pairing: enforcer!bucky barnes x fem!reader; mob boss!nick fowler x fem!reader
warnings?: major character death(s), suicide, fighting, drinking, pet name (sweetheart/topolina), not proofread
If Nick Fowler were to be described in a single word, nervous would be far, far removed from the word bank people would pull from. Nick Fowler was cool, calm, collected. He was suave. He oozed confidence. He knew what he wanted, and he always got it. But in the days since getting you, it seemed like that unfamiliar feeling was suddenly becoming his closest friend and ally. And that feeling had never been stronger than on the day of his wedding.
You had been so, so good for him lately. Though he had been reluctant to bring in a therapist, he had to admit he was wrong. It was doing you good, to talk about the feelings you weren't yet comfortable to talk to him about. It hurt, sure. All he wanted was for you to love him the way he loved you. For you to be his sweet, little topolina who would do anything to make him happy, just as he would do for you. Barnes had halted his plans to make you his, but now you seemed to finally be coming around to him.
You weren't all the way there, of course. You don't fight as much as you did before. You don't initiate any affection with him. But you didn't deny him as much, either. It was progress. Progress that he welcomed as much as he welcomed the changes you were making to the manor. If it meant that you would learn to be happy with him, he would let you do anything he wanted.
Which was why he let you to stay at a hotel the night before the big day. Something about how you wanted to be away from the general craziness and just get ready for your big day. He was sure it wasn't you idea, that perhaps Peter had whispered something to you, given that you hadn't ever brought it up before. But he owned a hotel in the area, and if it meant that you wouldn't be upset during the big day, Nick was more than happy to let you have your space on the promise that you would keep him updated.
And yet, you had done the one thing he told you not to do. You didn't keep him updated. You hadn't said a word to him after you reported that you were awake and you were waiting for your hair and makeup artist to arrive. You hadn't said a single word since. And every one of his men he spoke to said that they hadn't heard from you either.
You were testing him, and he didn't like that. Not one bit.
Especially now, as he stood at the altar, watching the doors, waiting for them to open. Nick was keenly aware of all the eyes on him. He knew everyone was expecting you. He was expecting you. And for you to be so late? It was humiliating.
You'd better have a damn good reason for being late, he thought to himself, trying to figure out what to do to quell the anxieties of the crowd.
Finally, he stepped forward, saying to the crowd of attendees, "It seems my topolina has gotten lost. Excuse me while I step out to call her driver."
Nick left the altar, walking to the front of the church to try and see if there was any sign of you. But all he could find was Peter Parker, looking around wildly, as if he, too, didn't know where the hell you were. And oh, that upset Nick. That upset Nick a lot.
"Where the hell is she, Parker?"
The kid said nothing. And, god, that pissed Nick off even more. He grabbed Peter by the collar of his shirt, his hand falling to the gun holstered on his hip.
"Tell me where the fuck my topolina is now, or you'll regret it."
Peter still said nothing, until Nick pulled out his gun, shoving it under Peter's chin.
"I-I lost her," he finally said.
"What the hell do you mean by that!?"
But before Peter could answer, a flurry of sirens sounded down the street.
"I think you know."
Earlier...
You were surprised when Nick let you stay at a hotel room the night before the wedding. But, you mused, he had also been giving you more freedom nowadays. You supposed that was your reward for being compliant. You viewed it more as a punishment, though. What was the point of freedom when everything you ever could have wanted was taken from you? What was the point of freedom when you had no need to be free?
There was nothing left in the world for you.
Though, you did enjoy having the night away from being suffocated by Nick's endless affection. It was nice to have the space to breathe. But what came with that space? The feeling that your lungs were going to collapse in on themselves? It made you want to die.
You couldn't sleep that night. Every time you closed your eyes, you thoughts were plagued by him. He filled your mind, his bright blue eyes twinkling at you, a smile curved on his face. He stood with you, wearing the best tux he could afford. He reached out, holding your face in his hands. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, leaning down, the words I love you unspoken but crystal clear.
It made you want to vomit. Thinking of Bucky.
You knew now that he didn't love you. You wondered if he ever did. Well, okay. Maybe he did love you. Once upon a time, maybe his love was real. But the more you thought about it, the more you pondered on what you saw in that alleyway, the stronger your belief was in what you saw.
Bucky was alive. You knew it. You never saw him again, you never heard from it. And that made it all the more damning. Bucky was alive, and he no longer loved you. Because how could a person ever let the one they love suffer the way you have?
By the time dawn broke, the sun rising in the sky, you hadn't gotten an ounce of sleep. How could you? When your fate was about to be sealed forever? Bucky didn't love you, and you were going to be forced into a marriage you never would have asked for.
As soon as I do was said, you would be trapped. Forever.
"Are you excited?" Peter asked.
You looked up from your phone, having sent Nick a text that you were awake, that you were waiting on hair and makeup. It was a condition on you being allowed to stay at the hotel for the night. Nick wasn't keen on it. He wouldn't tell you why, but Peter eventually explained that a syndicate was rising up, hoping to take Nick out of the picture. So Nick wasn't keen on you being away from him, not when you were his only weakness. You hoped that the rising syndicate was successful. You would love nothing more than for Nick to feel the pain he makes you feel every damn day.
That same pain.
Huh.
That was a thought.
"As excited I would be to walk straight into the lion's den."
Peter frowned. "Y/N..."
"We don't have to keep fooling ourselves into thinking this is something I want. You and I both know that this life...It will never make me happy. No matter how much I let Nick believe it does."
"You shouldn't say things like that. You know he always finds out, and I don't want him to hurt you."
"He hurts me everyday, whether he means to or not." You looked out the window, watching as the city began to awake. "When does the hair stylist arrive?"
