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For anyone that is body shaming Sebastian Stan, you are not welcome here.

Born In Flames || Chapter One

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Being the daughter of a mafia boss was hard enough growing up. You got out and made a new life for yourself as a bartender only to be sucked in when your old man made a bad deal and he thinks you need protection. Enter Bucky Barnes, your new bodyguard and roommate.

Warnings: Some mafia business talk but that’s about it for now

Word Count: 2,646

Authors Note: Finally decided to start on this bad boy! And yes, Duff’s is a real rock bar in Brooklyn! I did some research on places and now I really want to visit it! Also the title comes from one of my favorite bands, In This Moment! Enjoy! If you would like to be added to the tag list, send me a message/ask. I prefer you not to write it in the comments on this post. Thank you.

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We need to talk, come to the office tonight at 5.

You stared at the text message sent from your father, scoffing at the idea of him needing to talk to you. It had been months since you saw him face to face, and that was only because you went to your aunt’s funeral. The two of you spoke minimally, not seeing a reason to give updates on life.

Your father, Michael, had spent his life growing up in the mafia world. His father before him ran Brooklyn and handed it off to his son when his body started to slow down. You were born into the life, but there was a difference. You didn’t like it. Every time you wanted to go out, you had to have an escort. One of his men would follow you around, whether it was the mall or just sitting outside in the car at a friend's home. It was a pain in your ass but you learned how to hide from them. Escape through windows, duck through a group of people, shut off your phone so the tracker they had in it stopped working. You became your fathers biggest problem for a while.

When your mother died, it devastated you. You were only 19 and she was the one person in the world who would let you rant about your father. You couldn’t exactly tell your friends what Michael did for a living. Your mother tried to talk some sense into him but it never worked. You left home after her funeral and didn’t look back. Michael would try to message you from time to time, wanting to form some sort of relationship. You didn’t care though. He took enough of your life away growing up and now you finally had freedom.

You lived in an apartment in lower Brooklyn, just a two bedroom place that overlooked a park. You made amazing money at your job, working as a bartender at a rock bar named Duff’s. Music, beer, and metalheads willing to throw bills your way for another shot. How could you want anything else? You had been there for about eight years now and it kept the lights on at home.

You have 30 minutes to talk to me. I’m not going to be late for my shift because of you.

You sent the text back and rolled over in bed, curling up around one of your pillows. Duff’s was only open from 6pm to 4am so you were certainly a night owl. Why did he want to talk anyways? Had he not gotten the hint that you wanted to avoid him for the rest of your life? The only thing that kept you connected to your old life was your name, that was it. Checking the time on your phone, it was only noon. Grumbling, you knew sleep wouldn’t come back now that you were thinking about what Michael needed to see you for. Pushing the covers back, you decided to go about your day as usual. Shower, breakfast on the fire escape as you watched the people in the park, and a quick little conversation with your neighbor.

Miss Liz was a little old lady who seemed to come from her hippie days. She told you all about Woodstock and her crazy stories of the antics she got into. If you didn’t know it, you would have thought she came straight out of Dazed And Confused. There were days she would set a Tupperware container of goodies out for you if she wasn’t going to be home to talk with you. In return, you got her the best weed and left it in the container by her windowsill.

Things had been going great. The only thing you could really complain about were the neighbors to the other side, who seemed to be having nightly arguments. Little did the wife know, the husband was cheating on her during the day. Sometimes you wanted to intervene, but you decided it wasn’t your place.

You cleaned up the apartment, making sure the dishes were done and the guest room you had turned into a little hobby room was organized. A day bed sat inside while your computer setup was on the other side, along with a shelf unit with art supplies. You had a tendency to move back and forth between it all, depending on your mood.

By four pm, you decided to get ready for work. It took about twenty minutes to get to your fathers office and then from his office to your job, about fifteen. You didn’t want to change clothes and you didn’t honestly care what Michael would say about your attire. Growing up, he always wanted you to be a part of his business, but you couldn’t find it in you to be one of his minions.

Putting your hair up in a curled ponytail, you slid on a cropped tee with Duff’s written across the front. You decided on jean shorts with black fishnets since it was on the warmer side today and pairing it with your favorite boots. It fit the aesthetic of the bar you worked at which often had metal bands playing and visiting. Grabbing your bag and making sure you had everything, you sighed and tried to remain calm on the drive to the office you grew up around.

Pulling up outside, you gazed up at the building. A bubble of anxiety started in your chest and it grew when you stepped out and walked in. You flipped off the front desk as they asked for your name and you walked to the elevators, pressing the button to go up. It took a moment while you avoided the security guard, but all you said was that your father needed to speak with you. That seemed to shut him up. You got into the elevator and went up to the top floor where his office always sat. You got odd looks from people as you walked through, keeping your head high and your walking pace fast. Checking your phone, you saw it was 5:01. Perfect.

You didn’t care to knock as you swung the door open. Your father sat at his desk, in the middle of a conversation with a man who sat in a chair on the opposite side. The man had his back to you as Michael stood and gave you a glare.

“I see you still don’t knock. What are you wearing?” He asked, crossing his arms over his grey suit.

“I have to work. Now what did you want besides critiquing my clothing?” You raised an eyebrow, hands resting on your hips.

“Right. Work. Must be some job…” he mumbled with an eye roll. “Seems I have an enemy who knows just where that bar is. Duff’s, right?” He asked, though he didn’t give you a moment to respond as he pulled out surveillance photos and laid them out on his desk. “I was sent these this morning. Someone has been watching you and I feel like they’re going to try to use you as a way to get me to give in on this deal,” he stood back.

You frowned and walked over, ignoring the man sitting in the seat beside you as you leaned over the desk and looked at the photos. They had all been taken over the last week. Going to work, leaving work, your car, even your morning routine of talking to Miss Liz on the fire escape. You leaned up and looked over at Michael.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I haven’t spend a day in your world for almost a decade and now I’m the one being watched? Great, Mike, just fucking great. So let me guess, you made a bad deal again and I have to go into hiding again. The only difference is that mom isn’t here to actually give a shit about making sure I’m happy through it all!” You yelled, not caring who heard you outside of the office. “I should have known something was up when you wanted me to come here. You screwed up my childhood and now you’re trying to screw up the freedom I made for myself.”

“Enough, Y/N!” Michael spat, raising his voice as you took a step back. “What I do with my business is none of your concern and no, I’m not putting you into hiding. Meet Bucky,” he said, motioning to the man sitting in the chair. You looked down and met his eyes for a brief second before looking back at your dad. “He’s going to be your bodyguard until this blows over.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “That’s cute. A bodyguard, really? What, he stays with me at work and sits outside my apartment? Hope you like the fire escape buddy,” you said sarcastically.

“Actually, no. Bucky will be moving in with you. I believe your apartment has two bedrooms, yes? And you live alone?” He asked, looking over a paper that you assumed had everything about your apartment building. You knew he had his ways, you just hated that he did it. Using them for his enemies was one thing. On you? That pissed you off.

“So he’s gonna live with me? How is that fair? And how long do you think this will be before it blows over? I remember being stuck at the lake house for seven months before I was able to see my friends again and I was twelve. I’m not gonna quit my job because you suck at being a mafia boss,” you crossed your arms. If Michael could blow steam from his ears, he would.

“You can whine all you want. Wherever you go, he goes. Work, home, the store, anywhere. Don’t expect this to be fixed anytime soon because I have been dealing with this guy for years and he is one of the most ruthless in the business. I trust Bucky to watch over you. He’s been on my team for a long time now and he will make sure you stay safe,” Michael explained, taking a seat in his large brown leather chair.

You stared at you father for a few moments, wanting to sock him straight in the nose for swooping in and fucking up your life again. But you knew he probably had another plan if you didn’t take the first. Perhaps posting other guards up around your job and work, having someone secretly following you around. He wasn’t above doing any of that.

“Fix your fucking mess so I can get back to never having to see your face again,” you said, turning and walking towards the door. As you pulled the handle, you glanced back to see Bucky still seated. “Let’s go, guard dog,” you spat before walking out.

Michael sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you this wouldn’t be easy.”

“I can handle a little whining. I’ll update you at the end of every day,” Bucky nodded and stood, collecting his duffel bag that had his personal belongings that he would be taking to your place.

Michael gave a slight wave towards the door, knowing you were halfway to the elevator by now. Bucky walked out and shut the door behind him, putting on an emotionless expression as he hurried his steps to catch up with you.

The two of you rode down in silence, and it continued on the way to the car. Once inside, you noticed the bag he tossed in the back seat and rolled your eyes.

“Do not touch my shit in the spare room. I’ll clear out space in the closet but no touching my art stuff or the computer. I’m assuming he told you I work nights? Hope you enjoy metal music and loud people,” you said as you pulled out of the parking spot and drove off.

Bucky gave a slight nod to acknowledge what you said, but he didn’t feel the need to say anything. He was only meant to watch over you, not make friends. You couldn’t take his silence so you turned the radio up, fighting against the traffic to make it to the bar. You were opening up tonight and you weren’t sure how your boss would take to having a guy sitting there, watching you the whole time. But Duff was a cool guy, so you knew he would probably just offer to get Bucky drunk.

Pulling up in the back, you sifted through your keys as Bucky looked at the building. How could you give up the life of being a mafia princess for something like this? He wasn’t sure he would be able to ever understand it. Stepping out, he followed you inside after you unlocked the door.

Leading him into the main part, you pointed to a table in the back. “Better post up there for the night,” you sighed before starting the opening motions. Lights, glasses, music, checking stock, wiping everything down, filling the ice bin, getting the register ready.

Bucky watched you, his arms crossed as he leaned back in the chair. You were a spitfire, someone who probably could take care of herself in a fight. He heard the stories Michael told him about you and how you were as a child. Leaving the mafia business was bound to happen. But unlike those other guards you grew up with, Bucky wasn’t going to easily let you slip through his fingers.

Work had gone pretty simple that night, the usuals coming in and requesting songs as well as shots to get fucked up. Since it was the middle of the week, it wasn’t as crowded as the weekends. Bucky kept an eye on you, to the point of a few patrons mentioning that a “creepy man in a suit staring at you”. You brushed it off and said it was an old friend waiting for you to get off work. They didn’t mention it again after you offered them a drink.

It was hard to work with eyes on you. It was one thing when someone was trying to wave you down from the end of the bar, but something entirely different when some guy your father paid just stared. If it was any other situation, you would have found him quite handsome. The cropped hair, blue eyes, strong jaw, beefy build, it looked good. Or maybe you had been touch deprived for too long. Dating was never your thing and one night stands seemed boring. You tried it a couple times but the men didn’t even know where to find your clit, let alone how to make you cum. Your vibrator was your best friend and now it seemed like you may have to use it in secret. The thought made you roll your eyes.

By the end of the shift, your feet ached and your back was screaming. One of the other bartenders called in sick so you worked double time to get the drinks out. You had worked the last five days in a row and thankfully tomorrow was your day off, though it was silly to think you could do anything now without the guard dog on your ass. You shoved the tips in your bag and clicked off all the lights after locking the front door, ready to get into bed.

“Let’s go,” you said to Bucky, the first words you had spoken to him throughout the whole shift.

Bucky stood and followed you out, noticing the slight limp now that the adrenaline of the shift was gone. “Want me to drive?” He asked as you two made it to the car.

“Nope, don’t want anything from you,” you muttered, sliding into the driver's seat.

Bucky gritted his teeth and got in.

