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purple-babygirl · 5 months

Text

in the far corner of the forest V

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 7,790 (you love me)

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: 18+ content, mentions of bruised skin, idiots in love, feels, a little crying, a little angst, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (don't do that), multiple orgasms. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part so far and no condolences to the jealous (iykyk) i love and appreciate you guys with my whole heart. also i suck at smut so please pretend to be aroused as you wait for the next part, thank you. please enjoy xx💜💜

She wiped her tears away, remembering Bucky’s words as she tried to calm down.

She bit her lip as her chest tightened at the pain she had heard in his voice, deeply regretting her part of the fight.

Did he really think she thought he was without feelings?

She might have seen him as a monster before, but that was in the very beginning when she didn’t know him at all, and she soon came to realize that she was wrong. Very wrong.

Her orc wasn’t a monster by any means. Not even close. If anything, it was the complete opposite. She saw him as a resilient soldier and admired the way he never lost the good things about him at war. To her, Bucky was a warrior; a hero.

Human or not, of course she treasured and cared about his feelings!

Bucky took care of her, brought her gifts without her ever asking, made her feel seen and heard and most of all liked. Loved even. He made her feel like she was some awesome friend worth laughing with and talking to.

She wanted to make sure that she made him feel the same way too. She couldn’t let him continue to believe the words he had said to her.

She opened the door of the cottage and looked outside, but Bucky was nowhere to be found. She sighed, shutting the door again and pressing her back to it as she thought about her next steps.

Life with Bucky was what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that truth.

She fetched the cloth she had tossed away before moving back to the kitchen.

She had only known real happiness alongside Bucky and she was going to let him know that. She was going to whip the cream for that cake even if they had to do without berries.

She was almost done smoothing the whipped cream over the cake when she heard the door to the cottage open and close.

She quickly rinsed her hands, ready to go out and make things right.

When she stepped out of the kitchen, however, she was met by the most endearing view she could have ever been met with and it rendered her speechless.

Her large snow orc was standing before her with a blush on his cheeks and a tiny fruit basket between his giant arms.

It was full of mixed berries.

She couldn’t hide her happy surprise as she stared at the sight before her, her mouth opening and closing a few times.

“Bucky?” She finally whispered his name, breaking the silence, her voice soft and laced with love.

Damn, that orc could steal hearts.

“I— uhh— borrowed the basket from Sarah,” Bucky muttered, pushing the basket forward for her to take as he avoided eye contact.

He really sucked at this and he knew it, but he was trying. He desperately wanted to make everything better. He knew he couldn’t take the yelling or the bruising back, but he badly needed to fix what he had so stupidly ruined, and the berries were his best bet.

She appreciatively took the basket out of his hand, hugging it to her chest.

“I’m sorry if they’re not as good as the ones you picked. It’s— it’s my first time uhm— picking berries,” Bucky admitted lowly, gesturing with his hands as his eyes wandered anywhere but on her, afraid of meeting her eyes and finding them disappointed or fearful still.

It was true. It was his first time doing any of this. Bucky was a rough orc. He did hunting, not foraging.

“They’re perfect,” she replied without even looking at the fruits, the gesture itself enough for her as she realized that under all this beef, her orc had hid a heart of gold and a softness to die for.

Bucky only nodded awkwardly, still unable to meet her eyes. He didn’t know how to act or what to say.

He was a soldier. He used to give orders and expect results, he didn’t do apologies or pluck raspberries as gently as possible in order not to squish them between his huge fingers.

She silently took the basket to the kitchen, a smile covering her face as her heart jumped.

Bucky walked in after her, leaning on the door frame and watching as she emptied the berries in a bowl and washed them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of their earlier argument hanging heavy in the air.

“How’s your arm?” Bucky asked softly, swallowing in the fear of having left some serious damage on her.

Her smile faltered for a second when she remembered the way he had so harshly grabbed and held her, “it’s gonna be okay. Just a tiny bruise.” She reassured still, not wanting him to feel bad anymore.

Bucky’s fingers trembled as he ran a rough hand through his unkempt hair, the weight of his actions weighing heavily on his conscience.

“I hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with remorse. “I shouldn't have grabbed you like that. I really am sorry, little human.” Bucky sincerely apologized again.

Before she could reply, he stepped closer, taking hold of her hand before lowering his lips to her forearm.

The feeling of Bucky’s tusks ever so softly digging into her skin as Bucky left tender kisses all over the abused area made her shiver.

“I’m sorry; I’m a fool,” Bucky said into her skin as he pressed another kiss, “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.” He pressed one final kiss before letting her arm go, “I will never doubt you again, sweet thing. Please forgive me.”

He stood there with the bluest puppy eyes, silently begging for her clemency as his hands hugged hers.

“I forgive you, Bucky.” She nodded with a shy smile, her own guilt gnawing at her insides as the fire that had rose on her skin in the wake of Bucky’s lips dissipated.

“It scared me when I came home and didn’t find you. I— I thought you were leaving me again.” He confessed lowly, “I didn’t know what to think.”

“I know. I should’ve at least left a note,” she thought out loud, her head down in regret, “I thought I would be home before you arrived so I didn’t feel the need to write one. I’m sorry, Bucky.” She gave his hand a desperate squeeze, “I really didn’t mean to scare you or make you feel like I was running away.”

“It’s okay.” Bucky smiled softly, regretting how poorly he had reacted as he brought her hand to his lips.

She was amazing. His night’s firefly.

“I don’t think of you as someone who doesn’t have feelings, Bucky,” she blurted out, her voice quivering with sincerity. “The kindness you show me... it's unlike anything I've ever known from humans. It's genuine, and real, and it's the reason I wanna be with you.”

Bucky listened in silence, an appreciative smile breaking on his handsome face.

“I care about you, Bucky, and I respect your feelings more than you know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t.”

“I didn’t want to keep you when you didn’t want to stay, but it still hurt every time you left,” Bucky finally voiced his thoughts, sharing a part of his feelings and fears with her.

“Who—” She stopped to clear her throat, “who said I don’t wanna stay?”

“So you wanna be here for good? With me?” Bucky’s eyes lit up with hope as he intently watched her.

“Well, I made a cake, didn’t I?” She wouldn’t let her eyes meet his as she placed the berries on top of the smooth cake, her heart drumming in her chest.

“Let me hear it, sweet thing,” Bucky begged, unable to believe what he was hearing from her despite everything that has happened.

“I thought I’ve said it before,” she tried to tease, “and I’m wearing your ring, Bucky,” she chuckled shyly, her face hot.

Bucky kept waiting, wordlessly pleading her to tell him the words he so badly needed to hear.

She looked at him and saw passion drawn all over his face and she could only imagine she looked the same.

“I… wanna be here… with you, Bucky, for good,” she said before biting her lip, her own admittance sending a shudder down the back of her hot neck.

The simple sentence hit Bucky like a warm cup of cocoa on a stormy evening as he smiled.

He grabbed her hand and gave the palm of it a long kiss, getting berry residue on his cheek.

Thankfully, she didn’t take her hand away, giggling softly as her orc got his skin stained.

She smiled timidly when he pulled away, wiping his cheek clean with her other thumb.

“I know I haven’t made it easy for you, Bucky, but you’ve got to trust me. I don’t wanna leave you, not now, not ever.”

Bucky nodded, his heart soaring at the reassurance, “I trust you, little human.”

“Let’s eat our cake?” She asked, biting her lip.

Our. It was the first time she has ever used that word.

Bucky nodded with a grateful smile of his own, carefully carrying the cake out to the table outside.

She grabbed plates, forks and a knife and followed him.

Her heart was beating like crazy, yet it was the most relieved it had ever been now that they have made up.

She handed Bucky the knife and he cut through the cake.

She took the chance that he was busy and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, her lips lingering against his warm skin for a fleeting moment, “welcome home”.

Bucky could feel his chest burning up with the love it held for her.

For years, he had believed himself unworthy of love, of kindness, of anything resembling happiness. But in that short second with her lips on his cheek, he felt a twinkle of hope ignite within him, dispersing the darkness that had cloaked his heart for years.

The commotion that happened earlier had made him forget all about his kiss, but she didn’t.

She kissed him and with a smile too.

Bucky was love-sick, her gentle features stirring unparalleled emotions inside of him, softening his rough edges without even trying.

With a hesitant hand, he reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against the smooth skin in a silent promise of devotion. And as she leaned into his touch, cupping his hand with her tiny one, Bucky took an oath to cherish her, to protect her, and to love her with every fiber of his being for as long as he lived.

“Is there anyone around left from your tribe that I can meet?” She asked after Bucky had filled their plates with cake, interested to know more about her husband’s life as she handed him his fork.

She couldn’t help her curiosity anymore. She cared about Bucky and she needed to know why he was out here on his own. Where was his clan? Did he even have one? Do they know about her?

“No, just the two very close human friends,” Bucky sighed his answer before slipping a raspberry in his mouth, his thoughts running to his clan; the clan that had rejected and abandoned him years ago.

Okay, but where were the orcs? Now she was more curious and confused.

“What about your family?”

“You’re my family,” Bucky answered without hesitancy and she felt her heart flood with love as she speechlessly stared at his face.

“Where did you see me?” She wondered aloud, her tone hushed as she ached to know how and when he got to choose her.

“At the orphanage,” he started, a smile already spreading on his face as he recalled the memory, “me and Sam were delivering chairs and a few beds for the new rooms they had built.”

She listened, knowing exactly what he was talking about. She was part of the group that was instructed to clean the new building.

“I had just taken a bed down from the truck when I felt something drop on my head and before I knew it, it was raining. I was wiping the raindrops off my forehead.” Bucky’s fork played around with the berries on his plate before he looked up and into her eyes, “and I let my arm down and there you were, breathtaking as a daydream, laughing with another girl as you both ran inside before the rain could catch you.”

“How did I not see you?” She whispered, eyes welling up at the adoration she could see in his gaze.

“You were too busy being scared of the rain,” Bucky teased, “but I saw you.” Bucky’s thumb stroke drown her cheek, “I saw you and I knew I just had to see you again.”

“So that was when you asked the manager if I could be your wife?” She bit her lip, the thought now flattering to her rather than appalling as it used to be.

“No, that was when I intentionally slammed a chair down on the concrete and broke it to pieces so we could be one chair short and I could come again and hopefully sneak another peek at you.” Bucky laughed, remembering Sam’s reaction as he watched the chair he had so carefully put together get smashed down, “Sam wasn’t so happy about me destroying his work”.

“Oh my gods,” she laughed with him, feeling bad for poor Sam.

“Yeah, he didn’t believe me when I said I dropped it, swore he wasn’t coming with me that next time and everything. It was a whole thing.” Bucky shook his head as his laughter faded into a soft smile.

“Can’t blame him.” She shrugged with a grin.

“He was fine.” Bucky waved his hand in the air, “I honestly only cared that I’d secured myself a chance to come back.” He admitted unapologetically.

“And did you see me when you came back?” She asked, her elbow on the table and her cheek resting on her hand, cake long forgotten.

“Yeah, I had to sneak to the back to see you, but I did. You were even more beautiful that day,” Bucky told her, making her blush under his affectionate gaze, “you had a messy flower crown on top of your head and you were taking laundry down from the clothesline. You were so focused as you tried to pull the clothes down without getting on your tiptoes,” he chuckled, recalling how cute she was as she struggled to reach the peg clips.

“Hey! They hung that clothesline way too high! No one could reach it!” She shook her head.

“Yeah, I’m sure they couldn’t,” Bucky teased, laughing at her defensive reply.

“They couldn’t, I swear! Not just me!”

“I believe you,” Bucky said with a provocative smile.

“You’re annoying.” She pouted, digging her fork in her cake slice.

“Nah, you’re just too little, little human.” Bucky teased again and she couldn’t help her smile.

It was all making sense now as she admired his gorgeous grin: the yearning for Bucky’s touch when he wasn’t there, the longing for his presence that had replaced her previous fear or repulsion, and the way she so desperately looked forward to the weekends so they could hold hands as they walked and talked could only mean one thing.

She was in love. She was in love with Bucky and she didn’t want to run from that feeling.

“I— I think I’m in love with you,” she admitted in a tiny whisper.

A smile lit Bucky’s face up before he gave her forehead a long kiss, trying to convey his adoration for her as he held her close to him, “I know I’m in love with you, little human.” He sighed in her hair.

He couldn’t believe she said it and he couldn’t believe she said it first. He couldn’t believe how far they have come and how beautiful life could be.

But he knew now and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Bucky finally had someone who loved him and cared about him; someone he could trust and surrender his heart to.

She stood on her tiptoes, making him chuckle as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him so close that he could feel her heartbeat.

“They renounced me a long time ago,” Bucky whispered in her hair, feeling brave enough to open up to her about his past.

Her heart sank at the gut-wrenching piece of information.

“What?” She pulled away in shock, “why?”

Her mind couldn’t wrap itself around the idea of a clan having Bucky and willingly letting him go.

“My mother was a human; wanted to name me James, but she died during my birth, heart condition,” he started, closing his eyes to stop his tears from forming, “they eventually did name me James, but I think I never liked it. My grandma gave me the name Bucky, from my middle name ‘Buchanan’. She was the one who raised me because me and my father weren’t close. He could never forgive me for taking my mother away from him, I guess.” Bucky shrugged, swallowing his emotions.

She listened silently, her own tears brimming. What kind of father does that? Bucky had already lost his mother and instead of being there for him, his father made him lose him too?!

“Before I knew it, I’m a teenager and my father had passed away and my grandma before him… I had no one left and my cousins weren’t about to let the half-orc with the human mother become chief.” Bucky sighed as he recalled the events of his youth.

She stayed in his arms, hands on his chest as she listened closely, her heart breaking at the expression on her orc’s face.

“And when I started ‘working with the humans’, they found the perfect reason to kick me out of the clan for good.” He finished with a sad smile, shaking his head as if to shake the memories away.

“That was when you started fighting for the kingdom?” She asked, softly running the back of her fingers down Bucky’s cheek as a tear rolled down her own.

“Had nowhere else to go.” Bucky shrugged with a teary smile, trying to pull himself together.

“But that was where you met Sam, right?” She reminded with a tender smile, her thumb tracing his stubbly chin.

Bucky nodded with a chuckle, “yeah, used to drive me crazy at first, but he was a good soldier; an even better friend.”

“And then you opened your shop.” She tilted her head, her fingers catching the tips of Bucky’s soft hair by his shoulder.

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, reminiscing at how things have turned out.

“And you started making beautiful furniture that you needed to deliver to the orphanage, where you saw me.” She grinned fondly, a fingertip tracing the orc’s nose.

“Yes.” Bucky sighed, his love pouring out of his dewy eyes as he enjoyed the light touches.

“And now I’m here with you, in our home,” she brought both palms to Bucky’s cheeks, “and I will never leave you, Bucky,” she told him seriously before getting on her tiptoes to hug him again, “I’m your family and you’re mine.” She whispered into his neck.

“I love you,” Bucky whispered into her shoulder, his arm squeezing her to him as if he wanted to meld himself to her.

“Copycat,” she joked, instantly feeling her orcs chest vibrate with a chuckle, “I love you too, Bucky.”

With her in his arms, hers wrapped around him as tight as she could, Bucky could then understand the meaning of safety, of love and family.

And she finally came to realize that she and Bucky weren’t all that different after all. They had both been abandoned by the ones who were supposed to have their backs before and more than anyone. But they have got each other now. She wasn’t going to let Bucky go and she trusted him not to let her go either.

As she leaned in to give Bucky his goodnight kiss that night, a different thought occupied her mind.

Sitting up against the pillows, she crossed her legs, her heart pounding with anticipation as Bucky looked at her with a quizzical tilt of his head.

She slowly got closer to his face, locking eyes with him to gain more courage, but it only made her more nervous.

She took a deep breath and when she pressed her lips, she pressed them to her orc’s mouth instead of his cheek, ever so tentatively getting a much needed taste of his full lips. They were so soft, so perfect.

She had no idea if she was doing this right, but she didn’t care.

Bucky's eyes widened in disbelief, wondering if he was dreaming.

She pulled away after a short second, scared that she might have crossed a line, “I’m sorry. Do orcs not do that—”

Before she could apologize or question her actions further, Bucky silenced her with a kiss of his own, swiftly bringing her down to lay on her back as he hovered over her, his kisses eager and desperate as he tried his best to watch his tusks.

“I don’t care what orcs do. We’re doing it,” he mumbled against her sweet lips.

Bucky allowed her one loud laugh before devouring her lips again, stealing her heart and breath with another tender, yet deep kiss.

In that very moment, time seemed to stand still for Bucky. All he could feel was the warmth of her cheek against his palm, all he could taste was the sweetness of her lips mingled with the faint flavor of berries, and he never wanted it to end.

As she allowed his tongue to gently explore her mouth, a promise of eternity passed between them in a moan, sealing their bond with a promise of a lifetime of love and devotion.

She has never had a real friendship. Rarely had anything to say. She would rather stay silent if she thought she didn’t have anything to contribute to the conversation. She was always afraid that others might find her boring, and was even more afraid that that may be her truth. So she always hid. She hid from others, from herself and her feelings. She hid from problems and fights. She hid from anything that could get her hurt.

But with Bucky it was different.

She didn’t have to hide anymore, didn’t have to be scared because in Bucky she had everything. She had a true friend, a loyal lover and a great husband.

And as she let herself drown in the feeling of his lips, she couldn’t be more grateful for the gods above for drawing her fate exactly how it was.

It felt so good to belong to Bucky and she could all but want more.

She let her instincts run wild, her body hot with need as she hesitantly slipped her hands under Bucky’s sweater, eager to feel his scarred skin under her fingers.

Bucky pulled away from her lips to look her in the eyes, his breath stuttering at her tender touch, “what are you doing, sweet thing?”

“I’m sorry. Was that too far?” She hurriedly tried to pull her hands out of his clothes, but Bucky was faster as he sat back and held his hands on top of hers, keeping them inside his sweater, right on his ribs.

“I’m your husband,” Bucky reminded with a sweet smile.

“I know— I just— I’ve never—” She struggled with her words as heat rose to her face, “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable… but I think I wanna do this.” She confessed shyly, her indexes caressing up and down his abdomen.

“This this?” Bucky tilted his head suggestively, already feeling his cock jump at the thought alone.

“This this.” She smiled, biting her lip shyly as she gave a nod.

“Little human, you better not be playing right now.” Bucky warned, his eyes growing the slightest bit darker.

“I’m not—”

“Because if I start, I won’t be able to stop myself, sweet thing.”

“Then don’t.”

Her newfound courage took over as she brought Bucky back to her with her hands tangled in his pullover.

Bucky kissed her with fervor, savoring the angelic sounds she was making as his tongue tasted hers.

He carefully ran a large hand up her hip, exploring as his lips trailed down her cheek and to her neck.

He could feel her pulse again and was about to stop, déjà vu from their wedding night attacking him, but then she said his name in the softest, sexiest and neediest tone as she squirmed underneath him, his covered cock fitting just right between her legs.

