#father!bucky x reader

[kiritella]

Red as Iron

Parings: Dad.Bucky x Daughter.Reader

Warnings: Blood.

Words: 1.0k

Type: beautiful and angsty

______________________

“Hello? Bucky said, tucking the phone he answered between his shoulder and ear. A small smile peeked on his face as he looked away from the files on his desk, staring instead out the window of his office.

“Hey, dad,” Y.n said, though her voice was hard to hear.  She was probably on speakerphone again while she was working. He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Are you busy?”

“Nope,” he said, flipping closed the file on his desk and holding the phone properly in his hands. “What’s going on?”

There was a pause, and he furrowed his brows. “What did you do?” he asked, teasing.

A chuckle. “Why is it you think I did something wrong?” she asked.

“Well,” he started, “You called me while I’m at work, and you got home from school only…” he glanced at his watch, “Dang, didn’t you just get home?”

“Pshh. Can’t I just call my dad and tell him I love him?” she said, and Bucky grinned.

“Well, I mean, you can,” he said.

She laughed quietly. “Well, I am. I see how much faith you have in me.”

“Hey, c’mon, I have faith in you!” he objected. “You just like to test that faith sometimes!”

“Sure, sure.” She paused again, a sigh on her end and he began to wonder. She must have had a hard day to be calling like this. If she had to call him at work, she tried to be quick about it so it wouldn’t distract him or get him in trouble. He had tried to tell her he wouldn’t get in trouble considering the work he did, but she always insisted. 

“We just had something come up in history class today, and it made me think of you,” she said. “You really are amazing…and I’m really lucky you’re my dad. I love you.”

Bucky’s heart swelled in his chest as a slow smile spread on his lips, smothering the mental exhaustion from the work he had to do. “I love you too, Sweetheart.”

“I was thinking of that time in the park when I was like…4? Maybe, no–I must have been 5. You…you picked me up on your shoulders and ran around while I was pretending to fly.”

“You remember that?” Bucky asked, surprised.

“And then how you’d…” she sighed. “You’d always give me the benefit of the doubt, and let me cuddle up in your arms when I was little, and you always give me hugs…” another sigh.  “I like your hugs.  They’re warm.” 

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head a little. “I’ll give you one when I get home…”

“You’d better,” she said with a short laugh. “I–” she stopped and Bucky looked at his phone when she didn’t continue. The connection was fine.

“Hello? You there?” he asked.

“Yeah, sorry. I just love you, I guess…and I wanted you to know that,” she said, and Bucky’s heart melted.

“I love you too, sweetie. Gosh, you’re making me emotional,” Bucky said, adding a bit of teasing at the end. She was his baby girl. He didn’t understand the depth of connection a person could have to another until he held her in his arms for the first time.

“Hey, being emotional isn’t a bad thing sometimes,” she said and he hummed in agreement. “I have to go and finish homework now, so…I’ll talk to you later?”

“Alright,” he said, “I’ll finish up here and bring home pizza for dinner, okay?”

“That sounds amazing.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, dad…”

“Bye.”

“...Goodbye.” Y.n stayed on the line until she heard the click of his phone as he hung up and the sound of a disconnected line followed.  Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks and dripped from her skin.  The droplets joined a pool of crimson red on the floor, swirling in spirals together until all that was left was a lighter shade of her blood.  She gasped for breath as she glanced over to her cellphone, 911 still open on speakerphone as the home landline rested in her hands with a loud beeping coming from its empty line.  

“...The ambulance is just another minute away,” came a choked voice from her cellphone. His voice was desperate. “Hang in there.”

“I’m hanging on…” she said as her head lolled to the side, resting against her shoulder. Pain radiated from her side where her hands covered a deep wound—a couple of deep wounds— Jagged and torn open from a knife plunged into her flesh in a panic. Red covered her side, her fingers, the floor beneath her and she choked on her breath, coughing. The taste of iron spilled on her tongue, dripping from the corner of her lips. 

The living room became dark as though hidden in an immense black fog. Several things were out of place, a lamp shattered on the floor from where the side table had fallen over. A vase. She followed the trail of blood from where she lay against the wall to the center of the room where another pool of blood laid with a chilling realism. She closed her eyes as the room began to spin, and she tried to force another breath in, but cried as it entered her lungs. Her hands shook, though she realized now they were incredibly cold.  She was freezing.

I like your hugs…they’re warm.

Another tear rolled down her skin. “Daddy?” a sharp breath, a sob. She waited as the sound of a disconnected line beeped over and over and over. The sound grew closer as her body slid from the wall, meeting the wooden floor in a final cold embrace. “Daddy?!”  The landline laid in front of her, and she stared at it as the rest of the room disappeared from her mind as a swash of black and gray. It was her only response, her only comfort. She cried at how distant it was. Beeeep, beeeeep, beeeeeeep.

“Daddy?!”

“The ambulance is right there,” the police dispatcher said, urging her to keep it together.

Beeeeeeeep. Beeeeeeeeeeeep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

“Brooklyn Fire Department…We’re coming in!”

Beeeeeeeeeep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee—

___________________________

Part two

___________________________

Forever Tags: [Add Yourself to the Taglist Here!]

@thelovelydreamer17​  @bugsbucky​​

A.N: I went through and removed all accounts that were deactivated and broken links from the taglist.

[astxrwar]

"can we talk about 40s bucky" no. "can we talk about bucky in his 40s" yes. send tweet

[buckyownsmylife]

Crash & Burn - Chapter 3

The one where Bucky is your father best friend, and the man you want to take your virginity.

Bucky is losing everything: his wife, his business, his house. And when his best friend is too busy to offer him the support he needs, you offer him your ear and shoulder. He wouldn't find it too bad that getting closer to you made him see you with new eyes, if it wasn't for the one thing you asked in return: you want him to be the first man to ever fuck you.