Babysitting you was going to be harder than he thought.

~~~

Tag list: @borikenlove @bitchassbucky @babyboibucky @buckybarneschokeme @buckys-blue-eyes @vanillanaps @bibbidibobbidibucky @spicynudlesoup @bemine-bucky @suchababie

Born In Flames || Chapter Two

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Being the daughter of a mafia boss was hard enough growing up. You got out and made a new life for yourself as a bartender only to be sucked in when your old man made a bad deal and he thinks you need protection. Enter Bucky Barnes, your new bodyguard and roommate.

Warnings: guns, shooting, mention of cancer and weed

Word Count: 3,212

Authors Note: And here we see that I have no concept of keeping things nice and easy for a longer than a chapter. Also again, I will say that if you want to be a part of the tag list, either MESSAGE or SEND AN ASK. It’s too hard sometimes to keep up with the notes on things so if you want to secure a spot, do one of those two otherwise you will not be added.

Born In Flames Masterlist

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You knew the moment you got home from work that it was going to be a long….well however long you were stuck with this guy.

Both you and Bucky got up to your apartment and he was quick to lock the door and check outside.

“You can’t spend your mornings on the fire escape anymore,” Bucky spoke as he closed the window and switched the latched to close.

You, already irritated from the whole situation while being tired from work, rolled your eyes and peeled off your boots. “And why is that?”

“Because they sent photos of you sitting out there. Easy shot if they wanted to take one,” Bucky said, crossing his arms as he looked over at you.

“Like I care if I’m shot at. Maybe a dead daughter will teach my dad that his work isn’t the best. You know what?” You turned to him as you threw your hands in the air. “You’re only here because my dad says you have to be. Now I just worked a long ass shift and all I want is a hot bubble bath, my bed, and some fucking wine. Not some guard dog telling me what I can and can’t do. My mornings with Miss Liz are not going to be interrupted because you say so. Now I suggest you listen or else this is going to be a lot harder for you,” you explained, clearly exhausted.

But the look in Bucky’s eye made you want to cower. He let out a deep breath through his nose, looking as though he was trying to restrain himself. “I’m not a guard dog,” he glared.

Then again, you were too tired to care about being scared. “Whatever. I call it how I see it. Now I’m going to go do my thing. Watch tv or go to sleep or whatever it is you do,” you shrugged, leaving him standing in your living room as you went into the bathroom and shut the door.

You stayed in the bath a bit longer than usual, your phone softly playing music as your mind raced with the future and the past.

“But why do we have to leave? I was supposed to go to Marcie’s later for a sleepover!” You whined as your mom packed up a suitcase for you. You were only nine at the time, completely unaware of what your father did for a living. You thought he was just some business man. He was, but in more darker trades.

“I know, pumpkin, but what if I promise that Marcie can come over and stay a whole weekend when we get back? We’ll be at the lake house for a week, that’s all. You know, it’s firefly season. Go get your mason jar and net and we’ll see how many we can catch,” your mother, Charlotte, said. It made her heart ache to see you so disappointed. She had hoped that your life would be somewhat normal but unfortunately being around the mafia would leave your life anything but normal. She tried to make sure you got to do kid things.

Charlotte did, but your father was nowhere to be found. He was always working, always trying to fight some silent war going on. It wasn’t until your early teens that you found out what your father did for a living. You blamed him for everything wrong in your life. How you couldn’t keep friends because he was constantly pulling you away or forcing you into hiding out in the house, how you didn’t get to go to prom or homecoming because you would be an “easy target”.

Somehow you even blamed him for your mother’s death, despite it being cancer. You just felt the need to blame him for every bad thing because it always led back to him. That instance, you could agree that you were being irrational. But the one person who always gave a damn about you was now gone.

A few tears fell from your eyes as you tried to picture her in the good ways. Planting flowers in the backyard of your childhood home, teaching you how to bake cookies from scratch, even helping you sew your first dress that you made by hand. Her smile could light up a room and even with your father’s idiotic ways, she still found the good in him. The good you had yet to see. Sure, he was trying to protect you, but you knew it was for his own benefit, not yours. Frankly you weren’t afraid to die. You realized that as a teen. If you were shot in the middle of some mafia war, then so be it. Maybe then your father would see that his work was more harmful than good.

Wiping your face off with your already damp hand, you sighed. Now you had a bodyguard staying with you, one who seemed like he was at your fathers beck and call. Were you supposed to feed him and keep him entertained? He said he wasn’t a guard dog but right now it felt like you had a damn Cane Corso staying in your apartment. The look he gave you earlier was nothing short of a warning but you weren’t scared.

Also you noticed he had gloves on. It’s the summer, why would a guy wear gloves? Was it so his fingerprint wasn’t pushed around everywhere? But you’ve seen other men work for your father and watch over both you and your mother and they never once wore gloves unless it was winter. It didn’t make sense.

After an hour in the tub and at least one refill of hot water, you got out and wrapped a towel around your body. Collecting your clothes, you left the bathroom and turned towards your room. On the way by the guest room, you heard soft murmurs.

“Yeah…this isn’t gonna be easy, she’s already on my last nerve…I know, sir. I promise she’ll be safe…didn’t see anything today….” Of course he was updating your dad.

Rolling your eyes, you walked into your room and closed the door before locking it. After you dried off, you pulled on a large tee and some pajama shorts. Your stomach growled, realizing that you hadn’t eaten at all since this morning. Glancing at the clock, it was nearly six am. You could wait a while longer, you just didn’t want to see Bucky again. Thankfully a bag of chips and the bottle of wine was still sitting on your nightstand from the night before. It may be warm, but you couldn’t care less.

You dozed off at some point, the bag of chips left on one side of the bed as you curled around a pillow on the other side. You had the day off and you slept in until damn near three pm.

Waking up was easy enough, ready to see if Miss Liz left you cookies. She always knew the days off meant you wouldn’t be out in the mornings. Well, morning for you. So she always left goodies. But then you saw the empty bottle of wine and remembered why you were drinking in the first place.

Sighing, you knew you needed coffee, which meant leaving your room. How were you going to be able to coexist with this guy? His face was the last thing you wanted to see right now. But, nothing was going to stand in your way of your coffee.

Sliding out of bed and running your hands through your messy hair, you slowly walked out. The television was on, a rerun of Criminal Minds playing. You glanced over and saw Bucky on the couch, turning his head to gaze at you.

“Sleep okay?” He asked, though you just ignored him and walked into the kitchen.

Bucky furrowed his brow. He was trying to play nice but you weren’t making it easy.

Apparently Bucky already had coffee, considering there was a hot half a pot left. Grumbling to yourself, you poured some into your mug and walked over to the window. Pushing it open while silently daring Bucky to tell you off, you slipped outside and took a seat on the little pillow you kept out there. Glancing to your right, you saw the little Tupperware and a note.

Hey babe, these are just regular cookies today, kinda smoked all the weed instead. Hope you have a good day! -L

Man, you loved this lady. Popping the top open, you took a cookie and dipped it in your coffee before eating it. Soft chocolate chip with a hint of butterscotch. You are about two more before looking down at them. Four remained, making you sigh. You really had to make this living situation at least a tad lighter.

Taking the plastic bowl, you reached out through the open window without looking back. Rustling the bowl to get Bucky’s attention, you heard the tv mute and boots for the ground.

“What are these?” Bucky asked as he leaned into the open window. Setting the bowl down in front of him, you took another sip of your coffee as you stared out towards the park.

“Cookies, do they not have them where you’re from?” You asked, raising your eyebrow as you looked over at him.

“Yeah but what’s in them?” He asked, of course he has to be the cautious one.

“Stuff you make cookies with. They’re not drugged this time,” you shrugged, leaning back against the brick wall.

“This time?” Bucky widened his eyes. You reached over and grabbed the note, setting it in front of him. He read it over and rolled his eyes. “Pot cookies? Jesus. Get inside, someone could be watching you.”

You glared at him as you stayed in your seat. “Yes, pot cookies. And no, I’m gonna stay out here a little longer.”

Bucky grumbled incoherently and pulled away from the window. Setting the cookies on the counter, he walked over to his coat and pulled out his gun. Sliding it behind him in the waistband of his pants, he returned to the window and climbed out.

“What the hell?” You asked, scooting over to avoid being crushed by his big ass.

“You won’t come inside so I have to come outside,” Bucky said, taking a seat next to you.

You glared at him, knowing he was doing his job but you were entirely annoyed. “Why are you doing this? Why did he pick you and why did you agree?” You asked after a moment of silence while he got situated.

Bucky sighed and crossed his arms, leaning back against the brick. “He chose me because Charlotte hand picked me.”

You lost your breath for a moment, not expecting to hear your mothers name from him. What did he mean that she hand picked him?

Bucky saw your confusion and continued. “I was new to the mafia business. My friend Steve had worked with your dad for a few years and they brought me in. I had just been brought home to Brooklyn after an incident overseas when I was in the army. I was discharged and after a while, I was able to get back on my feet. I started out as just a guard, making sure no one came into your fathers building without us knowing who they were. Charlotte took a liking to me after I helped her a few times with bringing things in and out. We talked for a while and I’m not sure why, but she wanted to make sure I made it in this business. She talked to your dad and he agreed to give me a chance at being more than just a guard. You were a…junior, at the time I think. Your mom loved talking about you, telling me how well your art was doing, how you didn’t want to be a part of this life. She worried about you. And then when she found out she had cancer-“

“Stop.”

Bucky’s words were left hanging in the air as you raised your finger. You couldn’t listen any more, not while you were struggling to not cry. You already did enough of that the night before and you still had a headache from it.

“Just…don’t,” you said, your voice softer than before.

The two of you stayed quiet as you sipped on your coffee, your emotions calming down as the moments passed.

After about ten minutes, you got up and stepped over Bucky before slipping inside. The coffee was gone and your heart ached. Leaving the mug in the sink, you sighed when you heard Bucky step in and the window close.

“Listen, we just…gotta make this work, okay? So you can go back to doing whatever it is you do and I can go back to not being a mafia daughter,” you said as you turned, leaning against the counter.

It caught Bucky off guard but he looked over and nodded. Now that you knew he was doing this because he felt like he had to help since he owed your mom where he was today, you knew she would be disappointed in how you were treating him.

“So I’m assuming my dad gave you money for food and stuff while you’re here?” You asked, to which he nodded. Since Bucky was going to be watching you, your dad gave him a very, very good raise. “Well, I need to go shopping today. I guess you’re coming with. But please, lose the suit jacket. It’s gonna look pretty suspicious when I’m dressed in a tank too and leggings while you look like you’re ready for an important business meeting. Plus, aren’t you hot with those gloves?” You asked, motioning your head towards his hands.

Bucky frowned softly, rubbing the back of his neck with a shake of his head. “Gloves stay, but I can change.”

You raised an eyebrow but shrugged. Walking to your room, you closed the door behind you and decided to keep it simple. Just as you said, a black pair of leggings paired with a dark red tank. Oh how you missed the fall. You threw your hair up in a bun and grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. Bucky was done before you and you saw how he changed into a pair of jeans and a blue long sleeved Henley. Why did he want to wear long sleeves so bad?

Without questioning him, you grabbed your keys and the two of you headed out.

Shopping was…simple enough. From the things Bucky chose, it was clear he was probably into cooking. By the way your side of the cart looked, it showed that you didn’t cook much at all. At least you had all of the pans and such for him to use. They were all still pretty brand new.

You felt Bucky move closer to your side as you two walked, though you tried to move away. His arm slipped around your waist and that’s when you stopped completely. “What are you-“

His hand gripped your waist, as if to stop you from speaking. “I think we’re being followed. Just walk normally and don’t say anything,” he whispered, slowly taking steps forward and pushing you along with him. You went to look around but he cleared his throat a little before shaking his head. “Don’t.”

You walked alongside him, trying to act normal as if you were just grocery shopping with a boyfriend. Granted, that had never been a thing you’ve actually done. “Is there anything else you need?” You asked, though it had seemed like you two were pretty much done.

Bucky shook his head and the two of you walked to the front near the registers. He put everything on the conveyor belt, including yours to which you were going to stop him but the moment you made a sound, he narrowed his eyes. You chewed the inside of your cheek as he paid for it all, knowing you would pay him back. After everything was bagged, the two of you walked out while his arm moved around your waist again. Sure enough, he spotted the same people he saw before. The two of you put the bags in the car and although you never wanted to be that person, he suggested you leave the cart in the middle of the parking space beside you and drove off.

“Don’t go home,” he said as he pulled the gun out from the back of his pants.

“Why not?” You asked, taking a left turn instead of a right like you normally would have.

“Do you want to lead them to your house?” Bucky looked at you as if you were that dumb.

“They already know where I live. Where should I go?” You sighed.

“Anywhere but home. Just drive around. Go to Jersey for all I care,” he shrugged, turning in his seat and looking out the back window.

You decided to do just that, head towards Jersey. But about twenty miles down the road, a car appeared and Bucky saw that it was the same men from the store. They were coming up quickly and without care, the passenger leaned out and shot at your car. A scream left your lips as the bullet went straight through the windows, swerving slightly.

“Fuck!” You yelled, pushing harder on the gas. Bucky slid into the back seat and proceeded to kick the entirety of your back window out. From there, he had a perfect shot at the men. It was a fire fight back and forth, while you stayed ducked down as much as possible while still being able to see the road. Your poor car was going to be fucked after this.

Bucky got a few good shots in, even managing to knock the gun out of the man's hand and into the oncoming traffic. He could see that he got the man somewhere from the line of blood down the side of the car. The two men decided to retreat and took a side road, heading back to their own base.

You drove for a while before pulling into a parking garage, hiding at a far end. You were somewhere in Manhattan, though you had no clue where. Once you shut the car off, you slowly began to rise up from your crouched position. Bucky shifted and leaned in between the seats, looking you over.

“Were you hit?” He asked, though he didn’t notice any blood. You shook your head, even as your hands shook. You may have had close calls in life with the mafia business, but this took the cake.

The way you looked at Bucky showed your fear. You may not be afraid to die, but then again, you never came that close. In some way, you were hoping that when you did die, it would be quick and painless. Not a car chase with the possibility of being hit.

“My car…” you muttered, your mind buzzing.

“Will be fixed. Are you okay?” He asked, taking your chin with his gloved hand and making you look at him. You hesitated for a moment, though you nodded.

“Get over. I’m driving,” he spoke, letting go of your chin.

This time, you let him.

@crownstealer @borikenlove @bitchassbucky @babyboibucky @buckybarneschokeme @buckys-blue-eyes @vanillanaps @bibbidibobbidibucky @spicynudlesoup @bemine-bucky @suchababie @kbkbb

Born In Flames || Chapter Three

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Being the daughter of a mafia boss was hard enough growing up. You got out and made a new life for yourself as a bartender only to be sucked in when your old man made a bad deal and he thinks you need protection. Enter Bucky Barnes, your new bodyguard and roommate.

Warnings: Blood, mentions of guns, nightmare

Word Count: 2,526

Authors Note: This one is a little shorter but very progressive! I’m going to say this once more only. If you want to be on the tag list, send me a message or an ask. Otherwise it’s probably going to be ignored because I cannot keep up with notes sometimes.

Born In Flames Masterlist

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The drive home was quiet, aside from your quick breaths. You were curled up in the passenger seat, though you were slumped down a bit with tremors running through your nerves. Sure, you had close calls, but never that close.

Bucky drove both of you home, taking different roads just to make sure the two of you weren’t being followed. He kept glancing over to you every few minutes, quietly reminding you to breathe in deep and try to relax. You tried, you really tried. Little bits of glass from the windshield were beneath you and it was increasingly uncomfortable. Your car looked terrible. Bullet holes riddled the back and hit quite a bit in the trunk.

Once Bucky pulled up to your apartment, he got out as you slowly opened the door. There was slight ringing in your ears leftover from the guns. Walking to the back, Bucky opened the trunk and sighed. A bullet hit the milk, causing it to explode over everything.

“Head inside, I’ll bring these,” he said as you started to grab a few bags.

“Let me help,” your voice was barely a whisper, but he nodded gently. He didn’t want to fight with you. Sliding the rest of the bags onto his left arm with ease, he shut the trunk. Following you up, you made it to your door and unlocked it. Home.

Stepping into the kitchen, you set the bags down and brushed your hair behind your ear to get started putting everything away.

“Ow,” you gasped, pulling your hand away to find a bit of blood. “What the…”

Bucky set his bags down and furrowed his brow. Walking over, he took your chin gently and turned your head. A small stream of blood had begun from the top of your ear and down your neck. Because you were so lost in your thoughts and the wind from the open windows whipping your hair around, you didn’t feel the liquid. Not to mention the adrenaline being so high.

“C’mon,” Bucky said as he took your hand, leading you to the bathroom. Closing the lid to the toilet, he had you take a seat. “Any chance you can tie your hair back? Looks like you got nicked,” he said, handing you a hair tie he found while he searched your cabinet.

You took it and gently put your hair up. “There’s some gauze in the bottom shelf…and some neosporin,” you muttered. So you had been shot. It was small but the fear made it all too real now. You were being targeted and if Bucky hadn’t of been there, you would probably be dead.

Grabbing a washcloth and rinsing it in cold water, he sat down on the edge of the bathtub beside you. Gently he turned your head so he could see it better.

“I’m going to be as gentle as I can, okay?” He spoke, meeting your eyes. You glanced down to the washcloth in his hand, noticing the gloves were still on.

“You’re gonna ruin those,” you mumbled, looking back to him.

Bucky hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out if he should. Shaking his head, he leaned forward. “Just stay still.”

With the gloves on, Bucky started to clean out the wound. Just two inches over and your head would have been a blended shake on the steering wheel. Sure you were lucky, but would you really call this luck? He was gentle, but that didn’t stop the sting as he tried to clean the dried blood away. He even wiped it off from your neck, though there was no saving the collar of your tee.

Setting the washcloth down, he pulled off his right glove, the left hand holding the ointment. He dabbed a little bit on it, thankful the bullet only skimmed the outside. You would have a little scar but nothing too damaging. After, he was able to wrap a smaller bandaid over the shell of your ear to keep hair from getting inside.

You stayed quiet, though your facial reactions showed how much it did hurt. You’d much rather get new piercings five times over before ever doing that again.

Once he was done, Bucky checked your other ear and let his eyes gaze over your body. “Does anything else hurt?” He asked, pulling his hand away from your chin.