Bucky could all but put his lips back on her, his tusks grazing the sensitive skin as he nibbled on it.

“Can I see you?” He breathed, his eyes on hers as his fingers found way under the skirt of her dress.

She nodded, her face and neck flushed as she sat up and gave the orc her back.

Bucky wasted no time working the zipper down, revealing the back of her bralette to his hungry eyes.

She twisted herself back, seeking Bucky’s blue orbs for reassurance as she pushed her dress down her shoulders. Her heart pounded in her chest when she saw Bucky literally lick his lips at the sight of her.

It felt like it was the first time Bucky was seeing her naked to both of them.

He saw her hesitate with pushing the dress down further and so with a smile, Bucky pulled his own pullover up and off his head, “I got you.” He promised.

She bit her lower lip, pushing the dress down her thighs.

Bucky pulled the piece of clothing all the way down, throwing it behind his back with his discarded sweater. He kept his calloused palms on her shins, caressing the smooth skin while he watched her hands go behind her back to unhook her bralette.

She let it fall from her body, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths as she watched Bucky’s gaze switch from admiration to sheer desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, gently bringing her on her back, taking the bralette all the way down her arms as he pressed his mouth to hers again.

Bucky’s lips traced down the hot skin of her throat in open-mouthed kisses, moving to her collarbones, “can I touch you, sweet thing?”

“Yes.” She nodded and goosebumps instantly rose on her skin as Bucky’s palms cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing her hardening nipples.

“Bucky,” she moaned, her back involuntarily curving as she pushed herself further into her orc’s touch.

“Oh, you sensitive on here, little human?” Bucky asked, biting back his smirk as his calloused flesh thumb rubbed over her nipple again, “’s my touch making your little nipples hard?”

“Bucky,” she whined at the dirty talk, her hands coming up to cover her hot face in embarrassment.

“Hey.” Bucky gently took her hands away from her face, “don’t hide from me, sweet thing. I love that your body is reacting to me.”

Before she could whine again, her husband was bringing her right hand down and between his legs, pressing her open palm to his hard cock, “this is my body reacting to you, my love.”

She gasped, the feeling foreign to her as she felt how big and hard Bucky was.

“This is what you do to me, little human.” Bucky wrapped her smaller hand around his clothed cock, giving himself a squeeze, making wetness pool in her panties at the sound that left him afterwards.

Knowing that she wasn’t the only one whose body was on fire, made her the tiniest bit more confident and she found herself giving Bucky’s cock another squeeze, making his head drop to her shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, you tryna kill me, sweet thing?” Bucky breathed a chuckle on her neck.

“Did— did I hurt you?” She asked insecurely, wanting to remove her hand and bury herself under the bed.

“Gods, you’re an angel.” Bucky shook his head and she didn’t understand until he said, “you have no idea how much your touch drives me mad, do you?”

She shook her head innocently and Bucky only smiled, moving his mouth to her chest, his tusks softly grazing everywhere his lips went.

“It’s something like this.”

“Ohhhh, Bucky!” She arched her back again as her orc wrapped one of her nipples in his lips, softly suckling at the tender nub, making her hand give a tighter pump to his cock.

She really was sensitive there.

Bucky groaned, moving to her other nipple, the vibration driving her crazy, making her squirm harder as her hand massaged around his cock, sliding up his back to unconsciously wrap in his long hair as she pushed her breast into his mouth.

She could feel herself clenching like crazy down there, her whole body aflame with lust from all the new sensations Bucky was introducing her to.

The way the tip of his tongue flicked against her nipples made her crave more.

Bucky’s kisses trailed down her ribs to her abdomen, worshipping every inch until they settled on top of her pubic bone, dark blue eyes looking up at her for permission to go further.

She nodded, aching for her orc’s touch to provide any kind of relief.

A little nervous about not finding her wet once again, Bucky moved closer to her center.

Bucky let his lips kiss her on top of her underwear first, inhaling the saturated fabric as he pressed a long kiss to her clothed core. He swallowed hard, her scent filling his nostrils and making him dizzy with desire.

She smelled so good.

“Bucky, please,” she pleaded before she could stop herself, desperate for him to do anything to help the throbbing between her legs.

“I got you, sweet thing,” Bucky told her again, quickly pushing the tiny underwear down her legs and getting himself comfortable between her legs.

He took a second to look at her, all naked and all his, writhing from and for his touch and his touch alone.

“Wh— what are you gonna do?” She asked uncertainly, not really getting why Bucky was bringing himself lower between her open thighs, eye to eye with her pussy, the position making her cheeks burn up.

“I’m gonna get a taste, little human. Would you let me? Can I get a taste of you, sweet thing?” Bucky asked as he pressed loving kisses to the delicate flesh of her inner thigh.

“You’re… gonna put your mouth there?” She whispered her question shyly, the thought making her want to close her legs and hide.

Bucky just smiled lovingly at her innocence; his untouched, pure little human, “if you let me.”

“Is it gonna feel good?” She asked curiously.

Bucky nodded, relieved she wasn’t scared of his tusks coming close to where she was the most sensitive, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Y—yes. Okay.” She nodded, swallowing her nervousness as she laid her head back.

Bucky knew what he was doing and she trusted him to take care of her.

Her permission was all Bucky needed to put his mouth on her, pressing a longing kiss to her lower lips, glad to find her soaking wet, making her gasp above him. The feeling of his blunt tusks framing her pussy set her heart racing.

He then locked eyes with her as he let his tongue out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe up from her dripping hole to her pulsing clit before wrapping his full lips around it and she couldn’t help the tiny squeal that escaped her as her head fell back on the pillow, her hips pushing down against him

Bucky smirked on her heat before moaning himself. She tasted so good, better than anything he has ever put his mouth on.

He had fucked humans before and he knew exactly what to do, but she was different. Every breath she released, every moan, was making Bucky wild with desire. He has never cared about making someone feel good as he did in that moment with her thighs around his head.

Her delicate hands flew to her orc’s hair and she tugged hard, losing herself in the feeling of Bucky’s mouth on her pussy as she arched her back and pushed herself closer to his lips. Her orc’s touch was reducing her to a moaning, babbling mess in mere seconds.

Bucky decided to test the waters a little, slipping his tongue inside her hole a few times, tasting her sweetness from the source before bringing his flesh finger between her legs. He gently prodded the tip of his thick finger at her entrance, feeling her tense above him with a gasp.

“It’s okay, sweet thing, I got you. Just relax for me.” He reassured and she tried her best to relax her muscles, allowing Bucky to ease the tip of his finger insider of her.

Fuck, she was so tight; the tightest he has ever felt and it made him rut into the mattress when he thought about how tight she was going to feel around his cock.

Her mouth hung open as Bucky worked the thick digit into her pussy knuckle by knuckle, his lips sucking on her clit.

“I gotta open you up for my cock, little human.” Bucky couldn’t help but tease her, smirking when she whined, getting wetter on his finger.

Bucky started moving his finger in and out of her, his movements slow and deep as he tried to explore as much of her as his finger would go.

Her body was feverish with arousal and her mind was drunk on the feeling of being filled for the first time in her life as sighs and whimpers slipped from her lips without her permission.

It was just one finger pushing in and out of her cunt and she was feeling full already, clenching hard with her juices drenching her thighs and the sheets. She clenched harder around Bucky’s thick finger at the thought of how big his cock would feel and how full it would make her feel, the way he was suckling on her clit making a knot tighten in her lower stomach.

She has never felt anything like this before and was starting to panic at the sensation spreading from her pussy to the rest of her.

“Bucky, I— I feel weird,” she whined, yet ground harder on her orc’s thick finger.

“Are you in pain, little human?” Bucky asked worriedly, taking his touch and mouth away from her at once.

“No, no, no, why would you stop?” She whined louder, her glossy eyes opening and pleading him to give her her pleasure back.

“Oh.” Bucky smirked when he looked from her eyes to her pussy and saw her clamp around nothing, “oh, sweet thing, you were gonna cum?” He asked lowly, his index rubbing up and down her sopping hole without going in.

“I— I don’t know.” She writhed, her hips pushing down as she tried to take Bucky’s finger back inside her, “Bucky, please.” She begged despite not really knowing what she was begging for.

But Bucky knew. He knew and he was going to give it to her.

“I got you,” Bucky said as he pushed his finger back into her pussy with ease, “you think you can take another one, little human?”

“Yes.” She nodded, her answer breathy and desperate as she automatically opened her thighs wider.

“Gods, you’re perfect. So good for me, sweet thing.” Bucky took his index out before coupling it with his middle and pushing both fingers into her, stretching her once more.

She whimpered at the careful intrusion, her hand bringing Bucky’s face to her pulsing clit, making him smirk proudly at how needy she was being for him.

If she thought she felt full before, this made her realize she was wrong.

Bucky’s fingers were so thick, so skilled as they massaged and curled against her upper walls, making her squeal when they nudged a specific spot deep inside her.

“Oh, there you go,” Bucky groaned into her clit, knowing exactly what he was doing to her as he kept curling his fingers inside of her, harshly stimulating the spot that was making her thrash.

He could feel her walls contracting harder around his fingers and he wanted to watch as he brought her to her first orgasm ever.

Keeping his eyes on her blissed out face, Bucky replaced his mouth with the heel of his left hand, circling her clit tightly with his cooler palm.

She wailed at the new stimulation, the pressure from Bucky’s hand strong enough to rub both her clit and her lower abdomen.

Her loud whimpers were making Bucky’s cock leak in his pants as her fingers dug into his shoulders.

“I got you, sweet thing. Give it to me, my love. Shake on your orc’s fingers.”

Bucky’s words did it for her.

She felt the knot in her tummy tighten once more and before she could tell him about it this time, her toes were curling and her body was trembling as her pussy clenched and pulsated around the orc’s beefy digits.

Bucky watched with an open mouth, his lips shimmering with the remnants of her arousal as he almost finished in his pants like a teenager at the mere sight of her losing it on his fingers, “there you go, my love. Good job, sweet thing.”

He slowed down the curling of his fingers but kept his palm circling her clit, wanting to keep her convulsing for as long as he could before she gently tried pushing his touch off.

“Sensitive,” she panted and Bucky decided to have mercy on her.

She laid down on the bed, her tired body limp despite the ongoing throbbing of her pussy, trying to catch her breath.

A smile automatically formed on her lips as she felt Bucky climb up the bed again, mapping his way up her body in wet kisses.

“Hi,” she whispered, opening her eyes when she felt him kissing the corner of her lips.

“Hi.” Bucky smiled, more than satisfied with himself at the state he had managed to bring her to as he kissed her lips, making her taste herself on his tongue, “did you like that, sweet thing?”

She nodded coyly, “can I… make you feel like that too? With my mouth?” Her face was flushed, heat spreading on her skin as if she hadn’t just come on Bucky’s fingers.

The orc could barely hold his orgasm back at the innocence in her voice as she asked if she could suck his cock in the purest way possible. He wasn’t about to cum untouched during his first time with his human. Get it together dammit.

“Later, sweet thing. Right now, I need to be inside your pussy or I think I might die.”

“Bucky,” she whined shyly, covering her face with her hands.

He laughed at her bashfulness before removing the rest of his clothes, “look at me, little human.” Bucky urged gently, his touch soft as his thumb stroked her lower belly.

She removed her hands, eyes instantly landing on his huge cock as it stood proudly, leaking pearls of pre-cum down his length.

“Are you ready, little human?” Bucky asked, wanting to make sure she wanted this.

She remained wordless for a second, taking in Bucky’s cock with an open mouth, wondering if it was going to fit.

“You can say no, sweet thing. We don’t have to do it tonigh—”

“Yes,” she interrupted with a nod, “make me yours, Bucky.”

Bucky bit his lip, stifling a groan, trying to stop himself from sliding home and pounding her into the mattress.

“I thought you were already mine, little human.” He growled lowly, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down her soaking cunt, tapping her clit teasingly just to see her shiver.

“I am. But I wanna be yours like this too.” She mumbled, her eyes mesmerized as she watched Bucky lube his cock up in her wetness, “wanna be yours in every way possible.”

“Can’t say no to that,” Bucky growled before carefully popping the tip of his fat cock inside her aching pussy.

Her breaths were coming out in short pants, cunt already clenching around him and he almost doubled over, his knees weak as pleasure engulfed his senses, “fuck, sweet thing, you’re so tight. Pussy’s tryna kill me.” He moaned, unintentionally making her clench down harder.

She looked like she had already been fucked stupid when Bucky proceeded to push half of his fat cock inside her, letting out tiny mewls and whines as she felt every ridge and vein on her orc’s cock, holding onto his arms for dear life.

“Oh, you feel so good, my love. So wet for me,” Bucky sighed as he kept fucking her with half of his cock, wanting her to get used to the stretch before he could give her all of him, “so tight”.

“Please, Bucky,” she moaned, her heart and pussy simultaneously fluttering at Bucky calling her his love yet again, “I can take it.” She promised, opening her thighs as far as they would go for him.

Bucky could all but snarl hungrily as he leaned forward, burying his face in her soft neck before gradually pushing the rest of his cock inside her tight throbbing cunt inch by inch until he had bottomed out.

He took a second to calm himself down, not wanting to burst so fast. Then he was pulling out just enough for his bulbous tip alone to remain inside of her before sliding back into her cunt, gasping into her neck at the sensation of being totally wrapped up in her snug warmth.

She couldn’t help but cry out at the pleasure as he orc fucked her deeply, reaching places inside of her she never knew existed.

She thought it would take longer for her body to get used to Bucky’s girth, but it was like she was made for him, her pussy effortlessly accepting him every time he pressed back home.

The tip of Bucky’s cock easily found her special spot, ramming into it over and over every time he drove himself back into her heat.

“Oh, Bucky!” She squealed, her back already bowing once more as her vision got blurrier and Bucky knew he wasn’t going to last much longer when her nails dug into his skin again.

His breath was labored when he raised his head, wanting a taste of her lips as his thrusts became faster, more desperate. He swallowed her loud moans, leaving the only sound in the empty cottage to be the sound of skin slapping against skin as he fucked her faster.

“Bucky, it’s gonna happen again,” she whined and Bucky brought his hand down to her clit at once, wanting to see and feel her crumble on his cock.

“Yeah? You gonna cum on my fat cock, little human?”

She nodded frantically, her legs wrapping around Bucky’s waist.

“Cum for me, sweet thing. Let me feel your tight little pussy cum on my cock.”

Bucky’s dirty whispers in her ear, his deep thrusts and his frantic rubbing on her sensitive clit were making her lose control; making her lightheaded with desire as she let herself go again, full body tensing before shaking in her orc’s arms.

Bucky could no longer hold back, his guttural growl making her clench hard. He gave a few more thrusts before pushing his cock as deep as it would go inside her quivering pussy, keeping his assault on her clit going to keep her clenching around him. He felt his cock twitch as he emptied his balls inside her. His cock wouldn’t stop throbbing as he filled his little human up with his hot cum.

Before any of them could comprehend it, she was cumming again just at the feeling of Bucky cumming inside of her, making him groan as her walls squeezed his cock, milking him for all that he was worth.

He let himself collapse on top of her for just a minute before feeling the need to pull out because she wouldn’t stop pulsating and shuddering around his sensitive cock.

Bucky didn’t think he had ever cum so hard in his entire life.

A smile spread on his lips as he flipped on his side, watching her chest rise and fall with her slowing breaths.

He trailed a finger up her still slightly trembling thigh, making her open her tired eyes to look at him.

She gave him a sweet smile, biting her lip as she squirmed, timidly closing her thighs and Bucky could see the exact moment she realized that his cum was leaking out of her abused hole, smirking at how bashful she got straightaway.

“Are you okay, little human?” Bucky asked, his finger tracing up her abdomen, around the curve of her breast and up under her chin, keeping her gaze on his.

She nodded, her expression cock-drunk despite the shyness, “when— when can we do that again?”

Her question pulled an astonished laugh out of Bucky as he wrapped a hair strand around his finger, “any time you want, my love.” He brought her forehead to his lips, kissing her adoringly.

Gods, he was so in love that his heart felt like it would burst.

She smiled bigger, satisfied with the answer as she moved closer, settling on her orc’s broad chest and snuggling close to his warmth, “I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, sweet thing.” Bucky gave her lips a deep kiss.

“So orcs do do that.” She mumbled with a sleepy smile against his lips, making him laugh into her mouth.

She giggled a little before pushing her nose further into Bucky’s neck, gracefully falling asleep to his scent.

As she laid in his arms, vulnerable and exposed, Bucky felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him as he pulled the heavy blanket up her naked form, holding her closer to him.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her hairline, vowing to always be there for her. She was his, and he was hers, destined together through a love that defied all odds.

And as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, Bucky knew that he had found his home, his safe haven, in the embrace of this one girl who had so easily stolen his heart.

Part VI

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sarahowritesostucky · 6 months

Text

Happy Little Family

📖"A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like her Mommy"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4407

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: Bucky shows up unannounced at your cottage, shattering the peaceful life you thought you'd reclaimed for yourself and your daughter. He's reclaiming what's his, and he isn't planning on accepting a "no."

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" shlyukha = "slut" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one"

1. A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat, Just like her Mommy

"And then the knight took the princess away to his castle, and they lived happily ever after."

You're just outside the nursery when you hear his voice, and ice cold fear instantly floods your chest. You drop the laundry basket and run into the room, and there he is: seated in the chair you nurse from, reading one of the antique fairytale books that your mom gave at the shower, holding your baby.

"James," you breathe, horrified. He's been smiling down at June, but now his face smooths out as he looks up at you. He isn't frowning or glaring, but you know him, and there's a storm behind those eyes that makes dread curl heavy in your stomach. "Hi Doll," he says quietly. "It's good to see you again."

Your heart pounds in your chest. You feel sick. One wrong move and who knows what he'll do. You take a cautious step forward, eyes searching James' body and anywhere nearby for a gun. You don't see one. You take another step. "James," you warn,

June makes a happy gurgle at seeing you, and James coos down at her, "Aw, yeah Sweetie. I'm happy to see Mommy too."

Mommy. Hearing that word come out of his mouth, in a setting like this, is a nightmare you've woken from more than once. You lick your lips and hold out your arms, pleading, "Please give her to me."

He acts like he hasn't even heard you, smiling and tapping June's body with one finger. "We were just reading a story. Little lady is gonna be a big reader one day, I bet. Gonna grow up to be real smart." His gaze slides back to you, with what you interpret as a world-of-hurt-coming-your-way look glimmering in his eyes. "A clever, tricky little kitty cat. Just like her Mommy."

A whimper escapes you, unbidden.

June starts squirming in his lap, eager to get to you. When he doesn’t hand her over, she starts to fuss. He coos at her and bounces her in his arms to calm her, kisses the top of her head while keeping his somber, reproachful eyes on you. “You left your door unlocked,” he says. “She was alone.”

