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rookthorne · 7 months

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐀 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

The time had come for a purge — a leadership so rotten to the core that it had bled into and sullied the earth where it took its roots. Teeth gnashed and the growl of a prowling pack of wolves was near, and they were bloodthirsty.

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

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ➣ 4.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ➣ Fluff, angst, dark themes, familial physical abuse, descriptions of assassination, a lot of their past is uncovered with a surprise visitor

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ➣ Well, here is the start of a whole new arc for these three — the moment I have been planning since the very beginning and working out how it would happen, is finally here. ➣ @smutconnoisseur had a huge part in the basis of this, all those months ago, and I can only hope what I have done has given her idea justice — buckle up and enjoy!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ➣ Hunt You Down by The Hit House, William August Hunt, Scott Lee Miller, Ruby Friedman ➣ Sinners and Saints by Andrea Wasse ➣ Deadwood by Really Slow Motion ➣ Holding Out for a Hero by Nothing But Thieves ➣ Burn by 2WEI, Edda Hayes ➣ We Know What You Whisper by Busiswa Gqulu, Ludwig Göransson ➣ How Villains Are Made by Madalen Duke ➣ Go To Hell, for Heaven's Sake by Bring Me The Horizon

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ➣ @allcapsbingo 𝗡𝟰 — White Wolf — Masterlist

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐨𝐯 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was dark. Your first glance around the room left you that conclusion, and the door stood only slightly ajar. The hallway was dark, too — no light from the kitchen, nor were there any lights on elsewhere.

Bucky and James, ever the tacticians, had set their home up in a way that wherever you were in the house, you would know if a light was on, or you would hear even the slightest creak.

You called them paranoid, they called themselves practical.

Which, with the truth of things and all of what they had seen, not to mention their line of work, you couldn’t blame them.

What stumped you, however, was that you could hear the low murmur of voices. Russian curses and words, and was that a laugh? Dark and hollow, void of humour, and far too dangerous to be considered friendly.

After the day you had endured, the yelling match with your father and the backhanded slap that had sent you reeling, you wanted nothing more than just to curl up with both Bucky and James — content to sleep the winces of pain and the vicious slither of anger away.

It seemed they had other ideas, of which included bringing a stranger into their fortress of an abode.

You shuffled to the edge of the bed and threw one of Bucky’s shirts on, then walked slowly to the bedroom door. The voices were a little louder, more discernible. A male’s voice, a low tone that hummed with implicit threat. “And just how do you expect this to pan out?”

“A blood bath,” Bucky replied, just as dangerous. “They’re making their move. It’s not like they believe the bullshit of feigned innocence. He has to go, whether it’s by our hand…” There was a pause, followed by the sound of a low grumble and shuffled movement. Then a growl of, “Or another’s.”

“Mine,” James said just as quietly.

You blanched and placed a hand on the door when that same hollow laugh bounced off the walls again. “Well,” the voice said in a loud scoff. “You really have it out for him, huh?”

“He is dangerous,” James growled, and you heard the slither of poison in his voice. You pictured him on the edge of his seat, a snarl on his lips. “I will not have him hurt her, not again.”

Your mouth parted in shock. Slowly, you opened the door, careful to keep it from creaking, and you padded down the hall when the conversation abruptly stopped with the last words of, “He will be on the move in a few hours. I have set up-”

Silence followed, but you still crept forward. The stranger’s voice suddenly called, “She’s awake.”

You peered around the corner and found Bucky and James looking at you from over the back of the couch, and the stranger, remarkably stoic and intimidating, sat on the chair opposite. He stared at you with calculating eyes — just as cold and intimidating as James had been when you first met him.

“Kisa,” James said softly, and he twitched a smile. “Are you alright?”

Frowning, you stepped closer and Bucky let out a sharp exhale. The bruises left behind from your father’s rings had bloomed and decorated your cheeks like a stain. “Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered. “C’mere, come sit with me.”