You shook your head. “I’m just…I’m okay,” you spoke, your hands fidgeting with each other. “Do you think this is how it’s going to be now? I have to watch over my shoulder everywhere I go? They know where I live. They know where I work. I don’t want to be shot at again,” you said, not able to hide the fear in your tone.

Bucky sighed. “That’s what I’m here for. That’s why I’m a guard dog,” he said, somewhat teasing about the name she gave him. “As long as I’m watching over you, they won’t be able to get close. I’ve been doing this for quite a while, even before I was brought into the mafia. It won’t always be this scary,” he tried to convince you, but it wasn’t that easy. You leaned forward and hid your face in your hands as Bucky frowned. “Listen, go lay down and try to relax. I’ll put everything away, okay?”

You nodded from behind your eyes. Bucky took it as a sign to leave and give you some space. Discarding the trash and tossing the washcloth in the hamper, he walked out and closed the door behind him.

It wasn’t two seconds later that he heard soft sobs. It broke Bucky’s heart. This wasn’t the life your mother wanted for you.

An hour later, after cleaning up and changing your clothes in your room, you emerged and walked out to the couch. Bucky sat in the chair, looking at his phone. You had heard him on a call about twenty minutes ago. Taking a seat, you curled up against the arm and wrapped the blanket around your legs. Your hair was pulled up higher into a bun and you looked comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you could be after a day like that.

“When do you work next?” Bucky asked as he broke the silence. You looked away from the television, away from Gordon Ramsey yelling at some cooks.

“Tomorrow night. I only get one day off a week,” you said softly. He could see how red your eyes were, a dead giveaway to your crying, but he didn’t say anything about it. “I would call in but we’re already understaffed as is,” you added. Work was going to be a lot harder knowing that people weren’t just outside taking surveillance photos anymore.

Bucky nodded quietly and looked back to the tv.

The rest of the night was fairly quiet, though you went back to your room and slept. The adrenaline wore off and your body decided to give in to the tired the shooting left you in. It had been a long, long time since you experienced any excitement like that.

You had one nightmare, one very scary nightmare involving the men who followed you in the store. Only Bucky wasn’t there with you. Running and running, the sound of bullets whizzing past your ears getting closer and closer. You woke up with heavy breaths and tears as the last bullet was hit in the back of your head.

Sleeping wasn’t an option now, you came to realize that. Laying back down in bed to catch your breath, you stared at the ceiling and wiped the tears from your eyes. Everytime you closed them, you saw the faces of the men, the glass on your seat, the guns.

Giving up, you left your room in just a pair of pajama shorts and a tee. It was about five am, a time you usually found yourself going to bed at. Perhaps you’d be able to get a quick nap in before work, but it was a long shot.

Leaving your room, you walked out to find Bucky standing shirtless in the kitchen, right in front of the coffee maker. He was pouring himself a cup but that’s not what held your attention.

Bucky’s left arm was black and gold, taking over the majority of his shoulder. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the kitchen bulb that needed to be replaced, but it looked as if there were scratches where the metal met the skin. He had a pair of dog tags around his neck, remnants of what he used to be.

Bucky turned around and nearly dropped his cup as he saw you. “Oh. Shit. Hey,” he muttered, running the back of his neck with his right hand. “I didn’t think you’d be up this early,” he said. Then he followed your eye line to his arm and he sighed. Setting the mug down, he started to walk towards you to get to his room.

“Wait,” you spoke, gently holding a hand up. “It’s okay. I just…I’ve never seen something like that. Is that…why you had to leave the army?” You asked, though you weren’t sure if it was okay to even mention it.

Bucky stopped in his tracks and sighed. Nodding, he held his palm up and made a fist before letting it loose. “I was trying to save one of my men and a bomb went off too close. He made it out but my arm didn’t,” he muttered. “I don’t show it because I know it makes people uncomfortable. Prosthetics always do. When I sleep, it’s the only time I can be free from those damn gloves and long sleeves.”

You stepped closer, though you didn’t touch. “I’m pretty sure you’re past prosthetics. This is basically a robot attached to you. It’s so advanced. How did you find something like this?” You asked, seeing how the plates shifted slightly as the arm moved.

“Your father has a few friends. It’s linked to my nerves and bones. I even get phantom itches in it,” Bucky watched your face, ready for any sign of disgust. He had been wearing long sleeves and gloves for years now, only ever taking them off when he had to torture someone for his boss. But he saw no disgust, only intrigue. “You can…touch it, if you want.”

You bit your lip and glanced up to his eyes for a second before looking back down. Softly your fingers came up and brushed along the forearm, tracing the gold lining in the middle of the black plates. They slid up to his hand, gently bending his fingers towards his palm before letting them free. Your other hand rested beneath it to hold it up.

“This is…really, really cool, Bucky,” you spoke, flipping his hand over to see the other side. “You shouldn’t hide it. It’s not something to be ashamed of, you know. But…” you let his hand down and looked up to him. “If it helps, you don’t have to hide it in here, okay? If you want to wear the gloves and long sleeves out there, then that’s okay. But I won’t judge it,” you gave him a soft nod.

Bucky stood there for a few seconds before giving a slight nod. He really didn’t expect anyone to think it was cool. He did at first, until he noticed others staring. And in a job like his, he couldn’t afford to stand out.

You walked around him and headed towards the coffee, really needing it now. Bucky turned and watched you walk, amazed by your open mindedness. Two days ago you didn’t want him around and now you were fine with him showing the most hated piece of himself.

You were really something else.

“So…why are you up so early?” Bucky cleared his throat and walked back over to grab his coffee that was starting to cool.

You frowned, though your back was to him, as you poured yourself a cup. “Just…sore. My ear was in pain,” you lied. It was only partially a lie. It ached, but so did your chest from crying and the stress.

“So it has nothing to do with the crying I heard twenty minutes ago?” He raised an eyebrow.

Your shoulders dropped and a sigh left your lips. “I…had a nightmare. Those guys kept shooting and it kept getting closer. Now I can’t even enjoy my favorite pastime of sleeping in,” you groaned as you took a sip of coffee and turned around. “If you heard me crying, why didn’t you come in?”

Bucky leaned against the counter and watched you. “The same reason I didn’t go back into the bathroom after I bandaged you up and heard you crying. Felt you didn’t want me around as a reminder and that you needed space. Plus if you were in real danger, I’m sure you would scream first,” he shrugged.

You leaned back against the counter and huffed. “I’m just…not used to this. The shooting and the near death experiences,” you stared at the coffee in your hands. “It’s not you, it’s the life. The mafia. I always felt different growing up because I always had to be watched. My mom knew I hated it. My dad didn’t care. I lost friends because of this. I can’t go hang out or have sleepovers. Birthday parties were just for my immediate family. Hell, I’m still mad he didn’t take me to Disneyland like he said he would when I was eleven,” you muttered which made Bucky smile slightly.

“You can still go, you know,” Bucky took a sip and you rolled your eyes.

“It’s no fun alone and I don’t think Miss Liz is up for it,” you shrugged. It was apparent you didn’t have friends outside of work.

Bucky was quiet for a few minutes, the only sound being the rain droplets hitting the window. As if your car didn’t deal with enough, now your seats would be soaked.

“After all of this is over, why don’t I take you to Disneyland?” Bucky asked, making you pause as you brought the cup to your lips.

“What?”

“You heard me. Why don’t I go with you? After all, I’m considering us friends since no one else has taken so kindly to my arm,” Bucky tilted his head.

You rolled your eyes, but the sincere look on his face told you he wasn’t joking. “Yeah…sure. But I’m not holding my breath. There is no after this is over in the mafia. There’s brief periods of quiet but it always gets bad again,” you frowned, finishing off your coffee.

Bucky knew you were right, but he had a bit of a plan. At least to make sure you had the chance to find your after in the mafia life.

“Fair enough,” Bucky nodded as you set your cup in the sink.

“I’m gonna try to go lay down again. If um…if you hear me crying again, just come wake me up, please,” you said softly, the end sounding like a whispered plea to save you from what may come from your mind.

“Okay,” Bucky gave another nod and watched as you walked back to bed.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep again.

Tag list: @crownstealer @borikenlove @bitchassbucky @babyboibucky @buckybarneschokeme @buckys-blue-eyes @vanillanaps @bibbidibobbidibucky @spicynudlesoup @bemine-bucky @suchababie @rebekahdawkins @sebsbrokentoe @marvel-3407 @acmbooksandfilm @stucky-my-ship @boofy1998 @kaaabiii

Born In Flames || Chapter Four

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Being the daughter of a mafia boss was hard enough growing up. You got out and made a new life for yourself as a bartender only to be sucked in when your old man made a bad deal and he thinks you need protection. Enter Bucky Barnes, your new bodyguard and roommate.

Warnings: minor character death, mentions of guns, human trafficking, drugs, and blood.

Word Count: 2,653

Authors Notes: Kinda curious to see what you guys think of this one! If you want to be tagged, send a message or ask or else it will probably be ignored.

Born In Flames Masterlist

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A week had gone by since that fateful shooting. Every little sound had started to rattle you when you were at home. Work was the only place you were distracted enough, but it did take a couple of days. You had given Bucky a couple of long sleeved tees that had the bar’s logo on them and told him to change, considering he was the only one in the bar looking less like a drinker and more like a mobster. Your boss came to understand why he was there and allowed it, even throwing some food his way while Bucky waited for your shift to end.

The morning after the shooting, you found your car missing. You were just about to head back inside and cry into your pillow before Bucky grabbed your hand and led you to a sleek black car. He reassured you that your car was being taken care of and that this one would get the two of you around. You took his word for it, even letting him drive.

The relationship between you two was slowly leaving the side of hatred and more of just convenience. Bucky was pretty understanding about you wanting to keep up with talking to Miss Liz, but he kept a close eye. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn Liz was trying to flirt with him. It was cute, actually. You often found yourself out in the living room earlier than usual, due to the nightmares. Bucky would check in and softly push you awake, but would leave once you were awake. He knew what it was like to have nightmares every night. It wasn’t just about being in combat or losing his arm. Being in the mafia had its disadvantages, one being that he saw the face of his victims every time he closed his eyes. His were less screaming and crying and more sweating and mumbling.

He had decided to wear tees around the apartment, trying to show that he was making a step to be more comfortable around you. You didn’t hide that you hated the suit and ties, but you also didn’t force him to show the arm. He did that on his own.

Currently the two of you were sitting in the living room. Bucky was looking over the cameras through his phone that were placed around the street by some of your fathers men while you worked on your laptop. It was another day off and you were a bit too scared to try going out and shopping again, so you had things delivered instead.

Bucky’s phone started to go off and he answered it. “Boss.”

Oh great, it’s dad.

He was quiet for a moment, though you couldn’t quite make out what was being said on the other side. He glanced over to you and said a soft “we’ll be there” before hanging up.

“We?” You leaned up in your seat, setting the laptop down.

“Looks like they may have caught those men who shot at us,” Bucky stood and slid the phone in his pocket. “He wants us to go to the warehouse so you can identify them. Guess the guy is saying it wasn’t him,” he muttered and rolled his eyes.

You brought your hand up to your ear, fingers brushing over the scabbed over wound. It wasn’t as painful anymore. But then it hit you, the warehouse.

“Are you serious? I’ve never been allowed in there. I don’t even think my mom was,” you frowned, looking over at him.

Bucky shrugged. “That’s what he said. I don’t think he’ll have you stay for the aftermath. We just need to make sure it was really him. You did get a good look, right?”

You nodded gently, unable to forget the faces of the men. “They only got one?”

“For now,” Bucky walked past you and headed into his room to change.

It seemed you probably should do the same.

You went simple, just a pair of black jeans and a tank. Much different than the outfit you last saw your father in. You pulled your hair up into a ponytail just in case another shootout happened. Hair flying in your face was not so fun last time.

Bucky could feel the anxiety radiating off you the whole drive. He let you pick the music and watched as you slid down lower in your seat. Had one near death experience really caused you to be this scared? You kept asking yourself that.

The anxiety didn’t go away as Bucky pulled up to the warehouse half an hour later. It was in an industrial area, one with quite a few abandoned buildings. This one you knew was used for…less than savory things. A lot of blood had been spilt inside. You remember seeing someone hobbling out with his face beaten in when you were about ten. That was the first time you knew something was up.

“You ready?” Bucky asked softly, worried about your state of mind as you stared at the building in front of you.

“Do I have a choice?” You retorted, though you sighed. “Sorry I just…yeah. I’m ready,” you muttered and got out of the car.

Bucky led you inside and immediately the smell of iron hit you. Years of blood without being properly sanitized. No wonder you were never allowed in it. You stayed close to Bucky, your hand brushing along his gloved one. He didn’t mind, as long as you were able to help now.

Pushing a door open, you froze when you saw the scene before you.

Your father sat in one chair, looking as much of a mafia boss as ever. About ten feet from him sat a man tied to a chair, head lulled to the side. One of the men standing had his jacket off and sleeved rolled up, blood trickling down his knuckles from punching the other guy.

“Ah, good. You’re here. Dear, can you tell me if this was the guy?” Your father asked.

Frowning, you slowly walked in and kept your distance from the man bleeding in the chair. He coughed before leaning his head up and that’s when you sighed.

“Yeah, it’s him. He was with another guy. Bald, bigger nose, sort of looked like a taller Danny Devito,” you spoke, crossing your arms.

Bucky left your side and walked beside the bleeding man in the chair. Squatting down for a moment, he moved the guys tied up hands before standing.

“It’s him. I got a good shot on his hand and that’s what made them retreat I think,” Bucky walked back over to stand by your side. “Pierce’s guy?”

Your father nodded, his own arms crossed as he stayed in the chair. “Believe so. Just need to figure out why they’re targeting you unless it’s just to get to me,” he looked over at you and you rolled your eyes slightly but said nothing.

“I won’t tell you shit,” the bloodied man finally spoke, groaning when another punch was landed. “You should kill me now, but there will be more. There will always be more. We’ll get that little whore just like we did her mother,” he yelped when a second punch was thrown.

Your eyes widened, though you knew it couldn’t have been true. It was cancer. You knew it was. You saw how sick she had gotten in the end. Looking back to your father, Michael nodded at the man and immediately a gun was pulled out and he shot the man point blank.

You yelped and turned away, covering your mouth.

Now you wished you had never stepped foot in the warehouse. Bucky groaned and wrapped an arm around you, leading you out. He wanted to yell at Michael, to tell him that he had just traumatized you once again, but he couldn’t exactly fight his boss. So he decided to move you away instead. You let him lead you out to the car, but once you were inside, the flood gates opened and Bucky was left with a terrified version of you that he only saw briefly before.

Getting in the driver's seat, he waited to turn the car on. “I wish he hadn’t done that,” he whispered, glancing over to you.

You wiped at your eyes, trying to catch your breath. “This is…why I wanted out. Couldn’t he have waited until I was gone!?” You gasped, but it wasn’t working.

Bucky frowned and leaned over the console of the car. He took your face in his hands, being gentle but also demanding. “Look at me. Hey, right here,” he pointed at his own eyes, waiting until you met them. He kept the hold on your face as he spoke. “It was better him than you. It’s going to be okay. It’s…not easy to see whether it’s the first one or the hundredth. I know this because I still see them all. Just…try to breathe,” he spoke. He took deep breaths as you followed, doing it until your tears had stopped and you were able to stop shaking.

“What did he mean…about my mom?” You muttered, watching as Bucky’s hands left your face.

“I don’t know. I swear I don’t,” he shook his head, equally as confused as you were. He didn’t know what it meant and he needed to find out.

“Promise me, you’ll tell me if you find something out?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.

Bucky took your hand and squeezed it softly. “I promise.”

Three hours later, Bucky found you sitting in the living room on the floor with a bunch of photo albums beside you.

Birthdays, vacations, school photos. Scrapbooks both you and your mother had made over the years. Scrapbooks that seemed to mainly include you and her, with rare appearances from your father.

Bucky took a seat beside you with a raised eyebrow. “What’s this?” He asked, leaning to the side a little.

“My second birthday. Complete with a Little Mermaid cake. Of course dad isn’t in these either,” you muttered, scooting closer for him to see.

Photos of you smashing a little cake with your face, white icing and chocolate cake smushed in every crevice. You looked happy, carefree, ready to take on the cake and the world.

“I take it your dad wasn’t around for big things?” Bucky asked, surprised a father wouldn’t even be there for his kid’s birthday.

“Not often. Sometimes. He came to my graduation and some early birthday parties but that’s about it. Hell, I couldn’t even get him to a choir show when I was in middle school. Mom was my biggest supporter,” you ran your fingers over a photo of your icing handprint on her cheek, smiling at the camera. “She made sure everything was okay.”

Bucky smiled but then furrowed his brow. “Can I?” He asked, holding his hand out.

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded and handed him the scrapbook.

“You said your second birthday? Do you have any from your first?” He asked, making you wonder.

“No, I’m not sure why but I don’t have any from then. I have a couple baby pictures but not many actually. Why?” You asked, tilting your head.

Ever so carefully, Bucky pulled one photo out of the slot and looked at it closer. “Do you know this man?” He asked, pointing to a guy in the background.

“No, not that I can remember,” you shrugged.

Bucky pulled out another, pointing to him again. This time his arms were around your mother.

You took the photo and tilted your head. How did you not see that before? You were in the forefront, face clean and opening a gift. In the back, you mom looked to be cuddling with another guy.

“Yeah, I have no clue who that is,” you handed it back.

“That would be the boss of the man that was just killed holding your mom like they were together.”

Your eyes stared at Bucky for a few moments before you were able to find words.

“I’m sorry, what?” You took the photo back and looked it over again.

“Alexander Pierce. He’s another mafia boss that had his hands dipped in a little of everything. Guns, drugs, even illegal animal trading. Pretty sure he’s been involved in human trafficking too but we haven’t been able to find enough evidence. What I want to know is why your mom was cozying up to this guy,” Bucky explained. Setting the photo to the side, he began to look through the rest of the photos.

You sat quiet beside him. Your parents didn’t have a pristine relationship by any means but you could never remember a time where they broke up. And your mom was never the type to cheat no matter how bad things got. She was loyal and kind.

You leaned against Bucky’s arm as he looked, trying to piece things together in your mind. You heard Alexander’s name over the years but it was more about business. Your father having a meeting with him or the two of them making a deal. You weren’t exactly invited into the meetings themselves, nor do you ever remember meeting the guy in person.

Bucky tried to find more photos of him but it seemed those were the only two. Closing the book, he looked down at you with a soft sigh. “Can I do some digging? This is bugging me and I feel like you should know why,” he offered.

You hesitated. Did you want to know? Not exactly, not if it involved a man who did all of those terrible things, but you did want to know why the man talked about killing you like they did your mom.