She’d been down for her nap when you went downstairs and popped across the street to visit with Hilde, your one friend in the world. It’s so common for mothers to do, in this tiny, Nordic village you’ve settled in. It’s the culture here. It’s supposed to be safe. You swallow thickly, eyes flitting around to try and think of what to do. You think of your gun, so far away. You’d talked yourself out of keeping it tucked behind your bed, so now the only weapon you own is down in the kitchen. But maybe … maybe if you can get him away from June …

“You should be more careful, Little thief. You never know who might break in and take everything you love.”

“The only thing we had to guard against here was you,” you hiss. “And I’m not fool enough to think a locked door would keep you out.”

“You’re damned right it wouldn’t.” He tosses the storybook aside like trash and stands up with June in his arms. “But you are a fool if you thought there was anywhere in the world you could go where I wouldn’t find you.”

You flinch forward compulsively, unable to think of your own safety over your baby’s. “Please, James,” you beg. “Please. Just give her to me.”

“Oh no, Dollface,” he purrs, voice deceptively soft. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, and you aren’t gonna want her in the room when it happens.” His hands tighten threateningly on June’s little body. “Whose baby is this?”

You blanch. “Don’t hurt her.”

“Aw. You don’t want me to hurt her?”

“No, please!” The sob that’s been working its way up in your throat finally breaks. It’s killing you not to rush forward and snatch her from his arms. “Please, I'll do anything.”

“Is that so?” He stares at you long and hard. The few seconds of silence are torturous as he holds your daughter away from you.

James is one of the deadliest people you’ve ever met, and he’s capable of horrendous violence, but he wouldn’t hurt a baby, that much you do know. What you have to worry about most right now isn’t him physically hurting her; it’s him wanting her, whisking her away right alongside you, when he inevitably takes you from this place. There’s nothing you can do to prevent your own fate, but if there’s anything you can do to keep him from getting his hands on June, you’ll do it. Your eyes flit around the nursery frantically, its pale, dream-like decorations taunting you as you try to think of what to do. It feels surreal to have a man like James standing in this room, feels wrong.

Your heart leaps when he suddenly moves, but he’s only turning to walk over to the crib, bending and placing June in it with a surprising amount of care. Something painful lances in your chest at seeing him handle her so gently, but when he turns back around to you, all of that gentleness is gone. “Come on,” he snaps. “To the other bedroom.”

You hesitate, not wanting to leave your daughter alone, but he stalks forward and grabs your upper arm, herding you out of the nursery and down the hallway. In your bedroom, he pushes you onto the bed. You land in a heap and scramble to prop back up on your hands, trying to swipe the hair out of your face.

“Whose baby is that?” he demands. “Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

His Voice. God. After almost a year and a half it should be lessened. The pull you feel when you hear it has no right to tug at you the way it does. You’re not even mated, which makes it all the more insulting. It gets in through your ears and spreads throughout your body, like an invasive plant, growing and sinking its roots into you and tug, tug tugging on your will: Whose baby is that.

You fight the awful urge to tell him, as you rapidly, fearfully weigh your options. It’s hard to think when you’re so frightened, so taken aback. Most people might think it wise to admit the truth, but you know this man, this alpha, and you know he’ll never let her go if he knows that she’s his. Anything, you think. You have to do anything you can to keep her from that life, that world.

Heart in your throat, you insist, “Noone.”

“Noone?” His visage darkens. “Artificial insemination, then? I know they’re progressive and all up here, but don’t take me for a fool, mamochka.”

“It was just some guy! Just a one night stand, I swear!”

He surges in, gets one knee up on the bed and pushes you onto your back when you try to get up, leaning over you and holding you down by your shoulders. “So you did let another man fuck you,” he growls.

You jut your chin out and hiss, “Yes.” (Lying Rule #1: deliver your bullshit with confidence).

“Who? Was he alpha?”

“Why do you care? It was one night in Oslo.” (Rule #2: add in one or two unimportant details.)

“What’s. his. name?”

A bitter sound escapes you (Rule #3: attach honest emotion to it, if you can). “I don’t know his name. I never did. I was just racking up a roster, just wanted to get laid after getting away from you.”

He bares his teeth at you in a snarl, furious, and shoves you harder against the mattress. You cry out and try to hit him, but he catches your wrists and holds them down to the bed easily, shoving you again, one of his powerful thighs pressed up between yours. “You’re mine,” he growls, getting in your face, lying on top of you. “Noone else’s. Not ever.”

You whimper and nod, shaken and keenly aware of his body on top of yours, his strength. James is a massive hulk of an alpha, capable of overpowering you in any situation, and even through your frantic thoughts, you know you’ll never be able to get away from him in close contact like this. He’s so angry, his scent gone thick and choking. You’re too panicked to plan out what it is you’re going to say next, you just wind up instinctively trying to placate him, blurting out, “What do you want?”

He leers down at you. “I want what’s mine. What’s always been mine.” On your wrists, his fingers tighten cruelly. “You’ve had your fun now, and gotten away with it for too damn long. You’re coming home with me, Little thief.”

You gasp as the pressure on your wrists increases painfully, mind flying to that cold, Siberian fortress and the life that awaits you there. You might be able to get away from him before then, but you might not, and you can’t risk June being trapped there as well. “Okay, okay! I’ll go with you, I will. Wherever you want. Just … Please let me give her to the neighbor. Please.”

He smiles nastily down at you. “Oh, you don’t want her to come along? Another man’s pup?”

Tears press at the backs of your eyes at the thought of leaving your daughter behind, but you shake your head. “Please. Just take her over to the woman across the street. She’ll look after her. Please James, she's my daughter. I won’t fight you if you leave her there. She’s nothing to you. Just let her stay where it’s safe.”

Something in his expression shifts, but you don’t have time to figure out what the emotion might be, before he shutters again. He leans down and purrs, “Oh, I don’t know, vorishka [little thief]. You stole some very valuable things from me. And since I don’t see any fucking Picassos hanging in this hovel you call a house, I assume they’re in the wind.”

It wasn’t as though you’d simply been able to run away. Escaping had required finances, techniques, firms of dangerous men hired to plant false leads, erase tracks, ferret you away into oblivion, and then move halfway across the globe and buy yourself a new identity. The bribes alone had eaten up most of the money. You shudder in his grip, knowing that the paintings wouldn’t save you, even if you did have them. “They’re gone.”

“I know they’re gone, Little thief.” He shoves his thigh down against you. “So how are you gonna make it up to me?”

You whimper. “I can’t,” you plead. “James. I don’t have anything.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I can think of a few ways you can start repaying your debt.” He runs one hand down your side, groping your waist as he breathes softly against your ear: “For instance, do you have any idea what she’d be worth on the black market?”

It takes you a split second to figure out what he means, and your heart seizes in terror as soon as you do. You know James is involved in every type of shady, illegal dealing there is in the world, but you’d never even considered the idea of human trafficking. Now that he’s said it, you panic that you’ve made a huge mistake by lying that the baby isn’t his. “James,” you whisper, horrified. “Alpha, please.”

“Oh, it’s Alpha, now, is it?” He chuckles meanly, the sound making your stomach churn. You’re about to say something else, beg in some other, pitiful way, tell him he’s June’s father, but instead you cry out as his hand fists in your hair and yanks your head to the side. His breath hits hot against your skin and he drags his nose up the side of your neck, scenting you. “Mmm,” he hums darkly, pleased. “You spread your legs for another man, but you didn’t let anyone in here.”

You squeak when his teeth scrape over your still-unmarked glands. “No!” you gasp, just as much an answer as it is a plea for nim not to bite you. “I didn’t, I didn’—”

“Shut up,” he snaps, closing his teeth down on the spot. You whine as he pulls your hair and slowly increases the pressure of his bite, threatening to break the skin. Horrified, you feel your body responding with arousal, heat blooming deep in your core. You squeeze your eyes shut, and sure enough few seconds later James is inhaling deeply and chuckling. “Oh, kotenok [kitten]. Still the same as ever, huh?” He shifts, hand slipping down between your legs and cupping you from over the fabric of your dress. “Ripe for your Alpha’s touch, even after all this time. How sweet.” Humiliated rage bubbles up inside of you and you glare up at him. He’s looking down fondly at you, eyes heated and lip drawn into his mouth. He lets it slide back out between his teeth and murmurs, “It’s okay, you know. It’s everything to me, omegechka [little omega], the way you respond. It’s only natural.” You growl angrily, but he just hums and tugs your hair again, other hand molding to your mound and rubbing. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, when you cry out louder. “Don’t want to scare the whelp, do you?”

You freeze, listening to try and hear June. She’s whining from over in her room, not understanding why she’s been left alone when she can hear her mommy’s voice just down the hall. “Please,” you whisper, locking eyes with James again. “Please. Let me go to her.”

He grinds the heel of his hand against you. “I told you, Dollface. You don’t want her here for this.”

He kisses you on the mouth, chaste and lingering; so gentle that for a split second it makes you ache for what you once had with him. James always was very good at making love to you, at lavishing you with a softness and a tenderness even in the darkest of times. But now you can only shiver underneath his weight, because you know that’s not what’s about to happen.

“Seventeen months, moya omegya,” he rumbles quietly, lips brushing yours with the words. “My bed suddenly cold, not knowing if you were alive or dead. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

His tone of voice is so intimately familiar that it makes your heart clench, bringing back memories of a life you’ve fought so hard to put behind you. “Please,” you whisper. “Don’t do this.”

He tuts and shakes his head softly, as if he’s actually remorseful. “How this goes depends entirely on you. I want you to know that.” He hasn’t stopped working his hand against you, rubbing his palm against your clit and smiling at how you shudder beneath him and your body betrays you. You watch his nostrils flare as he smells the reaction he’s pulling from you against your will. “Sweet girl,” he coos. “You just can’t help it, can you?” You toss your head and screw your eyes shut, but he’s having none of it. He yanks your hair and hisses at you to open your eyes. “No,” he warns, once he’s got your attention. He moves back, getting up onto his knees and shrugging off his jacket. “You’re going to watch. The whole time.” His hands land on his belt, the buckle clinking as he opens it and undoes his pants. “I want to look right in your eyes while I take back what’s mine.” He shoves his pants down along with his underwear. His cock springs free, already hard and wet at the tip. A part of him that’s been inside you hundreds of times, probably. Something you’ve craved and debased yourself for.

Seeing it reignites your shame, but it’s the way you feel your cunt pulse and release a fresh wave of slick, that really makes you start resisting again. “Nnh!”

“Ah ah ah, Dollface. That’s not gonna work.”

“Nugh! Lemmo go!”

You fight, of course you do, but it’s almost worse that way, as it only points out how comically mismatched you are to him. He laughs at you and holds down your thrashing body, barely even grunting from the effort of subduing you. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, chuckling breathily as he forces you down with one hand and strokes himself with the other. “I have to tell you, kotenok. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“I hate you!” You manage to get a hand free and you flail, hitting and clawing at him. He inhales sharply as your nails scratch his face. He knocks your hand away with a surprised hiss and, wide eyed, touches the spot where a tiny line of red is welling up on his cheek. The next thing you know, he’s backhanding you, sending spots into your vision and knocking you out of your senses for a few seconds. Your ears ring and you blink, stunned.

His hand appears at your throat, squeezing, pressing up against the arteries. You briefly grapple with him, grabbing his forearm and fighting, but then his thumb notches into place and digs into your glands. Your cries taper off and you go limp with a pathetic, mewling whimper. “Nnnh …”

He leers down at you, adjusting his grip, still jerking his cock as he subdues you with the Hold. “Weak,” he says. “But that’s just how I like you.”

His thumb rubs in circles, sending a rush of liquid gold through your veins. It worsens the situation between your legs, and you can’t hide that any more than you can hide the humiliated tears that prick to your eyes as he shoves your dress up and rips your underwear straight off of you. He coos when he looks down and sees how wet you are. “Oh, omegechka.” He knees your legs further apart and drags his cockhead through your folds. “And this is you hating me?”

You shake with a silent sob, despising him with your whole being, hating yourself for reacting this way. Before James, you’d never met a man who coveted your omega nature so much, hadn’t known what it was to need an alpha that way, to have your body need him. And to think: you used to like it.

He lines himself up and sinks inside of you in one, unyielding push, forcing you to open to him, carving out his space inside of you. You cry out at the force of it, body clamping down hard and the delicate skin at your entrance stinging from the stretch, but he doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated. “Fuck,” he groans, grinding in deep, his pubic bone pressing against your clit, laughing darkly when it makes you squeal. “Oh, you sensitive?” He does it again, and again, doesn’t stop until he gets a high pitched, warbling moan from you. “Theere she is.” He digs his thumb in harder against your glands and stares right in your eyes as he watches the effect it has on you, soaking up the flush in your face and the furious tears welling at the corners of your eyes. “I know, Sweetheart, I know,” he murmurs. “You really can’t help it, can you?” You whimper and he nods along in mock sympathy. “Poor little thing. I can’t imagine what it must be like, to need it that bad.”

“James,”

He pulls out halfway and shoves back in, hard, rumbling in pleasure when it elicits another yelp from you. His other hand grabs at your waist, fingers digging into the soft give of your body. He hums dirtily. “I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised. You look good for having just pushed out that pup. You look healthy.” You whine in protest and he fucks in hard again, baring his teeth in a mean smile. “Yeah, momma, you heard me.” He pulls out, thrusts back in.

“Ss-stop.”

He laughs. “Don’t be like that, krasotka [Pretty(n.)]. I like it. You always were too skinny for my taste.” He runs his hand from your waist up to the top of your dress, yanking it down along with the cup of your bra, and groaning when your swollen breast spills out. You squeal in rage as he curses quietly, eyes going molten and unfocused. “Fuck, Honey, look at you.”

You start thrashing again hard, trying to hit him, but you only get a glancing blow to the side of his head before he refixes his hand on your throat and clamps down in another Hold. He gives you a firm shake. “Settle down. I told you: I like it..”

“Nnn, fuck you!” You spit on him, but he only laughs and wipes it away, leering down at you and continuing gleefully,

“Shouldn’t be skinny like some damn underwear model. Mm mn, naw. Now you’re nice and soft, just like you should be. Somethin’ for Alpha to grab onto. Bitty waist and a fat ass.” He grabs your waist again and pulls you down into the next roll of his hips, changing the angle and hitting that spot inside of you that makes stars burst in your vision.

“Ah!”

“Mmhm. Right there baby? Yeah, thaat’s the spot. I remember.” He’s panting open-mouthed, breathless as he taunts you, “I remember everything. What you like. How you feel. The sounds you make. Fuck.” He shoves into you hard and holds there, his licked-red lips curling up wickedly. “Your cunt’s fluttering around me, Sweetheart. Clamping down so fucking hard.”

“Nnh!”

He laughs, but his smile slackens as his own pleasure continues to build. He angles back and looks down your body, stares at where his cock is disappearing inside of you with lewd, wet sounds. “Shit, momma. And this pussy snapped back real good, didn’t it?”

You cry out angrily, but it’s what he wants: to see you aroused and humiliated and furious at him. He sets a punishing pace, his hips slamming against you hard on the end of each, brutal thrust; his open belt and the zip of his fly digging into your ass every time he grinds inside. “You haven't been fucking anybody,” he says smugly. “How long’s it really been, mamochka? Hm? How long since another man was in this cunt?”

You moan miserably, his cock driving hard against your walls, too rough but not painful enough to keep it from feeling good. James is big, has an alpha’s cock, and it’s never been a physical possibility for him to be inside of you and not rub against every spot that makes your body light up in pleasure. You shake your head and try to close your eyes, but he pushes his hand up harder underneath your jaw, shaking you. “Uh uh. Look at me.”

You can’t fight off the command of his Voice, not when he’s already dominating you so completely. Your eyes open against your will, full of tears, and he rumbles in satisfaction.

“Better.”

Every whimper and mewl you make drives him on, stoking the angry satisfaction that’s burning in his eyes—eyes that you can’t look away from as you cry out again and again, little “Ah, ah, ah's” that interrupt the cadence of your skin slapping together, all of his eager growls and satisfied grunts.

“That’s it, shlyukha,” he pants, hips snapping in hard, again and again. “You—ugh—you let Alpha know how good that feels. Don’t hold it back from me.” His breathing is getting heavier the closer he gets, his composure and even his anger losing some of their hold as he fucks you harder, sinks down on you farther, covers you with his body fully as he ruts into you in pursuit of his climax. “Shit,” he hisses not far from your ear, face stuffed in your neck.

You keen high in your throat at his proximity to your bonding glands—a plaintive sound that directly contradicts the panicked ‘no!’ that flashes in your brain. His hand leaves the front of your neck and scoops around behind instead, gripping you at the nape in a Scruff that feels just as toe-curlingly right as the Hold had.

For a very split second, his breath hitches and his growling trips into a needy whimper. “O-oh …” And that’s when you feel it: his knot starting to catch on the end of each thrust.

“Ah!” You cry out sharply and grab onto him, helpless to keep your body from seeking out more, from clinging to him and clamping down hard as his knot grows and triggers you into orgasm. “Hhgnn …”

He goes feral when he feels your body locking down on him, growling and shoving in and grinding to ensure that he catches inside and ties you together. His hand abandons your neck entirely as he gives in to the instinct to rut, both arms wrapping around your waist, scooping under your back and holding you still for him to fuck furiously against. The tug of his knot inside your cunt makes you sob and come harder, losing sense of yourself as the pleasure cuts through you like a knife.

“Fuck, fuck, ohhfuck …” The sound of his deep voice, so lost in the desperation and helplessness of his own pleasure, makes your belly flare hot with new arousal even as you’re coming down the other side of it. You gasp and pant, and eventually whimper as the bliss dissipates and you become more aware of him on top of you, grunting and groaning and fucking into your tie as he rides out the long, debilitating climax of an alpha.

You keep your eyes closed and cry, hating that it still feels good as he fucks into you, grinds down on your clit and gives your another orgasm, and another. You wait for him to finish as your brain fills with the high that comes after, that unavoidable pink cloud that you know is going to seal your fate and make you helpless to him for the next thirty minutes, at least. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head in the direction of the pillows.

As the high starts to take you, you think about how, if you’d just kept your gun holstered behind by the headboard like you’d planned, you could be blowing his brains out right about now.

A.N.: Soooo ... This is the rape-iest thing I've ever ever written. I hope y'all are okay. Just wanted to drop a note to let you know that this fic WILL lighten up and not be quite so, well, rapey, in the future. Thanks for reading! 💖Sarah

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1800jjbarnes · 9 months

Text

♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟔: 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲/𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 - 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 ♡

Black Card

【Synopsis】 : You were hiding a big secret from your two loving boyfriends. What happens when they finally find out?

『W.C』 : 1.50k

-> Genre: Suggestive. Dark Romance.

Paring: MobBoss!Stucky x F.Reader

[Warnings] : Heavy power shifting. Neck kisses. Dirty talk. Pet names. Swearing. Semi-nudity. Pole dancing. Strip clubs. Sir kink. Some mxm. Alcohol. Hickeies. Little bit of marking. Mention of gain weight (which is perfectly normal). Mention of a past injury.