For general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Bucky? Oh, thank God?” Eyebrows furrowed, I immediately sat up straighter on the bed, instinctively reaching for my car keys once I detected the panic in her voice. “I… I hate to disturb you, I know it’s pretty late but…”

“Text me the address,” I interrupted her, scrambling off the bed and almost falling on my face in the process. I made a mental note - don’t try to put on sweatpants while on the phone with someone, but for now, this would have to do. “Do you want me to stay in line with you while I drive?”

My heart was pounding as I waited for her answer. I could hear the sounds of the party she’d gone to in the distance, but it was muffled - like she was hiding from it behind a door or something.

“I’d like that.” Silently thanking the heavens for her answer, I rushed to get to the house she was in as quickly as possible. I would have trusted her safety if she’d chosen to hang up, but that didn’t mean my mind wouldn’t race. I was used to jumping to the worst conclusions, and this particular situation didn’t exactly help me reason with my anxieties.

A loud crash came from the other line, startling me as I put on my seatbelt. “Are you okay?” It took her a little while and the most adorable giggle preceded her answer.

“Yeah… I just stumbled and fell over a plant. But she’s okay, I guess.” I could just picture her, petting the leaves of the greenery she’d accidentally disturbed. God, she was adorable.

“Are you drunk?” It suddenly occurred to me, and I was already chuckling by the time her “Please, don’t tell my dad” came. “Honey, you’re in grad school. Your dad won’t care if you had a couple of drinks on a Friday night.”

“Oh, right!” Shaking my head, I focused on the intersection I was about to cross while making a mental note to talk to her about how much she drank tomorrow. I really didn’t care about her consuming alcohol - she was a grown-up, after all - but she should never get drunk near people she didn’t trust, and it seemed like this had been precisely what had happened tonight.

“Are you close?” I considered the route the app was showing me.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon.” She seemed to calm down at my answer, but that was only until someone started to bang on the door I assumed behind which she was hiding.

“C’mon, baby! I know you’re in there. Come out, let’s have some fun together.” My palms were sweaty as I gripped the stirring wheel tighter, grinding my teeth at her sharp inhale of breath. I hated that she was scared because of some dumb boy and there was nothing I could do about it…

Yet.

“Hold on…” I muttered under my breath, knowing she’d never heard me over the ruckus he was causing. If only this car could move faster…

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I tried to make myself smaller, hoping the wall would somehow swallow me and hide me from the guy on the other side of the door. If I’d known this is what Peter would become with a few beers in him, I’d never have agreed to come to this party in the first place.

I could already feel a headache forming and I wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow morning. I knew I would wake up hungover and most definitely regretful of every decision that led to this moment, but for now, all I could care about was that Bucky was coming and he’d take me far, far away from this evening and everything that had happened.

“Please, be quick…” I whispered, clutching my phone against my chest as I watched Peter fumble with the knob until suddenly, he stopped.

It all stopped, actually. His yells, the sounds of the music from outside, it all came to a screeching halt and my heart sped up in anticipation as I approached the door with careful steps.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Yep, that was James. Feeling safe enough to open the door now, I unlocked it and spied the outside, finding the party had stopped to watch the much older gentleman who’d suddenly appeared give the owner of the house his ass on a silver platter. “No means fucking no, haven’t you ever learned that?”

He turned around and his eyes met mine, almost as if he’d noticed me staring. But if I was hoping for my presence to ease his anger somewhat, it seemed to have the opposite effect, completely.

“What did he do?” It took a minute for my inebriated mind to make sense of what he was asking, but once I did, I didn’t know how to answer it.

“I can’t repeat the kind of stuff he said.” I shook my head emphatically, refusing to relive the haunting things Peter had whispered in my ear once he’d cornered me into a room. I watched as he had the guts to try to defend himself, only to shut his mouth with a glance from the man in the room.

“I’m not talking to you.” It was all he said, and Peter immediately cowered. A shudder ran down my spine at the roughness in his tone of voice, but I wasn’t scared. “Was it dirty?” Again, it took me a few seconds.

“There’s dirty and then there’s just straight down nasty.” I shrugged, trying to fake nonchalance even though the mere memory of what Peter had said made me want to hide my face behind my hands. But I was an adult - Bucky had said so himself.

I shouldn’t be hiding, so I didn’t.

Bucky leaned closer to Peter, taking advantage of the grip he still had on his shirt. I hadn’t even noticed it until their noses were all but touching. “If I ever even imagine she’s had to put up with any shit from you anymore, I’ll make you wish you were never even born. Got it?”

Oh, wow. That was hot.

I didn’t even notice the giggles all around us - or the frown on Bucky’s face. All I could focus on was how warm his hand felt when it clasped around my wrist, right before he started tugging me towards the exit.

“Let’s go.”

[pinkiebieberpie]

no thoughts, just bucky being a father of his few days old baby 🥺 he would be so excited about becoming a father, he would take care of you during pregnancy and 100% be with you during birth of your child. he would be so proud of you, telling you how strong and amazing you are. also bucky as a father would be so respectful to you as a mother, he knows that you just gave a birth and you are tired, he is doing mostly everything with your baby and you can rest. friends of yours are jealous because they would kill for that helpful husband. he just loves being a dad, you and your daughter are his whole world 💓 oh and he would be so soft and gentle with you when you two get intimate for the first time after your daughter is born!!! "are you okay, baby?", "i'm not hurting you, right?", "god, you are so pretty"

moodboards + blurbs masterlist

[reginaphalange2403]

The hiding an injury trope always hits the fucking mark for me. Like character A trying to not make it noticeable all day cause they don’t wanna be a bother or they want to appear tough, and then B finding it and being pissedTM at first but then soft and comforting about it PLSSS that’s the sweet spot😣💓

Somebody write one for me🧍‍♀️

[valleyfae]

Stucky being readers' father figures 🥺

Oh gosh 🥺🥺

Even though Bucky is exceptionally soft and comforting, he is more overprotective of you. That doesn't mean Steve isn't protective, but if anyone comes in harm's way, it triggers something in Bucky, and he makes sure the person knows how sorry they will be if they try something again and cross the line.