“You can use my computer in your room, if you want. These are all of the scrapbooks I have though,” you moved the other five in front of him.

Bucky nodded and got up, helping you to your feet. “Do you want to stick around and help?”

You knew it wasn’t a good idea but it was better than sitting in front of the television, failing to distract yourself.

“C’mon,” you muttered, picking up the scrapbooks and following him into the room.

Bucky hadn’t done much with it. He hung up his more important suits while the rest of his items sat neatly in his bag. The dirty clothes were in a hamper you gave him to use. He really didn’t make a dent in showing he was there. Bucky took a seat in the chair as you sat cross legged on his bed.

“Do you have any theories?” You asked as you opened up another book, though this time you paid more attention to the details in the back.

“Not quite. Unless they caused your mother to get sick, but I still need to figure out why. Even if Pierce and Michael had a fallout of some kind, there would be no reason to hurt her and then wait all this time for you. It’s not as if you’ve made yourself completely invisible with the bartending and social media profiles. They obviously knew you were here if they sent him those photos. Keep looking through those for anything, even if you think it’s nothing.”

And that’s how the two of you were for the majority of the night. Bucky had his ways of scouring the Internet, but things kept popping up empty. You had shown him multiple photos but nothing ever clicked for him.

It was about 10:45pm when Bucky leaned back and frowned. “What was your mother’s maiden name again?”

“Hartley,” you looked up at him, having taken his pillows and put them beside you while you leaned back against the wall.

Bucky pushed the chair away from the computer.

A photo of a young Charlotte and Alexander sat on the screen.

A marriage announcement from two years before you were born.

Tag list: @crownstealer @borikenlove @bitchassbucky @babyboibucky @buckybarneschokeme @buckys-blue-eyes @vanillanaps @bibbidibobbidibucky @spicynudlesoup @bemine-bucky @suchababie @kaaabiii @rebekahdawkins @sebsbrokentoe @marvel-3407 @acmbooksandfilm @stucky-my-ship @boofy1998 @valsworldofcreativity @yaszx

Born In Flames || Chapter Five

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Being the daughter of a mafia boss was hard enough growing up. You got out and made a new life for yourself as a bartender only to be sucked in when your old man made a bad deal and he thinks you need protection. Enter Bucky Barnes, your new bodyguard and roommate.

Warnings: Guns, blood, nightmares

Word Count: 3,105

Authors Note: It’s been fun watching everyone freak out about the last chapter! Good luck with this one. If you want to be on the tag list, send me a message or an ask, otherwise it will be ignored.

Born In Flames Masterlist

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You stared at the screen for what felt like hours but it was mere minutes.

A newspaper article stated that Charlotte and Alexander were high school sweethearts, having known each other since middle school. They wed in the fall and planned on moving out of the state. That didn’t seem to happen. They were in their late twenties when they got married.

So was that a lie, or was your life a lie?

“Maybe it didn’t work out between them? And she met my dad and they stayed friends?” You tried to reason, to find any sensible explanation for what you were finding out.

“C’mon, Y/N. Look at that photo from your birthday. Would exes really be that cuddly together if one was married to someone else? And I’m pretty sure Michael would never allow that. I’ve heard stories over the years of things he’s done. People have died for a lot less than cuddling his wife. By any chance…have you ever done a dna test with your parents?” Bucky dropped the question and you rolled your eyes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re not seriously suggesting that man is my father. We look nothing alike. Granted I don’t look like Michael either but I’ve always been told I look like my mom. And you expect me to think the man who supposedly killed my mom is related to us? Or to me at least? I’m not believing a word until I talk to my dad,” you shook your head, sitting up from the wall and looking over at Bucky.

“Would you believe anything that comes from him?” Bucky asked, resting his arm on the desk.

Bucky had a point. Over the years, you’ve learned not to trust what your father said. He made excuses and lies plenty of times. How he would be home for dinner, he would come to your birthday party, the lake house, even something as simple as reading you bedtime stories when you were little. Every time you started to believe him, he would disappoint you.

Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair and glanced at the screen again. “Print it out. Looks like we have to go see dear old dad tomorrow before work,” you huffed. You felt lost and alone. Charlotte was gone and you couldn’t ask her the truth. She never lied to you, but she never mentioned being married before Michael either.

Collecting the scrapbooks off of Bucky’s bed, he began printing out the page and watched you. “It’s gonna be okay, you know,” he spoke softly, seeing how frustrated you were.

You looked over as you held the books to your chest. “I wish I could believe that,” you sighed before leaving his room.

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. Thankfully when you ordered groceries, you managed to remember some sleeping pills on the list. It wasn’t much, just a couple to help you get at least a couple hours. And you did. Of course the nightmare decided to change from the men shooting at you to replaying the memory of seeing the man being shot over and over again. By your hand at that. You weren’t a killer. You begged Michael not to make you pull the trigger. Bucky was nowhere to be found.

Bucky woke you up that morning after hearing your cries again. You shot up, tears streaming down your face as you clung to his arm. It was a first. Usually you woke up and told him to go back to sleep. You never touched him, but today you needed a little bit of comfort and he didn’t put you away. Instead, he pulled your back to his side, the arm you clung to holding you close, his free hand brushing your hair back.

“Shh, you’re awake now,” he whispered, feeling how you shook under his hold. His fingers softly caressed your stomach and you could feel the heat radiating off of his bare chest. He knew you needed this too and frankly he was tired of hearing your cries. You deserved a better life.

He held you until you slowly let go of his arm and moved back to your spot on the bed, facing him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“Hey, it’s okay. If you need a hug to calm down, I can do that,” Bucky nodded, reaching out to wipe your leftover tears away.

“How do you handle all of the death?” You asked, reaching up and taking his hand, cupping it between both of yours.

Bucky thought for a minute, frowning. “I saw too much of it over the years. Being in combat sort of threw me into it without a crash course. I…do still have nightmares. Every night. Sometimes I’m still out in the field with my men, sometimes it’s things I’ve done while working for Michael. I just have to remember that I’m still alive for a reason. And right now, my reason to make sure you stay alive,” he explained, feeling your fingers brush soft lines on his palm.

“But what about after this is over? Whether all of the deals are done or I get killed like my mom? What’s your reason then?” You asked.

Bucky had to think for a moment. “Then I live for me I guess. I never really thought about what the reason was, only that there must be one.”

You nodded softly, looking down at his hand. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Hey, get dressed. Neither of us ate last night and I’m starving. I want to take you to a place I like before we do what we have to,” he suggested, though he was fully ready for you to protest food.

You knew food wouldn’t be easy to hold down, but it also wasn’t a good idea to go on an empty stomach. Especially since you worked later.

“Okay,” you nodded.

Bucky gave your hand one last squeeze and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

On the other side of that door, Bucky hated the smile he got while thinking of you. A bratty mafia princess and now…he found himself wanting to make sure she was happy no matter what the circumstance.

Dammit. He had to reel those feelings back in quickly. You were his job. His boss's daughter.

The two of you got ready and within an hour, you found yourself in a little cafe. A little hole in the wall place that seemed to rely on regulars to keep it going. Bucky chose a booth in the back, making sure he could see the whole place in case something were to happen.

“How did you manage to find this place?” You asked, taking a sip of the coffee you ordered. The food was already cooking, pancakes for you both as well as extra bacon.

“I used to come here a lot growing up. There used to be tons of people who visited. Now it’s competing with the big chain restaurants. They won’t let it go until it can’t run anymore, so that’s what I really like about it,” Bucky leaned back in his seat. He wore his usual jeans, blue Henley, and a jacket with gloves. You had a change of work clothes in the car, only opting to wear a red tee and some black jeans out.

“If things start to settle…we should come back here,” you suggested, surprising him. Were you really trying to ask him to be friends outside of the job?

“I’d like that,” Bucky smiled just as the food came out.

“Oh thank god. Smells delicious as always, Pam,” he chuckled as the waitress put the plates down in front of both of you.

“Thank you,” you looked up at her while also trying to burn the sound of Bucky’s laugh into your brain.

Wait, were you falling for the man? Wanting to hear his laugh more? Jesus, something was wrong with you. You wanted out of the mafia life and here you were, finding the guard dog that you were saddled with extremely attractive when he wasn’t annoyed.

The two of you ate in silence more or less. You had been more hungry than you thought by the way you scarfed down the pancakes. Both you and Bucky shared the plate of bacon, though you didn’t want to admit you ate a couple more pieces than him.

When the food was gone and you were back in the car, you knew what you had to do next.

“We don’t have to go today, you know,” Bucky said as he glanced over while at a stop light.

“I know. I just…if I don’t do it now, I’m gonna think about it until we do and it’s going to fuck with me. I already feel nauseous. I need to know, Bucky,” you spoke, looking from the window to him.

Bucky nodded gently and turned the radio up, already having realized music had a tendency to calm you a little.

Not long after, you found yourself in the elevator with Bucky, heading up to your fathers floor. You didn’t get as many weird looks this time, only because you weren’t in obnoxiously short shorts. Those were in the car.

You told his Secretary that you were there to see him and that it was urgent. Of course he thought it had to do with being followed, so he excused the meeting from his office. The men walked out before you and Bucky walked in.

You wasted no time putting the piece of paper along with the baby photo of you on his desk in front of him. “What is this and when were you going to tell me mom was married before? To the asshole trying to have me killed?” Your voice raised slightly.

Michael picked up the photo of you and looked in the background, closing his eyes for a moment to steady him.

“Never. You’re my daughter, I raised you. He was nothing, terrible to Charlotte,” Michael spoke.

You glared at him, moving to sit on one of the chairs while Bucky sat beside you. “So I’m not even related to you?”

Michael sighed. “Not by blood, no.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, leaning forward.

“We had no intention of telling you. Look, your mother and Alexander…they were kids in love. But then he got into the mafia business and things went south with them. He became vile. Her and I had met over the years because of meetings and galas, so I offered everything to stay at my home when she couldn’t take his antics. She had you before then. You were almost three when the two of you came to live with me and…we fell in love,” Michael spoke, a look in his eye and a tone in his voice that showed that he did indeed miss her.

“Why did that man say that they killed mom?” You asked, sitting more on the edge of your seat now.

Michael got up from his chair and walked over to the window, looking out at the busy street. “Because they did. There was a rat in the midst of my group. Sitwell. He had been tasked to watch over your mom since you were at school. He…poisoned her. Small doses of thallium,” he crossed his arms as you furrowed your brow, about to open your mouth to ask what it was but Bucky spoke before you could.

“Rat poison.”

Your eyes grew and your hands gripped together. “So what, he killed mom because she left him and he’s trying to kill me too?” You asked. You remembered Jasper but you never spent time around him. You were a teenager and a bratty one at that. Everytime he offered to make you food or something to drink, you rolled your eyes and made your own food. Now you know why he was so pushy.

Michael nodded and moved away from the window. “That’s one reason I decided after she passed that you should have your freedom. You weren’t directly involved with me nor any of the mafia business you’ve hated for so long. It gave you time to have a life. I hoped they wouldn’t be able to find you, but they did. To be fair, you lived a better life here than you would have with him,” he tilted his head.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned back in your chair. “This is just great. Well at least I’m not related to you. Makes sense on why you were never there for me growing up. Mom deserved better though. Just…” getting up from your chair, you were ready to pull your hair out. “Do something about Pierce. I don’t want to lose my life because of choices others have made for me. Afterwards, I don’t want to be a part of this. I’m changing my name and moving far away from anyone who could track me back to this shit. And to think, I was hoping you were doing this because you cared about me. No, I’m basically a pawn in this. One wants me alive and another wants me dead. I should have let Sitwell poison me,” you ranted, angering Michael farther.

“Y/N!” He yelled, making your footfalls pause. “I do care about you. You’ve been like a daughter to me and that’s why I’ve been doing this. Making those deals with Pierce. It kept him at bay, or so I thought. Your mother knew you were supposed to have a life and right now I’m trying to make that happen for you. Hell, I’ll give you the money to move but what I need from you right now is to stop acting like a child. I put you in Bucky’s care for a reason and so far he’s proving more than capable. If all of this ends and you want to tell us to fuck off and not see us again, then by all means. But until then, you need to stay quiet and safe,” Michael leaned against his desk, glaring at you.

“Bucky,” you glanced to him. “Let’s go. I have a job to get to.” Leaving the photo and the printed out wedding announcement, you stepped out of Michael’s office. Bucky gave Michael a tight nod before following you out.

All of the anger that had come to a head slowly started to dissipate. You knew he was right. He did what he needed to keep you safe, but it felt like your whole life had been a lie. While you were falling apart on the inside, Bucky stayed quiet and walked you to the car. He didn’t particularly like the idea of you running off and leaving the city, let alone the state. Of course it was your choice but he hated the feelings in his chest, telling him to be there for you as more than just a guard dog.

Work was somewhat easy that night. It was an early weekday which meant it was just the regular drunks. Bucky sat at his designated table while you and Courtney worked the bar. When you had a minute, you would refill Bucky’s drink and make sure he was okay.

“I’m more worried about you,” Bucky whispered as you say a basket of fries down in front of him.

“I’ll be fine. Just got a couple more hours and then we can go,” you spoke softly, patting his shoulder.

Those couple hours passed by quicker than you expected, and you were on your way home.

“You know, after this is done…keep my number, okay? If I gotta fly out to help you with something, I will,” Bucky said, breaking the silence as you straightened out the tips you made.

Looking over with a furrowed brow, you set the money in your purse. “You don’t have to. I know you’re only doing this because of da…Michael,” you corrected yourself. You had no dad.

“At first, yeah. But would a guard dog really go so far as scouring the Internet for information about your mom? I don’t think so. Or let you cuddle their arm when you wake from a nightmare?” Bucky gave you a look as if to say he wasn’t just a bodyguard, he was a friend.

“Yeah, I guess. Let’s just see what happens, okay?” You asked, but you really should have chosen a better set of words.

And a better stoplight to catch a red at.

Immediately gunshots rang out and broke the windows. You screamed, sliding down in your seat. Bucky started to drive away but when he started to swerve, you looked over to see blood gushing from his chest.

“No, no, no!” You yelled. Hiking your leg over the console, you hit the gas and grabbed the wheel. “Siri, call Michael!” You managed to slide your phone out from your pocket and put it on speaker.

At four am, the streets were somewhat bare so it was easier to speed away.

“Hello?” Michael’s tired voice spoke from the other end.

“Bucky’s been hit! Just got off work and people started shooting. I’m driving us away but he’s passed out,” you spoke, giving him the next street you drove down until more shots rattled off. You hit the gas and pushed the car to top speeds trying to take roads to Michael’s house. He always had some men there.

“Y/N,” Bucky gasped, his speech slurring slightly.

“Stay awake, Buck. Please,” you begged, setting your phone down onto the dashboard. With one hand you drove, the other you pushed on Bucky’s wound to keep pressure on it, and you still had one leg in the footwell of the passenger side. Talk about multitasking.

One of Bucky’s hands rested on your back, trying hard to keep himself awake. He heard tires screeching and that’s when three of Michael’s cars passed you and started shooting the men who started the gunfire.

Slowing down, you pulled over as Michael left one of the cars that stuck with you.

Sliding into the passenger seat, the driver's door was pulled open.

Getting out, an ambulance that no doubt Michael had on his payroll rolled up and quickly they got Bucky in. You started to jump in the back but Michael protested.

“He’s no good to you right now,” he said, tugging on your hand.

Pulling away from him, you stared him down. “He’s the only understanding one right now and I’m not going to let him die,” you yelled before jumping in the back of the ambulance.

You really, really hoped he didn’t die.

Tag list: @crownstealer @borikenlove @bitchassbucky @babyboibucky @buckybarneschokeme @buckys-blue-eyes @vanillanaps @bibbidibobbidibucky @spicynudlesoup @bemine-bucky @suchababie @kaaabiii @rebekahdawkins @sebsbrokentoe @marvel-3407 @acmbooksandfilm @stucky-my-ship @boofy1998 @valsworldofcreativity @yaszx @21st-century-daydreamer

Born In Flames || Chapter Six

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Being the daughter of a mafia boss was hard enough growing up. You got out and made a new life for yourself as a bartender only to be sucked in when your old man made a bad deal and he thinks you need protection. Enter Bucky Barnes, your new bodyguard and roommate.

Warnings: Blood, broken nose, kidnapping, guns

Word Count: 3,011

Authors Note: Three chapters so close together? Whaaaat? Have fun, babes. If you want to be included in the tag list, send a message or ask otherwise it will be ignored.

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You knew what sitting in the hospital alone meant.

It meant you were vulnerable.

It meant Pierce’s men could find and take you.

But you couldn’t just leave Bucky to wake up alone.

The bullet thankfully didn’t cause any organ failure, but he did have surgery to get the piece of metal out from his chest. All while you sat in the waiting room, curled up in a chair and hyper aware of your surroundings. For the past week, you didn’t have to watch for yourself. Bucky had made sure to do it all and now you were realizing just how much you had become dependent on him.

It was about an hour into waiting when you saw Michael appear with one of his other men. The two of you didn’t speak, just gave nods and sat in silence.

A couple hours later, a woman came out to talk to you about the surgery and how it went well, but he wouldn’t be able to do any strenuous activity for a while. You asked to see him, stopping Michael from being the first one to go in. Bucky didn’t need to deal with work right now, he needed a friend.

A friend who was almost killed protecting you.

Quietly you stepped inside to see Bucky’s sleeping frame in the bed, little beeps coming from the monitor. It pained you to see him like this, but it was a risk that came with being in the mafia. The last time you had been in a hospital, it was to watch your mother on her final days.

If only you had known then.

Pulling a chair up to the bed, you sat down and reached out to take Bucky’s flesh hand. He was still, probably hopped up on pain meds. You didn’t mind, you were just glad he was alive.

Hearing a knock, you assumed it was a nurse and called for them to come in. It was the man who came with Michael.

“Boss went home. I’ll be sitting out here. He paid them off so you can stay past visiting hours,” he spoke. Glen, if you remembered correctly.

You nodded and quietly thanked him before the door closed again.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky,” you whispered, resting your head on the bed as you held his hand.

No television, no music, just the sounds of the monitors and activity on the other side of the door.

You ended up falling asleep like that, fingers laced with his. What did wake you was soft grunting from the man in front of you. Leaning up, you caressed his arm and sighed.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay,” you sighed. You couldn’t imagine how much pain he was in.

