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rookthorne · 10 months

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐧

Reminiscing on the days of your first meeting with your wolves wasn’t how you planned to spend your evening — how intimidating or scary it had been, until you saw a glimpse of what lay beneath. It made a warmth bloom in your chest at how time had developed your connection to them, a connection you hoped would never be severed.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ➣ Bodyguard!CW!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Bodyguard!Winter Soldier

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ➣ 2.0k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ➣ Fluff, tension, a little of their past is revealed, they talk shit in Russian

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ➣ The banter in this is my most favourite thing, I swear.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ➣ Deadwood by Really Slow Motion ➣ Burn by 2WEI, Edda Hayes

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ➣ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer ჻჻჻ Week 5 — "When I first met you..." — Masterlist

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐨𝐯 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The slide and click of metal on metal was a soothing melody from your perch on the couch. Both James and Bucky were cleaning and maintaining their arsenal at the dining table – a pair of well oiled machines working swiftly through the steps with practised ease, and you supposed they could have done this routine blindfolded and with their hands behind their backs.

You closed your eyes, listening to them mumble and chatter while the TV played in the background, when a thought that had plagued your mind for days re-entered your mind.

“Hey, Jamie?”

A hum came from James’ side of the table, but the slide and click of metal didn’t cease. You took that as a sign to continue. “Do you remember when we first met?”

Bucky snorted a laugh and the smooth motions of their cleaning came to a grinding halt. You looked up and over the back of the couch to see James staring at you, his expression blank, if only a little bit exasperated.

“Yes, I remember,” James said, putting his Skorpion down on the table. “How could I forget? You two remind me at every turn.”

“It’s not our fault you scared the shit outta her, Jamie,” Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes. “You are literally the definition of ‘extra’, I swear to god.”

It was your turn to laugh at the look on James’ face – eyes narrowed and a deep frown.

“And then you couldn’t shut your fucking mouth,” James snarked.

“Don’t worry,” you called, snickering. Both of them looked at you, Bucky curious, James annoyed. “I still love you both.”

At that, they looked back down at their weapons and their routine began again. You sighed, cuddling into the couch cushions and letting the memory of when you first met them take you away from their quiet bickering.

It was a bright morning, and your father had texted you – a simple request to meet him at his office for lunch to meet your new security detail. The knowledge alone made you nervous – while you knew the work your father undertook, the fact that he had to search for a new security detail to follow your every move… Well, it didn’t take a genius to work out that whatever was going on behind the scenes, and what he was neglecting to tell you, was serious.

Downtown traffic was, as usual, hectic and gridlocked, but your driver got you there in a prompt fashion and walked you to the door of the towering office building. Familiar faces walked by and greeted you with quiet words or soft smiles. The elevator chimed and opened as you walked across the lobby, and you took it to the executives floor – where your father conducted his shady dealings, and where your new protection detail awaited.

The doors opened, and the lobby spread before you – dark carpeted floors and minimalistic furniture lined the space, assistant’s flocking to and fro, looking rushed and harassed with cups of coffee, or stacks of paper in their hands.

Your feet carried you towards the largest set of double doors on the opposite end of the floor – each step taking you closer, while the band of anxiety around your chest tightened and cinched.

A security detail wasn’t the issue, per se, it was the fact that you would have to place your life in the hands of a bunch of fools, no doubt – money hungry, and blood thirsty.

After all you had seen thanks to the many guards before – none of which you should have in the first place – it was a fate you didn’t want to have. There was no way in hell you were going to trust these new guards, and you would tell them so.

Bethany, your father’s assistant, smiled at you as you strode past her desk. “Hello, love,” she greeted, her smile making the aged lines of her kind face prominent. “They’re waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Beth,” you replied.

You paused at the door, and took a deep breath. “You can do this,” you muttered, placing a hand on the gleaming chrome handle. The words helped steel your resolve. “You’ve got this.”

The door swung open silently, and your father’s office engulfed you in a sea of monochrome and mahogany wood. “Daughter,” he exclaimed, smiling brightly – you noted how it didn’t reach his eyes. “It is good to see you, come in–come sit.”