The three men watched you like a hawk; two of them concerned, one intensely curious.

With a wince of pain twisting your face, you sat down on Bucky’s lap sideways, grateful to feel his arm cradling your sore back and the other resting over your thighs. “I’m just sore,” you whispered.

Bucky kissed your forehead and rested his cheek there, his hand moving up and down your thigh to soothe you. “You took a hell of a hit,” he rumbled, and the stranger raised a brow.

James breathed a heavy sigh and put a hand on your shin. “It is alright, darling. Do you mind if we keep talking?” You shook your head and burrowed into Bucky’s chest, placing a hand over his heart and mindlessly fidgeting with his shirt collar. James looked at the stranger and began again, “As you have said, he will be on the move in a few hours?”

The stranger nodded, his focus shifting from you to James. You realised they looked eerily similar. “Yeah, he’ll be out to finalise something or rather.”

“Be specific,” Bucky snapped.

“A contract came up with a new import opportunity. His company secured it. I don’t think I need to fill in the details,” the stranger deadpanned, eyes boring into Bucky’s face. You shrunk under the heat of such a stare.

“Enough,” James said quickly. “Kisa, darling, this is… Wolf. He is an old accomplice.”

“And an arrogant fucker,” Bucky edged in, voice dark. “You forgot to mention that.”

James glared at Bucky and he finally simmered down, the tenseness of his shoulders melting away. You decided to speak up. “What are you doing here?”

Wolf blinked, glanced at James, then, “They called me to organise intel—maybe I should hear the story for myself, since these two get close to flying of the handle at the mention of your-”

“You say one more word and I swear to fuck, Wolf, you’ll eat through a fuckin’ straw for the rest of your miserable life,” Bucky growled, teeth bared.

James rolled his eyes. “Moy Bog, Yasha.” Bucky tensed and looked at James, frowning — much like a kicked puppy. James raised his brows and gestured for you to move towards him, and you followed, settling between the two of them on the couch. “Will you just swallow your pride for just one moment?”

There was a low grumble and Bucky slouched back in surrender, fuming, but quiet.

“Now,” James started again, resting a hand on his knee while the other pointed at the scattered documents on the table in front of you. You hadn’t even noticed them. “Kisa can tell you what happened, and then we can move on, yes?” He looked back up at Wolf and snarled his next words. “Yego neobkhodimo ustranit'. Slishkom mnogoye visit na voloske. Nam ne vazhno, kak, no segodnya vecherom on ispustit posledniy vzdokh... Konets istorii.”

Wolf smirked, a sly thing. “You are slipping back into old habits…” A knife was suddenly embedded into the back of the seat, right next to his head. He cast his eyes towards Bucky. “You missed.”

Bucky was staring straight back; vitriol and fury twisting his features to be inhuman. “Choose your next words very carefully.”

With a sigh, Wolf sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees, lowering his head. That same stare James had perfected looked much more menacing on his pseudo twin — though, with the shorter hair and his stubble, he looked more rugged. “Go on then,” he said, looking at you.

Both James and Bucky reached for you — Bucky rested a hand on your lower back, and James held your hand. “Tell him what happened, dorogya. What he did to you.”

You blinked, and casted your mind back to the beginning of your day; where it all went wrong.

There was a text from your father, from not even five minutes ago, when your phone insistently rang in your hands. Bucky was driving the car and James was sat in the passenger seat when you answered the call.

The bellowing voice of your father in a fit of rage made you drop the phone in shock, and James looked back at you, stony-faced and cold. “Give it to me,” he said softly. You handed it to him and shivered at the rage in your father’s voice as he spoke to James, while James only replied curtly.

He ordered you to his office within the next half hour, and you had no choice but to obey — helpless against the tidal wave of fear for what awaited you behind those giant office doors. Even Beth seemed hesitant to send you through, but you assured her that you would be alright.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

Bucky and James had followed behind you and waited at the door. You hadn’t wanted them to experience first hand just how volatile your father’s rage could be — an explosion at best, a decimation at worst.