“Y/N…” Bucky’s eyes slowly started to open, wincing at the bright light overhead before his eyes adjusted.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you stood, hip leaning against the bed as you looked down at him.

“What…happened…” he mumbled.

Letting go of his hand, you grabbed the little styrofoam cup filled with water and put the straw to his lips as you answered.

“More shooting. A bullet got lodged in your chest but they got it out. It broke a rib but that’s about the extent of it,” you said, pulling the cup away after Bucky got a good sip.

“How did we end up here?” He asked. His voice was hoarse but just slightly better. His chest ached like no pain he ever had before.

You set the cup down and bit your lip. “I uh…drove us away. Called Michael and met up with him. Not sure if they got the guys that were shooting at us. I was more worried about you,” you admitted.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, trying to shift in the bed but a grumble of pain left his lips.

“No, no, stop it. Don’t move,” you frowned.

Bucky huffed and laid back, taking a moment before speaking again. “You drove us away? But I was driving…”

“I may have driven from the passenger seat. Or well, the console really. Had to keep pressure on your wound, kick your big legs out of the way so I could reach the pedals, and steered. It looks like being a getaway driver is a skill I never knew I had,” you shrugged.

Bucky reached out slightly and brushed his fingers over yours that sat on the bed. “Are we sure you need protection anymore?” He gave a hint of a tired smile.

“Probably not. But…I do like the company,” you tilted your head, glancing down at your hand with his. “I’m sorry you got shot because of me.”

Bucky shook his head slightly. “I didn’t. I got shot doing my job. It just so happened that my job is you.”

You sighed and pulled your hand away, taking a seat on the chair. Right. A job. That’s what you were.

So why did it hurt so much to hear? Why did you want more?

Bucky could see the disappointment in your eyes and he closed his for a moment. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know. Don’t worry about it. Just focus on getting better, okay?” You said quietly, glancing over to him.

Both of you were silent for a few moments before Bucky spoke up again. “You know, I like the company too. It’s not everyday I can show this thing to someone and not have them be afraid of it,” Bucky said as his metal arm lifted, the gold shining in the overhead light.

“It’s not scary though. It’s just an arm and I don’t really plan on being on the opposite end of it when it comes to killing,” you shrugged.

Bucky reached his flesh hand out, realizing he missed your touch. Giving in, you rested your hand in his. You hated how much you liked it, but then again so did he.

“You’re more than just a job. It’s not everyday I can take someone to that diner. And I don’t let just anyone hide against me after nightmares. I don’t know, I just…” he took a couple of breaths, the pain in his chest radiating through him. “I’ve been on bodyguard jobs before but this is entirely different. You’re different. You don’t let anyone tell you what you want and you stick up for yourself. Most people wouldn’t even go so far as to raise their voice to Michael and you went in there and screamed. Others would have too much fear but not you. You know, I think I owe you for saving my life,” he watched your eyes as he spoke.

You met his eyes and squeezed his hand. “Bucky…I don’t know what this means. I don’t…I don’t do this type of thing.” Bucky furrowed his brow in confusion and you continued. “This,” holding up your hand in his. “Going to breakfast and needing someone to hold me during those nightmares. I don’t know how to feel because…truth be told I’ve started to like you. And honestly, I was scared when you were shot. I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want to have to find another guard dog or move your stuff out of my little office-“

“You call that an office?” Bucky slightly chuckled, trying not to agitate his wound.

You rolled your eyes and glared for a moment. “You know what I mean. I just…I don’t want to lose you to more gunshots. And I know it’s inevitable because that’s what this business is. That’s what the point of it is. Killing, money, fights. I want to leave it all, leave this state and go far, far away…but I don’t want to leave you,” you admitted.

Bucky listened, surprised at your change in mood. When he first met you, you were ready to kick him out of the door and to sleep in the hallway of the apartment building. Now, you were confessing feelings? Tugging on your hand to silently tell you to move closer, you stood and leaned against the bed.

“I don’t want to lose you either, angel,” Bucky spoke. That was a first. The little nickname. Reaching up with his metal hand, he took your chin and pulled you down into a gentle yet long kiss. You froze when his lips pressed against yours, but soon you melted into it. You didn’t want to pull away but the knock and gentle opening of the door made you. It was a nurse coming in to check on him, surprised that he was awake so soon. She asked him the usual questions about how he felt, completely ignoring the kiss you two had just shared. All while his hand stayed clasped around yours.

You yawned just as she made her way out after jotting down a couple things on his chart, closing the door behind her.

“You need to get home and sleep,” Bucky sighed.

“No,” you shook your head. “They said I could stay as long as I want. And I don’t want to go back there.”

Bucky eyed you for a moment before trying to shift again.

“Buck, I told you-“

“Here,” Bucky patted the bed beside him. It was his left side, where the wires wouldn’t get caught around you from the monitor.

You tilted your head before slowly moving around to the other side. Being as gentle as ever, you crawled beside him. Adjusting the blanket over both of you, you rested your head against his shoulder. Surprisingly the metal arm wasn’t uncomfortable as he used what little strength he had to pull you close. Pressing a kiss to your hair, your hand rested on his bare stomach and you sighed.

This wasn’t how you expected anything to go, but even now you felt more protected than you ever had.

You fell asleep against him fairly quickly, not even waking when the nurses came in to check on Bucky. They did suggest that you move, but Bucky warned them not to wake you. They weren’t about to try fighting him on it.

A few hours into your rest, Bucky had dozed off as well with his head leaning against yours. The door slowly clicked open and in walked not a nurse, not a doctor, not even Michael.

Alexander Pierce stood at the foot of the bed, hands in his pockets as the bodyguard from outside of Buckys’s door stood on the side of the bed. Pierce kicked the end of the bed, rattling both you and Bucky awake.

Slowly your eyes opened, yawning until you froze at the sight of the men. Bucky looked around and his own eyes grew wide.

“Pierce.”

“Barnes.”

Both of the men stared at each other for a moment longer before Alexander turned his attention to you. “Y/N, long time, no see. Looks like we have some catching up to do. Get up.”

“You won’t touch her-“ Bucky started to say but a gun was pushed against his temple.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You were lucky to get away with just a few scrapes. Don’t test me. You, get up. You’re coming with us,” Alexander stated once more.

You looked at Bucky with fear but you knew the only option was to go or die. “Just…don’t hurt him,” you said as you got up, looking at Glen. So there was another rat. You momentarily wondered how many were in Michael’s business but you didn’t have time to think about it.

“Y/N, don’t,” Bucky whispered as you got off the bed.

“It’s okay,” you nodded, though you looked anything but.

“How sweet. Now what you’re going to do is walk out with us and act as if nothing is wrong. You try to run, you’ll get shot. You try to get help, shot. Even look at someone, shot. Keep your head down and make it out alive. And then maybe we’ll keep your boyfriend alive too,” Pierce said. You didn’t bother correcting him, too scared to say anything more. He gave Glen a nod and the man hit Bucky over the head a couple of times with the butt of the gun, knocking him out.

You whimpered slightly, a hand covering your mouth. Pierce pushed you towards the door and now you knew you had to play it cool. Swallowing hard, you walked between both men all while trying to find a way out of this. Bucky couldn’t call for help yet. The nurses didn’t know anything about the mafia business, only that they were paid to keep their mouths shut about who was in the room.

Glen paid close attention to you as you just stared down at the floor in front of you. The one time you wished Michael was around, but when were you ever that lucky? The men led you outside to a black Rolls Royce, pushing you into the back. A driver took off the second the door was closed. Your hands were bound behind your back.

This was how you were going to die.

“Are you going to kill me like you did mom?” You asked, teetering on terror and anger.

Pierce chuckled and crossed his arms. “So you figured it out, huh? I was wondering if you would ever know. And I’m not quite sure how I’m going to kill you yet. May have my men cut off parts of you and send them back to Michael. After all, he can put your back together that way. Or maybe I’ll make sure he never finds you.”

“So you are going to kill me. Why? What did I ever do to you?” You glared.

“Your whore of a mother left me for Michael of all people. You know, we’re still legally married. I never signed the divorce papers she sent me. But I feel as though you deserve the same treatment. Slow, painful death. You were never really my daughter, not after you kept calling Michael ‘dad’. Do you know how much that hurts? I could have given you the best life! But instead I’m left with nothing and now I’ll make sure Michael has nothing left either,” Pierce spoke as the car turned. Where were they taking you?

“You’re pathetic,” you said, spitting right in his face.

Pierce wiped his face before leaning his arm up and elbowing you straight in the face. A sick crunch came from your nose, making you scream in pain. Glen grabbed a bandana and wrapped it around your mouth to keep you quiet.

“You got blood on my Armani,” Pierce grumbled, looking at the sleeve. “You’ll never see anyone ever again. I can promise that.”

You whimpered against the cloth in your mouth, blood slipping down your skin. Tears formed in your eyes as you silently pleaded to whatever gods or even to the universe that they got you out of this.

After an hour and a half of driving, the car pulled up to a building. It looked like a cabin in the middle of the woods. No immediate traffic, no neighbors for at least a couple of miles. Glen dragged you out of the car and pushed you forward as you followed Pierce inside. It looked like a little two bedroom place, as if a hunting cabin used during those few months. Or a safehouse. Probably a safehouse.

“I used to love coming here with my grandfather as a child. It was beautiful during the summers. I was hoping to pass it along to my children, but it seems like that won’t be an option. Now, I suggest you get comfortable. And don’t think about escaping. Every window, every door, they’re all sealed shut. Only way in and out is that door,” Pierce pointed to the one you three just walked through. “And you won’t be able to get within two feet of it.”

Just then, Glen leaned down and strapped an ankle monitor to your leg. “Try to leave and it sounds off. Try to take it off and it sounds off.”

You muffled words against the bandana, and Pierce gave Glen a nod as he stood. Taking the bandana away, you frowned. “Why don’t you just kill me now and get it over with?”

“Because I want to see how much you mean to Michael. I’m sure he will do anything to keep you alive, he just doesn’t know that you won’t be at the end of it all,” Pierce said before backhanding you, sending you stumbling. Glen pulled out a phone just as you looked back, blood still caked on your face from your broken nose. “Perfect. Matthew, I’ll send more men within a couple hours,” he said as he passed by you.

So Glen wasn’t even really a Glen at all.

Nodding, Glen pushed you to the couch. He sent the photo he took to Pierce and followed him out of the door for a moment.

The two spoke in hushed tones as you gently felt your nose. You knew you needed to put it back into place. You had done it once before in high school when your friend fell down the stairs, but could you do it to yourself? You took a few deep breaths and winced before cracking it back into place with a yelp. Glen, Matthew, whatever his name was, looked in to see you cradling your face.

“Make sure she doesn’t leave or else I’ll have you buried out back here as well,” Pierce said, not realizing you managed to hear that little bit.

He buried bodies around here? Great, you were surrounded by corpses. Pierce left and the asshole walked back in, closing and locking the door.

All while you were trying to figure out what to do next, the nurses alerted Michael about Bucky’s knocked out condition. Quickly he rushed to the hospital and found both Glen and you missing. Bucky had woken up just moments before, telling him everything that happened with Pierce.

Bucky felt disgusted with himself all while Michael felt the same. They didn’t keep you safe.

Now they just had to find you.

Tag list: @crownstealer @borikenlove @bitchassbucky @babyboibucky @buckybarneschokeme @buckys-blue-eyes @vanillanaps @bibbidibobbidibucky @spicynudlesoup @bemine-bucky @suchababie @kaaabiii @rebekahdawkins @sebsbrokentoe @marvel-3407 @acmbooksandfilm @stucky-my-ship @boofy1998 @valsworldofcreativity @yaszx @21st-century-daydreamer @doll1917 @luxeavenger @hallecarey1 @booktease21 @supernatural-love14 @bookstan0618

Born In Flames || Chapter Seven, Part One

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Being the daughter of a mafia boss was hard enough growing up. You got out and made a new life for yourself as a bartender only to be sucked in when your old man made a bad deal and he thinks you need protection. Enter Bucky Barnes, your new bodyguard and roommate.

Warnings: Minor character deaths, non-con (no explicit details, just mentions), blood, torment, slight disassociation, kidnapping

Word Count: Both chapters together are a bit over 5K

Authors Note: So this chapter got dark, and long. So it’s split up into two parts. I’m putting the same warnings on both parts as well, though the second part is slightly less dark but still heavy.

Born In Flames Masterlist

Part Two

Reblog & leave some feedback!

You were cold. Freezing, actually.

Stripped down to the bare minimum clothing, every week being used to send photos.

Pierce hadn’t stepped foot inside the cabin since then. Men were stationed all around it, though only two would stay inside with you.

To say all pride went out of the window was an understatement. You didn’t get to use the bathroom with the door closed. Sleeping in a bed? Not allowed. You were only given an oversized shirt to sit around in.

They didn’t care about you. They cared about the check and making their boss proud.

And every week, Bucky and Michael grew more and more frustrated with the lack of findings. Michael kept reminding Bucky that he needed to calm down due to his surgery. He was still healing but he was going nuts without you. The only solace he found was every Saturday when a photo of you would be sent. It was marked with the date, a piece of paper that you held. Each week, there were new bruises and cuts on your skin. Each week, Bucky found a new reason to rage. He wanted to make them all feel the pain they were putting you in.

On the business side of things, Pierce was using you as leverage to get a hold of all of Michael’s dealings. The trading, the drugs, the guns, all of it. Michael tried to fight back but he learned early on that if he did, you received the brunt of it. He was sent videos of you being beaten, called names, tears streaming down your face.

Bucky broke the door when he saw it. His fist went through to the other side.

He had been staying at your place since then, even talking to Miss Liz every morning. He gave her some lie about how you were off visiting family and you weren’t sure how long you’d be gone. She accepted it, though she was probably too stoned to even think farther on it since you told her once that you don’t speak to your family anymore.

Weeks turned to months, the snow hitting hard. Each morning Bucky woke to see your paintings that sat on the shelf, his phone still not being sent any good messages. They tried to track your phone but it was off, probably broken and left on the side of some highway. They tried to track the photos but nothing seemed to come up and Pierce’s men were smart about where they drove. They knew when they were followed.

Michael started not to trust any of his men except Bucky. He thought Jasper was just a single rat but now that Glen had become one, he didn’t know who he could talk to.

So he talked to Bucky. The two of them tried to figure everything out. Hiring detectives was not an option, especially in the mafia business.

Currently you sat on the end of the couch, curled up around yourself. The men had already done unspeakable things to you. Things you never thought you would be worried about. Both men in the house had forced themselves on you time and time again. You taught yourself how to not be in that moment. To lose yourself in your head and not think about the man between your legs.

You thought about Bucky. When you slept, when you were awake, you thought of him. The few hours he held you while you slept. The way he held your face after the first shooting and how he took care of your ear. The way he allowed you to cry against him after your nightmares. He never once got angry with you. He dealt with your moods and the stupid guard dog name you gave him. You wished you could take it back, to tell him he was more than a guard dog just once more. He was kind and gentle, even allowing you to touch the arm he hated so much.

It was a Saturday, and you knew it. Stanley, the other man who was at the house with you and Glen/Matthew, got up from his chair and pulled out a switchblade from his pocket.

“New orders. I guess Michael isn’t listening very well,” he smirked, taking a seat next to you. Glen pulled up a wooden chair and sat in front of you, phone out and ready to record.

You were ready for the punches, the spitting, the raping. But when the knife slid against your skin, your eyes widened. “D-don’t,” you whispered, your voice broken. Your left eye was black and there was another dark bruise along your lip where it had been previously busted open.

Stanley chuckled darkly and pushed the metal into your skin, causing you to yelp in pain. You tried to pull away but Stanley’s free hand reached up and gripped your throat. “Stay still,” he spoke.

You squeezed your eyes shut as blood started to drip down the side of your thigh. Words started to appear, letter after letter, as you whispered in pain.

New Years.

Michael had until New Years to sign over everything or else you would be killed.

What Michael didn’t know was that they planned on killing you regardless. Everything that happened between Alexander and your mother was put onto you. A woman who was only a baby when she left him. A woman who didn’t want to be a part of the mafia at all.

Glen/Matthew zoomed in on the blood before your face, then shut the video off. Stanley gave your already wounded cheek a slap before getting up. “Go clean yourself up.”

Slowly you stood up, holding your breath as your thigh stung. The carving wasn’t super, super deep, but it didn’t stop bleeding for a few minutes. Making your way into the bathroom, you stepped inside of the bathtub and sat on the edge. Running the water, you hissed as it touched the open wounds. Tears fell as you tried to contain yourself.

All you wanted was to be home, curled up in bed with your bad television shows and unhealthy snacks. You wanted Bucky to be there and laugh as you made some silly joke. God, you missed that laugh. He didn’t laugh enough in the time you two had and you knew now he wouldn’t even smile. You didn’t have to be psychic for that.

Once it was as clean as it was going to get, you grabbed a cloth from the linen closet and held it against your thigh. You couldn’t find any gauze or bandages, so an old washcloth would have to do the trick. You just hoped you wouldn’t get an infection. Who knew where that knife had been before.

You sat back down on the couch and stared at the floor, disassociating once more. You often found yourself doing it to calm your mind. Crying gave you a headache and if you could get lost in some world in your mind where you were happy, then that’s how it had to be.

Back in Brooklyn, Bucky and Michael were sitting in his office when the video message came through. Michael opened up the email on his laptop and Bucky leaned down beside him.

The moment they saw you, how you screamed in pain, Bucky was ready to tear the office apart in rage. The metal plates on his arm whirred as he tried to compose himself. They were used to seeing your face beaten and bruised, but they hadn’t carved into you like that. A message was being sent through your skin.

Underneath the video was a little explanation about Michael handing everything over before New Years.

This was the last straw.

Bucky stormed out despite Michael calling out to him.

It was an unspoken rule not to go to the mafia bosses house. Every mafia boss adhered to it.

But Bucky wasn’t the mafia boss.

And he was about to use all of his training to get you back.

It took a few days to plan out, and by now you had been stuck in that cabin for six long months. He could tell by the photos and videos that they weren’t feeding you properly. You were nearly skin and bones. He devised a plan and decided to carry it out on his own. Even if he was killed, he just couldn’t sit around and do nothing while you suffered.

At about one am, Bucky found himself creeping around the outside of Pierce’s home. He had disabled all of the cameras so it didn’t alert anyone of movement before slipping inside. Did Pierce really not have any guards around? How stupid was he? Bucky lurked in the shadows of the home, only seeing one guard pass through a hall. Using a gun with a silencer, he shot the man and grabbed him before he could make a thud. Shoving him into a closet, Bucky then kept going through before finding Alexander's bedroom. Pushing the door open, he whipped out his gun and pointed it right at the man.