You glanced around the large room and found a dark-haired man seated before the giant desk, his back facing the door. A black leather jacket was draped over the back of his chair, and the plain black shirt covering the broad expanse of his back and shoulders was criss-crossed with leather straps – twin holsters, you wondered, hesitating in the doorway.

A beat of silence passed, the tense energy of the room becoming unbearable.

“Hey,” you greeted, voice small. Of all the times you needed to keep your voice strong, now was not the time to falter, you cursed. “You wanted to see me–?”

“I did.” Your father rose from his seat and rounded his desk to embrace you, but you didn’t relax into his hold. “I wanted you to meet your new bodyguards, they’re going to be with you from this point on. Can’t have my precious girl getting hurt with all these new…” He stiffened, brows furrowing in thought. “Contracts, I have developed with new partners.”

There was only one man present, you couldn’t help but notice. “Uh-huh. So, why do I need–” You tried, but your father shot you a look.

“You know why, precious,” he admonished. “Now, come sit, meet them.”

The instinct to follow orders from your father settled in your mind, and you moved towards the empty seat beside the dark-haired man. “You said there were two- Oh,” you gasped.

Grey eyes met yours, and you froze. His face was handsome as hell, dusted with stubble and lightly tanned, full pink lips and a dimpled chin, and god, when he smiled – the sight made you wish the floor would swallow you whole. The straps over his back were indeed twin holsters, both occupied with some kind of twin handguns and sitting snug against his side.

“Bucky,” he offered simply, his voice low and far too seductive for the setting. “You must be the infamous firecracker, huh?”

Your father laughed lightly, and you stammered, “Me?”

“Yeah, you, doll,” Bucky grinned. His gaze didn’t move from your face when he spoke again, this time at large, “Razve ona ne velikolepna, Yashka?”

“I ona nasha,” a muffled voice replied, and you jumped. Whirling around in your seat, you found a second man leaning against the wall behind the office door, his arms crossed, and a mask covering the lower half of his face. Piercing blue eyes stared at you from his vantage point, and you felt exposed under the intense scrutiny. “Po krayney mere, yeye ublyudok ottsa ne mozhet ponyat' russkiy.”

Bucky chuckled and licked his lips, turning to look at the second man. “You’re scaring the shit out of her, James–get the fuck over here and make yourself presentable.”

A loud sigh came from James and he moved off the wall. Unlike Bucky, he was slimmer, lithe but muscular, and clothed in tactical gear – the black leather of his vest and canvas of his pants were rigged with holsters and pockets, and heavy combat boots thudded over the carpeted floor.

“Doll, this is James,” Bucky said, smiling as James moved to lean against your father’s desk, his back facing your father. His hair fell to his jawline – the bottom of the mask, at least, and in the light, his gaze became all the more piercing, almost assessing.

You stared blankly between the two of them, eyes wide with shock and your heart racing in your chest. Words scrambled in your brain until you settled on, “Please don’t scare me like that again.”

James’ eyes crinkled and he huffed a laugh, the sound muted behind his mask. “I will not. Not intentionally.”

“I will leave you to get to know them, precious,” your father piped up, smiling. “I’ll see you later, yes?”

“Okay,” you agreed easily, far too entranced in the sea of black and blue before you. “See you later.”

You watched your father walk to the door and close it behind him with a click, and you breathed a heavy sigh, when Bucky spoke up again. “So, now that James has scared the shit outta you, and you haven’t run for the hills, I can say that this arrangement will certainly be interesting.”

“Interesting?” you repeated, incredulous.

“Pay no attention to this brute’s words,” James said, eyeing Bucky with a glint of long-suffering in his bright eyes. “I don’t.”

The back of Bucky’s hand connected with James’ thigh, and James laughed.

“Smug bastard,” Bucky muttered. “So, this deal entails both James and me being your new protection detail, and that means we need you to understand a lot of things, and fast.”