Steve is heavy on words of affirmation, and his deep voice is always reassuring, while Bucky's favorite thing is to hold you securely against his chest and comfort you.

They spend as much quality time with you as possible. Bucky pets your back as you nuzzle against his chest while sitting in his lap while Steve reads their favorite books from the 40s. As well as the three of you cuddling up on the couch together, watching films from the 40s.

They are the best mentors and protectors and just :(

[atlasscrumpit]

Father Bucky / Young reader

Steve received an odd text at 6:13am.

'I need your help, Steve. Meet me at this location. :location shared:'

Steve stared at it for a while trying to think who it could be. His number was encrypted and impossible to find.

He showed Tony and they agreed to go out to the location, with weapons... Just in case.

When they arrived they found it was an abandoned bus stop half an hour out of the city.

And to their surprise when they pulled up they found James Barnes of all people, with a child around five years old cuddled up next to him.

Bucky looked rough, his hair and beard longer.

"Steve." He said as he grabbed your hand and rushed towards Steve and hugged him tightly.

"Buck? What's going on? How are you here?" He asked as Bucky did his best to not cry while he hugged his best friend.

"I didn't know what else to do. I could've kept running my entire life, but I won't let it happen to her." Bucky said as he pulled away and Steve looked down at you.

He smiled and kneeled down to your eye level.

"Hi, sweetheart. What's your name?" He said as you held onto Bucky's hand and looked up to him for reassurance, he smiled and nodded to you letting you know Steve was safe.

"I'm Y/N." You said as he smiled.

"Well, it's wonderful to meet you. I'm Steve." He replied as you smiled a little.

"Let's get you guys out of here, how does that sound?" Steve asked as you nodded.

Tony opened the car for you and Bucky to sit in the back.

Bucky helped to seatbelt you in and you looked around the expensive car.

"Daddy, where are we going?" You asked as Bucky looked at you.

"Somewhere safe, darling. You don't need to be afraid." He reassured you as you nodded and held onto his hand.

"How old are you, sweetie?" Tony asked, looking at you through the rear view mirror.

"I'm turning five next month." You replied making them smile.

"Well, we'll have to make sure you have a very special birthday."

--

They finally arrived back at the tower and you had fallen asleep on Bucky.

He carried you out of the car and followed them into the tower.

"So, is she your kid?" Tony asked as Bucky nodded.

"Yeah... It's a long story." He muttered sadly as they nodded.

"Let's get her into a bed." Steve said as they made it up to one of the higher floors where the rooms were.

Bucky laid you down on the bed and tucked you in.

"Let's talk in the room across the hall, that way we're still close to her." Tony said they nodded and followed him into the next room.

Bucky sat on the bed and sighed deeply.

"I'm so sorry to do this, but I couldn't keep running. I promised I would keep her safe and that's what I plan to do." Bucky whispered as he looked down, they could tell how exhausted he was.

"How about we talk about all of this later? You go rest with the kid." Tony replied making Bucky smile softly.

He entered your room and curled up beside you where you instantly cuddled into him.

He closed his eyes and hugged you tightly to his chest while you slept peacefully.

[bisexuawolfsalt]

anybody have some good Father!Bucky fics?

[imaginedreamwrite]

Like My Father: Part 9

Ari had caressed the expanse of your arm from shoulder to wrist, his fingers softly trailing the goosebumps that rose to your flesh while his eyes conveyed every single emotion he was feeling.

Every single pulse of desire and connectivity that has spanned your relationship from the moment you had learned he would be yours, had only deepened in the soft moments on the dimmed dance floor.

He was there, always there.

Just as he was here now, mumbling aesthetically while your head resting on his chest and his heart beat a rhythm that was endearing as it was beautiful.

“You’re brilliant and capable, little princess.” It was only Ari who addressed you like that, it was only Ari who had ever called you his little princess.

“I’m scared, Ari.” With eyes on you and Ari, watchful gazes that were either condescending or curious, you had felt the flickering touch of fear seeping into your flesh.

It was innate, the feeling that you would fail and although Ari promised that if you failed you would fail together, your anxiety and panic-inducing negative tracts told you that you would be alone.

“I know,” he hadn’t denied your fear or even attempt to be condescending about how you were feeling, “you’re not doing this alone. You have all of us, every one of us is here for you.”

“Always?” You wondered, tilting your head to look up at him. “Forever?”

“Until my heart stops beating,” Ari grasped your hand and set it on his chest, right where his heart was, “and until I take my last breath.”

After Ari had departed from you, after you had danced with them all at least once, Andy had found you again.

His hand was warm as it settled upon your back, his eyes brightly captivating your own as he led you from the dance floor to the bar that had been set up. There were already drinks waiting for you, champagne in tall flute glasses with gold dust coating the stem that was set upon fine crystal.

Andy had been the one to escort you and he had been the last you’d danced with, the last of the six alphas who had kept you away from the rest of the party aiming to dance solely with you.

You were aware of the connotations of the party and the people you would have to meet and converse with, to gain new allies and keep the ones your father already had. You would have to mingle and sashay around the crowds to convince them that you were the best person for the job, even if you had felt unsure of it yourself.

“A drink,” Andy had grabbed one of the gold-dusted flutes and handed it to you, his hand was softly and daintily caressing your flesh through your dress while his eyes had bore into yours, “you’re doing amazing.”

“You think so?” You lifted the glass to your lips and sipped on the bubbly within, and then you had angled yourself into Andy.

Your gaze had flitted around the party, watching others drinking and eating in the merriment of the grand event your parents had thrown for you to usher you into the role.

You would be the first omega to take on the head of the empire your father had inherited and built, the first omega who wasn’t married off to form alliances. You didn’t have to go to them, alphas had come to you.

They had been chosen for you by your parents, the best kind of alphas to help shield and protect you as you took on this new role.

And as you were taking your position as the head of the crime family, your father was retiring.