"An hour. Why?"
"I'd like to go for a drive."
Peter nodded. "I'll go call for the driver."
"I would like to drive alone."
"I can't let you do that. Nick would kill me if I let you out of my sight."
"Why does he have to know? You wouldn't tell him, would you? Not when you say you don't want him to hurt me?"
Peter chewed on his lip. "Well, no—"
"Give me the keys to your car then. I just need some time to myself. I need to do something. I can't just sit her, be the quiet little mouse. I need to just...be free. Just one more time. It's all I want, Peter. It's the only thing I'll ask for."
Peter reached into his pocket, slowly pulling his keys out. He placed them into your hands, saying, "Thirty minutes. You get thirty minutes, and then you have to come back. Okay?"
You weren't planning on coming back though, you mused as you got in his car, driving down the street. You weren't ever coming back. You needed to get away. You needed Nick to feel the same pain that you felt every fucking day since he killed Bucky. You needed Bucky to feel the agony of losing someone, of knowing that they would never share the love you were once so sure was true, was real. You wanted to rip everything they could have had away from them. You wanted to hurt them the way they had hurt you.
"But I'll never be free," you whispered.
Nick would track you down to the ends of the Earth if need be. He would do anything to make you his. You had seen it first hand. You had felt the pain he was willing to inflict on you, the object of his affection, when you were in his grasp. What would he do if you left? If you got away? If you abandoned him at the altar on your wedding day?
You were barely conscious of your foot pressing harder and harder on the gas pedal. What was the speed limit? Was there a speed limit? As you sped out of the city, the buildings and trees blurring by you, you wondered what would happen if you would fully commit to it.
If you would fully commit to the pain you wished to inflict.
If you let go.
If you gave in.
You looked at the sharp turn you were approaching. There was no way you could slow in time. You weren't sure you wanted to. You knew you didn't want to. Instead...
You wanted to let go, and you did.
And as you hurtled off the road, the car tumbling down the embankment, your head smacking against the steering wheel, a smile stretched across your face.
Finally...
You were free.
Now...
peter: im sorry. she didn't make it.
Bucky frowned as he stared at his phone. When Peter had told him earlier that you had practically begged to go for a drive by yourself so you could clear your head, he wanted to rip Peter's head off. Then when Peter told him that he couldn't find you? Oh, he wanted to fucking kill the kid. He had one job. One singular job, and that was to keep you safe until he could come get you.
"FUCK!" Bucky shouted, throwing his phone at the wall. The phone clattered on the ground, its screen cracked, a sizeable hole now in the wall. The phone chimed and, reluctantly, Bucky walked over, picking it up, reading the message.
peter: fowler's at the bar near the church. in case you wanted to go through with the rest of the plan.
"I won't stop you," Steve said, seeing the look in his friend's eye.
"He's the reason she's dead."
"I know."
"None of this would have happened if he wasn't a selfish bastard."
"I know."
"If he wasn't so selfish...If he realized that she never would love him, she might be here still." Bucky tried to swallow down his sob. "She might have been happy still if not for him."
Steve nodded, reaching out, squeezing his friend's shoulder. "I think you know what you have to do."
"I'm going to make him pay."
Bucky wasn't sure how he got to the bar. He wasn't sure if he ran or if he took a car or if he called an Uber. All he knew was that he was standing outside the establishment, staring into the window, watching as Nick threw back a shot.
Fucking pathetic. How could he do this? How could he not be mourning you? In the hours of losing you, he goes to a bar? Did he still delude himself with the idea of having loved you? Did he know now that he never deserved you?
Bucky threw the door open, the glass door shattering as it slammed against the wall. All eyes turned on him. All except for Nick.
"FOWLER!" Bucky shouted, stomping up to the bar. He grabbed the man, yanking him off the stool, dragging him out the door to the alleway. No one stopped him. It seemed like they all thought they had seen a ghost. "I hope you're fucking happy!"
"Am I dead?" Nick coughed out when Bucky threw him to the ground.
"You're going to wish you were," Bucky snarled, landing a kick to his stomach.
"I must be dead if I'm seeing you," he said. "Have I gone to hell?"
Bucky wondered how much he had drank if he thought he was seeing hallucinations. "Hell would be too kind for you. She was too kind for you."
A blind rage filled Bucky as he landed hit after hit after hit on Nick. "She was perfect. Fucking perfect. She was happy. And you fucking took that from you. YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM HER. And now she's gone? And you can fucking do is drink? How could you say you ever loved her?"
"I would have given her everything," Nick said, spitting out blood, trying to fight back, but the alcohol dulling his reaction times, his ability to land blows.
"You gave her nothing she wanted. She was happy with me."
"And you think she would still be? She chose neither of us."
"She didn't know the truth."
The light was fading from Nick's eyes. "And now she never will."
"And that will be my burden to bear. But you will never hurt anyone like you hurt her. Never again."
Nick's body fell limp.
Bucky stood to his full height, wiping off the blood on his hands. He let out a shuddering breath. It was done. He pulled out his phone, dialing Steve's number. "You got your in. Good luck with this shit."
"What will you do?" Steve asked.
"I'm done with this shit. I'm leaving town, like I planned." Bucky sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, a tear escaping. "But first...I suppose I have a funeral to plan."
This was his life now, it seemed. And there was no way to get out of it. Not when he, and Nick, and Peter, and Steve he supposed, ruined everything. Not when they all ruined a perfectly good woman in a foolish attempt at power and love and all the rest.
Bucky would live with this for the rest of his life. He played with the wolf, and he lost everything. After all, everyone knows what it is said about the big bad wolf.
The mouse never stood a chance.