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You sat in the back of a black SUV, shaking your leg up and down. Saying you were nervous was an understatement. You’d never been in one of Steve’s clubs, let alone one of the strip clubs. But Bucky and Steve had called for you since their meetings were lasting a lot longer than they thought, so they “Needed you desperately” as they put it. You felt tingles in your gut at the thought your lovers was so in love with you that when either of them got sexually frustrated they would never cheat and take it out with someone else, but instead, beckon for you sweetly and desperately.

“Right, this way sweet-thing.” One of the very large bouncers you’ve met in the past, Ari, spoke. He’s sweet, but you’ve heard he has a sadistic side. Must be why your lovers like him, and trust him so much. The minute you entered the dimly lit club, music filled your ears, and the smell of overly sweet perfume and alcohol entered your poor nose. You still wonder how any of the boys could possibly spend hours in these clubs when they always smelt like a frat boys' party.

Following Ari, he slowly leads you towards one of the back rooms. You noticed all the erotic dancers, both male and female, dancing elegantly on stage. A memory of your past popped up in your mind, and you had to give out a light chuckle. The person you were back in the past seemed to fit Bucky and Steve’s world to a tea a lot more than you now… And yet you only met them and they only fell for you, as the person you are present. A sweet, soft-spoken, cottage vibe with sparkles in your eyes. A fairy, as Steve liked to call you. Or Sugar, Doll. The list of cute pet names could go on for those two.

“They’re in here.” His rugged tone snapped you out of your thoughts as you suddenly took in your surroundings. This wasn’t the back rooms where their offices are? These look more like….

“Private dance room?” Your soft voice could melt anyone’s heart, and Ari was no exception.

“Uh, yes, they requested for no one to disturb until they gave the word.” Now you were officially confused and even more nervous than you were before, so when you were in the car. You quietly nodded to Ari before entering the even dimmer room than the one you were in. You could barely see other than the lit-up stage that was at the end of the room. Your heart was racing, feeling like it was about to burst out of your chest. Your breath picks up, and your eyes blow out to adjust to the darkness. And then suddenly, a large pair of arms wrap around your waist, making you literally jump and yelp.

“Easy there doll face. It’s just me.” Bucky’s lips latched on your neck, sucking in a harsh mark, making you gasp. His dark chuckle vibrated against your flesh, causing your body to shudder against him.

“J-James…” You called for him but had no clue why. It was like your brain was shutting down, and only he was playing on repeat. You felt his hands dance along your body, trying to find any and all exposed skin. His kisses got hotter as he bit down on your shoulder. But before you could beg for more, you were left empty, feeling Bucky’s hands and lips detached from your being. You shook your head a bit, feeling yourself crashing back to reality.

“Hello, Sugar.” Steve’s voice was dark, sounding like pure sex appeal. You finally get to see your surroundings now that Stevie has turned the lamp on next to his seat. They were both without suit jackets, Bucky’s tie was pulled, and a few of Steve’s buttons were undone. You gulped, feeling your nerves turn into desire. You didn’t know what to do, standing in the middle of the room like an idiot but Steve seemed to notice your shyness, making a gesture with his fingers to ‘come here’ which you obeyed. Walking over to him, he stands up, placing his point under your chin, dragging your face to his gently, letting his lips press against yours softly. The dominance dripped off these men, which would make anyone bend at their will. Including you. They were pure power.

“We have found out you’ve been keeping a secret from us, hmm?” His pupils were blown out, his voice barely above a whisper. You were trembling under his gaze. Trying to figure out what you could have possibly kept from your two mob boss lovers. Bucky’s hands find Steve’s waist pull him close with a slight kiss of his neck.

“Come one, tell her punk. Our Doll is too dumb to figure it out on her own,” James gave Steve one last long kiss before stepping back to the side, taking one of the seats so he could watch his lovers intensely. You tried your hardest to think of an answer, but your mind kept coming up blank. The only thing you could have possibly not told them was….

“Sir, please…” you begged, immediately knowing what he found. What else could it be? It's not like you hid anything else from them. But in truth, it wasn’t something that was brought up. You weren’t ashamed of it, but you did hate the insecurity that came from it. You had grown some extra padding and a knee injury since your days in the spotlight. You were more than rusty in your mind.

“how long were you a stripper?” Steve just bluntly outed it. Making it seem more real than before. You gulped, feeling so little under his gaze.

“For eight years…”

“Eight years!? wow.” Bucky gasped in amusement, but Steve stayed silent, making you feel his power pool around you. He had the most control, the dominance to scare anyone. Why do you think he is a leader in one of the biggest gangs in Brooklyn. The king of New York, as people call him.

“You little minx hiding this dirty little secret. You think we’d never find out? Never confront you for such a naught past?” The words Steve made your head spin. He knew how to talk, and dirty talk was his specialty. “Well come on, baby, let's see it.”

They now both sat on the two seats in front of you. you took a deep breath, gulping at the thought of dancing for your lovers. You haven't done it for years, and now here you are, trying to find a way out of it. But you knew they wouldn't let you leave until they at least saw something. So you gave in, choosing to play your cards right. Might as well have fun with it, no? You put your bag down, smiling slightly. Your change in demeanour made James and Steve raise their brows at you. Placing one hand on each of their thighs, you looked at them with a sinister and cheeky smile. “It’s gonna cost ya.”

Bucky was the one who chuckled, slipping his hand into Steve’s suit jacket that laid on the armrest, pulling out a black card. Steve gripped your chin, making your mouth fall open before James puts the said card between your teeth. “The pin is 3425, now take. It. Off.”

Your dominant tone faltered quicker than you expected, having no match to the two men in front of you. Shaking a nod, not letting the card fall from your lips, you began to slip out of your clothing at a speed that made both men grin. Your eagerness was something they lived for. They thought they could say anything and you’d do it. You were always ready to please them. But in truth, they were the ones that changed the most. You made them feel human again. And when the song started to pool out of the speakers around you and you took your last deep breath in order to calm yourself down, you knew they were hypnotized. You are their baby, their sugar. The sweet pink flower that brightens their day. Yet you had such a sexy dark secret that it made them melt the power they always managed to hold away.

You were the boss, you were the one who made the plans. They worshipped the ground you walked on and then some. And you had no clue how much power you actually had. The way your body moved against the pole, the music fitting your sensual dance. Your hair falling out of the ponytail you wore and the minimal clothing made both mob bosses' breaths get caught in their throats. They both had to keep adjusting their hardened cocks every now and then as they watched you with hawk-like stares.

You were in control. And you loved it.

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 11 months

Note

Can I get a whiskey with Steve Rogers as a married couple please one where it’s not quite marvel universe?

New Perspective.

set in a universe where steve doesn't leave, but instead stays to live out the rest of his life in happiness. this is just tooth rotting fluff. <3

warnings - the tiiiiiniest bit of angst at the start. mainly just sweethearts in love.

word count on this is 1k <3

3k masterlist here.

masterlist. inbox.

It's panic, first.

Then horror.

Sadness comes next.

And then... complete and utter relief.

You'd begged him not to go. Pleaded and bargained, promised him anything and everything. But he insisted.

You knew the risks. You also knew you'd never forgive yourself if you let him go while you were arguing.

So, you accepted it. He was leaving to go on a mission through space and time, and you were fine with it. Completely and totally fine with it.

You kissed him goodbye on the platform, whispering gentle love against his lips.

"You come back to me in one piece, Steve Rogers. You understand?"

He nodded gently, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Yes, ma'am. Understood."

He'd told you he loved you at least forty times before he went. It didn't do anything to quell the unease in your heart.

And then, it was time. And he was gone. And you held your breath. And the minutes went by. And he hadn't returned.

"Where is he, Bruce?" you questioned softly, trying not to let on how scared you were.

"Yeah, where is he, Bruce?" Sam had said, firmer, laced with more fear.

"I, I - I don't... I'm trying, okay?"

"Trying?" Bucky asked in disbelief, scoffing. "Trying?"

All four of you began to panic. Chests heaving, bones vibrating, lips chewed between teeth.

Finally, there was a noise. A clattering whoosh, a signal of return. You watched the platform, waiting for him to appear.

And he didn't.

"Where is he, Bruce? Where the fuck is he?"

It was the most upset you'd ever seen Sam. You didn't like it. You'd scanned the horizon, and saw broad shoulders and blond hair in the distance.

"I think he's back."

You were whispering, afraid to ruin the tension of the science. You slowly walk over to the bench, and there he is. In all his golden glory.

"Steve?"

"Baby?"

He looked a little dazed, a little confused. Suppose that happens, when you travel between dimensions.

"You okay?"

"I did it. Everything's back where it should be."

"Proud of you," you smiled, sitting down next to him and linking your hands together. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Saw some old faces. They just made me want to get home to you."

You had grinned at him, then, all bright and blinding. You surged forward and captured his lips with yours, throwing your arms around his neck.

"Never leave me again," you'd laughed. "My heart can't handle it."

"Never again," he'd promised into your mouth. "Never again."

That was years ago.

You'd both vowed to live a simple life, from that moment on.

You got married a couple of months later, in a quaint little courthouse in downtown New York. Sam and Bucky were your witnesses, both of them standing with tears in their eyes as you and Steve promised to love each other forever. The four of you grabbed dinner afterwards, at a small family run place that Sam recommended. It was perfect.

You bought a house on the outskirts of New York, out of the city. You wanted greenery and nature, and Steve vowed he'd give you anything you ever asked for.

It's a three bedroom cottage, plenty big enough for the both of you. There's a white picket fence and a rustic stone wall, pathway paved with lawn on either side. The front door is forest green, painted by your husband at your request. You'd suggested Captain America Blue first, but he'd protested. You'd laughed and compromised, picking out paint colours hand in hand at the hardware store.

You've planted fruit trees in the garden, watering them carefully every evening. Apples, pears, cherries, plums for Bucky. You're hoping it'll be warm enough to plant an orange tree or two next year. Steve helps, more than happy to muddy his jeans and get his hands dirty, on his knees in the soil with you. He's hung fairy lights and lanterns among the trees, illuminating the backyard. It's the perfect atmosphere for a dinner party, your friends and family laughing and chatting around a carefully prepared table, food and wine scattered across the cloth. You live for nights like those. Both of you do.

One of your favourite places is your sun room. Big glass panes, sunlight beaming in at all hours of the day. It's prettiest at sunrise and sunset, pinks and oranges cast across the space. You and Steve curl up on one of the love seats, limbs and heartstrings tangled together. You watch the sun come up, excited at the possibilities the day holds. Then, you watch it set, content and warmed by the fullness of your love. You drink coffee there in the morning, and tea there at night. Whiskey, sometimes. You'd be happy to sit there forever, never leaving your husband's side.

Steve installed a vintage claw foot tub in the bathroom. It has ornate gold feet, shiny and intricate. You light candles, close the blinds, and fill it up with warm water and bubbles. Both you and Steve slip into it, your back against his chest, strong arms keeping you steady. He washes your hair carefully, taking his time, slow and gentle. He presses kisses to your wet skin as he works, memorising every inch of you. As if he doesn't already know it by heart.

The most frequented room in the house is the kitchen. You and Steve spend hours cooking, baking, making cocktails. You'll perfect a recipe while Steve sits on the counter, stealing kisses as you work. The sunlight glints off your wedding bands, illuminating the big, open room. It's light and it's spacious and it's a haven filled with love and laughter. And cake. Lots of cake.

He keeps his promise right until the very end. He never left you again.

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sansaorgana · 5 months

Note

I had an idea earlier about buck x reader, where after buck and the other 2 escaped and left bucky behind in part 9, they stumble upon a house near the forest (after the german kid soliders attacked them).

The reader lives there and she basically helps them hiding for a bit and also returning to the english base. She is against the war (which is the reason she helps them) and maybe a little angst where buck needs to protect her at the base bc she is still a german citizen.

What do you think?

hi! thank you for your request! 💞 honestly, I think it's the first 100% angst piece I have written for Buck because even the ones with sad events that I have posted so far had happy endings... but not this one 😅 since I have already written a similar fic and didn't want to repeat the same ending... I couldn't think of anything else how they could have their happily ever after 😪 I hope you can forgive me 💔

I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻

In the heart of the enemy’s territory, he felt like a chased wild animal. Even though he was still human enough not to pull a trigger at a brainwashed German kid, Buck Cleven felt like a prey with nothing but survival on his mind. The forest was dark, muddy and unfriendly. A never ending maze with predators hiding all around. A thought of his dead friend and a thought of Bucky left behind were what kept him sane. The sun was going down slowly and he had no idea where to go. His other friend, Bill, was right behind him.

“Buck,” he hissed and waved his hand to make them both freeze in place. “There’s a house,” he pointed at the dark and old building by the country road behind the trees. “We’re close to town.”

“The lights are off. Maybe it’s inhabited,” Buck pointed out. “If it’s the case, we can find some supplies there.”

“Shall I go and check?” Bill asked.

“No, I will go,” Buck nodded and clutched on the gun in his hand hidden under the coat.

He walked carefully and slowly, making sure not to make too much noise, with his back hunched and breath steady. His blue eyes scanned the garden behind the house. It had herbs growing there but it was messy and the windows were dirty. Everything looked as if it was abandoned.

Encouraged by the looks of it, Buck walked to the front of the house and tried to push the door open but they were locked. However, the door was wooden and old, all it took was another, stronger push to open them wide with a loud squeak that made him wince.

He waited for a while to make sure there were no footsteps approaching him but when he heard nothing but silence, he entered the house and walked around curiously as the last rays of the sun going down lit the walls and the pictures hung on them. There were mostly family portraits and religious images – everything cosy and very cottage-like. There was only one portrait of a young soldier in a Wehrmacht uniform but his face was so friendly and sad that Buck didn’t even feel any hatred looking at it.

Focused on the picture, he lost his focus for a while. And then he heard a small noise and turned around with widened eyes as he spotted a young, scared woman in the corner of the room. She had a gun, too. Her hands were shaking and her pupils were huge out of fear but she was pointing the gun at him. He didn’t know if he should raise his hands and give up or point the gun at her in return – it was very doubtful she would actually pull the trigger.

He trusted no one. When he took a small step ahead to test her, she startled but she didn’t unload the pistol. So he pointed his own weapon at her and in that moment she dropped her gun and lifted her hands up while sobbing.

“P-Please, no,” she pleaded in English. “Please, don’t kill me,” her whispers were broken and shaky and Buck felt bad for her. Did she live in that house?

“Do you live here alone?” He asked, trying not to sound too nice. She nodded. “How so?”

“I lived here with my brother and my papa,” she explained and pointed her finger at the portrait on the wall carefully. “They took my brother away. In the beginning of the war. He didn’t come back. My papa, he was old now. But they took him too a few weeks ago. Because they need more men,” she was looking for the right words with her limited vocabulary.

“How do you know English?” Buck raised an eyebrow at her.

“Papa taught us. He was a soldier in the last war. He met the English and the Americans. He was a captive,” she explained and sniffled her tears. “Please, don’t kill me,” she begged once more and Buck felt stupid for still pointing his gun at her. He lowered his hand and she sighed out of relief.

“Do you need help?” He asked. Something about her and the state of this house made him forget about his own tragic situation at the moment. She was a young woman left alone in the middle of nowhere in a country that was on the verge of losing the war. It was not safe for her and she looked weakened as if she had not had any proper meal in a long while.

“Do you?” She asked.

“Me and my friend… He’s inside the forest… We ran away from the camp, too. We are American pilots. We need to get to the American soldiers. Do you know where we can find them?” Buck asked.

“They are in town,” the girl nodded. “I can take you to them tomorrow,” she offered.

“Why not now?”

“Because it’s dark already. And you need rest,” she pointed out. Buck squinted his eyes at her. “I don’t have a phone here. And German police are not here anymore. You are safe,” she assured him. “Tell your friend to come here,” the girl crouched down and picked up her gun again. Buck clutched on his but she hid hers into the pocket of her patched dress. “It’s not loaded,” she revealed to him with a sad smile. “I lost all my bullets two weeks ago when a few strange men came here and I had to scare them off.”

Buck nodded and slowly walked out of the house. He still was not sure if she was trustworthy but he craved nothing but rest. He came back for Bill and told him about the situation they had found themselves in.

“I’m not sure, Buck,” he shook his head. “Listen, what if I go there and scare her, steal some food and we run to that town on our own?” He proposed.

Buck understood where his friend was coming from. And he did not judge him. However, he did not agree to his plan.

“No,” he only said. “It’s just a girl.”

“They’re all just girls and boys. Like the kids back there in the forest,” Bill reminded him.

“I know. But she’s not like them.”

“How do you know that?” Bill requested an explanation.

“I just know,” was all Buck could say as he nodded at his friend to follow him.

Reluctantly, Bill went to the house after Buck. The girl was sitting by the round kitchen table and lighting a few candles. She looked up, giving them a doe-eyed look.

“I don’t have electricity here anymore,” she confessed. “But the candles are fine,” she added. “Here, I collected some of my brother’s and papa’s clothes for you to change. When I take you to town tomorrow, I don’t want anyone to know who you are. In the forest… There are a lot of people you can’t trust,” she explained.

“And you?” Bill asked, still not convinced. “Why can we trust you?”

“You have to,” she looked at him and then she turned around to point at the kitchen cabinet. “I don’t have much food left. And the fridge doesn’t work without electricity. I have some cans and a few wild berries I picked in the forest. Some cheese they gave me in town out of mercy.”

“We don’t want to eat your food,” Buck assured her. “Only a little bit.”

“I’m hungry,” Bill added and Buck shot him an unpleasant glance.

“So is she. And the food is hers. She doesn’t have to help us, you know?”

Bill went silent and took a pile of clothes to the living room where he began to change. Buck was left alone with the girl in the kitchen. She was looking down nervously, focusing on his hands to avoid his eyes.

“And what is your name?” He asked her out of courtesy.

“It’s (Y/N),” she whispered. “And yours?”

“I’m Major Gale Cleven,” he reached his hand out and she hesitantly shook it. She also dared to look up and meet his gaze. Buck felt his heart skipping a beat at the sight of how sad and broken those young eyes were.

Back where he was from, young girls were not affected by the war like this. Sure, they were worried about their husbands, fathers and brothers. But they were still drinking coke, danced at the parties, whined at the shortage of nylon and drew the lines on their calves to imitate the tights. They were slowly getting used to wearing jeans as they overtook the factories, they were poster girls and had their hair done up in victory rolls. They were marking the letters with red and pink lipsticks and perfumes. And this young girl in front of him already had the eyes of a very old and wise woman. It shouldn’t be like this.

“Major Gale Cleven,” she repeated. “Sounds like from a movie.”

He was just Buck. Nothing special at all. He was not even from Hollywood or New York. But to her he was already unrealistic enough. She batted her eyelashes and looked away, shyly.

“Not really,” Buck tried to convince her and she gave him a sad smile.

