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mafia!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #husband!bucky

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deliciousangelfestival · 9 months ago

Text

The Lady - 1

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7.

Your ongoing support means the world to me! Reblogs are a fantastic way to help spread the word about my work. I'll do my best to reply to all your comments. Thank you for your continued encouragement!

In the heart of the military training ground, you, a seasoned Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) technician, stand poised amidst a group of nervous soldiers. Among them is Private Jameson, a newcomer with trembling hands and apprehensive eyes. With unwavering composure, you take charge, your voice steady as you address the group.

"Today, we're covering the basics of bomb disposal," you begin, your tone reassuring yet firm. Turning to Private Jameson, you offer a patient smile.

"You, Private. What's your name?" Despite his nervousness, Private Jameson responds, and you guide him with a calming presence, instilling confidence as you impart your expertise.

"Jameson, take a deep breath," you instruct softly but firmly. "Remember, focus is key. You've got this." Private Jameson nods, his eyes locked on your reassuring gaze.

As he examines the device, you watch attentively, offering guidance with each movement. When he finishes, you nod approvingly. "Well done, Private. Now, let's move on."

As Private Jameson continues under your guidance, the other soldiers watch with admiration. They've seen you in action before, witnessed your dedication to the mission and your willingness to put yourself in harm's way for the greater good.

"Ma'am, what if the situation calls for immediate action?" Private Reynolds interjects, reflecting the group's curiosity.

You acknowledge the gravity of the question. "In a real-world scenario, there may not be time for thorough examination," you explain calmly. "Trust your instincts and make split-second decisions."

Private Jameson glances at you, newfound respect shining in his eyes. "But you always seem so calm under pressure, ma'am," he remarks admiringly.

You smile humbly, reflecting on the countless moments of uncertainty you've faced. "It's not about being fearless, Private," you reply earnestly. "It's about pushing through fear for those counting on you."

Your words hang in the air, a silent reminder of the sacrifices made by soldiers like you every day. With renewed determination, Private Jameson nods, his resolve strengthened by your example.

As the door of the training facility echoed with a sharp knock, you exchanged a puzzled glance with your comrades. The abrupt interruption stirred a sense of unease within you, a foreboding whisper of uncertainty.

"A lawyer wants to see you," the soldier at the door announced, his voice tinged with urgency.

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "Me?" you repeated, your mind racing to grasp the sudden turn of events. "Hmm, he sounds British," you mused aloud, your instincts sharpened by years of training.

With measured steps, you followed your comrade through the maze of corridors until you reached the visitor's area. There, standing before you, was a figure from your past, a familiar face veiled in the somber cloak of time.

"Miss," the lawyer greeted you with a solemn nod, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken truths.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized him, the memories flooding back like an unstoppable tide. It had been fifteen years since you last saw him, a lifetime of distance and estrangement separating you.

"I assumed something bad happened?" you ventured cautiously, your tone laced with concern and apprehension.

The lawyer, Cedric, nodded gravely, his expression betraying the gravity of the news he bore.

You and Cedric found a quiet place to talk. "Something's wrong?" you inquired, noting the somber expression on Cedric's face as he adjusted his glasses.

Cedric remained silent momentarily, his gaze fixed on the ground before meeting your eyes. "Duke Rupert died two days ago," he finally uttered, his voice laden with gravity.

Your heart clenched at the news. Duke Rupert was your stepfather, and the thought of his passing filled you with a mix of sorrow and apprehension.

Cedric continued, his words weighed down by the weight of the news. "On his will, he wrote that he wants all the family to gather. I came here as soon as I could. And you could attend the funeral too. He probably wants it too."

You nodded, absorbing the information with a heavy heart. The sudden loss of Duke Rupert had thrown your world into disarray, and the prospect of gathering with the family only added to the uncertainty swirling within you.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself, determined to face whatever lay ahead with strength

You nodded in response to Cedric's words, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "I'll gather my things," you said quietly, steeling yourself for the task ahead.

As you packed your belongings into your bag, Private Jameson approached you, his curiosity evident in his voice. "So, it turns out you're a noble," he remarked, his tone tinged with surprise.

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head in response. "I'm not. It was my step-dad. There's no noble blood in me," you explained, a hint of self-deprecation in your voice.

Jameson furrowed his brow, his curiosity piqued. "We've been working together for years, but you never mentioned anything about this," he observed, his tone filled with genuine interest.

You zipped up your bag, pausing momentarily before meeting Jameson's gaze. "It's just family stuff. Nothing interesting," you replied cryptically, a hint of sadness flickering in your eyes before you turned away, ready to face the uncertain future that lay ahead.

After a grueling 12-hour flight, you finally arrived back in the UK. As the car pulled up to Evergreen Abbey, your childhood home, a rush of nostalgia washed over you. The manor stood proudly, its historical façade unchanged by the passing years.

Stepping out of the car, you took a moment to absorb the familiar sight before you. The memories of your upbringing flooded back, filling you with a sense of belonging despite the years of absence.

As you entered the manor, you were greeted by the sight of a middle-aged woman wearing a classic black dress adorned with a string of pearls. Her youthful aura belied the years that had passed since you last saw her. It was your mother, Susan.

"You're back," she exclaimed, opening her arms wide to envelop you in a warm embrace. The familiar scent of her perfume brought tears to your eyes as you returned her hug, feeling a sense of comfort and homecoming wash over you.

You nodded as Susan spoke, absorbing the news of Duke Rupert's accident with a heavy heart. The realization that your stepfather had passed away hit you like a wave, stirring emotions you had long buried.

"I'm so sorry. What happened?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine concern as you reached out to grasp Susan's hand for support.

Susan sighed her expression a mixture of sadness and frustration. "That silly old man's, I told him not to ride a horse, but he insisted and he fell," she explained, her tone tinged with regret. "Rupert always well-prepared, but I don't know why he really insisted on riding a horse that day."