“You should give yourself more credit, you’re ready for this.” Andy’s hand produced warmth that crawled up your back, his eyes burning deep into yours as he held your gaze and leaned in.

His chest had been pressed against yours, the softness of his suit against your skin that was exposed was delightful and had produced a soft shiver. You pressed into him with your palms resting against his chest and angled your head back, brushing your nose against his. You could feel his warm breath dusting across your cheeks, and the sensation of close intimacy between the two of you had deepened with every passing moment that he held your gaze and you held his.

Andy’s baritone hum had delivered another surge of warmth to your core and the gentle scrape of his beard against you as he slated his lips against yours caused a surge of electricity between the two of you.

His lips danced against yours, his left hand cupped your chin and the other had smoothed down the back of your dress to the curve of your ass. You stood flush against him, inhaling his scent that radiates and blanketed you in comfort and desire.

“Tomorrow,” Andy swallowed your whine and pulled away slowly, tapping his thumb against your bottom lip, “we’re going to go over some legal stuff.”

“And tonight?” You wondered, searching his eyes.

“Have fun, sweetheart.” Andy let go of you and then reached for his champagne flute, downing the bubbly and setting it back down with a gentle tsk of the flat bottom against the bar top. “Tomorrow we’ll work.”

You watched him walk away, your hand still wrapped around the stem of the glass while you stood and watched the crowds of people mingling. There was a certain air of expectations that still lingered as a fog worked and swept across the floor. Some were still anticipating a sudden and blinding move your father could make, by announcing that you were mated off and the business would go to your mate.

Others had been caught up to reality and knew that you were the leader and you would be taking over from your father without being thrown at an alpha under the role of subservient housewife.

Disgust had riddled some bitterness while appreciation for the change of designation leadership was held by others.

It had seemed that instead of a spectrum their opinions had died on, it was a single strand with two opposing ends fighting against the other.

Some would love you to be the leader; others would want you dead.

“There’s no in-between, not now. You need to show them one way or another. You can succeed and they will love you or they will want to kill you.” Nick’s forewarning was present, he had told you on multiple occasions that you would be a target in some way or another.

You had stood alone for another moment before you departed the bar, your champagne half drank and abandoned, while you had begun weaving in out of the crowds to cross the room. The heady mix of scents and the watchful eyes that followed you as you moved throughout the room had truly heightened your need for air and an escape.

You needed to feel the cool rush of fresh air against you so you could gather your thoughts and find your grounding again. It was innately hitting you all at once, the feel of your alphas somewhere in the room that were aware of you just as you were aware of them, and the careful scrutinization others had cast on you.

In no small measure had you burst through the doors that led to the garden and at no slow pace had you scurried away from the party.

The cool brush of air against your flesh was what you needed and you could already feel yourself starting to relax as the potent cluster of different scents and designations had been pilfered by the natural aroma of flowers and greenery that was planted in the back. It was the various colours of the fauna that had been carefully crafted and pruned to look as perfect as possible for this event that had garnered your attention.

You had stepped onto the pad of the seating area between overhanging trees and colourful buds which were illuminated by delicate hanging lights before you approached one of the hand-carved wooden swings that hung between two thick corded trunks, the bench seat decorated with elaborate pillows and a sherpa blanket for warmth.

It was out here that you found your temporary rest, a reprieve from the ordinance and the overwhelming draw of the party. You had started to swing back and forth gently, using the spikes of your heels to push yourself forward and catch yourself on the return, repeating this process while listening to the idle chatter that had all seemed like a blur, radiating slowly from the interior of your parent’s estate.

The only time you had looked away from the night sky or the beauty of the garden was when you had caught movement from the corner of your eyes. Your father was stepping out into the garden, his hands tucked into his pockets as he walked while the slight stain of your mother’s lipstick had dusted the mate mark on his neck. She was just as protective and possessive of your father as he was of her.

“You always loved this swing,” your dad had come to sit next to you, casually draping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his embrace, “you did a lot of thinking out here.”

“When I was here,” you quipped, leaning into him nonetheless.

“I tried to do right by you and your mama,” he turned his head and kissed into your hair, his gentle nature was a direct contrast to the reputation he had built for himself, “I love you and your mother, I want what’s best for you.”

“Do you really think this was the best decision? Dad, I didn’t even…I wasn’t a constant presence here and you tried to keep me at a distance from this all. Do you really think I am the best choice?”

Your question was met by a gentle hand and a gentle hum, the comfort of your father had soothed your inner conflict. He had poured everything he could into creating a safety net for your mama and you, for the great loves of his life and despite him being incapable of witnessing a great number of your accomplishments, you knew he sent his love.

“I’ve thought a lot about this, Y/N.” He kissed into your hair again, gently rubbing your bare arm for warmth. “You are the only one I would choose. You are the only one I would ever want to give this to.”

“I’m your only child.” You angled your head and glanced up at him, staring at the man who had given you the world. “Who else would you have given it to?”

“No one.” Your father claimed and nuzzled his cheek against your head. “I would have never married you off like a pawn. I know how destructive you would have become and even if you hadn’t rained hell of your arranged mate and husband, you deserve more respect than that.”

“But you did arrange my mates.” You argued and gently nudged him, stirring a hearty laugh.

“You’re right, I did. However you are not the subservient housewife another alpha would have turned you into. You have the power, you’re the boss. They’re your alphas but in the end you should know that you have a hold on each of them. And I chose mates for you that would have your best interests at hand, good alphas who would keep you safe and help you thrive.”

“What are you going to do now that you’re retired?” You wondered, happily swinging in the peacefulness with your father.

“Take your mama on a long trip. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten to get away just the two of us and no real responsibilities.”

“Mama’s gonna love it.” You sighed and slowly picked up your feet, leaning fully into your dad. “She deserves it.”

“Yes,” your father agreed, “your mama does.”