“Where is she?” Bucky asked, stepping inside.

Pierce didn’t seem phased, setting his book down and pulling off his glasses. “Didn’t hear you come in. Smart, I suppose. But did you really think this would be the best course of action? One simple call and she could be dead before you even try to pull the trigger.”

Bucky aimed at the nightstand, shooting the phone that sat there before aiming it back at Alexander. Pierce sighed and stood, though Bucky didn’t move.

“It’s nice that you’ve come to save her but you’ll never actually find her. I’m not dumb enough to keep her here. And good luck trying to find her in any of my properties. It will take far too long,” Pierce chuckled.

Bucky stared at him, trying to figure out his game. Was he trying to kill time? Distract him? Quickly the gun pointed down and he shot Pierce’s arm.

Apparently Pierce didn’t actually think Bucky would shoot by the way he looked at the man.

“You’re nothing but a coward,” he said as he gripped the old man's neck. “You’re going to take me to her or I’ll make sure you don’t leave this room alive.”

Pierce tried to pull away but Bucky gripped tighter. Pressing the barrel of the gun to his head, Bucky glared.

“Okay…I’ll take you,” Pierce said, holding his hands up.

Bucky watched him for a moment, trying to see if Pierce was going to try anything, but he pushed him to the door and kept his gun pressed to the back of his head the entire time.

Pierce led them to the garage and got in one of his expensive cars. Bucky sat in the passenger seat, never wavering his aim as Pierce drove. Anytime the man spoke, Bucky would quickly tell him to shut it. He had nothing left to hear. All he wanted was to hear you and make sure you were alive.

Pierce only hoped that his men were stationed where they were supposed to be. Five on one wouldn’t be too hard for them to get a good shot at Bucky, right?

Right?

Tag list: @crownstealer @borikenlove @bitchassbucky @babyboibucky @buckybarneschokeme @buckys-blue-eyes @vanillanaps @bibbidibobbidibucky @spicynudlesoup @bemine-bucky @suchababie @kaaabiii @rebekahdawkins @sebsbrokentoe @marvel-3407 @acmbooksandfilm @stucky-my-ship @boofy1998 @valsworldofcreativity @yaszx @21st-century-daydreamer @doll1917 @luxeavenger @hallecarey1 @booktease21 @supernatural-love14 @bookstan0618 @pastamomma @broadwaybabe18

Born In Flames || Chapter Seven, Part Two

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Being the daughter of a mafia boss was hard enough growing up. You got out and made a new life for yourself as a bartender only to be sucked in when your old man made a bad deal and he thinks you need protection. Enter Bucky Barnes, your new bodyguard and roommate.

Warnings: Minor character deaths, non-con (no explicit details, just mentions), blood, torment, slight disassociation, kidnapping

Word Count: Both chapters together are a bit over 5K

Authors Note: So this chapter got dark, and long. So it’s split up into two parts. I’m putting the same warnings on both parts as well, though the second part is slightly less dark but still heavy.

Born In Flames Masterlist

Part One

Reblog & leave some feedback!

Bucky was surprised the drive took so long, though he caught glimpses of signs as the headlights hit them. They were still in New York, but definitely not the city. He wondered if Pierce was taking some random route to ambush him, but with a gun to his head, it wouldn’t be a smart idea.

The roads turned into the woods and soon the car was slowly pulling up to a dimly lit cabin. Bucky saw all of the men posted outside and there was no doubt more inside.

“Get out,” Bucky said. They both left the car at the same time, the gun never leaving sight of Pierce. Once he rounded the car, he grabbed Pierce and used him as a shield while the men realized what was happening and approached with their own guns.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Bucky called out.

He didn’t see the man who had just finished taking a piss farther out in the trees, but he heard the soft crunch of twigs and dead leaves beneath his feet. Bucky pulled the gun away for one second and shot at the spot the sound came from.

It seemed his days in battle overseas really aided him. He hit his mark before returning to the men. He didn’t necessarily have a plan for the moment but he knew he had to act fast. Gripping Pierce even harder, Bucky started to shoot each of the men he saw. None of them fired back, knowing it would kill their boss before it ever hit Bucky. Four men down and one in the woods.

“I should say you’re a shitty boss for even leaving them outside in this cold,” Bucky muttered as snow started to fall. Pushing him towards the door, Bucky whispered “knock.”

Pierce did as he was told and before he knew it, Glen/Matthew opened the door.

He reached for his gun but Bucky shot him right between the eyes, though he added a couple more rounds for even betraying his job. Stanley shot up from beside you, your worn out body curled up. It was evident that something had just finished happening within the last hour. Your panties were off to the side and you looked as though you had struggled to shield yourself with the oversized shirt.

Bucky's eyes grew wide as he put two and two together, piecing it all in place. “You sick fuck!” He yelled, causing you to wake with a whimper of pain. You were dazed as Stanley’s body was shot even more, dropping in front of you.

Sitting up, you curled into the couch when you saw Pierce. But then Bucky’s face appeared from behind him and you froze.

“Bucky?” You whispered, your voice hoarse from all of the screaming.

“A whore like her mother,” Alexander scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Bucky quickly turned him around and shot him in the forehead. His body toppled backwards, hitting Stanley’s slightly. He couldn’t stop himself from emptying the rounds into all three of the bodies on the floor. The gun clicked, signaling they were all gone. Tossing the gun to the side, not having to worry about prints due to his gloves, he slowly stepped over the bodies and to you.

You shook, staring as the blood pouring out of the men. “Is this real?” You asked, wiping at your eyes. Your mind would play tricks on you, your dreams sometimes pleasant only to wake up still in the cabin.

Bucky knelt in front of you, gently taking your hands. He looked you over, disgusted at the way the men used you as a punching bag among other things. Pulling off his jacket, he slid it over your shoulders and cupped your face. You winced, your hands moving to rest on his forearms. You stared at him, gripping him as tightly as your weak hands could, hoping that this wasn’t a dream. You couldn’t bear to wake up from something that felt so real.

“I’m here, Angel. It’s real,” Bucky nodded. Glancing around, he furrowed his brow when he didn’t see any pants for you. “Where are your clothes?” He asked, frowning.

You shuddered and shook your head. “They took them away. I don’t…” you trailed off, knowing that they tossed them in the trash early on. They only ever gave you shirts and underwear, and you were “lucky” to even get those, according to Stanley.

Bucky swore under his breath. Grabbing the panties he did see, he slowly helped you into them and got you on your feet. Your knees wobbled, muscles not yet having found themselves. They never did after those times when you were used. Bucky helped you get your arms into the jacket and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m gonna get you home,” he said. Picking you up, he walked out of the house and got you into the passenger seat of Pierce’s car. Chances were that they wouldn’t have called it in and reported it stolen yet. After all, the owner was dead now.

Once he got you in, Bucky quickly rounded the car and got into the passenger seat. Setting the gps on his phone, he set it on the console and turned the heat up. He had felt your body and you were cold as ice.

Quickly he pulled out of the place and headed back towards the city while you curled up in the seat. “How did you find me?” You asked after a few minutes, facing him. Bucky reached out with his hand and you took it, leaning forward and holding it to your cheek. He was so, so warm and you needed the comfort.

“Forced Pierce to bring me there. We’ve been getting all of those videos and photos. When we got the one from today…” Bucky shook his head slightly and stared at the road. “I couldn’t sit by and watch as you were hurt. I was ready to kill anyone who stood in my way of finding you. I didn’t care if I was going to die, I just…I had to find you.”

You listened, pulling the hood up on Bucky’s jacket to hold the warmth in. He knew taking you to your place wasn’t the best option considering they knew where you lived, but you needed to be home. And without a boss, Pierce’s men didn’t have anyone to answer to.

“Michael and I have been trying to find anything about where you were. He’s been signing things over to Pierce just to get you back, but each time one thing was signed over, Pierce would add on another,” Bucky glanced over at you, how puffy and red your eyes were even in the darkness. “Angel…what did they do to you?”

You looked down, though you didn’t pull away. Admitting to what they did was the hardest thing and you never thought you would have to. You were sure that they were going to kill you. Turning the heat up as much as it could, you closed your eyes. “They…used me. Made me do things I didn’t want to. I can’t…” you shook your head as tears started to fall once more.

Bucky pulled the car over and put it in park before turning to you fully. “Shh. I’m sorry. They will never, ever hurt you again. I promise. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’m not leaving you again. Ever.”

You believed him, but you were still scared. Nodding slightly, you took a few deep breaths. He smelled of leather and whiskey, something you didn’t realize you missed until now. Pulling your head back, you looked into his eyes. “You saved me.”

Bucky brushed your tears away with a nod. “I did say I owed you for saving my life, didn’t I?”

You nodded, though a smile didn’t break through. You weren’t sure if you could smile again, but it would come back in time. “Take me home,” you whispered.

Bucky kissed your bruised cheek as gently as he could before pulling the car back onto the road.

Slowly you started to recognize places, knowing home wasn’t too far away. Bucky didn’t pull his hand from yours. He needed to make sure you were there and you needed him there.

The only time he pulled away was when he parked the car outside of Pierce’s house. He made sure no traces were left before leading you to the car he originally drove in with.

The less evidence, the better.

He got you home quickly after that, helping you up to your apartment. When he opened the door, you frowned. It was somewhat messy, though it wasn’t terrible. To-go containers sat on the counter as well as empty water bottles.

“Buck, what is this?” You asked, looking around. “I didn’t have any of this…”

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve um…been staying here. In case any of the men came looking for something or if you found your way back somehow.”

You looked at him with a sigh, moving to wrap your arms around him and burying your face into his chest. His wound was more or less healed, though you momentarily even forgot he was shot. “Stay.”

“As long as you want me to,” Bucky spoke against your hair. “Think you can take a shower?” He asked, knowing it would help you at least a little.

You pulled back slightly. “I think so,” you muttered. Bucky didn’t give you a chance to do it yourself. He led you to the bathroom and had you sit on the closed toilet seat while he started it up. You noticed that his hair had started to grow out as well as his beard, but not terribly long. It was more full rather than the scruff you had gotten used to. Various new items sat on the counter. A toothbrush, some mouthwash, and Bucky even put some of his own body wash and such in the shower. Bucky turned back to you and nodded gently.

“I’m going to be right outside, okay? Call out if you need me. I’ll bring back a towel,” he looked down at you and he now saw the fresh writing on your leg closer than before. Breathing out through his nose, he met your eyes.

You noticed it but nodded anyways, pulling him in for a tight hug, or as tight as you could manage. “Thank you,” you whispered before letting him go.

Bucky kissed your temple and stepped out, leaving the door just slightly ajar to hear you better if you needed his help. Slowly standing up, you peeled off the jacket, shirt, and underwear. You couldn’t bear to look into the mirror, afraid of what you might see. The showers you were allowed to take were short and cold, while this one felt nice and inviting. If this was a dream, it was the most realistic one. You began to wash your hair first, caked in grease and sweat. It took you two run throughs of shampoo and conditioner before you felt clean. Then came the body.

You used the favorite soap that hadn’t been touched in a while, lathering up and washing your skin as hard as you could. That’s when the tears started again. You knew it was your hands, but you got flashes of the men’s hands on you again. You sat down at the bottom of the tub and tried to do it slowly, shaking as your hand ran up your inner thigh. You froze, sobbing as you tossed the washcloth and hid your face against your hands.

Bucky had decided to clean up the trash he left, shoving it all into bags and setting it by the front door to take out later or tomorrow. He usually was a very clean man, never liking to see trash scattered around. He wasn’t even one to have a bunch of items in his place. He only went there lately to get clothes and such. Once he was done, he went into the hallway and grabbed a thick, fresh towel. Knocking on the door, he peeked his head in.

“Hey Angel? I brought you a towel,” he said softly, setting it on the counter. When you didn’t answer, he frowned deeply. “Y/N?”

“Thank..you…” you gasped between quiet sobs. Bucky sighed and walked in farther.

“Do you need anything?” He asked. He didn’t want to open the curtain considering you were naked and even though he had just seen more of you today than ever, he wasn’t going to be that guy.

You hesitated for a moment before answering. “Don’t go,” you spoke.

Bucky moved to sit on the toilet, elbows on his thighs and hands clasped together. “I’m right here, I promise.”

You sniffled and grabbed the washcloth to try washing yourself again. You had to. You had to get the feeling of all of it off of your skin. Biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut, you quickened your pace and scrubbed your skin even more until it nearly burned. Bucky was right outside of the curtain, and you knew he would help you do just about anything, but you were strong, right? You had to do this yourself. Once you felt like you were about to make yourself bleed from all of the scrubbing, you slowly stood and rinsed yourself off once more before shutting the shower off. Peeking out from behind the curtain, you looked down at Bucky and reached your hand out towards the towel. He handed it to you and you wrapped yourself in it before pushing the curtain back fully.

Bucky kept his eyes on your face as he stood. “I know this isn’t what you want but…go sit in bed. I need to take care of the…cut,” he muttered. Neither of you wanted to talk about it, but you knew he just didn’t want it to get infected.

Nodding, you stepped out of the shower and headed to your room. He gathered the items he needed while you got dressed. Your room had been pretty much untouched, though he had no reason to even step foot inside. You pulled on a long sleeve and some shorts, knowing it would be better for him to get to the cuts. Crawling onto the bed, you sighed and tried to allow your heart to settle. You were home whether it was a dream or not. You leaned back against the pillows. Being in a bed felt so odd after six months on a couch or floor.

Bucky knocked on the door and you called out that he could come inside. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, one arm full of items. Gauze, wrap, antibacterial ointment, and he even grabbed a couple bottles of water and an apple.

“I thought you might be hungry. It’s not much but if they haven’t been feeding you, you’ll have to start small,” he muttered as he climbed onto the bed next to you.

Sitting up, you curled one leg beneath the extended wounded one, taking the apple as he handed it to you with a small thanks. He turned on the light on the nightstand to get a better look. “So you don’t need stitches, but this won’t feel good. Just remember to breathe, okay?” He asked. You nodded, taking a small bite of the apple.

Bucky proceeded to clean the wound, though you chewed on the apple to bite back the pain. You were thankful it was still somewhat fresh so it didn’t start to get infected. You had smaller cuts from when they hit you but not enough that would get gross. You focused on Bucky’s face, how his eyebrows knitted together as he focused. He had bags under his eyes and looked just about as tired as you.

“What did I miss?” You asked, needing a distraction. Bucky glanced over to your face before your pleading eyes told him you needed it.

Bucky sighed and looked back to your leg. “Well, Michael has pretty much put everyone through the ringer since he doesn’t trust anyone anymore. Glen had been loyal for years so it’s pretty warranted. Liz keeps giving me her pot cookies but I don’t do that stuff so I gave them to Michael. I guess he likes them, but don’t tell her I’m not eating them. I gave her the excuse that you were visiting family. Well…I gave everyone that excuse. I went to your job and told them how there was a family emergency so you would be out of work for a while. Your aunt was sick and you had to stay and look after her. Duff seemed pretty okay with it but I know he missed you. Michael…really tried to get you back. He was ready to do what Pierce asked and sign over the whole company. I know he’s been a bad father, but he does care about you,” Bucky’s words were softer at the end.

You kept chewing on the apple as you listened, your free hand resting on your stomach. You were happy that Bucky came up with lies so people didn’t worry, though you sighed when he mentioned Michael caring.

“Don’t tell him I’m home yet, okay? I just…need a night in here,” you mumbled, setting the half eaten apple on the nightstand as you groaned in pain when Bucky put the ointment on. He whispered a soft apology but continued. Taking a sip of water, he then applied a bandage and taped it down so it wouldn’t fall off too easily.

Setting the water down, Bucky gathered the items and headed out to put them away. You looked around, somewhat feeling like a stranger now in your own home. For the last six months, you had been put out and made to feel like you were nothing but a hole, a body to torment. Pulling the blanket over your legs, you curled up on your side and glanced at the clock. Five am. A time you used to go to sleep after work was finished. It made your heart hurt.

Bucky appeared in the doorway, chewing on his lip. “You should get some sleep,” he mumbled.

Looking over at him, you reached your hand out and motioned for him to come closer. Once he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, you took his hand. “Stay with me, please?” You asked, not wanting to be alone. Sure, you hadn’t been alone in months, but you trusted Bucky.

Bucky's heart broke at how scared you looked. Nodding, he squeezed your hand. “Let me go get changed and I’ll be right back, Angel,” he said.

You nodded and let go as he got up, watching him walk out. That nickname was beginning to be your favorite in the world. Your brain drifted off as you waited, trying hard to stay away from the demons that were now going to plague your mind. You didn’t have nightmares much at the cabin, just because they would tire you out by slapping you awake and making sure you didn’t get any decent sleep. Hearing soft footsteps, Bucky walked in and shut the door, having done a check around the home before getting changed. He wore just black pajama pants and a tee. Shutting off the light, he crawled into bed on the other side of you and laid on his side. You turned towards him, the streetlight illuminating his face just enough.

“What’s going to happen now? With Michael and Pierce,” you spoke quietly as Bucky slowly pulled you in and wrapped one arm around your waist. The other slid beneath your pillow, his face just inches from yours. His touch was soft, afraid of breaking you farther.

“I’m not sure. It may be covered up, cleaned up with disappearances and bodies that weren’t found,” Bucky shrugged, which made something trigger in your mind.

“Bodies…Bucky, Pierce has bodies buried around that cabin. He mentioned it the day I was taken there. Who knows how many there are,” you muttered, your hand resting on his cheek as you brushed over his beard.

Bucky frowned and shook his head. “An issue for another day. C’mon, you need sleep,” he whispered, kissing the inside of your wrist. You watched him with soft eyes.

“Guard dog…” you muttered, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. From there, you curled your body against his and tried desperately to relax against him.

Tag list: @crownstealer @borikenlove @bitchassbucky @babyboibucky @buckybarneschokeme @buckys-blue-eyes @vanillanaps @bibbidibobbidibucky @spicynudlesoup @bemine-bucky @suchababie @kaaabiii @rebekahdawkins @sebsbrokentoe @marvel-3407 @acmbooksandfilm @stucky-my-ship @boofy1998 @valsworldofcreativity @yaszx @21st-century-daydreamer @doll1917 @luxeavenger @hallecarey1 @booktease21 @supernatural-love14 @bookstan0618 @pastamomma @broadwaybabe18

Born In Flames || Chapter Eight

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Being the daughter of a mafia boss was hard enough growing up. You got out and made a new life for yourself as a bartender only to be sucked in when your old man made a bad deal and he thinks you need protection. Enter Bucky Barnes, your new bodyguard and roommate.

Warnings: Nightmares, (mentions of kidnapping, non-con, death, abuse), reader is v lost and sad

Word Count: 2.6K

Authors Note: I know this is a bit shorter than the last few but it’s sort of a filler chapter. Next one will set place a month in the future!

Born In Flames Masterlist

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Bucky woke to the sound of screaming beside him. Quickly he shot up, looking around in his tired state before he realized it was your thrashing body beside him. Turning towards you, he gently shook your shoulder and called out your name. It took a minute before your eyes flew open and you jerked away from him.