Before you could respond, the sound of another voice broke through the somber atmosphere. "Thank God you're here," the voice exclaimed, drawing your attention. You turned to see your stepbrother, Charles, standing before you.

But your breath caught in your throat when you saw him wearing priestly attire. "Charles?" you uttered in disbelief, your eyes widening in surprise.

Charles opened his arms and enveloped you in a warm hug, his presence comforting despite the unexpected change in his appearance. "I'm glad you're here," he said, his handshake firm and sincere as he greeted you.

You were speechless, your mind struggling to process the transformation before you. There was a warmth in Charles's eyes, a genuine kindness that seemed to radiate from within him. He was different from the last time you saw him, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sight of him in his new role.

"Are you wearing a cassock?" you finally managed to ask, your voice filled with curiosity as you glanced at Charles's attire.

Susan gently pinched your arm, her expression amused yet reproachful. "Silly girl, this is why you should reply to my letters, phone calls, and emails," she chided gently. "Charles has become a priest."

"I know you will find it hard to believe. But I went through a miracle that made me fully believed in God." As Charles spoke of his newfound faith, you struggled to reconcile this revelation with the memory of Charlie, who once hurled harsh words at you.

Then you heard a familiar voice, cutting through the tension like a knife. "You're here."

It was Charlotte, Charles's twin sister. Her gaze bore into you with the same disdain it always had, unchanged after all these years.

Charlotte was never one to hide her feelings about you. From the moment your mother brought you into their lives, she had seen you as nothing more than an unwanted burden.

Your mother's marriage to the Duke had brought you into a world of privilege and resentment. While your stepfather had become a father figure you'd never had, it came at the cost of your relationship with your own mother. Susan was desperate to fit into her new role as Duchess, and you were often left feeling like an outsider in your own home.

The Duke's children, Charles and Charlotte, had quickly formed a bond with your mother, leaving you feeling like an intruder in your own family. They resented you for stealing their father's attention, and the tension between you had only grown over the years.

Living at Evergreen Abbey had always felt like walking on eggshells. That's why, as soon as you came of age, you left for the United States and joined the army, seeking refuge from the suffocating atmosphere of the manor.

Charlotte's cold gaze was a painful reminder of the resentment that had always simmered beneath the surface. "Let's get this over with, please," she said, her words dripping with disdain.

"What does it mean?" you asked, scanning the room for answers but finding only silence and the weight of years of unresolved conflict hanging heavy in the air.

You couldn't believe your eyes as Charles stood before you, now a priest leading your stepfather's funeral. Rupert's passing seemed surreal, and as they closed the casket, you had a chance to see his face one last time.

His face looked different, smiling unnaturally due to the glue used to preserve it. It starkly contrasted the smile you remembered, and you regretted not seeing Rupert one last time before this moment. Placing a red rose near his casket, you whispered, "I'm going to miss you."

During the burial, your gaze wandered, and you noticed a little boy standing near your mother.

But someone standing alone amidst the gathering of family and guests caught your attention. Who is he?

After the burial concluded, the house filled with guests offering condolences. The strange man also disappeared. Susan and Charles gracefully accepted their sympathies, while Charlotte's whereabouts only God knows.

Amidst the crowd, you heard a gentle voice call your name. "Y/N?"

Turning around, you saw Eddie standing there. "Eddie? How are you?" You greeted him with a side hug, grateful for the familiarity in the midst of the somber occasion.

Eddie hugged you back, offering his condolences as you shared a moment of solace amid the chaos of the gathering.

Eddie's inquiry about your military service brought back memories, including a long-kept secret: you used to have a crush on him. It was partly why you joined the army, sharing a dream of serving alongside him. "Yeah," you answered, still groggy from the day's emotions.

"What about you? Did you join the army too?"

Eddie chuckled. "I did, but I left to pursue a business."

You nodded, finding it fitting for him. "You're looking more like a duke these days."

Taking a sip of water, Eddie revealed a surprising truth. "I am. I became a duke after my father passed."

Your shock was evident. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Eddie's chuckle held a hint of understanding. "Yeah, after you left, you sort of cut contacts with everyone."

You hesitated, recalling the mention of a will by Cedric. "What about your family tradition? Isn't your older brother supposed to be the duke?"

Eddie's expression shifted slightly. "It changed after my father's will."

Your unease grew as thoughts of Rupert's will resurfaced. Eddie noticed your worry and reached out, touching your hand. "Hey, if you need me, just call me."

Grateful for his support, you managed a small smile. "Thanks, Eddie."

########

As everyone sat waiting for the lawyer, a new presence entered the room. A little boy, perhaps around 10 years old, joined the gathering, taking a seat beside Charlotte. He stole occasional glances in your direction, his curiosity evident in his wide-eyed gaze.

Unable to contain your surprise, you turned to Charlotte and asked, "You have a child?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes in response, her annoyance palpable, while Charles chuckled softly at the exchange.

Feeling a familiar pinch on your arm, you turned to see Susan giving you a reproachful look. "This is why you should've answered my calls. He's your brother," she scolded gently.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "Huh?!" you exclaimed, your mind struggling to comprehend the revelation as you glanced back at the little boy sitting beside Charlotte, a newfound sense of connection dawning within you. Now his face and future look similar to yours.

You found yourself at a loss for words, grappling with the sudden revelation of a long-lost sibling. The realization that you had cut off all contact when you joined the army weighed heavily on your conscience, leaving you with a profound sense of regret for the years of missed connections and lost opportunities.

Running a hand through your face, you let out a weary sigh, the weight of the past 15 years bearing down on you like a heavy burden. "Will there be another surprise?" you wondered aloud, the question hanging in the air as you braced yourself for whatever other unexpected twists fate had in store for you.

A few minutes later, Cedric, the lawyer, strode into the room with purpose, placing his briefcase on the table before retrieving the file. With a solemn expression, he began to read aloud the contents of Duke Rupert's will.