A passing few moments of peace and comfortable silence had come between the two of you before it was broken by the sound of footsteps echoing on the stone walkway, and the subtle hitch of your heart fluttering rhythmically had been a sign that one of your alphas was approaching. You had raised your head when he had come into view, butterflies in your stomach and your breath hitching had been symptoms of seeing him stand waiting for you.

“Bucky.” You mumbled his name softly, watching him as carefully as he was watching you.

“That’s my queue.” Your father had slowly pulled away from you to stand, straightening his suit jacket and tie before he approached your alpha and rest his hand on his shoulder.

Your father had muttered something quietly to Bucky in passing, a subtle nod of your alphas head before the two of you were left alone and your father’s place had been taken by Bucky.

“You should know,” he turned his head toward you, his eyes reflecting the gentle and soft glow of the hanging lights around the garden, “Nick has had a busy night.”

“Shit,” you cursed and started to push yourself to sit up further, “what happened?”

“Few drunken alphas,” Bucky slid closer to you, reaching behind his back to grab one of the folded blankest, “a few threats that needed to be dealt with.”

“I’m sorry, you should’ve told me.” You whispered between the two of you, shivering from the caress of his hands against yours as he draped the blanket around you.

“Nick can handle it, it’s what we’re here for.” Bucky had reiterated and like your father, had gently pulled you into his side. “We’re all here for you, you just have to let us be.”

“I’m working on it.” You rest your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes, breathing him in before you asked a question unrelated to tonight. “What was your favourite memory from London?”

You could hear Bucky’s heartbeat, you could feel the shift of his scent as it reacted to yours. You could feel the roughness of his palm that was soft against you and the draw of his pretty blue eyes as he studied you.

“My favourite memory of London was heading to a hole in the wall kind of pub and meeting an omega who had been jerked around by an asshole.”

Bucky had squeezed your shoulder before he let you completely relax against him, relaying the story you knew and lived. “It was rainy, cold…”

You lay there against him, revelling in the moment until the clutch of sleep had taken you.

Permanent Tags List: @jennmurawski13-writes @beardburnsupersoldiers @daydreaminginthechaos @rebekahdawkins @supraveng @bookfrog242 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @valsworldofcreativity @rainbowkisses31 @loveitorleaveit20 @alexakeyloveloki @socalgem1124 @mogaruke @dreamlessinparis @frisky975 @dispatchvampire @hereforbuckyandsteve @jesgisborne @fairybnha3 @hallecarey1 @tang082646 @mrslokibarnesrogers @deputy-videogamer @posionivy0061 @loving-life-my-way @kaylamcd2000 @mercyy98 @undecidedsworld @rootcrop @whatinthestyles @slutforsteve @cornmousequeen @rededfoxy @yagurl-snow @glimmering-darling-dolly @patzammit @buckymydarlingangel @missusbarnes-rogers @andy-is-gay @nervousfandom @rileyloves5 @emi11ie @carelessreadersstuff @readingandwritingandreading @cynic-spirit @inkedaztec @gh0stgurl @mansaaay @cats-and-sheep @pono-pura-vida @seitmai @teambarnes72

[kiritella]

Red as Iron [Pt. II]

Pairings: Dad.Bucky x Daughter.Reader

Warnings: Hospitals

Words: 1.0k~

Type: Angsty

______________________  

Cold. Iron. Plummeting into a frozen lake, bathed in the water that would bring death upon him. Bucky gasped for breath but it didn’t alleviate the agonizing wrenching in his chest. He ran. His lungs raged for more than air. Answers. Who? Why? He stopped only when he reached the information desk in the emergency room. 

“Y.n Barnes—she’s sixteen,” he said quickly, “Brought in— the officer said—”

The nurse nodded, typing away on her computer. “Relation to the patient?”

“Father—Please, is she okay?”

“I’m sorry, but do you have an ID on you so I can confirm?”

Bucky groaned, fumbling for his wallet in his back pocket.  He slid his ID onto the counter toward her, and after another agonizing minute, she nodded with a gentle frown and looked up from her computer. She handed him back his ID.

“I’m afraid all I know is that Ms. Barnes was in critical condition when she arrived, but she has been taken back into surgery.” 

“Critical condition—Surgery?!” he asked, shaking his head. “What happened?”

“Brooklyn fire department brought her in less than an hour ago, but other than that, I am afraid I don’t know…” she said apologetically. “The doctor will come out and let you know her condition when he is able to. You are free to wait in the waiting room.”

“Isn’t there anything you can tell me?!” he asked, desperately leaning over the counter between them.

She shook her head. “I wish there was, but the only things I know are what is put into the computer.”

Bucky sighed, hanging his head as he pushed himself off the desk and backed away. He couldn’t breathe. Finding a seat in that forsaken place, he sat down and realized just how much effort it had taken just to stand. He leaned forward as a waft of cold air blew over him, resting his head in his hands. He choked on the breaths carving in and out of his lungs. Less than an hour ago. He was on the phone with her just a little while ago. She was—

~~~

The police had found Bucky in the waiting room an hour later. They were only able to give him the basics of what they found. Burglary gone wrong. Y.n called 911 at 3:57 pm. She said she had come home from school and found someone in their home. Things had escalated, and she was stabbed twice. The Brooklyn fire department EMT was on the scene before the PD, but only barely. She was unconscious by the time they arrived and the burglar was gone. They were investigating the scene and getting the video footage from the apartment complex.  With a bit of luck, something should come up. They asked him question after question until his mind was going numb with frustration. When at last they finished, they had advised him to stay with a friend, but he had shaken his head, and they left him in peace.

He stared at his phone screen now, looking at the numbers displayed in front of him with disbelief. He thought something was off at first, maybe the police had it wrong, but it slowly sank into his chest. 

Recent calls: Y.n Barnes, 4:00 pm.

4:00 pm.  She had called him, his sixteen year old daughter, his baby, had called him, bleeding out in their home, afraid. She had called him and told him she loved him, and that he was an amazing father. His lips trembled as a knot swelled in his throat. His phone screen blurred as Y.no’s voice called out to him louder than the chaos of the hospital he was imprisoned in. 

“Can’t I just call my dad and tell him I love him?”

He took a sharp breath and shook his head. He should have known. He should have heard it in her voice, in her breathing. He should have known something wasn’t right.

“I’m really lucky you’re my dad. I love you.”

He jumped out of the chair and hurried out of the room. He found a nearby stairwell and shoved open the door, stepping quickly down a set of stairs until he found himself on one of the platforms between levels.  He paced back and forth, hand tangling in his hair.

“I just love you, I guess…and I wanted you to know that.”

His hand met the wall, his chest heaved. He leaned against the wall, hands pressed into the plaster as he tried to fathom what he begged to be a nightmare. He wanted to wake up. Dear God, let him wake up.

“I love you too, dad.”

Bucky grit his teeth, hands balling into fists as his heart bore the knife that cut him open. He hung up on her. Why did he hang up? She was bleeding out. Tears began to slip down his cheeks. She’s in critical condition.

“...Goodbye.”

He strangled out a cry as the realization hit him, harsh and ugly, raw as it ripped from his throat. She was saying goodbye. She had called him to say goodbye. 

“Oh, God, Baby, don’t do this to me…” he choked. “Please, Babygirl.”