“Okay, but first,” you rushed, and both of them looked at you, gazes soft and open. “You speak Russian…?”

“Da,” James replied easily. “Amongst others; I know several languages. Bucky knows a few.”

“And why do you look like you're geared up for war, while Bucky looks like a civilian?” The words poured from your mouth before you could stop them, and their soft expressions morphed into ones of pure amusement.

“Because James, or Jamie- Ow, fucker,” Bucky sneered, the blow to his head ruffling his hair. “He’s what the youth call a drama queen.”

“Zatknis',” James hissed. “I dress this way because you can never be too prepared. Besides, it’s comfortable.”

Bucky snorted. “And you like the way I stare at your ass in those pants.”

“Yakob!” James growled. Your eyes widened as Bucky began to laugh loudly, cowering slightly under James’ glare. “Seriously?”

“Wait, wait,” you said loudly, raising your hands placatingly as Bucky gasped for air, and James scowled – at least, you guessed he did, behind the mask. “You–You’re together?”

A beat of silence passed as you stared between them, when Bucky shrugged. “He’s been my partner for years. Your father doesn’t know, neither do many others.”

Understanding dawned on you – they were sharing a little slice of their life to make you feel at ease, even if the information could compromise them, that’s what you assumed, if it was so secretive.

“I won’t say anything,” you assured them, smiling. “Why don’t we go to lunch? We can go back to my apartment, and we can discuss this–whatever it is.”

“Alright,” Bucky said, grinning. “That sounds good.” He rose from his seat and you baulked – his stature, while still big in the chair he had lazed in, was nothing compared to now. Roughly the same height as James, and almost twice as broad, while the straps of his holsters curved along the plains of muscle as he threw on his jacket. “Like what you see, doll?”

Shit. “Sorry- I didn’t–”

“It is fine,” James laughed. “I did call him a brute for a reason, kisa.”

You laughed nervously while Bucky made to punch James for the comment – though you didn’t understand what kisa meant, you brushed it off to find out later. “We can pick something up on the way–?”

“Yes,” James said immediately, moving to stand next to you and shoving Bucky back so he stumbled. “I do not trust his cooking–he might poison you.”

“You little fucker,” Bucky grumbled, and he pounced.

The sounds of a scuffle broke out behind you, and you sighed, shaking your head. If this is how they acted when they were on their own, you knew many laughs were to be had in the future – you just had to get them out of the door of this office, first.

“Hey, guys, come on,” you laughed, turning around to see Bucky in a headlock, James standing victoriously over him. “You can duke it out later, but for now, I’m hungry.”

James sighed and released his hold on Bucky, and the two of them straightened their clothes. “Come,” James said, gesturing at the door. A set of black goggles suddenly appeared in his left hand, and he clipped them onto his mask and under his hair. “We’ll drive you home,” he said, adjusting the mask and then he slipped a pair of gloves onto his hands. “So long as this ublyudok doesn’t try anything foolish.”

“Fuck you, punk,” Bucky spat, shoving James in the shoulder.

“Children,” you muttered affectionately – their bond already growing on you.

The door opened and the playful aura dropped faster than a hot coal. It was akin to whiplash, but you understood – out there, in the public eye, they had to maintain a level of professionalism unlike any other. And if the stoicity of Bucky’s expression and their intimidating stature was any guess, or the way people scrambled to get out of your way as you walked through the lobby, you knew that these two were more than good at their jobs.

Though, you couldn’t wait to see and learn more about the two wolves that flanked your sides, teeth bared in a silent, protective snarl.

This protection detail would open many doors, you felt, and with that thought, you smiled as you led them to the street.

razve ona ne velikolepna, Yashka = isn't she gorgeous, James i ona nasha = and she is ours po krayney mere, yeye ublyudok ottsa ne mozhet ponyat' russkiy = at least her bastard of a father can't understand Russian zatknis' = shut up ublyudok = bastard

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader x winter soldier #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x reader x winter soldier #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #hotbuckysummer2023 #rookthorne's works #WD

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