"Everyone will get a share of his insurance and investments," Cedric announced, his voice measured and professional. "Except Y/N."

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of resignation at the news, having expected as much given the strained dynamics within the family. Glancing around the room, you noted the acceptance in your mother's and the twins' expressions, as if they had anticipated this outcome.

But then, Cedric's next words shattered the calm facade that had settled over the room. "For the Evergreen Abbey Manor and the title, I hereby give it to Y/N L/N," he continued, his voice resolute.

Your shock was palpable, the expletive escaping your lips before you could stop it.

'HUH?!'

"What the fuck?" you exclaimed, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events as the weight of Duke Rupert's decision settled heavily upon you.

As Charles let out a disbelieving "Hoo," and Charlotte expressed her relief with a curt "Great, not my problem anymore," the tension in the room seemed to escalate.

'Wait. The twins aren't angry?'

Your mother reached out, gently squeezing your hand and offering a reassuring look, her silent support a comforting anchor amidst the chaos unfolding around you.

"Why do I feel like I'm carrying a bomb in my hand?" you muttered, the weight of Duke Rupert's legacy pressing down on you like a heavy burden.

Cedric adjusted his glasses, his expression grave as he spoke. "When you became the Lady of this house... Your grace, pardon me that I have to tell you this," he began carefully. "The former Duke had debts, and he was involved in what we might call 'creative' work."

"You mean drugs, gambling, and the like?" you interjected, your voice laced with disbelief.

Susan shot you a warning glance, her lips forming a silent reprimand. "You shouldn't say that word in front of your brother," she whispered, her tone urgent.

Turning to her younger son, she leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's not drugs, but weed," she clarified softly.

"Oh, wow. Now I feel relieved," you replied sarcastically, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you as you struggled to come to terms with the unexpected revelations about Duke Rupert's illicit activities.

You ran a hand through your hair in frustration, the enormity of the situation sinking in. "How much is the debt?" you asked, your voice tinged with apprehension.

"8 million pounds," Cedricbreplied solemnly, his tone grave.

Charles made the sign of the cross a gesture of disbelief. "Oh Lord," he murmured under his breath.

"And he wants me to repay the debt when I never took a single cent?" you exclaimed, incredulity coloring your words as you struggled to comprehend the injustice of it all.

"Was he high when he wrote the will? Why me?!!"

Sighing heavily, you turned your gaze towards the imposing manor, its grandeur now overshadowed by the weight of Duke Rupert's debts. "Can I just sell this manor?" you wondered aloud, desperation creeping into your voice.

"It will take months or years, Your Grace. And the debt has to be paid by the end of this month," Cedric explained, punctuated by a sense of urgency.

But before you could act on your impulse, Susan's voice cut through the air, her tone laced with urgency and apprehension. "You can't sell the manor," she interjected, her gaze pleading with you to reconsider.

Confusion flickered in your eyes as you turned to face her, a mix of frustration and resignation bubbling up inside you. "Why not?" you demanded, your voice tinged with exasperation.

Susan's response was swift, her words carrying the weight of years of pent-up frustration and resentment. "If you sell the manor, I would lose my title as a duchess," she explained, her voice quavering with emotion.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, stirring up memories of the strained relationship that had defined your interactions with Susan over the years. Her obsession with upholding the image of a perfect duchess had driven a wedge between you, leaving your relationship fraught with tension and resentment.

As you stood there, grappling with the weight of Duke Rupert's debts and the expectations thrust upon you by your title, you couldn't help but feel a sense of bitterness creeping in.

You let out another sigh, resigned to the reality of the situation. "I need a drink," you muttered, the thought of seeking solace in the most potent alcohol near the lake seeming like the only reprieve from the turmoil raging inside you.

As you sat by the lake's tranquil waters, the weight of the situation bearing down on you, regret began to seep into your thoughts like a creeping mist.

Coming back here had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now, faced with the reality of Duke Rupert's debts and the burden they placed upon you, you couldn't help but wonder if it had been a mistake.

Taking a sip of your whiskey, you allowed the warmth of the liquid to wash over you, momentarily easing the turmoil in your mind. But even the soothing embrace of alcohol couldn't dispel the unease gnawing at your insides.

Lost in your thoughts, you were startled when a small figure approached, breaking the silence that had settled over the lakeside. You glanced up to see your little stepbrother, Hugo, standing before you with a tentative expression on his face.

"Uh, hi. Hello. I'm your older sister," you greeted awkwardly, the words feeling foreign on your tongue.

Hugo returned your greeting with a shy smile. "Hi, step-bro. Hugo. Ten years old," he introduced himself, his voice soft and uncertain.

An awkward silence hung between you, the gap between your worlds feeling vast and insurmountable. Sensing the tension, you made an effort to bridge the divide.

"You want to walk?" you offered, gesturing towards the path that wound its way around the edge of the lake.

Hugo hesitated for a moment before nodding hesitantly. "Hmm...," he murmured, his eyes brightening with a hint of curiosity as he took a tentative step forward, ready to embark on this uncertain journey with you.

As you and Hugo began to playfully throw stones into the lake, the tension between you gradually dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie born from the simple joy of shared activity.

"So, Hugo, do you know what's happening at the household?" you asked, choosing your words carefully. You had learned in the military that children often possessed an innate honesty that could shed light on complex situations.

Hugo paused in his stone-throwing, considering your question for a moment before responding. "Walls have ears, and the workers always gossip," he replied cryptically, his voice tinged with wisdom beyond his years.

Impressed by his insight, you couldn't help but smile. "Wow," you remarked, genuinely impressed by Hugo's observation. "Do you want to share?" you prompted, curious to hear his perspective on the goings-on within the household.

As Hugo shared his insights, you listened intently, surprised by the depth of understanding hidden behind his youthful facade.

"Charlie doesn't want to take the house because of the debt, and he wants to become a pope," Hugo explained matter-of-factly, his words carrying a weight of resignation.

You responded with a puzzled "Huh?"