~~~

It took most of his will to remove himself from that stairwell. To crawl back to the waiting room and sit and wait. It took all his strength to remain sane. He wasn’t used to this. This maddening fear. He’d looked down the barrel of a gun, lost the woman he thought he’d see forever with, feared from the moment Y.n was born that he would do something wrong, but it all seemed so little compared to this moment. This was all consuming, rabid. It wouldn’t let him sit still, and he was at the end of his wits with everyone and everything. He couldn’t calm himself.  

It took until he was on the verge of snapping before a doctor entered the room and cleared his throat.

“Is there a…Mr. Barnes?” he called and Bucky had never risen to his feet quicker. The doctor motioned him to follow, and Bucky hurried to his side.

“Your daughter is doing well,” he said and a breath of air filled Bucky’s lungs so sharply he had to steady himself against the wall. The doctor continued, “She sustained two stab wounds, one to the left lung which had pierced the diaphragm, and the other to the liver. We were able to mend the damage, stabilize her, and she is in recovery now, waking up from the anesthesia. I can take you to see her.”

“Thank you,” was the only thing Bucky could think to say. And with it, he followed the doctor to the patient recovery ward and to Y.n’s room. He couldn’t seem to get there fast enough, but when he got to the door and the doctor left him, he could barely take a step towards her bed. She was still, but breathing softly, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. There was an IV stuck in her arm, an arm that was now bruised. The trails of purple had crept up her arm, and another bruise blossomed on her cheek just below her right eye. The twisting in his chest eased now that he was there beside her, but slowly following behind it was a burning flame. It ate away at him until it ignited a wildfire. His fists curled into his hands until his nails bit his skin. 

He eased his way to her bedside and gently sat on the edge of the mattress. His fingers slipped into her cold ones, and his brows furrowed as he squeezed them tightly. She always hated when her fingers got cold. He pressed her hand in his to let the warmth sink into her own hand. Leaning over, he let his free hand caress the side of her face, over the bruise, as he kissed her forehead, eyes squeezed closed. Gently, he kissed over the bruise as well. 

If the cops didn’t find whoever did this soon, he would find them himself. The cops would never solve the case until they dove into the depths of the ocean, dragging his body up in pieces, each weighed down to the ocean floor in cement. They’d each be broken in several places. Natasha would help him do it.

When he opened his eyes again, they held the sparks erupting from struck red-hot iron. Determination burned in the well of his chest, braced in the armor of his ribs. Be them of a prison cell or the red iron gates of hell, he would ensure whoever did this would see bars.

________________________________

part 3

——————————————————

Forever Tags: [Open!]

@bugsbucky @thelovelydreamer17

Red as Iron Tags: [Open!]

(Just adding the ones who wanted the second part here for this one! I can’t access my taglist file at the moment, so I’m sorry if I missed anyone!)

@thebookofyouandi @givemylovetoall @elite4cekalyma @bucky-boo-bear @urdad-hot @canthavetoomuchcoffee

[teacupcollector]

Playlists

Should I make Playlists for some of the fic series I have made? I just listened to a song that reminded me of “Loki and His Follower” So I was wondering if that would be something anyone would be interested in. This may also get me out of a writers block for some of these! Feel free to send in music you think I might like as well!

Here are some Series that I have ideas for: Rebel (Father Matt Murdock x Reader x Father Figure Frank Castle)

Loki and His Follower (Loki Laufeyson x Reader)

My Missing Piece (Peter Parker x Autistic Reader) A Helping Hand (Joel Miller x Pregnant Reader)

The Undead Kind of Love (Vampire Bucky x Reader)

[darke15]

CHAPTER 92: SINS OF THE FATHER

To all my live reactors,

Please, please, please, hide your reactions under a Read More cut. I don’t want any spoilers floating around. 

&

To all my Anonymous Avengers, 

If you want to react in my asks, feel free. However, I won’t be answering any of them until at least Wednesday if they contain spoilers. 

Thank you,

Darke

┍━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┑

No. No. No. No. No.

It couldn’t be him. No.

Athena would have told you if he was in the city.

He wouldn’t come anywhere near you. Not when you were like this. He was smarter than that.

Your chest tightened as the crowd around you brushed past you and you slowly turned to face the man in the window. His dark, nearly black, eyes met your and, in an instant, your mouth went dry. Your body went rigid. Your breath was caught in your throat as your stomach tightened in endless knots.