Bill came back in new clothes. It was Buck’s turn now but he was afraid of leaving (Y/N) alone with his friend, so he kept staring at them awkwardly.

“Go,” Bill rolled his eyes. “I won’t hurt her,” he promised.

So Buck grabbed a pile of clothes preparead for him and went to the living room to change as fast as possible. When he came back to the kitchen, Bill was already eating some canned food with a slice of cheese and a few wild berries. A similar meal was waiting for Buck, too. (Y/N) was sitting by the table but she had no food in front of her.

“And you?” He asked her as he sat down.

“I already ate,” she told him but he had a feeling she lied so he pretended to be full already after eating a half of the plate. He offered her the rest and she eagerly took it from him as her eyes sparkled. It was probably her first “proper” meal on that day.

After they ate, (Y/N) showed them to their rooms. One belonged to her father and it was downstairs. Upstairs there were two tiny bedrooms. One was hers and one was her brother’s. She wanted Buck to sleep in it. She didn’t have to say it out loud but he knew that she trusted him more than she trusted his friend. Bill was not complaining because the room downstairs was bigger and had a nicer bed.

When Bill was already in the bedroom given to him, (Y/N) was helping Buck to put the sheets on. He was insisting there was no need but she tried her best to be a good host even in such gruesome circumstances.

“When I do this… It’s a bit like… It’s still normal, you know?” She tried to explain the best she could. He nodded at her. He understood. “There you go,” she fixed the sheets for the last time and looked down proudly at the made up bed.

“Thank you,” Buck nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked up at the poster on her brother’s wall. It was very old and the colours were faded away now but he could recognise it. It was a movie poster of Charlie Chaplin’s movie City Lights.

“My brother liked Charlie Chaplin,” (Y/N) smiled. “And the films. Especially American ones. He didn’t get to see many but he liked the posters,” she explained. “When he was able to see a film, he would come back home and tell me everything about it.”

“I hope he’s alright,” Buck tried to cheer her up.

“He died,” she explained and he felt a stinging pain in his heart.

“You only said he hadn’t come back…”

“They sent us a medal and all. He’s dead,” she explained. “But papa threw the medal away. It’s in the river now.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t like Hitler. And my brother didn’t like him either,” she nodded. “I wish he was here, my brother. He would like you,” she added before finally approaching the door to leave him alone for the night. “Good night,” she walked away and closed the door quietly.

Buck was exhausted but he couldn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. What would happen tomorrow? She would take them to town, drop them off with the Americans and then what? She would just go back here? To that awful house in the middle of nowhere where she was starving and not safe? He hated to even think of such a possibility.

The walk to town was stressful and everyone kept giving them funny and suspicious looks. However, (Y/N)’s poker face and determination managed to take them to the town centre safely. It looked awful and empty – like a ghost town. She pointed at one of the soldiers patrolling the street and told them he was an American.

“Go to him,” she only said and turned around to walk away but Buck grabbed her by the sleeve of her coat and Bill hissed at him. Buck didn’t listen to that.

“What about you?” Buck asked her and her eyes widened.

“What do you mean? I don’t want him to see me,” she explained.

“You’re just going back home now?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“No,” Buck shook his head. “You’re coming with us.”

“What are you doing, Gale?” Bill asked, irritated.

“She deserves a warm meal at least,” Buck insisted and kept a tight grip on (Y/N)’s sleeve as they all approached the suspicious soldier.

They lifted their hands up and explained who they were. Their accents and believable numbers of their units made the patrolling soldier less hostile. But then he laid his eyes on the girl.

“And her?” He asked.

“She’s with us. She helped us,” Buck told him.

“I know her. She lives in this town,” the soldier squinted his eyes at (Y/N) and she took a deep breath in. “She’s German.”

“Yes, she helped us last night. We wouldn’t be here if it was not for her,” Buck repeated. “Listen, I just want her to eat something warm, alright?”

The soldier called for a few other men who came quickly after and had a short and quiet discussion. Eventually they nodded their heads at them and led them inside of a building full of soldiers. They all looked up curiously and suspiciously.

Bill left Buck’s side quickly to talk to the men stationed there. But Buck didn’t leave (Y/N)’s side as he felt he had to look after her in this place. They were given a proper, warm meal and they sat by the table in the corner. She was eating fast and with shaky hands like a starving child given food after a long while. Buck’s heart broke and he reached his hand out to hold one of her cold ones. She looked up, scared, and he smiled softly.

“Slow down,” he only whispered.

“The women here are nothing special,” one of the men sitting by the table nearby commented. “You should have seen the French ones,” he whistled.

Buck didn’t react to that as his jaw clenched. (Y/N) ignored that comment, too, but her eyes were saddened.

When she was done with her meal, Buck approached the man in charge of the unit and asked if they could give her a few cans of food and some other supplies. The man did not want to agree.

“We’re short on them ourselves, Major Cleven,” he explained.

“Yes, sir, I understand, sir. But she lives alone in the middle of nowhere. Her brother is dead, her father most likely, too. She helped us. She’s a good woman, sir,” Buck tried to convince him.

“There is no doubt about that, son. I’m sorry. She’s not the first and not the last good woman suffering in this war.”

Buck felt defeated and helpless when he approached (Y/N) who was already preparing to leave.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t convince him to give you supplies,” he admitted, ashamed of himself.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine,” she tried to assure him and squeezed his arm. “You’re a good man,” she added. “Thank you for the meal… And the kindness.”

“I should be the one thanking you more,” he couldn’t help himself and he fixed her ruffled hair. Everything about her was screaming inside of him to help her, to take care of her. But he couldn’t and it was killing him. “I will never forget you, German girl.”

“And I will never forget you, Major Cleven,” she smiled and he could only watch her walk away, approaching the small road leading back to the forest.

If Bill hadn’t been there with him, he would have started thinking that she was nothing but a forest fairy he had imagined. After all he was in a land of fairytales.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #rougegenshin #*buck #lilysfiction #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader

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buckets-and-trees · 11 days

Text

Warm Shadows - The Working of Your Hands [4/4*]

Collection: Warm Shadows Chapter Title: The Working of Your Hands Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x f!Omega!Reader, Alpha!Steve x f!Omega!Reader. Bucky x Reader x Steve Word Count: 15.5k

Summary: With your original Alpha returned to you and your new alpha waiting in the wings, uncertainty can finally be dealt with and whatever the uncharted future will be, at least you can figure out what it will be. Big questions loom, possibilities must be considered, and the chasm of what the three of you have been through must be confronted.

Content Warnings: dark themes and experiences discussed, a/b/o dynamics, angst; explicit smut: oral (m and f receiving), vaginal intercourse, double penetration, unprotected sex

Additional Notes: I've been working on this chapter for a very long time. I finally got some renewed inspiration for it recently, and I originally had hoped to finish it for @biteofcherry's birthday because she's one of the biggest supporters for this story, but it wasn't quite ready for you then darling, so... slightly belated birthday. BUT ALSO! It did so much better than I dreamed it would in my 2200 Followers Celebration poll, actually coming in the top four, so I really kicked things into gear, and thought it would be a fitting gift for ALL OF YOU now that I actually hit 2300 this week!

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The sun is deliciously warm on your face as you shift and begin to wake up. Your body feels sated and content and initially that doesn’t seem strange, except your heart backtracks when you reach for Bucky only to find empty space on the bed next to you.

Another dream. Again.

Except there’s music playing softly from the little device in your hand – the one Bucky had shared with you!

Your face splits into a massive grin.

What’s more, you can feel the tie to your alpha again. The afternoon floods back into your mind, and you press your fingers over the bonding mark on your neck, warmth radiating through your chest. As you sit up and look around, through the bond you can tell that although he’s not there in the little cottage, he is close by.

So is your other alpha – you can feel him, too.

But that feeling is also different.

The bond between you and this version of Steve had crashed into your being as a hard and rough force. It had remained a hard presence - like a wall - while he kept you with him at the first Hydra facility, but lost the roughness by degrees over those initial weeks. When he worked you through your heat, broke and admitted some of what happened to turn him to the dark Captain Hydra, and orchestrated the escape for the two of you from the second facility, the bond had changed again. The wall morphed to more of what you could only describe as a firm hand against your chest, still holding you at bay, but more of a tangible connection.

And now something has altered it again. It's a hand against your chest, but not pushing up against you.

You know the only feasible reason Bucky would have left you had to have been to confront Steve, and the shift must be due to whatever has happened or words exchanged between them.

You slide of the bed and reach for your scattered clothes to get dressed. Your fingers tremble slightly as you pull them on, the fabric soft against your skin. You focus your senses, attuned to every whisper of movement outside. The wooden floorboards creak softly beneath your bare feet as you pad towards the window, drawing back the thin curtain to peer outside. The late afternoon light streaming through a partly cloudy sky bathes the surrounding forest in a golden glow. A gentle breeze carries the scent of pine and earth and wildflowers, mingling with something distinctly... alpha.

You catch a glimpse of movement between the trees. A flash of metal - Bucky's arm? - glints in the sunlight before disappearing again. Your heart races, the bond thrumming with proximity and anticipation. You press your hand against the cool glass, straining to see more.

Then, like a mirage solidifying, you spot them clearly. Bucky and Steve stand in a small clearing just beyond the treeline, their postures tense but not combative. Even from this distance, you can see the set of Bucky's jaw, the way Steve's hands clench and unclench at his sides. They're talking, but their voices are too low and their distance too far for you to make out any of their conversation.

You watch intently as the two alphas interact with each other. Your mind races with questions. What are they saying? How much more does Bucky know about what happened now? How will this change things between all of you?

Their body language speaks volumes - Bucky's shoulders are squared, his stance protective, while Steve's posture is more open, but far more alert and searching. You can feel the push and pull of their emotions through the bonds, a swirling mix of anger, guilt, confusion, and... hope?

Suddenly, Bucky takes a step forward, his hand outstretched. Steve tenses for a moment, then slowly, cautiously, reaches out to clasp Bucky’s forearm. The gesture is familiar, reminiscent of their old camaraderie, and it makes your heart clench.

As if sensing your gaze, Steve's head snaps up, his gaze locking onto the window where you stand. Even from this distance, you can feel the intensity of his stare. Your breath catches in your throat as a jolt of electricity seems to pulse through your bond. Bucky immediately follows Steve's line of sight, his eyes finding you as well. The intensity of their combined focus makes you shiver. Bucky's expression softens. Steve's face is a mask of conflicting and guarded emotions - regret, longing, and a flicker of the man you once knew.

You find yourself unable to look away, caught in the magnetic pull of their gazes. The air feels charged with potential energy, heavy with unspoken words and simmering emotions, like the calm before a storm breaks. Your fingers press against the glass, leaving faint smudges as you unconsciously lean closer.

Bucky gives a slight nod, his eyes never leaving yours. It's an unspoken invitation, a reassurance. You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you step back from the window. Your bare feet carry you swiftly to the door, hesitating only for a moment before you turn the handle.

The cool air hits your skin as you step outside, goosebumps rising along your arms. The grass is soft beneath your feet as you make your way towards them, each step feeling both too fast and agonizingly slow. The bonds within you hum with anticipation, drawing you forward like invisible threads.

As you near, you can sense there is a tentative, almost cautious, tension in the clearing surrounding the two alphas. Bucky's stance is protective, but not aggressive. He reaches out as you approach, his hand warm and steady as it finds yours.

"Omega," Bucky murmurs, his voice rough with emotion.

You naturally step close to him, drawing comfort from his solid presence, but your eyes go to Steve.

The other alpha remains still, looking continually between you and Bucky, his gaze intense but wary. The air between you all feels charged, crackling with tangled emotions and uncertainty.

Bucky squeezes your hand, and his thumb begins to trace soothing circles over the back of it. "We've been talking. Trying to figure some things out."

Steve takes a hesitant step forward, his eyes never leaving yours. "I..." Steve starts, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat and tries again. "I know I can never fully make up for what I've done. To either of you." His gaze flicks between you and Bucky. "But I want you to know that I'm trying to break free. To be myself again."

You feel a tremor run through you, a mix of fear and hope and something you can't quite name. The bond between you and Steve pulses, no longer unyielding, but rather something more malleable, raw and aching.

“I believe you, Steve,” your voice is soft when start speaking, but as you say each word, it grows stronger. “But I also know it. I’ve seen the glimmers of the alpha we knew before all this bleed through.”

You visibly see Steve’s chest swell a little.

Bucky's arm slides around your waist, grounding you. "Steve and I have spent a long time talking. We've agreed that we need to take this slow," he explains. "For all our sakes. But we also can't ignore what's happened. The bonds..."

"It won't be easy," you say, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you. "There's a lot to work through. A lot of hurt."

Steve nods, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and regret. "I know. And I'm prepared to do whatever it takes. For as long as it takes."

You feel a slight vibration run through Bucky, and you squeeze his hand reassuringly. This is difficult for him too, you know. The alphas' friendship has been tested in ways neither could have ever imagined.

"We take it day by day," you say simply. “Even without the dark pieces, something like this is,” you pause, searching for the right word, “unprecedented logistically. There are no records I’ve been able to find of two alphas claiming the same omega.”

“How did you…?” Steve furrows his brow.

You smirk. “When you left your secondary tablet in our quarters, I figured out the password. I knew I couldn’t access any of the external network, make contact with anyone, or conduct any searches that would seem out of the ordinary, but it was safe to scour the internal database. I couldn’t tell you where we were specifically, but it was evident we were at a priority one research and experimentation facility. Their library was flush with theories and documented studies and countless records in regards to alpha, beta, and omega dynamics, mutualism, and biological networks.”

Bucky’s chest rumbled. “Clever girl.”

You couldn’t help but preen a little. “Thank you, Alpha.”

Steve shifted slightly. Together now, there were new dynamics to feel and figure out. Experiencing and exploring it all would be a constant evolution and experiment for the foreseeable future, uncomfortable as it would likely be more often than not.

But there was also a flicker of admiration that crossed Steve’s face. "That's... impressive. And resourceful."

You shrug, trying to downplay the praise even as warmth blooms in your chest. "It was necessary. I needed to understand what was happening to me. To us."

"And what did you find?" Steve asks, his curiosity piqued.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Not much, to be honest. There were a few theoretical papers, some speculation based on rare cases of polyamorous relationships involving alphas and omegas, some based on relationships that involved betas, but nothing concrete. Nothing like our situation. No omegas documented with bonding marks from more than one alpha."

Bucky's arm tightens around you protectively. "We're in uncharted territory here."

You nod, leaning into his touch. "Exactly. Which is why we need to be careful. Patient." Your eyes meet Steve's, holding his gaze steadily. "We need to relearn each other. All of us."

Steve nods. The air between the three of you feels thick with potential, with possibility and uncertainty in equal measure. You can feel the bonds humming, adjusting, seeking equilibrium.

Bucky is the first to break the silence. "We'll figure it out," he says firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt.

"Maybe," you start hesitantly, "we could start with something simple. Neutral ground."

Bucky tilts his head, curious. "What did you have in mind?”

You shrug. “Can’t get more basic than the three of us going back into that house and cooking and sharing a meal together.”

The suggestion hangs in the air for a moment, its simplicity almost startling in contrast to the complexity of your situation. Then, slowly, Steve nods.

"I'd like that," he says softly, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

Bucky's arm loosens slightly around your waist, his posture relaxing a fraction. "Sounds good to me. Though I hope you both remember I'm mostly still a disaster in the kitchen."

You can't help but chuckle, the sound breaking some of the tension. "At least some things never change. Steve, you still remember how to make that pasta dish? The one with the garlic and olive oil?"

Steve's eyes flare with recognition, a piece of the old Steve muscling through. "Aglio e olio? Yeah, I think I can manage that."

As you turn towards the house, Bucky's hand still in yours, you feel Steve fall into step beside you. The proximity makes your spine tingle, your body hyper-aware of both alphas. The bonds pulse gently, adjusting to this new dynamic.

Inside the small kitchen, you all move cautiously at first, cognizant every second of each other's presence. The space feels too small and too large all at once. You begin gathering ingredients, your movements deliberate as you try to establish a sense of normalcy.

"I'll start on the pasta," Steve offers, his voice low. He moves to the stove, careful not to brush against either you or Bucky as he passes.

Bucky nods, then turns to you. "What can I do? Without burning the place down, preferably."

You can't help but smile at that. "How about you set the table? Plates are in the cabinet over there."

As you all settle into your tasks, a fragile rhythm begins to establish itself. The kitchen fills with the sounds of cooking - water boiling, garlic sizzling, plates clinking. It's pure domesticity, and for a moment, you can almost pretend that everything is normal.

But then Steve reaches past you for the olive oil, and you feel the heat of his body, smell his alpha scent. Your breath catches, and you freeze. Bucky tenses immediately, his eyes darting between you and Steve.

The moment stretches, taut as a bowstring. Steve's hand hovers in the air, caught between reaching for the oil and pulling back. His eyes meet yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. You can feel the pulse of the bond between you, raw and uncertain. He worked you through one of your heats, and that experience was unforgettable and crucial to evolving your dynamic. You slept in the same bed for weeks and weeks now - a platonic but intimate negotiation of proximity each night, trusting in each other to some degree, but the bottom line is that the vast majority of the time has been spent with guards up between you until now. This is new and even though you're optimistic, your veins are laced with uncertainty.

Bucky takes a half-step closer, gauging the dynamics of the situation.

You don’t move, but it also means you don’t shrink or flinch. The tension in the room is palpable, but you're determined not to let it derail this tentative journey.

Steve takes the bottle with a nod, his movements careful and deliberate as he returns to the stove. Bucky remains close, his eyes never leaving you as he resumes setting the table.

As the meal comes together, the tension begins to fade again, replaced by a cautious camaraderie from things you all shared in what seems like a lifetime ago.

You find yourself falling into old patterns, teasing Bucky about his lack of culinary skills and offering suggestions to Steve as he stirs the pasta.

But reality reasserts itself in small ways - the way Steve's hand shakes slightly as he plates the food, the protective stance Bucky takes as he moves around the kitchen, the way your own breath catches when both alphas are near.

As you all sit down to eat, the atmosphere relaxes just a fraction again. You take a bite of the pasta, closing your eyes briefly at the familiar taste.

"It's perfect, Steve," you say softly, offering a small smile. "Just like I remember."

Steve's eyes light up for a moment. "I'm glad I could still make it right."

It’s going to be like this, undulating momentum and regression, but even the surety of that seems to settle your mind in its own way.

The alphas tuck in to their plates as well, and then snippets of conversation begin to flow.

"Remember that time in London when we tried to cook for Peggy?" Bucky says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Steve chuckles softly, twirling a bite of pasta onto his fork. "How could I forget? Nearly burned down the entire safe house. Neither of us knew how to cook back then."

You feel a smile tugging at your lips, even as a twinge of sadness hits you at the mention of Peggy. "I heard about that. Didn't you two end up ordering fish and chips instead?"

"And swore Peggy to secrecy," Steve adds, a ghost of his old grin appearing.

