we’re gonna be okay
a small winterspider thing i couldn’t get out of my head
pairing: winterspider (bucky x peter), background peter x anonymous dominant word count: 887 rating: M warnings: implied abusive relationship (not winterspider), d/s au, injuries/peter!whump, clubbing/alcohol, implied safewording during a scene i’ll put it here on ao3 too
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“Damned brat,” the curse travels across the club, loud as the music is, and Bucky is immediately on high alert. There’s a man striding away from a semi-private playroom and towards the bar, sweat dripping from his shoulders and brow as he fumes, throwing himself onto a barstool.
Bucky quickly checks the reservation listings, noting that the raging dominant in front of him had booked the room for an hour.
It hasn’t even been half of that time.
The most worrying thing, top of Bucky’s priority list right now, is that the dominant is alone sitting at the bar.
“Steve,” he grabs his friend, another House Dominant for the club they work at, “go check on that guy at the bar. I’m about 95% sure he just walked out on a scene.”
Steve raises an eyebrow but otherwise doesn’t question the command, already turning to inspect the guilty party. Bucky makes his way over to the playroom.
As he approaches, he notices several couples and singles crowded around the doorway, whispering among themselves. “Move it,” Bucky growls, making sure to lace his tone with enough Dominant command that there’s no question of his authority.
The crowd parts from him, and he can immediately see what the commotion was about.
He sees red.
There’s a small man— young, no older than twenty, he would wager— curled up on the floor of the padded room, completely bare. Several tools for impact play are scattered around him, and Bucky can already see bruising across his ribs— both old and new wounds, if he’s judging the colouring right.
“Fuck,” Bucky swears. In his four years of working with this particular nightclub, he’s never seen something this messed up.
He hits the panic button on the door to the room, quickly scanning his badge as the privacy doors shut around them. The room is soundproof once everything is closed, and Bucky can hear small choked sobs coming from the submissive in front of him— stifled, as if he’s afraid to be heard crying.
Taking a deep breath, Bucky forces himself to calm down. No use trying to solve this problem if his anger just upsets the poor boy further.
Protocols. Right.
Bucky grabs a warm blanket and bottle of water. He sets them nearby, kneeling in front of the submissive but still out of arm’s reach.
“Hey, kid,” he rumbles, trying to keep his voice low and disarming. The boy still flinches, and it’s all Bucky can do not to eviscerate the dominant responsible for this. “Hey, my name is Bucky. Can I see your eyes, kid? Just need to know you can hear me.”
Deep, sorrowful brown eyes meet his, and Bucky’s breath hitches. Oh damn, this guy is gorgeous. “Good boy,” he can’t help soothing, and watches as the submissive shivers at the praise.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
He gets a wide eyed blink in response before the sub whispers, “Peter.”
“So good, Peter. Thank you. I work for this club—” Bucky points at his shirt first, and then the badges he wears, “— and we’ve had to intervene in this scene for your health as a submissive. I’m a House Dom, meaning that by agreeing to the club’s terms and conditions I’m legally responsible for your aftercare if your chosen dominant is unavailable to finish the scene. Do you understand what this means, Peter?”
The boy in front of him just nods, barely moving, “Yes, sir.”
God, he’s so precious and so good. “Thank you, Peter. I won’t do anything without asking your permission, but I need to reiterate that if you drop, you’ve legally agreed for me to take appropriate action on your behalf.”
When Peter’s eyes start to glaze over at his words, Bucky knows he only has a few moments before he loses his window of communication. Damn horrible dominant. “Can I touch you, Peter?”
“Yessir,” Peter breathes out, his words a bit more slurred, and Bucky moves as quickly as possible to wrap him up, avoiding the new bruising as much as he can.
He folds the blanket around a few times, breathing deep to calm himself down as Peter wiggles to get closer, chasing the small amount of comfort and warmth that Bucky is providing.
“It’s okay, shh,” Bucky coos, “you’re safe now.”
With the small bundle of sad submissive wrapped up in his lap, Bucky presses the bottle of water against his lips, “Take a few sips for me, sweetheart. C’mon, that’s a good boy.”
Peter drinks without opening his eyes, sipping slowly as Bucky pets his hair, whispering praises mindlessly. How could someone abandon such a sweet boy like this? Fuck, and in public, too.
Once the bottle of water is almost empty, Bucky stands, lifting Peter with him, and walks towards the back exit. He easily types in the override code, opening the private employee entrance that leads to the aftercare rooms.
“M’gonna hold you a bit more,” Bucky explains, not even sure if Peter can understand him at this point, “gonna stay with you, make sure you’re feeling okay, then we’ll figure this out together. You’re gonna be okay.”
He’s not sure who the words are for— him or Peter— but when the sweet boy in his arms smiles, curling into his chest, Bucky exhales his relief.
“We’re gonna be okay.”