— “You think he is going to save you?” he asked, staring down at you as you fought against your restraints, “You think he is going to be the one to release you?” —

— A screech tore through your throat as the Soldier simply watched the blade slip across your shoulders. He didn’t move. Didn’t react to your pleas for help. —

— “He is not a hero,” the Doctor whispered, slashing the blade through more skin, “He is a weapon. And weapons, my dear, they do not weep. They do not scream. They do as they are told.” —

┕━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┙

» CHAPTER 92: SINS OF THE FATHER

✪ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ : Aғᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ

♜♠ Tʜᴇ Sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ & Tʜᴇ Sᴘʏ

⧗ Tʜᴇ Rᴇᴅ Rᴏᴏᴍ

☞ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ: Oʀɪɢɪɴs

»Jᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇ sɪᴅᴇ Tᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

TAGLIST BELOW

@thexbookxnerdx // @autumn-em // @fadingbakeryfarmoperator // @rhymingtree // @itsmeatballworld // @kippykasey // @turtleedovee // @kamalymaly // @onewithnomightypowers // @pixviee // @riahmcq // @thequeenofthefallen // @jesuswasnotawhiteman // @fnnshelbys // @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul // @banbananas // @beans-and-toast // @violetvictoriabarnes // @oikawasblueearbud // @itsarussian // @mrsbarnesinmyimagination // @oopsiedoopsie23 // @luhuhzy // @heyimjustlaura12 // @moonlightreader649 // @petalren // @sighmurderbot // @soldat-petala // @useless-creature-213 // @xiyouchan // @kaiblog50 // @bookfeen // @nx-crisis // @afraidofshrimp // @yjck121 // @aftermatharchives

***if you have a strike through your handle, it wouldn’t let me tag you 😞

[kilikina34512]

Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day to all the great dads out there! I unfortunately didn't get a chance to write a Dad! story specifically for this day so it'll probably be a day or two later that I have one, but I'm going to re-share two stories that are Dad!fics.

Aiden's Special Potion - Dad!Loki - This nearly 1k word one-shot is about Loki taking care of his recently adopted son, Aiden, after he wakes up from a nightmare. Warnings: None foreseen. Mention of nightmares?

The Day He Met His Daughter - Dad!Bucky - This 4k word one-shot is about Bucky telling his newborn daughter how she came into the world that day. Warnings: cussing, labor & delivery, hemorrhaging, angst with a happy ending.

I hope you all enjoy your stories and days with your dads, remembering your dads, or just enjoying another Sunday! Much love! <3

[tulipfantasies]

wounds don't heal overnight | b.barnes

pairing; dad!bucky barnes x daughter!reader

summary; after returning home from a particularly hard mission, your father takes it upon to patch you up.

characters; uncle!steve rogers and alpine

warnings; blood, injuries and swearing

my notes; original on @1-800-romanoff. i don't see enough of parent!bucky (at least as far as i am aware)

2.0k

Wounds. Every Avenger who has set foot on the battlefield returns home riddled with them.

Some end up with severe and (on occasion) life-threatening injuries, while others return home with scratches and bruises. Seeing injuries and seeing someone bleed out no longer holds the same fear and anxiety for the Avengers as it would for a normal person.

Travelling back to the compound took longer than originally anticipated, much to everyone's dismay.

You took the worst hit; your bleeding abdomen and bloody nose were visual proof that easily backed up the statement. Applying as much pressure as you can, you wince at the amount of blood that has begun seeping through your suit.

"Hang on, Y/n/n. We are almost there." The voice came across as a reassuring muffle as you zoned in and out of your thoughts, each time wincing at the pain you felt.

But even as a muffle, you knew exactly who it belonged to. Your 'uncle'.

The second the Quinjet touched down in the hangar bay, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulder.

Normally, you'd protest against the idea of being held up by someone else (you'd like to think you were capable of walking on your own), but your injuries left you in such a bad state that the only thing you could do was lean into his touch and screw your eyes shut as the pain continued to shoot through your body.

"Alpine? Dad?" You hoarsely called out the second you were dragged into the empty hangar bay.

You hoped that your voice came out loud enough for your cat and dad to hear you and walk right up to you and your uncle.

Almost immediately, your dad makes his way over to where you two stood, the little white cat prancing happily underneath every heavy footstep he takes.

"Holy shit!" Bucky's eyes widened in shock as he reached forward to gently pull you out of Steve's grasp (which loosened the second Bucky came into view) and into his own. "What the fuck did you do out there, Y/n/n?"

Ever since you were a young girl, your dad, the 'cold-hearted' Winter Soldier, despised seeing you in any form of pain. Everyone knows that seeing you in such a bad state was like torture to him.

So being greeted by Steve holding you up as your left arm was wrapped protectively over your abdomen (which was oozing with blood) and a blood-soaked tissue pressed up against your broken nose to prevent blood loss was killing him on the inside.

"It's just a scratch." You tease, trying to make light of the situation. Instead of laughing, your father gave you a look that pulled a sheepish smile onto your lips.

Not a second later, Alpine curls around your leg and flicks her tail to sit down at your feet. "Hi, Piney." You whisper down at the cat with a small, painful smile.

"A fucking big one." He grumbles as he slowly begins leading you in the direction of the hangar bay's exit. "Come on, Alpine," Bucky calls over his shoulder as he begins dragging you over to the compound's infirmary, where you could get your injuries assessed.

The infirmary is one of the biggest facilities in the compound, and yet, apart from Bruce, who was busy cleaning someone else's minor wound, it was like a ghost town.

Rows and rows of hospital beds, the stench of disinfectant, and fluorescent lights greet you as your father drags you further and further into the infirmary.

The only other sound that could be heard over the footsteps belonging to you and your dad and the murmurs of Bruce was the sound of small paws running after you.

"Sit your ass down!" Your dad ordered harshly, but you knew he was concerned, making you nod and follow his order to sit down on the bed.

Bucky makes a beeline for some medical equipment; from your space on the bed, you could hear him dismiss Bruce's attempts to look at your seeping wounds (he claims that he's 'able to patch his own daughter's wounds up, thank you').

Lost in the pain that was searing through your abdomen and nose, you barely acknowledge a small head that nudges your free hand. Absentmindedly, your fingertips reach behind her ears to give them a gentle scratch.