The easy back-and-forth continues as the alphas plate up more pasta and you reach for more bread.

As you all come to the end of your plates of food, the anecdotes ebb away and a more serious tone settles in.

"We’re going to need ground rules," you say, and they both nod. "But I say we start with this. We cook together, we eat together, we talk while we eat.”

“A good start,” Bucky says at the same time Steve murmurs, “Agreed.”

A small warmth travels through your chest, a modicum of surety.

Steve pushes his plate out of the way and leans forward on the table, his voice low as he speaks. "What else did you find in your research?"

You take a deep breath, organizing your thoughts. "Not much concrete, honestly. There were theories, speculation, but nothing definitive. The closest I could find were some old legends, stories of powerful alphas sharing an omega in times of great need or crisis."

Steve nods slowly, his brow furrowed in thought. "Makes sense. It's not exactly a common occurrence."

Despite all the uncertainty and complications, you can't shake something in your omega instincts that has you just believing that you can count on these two alphas by your side. Back in Brooklyn, the old Steve was the person you had grown to trust and rely on most outside of Bucky, and whoever this version of Steve is evolving into, it’s clear he is resolute in his investment in this future. It wasn’t something that had emerged out of nowhere today. You could look back and trace the threads of it coming together for a long time now.

It’s Bucky who cuts through the silence again. “I have something to share,” he says slowly, but there’s no hint of hesitancy in his words.

You and Steve turn your full attention to him.

“Well, go on, Buck,” the other alpha urges, his tone somewhere between curious, cautious, and suspicious.

Bucky takes a deep breath, his metal fingers tapping a soft rhythm on the table. "Over the last year, before all of this happened, I was already doing some research of my own.”

You lean forward, intrigued. "What kind of research?"

"Pack formations," Bucky says, his voice low and steady. "And how they could theoretically work in our modern world."

Your eyes widen, and you lean forward, intrigued. Steve's brow furrows, but he remains silent, waiting for Bucky to continue.

"It started as curiosity," Bucky explains, his voice low and thoughtful. "I'd been reading about wolf packs, about how they function in the wild. And it got me thinking about our own dynamics as alphas and omegas. How we might be able to form something similar, something more... expansive than traditional pairings."

Bucky pauses, his eyes becoming more intense as he recalls his research. "It started with some old texts I found in Wakanda last year. Stories of warrior tribes, of alphas who shared leadership and omegas who bound packs together. At first, I thought it was just folklore, but the more I dug, the more I found."

You feel a warmth spreading through your chest as Bucky speaks.

"They were rare and hard to find, but I found some fascinating anthroplogical studies on tribal societies in other parts of the world where multiple alphas and omegas lived together as well. They shared responsibilities, shared child-rearing duties. It was all about balance and mutual support."

The idea is both thrilling and terrifying, but somehow, it feels right, and your mind is already racing with the implications and possibilities.

He pauses, taking a sip of water before continuing. "I reached out to some contacts - anthropologists, historians, even.”

“Why,” Steve suddenly breaks into the flow of what Bucky was saying, “were you looking into pack formations? What possible motivation did you have before… before that night?”

Bucky's eyes lock onto Steve's. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half-smile, and he shakes his head slightly.

"Really, Steve?" Bucky's voice is gentle, but there's a hint of reproach in his tone. "After all we've been through, you have to ask that?"

Steve's brow furrows, flickers of doubt and confusion crossing his face. Bucky sighs, leaning back in his chair. The wooden legs scrape softly against the floor as he shifts, the sound punctuating the moment.

"You and I," Bucky continues, his voice low and intense, "we've been part of each other's lives since we were kids in Brooklyn. We've shared everything - scraped knees and stolen apples, first crushes and last dances."

His eyes flick to you briefly before returning to Steve. "And then there was the war, and everything that came after. The ice, the fall, decades apart. But even then, even when I didn't know my own name, some part of me knew you. We've always been connected, Steve. Always."

As Bucky speaks, the air in the room seems to thicken with memories. You can almost see them - two young boys laughing in the streets of Brooklyn, two soldiers standing side by side in the midst of the Great War and later the Infinity War.

Steve swallows, and his gaze is locked on Bucky.

“End of the line,” Bucky reminds him. You’ve heard them say that to each other before.

Steve's expression softens as the weight of Bucky's words sinks in. "Buck..." he starts, his voice rough with emotion.

You watch the interplay between them, feeling the bonds pulse with a complex mix of emotions.

Bucky leans forward, his gaze intense. “When everything with the Infinity War was over, when we were both finally free - you from exile and me from the conditioning - and we got to go home to Brooklyn, it did feel like going home, but it was also different. We’d both changed, grown. And then came our omega.” His eyes meet yours, warm and full of love. “Suddenly, it wasn’t just the two of us. It was three, and everything finally felt right for me.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Bucky reaches out, taking your hand in his. You can’t look away from Bucky in this moment, but you do feel Steve’s eyes on you now, too.

“That’s why I started researching pack dynamics,” Bucky continues. His eyes go back to Steve, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I could feel it building, this connection between the three of us. It was more than just friendship, more than just a singular alpha and omega bond. It was… family. Pack.

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at Bucky's words, at the acknowledgment of the bond that had been growing between all of you even before everything changed.

Steve's breath catches audibly. "Buck, I… I didn't know. I never thought…"

Bucky reaches out, his hand resting on Steve's forearm. "I know. And I should have said something sooner. To both of you. But I wanted to understand it better first, to see what the possibilities could be. If we hadn’t ended up like we are now, I felt that you would always fiercely protect us, like I would either of you, and if you’d ever bonded with another omega, it seemed natural that I would have felt about them the way you felt about…”

Bucky falters slightly, unable to finish. He squeezes your hand, and you grip it tightly right back.

You know there will be moments like this where the wound is torn open again, but if the three of you are diligent in working to heal, one day it may only be a scar.

A heavy silence falls over the three of you, the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. The bonds between you all pulse with a mix of uncertainty and determination.

“So,” you prompt, “I already have two bonds, two alphas, but how would a pack potentially work?”

Bucky takes a deep breath, his eyes flickering between you and Steve. "The most fascinating part of my research was about the bonding of alphas within a pack," he begins, his voice taking on a tone of eagerness. "It's not like the bond between an alpha and an omega. It's deeper, more primal."

He leans forward, an awe glinting in his eyes. "In the ancient texts I found, there were descriptions of a ritual. A blood bond between alphas."

You look at Steve, and your heart leaps because this moment feels like before, when Bucky would launch into an explanation of something he was passionate about, and you and Steve would go on that journey with him because Bucky was fiercely intelligent, and his enthusiasm when he got like this was irresistible. It’s the briefest of exchanges, but it’s like a suture in your heart.

"A blood bond?" Steve asks, prompting Bucky to continue.

Bucky nods, his metal arm gleaming in the soft light of the kitchen. "The alphas would come together under a full moon, usually in a sacred place - a grove, a mountaintop, somewhere with power. They'd bring their pack, their omegas, as witnesses."

As Bucky speaks, you can almost see it - moonlight filtering through ancient trees, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of alpha pheromones.

As he speaks, you can almost see it - the moonlight filtering through the leaves of ancient trees, casting dappled shadows on a forest floor. The scent of earth and night-blooming flowers and alpha pheromones heavy in the air.

"They'd stand in a circle, usually in a place of power - a clearing in an ancient forest, or atop a windswept hill. Each alpha would make a small cut on their palm with a ceremonial blade."

Bucky's voice drops lower, almost hypnotic as he continues, "Each alpha would make a small cut on their palm, then then they would stand in a circle and join hands, mixing their blood. As they did, they'd recite an oath - swearing to protect and provide for the pack, to lead with wisdom and strength, to share in both the triumphs and burdens."

You feel a shiver run down your spine. Steve leans forward, riveted as he listens.

"The texts described it as transformative. They say that as the oath was spoken there under the light of the full moon, a bond would form between the alphas. Not like an alpha-omega bond, but something different. Complementary. It was said to enhance their ability to protect the pack. Some accounts even mentioned shared thoughts or feelings or drawing on each other’s strength in moments of great need.”

"And the omegas?" you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky's eyes meet yours, warm and full of promise. "The omegas were crucial. They were the heart of the pack, the ones who bound it all together. Their presence during the ritual was said to amplify the bond, to make it stronger."

Steve clears his throat, his voice rough with emotion when he speaks. "And you think this could work?”

Bucky's eyes meet Steve's, a fierce determination in their depths. "I think it's worth trying," he says softly. "We're already bonded through our past, and now through our omega. This could complete the circle, so to speak."

Your mind racing with possibilities. The bonds within you pulse with anticipation and a hint of nervousness.

"When?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky glances out the window, his expression thoughtful. "The next full moon is in about two weeks. That would give us time to prepare, to adjust to this new dynamic."

Steve nods slowly, his gaze moving between you and Bucky. “You want this, Buck. I want this. But do you want this, Omega?” he asks, shifting his whole body to focus on you.

Your heart beats loudly in your chest, your eyes searching his blues, his searching yours just as diligently.

“I gave you no choice in changing your reality as an omega before, I will never do that again,” he says so fiercely it feels more like a solemn vow.

The blood running through your veins heats up, surging through you with a new fire. You don’t speak. You don’t have the words to convey everything running through your heart, your mind, your soul.

You push your chair back from the table and stand, eyes still fixed on Steve, your movements deliberate as you approach him. The air between you crackles with tension and possibility. Bucky watches intently, his body coiled with anticipation.

You stand before Steve, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes never leave yours as you reach out, cupping his face gently in your hands. You can feel the slight tremor that runs through him at your touch.

"Alpha," you say, the word heavy with meaning.

"Omega," he breathes, his voice thick with emotion.

You lean in, pressing your forehead against his. Steve's breath quickens, his hands coming up to rest lightly on your waist. The bond between you pulses, warm and alive.

Bucky stands, moving to join you. His presence at your back is solid, comforting. You feel his hand on your hip, anchoring you.

You slide your right hand from his cheek slowly down the column of Steve’s throat until your fingers rest over the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You rub gently over his mating gland, and it evokes a rumble from his chest.

“We've been through so much, all of us,” finally finding words that feel true to this moment. “And despite everything, we're still here. Still together. I think this is how it was always meant to be."

Your fingers trace the contours of Steve's neck, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath your touch. Steve's eyes, deep pools of blue, search yours intently, the ever-growing storm of emotions swirling within them - hope, fear, longing, and something deeper, primal.

You can feel the bond between you and Bucky pulsing with encouragement and love, supporting you in this moment.

Time seems to slow as you lean in closer to Steve, your breath mingling with his. You nose down his neck, and he groans when you scent him. The smell of him is a mix of leather, pine, and something uniquely alpha – and all of it familiar. It fills your senses, making your head spin. Your omega instincts finally surge forward, finally feeling the safety you needed, recognizing your alpha, yearning to complete the bond that has been forming between you.

Steve's hands tighten on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. You can feel the slight tremor in his touch, a mix of trepidation and longing.

You can see the pulse beneath his skin, feel the heat radiating from the spot. You lock eyes with Steve again, asking the silent question. The moment stretches, taut as a bowstring.

Steve tilts his head to the side, offering his neck to you.

Your heart races at the gesture of trust and submission, more surety that he’s relinquishing the dark part that had taken over him. You brush your lips against his skin, feeling the rapid pulse beneath. Steve's breath hitches, and his hands tighten on your waist. Your tongue darts out, and you taste the salt of his skin.

"Omega," Steve implores. His scent intensifies, filling the air with pheromones that make your head spin.

Finally, your teeth sink into his flesh, claiming him. The taste of his blood floods your mouth, rich and coppery. Steve’s connection to you - that wall which had been only slowly thawing - suddenly melts away as you bonding yourself to him opens your soul to him. When he’d taken you by force, it had been a physical bond that you couldn’t deny. But an Omega claiming an Alpha in return? It wasn’t unheard of, but it was a ritual that signified a mutual decision of acknowledging only the deepest, purest connections, true partnership between Alpha and Omega.

A deep, guttural groan escapes his throat, reverberating through your body. As you release your bite, you lick the wound gently, soothing it. Steve wraps an arm around you, pulling you flush against his body, and you settle yourself into his lap.

Bucky's hands squeeze your hips, continuing to ground you as you're swept up in the intensity of the moment, but there’s also something primal you sense in the pressure now. You can feel his approval through your existing bond, supporting you as you form this new connection with Steve, but there’s another element there, too. It feels like hunger.

Steve's eyes meet yours, dark with desire. His other hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. The air between you is electric, charged with anticipation. Slowly, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's soft at first, almost hesitant, but quickly deepens as you respond eagerly.

Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss intensifies. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entry, and you grant it willingly. The taste of him is intoxicating, familiar yet new all at once. A soft moan escapes you as his hands roam your body, igniting sparks wherever they touch. You can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing at your core, your clothing separating your sex from his. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate as you both give in to the intensity of the moment.

Suddenly, you feel Bucky's presence behind you more acutely. His chest presses against your back, his breath hot on your neck. "Omega," he growls, his voice low and husky with desire.

You break the kiss with Steve, turning your head to look at Bucky over your shoulder. His eyes are dark with lust, his pupils blown wide. Without hesitation, you reach for him, pulling him into a fierce kiss. Steve's hands continue to roam your body as you kiss Bucky, creating a sensory overload that has you moaning into Bucky's mouth.

“Let’s take her to bed, Buck,” Steve’s words are less of a suggestion and more of a command.

You break the intense kiss with Bucky, turning to face Steve. His eyes are filled with a primal hunger, his alpha instincts taking over. Without a word, he stands up from the chair, pulling you up with him.

Bucky falls into step with the other alpha, and they’re across the small cottage with you next to the bed in seconds.

Steve’s hands, Bucky’s hands, your hands - all three sets work to tug and strip of shirts and pants and undergarments - frenzied yet efficient, until you’re all three naked. Their touch is electrifying and immediately roaming your bare skin, igniting sparks wherever they go. The air is filled with heavy breathing and low growls as they begin to worship every inch of your body.

Steve picks you up effortlessly and lays you down on the bed before climbing on top of you. His mouth seeks out one of your breasts while his hand fondles the other one.

Bucky kneels beside the bed and takes one of your legs in his hand. He trails kisses up from your ankle all the way up to your thigh before finally reaching his destination - your core.

His tongue flicks out teasingly at first before delving deeper into your folds. You gasp at the sensation, arching into his mouth. The combination of their touches has you already on edge, but it's not long before Bucky's expert tongue brings you over that edge.

You cry out, one hand fisting the sheets and the other tangling in Steve’s hair as you come undone.

As you come down from your first orgasm, both alphas shift their positions. Steve moves up to capture your lips in a searing kiss, while Bucky replaces him at your breasts, lavishing them with attention.

Your body hums with pleasure, every nerve ending alive and tingling. You can feel the heat of their arousal pressing against you, their hard cocks at either hip, their scents mingling in the air - a heady, almost overwhelming combination.

"Alpha," you moan, not sure which one you're addressing, or if you mean both. Your hands roam over their muscled bodies, tracing scars and planes of hard muscle.

Steve breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell us what you want, omega," he growls, his voice low and commanding.

You whimper, overwhelmed by sensation and need. "I want... I want both of you," you manage to gasp.

“You have us, ‘mega,” Bucky assures you, murmuring the promise against your skin with the kisses and licks to your breasts, his vibranium hand squeezing the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

Steve shifts his position, moving between your legs. His eyes lock with yours, seeking permission. You nod, breath catching in anticipation. He enters you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. The stretch is exquisite, filling you completely. A low moan escapes your lips as he begins to move, setting a steady rhythm.

As Steve continues his slow, deep thrusts, Bucky moves up the bed, positioning himself near your head. His cock stands proud, hard and glistening with precum. You lick your lips in anticipation, your eyes meeting his with a look of hunger.

Bucky's metal hand cups the back of your head, cool against your heated skin, guiding you gently towards his length. You part your lips, taking him into your mouth with a moan of pleasure. The taste of him explodes on your tongue - salty, musky, and uniquely him.

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock before taking him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you suck.

Bucky's metal hand applies gentle pressure on the back of your head, not pushing, but guiding. As you relax your throat to take him deeper as he nudges more and more insistently, he places his flesh hand over your neck, feeling himself fill you with his length.

"Fuck, Omega," he growls, his voice rough with pleasure. "Your mouth feels too good."

You moan around him, the vibrations making him shudder. Neither of your alpha super soldiers are in any kind of hurry. Their actions are deliberate, but it’s clear the only thing they both want in this moment is to be inside of you.

Your body is alive with sensation, caught between the two alphas as they pleasure you. Steve's thrusts grow more intense, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. Fervor but not speed, and each thrust pushes you further onto Bucky's cock, creating a rhythm that has you moaning around him.

Steve's hands grip your hips tightly, sure to leave bruises, as he drives into you, and you want it.

"So tight, Omega," he groans against your sternum, his voice strained with pleasure. "You feel so good around me."

Bucky's metal hand threads through your hair, guiding your movements as you take him deeper into your throat. His flesh hand remains on your neck, feeling the bulge of his cock as it slides in and out. The dual sensations of being filled at both ends has you trembling with pleasure.

"That's it," Bucky encourages, his voice husky. "Take us, sweetheart.”

The praise sends a shiver down your spine, your inner omega preening at the approval of your alphas.

Both of them.

Yours.

The thought makes you whimper.

"Ready for my cum, Omega?" Bucky pants, his voice strained with pleasure.

You feel the first pulses as he throbs in your mouth, and you moan, blinking up at him, eyes watering but encouraging him to spill inside you.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he swears, and then his hips stutter and he groans as he begins to spill his release down your throat.

Your omega purrs in contentment as you swallow some of his seed, relishing in the taste of him. But before he finishes, Bucky pulls out of your mouth and pushes at Steve's shoulders to move quickly.

Steve understands immediately and pushes up with one hand, his other still gripping your hip. Then Bucky is fisting his cock, shooting the rest of his spend over your breasts, your chest heaving as your lungs greedily gulp in oxygen.

Bucky leans over you, his metal hand cupping your face as he kisses you deeply. You open your mouth to him eagerly, tongues tangling. His other hand moves to your breasts to rub the sticky mess of his cum over your tender flesh. He moans in what you can feel through the bond is satisfaction at the taste of himself on your lips and the primal marking of your chest. You indulge in the kiss you’re in desperate need for air, and push gently against him. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then pulls away and kneels above you to watch.

"You look so good taking his cock," Bucky remarks as Steve continues to thrust into you with precision.

Your pussy clenches at his words, and Steve groans in response.

“You should let her ride you, Steve,” Bucky continues. “She’s a glorious sight like that.”

Your heart stutters, and you look up at Bucky, only somewhat incredulously. And that satisfied curve of his lips, so familiar, makes your stomach rush with butterflies, and you chirp for him.

