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smolmeg · a month ago
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wake up babe new jesus just dropped
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nastybuckybarnes · 2 years ago
Bodyguard  -  One
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(Doesn’t he kinda look like Sebastian Stan???)
Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky X Politician!Reader
Summary: As a young and controversial politician, you face some opposition. After a death threat is made and your security is at risk, you agree to get a bodyguard. You don’t expect him to be the most irritating and attractive man on the planet. With a history so deep and twisted you never thought you’d figure it out, a terrible corporation is determined to take you out of the political picture; using any means necessary. The only question is, how far is James willing to go to ensure your safety?
Warnings: Angst, Violence, threats, injuries, kidnapping, drugging, political talk (not a lot), terrorism (Wait for the plot twist tho guys), Smut, Fluff, PTSD, (More to Come)
Word Count: 2.5K
A/n: Part one is now up! I hope you guys like it. I think this will be a fast paced story. Idk though.
Feet pounding through mud, the squishy sound disgusting.
Distant gunshots and screams of pain.
The distinct stench of smoke, rotting flesh, and gunpowder.
This is war. This is where he’s been trapped.
“Sarge, get down!” Then he’s on the ground, a gunshot echoing loudly as the heavy weight of his general covers his body.
“Isabel? Isabel?!” He pushes her off gently, tapping her cheeks a few times to try and revive her. It’s all pointless, however, when he notices the red staining her clothes from a bullet that tore through her stomach and embedded in his bulletproof vest.
“No. No, no, no, no. Please, no.” She lies unmoving in her black suit, her eyes closed.
Bucky raises his head and searches for the shooter, grabbing his own gun as he pinpoints their location.
His finger twitches twice and then the gunman falls, blood pouring from two wounds on his chest.
His eyes flash back to the dead woman on the ground in front of him, rage filling him as he screams and curses to every and any Gods listening.
He screams himself hoarse then collapses in a heap beside her body, sobbing uncontrollably for hours on end.
He wakes with a jolt, body drenched in sweat, left shoulder aching.
“Fuck,” he whispers to the darkness, rubbing his eyes and shoving himself into a seated position.
How many months has it been? And still, nearly every night without fail, he has the same goddamn nightmare.
“Sergeant Barnes. I have a new assignment for you.” He stands stiffly in front of Director Fury’s desk.
“It’s a… protective detail. Of a Politician. I don’t know how comfortable you are with this but you’re the best man for the job.” He stays stoic as ever, although inside he’s fuming.
Politicians are the reason he had to go fight that war in the first place.
“I accept the assignment, Sir.” Fury pinches the bridge of his nose and purses his lips. “This Politician. She’s the Secretary of State. At twenty-six years old. Youngest in History.” Bucky’s jaw clicks.
“My point is, she’s good at what she does, stubborn, and won’t go down without a fight. She’s worked with foreign affairs, which is why I’m hesitant.”
Bucky rolls his eyes. “Sir, am I going to be briefed for this assignment or not?” Fury sets his hands down on his desk, looking at the Sergeant with his one good eye.
“That’s what’s happening now. I’m briefing you. Her name is (Y/n) (Y/l/n). Her father was a politician, shot in the head November third while driving. They never caught the man responsible for her father’s death but she took after him. Now, she’s been receiving death threats, some with pictures of herself in them.”
“Pictures, sir?”
“Yes. Of her grocery shopping, walking her dog. Things like that. Too close for comfort. So Tony Stark, a dear friend of her father’s, the man who took her in and basically raised her, insisted that we have someone on this case.”
Bucky’s quiet, thinking about everything being said to him.
“Oh, one more thing I should probably tell you,” Fury begins, his face revealing no emotion. “She… doesn’t really agree with this whole ‘bodyguard’ thing. She’ll try to fight you on it, and this woman knows how to get under your skin. She’s a spitfire. You need to keep a clear head and not let her get to you.”
“Understood, Sir.” Fury hands him a thick file.
“You meet her tomorrow morning at her office, first thing. Lay down some ground rules, tell her what’s going to be happening. Do not let her rile you up. Am I understood, Sergeant?” He nods, his jaw clenched tight. “Understood, Director.”
“Shit! Shit shit shit!” You jump out of your office chair and search through some papers, desperate to find what you’re looking for.
“(Y/n). Lovely (Y/n).” You groan at the voice and slump back down in your chair.