The moment you walked through that threshold, you knew you had made a mistake.

He was pacing back and forth behind his desk, and his fists were clenched so tightly you were sure they would be akin to steel. When he looked up and saw you in the entryway, he glared furiously before spitting, “Where have you been?”

You steeled yourself, took a deep breath, and squared your shoulders. Lying would only make the situation worse, so you elected to be truthful. “I was out. James and Bucky were with me–it was just errands.”

“That is bullshit,” he snapped, and he rounded the desk to stand right in front of you. In his fury, he hadn’t been thinking with his sound mind — not like he ever did when it came to his perceived slights on his intelligence. “What the fuck were you doing?”

“I told you,” you said, standing your ground. “I was just out with James and Buck-”

He swung. The pain bloomed across your cheek and you yelped with the intensity — studded diamond rings left indents on the soft tissue and you felt a trickle of blood begin to fall. The second hit to your other cheek was a shock and you stumbled to the floor, landing painfully on your hip with a gasp.

The ringing of your ears blocked out the sound of his furious tirade, but you watched his mouth work furiously around insults and insinuations of incompetency and deceit.

It was then the office doors burst open. Wood splintered and rained down as both doors bounced off the wall, leaving two large dents behind on the plaster.

You looked over at James and Bucky — their gazes flickered between your tear stained face and slumped figure on the carpeted floor of the office, and the reddened, twisted face of your father.

James was the first to speak, and his voice, behind the mask and muffled as it was, dripped with such vitriol that even you shied away. “What did you do? Why is she-” He looked at you again, and those eyes, normally filled with warmth and adoration, were cold in his anger. “She is bleeding.”

The room became tense with furious energy, and you whimpered from the pain of your face. “Get out, you’re not needed right now,” your father barked, ignoring James as he pointed towards the door.

Neither James nor Bucky moved, instead, they slowly advanced. Their steps were careful, calculated and sure.

“I said get out!” your father boomed. “I am not paying you to-”

“You are paying us to watch out for your daughter.” Bucky stepped forward, his shoulders high and broad as he planted himself right in front of the blustering man. James sidestepped to stand in front of you, shielding you from the two men fit to come to blows. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Laying hands on our girl!”

Your father swelled in his anger; face ruddy with rage. “She’s my daughter, the fuck you mean ‘your girl’?” Bucky’s fists clenched and you watched, frozen in horror, as your father squared his own shoulders and swung, hitting Bucky in the shoulder.

“You will never lay a hand on her again, you fucking bastard,” Bucky growled, his voice so deep it reverberated off the walls with it’s implicit threat. “And we will make fucking sure of it, you son of a bitch.”

James was suddenly in your vision, his eyes blank and void, but his hands were soft as he grabbed your elbows. “Up. We need to go.”

The yells and shouts between Bucky and your father had drawn everyone’s attention — clerks and assistants watched you stumble from the office with James who stalked determinedly away from the scene, low murmurs of comforting words keeping you grounded as the lift took you down to the parking garage.

“Breathe, kotenok,” James whispered, holding you to his chest as you shook. “I have you—Bucky will be down soon, and we can take you home.”

In the car, you watched Bucky drive with a stony expression while James spoke on the phone — rapid Russian and commands, none of which you could make out until he hung up and looked at Bucky. “He will meet us tonight.”

Bucky nodded stiffly. “Sooner the fuckin’ better.”

The regalement of the events left a sour taste on your tongue, and you sniffled. “And that’s what happened,” you concluded. The pain in your cheek and hip throbbed in tandem, and you sobbed. “I don’t know why-”

“Well,” Wolf cut in, staring at you, his gaze focusing on the blooming bruises on your cheeks. “No man should lay a hand on a woman. Let’s just state that fact first.”

“Something we can agree on,” Bucky mumbled.