“Oh, that’s a sweet sound,” Steve exclaims in a rush, and before you can think another thought, another chirp bubbles up out of your chest, and you’re tumbling as in one fluid motion Steve flips your positions so he’s on his back and you’re above him, still impaled on his cock.

You suck in a breath at the feel of the new position. It causes his cock to hit new angles inside you. Your hands brace against his chest as you adjust, feeling the solid muscle beneath your palms. Steve's hands grip your hips, guiding you as you start to move.

Bucky is already languidly fisting his cock as he watches you, half-hard again, your ever-insatiable alpha with next to no refractory period due to the serum that enhanced his body in every way.

And now you have two of them.

You begin to roll your hips, finding a rhythm that has you both moaning. The new position allows you to control the depth and speed, and you revel in the power it gives you. Steve's eyes are dark with lust as he watches you move above him, his gaze roaming over your body.

Bucky moves behind you, his hands sliding up your back. You feel his lips on your shoulder, then your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. He presses his chest against your back as his hands come up to cup your breasts. He kneads the soft flesh, rolling your nipples between his fingers. The dual stimulation has you moaning, your movements becoming more urgent.

You lean back against Bucky's chest, your head falling onto his shoulder as you continue to ride Steve. The new angle allows Steve to thrust up into you deeper, hitting that spot inside you that makes you forget anything else on the face of the earth, and still it seems he’s in no rush to get to his release.

Bucky turns your head, demanding your lips for more kisses again, and you mold your lips to his. He strokes your tongue with his tongue, mimicking the way he had had his mouth on your other lips earlier. He’s always eager to kiss you until you can’t breathe, driving you to that light-headed pleasure once more.

You’re panting, your entire body trembling with need as Bucky breaks off the kiss and presses a hand to the small of your back, urging you forward. You know what he wants, and you readily comply, lowering yourself down onto Steve’s chest.

Bucky moves behind you, his hands spreading the round cheeks of your ass to expose your tightest hole. He presses the head of his cock against the puckered ring of muscle, eliciting a gasp from you as he starts to slowly push inside. He’s taken you like this before, but never with another cock in your cunt at the same time. You feel stretched in the most delicious, almost impossible ways. Bucky slowly fills you up, his cock sliding deeper and deeper into you until he is buried to the hilt. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size before starting to move.

He sets a slow pace at first, sliding in and out of you with long strokes that have you moaning between them. You can feel every inch of him rubbing against sensitive nerve endings inside you, driving your arousal higher and higher.

Steve had stilled his movements, in awe and happy to pause in order to watch with increasing lust and need in his eyes. Once he sees Bucky has settled into a rhythm, Steve adjusts to work in tandem with him, thrusting up into you again.

You can feel every inch of them inside you. Bucky picks up speed, but Steve maintains his earlier slow pace. Wanting him to let go, you set your mouth to the fresh bonding mark you gave him and suck insistently. He growls, and you get exactly what you want, as his hips snap faster and harder, both men pounding into you with a rhythm that has become almost primal.

"Alpha... alph-ah!" You cry out their names incoherently as the orgasm hits with full force. Your release crashes over you like a wave, making your body tremble with its intensity. But before it can fully ebb away, Bucky's hand slips between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that send another wave of pleasure through you. Your vision goes white as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, your back arching as your muscles simultaneously strain and revel in the ecstasy.

Steve follows soon after, giving one final thrust before he's filling you with his hot release. Bucky is right behind him, and fills you with another load.

As you catch your breath, Steve pulls out of you and lays back on the bed, spent. Bucky, still inside you, leans down to kiss your neck as he slowly pulls out as well. You shift so you’re only draped over half of Steve, pressed into his side, one leg bent up over his hip, and Bucky presses up behind you. You feel them drip out of you between your thighs, the mess trickling over Steve’s thigh and down onto the sheets, but no one seems to mind or care.

After a few minutes of basking in the afterglow, Steve sits up and looks between the two of you. “We should get cleaned up.”

You nod in agreement and Bucky chuckles before getting up as well. The three of you head to the bathroom together, sharing kisses and some heated touches as you clean each other off under the warm spray of a quick shower.

The alphas change the sheets while you towel your hair dry and brush your teeth.

You collapse onto the fresh linens, feeling utterly spent but deeply satisfied. Your body hums with residual pleasure as you settle into the middle of the bed. Both men come to join you on either side of the mattress, but before Steve can, you turn to him and put your arm out over the spot he is about to occupy.

“Wait!”

Steve tilts his head, a small frown taking over his face.

“Will you open the window?”

He arches an eyebrow.

“Please?” you give him the softest, most pleading eyes that you can.

He shakes his head, but then smiles and strides away to go open the front window, moving quickly to satisfy your request. Your chest warms, and you realize it’s not Steve’s willingness to do something you ask - he’s been a much more dutiful companion since you two escaped from Hydra - but it’s because it’s the first time you have seen him genuinely smile since all of you were back home in Brooklyn.

What’s more, as Steve returns to the bed and slides in next to you, your mind considers that this is the first night you will have shared the bed with Steve. You had slept on the same mattress for weeks - at first with you refusing to even get under the covers - but even last night, it was still a functional practice. Tonight, you want to feel his presence close by, the intimate sharing of a space while you’re both vulnerable in sleep, and you want it with him as much as you want it from Bucky.

Today transformed everything, and for the first time in months, you feel unquestionably safe.

You curl into his side, resting your head on his chest, and Bucky presses up against your back. His metal arm drapes over your waist, cool against your bare skin. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, and Steve trails his fingers back and forth in soothing patterns over your arm. The bonds between you and your alphas pulse with contentment.

You lie there in comfortable silence for a while, basking in the afterglow and the warmth of your alphas. Moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains, casting ethereal shadows that dance and sway with each gentle breeze. The antique clock on the dresser ticks steadily, marking the late hour.

The cool night air drifts in through the open window, carrying with it the scent of pine, earth, and wildflowers, and being held so warmly between your two alphas, you nearly drop off to sleep, when they start talking.

It’s Steve who speaks first, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "Do you really think this pack bond will work?"

You feel Bucky shift behind you, propping himself up on one elbow to look at Steve over your shoulder. "I do," he says firmly. "We've always been stronger together, Steve. This just makes it official."

You trace lazy patterns on Steve's chest as you consider their words.

"He's right," you murmur, your voice soft but sure. "We've always been meant for this, I think. Even before... everything." You pause, gathering your thoughts. "Back in Brooklyn, it always felt like we were more together. Something bigger than just friendship or traditional bonds."

Steve's hand finds yours on his chest, intertwining your fingers. "I felt it that, too," he admits quietly.

“Family,” you hum.

“A pack.”

"In the morning, we should start planning for the ritual," Bucky murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your back.

You nod sleepily, your eyes already heavy. "Mmm, good idea," you mumble.

Steve's chest rises and falls with a deep breath. "We'll need to find the right location," he says thoughtfully. "Somewhere with meaning for all of us."

Bucky hums in agreement. "And we'll need to gather the necessary items. The ceremonial blade, for one."

You're drifting off, lulled by their voices and the warmth of their bodies, but you manage to add, "Don't forget the full moon. Two weeks..."

Your words trail off as sleep claims you, nestled safely between your alphas. The last thing you're aware of is Steve pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and Bucky explaining some of the beliefs about the energy of a full moon and the significance of this coming full moon in particular.

Exhausted but also content for the first time in months, you sleep all the way through the night.

The sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon when you stir, consciousness slowly returning. You're enveloped in warmth, cocooned between two solid bodies. For a moment, you keep your eyes closed, savoring the peaceful feeling.

Bucky's metal arm is still draped over your waist, his chest pressed against your back. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, indicating he's still asleep. On your other side, Steve's hand rests on your hip, his body curled protectively around you. Their scents mingle in the air around you, a comforting cocoon of alpha pheromones that makes your omega purr with contentment.

You blink your eyes open, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. The room is bathed in a golden glow, giving everything an almost dreamlike quality. For a brief moment, you wonder if this is all a dream - if you'll wake up back in a cold Hydra facility.

But then Steve shifts beside you, his hand tightening on your hip. His blue eyes flutter open, immediately finding yours. A soft smile curves his lips as he takes you in.

"Good morning, Omega," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

The sound sends a shiver down your spine. You return his smile, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. "Good morning, Alpha.

As you and Steve exchange soft morning greetings, a gentle "meow" breaks the quiet. Your eyes widen in delight, and Steve's head turns towards the sound. There, at the foot of the bed on Steve's side, a graceful white cat has just leapt up and landed with the lightest of touches. Her fur is pristine, almost glowing in the golden morning light filtering through the curtains.

The cat's sapphire blue eyes blink slowly at you both, her tail swishing gently behind her.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you coo at the feline who has been coming around the cottage more and more often the past few days. You stretch your arm out and beckon her to come closer, meowing at her.

She stretches languidly, arching her back and extending her paws, before padding softly up the bed. Her movements are deliberate and elegant, each step barely making an impression on the blankets.

The cat pauses near Steve's hip, tilting its head as if assessing the situation. Its whiskers twitch slightly, picking up the subtle changes in the air currents caused by your breathing. Then, with a soft chirp, she steps up onto Steve’s hip, and then she settles in the small space between you and Steve. You brgin to lavish her with head scratches and soft pets. Her purrs vibrate against your chest. Steve watches with a mix of amusement and wonder, his hand coming up to gently stroke her silky fur.

"I didn't know we were expecting a visitor," he murmurs, his voice still husky from sleep.

You smile, continuing to scratch behind the cat's ears. "She's been coming around more often lately. You’re usually up and out for a run when she drops in for her morning visit. I think she likes us."

The cat's purrs intensify as she receives attention from both of you. Her sapphire eyes close in contentment, her paws kneading gently against the blankets.

Behind you, Bucky stirs, his arm tightening around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck. "Mmm, too early for talking," he mumbles sleepily.

You chuckle softly at Bucky's sleepy grumbling. "We have a visitor, Buck," you say, your voice warm with amusement.

Bucky grunts and props himself up on one elbow, peering over your shoulder. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in the sight of the white cat nestled between you and Steve.

"Well, hello there," he says, his voice still rough with sleep. The cat opens one eye to regard him before closing it again, clearly unimpressed by the interruption to her petting session.

Bucky reaches over you to gently scratch under the cat's chin. She leans into his touch, ready to indulge more attention, her purrs intensifying. "Friendly little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs.

Steve laughs softly. "This,” he explains to Bucky, “is why our omega wanted a window left open overnight. Had to make sure our familiar intruder could come in. I think she's made herself quite at home.”

You nod, continuing to stroke the cat's soft fur. "She has. I've been thinking we should keep her.”

The cat stretches lazily, rolling onto her back to expose her fluffy white belly. Her paws knead the air as she basks in the attention from all three of you.

"Keep her?" Bucky asks, his voice soft.

You nod, a hopeful smile on your face. "If you both agree, of course. She seems to have chosen us already."

Steve's hand stills on the cat's fur as he considers. His eyes meet yours, then Bucky's, before returning to the contented feline between you. "It would be nice to have a pet," he muses. "Something normal, after everything."

Bucky hums in agreement. "Plus, cats are good for stress relief. And lord knows we could all use some of that."

The cat chooses that moment to roll back over and stretch, her paws reaching out to knead gently against the duvet. Her sapphire eyes blink slowly at Steve, as if sealing her approval of this arrangement.

Steve chuckles, running his hand along her sleek back. "I think that settles it. She's stays with us."

You beam, your heart swelling with happiness. "She needs a name," you say, scratching behind her ears.

Bucky props himself up on his elbow, his metal arm still draped over your waist. "How about Alpine?" he suggests.

The name feels right, and you nod. "Alpine. I love it."

Alpine purrs contentedly, seeming to approve of her new name. She stretches again, her white fur gleaming in the morning light, before curling up in a tight ball between you and Steve.

"I think she's made herself right at home," Steve says with a soft chuckle, his hand gently stroking Alpine's back.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the domestic scene. It's such a stark contrast to where you were just weeks ago - trapped in a Hydra facility, uncertain of your future. Now, here you are, nestled between your two alphas, with a cat curled up beside you. It feels like a dream.

The room falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by Alpine's soft purrs and the gentle rustling of leaves outside the open window. The morning light grows stronger, casting a warm glow across the bed.

Bucky nuzzles into your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. "Breakfast?" he murmurs, his voice still husky with sleep.

“I thought I might go for a run first,” Steve says.

“You should,” you respond.

“I know we said meals together, but–”

You smile softly at Steve. "We'll wait for you to get back," you reassure him. "It's going to be important for all of us to have routines."

Steve's eyes soften with gratitude. He leans over, careful not to disturb Alpine, and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I won’t be long," he murmurs against your skin.

With careful movements, Steve extricates himself from the bed. Alpine mewls in protest at the disturbance but quickly settles back down, curling into the warm spot Steve left behind.

You curl back into Bucky's warmth. His metal arm tightens around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back.

"How are you feeling?" Bucky murmurs into your hair, his voice low and intimate.

You take a moment to consider Bucky's question, assessing your body and emotions. "I feel... good," you say softly, a hint of surprise in your voice. "For the first time in weeks, I feel safe. Whole again."

Bucky hums in approval, his metal fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip. "I'm so glad, sweetheart."

You turn in his arms and snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck and inhaling his comforting scent. Alpine stretches and repositions herself against your back, her purrs a soothing vibration against your skin.

“I haven’t forgotten everything that has happened,” you explain, “but I don’t want to hold onto all of that forever. I think we have solid ground between all three of us to move forward.”

Bucky squeezes you tightly. “I think so, too.”

You pull your head back so you can see his face, your eyes searching his. "What about you, Buck? How are you feeling about all of this?"

His blue eyes are soft as they meet yours. "Honestly? I feel like a person again. I shut everything off until I finally saw your face yesterday."

You reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his stubble. “We both needed each other.”

“Are you upset I didn’t say anything about the pack to you before?”

You only pause for a moment, looking for the right words. “No, before the incident, you were still researching. Yesterday, I think you wanted to assess the situation with Steve before you put it out there for either of us to consider.”

He smiles. “Always my smart omega.”

You chirp, and he kisses you.

The movement shifts Alpine again, but this, apparently, is the last she’s willing to suffer a disturbance, and she saunters away and hops up into a nearby windowsill where she settles into a loaf so she can soak up all the direct morning sunlight uninterrupted.

“I know I’m only going on gut instinct with Steve, but with my eyes wide open, I don’t feel like I’m wrong.”

You trace your fingers over his forehead, soothing his furrowed brow. “I think you can trust your gut. There’s something I didn’t tell you yesterday when it was still just us.”

“Oh?”

“I think I was waiting to see how you two would handle each other. But I found something…”

You slip out of his arms and roll out of the sheets. When your feet his the floor, you duck down next to the bed, lift the mattress slightly, and reach between the mattress and the boxspring, sliding your hand in until your fingers find and latch onto what you’re looking for. You stand back up and show Bucky.

“Why was there a pillowcase wedged under the mattress?” he asks.

You toss it to him, and he catches it easily. “Smell it.”

He cautiously takes a whiff, and then his head snaps back to you. “This is-”

“Yep.”

He takes a longer inhale of the soft fabric.

“It’s your pillowcase, Buck. He was regularly going on missions while we were at the first Hydra facility - not significantly long ones, usually only a day, once there was a two-day absence, but he was gone when you broke into the facility and they evacuated me away. He knew my heat was coming up. He went to our home in Brooklyn, and he brought something back that smelled like you, something small and innocuous that he could hide both from me and from Hydra. I didn’t realize it was there at first. Everything happened so quickly and I was in a pre-heat mess, then in heat. But once we were here and settled, I realized that as impossible as it should have been, there was a trace of your scent here. I found it while he was on one of his morning runs. He went to considerable trouble to go and bring me something that smelled like you.”

Bucky's eyes widen as he processes what you're telling him. He brings the pillowcase to his nose again, inhaling deeply. His scent mingles with the faint traces of yours and Steve's, creating a complex blend that speaks of home and pack.

"He did that. For you." Bucky's voice is soft, tinged with a mix of wonder and something like resolve.

You nod, settling back onto the bed beside him. "I think a part of him was fighting against the conditioning even then. He knew how much I needed you, how much having your scent nearby would comfort me. He was an alpha taking care of his omega."

Bucky is quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing the edges of the pillowcase. When he speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion. "That's our Steve. The one we knew before all this. He's still in there."

You crawl back up on the bed and lean against his chest, his arm coming around to hold you close. The weight of his metal arm is comforting, grounding. You both sit in contemplative silence for a few moments, the only sound in the room Alpine's soft purrs from her sunny perch.

"I refused to acknowledge it at first," you say softly. "But as the weeks wore on, there were little chips in the armor - his and mine - and I could see the small shifts. The Steve we knew is still there. He's fighting his way back to us."

Bucky presses a kiss to the top of your head. "And we'll be here to help him every step of the way."

You nod, feeling a renewed sense of hope blooming in your chest. The morning light continues to strengthen, filling the room with a warm glow. You can hear birds chirping outside, the world coming alive with the new day. It feels like a metaphor for your own situation - emerging from a long, dark night into the promise of sunlight and warmth again.

You and Bucky remain cuddled together in comfortable silence for a while, lost in your own thoughts. The morning light grows stronger, casting long shadows across the room. Alpine stretches lazily in her sunny spot on the windowsill, her white fur appears almost ethereal as she basks in the warmth.

The scent of dew-kissed grass and blooming flowers drifts in through the open window, carried on a gentle breeze that rustles the curtains. You can hear the distant calls of birds greeting the day, their songs a melodic backdrop to the peaceful morning.

As you lie there, your mind wanders to Steve, out on his morning run. You picture him jogging along the winding forest paths and country roads, his powerful strides eating up the miles. He’s been gone for almost an hour, and you know he should be returning soon based on the previous days as you’ve been in this cottage together.

“I think I want to go meet Steve on his way back and go for a walk with him. Do you mind?”

Bucky presses a kiss to your cheek. "Of course not, sweetheart. Go ahead. I'll start on breakfast for when you two get back. Nothing complicated," he says with a wink.

You smile gratefully, giving him a quick peck on the lips before sliding out of bed. As you dress in comfortable clothes suitable for a morning walk, you can hear Bucky moving around behind you, the soft rustling of sheets as he gets up.

As you're lacing up your shoes, Alpine hops down from her perch and winds herself around your ankles, meowing softly.

"Sorry, sweet girl," you coo, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. "You stay here with Bucky. I'll be back soon."

You give Bucky one last smile before heading out the door. The morning air is crisp and invigorating as you step outside, filled with the scents of pine, the aspen trees, and wildflowers that you have grown fond of here over the last week. Dew clings to the grass, sparkling in the early sunlight. You take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the fresh, clean scent, and step off the porch.

The forest around you is alive with the sounds of birds and small animals going about their morning routines. Sunlight filters through the canopy of leaves overhead, dappling the path before you with patches of golden light.