Quick breaths left your lips as you stared up at the man before your brain started to wake a bit more. “Bucky…” you whispered, eyes full of tears from what you just saw behind your lids. Covering your face, you started to sob. In your dream, you were fighting against the men that held you down. And as you woke up, you pushed the only man away who was trying to help.

“I’m so sorry,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath.

It broke Bucky’s heart. Slowly he leaned back down to lay on his side, pulling you closer against him. “Shh, don’t apologize. It’ll take more than a push to hurt me. I’m here, you’re home, they’re gone,” he soothed, using one hand to pull your own hands from your face. To see you go from a woman who stood up for herself and fought against having a bodyguard whittled down to a scared soul fighting just for one good night of sleep made Bucky want to kill those men all over again if it brought you peace. He pressed soft kisses against your forehead and cheek, trying to calm you down. Eventually you did, clinging to him as if he was going to disappear.

Even though your tears stopped, that’s how you laid until late morning. You started to doze off in his arms as he ended up falling asleep, but your mind would jerk itself awake. Was this how you had to live from now on? Afraid to even shut your eyes for a single moment?

The sun started to show through the curtains and you buried your face against Bucky’s chest. You could hear his phone ringing from the other room where you left his jacket that night, but that only meant you had to get up. Bucky slowly opened his eyes and glanced down, feeling you move closer. He hadn’t been able to sleep too deeply, but just enough. Brushing your hair back from your face, Bucky sighed the moment he heard his phone.

“That’s probably Michael,” he muttered.

“Wait, did he know you were going last night?” you asked, leaning your head up and looking into his sleepy eyes. He could tell that you hadn’t fallen back asleep since the nightmare even though it had been hours ago.

Bucky shook his head and sighed, moving to lay on his back as he pulled you to his side. “After we got the video, I left. Came back here for a couple hours but then…” he trailed off since you already knew what went down.

“He’s gonna be mad,” you frowned, your hand resting on his chest.

“Let’s see,” he slowly sat up, looking down at you. “C’mon, I’m gonna make you some food.”

You nodded, slowly sliding out of bed as he got up. Your body felt like it was on fire. Everything ached but it was a feeling you had unfortunately gotten all too used to over the past few months. Bucky walked out first, his phone going to voicemail only for it to start ringing again. You were slower, pulling on a pair of sweatpants since the chill of your room finally hit now that you weren’t under your blanket and against a personal heater. You caught the slightest glimpse of yourself in the mirror over your dresser and shuddered. The skin around your eye was dark purple and you had dark bruises as well as lighter ones around your cheeks. Quickly you looked away and left the bedroom just as Bucky answered his phone.

“Boss-” Bucky started to speak but was interrupted by yelling which you could hear as you walked closer. Sighing, he started to make a pot of coffee while you took a seat at the table. You knew Michael was mad, you heard that tone all too often growing up. Bucky kept his back to you as he pulled out two mugs. He seemed to know your home like the back of his hand now, but you didn’t mind. He didn’t try to speak or cut off Michael, understanding the anger. It was warranted, though it sounded like Michael didn’t even know the outcome of last night. He ranted about Pierce having gone missing and that he knew Bucky had something to do with it.

Standing, you walked over and took the phone from Bucky. He furrowed his brow and shook his head, but you just leaned back against the counter. “Dad.”

Bucky widened his eyes as Michael quickly found his own silence for a moment. Neither was expecting you to say that, nor was Michael expecting to hear you at all.

“Sweetheart? How did you…” Michael sounded shocked, immediately softening his demeanor.

“Bucky saved me. So please...stop yelling at him. We’ll be at your office later, I promise,” you said, leaning to the side against Bucky’s arm. “I’m okay.”

Michael sighed and you could hear him relaxing a bit more knowing that you weren’t dead. “Alright, just be careful. Tell him…I’m sorry for yelling.”

That was a first. But you told him you would and ended the call, setting the phone on the counter. Bucky pressed a kiss to the top of your head before you walked back over to the table to take a seat. Your legs still felt wobbly and you didn’t exactly have much muscle anymore. You didn’t get to take walks or go do things while in the cabin. You tried to make yourself useful there by cleaning up around the place. It distracted you for a little bit.

Both of you were quiet as Bucky started cooking. You had gotten so used to the hunger pains that smelling food didn’t affect it much. It had become second nature, like cramps from your period. Which you were still thankful you were getting yours, meaning you weren’t pregnant. But you did want to go to the doctors at some point to get tested for any STD’s and make sure you weren’t totally messed up. Bucky had turned on something from Spotify, light music so it wasn’t deathly quiet. You watched him, noticing the clean counters and how he must have tossed all of the trash away while you were busy showering or in bed.

After about fifteen minutes, Bucky set a plate with two eggs and a couple pieces of toast down in front of you. “If you still want more after, just let me know okay? I just don’t want to upset your stomach too much,” he said as he sat his own plate down. He walked over to grab both coffees, setting one in front of you and one in front of him before sitting down.

You took slow bites, one arm wrapped around your torso as you glanced outside. Everything was covered in snow, showing that it must have come down a bit more within the last few hours. Bucky kept an eye on you. Never had he imagined he would fall for you, the independent woman who he was just supposed to watch over, but there he was. He wanted to make sure you never ached again.

Being home was a funny feeling. On one hand, you felt safe. You felt like you could sit inside and not worry about being taken again. But on the other hand, your body had become so used to being cramped in a small space, not having any decisions, not feeling free. It was hard to explain, but you just felt…off.

You must have been staring outside for too long because Bucky rested his hand on yours, causing you to jump slightly as your fork clattered to the plate.

“Shit, sorry,” you muttered with a sigh.

Bucky’s eyes softened and caressed your skin. “It’s okay,” he nodded.

You tried to eat a bit quicker after that, not wanting to lose yourself in your head and forget about the food altogether. Cold eggs didn’t sound that great.

Once the food was gone and you were sure you would be able to keep it down, you decided it was better to go now instead of putting off the inevitable. Bucky offered to clean up while you got ready. Heading back into your room, you changed into some leggings since your jeans seemed to practically slide off you. Had you really lost that much weight? It saddened you, since prior to everything you loved your body. You opted for a hoodie as well. Next…you had to do something with your face. Thankfully there was some sun outside so you could wear sunglasses but the rest of the bruises needed to be covered.

After two breakdowns and almost breaking your mirror, you managed to get through it. You brushed through your hair and pulled your hood up, leaving your room. Bucky had changed quicker and sat on the couch waiting for you to finish. Glancing over, he gave you a soft smile and stood. Reaching out for your hand, you took his and let him lead you out of the apartment.

You didn’t realize every sound would put you on edge until you got to the car and finally took a deep breath.

Life really wasn’t going to be easy now, was it?

Bucky headed towards the office as you stared ahead, just trying to remind yourself that Pierce was dead. He couldn't hurt you anymore. As far as you knew, he didn't have any other children and couldn’t remarry due to still being married to your mother despite her death. You felt sick but the only solace you found in the whole ordeal was the thought of Pierce’s lifeless body on the floor in front of you. His men had no one to answer to so they wouldn’t come for you, or at least you hoped. The drive to the office was a bit quicker than you expected, but you had gotten lost in your head again and Bucky parking pulled you from it.

Stepping out, you took Bucky’s hand and walked beside him as you entered the building. The moment you stepped inside, everyone quieted down and stared at you. You kept your hood up and looked forward, the sunglasses still on your face. Bucky knocked on the door and you heard Michael on the other side. Walking in, the door closed behind you both and you looked at the old man behind the desk. He looked tired, more than you’ve ever seen. He had stacks of papers on his desk from signing over his businesses and deals, now which he got to keep and possibly more. He stood when he saw you, frowning deeply. You pulled off the sunglasses and he couldn’t help the tears that started to form in his eyes. Stepping over, you wrapped your arms around him and began to cry. He was willing to sign over his whole life just to make sure you came home, the whole life he worked hard to get, the life that kept him from you and your mother for years. Despite his asshole ways, you knew he felt the guilt. You could feel it in the hug he gave you back. You didn’t even have to speak to tell him that you forgave him for everything in the past. That you were sorry for the way you acted.

The hug lasted a couple of minutes before you pulled back and gently wiped at your eyes with your sleeve. Then the inevitable question was asked. “What happened?”

So you told him everything, though you didn’t go into detail about the rape, he understood what you meant when you alluded to it. You told him everything you heard, everything you saw. It wasn’t too much, but it was just enough that he linked a few things together. Bucky held your hand as you spoke, a touch you were thankful for. You never wanted to be dependent on anyone, but you definitely felt yourself slipping into the habit of seeking out his touch. Michael didn’t even bat an eye at it, already knowing what Bucky felt for you.

“So what happens now? Pierce is dead and so are some of his men. I’m sure people are going to be looking for the person that did it and with everything of yours being signed over…” you asked, glancing at the stack of papers.

Michael shrugged softly. “I have to figure that out. These will be shred and burned so it doesn’t come back to us. Thankfully he wasn’t able to quite get everything yet. But…” Michael paused, looking at you as you gave him a confused expression. “Your mother told me that he made a will after you were born. Now I’m not sure if he changed it over the years, but I doubt it. Charlotte said that in the event of both of them dying, everything went to you. The money, cars, house, the business. And I can’t imagine him trying to change it if he was going to kill you like he planned on. If it is real, you could end up getting everything.”

You sat there dumbfounded for a few moments. Sure, you never had to worry about money growing up, but it was never really yours until you got away from the mafia business and into your own life. But Pierce had been loaded. You already saw that by the car Bucky rolled up in at the cabin and the house the two of you dropped it back off at before leaving.

“I don’t want it,” you shook your head.

Michael raised his eyebrows, leaning forward as his arms rested against his desk. “Y/N, that is a lot of money. You could do anything you wanted with it. You said you wanted to move out of state, right? With that money, you could probably even leave the country and travel.”

You pondered on it. He had a point. “Okay, say this is real and he didn’t change it. How would they know where to find me? And I hope you know I’ll be giving you the actual business. I don’t want anything to do with that. I’ll take the money as payment for the trauma and shit I have to deal with now,” you muttered.

“I have cops on my payroll. Most likely this will go through them and I can direct them to get a hold of you. I don’t mind taking over the other things. I’ll even make sure you get payments from it all as well. But until we know what will happen for sure, just lay low. I’ll handle it all for now and keep you two updated when I hear anything. This...is all new to me too so I wish I had more answers,” Michael explained. You had no intention of going out especially when you looked like this. The last thing you wanted was Bucky to be accused of beating you. Usually that’s where blame was held for these things.

You nodded in agreement, sighing. There may just be a light at the end of the tunnel after all. But right now it was just a speck, a little shiny glimmer.

After a bit more talking and catching up, both you and Bucky left and headed back to your place. Now you needed to just find yourself again.

Tag List: @crownstealer @borikenlove @bitchassbucky @babyboibucky @buckybarneschokeme @buckys-blue-eyes @vanillanaps @bibbidibobbidibucky @spicynudlesoup @bemine-bucky @suchababie @kaaabiii @rebekahdawkins @sebsbrokentoe @marvel-3407 @acmbooksandfilm @stucky-my-ship @boofy1998 @valsworldofcreativity @yaszx @21st-century-daydreamer @doll1917 @luxeavenger @hallecarey1 @booktease21 @supernatural-love14 @bookstan0618 @pastamomma @broadwaybabe18 @mybuck

Thena x Autistic reader?? Reader has bad memory, talks at bad times and has tics? Tics that are like random head movements and saying things randomly? Sorry, just tryna make it so I can relate to it if you do end up writing it🏋️‍♀️

Hey! So I’m going to try my best at writing this, but I’ve never done Thena or an autistic reader, nor am I autistic, so if any of this is offensive, I really apologize and please call me out on it!

But here it is! Hope you enjoy it @whyisgam0raa

Let it be Known

Pairing: Thena x autistic! Reader

Warnings: protective Thena, mean Ikaris, overall pretty fluffy

Summary: Thena is very protective over you

You were a part of the Eternals, you could control water and ice. Most of the team liked you, most being everyone but Ikaris, he had something against you, and you weren’t sure what.

One day during a meeting with the team about a problem with the humans, that day your tics were really bad, possibly due to stress from the problem. Your head would make random movements while others were talking, you could tell it was making some people a little annoyed, mainly Ikaris, which made you a little embarrassed but Thena smiling at you from across the table when she saw you were, made that feeling go away.

Ikaris was in the middle of proposing what he thought the solution to the problem was when you blurted out, “the blue on your suit is made from Woad, Isatis tinctoria.” Your hand flew to cover your mouth, knowing Ikaris absolutely hated when you would blurt stuff out at the wrong time due to your tics. He glared at you, and you mumbled an apology. “You know what? Why are you even on this team?!? It’s obvious that your autism is affecting the productivity of this team and you really shouldn’t be on it! Those stupid tics of yours are just causing more problems!” Ikaris was full on yelling at you, but it was just making your head jolt more and more.

Thena jumped up and summoned her sword and shield, “you better shut up now unless you want this in a really uncomfortable place.” He glared at Thena but backed down. You ran off and Thena ran after you, leaving Ikaris to get chewed out by the rest of the team.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s alright, come here,” she moved to comfort you. “Ikaris is just being mean and an ass, it’s not true, I promise.” “I like you, a lot,” you mentally face palmed yourself, why did it have to be at this moment you blurt out your biggest secret. “I’m so sorry,” you quickly stated as soon as you saw Thena’s confused face. “I don’t know why I said that, I mean it’s true, but like you obviously don’t like me back so I probably just ruined our friendship.” You were rambling, you both knew it.

To stop you, Thena leaned over and planted a kiss to your lips, you immediately kissed back. After a little, you both separated, “what was I saying,” you laughed, only half joking. “Oh, just that you’d love to go on a date with me this Friday.” She winked at you, and you blushed, “sounds good to me.”

Good To You - 4.

Ex-boyfriend’s Dad!Mob!Bucky x Reader 

series masterlist 

Run-through: After kicking your exes out of your lives, you and Bucky are enjoying your happy ever after on his private island

Themes: smut, explicit language, age gap, possessive!bucky 

a/n: ah, we’ve reached the end of this totally unexpected series!! Thank you for all your support and love, always! I love you!! 

Looking at you, Bucky couldn’t help but smile. His life was so much better with you in it, and it would only get better and better from here on now. 

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Good To You - 4.

The Auction - Part 2

Mafia!Stucky x F!Reader

3009 Words

Warnings: smut, oral (f!receiving), slight voyeurism, kind of dom!Steve

A/N: Finally done! Not beta’d, barely proofread, sorry for the delay folks, life has been crazy. Enjoy!

You smirked at your sister in the mirror, “Think I should ask him about the murder?”

“Don’t you dare,” Veronica warned, tugging the curling iron a little too hard. “Those guys are bad news, I’m telling you. They can make you just, poof, disappear. I can’t believe you’re going on this date in the first place.”

“What, was I supposed to turn down two thousand dollars for the hospital?”

“No one would have blamed you.” She was pursing her lips in the mirror; you’d annoyed her with your jokes.

“I would have blamed myself. I’ll be fine. Just relax.” She only huffed. “I’m a big girl, Ronnie. And I’ll text you, just like we agreed.”

“When you get there.”

“Yes.”

“When you leave the restaurant.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes.”

“And when you get home.”

“Yes! I got it.”

“Fine.” She set the curling iron down, “Done.”

You fluffed your hair in the mirror, “Thank you.” You reapplied your lipstick and stood, fixing her with a stern gaze, “I don’t want you worrying about me all night. Go do something fun and I’ll be in touch, okay?”

She crossed her arms, “Fine.” 

“I mean it, Veronica. Go home, smoke some weed, chill out. It’s going to be fine.”

She cracked a smile, “If either of them lays a hand on you, I’ll be the one on trial for murder. And you can tell them I said so.”

You laughed, pulling her into a hug, “I’ll make sure to pass that along.”

“Don’t actually,” she muttered as you parted. For a moment, the fear in her face made you doubt your decision, but it was too late to turn back now. Canceling would be worse at this point.

You both left your apartment and you locked the door behind you. You’d lucked out and the restaurant they’d picked was only a block away. No need to get a ride and if things went sour, you could be home quickly.

Adjusting your dress, you gave the host your name and waited to be seated. You sent Veronica the text you’d promised her and at the host’s signal, followed him into the dining area. 

Your heart skipped as he led you into a private dining room. It was lit by honest-to-god candlelight and the table was covered in a rich tablecloth. Seated in two chairs, opposite each other, were Steve Rogers and James Barnes. 

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barry and rafe shipping account only from here on out. they were in love. barry was genuinely afraid of what was happening to rafe. he was pretty much the only one who cared about him

Sebastian Stan/Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Sebastian Stan

Stand Alones:

Play Pretend

Sharing is Caring (also on my Ashton masterlist)

Numbers

Bucky Barnes

Stand Alones:

Tranquil Waters

(Don’t) Leave Me in the Dark

Think of Me

Happiness in Misery

Dinner Games

Multi Parts:

The Falcon and the Newlyweds

I Think I Like You 

‘Til The End of the Line 

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4

Episode 5

Episode 6

Stucky

All Too Well

Lover of Mine

Bucky x Male Stark!Reader

Phantom Pain

Mosaic Broken Hearts

The Curious Case of a Small Kitten

Wrath of an American Soldier

An Avengers Halloween

US Helplines:

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LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255

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Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438

Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673

Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272

Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000

Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253

Child Abuse: 1-800-422-4453

UK Helplines:

Samaritans (for any problem): 08457909090 e-mail jo@samaritans.org

Childline (for anyone under 18 with any problem): 08001111

Mind infoline (mental health information): 0300 123 3393 e-mail: info@mind.org.uk

Mind legal advice (for people who need mental-health related legal advice): 0300 466 6463 legal@mind.org.uk

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b-eat youthline (for under 25’s with eating disorders): 08456347650 (open Mon-Fri 4.30pm - 8.30pm, Saturday 1pm-4.30pm)

Cruse Bereavement Care: 08444779400 e-mail: helpline@cruse.org.uk

Frank (information and advice on drugs): 0800776600

Drinkline: 0800 9178282

Rape Crisis England & Wales: 0808 802 9999 1(open 2 - 2.30pm 7 - 9.30pm) e-mail info@rapecrisis.org.uk

Rape Crisis Scotland: 08088 01 03 02 every day, 6pm to midnight

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Taiwan: 0800-788-995

Thailand: 02-249-9977

Trinidad and Tobago: 868-645-2800

Ukraine: 0487-327715

(Source)

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 | 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗎𝗆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | college!rafe cameron x fem!reader.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | cursing, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, slight sub!brat!rafe, slight dom!reader, rafe’s praise kink if u squint, sexual content basically. 