Wolf rolled his eyes. “My intel is as good as you can get. Who’s taking the shot?”

“Wait,” you said, freezing in place. “What do you mean–?” No one answered your question for a moment, and your heart raced. The tension in the room skyrocketed and became unbearable. “What do you mean taking the shot?” you repeated, staring at Wolf.

James leaned forward and pointed at the documents on the table. The one directly on top was a piece of paper, with a fancy header and signatures lined the bottom — it looked official, something from a legal team.

“Your father,” James began quietly, hesitating. “Well, he is… He is not as good natured as everyone else believed.” You couldn’t help the snort of laughter at that observation, and James smirked slightly. “He has been lying to his whole legitimate company, and he has upended the goings of many, many street gangs and he has flipped them into loan sharking. Worse things.” He shuffled the paper to show stills of surveillance footage. There was a body, and your father stood over it. “He has been dirtying his hands.”

“What,” you breathed, looking closely at the picture, then the documents. “Is that a- A will?”

Bucky shuffled forward and pointed at the bottom of another document. “And he is signing his fortune over to you. The legitimate part of his business, anyway. Your father will be going down with the corrupt side of his ventures, and Wolf here will help us.”

You blinked and looked from Bucky, to Wolf, to James. “Are you meaning to tell me that my father, the man that has kept me under his thumb for my whole life, is… He is going to be shot?”

“Yes,” James said simply. “And I am the one that is going to do it.”

Heavy, tangible silence followed James’ statement. Something akin to disbelief forbade the words from settling in your mind — it did not feel real.

“It will be marked as a hit, yes,” Wolf explained, and he leaned forward to pull a case out from underneath the table. “But your father is a real piece of work and he is no way near a fucking saint, I’ll say that much. James here will pose under the guise of a rival mob, contractor, whatever we feed the cops, and you will be able to walk away with clean money and a new life.”

The news of your father’s assassination by the hand of James made you frightened beyond belief, but not for the reason you had expected. No love was lost for the man that had raised you – he had been tyrannical and quick to call all of your shortcomings, that was not what made your stomach roil, nor for your body to break out into a sweat.

“But, what if–if you get caught?” you asked quietly, looking at James.

He smiled. “Kisa, I may have been away from that life for many, many years now, but such skills never leave.” There was a sigh next to you, but you didn’t look at Bucky. “I cannot and I will not stand for what he is. And I would also like you to be free. I have seen how you feel constrained and trapped.”

“The world will be better off without that bastard,” Bucky sneered. “Much better off.”

A thought occurred to you. If your father wasn’t alive to keep them employed… “What about us? I mean,” you rushed, blinking the sudden burn of tears away. “What if he goes and- And I-”

Bucky arched his brows in shock. “Doll, do you really think we’d leave you?” he asked, astonished.

“I don’t know, I-”

“Never,” James whispered. “It will never happen. You are our girl, our sweet Kisa—nothing that happens from now on will change that. We swear to it.” Both men leaned into your space, James kissed you on the temple and Bucky kissed you on the cheek.

“This is lovely and all,” Wolf sighed, gesturing at you. “But the clock’s ticking-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky snapped again, glaring at Wolf. “Just because you’re a lonely son of a bitch does not mean you can come in here-”

“Please don’t fight,” you whispered, and both men looked at you, surprise etched on their faces. “I can’t take it, not tonight.”

Wolf and Bucky looked sheepish, but they continued their plan, involving you in every discussion and every step. It mostly flew over your head, the logistics and placements, but when they concluded, and James stood from the couch to grab that case, you rose with him.

“Be careful, Jamie.” Your arms went around him, and he hugged you back just as tightly. “I can’t lose you.”

“You will not, darling. I am a tough cookie, as you say,” he replied softly, smiling at your small giggle. “Now, you will stay here, with Wolf, and he will update you. It will just be Bucky and I out there.”

You nodded against his chest, and pulled back where he kissed you on the lips. “YA lyublyu tebya, Kisa.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered back.

Bucky then stood next to you and embraced you both. “Let’s go take care of this fucker—free our girl.”

It was half an hour later when both James and Bucky emerged from a room down the hallway. James wore his full tactical suit, mask and goggles included, while Bucky wore his own tactical vest and pants – the flood of black brought out his eyes and since both of their gleaming arms were covered, you guessed they’d be hard pressed to be found.

“Watch our girl, and don’t be a dick,” Bucky warned Wolf, pointing at him.

Wolf raised his hands from his set up on the table, a laptop and comms device next to it. “Scout’s honour.”

You watched, full of trepidation, as they walked out the door, sniper case in hand, towards the car that awaited them under the cover of their garage. Fear coiled up your spine and set your heart racing, a beat against your ribs that you swore would break them.

“Relax,” Wolf said quietly from behind the laptop. For the first time, he looked kind; sincere in his reassurance. “Those two are the best at what they do. They’ll be fine.”

It was a while before you managed to speak once more — too afraid of your voice cracking with the waves of fear that held you like a vice.

“How do you know them?” you asked, curious about their origins. You took a seat next to him and looked at the laptop, it was then you realised it was the live feedback from James’ goggles. “James and Bucky.”

There was a long, long silence before Wolf sighed. “I knew them from another life. James—he was my associate back when… we were not so lucky. He pulled me out.” The computer beeped and the feed changed to be from some kind of scope. “Ah. They’re almost there, James just switched on the rifle,” he explained, pointing at the corner of the screen where text stated where the footage was from. “Anyway, Bucky came back for me at the insistence of James, I guess. We never liked one another but he still saved my ass.”

“I know that they haven’t always been what they are now,” you hedged, fidgeting with your fingers as you watched the split screen of James’ goggles and the scope while he assembled the rifle. “God, I’m so scared, what if they’re found?”

The grin that Wolf sent you made you even more on edge. “Don’t you worry.” He looked back at the screen where you could see James looking down an extended barrel and scope. “James was my mentor.”

Another beep sounded from the laptop and the comms at the same time. “Go for it,” Wolf said, and then there was static.

Bucky’s voice came through, as clear as though he was in the room right next to you. “Target spotted, line secure—are we clear?”

Wolf held a finger to his lips to stop you from cutting in and he said, “Go for it. Position?”

“Intel was correct. Lining the shot,” James replied, and you heard the monotonous tone; felt it in your bones. “Base, are we clear? Where is she?”

“Right here,” Wolf replied. He nodded at you once — an all clear to talk.

“Jamie? Buck?” you ventured, voice small. “Are you two okay?”

“Better than okay, doll,” Bucky replied quietly. “Goin’ dark soon, just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

There was a heavy breath from James’ line, then, “You can leave the room, darling. This will not be pretty.”

“No,” you said sharply. “I want this to be done. I want to be free.”

“‘Atta girl,” Bucky whispered, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Target approaching. Black.”

Bucky’s line cut, then James’, and then a quick succession of events happened all at once. The screen, green and black from the night vision, centred on a lone man walking towards the entrance of an opulent casino. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw the scope shudder from the action of the bolt.

Freedom was seconds away; milliseconds.

“Something’s not right,” Wolf said suddenly, and he pushed the comms device with such force it sent feedback through the lines. He opened his mouth to speak, but it was too late.

The gun in James’ hand fired and the bullet flew towards its intended target, when it happened. Thugs came up behind your father, but the bullet connected with his temple before they could either land a hit or pull him from harm’s way. His body crumpled, landing awkwardly against the blood splattered wall.

You could see the thugs raise their guns and search for the shooter, when they pointed their sights towards an alley. “Fuck,” Wolf hissed. “Bucky—that’s his- Fuck.”

The scope feed became blurred with movement, and you could make out James’ black boots and thigh holsters as he ran from his perch atop the building and into the streets.

“No, sit down,” Wolf suddenly ordered, and you blinked. You hadn’t even realised you had begun to stand, nor had you realised your mouth was open in a silent scream. “Just stay here. They’ve got this. Something must have given Bucky away.”

You watched, heart in your throat, as the feed from James’ goggles showed he was sprinting to the scene where Bucky was locked in a firefight with the thugs. It happened so quickly you didn’t even have time to blink when there was the muzzle flash of James’ Skorpion, and bodies fell, toppling like dominoes.

“Oh, my god,” you breathed, shuddering. “They’re okay, please—they have to be okay!”

Bucky came into view of the camera, and he appeared unscathed. He didn’t even have a limp in his gait or a trace of blood on his face. Static came from the comms machine and then James’ voice came through. “Clear, unharmed.” The cam showed James stalking towards your father’s body, and you closed your eyes.

“He’s checking that he is down,” Wolf said quietly, and you nodded, not needing to see the moment James checked for a pulse.

“Target down. We are headed back,” James said monotonously, and the laptop beeped once more. You glanced at it to see the feed cut, leaving a plain screen with lines of numbers and letters.

It was a heart wrenching wait for them to come back. You stood at the door, pacing back and forth while Wolf cleared up the paperwork and packed away his tech. A low rumble of an engine came into earshot and your heart picked up at the nearness, when it cut out. Footsteps followed straight after, and then the front door opened.

Bucky was standing there, nonplussed and not even scuffed from the fight, and James was right behind him, sniper case in hand. His goggles and mask were off, too.

“You’re back.” You launched yourself into Bucky’s arms and he staggered. “You’re back! Oh god, you’re back!”

With them back within reach and safe, your heart seemed to leap and bound in relief. You could only repeat the mantra in between kissing them; ever grateful for the last chain to be cut from your wings, allowing you to spread them.

You turned to Wolf and smiled. “Thank you for this, for keeping them safe.”

He shrugged and held out the paperwork, and you took it, the very top document being the will that you realised was no doubt forged, but it left you with clean, indisputable funds while his business crumbled. His time had come, the double life he had led would no longer hurt the innocent. “You’re welcome. Enjoy being a free woman.”

James and Bucky walked him out, and James handed the case back over. “You will not hear from me again.”

Wolf only grinned and walked out the door, calling back over his shoulder, “I doubt that.”

The door slammed closed and James collected you into his arms. “I think it is time to relax.”

“Agreed,” Bucky huffed, cracking his neck.

After showering and setting up a marathon of movies, the three of you laid in bed together, mulling over the events of the night.

The loss of your father you would have expected to hit harder, be more painful, and the lack of sorrow worried you. You voiced as such, and the two men were silent for a time.

“You will feel it when you least expect it,” Bucky offered carefully, a thoughtful furrow in his brow. “Kitten, he was a piece a’work, a vile man. And while he may have had his time coming, there was no way on heaven or earth were we going to let him walk free after laying a hand on you—his own fuckin’ daughter.”

The words were comforting, and you burrowed closer to them when James turned to you.

“You are free now, Kisa,” James whispered, holding you close. His thumb brushed your cheek and there was such affection in his gaze that you couldn’t help but preen. “Free to be who you wish, free to be you.”

Bucky shuffled closer — effectively pinning you in place between them. “And we’re always goin’ to be here, doll,” he whispered soothingly, and James hummed an ascent. “Don’t you worry about that. Now you’ve got a new life to lead, and we’re goin’ to be there every step of the way.”

You decided then, in that moment, that you were excited for what laid ahead.

yego neobkhodimo ustranit'. slishkom mnogoye visit na voloske. nam ne vazhno, kak, no segodnya vecherom on ispustit posledniy vzdokh... konets istorii = he needs to be eliminated. too much hangs in the balance. we don't care how, but tonight he will take his last breath... end of story.