"And Charlotte doesn't care since she's going to marry a prince. She doesn't want anything related to Dad's 'creative work.' It will ruin her image."

"Her image? She's marrying a prince?" you interjected, your incredulity evident in your tone.

Hugo regarded you with a knowing look. "You're really ignorant, huh?" he remarked bluntly, his words stinging with a hint of playful teasing.

Feeling a pang of embarrassment at being corrected by a child, you cleared your throat awkwardly. "Hey..." you started, but Hugo continued without missing a beat.

"Sis Charlotte has quite millions of followers on social media," he elaborated, his voice tinged with a hint of admiration. "If her name is connected to weed and family debt—"

"It will ruin her image, and she'll have to pay the penalty," you finished, the implications sinking in as you processed Hugo's words. "Wait, how old are you again?" you asked, feeling a mix of surprise and amusement at the maturity of his observations.

Hugo raised both hands, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Ten," he replied, the innocence of his youth juxtaposed against the weight of the knowledge he carried.

You chuckled softly, taking another sip of your whiskey as you observed Hugo with newfound respect. Children were indeed frighteningly perceptive these days, and you made a mental note to tread carefully around him in the future.

You looked at the lake and sighed again. No wonder Charlie felt relieved upon seeing you. He wouldn't have to worry about these things. If his past caught up with him while pursuing his path to becoming a pope, it would ruin everything for him.

As for Charlotte, nothing ever seems to be enough for her. If her future in-laws from the royal family were to find out about this business, they would likely cancel her marriage.

So it's obvious they were relieved when Rupert chose you as the heir.

As both of you made your way back home, your senses went on high alert as you spotted a black Range Rover parked near the entrance. The sight of the familiar car sent a chill down your spine, and you felt a sense of unease settle in the pit of your stomach.

He's the man who watched Rupert's funeral from afar.

"Hugo, go inside," you instructed quietly, your voice tinged with urgency as you gestured for him to retreat to the safety of the house.

The man who emerged from the car was none other than the same individual you had seen at the funeral. James Barnes, or "Bucky" as he preferred to be called, approached you with a confident stride, his demeanor exuding an air of authority.

"Sorry to disturb your afternoon walk," Bucky began, his voice smooth and polite. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm James Barnes, but you could call me Bucky."

You nodded in acknowledgment, your guard instinctively rising as you braced yourself for whatever news he had come to deliver. "How can I help you, Mr. Barnes?" you inquired, your tone guarded yet polite.

"It's difficult for me to say while you're still grieving," Bucky admitted, his expression sympathetic. "But the former duke owed money to us."

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "You see, Mr. Barnes, I just got here two days ago after 15 years," you explained wearily, the weight of Duke Rupert's legacy pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at your revelation, his interest piqued. "Yeah, Rupert mentioned it a couple of times," he remarked casually.

"Did he?" you muttered under your breath, feeling a surge of annoyance at Duke Rupert's apparent penchant for gossip.

"Let's continue this at the office," you suggested tersely, eager to put some distance between yourself and the unsettling presence of James Barnes.

As you stepped into Rupert's office for the first time, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, mingling with the lingering scent of his cigar and the familiar musk that seemed to permeate the room. It was a scent you had grown accustomed to over the years, a reminder of the man who had once occupied this space.

Pouring another whiskey for yourself and a glass for Bucky, you couldn't help but feel a pang of melancholy as you reflected on the memories associated with this room. Duke Rupert's presence seemed to linger in every corner, his larger-than-life persona casting a shadow over the space.

Bucky took a moment to savor the whiskey, his expression one of appreciation. "Your step-dad always did have a good collection of alcohol," he remarked, a hint of nostalgia coloring his words as he raised his glass in a silent toast.

You nodded in agreement, acknowledging the truth in his words. Despite the complexities of his character, Duke Rupert had always taken pride in his impressive selection of drinks, a testament to his refined taste and penchant for the finer things in life.

Taking a sip of your drink, you cleared your throat, breaking the heavy silence in the air. "Do you have business with my step-dad?" you asked, your tone cautious as you eyed Bucky across the desk.

Bucky's admission hung heavy in the air as he spoke, his words carrying a weight of responsibility and obligation.

"I lent him my money and I protected him," he explained, his tone tinged with a sense of duty.

"Why? His weed business didn't work out?" you asked, curiosity piqued by the revelation.

Bucky shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "It was successful. But he had a change of heart and wanted out. And his boss didn't like it. That's where I came in," he elaborated, his expression grave.

"Eight million pounds. Is all because of you?" you queried, the enormity of the debt now beginning to make sense.

Bucky tilted his head, his gaze meeting yours with a solemn intensity. "The price of the damage I got for protecting your step-dad. I gained more enemies," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

Setting down your whiskey glass, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. Despite the tangled web of intrigue and deceit surrounding Duke Rupert, at least his involvement in the weed business was not the cause of his debts.

You let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. Options seemed limited, and each path forward appeared fraught with challenges and uncertainties.

Glancing at the bank statements and stock reports spread out on the desk before you, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. Duke Rupert's financial situation was far from ideal, and the prospect of producing eight million pounds seemed increasingly daunting.

Your mother's reluctance to sell the manor only added to the complexity of the situation. Despite the financial burden it represented, the estate held sentimental value for her, serving as a tangible connection to Duke Rupert and the life they had built together.

The twins' indifference to the predicament only further highlighted the sense of isolation you felt in confronting this dilemma alone. But then your thoughts turned to Hugo, the youngest member of the family, and the realization dawned on you that the manor held a special significance for him as well.

Selling off the artwork and alcohol collection was a possibility, but the process would take time, and the prospect of navigating the complexities of the open market and taxation only added to the uncertainty.

With few options left to consider, you knew that your best course of action was to confront the man himself. Despite your reservations, you couldn't ignore the fact that Bucky held the key to unraveling the mystery of Duke Rupert's debts.