"Hiya, Alpine. Did you keep Dad sane while I was away?" You ask softly as if the cat would suddenly start speaking.

Seconds later, Bucky returns to the bed that you and the cat were sitting on with a first aid kit and extra gauze in his metal hand.

He places the equipment on the bed before reaching forward to gently pry your arm away from your abdomen, causing you to wince and hiss as the cold air hits it.

His eyes widened in shock at how large your wound was. "Holy shit, why the hell didn't you tell me? You could've passed out!"

"I was applying pressure to it, just like you and Uncle Stevie taught me to do," you reply, causing your father to shake his head in disappointment.

"And in that space of time, you could've passed out from too much blood loss," Bucky replies, continuing to shake his head and fumble with the first aid kit.

"Please tell me you know how to stitch up a wound," you beg softly.

"Doll, you know being in the war came with the ability to stitch up a wound," Bucky replies as he slowly begins to dab a wet cloth over your abdomen.

You hissed loudly at the coolness of the cloth and at the fact that he didn't have a full idea of what he was doing.

"Of course," you wince at the pain, "how could I forget that you and Uncle Steve were in the war?" You asked, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

"Watch that tone, young lady," Bucky warns with a small smile tugging on his lips as your fingertips continue to scratch behind Alpine's ears. "This is going to hurt, doll."

You immediately bite down on your bottom lip before nodding as a way to prepare yourself for the pain.

"You're going to give me and your uncle a heart attack one day with the number of injuries you have on missions," Bucky adds into the settled silence, causing you to attempt to chuckle through the pain, which doesn't work as it sends more pain-searing through your body and near your wound.

"Sending you and Uncle Steve into cardiac arrest is serious considering you are both 100-odd years old." You joke with a light chuckle.

Your dad quickly reaches forward to gently pinch your forearm with his metal hand. "Ouch." You jut out your bottom lip, making your dad smile softly.

"Y/n..." Bucky's tone reaches a warning point. "What have I told you about bringing up our ages?"

You huff loudly before carefully folding your arms over your chest. You've had the lecture of 'Now, as you are aware, your uncle and I are around 100 years old, but that does not give you the right to make jokes about it,' but as you can see, that lecture was pointless as you kept making small digs as it is.

"Just because you guys are old like fossils," Bucky glares daggers at you as you shrug, "it doesn't mean that I should make jokes about it because making jokes about people's age is rude. I know, Dad, you've given me this lecture many times, and yet I still do it."

Bucky shakes his head just as he finishes stitching you up. He then begins looking around the area for the gauze that was just out of his reach; luckily for him, Alpine gently nudged the roll with her head, sending it rolling over to Bucky.

She meowed softly as her tail curled around her.

"Thanks, Alpine." He scratches her head before picking up the white stretchy fabric to begin wrapping it around your torso. He ties a knot in the back before grabbing another clean cloth to tend to your bloody nose.

"Your grandma would've been furious seeing how easily and badly injured you get. I wish you could have seen her face when Steve got into trouble." Bucky chuckles, causing you to join to the best of your ability.

You always enjoyed hearing stories about your grandparents or your father and uncle when they were younger, and this was no exception.

"Don't act like you didn't get into trouble yourself too, Buck." Your uncle's voice echoes through the empty infirmary, making you both jump.

You glance over your dad's shoulder to see your uncle, who looked exhausted, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. "How're you doing, kiddo? You scared me back there."

"Apart from being in a shit ton of pain—"

"Y/n! Language!" Bucky barks, causing you to smile sheepishly.

 "-I'm doing much better. I feel just as exhausted as you look, though." You comment with a smile just as Steve pushes himself off of the wall to make his way over to your bed.

"You were always the one that got into trouble physically, Steve. I was the one pulling you out of them." Bucky says, referring back to Steve's first comment, which causes Steve to clap Bucky on the back before sitting down on the bed next to you.

The bed dips slightly under his pressure as he carefully wraps his arm around your shoulder. At the sudden dip in the hard mattress, Alpine climbs onto your lap and begins to softly purr.

"What on earth are we going to do with you, Y/n/n?" Steve asks as he gently squeezes your shoulder.

"We better wrap her head to toe in that, uh, plastic thing with bubbles that makes the popping sound when you press down on them." You burst into laughter at your dad's attempt to identify something he was unfamiliar with.

Seeing as you were born during this time, you would often spend your free time educating your father and uncle on what things are called and what their purpose is. The current topic is mobile phones.

"Bubble wrap, Dad." Bucky clicks his fingers as he hums in agreement. You shake your head before turning to your uncle with a tired smile. "Have you figured out how to use the internet or how to call and text someone yet, Uncle Steve?"

"No, using a mobile phone is a lot harder than you'd expect," Steve replies nonchalantly. "At least it is for someone mine and your father's age."

"You're doing well, though; practice makes perfect." You stifle a loud yawn and blink back the urge to sleep as you run your fingertips up and down Alpine's back.

"Come on, doll. You need sleep; you can talk to your uncle tomorrow." Bucky orders quietly as he makes a swift move to pick the sleeping cat off of your lap, much to her dismay, to help you up.

You smile tiredly over at your uncle as your dad wraps his free arm around your shoulder to hold you up.

"Good night, Uncle Steve." You mumble quietly.

"Good night, Y/n/n," Steve replies, matching your tiredness.

At a slow and steady pace, you found yourself standing outside your bedroom door.

With little struggle, you push open the door to let Alpine strut into your bedroom so she can curl up on your bed (even though she has her own) before turning to hug your dad goodnight.

"No contact with water for a couple of days." He orders as he wiggles his finger in your face. "I love you, doll. Goodnight."

"I love you too, Dad. Night." You murmur before staggering into the dark and cold bedroom.

You gently push the door shut with the palm of your hand before stumbling through the dimly lit room and over to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

One thing is for sure: there are no more missions going to be planned for you, at least not on your father's watch.

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad.