multi-fandom oneshots

charming (bucky barnes)

summary: in which you're a girl in need of protection, and Bucky's the perfect man for the job.

pairing: bodyguard!bucky x reader

word count: 14.6k

warnings: reader is a spoiled brat, 1 (one) assassination attempt, bucky beats somebody up, name calling, SMUT (name calling, mild choking, spanking, decently mild for bodyguard!bucky if i'm being honest)

note: heylo i will have a lil glossary at the bottom for all the russian used (i used google translate so dont bully me pls) AND ALSO if u want to know what bucky wears most of the time i based it off iconic zaddy john wicks all black getup <3

You'd had an inkling of a suspicion that something was... not right.

Calls suddenly ended when you entered a room, talking coming to a finish, secretive cheques left just out of sight on your father's desk. Last week at dinner, he was called to a separate table — only one man sitting there, stout and bald but... terrifying. Covered in tattoos and wearing a big, chunky ring that even you could see from your position. The table was surrounded by men, too, hard-faced and still and equally as scary.

You'd watched, frowning, only a cup of wine to keep you company as your father sat and talked for the next 30 minutes, missing the first course. Things looked tense. And those men looked dangerous. Not the type of people a senator looking to be re-elected would associate himself with — no, not at all.

"What was that about?" You asked when he sat down again, casting one last scrutinizing glance over your shoulder at the mysterious man. He caught your eye, and raised a glass, and the only thing you could do was attempt a weak smile.

"Nothing, princess. Nothing at all." It was extremely obvious that it was the exact opposite. He plucked the menu up from the table, a silent order to let it go. "Hm, the coq au vin looks good."

And that was that.

Nothing at all turns out to be Vadim Stepanchikov — better known in the New York area as the leader of the Russian mafia, at least underneath his watertight cover as a businessman specialising in the sale of foreign cars. Over a lunch of shrimp gemelli and Chardonnay, your father breaks the news to you — tries to make it seem like such a small, trivial thing that it almost makes you laugh. We've got some new benefactors, princess. They're... they're in the security business.

You almost snorted. Security. If security was drug-running and arms dealing and torture and bashing in people's skulls, then yes. Vadim Stepanchikov is the most secure man in the city, and your father is on his payroll—

And that's when the threats start coming.

"Princess, this is Bucky. Bucky'll be your new bodyguard."

Bucky is a 6 foot something behemoth of a man. Thick and muscular and tall and did you mention thick? Wearing an all black suit, his feet shoulder width apart and hands clasped behind his back — impossibly still, like a statue. Thick tattoos wind up the space of neck left available to see — and, you find with a glance, trail across his hands. You guess the rest of him is covered like that, too — and if you knew anything about your father's new ally, you have a good guess as to where he got them.

(Prison. He got them in prison.)

Dark black hair — long, you note, tied into a bun at the nape of his neck. (You almost want to make fun of him for it but you're the one that's finding it attractive, for some reason, so really it would just be a personal roast.) Blue eyes, almost shockingly blue, set under thick, harsh eyebrows and decently long eyelashes. A hard, square jaw, and a strong aquiline nose — lips pink and flushed, which is kinda cute, but his overall extremely dangerous and slightly murderous demeanour cancels it out.