As the desire to return to the U.S. gnawed at you, a sense of urgency washed over you, driving you to seek resolution as quickly as possible. But with time ticking away and the weight of responsibility bearing on your shoulders, you knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and sacrifices.

You sighed heavily, the weight of the situation settling upon your shoulders. "What options do I have?

Bucky's smile was almost too slick, his finger pointing at you like a loaded gun. "I really like your attitude, Your Grace. Straight to the point," he remarked, his voice smooth as silk.

As he unbuttoned his suit and slid his hands into his pocket pants, a sense of foreboding settled over you like a dark cloud. "I'm also intrigued by your career as an expert in bombs," he continued, his words sending a chill down your spine.

A knot of unease tightened in your stomach as you braced yourself for what was to come. "Go on," you replied tersely, the tension crackling in the air between you.

With a calculated gesture, Bucky brought his hands together, the glint of gold rings catching the light and adding an air of menace to his demeanor. "I will make the debt of 8 million pounds disappear. If you help me," he declared, his tone dripping with promise.

Your heart skipped a beat at the audacity of his offer, the implications of his words sinking in like a lead weight. "What do you want?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your shoulders.

Bucky hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering with uncertainty before he finally spoke. "I've got more competition after I helped Rupert. Thinking about it gives me headaches. That's where you come in," he explained cryptically, his words laden with hidden meaning.

Raising an eyebrow, you regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The silence stretched between you, thick with tension, until Bucky finally broke it with a chilling revelation. "I want you to create an explosion. To get rid of them," he stated bluntly, his eyes boring into yours with unwavering intensity.

"Fuck!"

Cursing under your breath, you cast a wary glance at the painting of Rupert hanging on the wall. His eyes seemed to bore into you, judging your every move. As an army EOD technician, the thought of making a bomb for a criminal to pay off a debt filled you with a sense of dread.

Regret gnawed at you like a festering wound as you grappled with the weight of the decision before you. Coming back home had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now, faced with the reality of the situation, you couldn't help but wish you had never returned.

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sjsmith56 · 2 days ago

Text

A Better Man, Part 10 - Walkthrough

Summary: A year later two momentous occasions are pending. First, the three partners of Shield Renovations await the dropping of all charges against them. Secondly, there is a wedding soon to happen.

Length: 4.7 K

Characters: Bucky, Steve, Sam, Winnifred, Andrea, Lily, Natasha, Bruce.

Warnings: Fluffy fluff with a final touch of anxiety from Bucky.

Author notes: I hope you liked this mostly sweet story of a shy man falling for the right woman. Although there was some darkness, it also showed Bucky’s qualities that made him the better man.

<<Part 9

Part 10

One year later

The three partners sat in Bucky's office late on a Friday afternoon, waiting nervously. The courier was supposed to bring the confirmation directly to them but according to Hope Van Dyne, he had left the District Attorney's office well over an hour ago.

"Maybe he got into an accident," said Sam, cracking his knuckles and getting glares from his two friends at the sounds. "Well, why else would he be late? Don't those guys go all out on their bikes? It's gotta be that or someone trying to stop us getting cleared completely. Pierce could still have people on his payroll."

"You watched that movie again, didn't you?" asked Steve, rolling his eyes. "That Premium Rush one? There are no corrupt cops wanting to screw us over, okay? Both Natasha and Maria said that as far as the NYPD is concerned, we're reformed. They're all rooting for us, plus ever since we did Tom Benson's renovation, he's managed to refer a dozen other clients to us. Our reputation is sterling."

"It will be fine," said Bucky, searching his pockets in vain. He looked at Steve. "Give me some gum, will you?"

He reached into the chest pocket of his Shield Renovations and Construction polo shirt, pulling out a package of gum and handing a strip to Bucky. Another hand appeared in front of him, and he placed one in Sam's hand before taking one himself. Although all three of them gave up smoking, they still needed a substitute vice when they were stressed, and gum was the vice of choice. They sat quietly, chewing away, then the door opened, and Hope came in with a large envelope.

"It's here," she said.

Bucky put his hand out, taking it from her, then she left. At the time he hired her it was because Mrs. Parker said she was swamped but in reality, Hope Van Dyne was her hand-picked choice to replace her. Knowing that the operation was close to being wrapped up, Mrs. Parker had stumbled across the capable administrative assistant on her daily commute, befriending her and offering her consolation over the antics of the younger woman's employer. Even though May Parker contemplated retiring from the FBI to continue working with the company, another undercover assignment was offered to her and she felt compelled to accept it. The last they heard she was working at a private golf club and resort in Florida, keeping an eye on a retired high-level politician who seemed to have a lot of foreign dignitaries visiting him at all hours of the day and night.

"Are you going to open it, or what?" asked Sam, interrupting Bucky's thoughts.

With an irritated glance at his friend, Bucky opened the envelope and pulled out three sheets of paper, handing one each to Sam and Steve. They all read the words on the papers then at each other, slowly smiling.

"We're good," said Sam. "Fury has come through. We're completely legit!"

"We can travel," said Bucky. "I was worried that it wouldn't come through before the wedding and we couldn't go on our honeymoon."

"I can propose now," said Steve, then he blushed.

"Wait, what? You're proposing to Natasha? Does she know? Maria never said anything about a proposal."

"Of course, she doesn't know," answered Steve, pushing Sam in the arm. "Dumbass. It's a proposal. It's supposed to be a surprise."

Sam rubbed his arm, then grinned, offering his hand to Steve. "Congratulations, man. She had you wrapped around her finger from the very start."

"She did not. What about you and Maria? You wanted her to move in within a month."

"Did not. Her lease was ending, and I was being nice."

Bucky watched and listened to their bickering, then crumpled up a post-it note and threw it at Steve. His two friends stopped talking, switching their attention to him.

"Now that we have our confirmation that the charges are all dropped and expunged, I'm going home," he said, standing up. "I'm going to hug my daughter, read her a story and tuck her in, then take my almost wife to bed."

"You can't," said Steve. He ran his hand through his hair. "You're coming out with us for your stag. It's all arranged. Andrea knows that you'll probably crash with me tonight."

"Guys ... I didn't want one."

"I know, but the troops did and a good general always supports his troops. Just so you know, we're meeting at a sports bar that has twenty different burgers, a hundred different beers, and games galore. No strippers, no hookers, nothing that you or we would ever be ashamed of." He gestured at Bucky's company shirt. "I have something for you to change into."

He left, coming back with one of Bucky's favourite shirts. With a sigh, Bucky changed, while Steve and Sam changed theirs. They locked up, since Hope had already left, and headed to where they could hail a taxi. After a short ride they arrived at their destination and made sure that Bucky walked in ahead of them. It was full of every guy who worked for them, including Thor, and Peter Quill. A beer was put into Bucky's hands, then Steve stood on a chair, holding his beer up.

"In a week, Bucky gets married to Andrea, a woman that stole his heart from the first moment he saw her. Sam and I met her two weeks before, quite by accident as she was taking her baby girl, Lily, out for a walk. We were having a smoke break, and this breath of fresh air approached us, then stopped, smiled, and asked where the nearest park was. Sam, being the smooth operator he was, asked about Lily, then gave Andrea advice about child raising, based on his experiences as uncle to his sister's two boys. She thanked him and walked away, leaving us feeling a little colder and in the dark without her presence. Two weeks after that, Bucky joined us, and it was like a light went on in his head and his heart. Those of you who witnessed this special time knew that he was a changed man. In his opinion, he's become a better man since then. To our better man, Bucky Barnes."

They all repeated it and drank to him. He smiled shyly and looked at all of them.

"After my surgery, we decided to change the name of Barnes Contracting to something new. It was Andrea who suggested Shield Renovations and Construction. She said the shield would represent protection, something that she felt with us. She told me of how you all waited at the hospital during my surgery and told stories about us, about how we gave you all a second chance to be better men. Obviously, you all wanted it, because you bought into our limited scope of operations and when we went legitimate you stayed with us. We wouldn't be where we are today without you all. Thank you for believing in us and in yourselves. We're only as good as the people who work for us, and right now, I think we have the best of men as our employees."

He drank more of his beer, then received many handshakes and shoulder squeezes from everyone as they began to party. For several hours Bucky nursed his beers, drinking only three in total. After making sure Steve and Sam got home okay, he took a taxi to the brownstone and paid the driver, looking up at the building in the dark. He sat on the top step and opened his phone, flipping through the gallery of photos he took of the renovation, finished seven months before. In many ways it was a record of the second part of his and Andrea's relationship. The job became a labour of love as he steered the renovation alongside her, making sure she was involved in all the aspects of doing it right, the first time.

Everything new had to be done to last a lifetime, and everything old that he kept from the original had to be restored to the highest quality. When the project was finished, and they took the walkthrough together before moving her furniture back, she turned to him.

"You are moving in with me, right?" she asked. "This is all so beautiful, that you must have done some of it for yourself."

"It was all for you, but I am moving in with you," he replied. "My apartment was what I thought Dot wanted, and I stayed there because it cost a lot. It was more of a home with you and Lily there but this is the home I want to live the rest of my life in."

He placed his hand casually in his pocket, feeling the edge of the ring box, then drew it out, when her back was turned as she opened the butler's pantry door and went inside. When she came out, he was down on one knee, with the box opened towards her, and she gasped in surprise.

"Will you marry me? Will you stand with this former criminal and keep me on the good path that I've tried to stay on since I met you? Will you let me be Lily's father in name and not just practice?"

"Yes, yes, and yes," she replied without hesitation. "I'll marry you. The path is wide enough that you'll never fall off, not with me at your side. As for Lily, Brock has given up his rights to her. He never wanted her, except for the money she would bring him."

As he slid the vintage engagement ring onto her ring finger, he gazed at her face, then stood up. When she looked up at him, he saw only love, something he never saw with Dot. That was the night they made love for the first time, a perfect melding of hearts, souls, and flesh that made his dick thicken as he thought of it. Even though they picked up their relationship from where they left off, he didn't push Andrea into anything she wasn't ready for. Some of their make out sessions became steamy but, in his heart, Bucky knew they would be together in every way when the time was right. Waiting just made their first time incredibly special.

The selfie of them in the kitchen with her showing off her engagement ring was the last of the renovation pictures. Sighing as he closed the gallery Bucky thought of when he sold his apartment condo, paid his mother back for the renovations and invested the rest, including starting up a college fund for Lily. In the seven months they had shared the brownstone he lived as he always wanted, without worry and fear of the law coming after him, with someone he loved more than anything.

Standing up, he entered the code on the door panel, closing and locking the door behind him. Slipping his shoes off, he hung up his jacket in the closet and made his way up to the second floor. Checking in on Lily first, he grinned at how she was sprawled out in her "big girl" bed. At 19 months she was walking and talking, and still just as friendly to almost everyone she met. The guys at the warehouse loved seeing her whenever Andrea stopped by. It was hilarious watching a bunch of grown men trying to entertain her by making goofy faces and sounds to get her attention. She had her favourites; Clint, the father of three who was now their foreman, and Scott, who was in a serious relationship with Hope. He knew magic and could make Lily laugh and clap her hands at his simple tricks. Surprisingly, at least to Bucky, she liked Luis, who was teaching her Spanish, even bringing some Spanish language children's books to the warehouse to read to her whenever she climbed up on his lap. Of course, she had soft spots for her godfathers Sammy and Steeby. Every time they were over at the house, she went from one to the other, scamming them out of candy or money. His mother's love for the little girl was as strong as if she had been related by blood. Nana always got hugs and kisses, giving them back in turn. If only Andrea's parents saw her more, it would be perfect. Although they had finally met there was still an element of disapproval from her mother, over their daughter being a single mother, living with a man who was not the father of her child, even though the biological father was an absolute bastard. On the other hand, her father had tried since that meeting to stay in touch with Andrea, often coming over and doting on Lily.