“Yes, Tony? What do you want?” He practically prances into the room, a happy smile on his face.
“The PPO is here. Thought it’d be a great time to introduce the two of you. So, Madame Secretary, meet Sergeant James Barnes.” The man Tony introduces is tall and thick, his well-tailored suit straining against him. He’s got short hair and a blank expression on his face.
“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I was hoping we could discuss a few things and alterations that will be implemented in your everyday life.” You shoot Tony a glare then clear your throat.
“I’m actually really busy right now. I don’t have time to chit chat.” He clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath.
“I understand that you’re trying to do your job, but I also need you to understand that I need to do mine. Now, Within the next hour, we will discuss the changes in routes, entrances, names, and phone numbers. Your safety is my number one concern. Any questions?”
You stifle a groan and throw your hands up. “Yeah. Is this really necessary? It’s not even that big of a deal!” Tony scoffs and tosses an envelope on your desk.
“Wanted to wait ‘till your bodyguard got here to show you guys these.” You open it carefully, a shudder going through you as you see the pictures of yourself.
One as you’re entering the building, one as you’re leaving, one from a few days ago when you went to the bank, another from the grocery store, and one outside your house.
“I think we need to raise the threat level,” Sergeant Barnes says, analyzing the pictures carefully. “I agree one hundred percent. Now that we know they’ve been watching her house I don’t want her alone there.”
“Jesus Tony! I’m not a fucking child who needs a babysitter. No offence,” you add the last part, glancing at the officer.
“None taken Ma’am.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose as you recognize Tony’s signature bitch-face. There’s no use arguing.
“Fine. Tell me whatever you have planned to fuck up my life.”
Sergeant Barnes sits down in one of the chairs across from your desk and you collapse into your own, waiting for him to begin.
“Firstly, I agree with Mr. Stark. They know where you live and where you go. It would be unwise for you to be going places alone, especially if you’ve been receiving detailed threats on your life.” You don’t respond and he takes that as his cue to continue.
“I also think cutting out contact with anyone you don’t need to talk to would be ideal. It’s clear that there are people everywhere who don’t… agree with you. People who want to do you harm. We need to minimize your accessibility. That also means using different routes, potentially switching cars halfway through a commute. You are clearly a target, and we need to be as cautious as we possibly can. I’ve already established a team prepared to set up perimeter’s around designated areas, do patrolling all night if need be, and do anything in their power to keep you safe, as I will do.”
Tony seems to relax at his words. You, however, only get tenser. “Alright. Fine. I know I can't argue this anyway. I agree to all these terms and whatever.” Just as you’re about to reach for your phone, he clears his throat.
“One more thing,” the corners of his lips twitch for a moment before falling back into the stone expression. “The Director who assigned me to be your PPO wanted to warn me that you can be… hard to deal with at times. I want to let you know that when I tell you to do something, you’ll listen. I am protecting your life, not being a nuisance. If you question me when we’re in a tense situation, it will only add to the precautions I must take to ensure your safety. Understood?” You simply nod, rolling your eyes and making a mental note to speak with whoever he’s talking about.
“Okay. Now that your schpeel is over, I’m going to get food. I haven’t eaten a single thing all day, and now all I want is to grab some takeout and go home to work on paperwork in peace and quiet. Is that understood? That I’m getting myself food whether you like it or not?” A muscle in his jaw twitches and you nod.
“Perfect. Now let’s go. I assume you’re going to be less than a foot from me at all times, so let’s get this nightmare over with already.”
“Ma’am, I know it’s not my place, but why aren’t you the least bit afraid for your safety?” The Sergeant asks after your house has been thoroughly scoured, all while you act like it’s some kind of joke.
“Because. This isn’t the first time this has happened. People don’t like politicians. So they do things to try and scare us off. If I let them scare me then they’re winning.” He nods and stands almost awkwardly by the door to your office.
“You can leave, you know. Go… home or wherever.” He shakes his head and stays standing stiffly.
“I’m not leaving tonight. Mr. Stark agrees that it’s best to have someone with you at all times. An Agent is coming with my stuff. I’ll stay in whichever room you deem fit for me.” You rub your eyes then sigh.
“There’s a spare bedroom upstairs. Last door on the left. That’s where you can stay. Now please, can I have some privacy to finish these papers?” He analyzes the room once more, then nods.