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | after suddenly vanishing at the party last night, rafe finally comes across y/n again, in one of their shared lectures.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | i had to re-post it bc my dumbass deleted it when i wanted to reblog it :(

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.1k. 

previous part. next part. series masterlist.

Keep reading

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 | 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗎𝗆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | college!rafe cameron x fem!reader.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | cursing, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, slight sub!brat!rafe, slight dom!reader, rafe’s praise kink if u squint, sexual content basically. 

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | after suddenly vanishing at the party last night, rafe finally comes across y/n again, in one of their shared lectures.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | i’m not giving u guys full on smut yet bc i think u guys have to suffer for it first. that, and it would be way too soon. gotta build it up slowly homies <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.1k. 

part zero.  next part.

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I love your Instagram imagines so much! I have a concept with Nawal Sari (nawalsari on Instagram and Pinterest) where Reader is Harry’s best friend and the fans love her so much and she always interacts with them and stuff? No pressure though! 💕

i love love LOVE this request !!! i hope you enjoy, i had a blast making it !

you can send me ideas for ig blurbs here (and feel free to talk to me about anything)

masterlist | don’t forget to like and reblog please !!

liked by harrystyles, gemmastyles and 19,716 others

yourinstagram NIGHT ONE OF LOVE ON TOUR IM NOT READY

view all 156 comments

harryfan1 THE PRETTIESTTT

harryfan2 WILL YOU BE IN THE PIT TONIGHT?

↳ yourinstagram BET I WILL

jefezoff Stole the show already

↳ yourinstagram ikr fire harry and make me the front man of the tour

harrystyles 🙄🙄

↳ yourinstagram jealous because everybody likes me better, I KNOW

liked by pillowpersonpp, harrystyles and 25,670 others

yourinstagram HONTENT FOR MY HARRIES TO WARM UP FOR THE SHOW HERE’S AN UNSEEN

view all 394 comments

harryfan1 SHES THE BEST

harryfan2 SHES ALWAYS GIVING US CONTENT

harrystyles Stop leaking my stuff, plase.

↳ yourinstagram stfu and go get ready you have fans to please

↳ harryfan3 IM CRYING

liked by annetwist, pillowpersonpp and 20,867 others

yourinstagram ugh he can’t live without me

view all 245 comments

harryfan1 will you be there for the ny shows ??

↳ yourinstagram OF COURSE BESTIE

jefezoff Thing One and Thing Two 😂

↳ yourinstagram whatever you say cat in the hat

harrystyles You irk me

↳ yourinstagram NOT THE OLD MAN WORDS 😭

↳ harryfan2 i love them so much bye

liked by gemmastyles, pillowpersonpp and 21,430 others

yourinstagram IM BACKKK SEE YOU ALL IN THE CHERRY PIT TONIGHT

view all 169 comments

harryfan1 HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE

annetwist Have fun 😍

↳ yourinstagram love you mom

harryfan2 she travelled all the way from LA to be there tonight i’m going to cry

↳ yourinstagram shhh don’t say it out loud harry is going to think he’s special

↳ harrystyles Heyyyyyyyyy

↳ harryfan2 WHAT JUST HAPPENED

liked by mitchrowland, harrystyles and 22,509 others

yourinstagram even tho he annoys me most of the times, this dude has been my best friend for eleven years now and i just can’t imagine my life without him, and i’m beyond proud of him 🥺

in 24 hours i’m going to delete this caption and put that he’s a pest tho

view all 208 comments

harryfan1 CRYING

harryfan2 MY FAVORITE DUO

jefezoff 😂😂

harrystyles Aww, you’re cute xx

↳ yourinstagram you’re okay ig

harryfan4 i want what yn has

This blog is a safe space.

Nazis, TERFs, pedophiles, bigots, Tr*mp supporters, facists, Islamophobes, exclusionists, queerphobes, and anyone who can’t reblog this post, etc, do not interact. I will block you.

Hello honey bunnies !!! I don’t know if you are comfortable writing it but I would really love to request some Mreader x Yelena I didn’t find any on Tumblr nor ao3🙃

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Male!reader

Warnings: character death mention, angst, mourning

Word count: 600

a/n: yes i made this angst i will do so whenever given the chance 👍

!-!-!-!-!-!

Opposing the classic stereotype, it didn't rain when Y/N and Yelena visited Nat's grave for the first time. In fact, it was as clear as a day could possibly get. Not a single cloud speckled the bright blue skies, and the gentle breeze was not too strong nor was it absent.

If not given the current circumstances, Y/N and Yelena would've taken advantage of the sunny day to go out for a run with their dog, Fanny, or gone out on a picnic date. But, of course, they could not.

The two walked, side-by-side and in silence up the path, treaded upon so many times it was clear to see and find in the somewhat tall grass. Y/N glanced at Yelena, fighting the sudden urge to grab ahold of her slightly trembling hand. She kept her gaze ahead, frown growing the closer they got to the two trees where her sister lay, tilted away from each other to form a 'V' shape.

Several other graves lay scattered around Nat's, but it was clear none had been as visited as hers. The grave, freshly embedded into the soil, was crowned by flowers and surrounded by more. A few teddy bears, candles, and pictures could be seen among it all, as well. Y/N's stomach clenched, and his gaze immediately snapped towards Yelena. Not to his surprise, she kept as straight a face as possible. Everything in her face, apart from a deep, pained frown, seemed emotionless.

They got to the grave and while Y/N sat down before it, Yelena crouched and got to tidying the clutter. Moving pictures and bouquets around, she revealed the words carved into the lower part of the stone.

Daughter - Sister - Avenger

Y/N's words got caught in his throat. If there had even been any, in the first place. So he watched wordlessly until she felt she was done and moved back to sit beside him.

Y/N searched for the right words, distantly wondering if he should even speak at all. Before he could decide, Yelena beat him to it.

"Two years," she said, voice wavering. She pressed her palm to the soil, eyebrows pinching in barely held-back anguish. "I had her back for two years."

Y/N sighed and finally decided to take her free hand into his own. She squeezed it tightly, head dipping. Definitely not for the first time, his pain for Yelena grew when he recalled she'd been blipped, taking from her five whole years to spend with her sister.

"Two years to make up for almost a lifetime," she said, frustration seeping into her tone. Her hand trembled in Y/N's.

"I know," he whispered, moving closer to her, shoulders pressed together. "I know."

"She didn't- She never got to retire. To live out the rest of her life without being an Avenger or worrying about saving the world or-" her voice gave out, and Y/N didn't need to see the tears building up in her eyes to know she was about to break.

He twisted around and pulled her against him. And although he was uncomfortable and his side was straining with the awkward position, he let her cling to him.

"I'm sorry," now it was Y/N's turn to tear up. It was so unfair. He could remember as if it were yesterday how thrilled Yelena had been after finding her sister again. And now she had lost her all over again. For good this time.

After a while, Yelena rested her head on his shoulder, gazing tiredly at the gravestone.

"She loved you so much, you know that, right?" Y/N murmured after pressing a gentle, long kiss on her temple.

"I know," she said. "I know."

---

a/n: fun fact i cried harder during the post-credit scene for this movie than i did watching marley and me 👍

It’s Jeff: Infinity Comic #2 (2021)

written by Kelly Thompson art by Gurihiru

Mob!Henry x Reader Mini-Series Masterlist (COMPLETED)

Plot:  The one where we get a sneak peek of different moments of the life of Henry Cavill, the head of the biggest and oldest mob in Europe. And the woman who owns his heart.

[A/N: This is not a chronological series. We are basically seeing glimpses (one shots) of what it’s like to be Henry’s little mobwife.]

Keep reading

natasha romanoff x ftm!reader

request: Can you write a wanda or Natasha x ftm reader fic? I don’t really see any of them

A/N: got another request for specifically wanda x ftm!reader so i’m doing nat for this! she’s so freaking cute 😭

gif from @santa-xx

- no one expected you and natasha to get together

- including you

- she really intimidated you at first

- although she didn’t talk to you much, she enjoyed watching you as you ambled around the tower. she’s a spy, after all

- with your flannels, your bright eyes, and your adorable smile

- you were like a dog

- (i mean in the best way possible, you’re cute you don’t smell like wet dog)

- natasha couldn’t help but feel warm when she saw your charming smile

- and she always laughed at your jokes

- you were usually a goofy, friendly, happy energy around the tower

- and natasha didn’t realize just how much she enjoyed having you around until there was a day devoid of you

- she casually asked clint where you were and he was like “🤨 girl ur bf isn’t here today”

- and he received a glare from her. “just bc we’re two friends who are the opposite gender doesn’t mean we’re a couple, sexist asshole”

- go off bae

- but ummm she did have a crush on you so she went off for no reason

- clint’s a literal spy so he can tell that you guys like each other. he wanted you two to get tf together so he let her in on the fact that you were stowed away in your room today

- she gave him on last glare before leaving for your room. you were laying in bed, under a ton of blankets

- she gave you the cutest little smile :> and tilted her head. “found you.”

- she was surprised when you invited her into bed. you looked so wholesome and tired; she couldn’t refuse. she was laying on her side with her face to yours, her hands tucked under her cheek

- god she was cute. the way she looked at you made your heart swell

- when she asked what had you laying in bed all day, you explained that you felt really dysphoric

- she sighed sympathetically and asked if there was anything she could do

- all you wanted was cuddles tbh

- so you shuffled closer and nuzzled your head into the crook of her neck

- and she hoped you couldn’t hear her heart speed up

- eventually she got more comfortable and started playing with your hair, absolutely glowing when you made little happy noises

- after that, her crush on you got even worse. she couldn’t believe she was letting her emotions get the best of her. she was usually more professional, and she never wanted to complicate things if one of you got hurt, but she had never felt this way before

- she just couldn’t stay away. you were more important than any mission, any concerns about professionalism or detachment—anything

- you two often went on walks in the evening and got take out. usually one of you got sleepy, and you took the food back to one of your rooms, and ate it while watching tv and laughing with each other

- you painted each other’s nails

- and helped each other pick out outfits

- (ur a very bi4bi couple—sorry if ur not bi but that’s a very self insert hc for me)

- you made her feel normal, happy, giddy. around you, she forgot her worries and could completely be herself

- and god she was cute when she was in pj’s in your bed, giggling until she snorted, her hair in a messy braid

- your first kiss happened after you were laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe, and you simmered down, and you were gazing at her like she was the best thing in the world

- and all she could think was “i love you”

- and you leaned in, and it just felt natural

- you guys are so cute cause ur her golden retriever bf and she’s the badass “i’ll hurt u if u hurt him” gf

- especially if someones transphobic

- she’ll beat their ass

- she didn’t love pda, but kissing each other hello or goodbye became habit at some point

- so one morning when you went into the kitchen, and she was buttering toast, you gave her a quick peck

- i mean how could she resist. you had this sleepy smile on your face and your hair was all messy

- and the members of the team that were in the kitchen were like ummmmm qué?

- she glared and pointed her butter knife at them. “don’t,” she snapped

- clint was about to absolutely burst with i told you so’s, but even he was a little scared of what nat could do with just a butter knife, so he kept quiet

- but his face was so smug anyway

- ufhfhhff whenever u fall asleep on the couch, she puts a blanket over you and kisses your forehead <3

- you’re the only person that can make her flustered or feel shy

- you don’t even realize you do

- when you kiss her cheek in passing and she has that tiny fond smile

- or you hug her from behind and her words fumble and she can’t even remember how to talk

- y’all are just so sweet and open with each other

- she comforts you when you feel dysphoric

- she talks to you about her worries that she would never tell anyone else

- y’all are SOULMATES the end

🌵 – Tommy's younger sister accompanies him to London and finds Ollie cute ? 🤣🤣 You don't have to do that of course haha just some random idea and omg I've never requested a shelby sister before!!

smallheathgangster's 1.6k celebration (finished)

this is my last celebration ask! thanks to everyone who participated! it was so much fun, especially this last drabble! thanks lily!! 💛

Tommy had already promised you around a hundred times, that he’d take you to a business meeting, since you’d wished for it on your eighteenth birthday. Of course, Tommy did not hold his word and he never let you accompany him, always making up an excuse about it being too dangerous, not the right type of meeting or too far away from Small Heath.

It’s been more than two years now and you decided, you would make your wish come true on my own. You had heard your brother mentioning to Polly, that he’d be driving to Camden Town the next day to have a conversation with Alfie Solomons. And because you already expected him to say no if you asked him to come along, you did what any other grown-up, very mature twenty-one-year-old would do. On the morning of Tommy’s departure, you climbed into the back seat of his car, just a few minutes earlier, hiding, so he would not spot you when getting into the vehicle himself.

You knew, you had to wait for him to be too far away from Birmingham, or else he would turn around and bring you back. So, you stayed hidden in the foot space behind the two front seats, until you could see the high-rise buildings of London through the car window. Then, you quickly popped up, looking directly at Tommy through the rear-view mirror.

“Fuck!”

The car swerved, nearly hitting another driving in the opposite direction.

“Woah, watch out,” you said, obviously trying to act as annoying as possible.

Tommy was not amused.

Tommy was not amused at all by your presence. And especially not by the way you had surprised him.

“Bloody hell, what is wrong with you?!”

You shrugged. “Do you remember my birthday wish?”

Tommy frowned angrily. “I told you, I’d take you with me at some point!”

“It’s been two years, Tom,” you remarked reproachfully.

You watched him grit his teeth. Hard.

The rest of the journey he ignored you, until he arrived at his destination. “You’re staying in the car.”

“No, I want to–”

“I said, you’re staying in the car. I don’t want to have you in the same room as Solomons, eh?,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows as he spoke.

You swallowed heavily. Angered by your brother’s behaviour.

Fine, hiding in the back seat of his car to scare him to death hadn’t been very smart. But, what options were left, anyway?

Still, you believed it would be best to listen to Tommy and stay in the automobile, until he was finished.

While time passed, you stared out of the window, observing the large back-alley door, behind which your brother had disappeared. Suddenly, it opened again. A handsome man with dark, curly hair stepped out onto the street. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with a match.

You couldn’t stop looking at the stranger. You noticed him wearing a kippah, confirming that he must be one of Alfie’s men. You knew Tommy would not be happy with you for eyeing him, but he was just so pretty.

Then, he finally looked up, giving you a perfect view of his blue eyes. You adored blue eyes, perhaps because it ran in your family and knowing how rare they were.

He spotted you sitting in the car, sending you a kind smile. You smiled back and shyly waved at him. Just when you thought he was about to approach you, the large door opened once again and, unfortunately, your brother stepped out.

He brushed past the gorgeous Jew and jumped back into the car.

“Who’s that?” you immediately asked.

“Hm?”

“The one with the curly hair,” you explained. “Who is he?”

Tommy’s eyes moved to the man leaning against the dusty wall. “Ollie. Alfie’s assistant, if one likes to put it that way.”

“How old is he?”

“Why?” he questioned irritated.

You grinned and looked back at Ollie. “He’s cute.”

“Oh, for god’s sake, shut up,” Tommy exclaimed and started the motor, driving off as quickly as possible.

reading this was more cathartic than expected

Be Silenced (Marvel long one-shot)

A/n: So, I've been thinking about this for a while now and thought that I'd put it down and see what you guys think. This is about THIS post from yesterday and this is just a small bit about what came to mind over the past 24 hours. Let me know what you guys think!! Also, I couldn't find a gif that I had in my mind, so I just decided to use this one. It's a bit longer than I expected and of course I am willing to do a part 2 if anyone wants one...

This does come with a warning though...

Warning: dark themes, death, mentions of concentration camps, mistreating people, complete disregard of human rights, please proceed with caution because it is a bit dark...

They all thought HYDRA was bad until the next mission came along. This new organization takes human experimentation to the next level. Levels that make the entire team cringe or make their rage rise. The last they have heard of anything like this was in World War II.

The place is like a concentration camp and they can't bear to think if the living conditions for these human experiments are similar to that of those unfortunate souls that suffered in the past, or if it's at least slightly better.

After their cover is blown, they know that this is no better than what they were hoping for because, after a few shouts, there are multiple gunshots and screams. The team knows that they have to move fast if they want to save any lives.

When things have calmed down, the team is disappointed to realize that they failed. "You can't win them all," Steve says, but everyone knows he's just as angry that they didn't win this fight as they all are.

It's even worse to go through the slaughter, the attempt to hide what this new organization had been doing. Multiple bodies lie dead in their cramped beds, blood soaking the floor. It's a sight that no one wants to see.

Whatever kind of experiments these people were doing, they obviously had their favorites. In the inner circle of the camp, the bunkers aren't so cramped with unfortunate souls. But they weren't too precious to be spared.

Bucky looks around the one bunker, one of the better ones, one that has only four beds, and he swallows past the hard lump in his throat. At the foot of the door is the soldier he had shot dead, hoping to spare those inside this bunker. But it looks like he failed that.

Steve walks up behind him, breathes out a long, burdened sigh, and drops his head between his shoulder. "No survivors here," he speaks into the earpiece. Even though there's silence over the comms, both Bucky and Steve can hear the heartbreak from the team.

Before the two supersoldiers leave, Bucky notices something. "Wait," he whispers, frowning at the one bed in the corner. "Steve," he calls, walking closer to the bed to take a closer look. "This bed is clean. Not a drop of blood on it."

But it looks like there's a body under the covers.

Steve, now seeing what Bucky's getting at, steps closer. Hope is in the air. Maybe there's a survivor after all.

Bucky pulls the covers away. The body had been made up of pillows and a bunch up sheet that would have covered the bed. The fact that there's no body makes Steve and Bucky share a look. Steve reaches up to his earpiece. "Keep a lookout. We might have an escaped survivor."

But Bucky shakes his head. He didn't see anyone leave after taking down the soldier at the door. They have to still be in this bunker. His eyes lift up, and he sees that there's a gap between the bed and the wall. A gap that none of the other beds have. They're all pushed flush against the wall.

Reaching down to the frame of the bed with his bionic arm, he pulls it further away from the wall. And sure as hell, there's a figure curled up in the corner.

Your head snaps up to them, your eyes wide, and your body shaking. And yet, there's not a trace of fear on your face. You have your arms wrapped around your legs and you stare up at the two men standing in front of you.

The sight of you isn't what Steve and Bucky were expecting even after everything they had seen today. From the muzzle wrapped tightly around your mouth to the feeding tube running into your nose, they know they can't begin to imagine what you've been through.

Bucky steps forward, kneels down in front of you, and slowly holds out his hand to you. He can't think of anything he can say to you now to make you feel better because, truth be told, you look worse than he's ever looked while with HYDRA. Not to mention that with the muzzle on your face, he knows you can't say anything in return. All he can do is offer you a smile.

And it's enough for you to place your hand in his and allow him to pick you up off the floor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They all nod.

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

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

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

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