Moving towards his daughter, Bucky gently tugged the blanket over her, then put a stuffed animal under her arm. Kneeling down, he kissed her on the head and whispered his usual saying to her.

"Sleep tight, little star. In the morning, I'll catch you in my hand and make a wish to love you forever and always."

Getting up from his knees, he stood at the doorway again, basking in the love he felt for this toddler. From there he quietly entered the bedroom and stepped into the ensuite bathroom to remove his clothes and brush his teeth. He always kept a pair of sweatpants on a hook and put them on, then slipped under the bed covers, spooning behind Andrea. She made the sweetest sound when he draped his arm over her waist.

"I thought you were staying at Steve's?"

"I only had a few beers, so I came home. Besides, he snores when he's had too much."

She rolled over, kissed him sweetly on the mouth, then snuggled into his chest.

"I'm glad you're home. It was hard to get to sleep without you. Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah, it was good to see everyone outside of work. Thor and Peter Quill were there as well." He kissed the top of her head. "In a week we'll be married."

He could feel her smile forming on his chest, then she looked up at him again.

"Are we going to announce the baby?"

"I think we should wait. You're only six weeks along. Although they'll probably figure it out when you don't drink any alcohol."

"Probably," she yawned. "Natasha thinks Steve might be proposing to her. She said he's been acting quite mysterious lately. Did he say anything to you?"

He couldn't help but smile. If he lied, Andrea would know it. If he didn't lie and she told Natasha, Steve wouldn't be happy with him.

"It was brought up, but he won't say when it's going to happen. You're not going to tell her, are you?"

She didn't answer but by her regular breathing he could tell she was asleep. He didn't even get a chance to tell her about the charges being dropped. That could wait until the morning. He kissed her head again and closed his eyes, feeling like he was the luckiest man in the world.

💍 💐

One week later

Having his head down between his knees wasn't helping Bucky breathe, even as his mother rubbed his back soothingly. Sam and Steve stood there, wringing their hands, hoping that their friend wasn't about to pass out just 10 minutes before his wedding. Winnifred looked up at the two of them.

"Get him some water," she said. "Send Dr. Banner in."

"Yeah, good idea," said Steve, relieved at the suggestion. "Sam, you get the doctor, and I'll get the doctor." Sam looked at him, then slapped him lightly upside the back of his head. "What the hell?"

"We can't both get the doctor," replied the other man.

"Boys, focus," said Winnifred. "Sam, you get the water. Steve, you get the doctor. Go."

She shook her head. For 34-year-old men, they still had their dumbass moments where they acted 14.

"I don't know why I'm like this," gasped Bucky. "I want to get married. I love Andrea and want to be with her. I feel almost like I did whenever I saw blood. Ma, why is this happening now?"

How he got that torrent of words out when he could barely breathe made no sense to Winnifred, but she wasn't about to call her son out on it. He always had been a sensitive soul, and she was sure this had something to do with it. Bruce Banner arrived first, accompanied by Steve.

"What's the problem?" he asked.

"He feels like he's going to faint," said Winnifred. "Said it's like whenever he saw blood before."

"Bucky, do you feel like you're going to vomit?" asked Banner.

"Yes ... no, I don't know. I just don't feel right, like I'm going to pass out at any moment."

"Hey, look at me." Bucky raised his head. "Tell me three things that you see."

"Um, the chair ... the mirror ... um, um, the carpet."

"Good," smiled Bruce. "Now, three sounds. What can you hear, right now?"

Bucky breathed in heavily. "My breath. The sound of music outside." He focused more on Dr. Banner. "A siren, far away."

"Excellent. Just breathe, steady in for five then out for five. Now I want you to move three body parts. Can you do that?"

"Yeah."

He sat up and moved his head from side to side. Then he clenched and unclenched his fists. Finally, he stuck his feet out in front of him, then brought them back to their original position. Sam appeared with the water.

"I had to wait for the bartender to show up ... oh, you look better."

He gave the water to Bucky, who nodded his head and sipped it, then took a longer drink. He kept breathing in and out, following Dr. Banner's example. The older man patted him on the shoulder.

"Feel better, now?"

"Yeah, I do. Thanks."

"No problem. It was just a little bit of anxiety you were feeling. If it happens again try the 3-3-3. Three things you can see, three things you can hear and move three body parts. It redirects your brain to stop the anxiety. Works every time." The doctor stood up. "Just give him a couple of minutes. Winnie, are you walking him down the aisle?"

"I am now," she said.

"Just support him. He'll be fine once he gets to the front. I have to say this is a nice place for a wedding. Very picturesque."

He left and Winnifred kept rubbing Bucky's back. Finally, he nodded and stood up.

"Okay, let's get married."

The wedding planner arrived to tell them it was time. Together, they walked to where the outdoor ceremony was set up in the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. Sam and Steve walked towards the officiant first, positioning themselves at the front, then Bucky walked out with his mother, stopping at the first row of chairs to kiss her on the cheek, before he joined his friends. Then Natasha and Maria appeared, with Lily in front of them, her tiny hands holding a basket of flower petals. As When You Wish Upon a Star played, the little girl, wearing a lacy pink dress, scattered her petals, stopping to put some in people's hands along the way. Bucky felt his heart in his throat, as his lips trembled, seeing his daughter taking her roll so seriously. Then she saw him.

"Dada," she cried, dropping the basket, and running to him, making everyone swoon at the sight, as he picked her up and kissed her.

"You stay with me, and we'll watch Mama together, okay?"

She nodded then pointed to where Andrea waited while the music to A Groovy Kind of Love started. He laughed at first, then began to cry at how beautiful she looked. She stood alone at the other end, then she looked to one side and was joined by her father. Kissing her on the cheek, he walked her down the aisle, a big grin on his face. There were more kisses when she arrived to where Bucky stood, from her dad to her and Lily, then a handshake to the groom.