“I’ll be within earshot if you need me.” You nod and watch as he walks out of the room, one finger touching his earpiece as he murmurs softly to whoever’s on that line.
You have about an hour of peace before there’s a knock on your door.
“Stay in your study, Ma’am. I’ll get it.” You hear the door open slowly, followed by the beep beep beep of your alarm system.
“Sarge,” A female voice says. Curiosity fills you and you slowly rise out of your seat, heading towards the front door.
“Madame Secretary,” The woman greets you without looking away from The Sergeant. “Ma’am, this is Agent Romanoff. She’s one of the members of the team I was telling you about.” The redhead finally looks at you, her green eyes becoming hard.
“I’m sorry we had to meet under such circumstances. I do hope that these issues get resolved quickly so you can sleep better at night.” You offer her a tight smile then turn on your heel, ready to head back to your study.
“Ma’am, Agent Romanoff has brought to my attention that there are no locks on the windows on the second floor.” You furrow your brows and turn back to them. “Uh, no there aren’t. How does she know that?” She raises a perfectly sculpted brow at you.
“People who want you dead aren’t going to knock on your door. They’ll try the windows first. If any are unlocked or lacking locks, then they can easily come in and do with you what they want.” You nod, humming a bit to agree.
“That may be true, agent, but in my experience… locks have never stopped them either.”
You turn around and walk back to your study, trying not to relive the memories of the past.
“Wow, Buck. You’ve got your work cut out for you.” He elbows Natasha in the ribs and she chuckles. “Shut up. Now, where’s my stuff.” She passes him two duffle bags then follows him upstairs, making sure the front door is locked.
“Why do you push the buttons of everyone you meet, Nat?” He asks, opening the door to the spare bedroom and tossing the bags on the bed. “She’s the youngest Secretary of State ever. Her work… is incredible. She’s prevented so many possible terrorist attacks and has lessened the American casualties in foreign affairs by ten percent, and it’s hardly been five years. She’s an amazing woman who needs to be protected and quite possibly put in her place.” Bucky sighs heavily and shakes his head.
“Nat, she’s scared. She’s scared and stressed because of her job. Just… let her be. Okay? I’ve got this handled.” Natasha shrugs but drops the subject, looking around the room carefully. Her eyes dart to the window and she purses her lips for a moment.
“Go tell Madame Secretary that she needs locks on all her windows by tomorrow. Buy them and install them yourself if she refuses. She needs locks. The second-floor windows aren’t all that hard to climb up to. She should be afraid.”
He glares at her and shakes his head. “I’m not going to instill unnecessary and unwanted fear in her. I’ll install some locks tomorrow. But until then, she’ll make due. Like she has been for the past however long. Now, I’m sure Director Fury wants you back now. Or something.” She rolls her eyes but heads down the stairs, taking note of everything she can on her way out.
“Lavender on the move. Stay close.” You roll your eyes at the name you’ve been given in what you call ‘secret police terms’.
“Does Agent Romanoff always climb onto the rooves of Politicians to check if their windows have locks?” You ask, not raising your eyes from your phone as your bodyguard looks at you through the rearview mirror.
“Agent Romanoff likes to be thorough.” You nod, seemingly uninterested.
An email is what holds your attention. With pictures of the redhead climbing onto your roof. Then pictures of you in your study. Then pictures of you making tea this morning.
“Ma’am, may I ask why you’re nervous?” You finally look up, teeth chewing your bottom lip as you hand him your phone.
He looks through the pictures then curses softly, grabbing his phone and dialling a number quickly. He presses the phone to his ear and starts talking fast, quiet words you can’t really hear falling from his pink lips.
Pink lips? Since when did you notice his nice lips.
You shake your head and try to focus on his words.
“Send the whole team if you have to. Have Romanoff inside the house searching for any indications of intruders. Get Stark to switch all the locks on her windows and doors and have new curtains installed. I want the surrounding area searched for any indication of where they were. I’m sending you the pictures taken and you have copies of all the other ones. Whoever it is, now knows she’s under Protective Detail and I don’t want to think about what they might do. Call me back with any news.” He hangs up and meets your eyes in the mirror.
“If you receive any more emails or texts including any pictures like this or any threats, you bring it to my attention immediately, understood?” You nod, not bothering to argue.
At this point, you’re actually getting kind of scared.
“Good. Now, let’s review your schedule for the day, shall we?”
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