For such a memorable moment in his life, Bucky could never remember much of the ceremony itself. He remembered how Andrea looked while they gazed at each other as if they were the sun, moon, and stars personified. He remembered saying "I do" and putting the wedding band on her finger but everything else was a blur until they kissed. Lily had already wiggled out of his arms to go to his mother, making everyone laugh. When he was told he could kiss the bride he placed his hands on Andrea's cheeks, then kissed her softly and sweetly, wanting it to last forever.

More flower petals were tossed at them as they walked down the aisle and led everyone to the pool beside the Palm House, set up for cocktails. They left briefly for photographs amongst the flowers blooming nearby. When the late afternoon turned into the evening, and the light became more golden as sunset approached, the Palm House was opened for the reception. The glass walled structure, filled with more colourful flowers, and festooned in fairy lights, seemed magical in appearance. Lily was entranced by it and clapped her hands in pure joy.

The first dance for the couple was to You Make Me Feel Brand New, the third song they ever danced to when Andrea had to nudge Bucky into finally kissing her. Everyone who had been there from the start of Bucky and Andrea's relationship, watched with soft smiles on their faces at the tenderness between the couple. That song was the one most suited for the wedding dance, although the other two songs made it to the set list. It wasn't all 70s and 80s music, as they made sure there was something for everyone, including some sultry Spanish style songs that brought out Steve and Natasha, in a repeat of the first time they danced.

If anyone noticed that Andrea wasn't drinking, they didn't say anything, although Winnifred and several others suspected that Lily would have a sibling early in the new year. The toddler held out for a long time, dancing with her parents and with anyone she asked. No one turned her down. When she finally conked out, a bed of sorts was made for her using a cushioned bench and Steve's borrowed jacket as a blanket. She slept there, oblivious to everything around her, until her parents made their goodbyes, and Winnifred lifted the little girl up in her arms, carrying her out to the limousine that took them home to her apartment.

The party went on for some time. Steve, after a quite energetic dance with Natasha, suggested they go out to the pool to cool off. They sat on a bench on the far side of the pool, overlooking the dark water, which reflected the lights coming from the Palm House.

"What a great wedding," she smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "This was such a beautiful place to have it."

"It was," he agreed, looking up at the night sky. "We could have a great wedding here."

"You have to ask me first," chuckled Natasha.

He looked at her. "I'm asking."

It took her a moment to respond then she lifted her head up to look at him, aware that she could hear her heart beating loudly in her ears.

"What are you asking?"

"If you'll marry me. I think we could have something amazing together."

It was what he said to her the night of their first date.

"Yeah?" She swallowed. "Maybe, but there are complications."

He tilted his head slightly, smiling at that answer. "You already married?" She shook her head. "Engaged?"

"I could be, to the right guy."

"Natasha, I'm the right guy for you. I knew it from the first moment I saw you standing inside our office. I wanted you then and I want you for the rest of our lives." Gently, he traced her jaw with his fingertips. "Say yes to being amazing together. Say yes to the guy who loves you for the incredible woman you are."

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Now shut up and kiss me."

Pulling her onto his lap, he kissed her fiercely, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go. Reaching into his pocket, he brought out the ring box and opened it. Natasha almost stopped breathing at the size of the diamond. She knew business was good, but this....

"It's not hot, is it?"

"Baby, I'm a legitimate businessman now. This didn't fall off a truck. Legally bought and paid for."

She admired it on her hand, then they stayed out there for some time, kissing and enjoying each other's company. When Sam appeared across the pool to say they had to close things up, he grinned at them, knowing that he would be repeating his own version of a proposal soon.

🌃 🌌

In the hotel room, Bucky, and Andrea, were catching their breath, laying on top of the rumpled duvet with their legs intertwined and her head on his chest. Their wedding clothes, strewn everywhere, weren't a priority, until his phone signalled a text message. Climbing off the bed, Bucky picked up his jacket, searching for the phone but it wasn't in any of the pockets. My pants, the phone must be in my pants. Where are they?

Andrea watched with amusement as he looked for his pants, then she got up and lifted her dress up from the floor, pulling his pants out from underneath it and reaching inside one the pockets to retrieve his phone, placing it in his hand. He grinned, kissed her, then opened the message, which he showed to Andrea.

Steve: She said yes.

"What should I say?" he asked.

"Congratulations, now go celebrate," suggested Andrea. "Then come back to bed and put it on silent."

He sent the message, put the phone on silent and tossed it onto a chair. Climbing back on the bed, he hovered over his wife, then stopped. His wife ... this woman was his wife and in the new year, she would be the mother of his child. How did he get so lucky?

"You okay?" she asked. "You were somewhere else for a moment."

"I was right here, thinking of how lucky I am that I have you in my life. You changed me, changed everything for the better when you walked past Barnes Contracting."

She shook her head, caressing her face.

"All I did was take Lily for a walk. Grandma said it was important to know the neighbourhood and your neighbours." She shrugged. "I just figured it would be good to know who had businesses in the neighbourhood as well. She was a teacher and knew lots of people."

"What was your grandma's name?"

"Lily Dugan," she answered. "She was a widow. My grandpa, her husband, died when I was little. She always said there was no better man than him. That's how I feel about you."

Bucky felt a lump in his throat. Dugan was the name of his dad's friend, who worked with him at Barnes Contracting. He remembered him, a big burly man with a large moustache and genial attitude who always made him laugh, even after the incident. Then suddenly, he wasn't around anymore, and his parents were sad for some time. Was it a coincidence or fate that brought Andrea past the very building her grandfather had worked at? It didn't matter, not in the long run. Placing one hand on Andrea's, he moved it so he could kiss her palm, then laid with his head on her chest as she ran her hand through his hair. He was right where he wanted to be; in the arms of the woman he loved, the woman he would always say made him a better man.

THE END

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