As you walk, you let your mind wander, reflecting on the events of the past few weeks. So much has changed in such a short time - and even more in the last twenty-four hours. You've gone from being a captive, wounded and betrayed, uncertain of your future, to being here in this peaceful place with both of your alphas. The thought brings a warmth to your chest.

You've been walking for about ten minutes when you catch Steve's scent on the breeze. Your heart quickens a little in anticipation. A moment later, you hear the steady rhythm of his footfalls approaching. As he rounds a bend in the path, his eyes lock onto yours and a slightly hesitant smile spreads across his face.

"Good morning," he says as he slows to a stop in front of you. He's slightly out of breath, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. "This is a welcome surprise."

“I wanted to talk, just us.”

Steve's smile softens, a mix of gratitude and nervousness flickering across his features. "Of course," he says, gesturing to the path ahead. "Shall we?"

You nod, falling into step beside him as you continue down the winding forest trail. For a few moments, you walk in companionable silence, the only sounds the crunch of gravel beneath your feet and the melodic chirping of birds overhead.

"How was your run?" you ask, breaking the quiet.

"Good," Steve replies. "Helps clear my head." He pauses, then adds softly, "Gives me time to think about... everything."

You nod, understanding. "There's a lot to process."

Steve hums in agreement. "I keep expecting to wake up and find this has all been a dream. Or a nightmare, and that I'm back... there." His voice trails off. “Or that I’m back in Brooklyn and none of this had happened. But it has.”

Steve's fingers tentatively reach out to intertwine with yours, his grip firm but gentle. "I know I have a lot to make up for," he says softly, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. "I hurt you both so much."

"Steve," you say, tugging on his hand to make him stop and look at you.

He meets your gaze, his blue eyes filled with a mix of emotions - guilt, hope, and something deeper that makes your heart skip a beat.

"We've all been through hell," you continue. "What happened wasn't your fault. You were being controlled, manipulated. Yes we were hurt, even devastated. But the fact that you fought against it, that you're fighting your way back to us? That’s all I care about now, and I know Bucky feels the same.”

His blue eyes search yours, vulnerability clear in his gaze. "How can you forgive me so easily?"

"Because I know you, Steve Rogers.” Your bring your free hand up to cup his cheek. “I know your heart.”

Steve leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savors the contact. When he opens them again, they're shining with unshed tears.

"I don't deserve you," he whispers. "Either of you."

You shake your head. "That's not for you to decide. We choose you, Steve. We want you."

He takes a shaky breath, his hand coming up to cover yours on his cheek. "I want to be worthy of that choice."

"You already are," you assure him. "But I know it'll take time for you to believe that."

Steve nods, a look of determination settling over his features. "I'll spend every day trying to make it up to you both. To be the alpha you deserve."

"Just be you, Steve,” you whisper. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I feel like the weight of all this will never truly go away,” he confesses.

“The work of healing is hard, but you won’t do it alone.”

He groans your name, and you can feel the guilt masking as irritation.

“And I think we should get help,” you press. “And I think we should go back to Wakanda to get it.”

Steve turns away and starts pacing. You watch him for a moment, his agitation clear in the tense set of his shoulders. You know this suggestion isn't easy for him to hear, but you also know it's necessary.

"Alpha," you say gently, stepping into his path to halt his pacing. "Look at me, please."

It’s not like an alpha command, but you know the unique power an omega can invoke for an alpha to listen to their request.

"Wakanda?" Steve asks, his voice tinged with surprise and a hint of wariness. He stops pacing and turns back to face you. The turmoil in his eyes is evident. "Why Wakanda specifically?"

You take a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "They have the most advanced technology and medical expertise in the world. If anyone can help us navigate the aftermath of what Hydra did, it's them. Plus," you add softly, "they've helped Bucky before. They understand the complexities of deprogramming and healing from that kind of trauma."

Steve's brow furrows as he considers your words. You can see the conflict playing out across his face - the desire to heal warring with his ingrained instinct to protect and isolate.

"I understand why you're suggesting this," Steve says slowly, his eyes meeting yours. "But I'm not sure I'm ready to face… everyone. To be around other people."

You step closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "We wouldn't have to see anyone we don't want to. Wakanda is a big place, and I'm sure T'Challa would respect our privacy. We could stay somewhere secluded, just the three of us, and only interact with the medical staff when necessary."

Steve's shoulders relax slightly at your words, but you can still see the tension in his jaw. "What about Bucky? Have you discussed this with him?"

You shake your head. "Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first. But I think he’ll agree it's a good idea. He knows better than anyone how helpful Wakanda can be for recovery."

Steve takes a deep breath and nods, processing for another moment.

"You're right," he says finally, his voice soft but resolute. "We can't – I can't do this alone. And Wakanda does have resources we couldn't find anywhere else."

You reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "And a deep kinship you and Bucky established. That matters."

He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It does," he agrees, squeezing your hand in return.

"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about," you say, your voice soft but steady.

Steve's brow furrows slightly, a mix of curiosity and concern crossing his features. "What is it?" he asks gently.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "I found the pillowcase," you say softly, watching his face carefully for his reaction.

Steve's eyes widen in recognition, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Oh," he breathes, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I wasn't sure if you'd noticed."

You step closer to him, your hand coming up to rest on his chest. "Why did you do it, Steve?"

He's quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. When he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. "Because even when I couldn't remember who I was, who you were to me... I knew I had to take care of my omega, and I knew you needed him."

“That, the clothes, the books, forcing me to accept my heat naturally so I didn’t experience a dry heat, mounting our risky but well-calculated escape… I think it speaks to more than being my alpha. You did them because you’re still you. I think it’s time for you to start believing that, too.”

His hand comes up to cover yours on his chest, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I want to believe that," he says softly. "But sometimes it feels like I'm still fighting against the programming, like I could slip back at any moment."

You shake your head, your free hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You won't," you say with conviction. "You're stronger than that, Steve. And we won’t let you get lost. I think it’s another thing becoming a pack will help."

Steve leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savors the contact. When he opens them again, there's a new resolve in his gaze.

"You're right," Steve says, his voice growing stronger. "We're stronger together. And if becoming a pack will help us all heal and move forward, then that's what we need to do."

You smile up at him, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. "I'm glad you feel that way. I think it's the right step for all of us."

He nods, pulling you into a tight embrace. You melt into his arms, breathing in his comforting scent. For a moment, you just stand there, holding each other in the quiet of the forest.

You tilt your head back to look up at Steve, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the intensity in his blue eyes. The sunlight catches in his hair, turning it to spun gold. Your heart quickens as his gaze drops to your lips, his pupils dilating slightly.

Before he claimed you as Captain Hydra, the Steve before - the Steve you knew in Brooklyn - had grown to be one of your closest friends. Next to Bucky, he was the person you trusted the most. There had been such a safety with him. There had never been a romantic twist or temptation, just a steadfast bond that formed.

But now, now that he's not the terrifying alpha who forcefully bonded you, but now that he's becoming Steve again and is your alpha? Your heart is starting to beat for him now, too.

Time seems to slow as Steve leans in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch is gentle, reverent, as if he's afraid you might disappear if he holds you too tightly. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, and his thumb gently traces the line of your cheekbone. The tenderness in his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes flutter closed as Steve's lips meet yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It's gentle at first, almost chaste, but as you respond, melting into him, the kiss deepens. Steve's arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entry.

You part your lips with a soft sigh, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair. The kiss grows more passionate, a slow burn igniting between you. Steve's scent envelops you, a heady mixture of pine, clean sweat, and something uniquely him that makes your omega purr with contentment.

When you finally break apart, you're both breathing heavily. Steve rests his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he savors the moment.

This feels like your first true kiss - the one that will matter for your future.

"We should head back," he says. "Bucky's probably wondering where we are."

You nod, taking his hand as you start walking back towards the cottage.

When the cottage comes into view, you see Bucky sitting on the porch steps, his metal arm glinting in the sunlight, and Alpine curled up next to him. He looks up as you approach, a mixture of relief and curiosity crossing his features.

"There you are," he says, standing up as you draw near. "I was starting to worry."

Steve gives him a reassuring smile. "Sorry, Buck. We’re good."

Bucky's eyes flick between you and Steve, taking in your joined hands and the lingering flush on your cheeks. A knowing smile tugs at the corner of Bucky's mouth. "I can see that," he says, his voice warm with affection. "Everything okay?"

You nod, squeezing Steve's hand. "Yes. Actually, we have something we'd like to discuss with you."

Bucky's eyebrows raise slightly, but he nods, gesturing towards the door. "Let's head inside then. We can talk over breakfast."

The three of you make your way into the cozy cottage. Alpine trails along as well. You note how quickly she has gravitated to Bucky, and you can’t help but grin. Breakfast is simple, but the three of you move together in the kitchen to quickly pull things together, then bring it all to the table and set in.

"So," Bucky says, his steel-blue eyes moving between you and Steve. "What do you want to discuss?"

You set down your piece of toast and swallow. “Wakanda.”

Bucky's eyes widen slightly, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. "Wakanda?" he repeats, his voice a mix of surprise and curiosity.

Steve nods, and you reach out to place a reassuring hand on Bucky's arm. "We’ve just been talking about it, Buck. We think it might be good for us to go there for a while."

Bucky sets his fork down, his brow furrowing as he processes this information. "For treatment?" he asks softly, his eyes meeting Steve's.

You lean forward, your voice gentle but firm. "For all of us, Bucky. We all need time to heal, to adjust. And Wakanda has resources we can't find anywhere else."

Bucky's gaze shifts to you, his expression softening. "You're right about that," he admits. "The time I spent there, well, even in just two weeks there it helped more than the time I spent trying to fix things on my own the two years before that.”

Bucky is quiet for a moment, his eyes distant as he processes this information. You can almost see the gears turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons.

"It's a good idea," he says finally, his voice soft but certain. "Wakanda would also be an appropriate place to perform the pack rites and rituals. And..." he pauses, a small smile tugging at his lips, "I miss Shuri's jokes about my arm."

You and Steve both laugh. Steve was going to be your tougher sell, but you’re still relieved Bucky is sold on the plan. Having a plan is reassuring, and there are many more plans you all need to discuss this morning.

“Wakanda is perfect, actually. I’ll reach out to Shuri and see if they could even send one of the Dora Milaje to come escort you there and keep you safe until Steve and I follow and join you.”

“What?” you asked, not anticipating this suggestion at all.

Bucky looks at Steve. “We have loose ends to clip.”

Steve nods.

"Absolutely not!" you protest, your voice rising. "We're not splitting up. We just found each other again."

Steve reaches out, placing a calming hand on your arm. "It's just for a short time," he says softly. "We need to make sure there's no trail leading back to you, to us. Bucky and I can handle it quickly and efficiently."

You shake your head, feeling a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach. "No. We're stronger together. Isn't that what we all agreed on?"

Bucky leans forward, his eyes meeting yours. "Omega, we're trying to protect you. To protect our future together. If there's even a chance someone could track us down..."

You feel a chill run down your spine at the edge in Bucky's voice. You know exactly who he's talking about - the people responsible for what happened to Steve.

"I understand why you want to do this," you say, looking between them. "But I can't just sit safely in Wakanda while you two put yourselves in danger. We face it together."

Steve's jaw tightens. "No, Omega. Not this time. There’s no question about this - it's too dangerous."

You feel a surge of frustration and hurt at his words. "I'm not some useless and fragile thing that needs to be protected, Steve."

Bucky reaches out, taking your hand in his. "Omega, you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. This isn't about you being fragile. This is about Hydra, and we need to know you're safe while we take care of them."

You pull your hand away, standing up abruptly. "And what if something happens to you? What if you don't come back? I can't lose you again. Either of you."

Steve stands as well, moving around the table to pull you into his arms. You resist at first, but eventually melt into his embrace. "We will come back," he murmurs into your hair. "I promise you. We've been through too much to lose each other now."

You cling to him, breathing in his scent, trying to calm your racing heart. "I hate this," you whisper. "I hate feeling helpless."

Bucky comes up behind you, sandwiching you between him and Steve. His metal arm wraps around your waist, cool against your skin. "You're not helpless," he says softly. "You're our anchor. Our reason for coming back."

You turn your head to look at him, seeing the determination in his steel-blue eyes. "Promise me," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Promise me you'll both come back."

Bucky's eyes soften as he meets your gaze. "We promise," he says, his voice low and fervent. "We'll always come back to you."

Steve nods, his arms tightening around you. "Always," he echoes, his breath warm against your ear.

You feel a shiver run through you at their words, at the intensity in their eyes. The air around you seems to thicken, charged with an electric tension that makes your skin tingle.

Bucky leans in, his lips brushing against your neck. "Let us show you," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends heat pooling in your belly. "Let us prove our promise."

Steve's hand comes up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him. His blue eyes are dark with desire as he captures your lips in a searing kiss. You melt into him, your heart yearning for this, even though you know they can’t guarantee their promises, only their intentions.

You need this.

The air grows thick with the scent of arousal as Steve's lips find your other side, trailing soft kisses along your jaw.

"Yes," you breathe, tilting your head to give them better access. "Show me."

In a fluid motion, Steve lifts you into his arms, carrying you towards the bedroom. Bucky follows close behind, his eyes dark with desire. As Steve gently lays you on the bed, Bucky's hands are already working at the buttons of your shirt.

"We've got you, Omega," Steve murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek. "We'll always come back to you."

Bucky's metal hand slides under your shirt, cool against your heated skin. "You're ours," he growls softly, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. "And we're yours. Always."

Your breath catches as their hands and mouths explore your body, peeling away layers of clothing. Steve's lips trail down your collarbone while Bucky's metal fingers dance along your inner thigh, sending shivers of pleasure through you.

"Please," you gasp, arching into their touch. "I need you both."

Steve pulls back, his eyes dark with desire as he meets your gaze. "We're here, Omega. We've got you."

Bucky's hand slides up to cup your face, turning you towards him for a deep, passionate kiss. You moan into his mouth as Steve's fingers find your most sensitive spots, teasing and stroking with expert precision.

Your body arches as waves of pleasure wash over you, Steve and Bucky's touches setting every nerve ending alight. Their scents mingle in the air - pine and metal, sweat and arousal - surrounding you in a cocoon of desire and comfort.

Bucky breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck as Steve moves lower, his mouth replacing his fingers. You cry out at the sensation, one hand tangling in Steve's hair while the other grips Bucky's metal arm.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky murmurs against your skin. "Let us take care of you."

Steve hums in agreement, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more contact.

Bucky's flesh hand finds your breast, kneading gently as his thumb brushes over your nipple. Steve tenderly kisses and licks your cunt, while Bucky’s mouth latches onto your other breast. Then, Bucky moves down the bed and spreads your legs wider to make room for both of your alpha super soldiers. He begins kissing up your inner thigh, and then they take turns giving you pleasure in your most intimate area, worshipping your sex until you’re dripping, writhing, and begging for more.

Steve moves to the head of the bed, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. With gentle hands, Bucky flips you over, guiding you onto your hands and knees. You shiver in anticipation as you feel Bucky's strong hands grip your hips, positioning you. The cool air of the room kisses your heated skin, making you shiver with anticipation.

Bucky's metal hand trails down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. Steve cups your face tenderly, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

You gasp as Bucky slowly enters you from behind, stretching and filling you deliciously. Steve's hand tangles in your hair, gently guiding your mouth to his hardened length. You eagerly take him in, moaning around him as Bucky begins to move.

The room fills with the sounds of pleasure - skin against skin, breathless moans and whispered endearments. Bucky's thrusts are deep and measured, each one sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Steve's fingers massage your scalp as you work him with your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky growls, his grip on your hips tightening. "You feel so good."

Steve's breath hitches as you take him deeper. "Perfect," he murmurs, his voice strained with pleasure. "So perfect for us."

"Are you ready for us, Omega?" Steve asks, his voice thick with need.

You nod eagerly, your body thrumming with desire. "Please," you breathe, looking up at Steve through your lashes. He dips down to take your lips in a brief, possessive kiss.

Your body trembles with anticipation as Steve pulls away from your mouth, his hand guiding you back into position. You moan around him, loving the feeling of being filled by both of your alpha super soldiers.

Bucky's thrusts become more urgent, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he picks up the pace. "You feel so good," he growls.

Steve's fingers dig into your hair as he begins to move faster in your mouth. You eagerly take him in, wanting to please both of them. The intensity of having them both inside you is almost overwhelming, but it's a the kind of overload that you need right now.

As they move together in tandem, you feel yourself reaching the edge. Then you're lost in a haze of pleasure with your release. All you can think about is how they fill you physically, and how they consume every inch of your soul now as well.

Bucky's thrusts become more erratic as he buries himself deep inside you one final time before finding his release. His grunts and groans mix with Steve's moans as he comes undone in your mouth.

Feeling the vibrations from their orgasms only heightens your own pleasure. Your walls clench around Bucky as waves of ecstasy pulse through your body.

The three of you collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and racing hearts. Breathing heavily, Bucky pulls out and collapses next to you while Steve rests against the headboard.

You lay there for several moments, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. Steve's hand gently strokes your hair while Bucky's metal arm drapes protectively across your waist. The room is quiet except for your collective breathing gradually slowing to a normal pace.

"I still don't like the idea of being separated," you murmur, breaking the silence.

Steve sighs softly, his fingers still carding through your hair. "We know, sweetheart.”

Bucky presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. "It won't be for long. Just enough time for us to tie up loose ends and make sure no one can track us."

"I understand," you say softly, "but I still wish there was another way."

Steve leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "We'll be as quick as we can," he promises. "And we'll stay in regular contact."

Bucky nods in agreement. "You know we won't take any unnecessary risks. The goal is to get back to you as soon as possible."

You sigh, snuggling closer to both of them. "I know. I trust you both. It's just... after everything we've been through, the thought of being apart again is terrifying."

"We feel the same," Steve murmurs, his arm tightening around you. "But this is to protect our future. To make sure we can live without always looking over our shoulders."

Bucky's metal fingers trace soothing patterns on your skin. "You’re strong, Omega, this will be nothing compared to,” Bucky pauses, and you feel both alphas tense.

“Compared to what I put you through,” Steve finishes.

You turn to face Steve, cupping his cheek gently. "That wasn't you," you say firmly.

Steve's eyes are still haunted as he meets your gaze. "But I still did those things. I still hurt you."

Bucky reaches over, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. "We've both done things we regret under Hydra's control. But we're free now."

You nod, pressing a soft kiss to Steve's lips. "And we're moving forward. Together."

Steve pulls you closer, burying his face in your hair. You can feel the tension slowly leaving his body as he breathes in your scent.

"We can't change the past, but we can shape the future," Bucky reminds him.

"You're right," Steve murmurs after a moment.

“I know, punk. You’re the one who told me that over and over and over. I’ll remind you as many times as you need, because that’s what you did for me.”

"Thank you," Steve says softly, his voice thick with emotion. "Both of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You snuggle closer to Steve, feeling Bucky press against your back. The warmth of their bodies and the mingling of your scents creates a cocoon of comfort and safety.

"You'll never have to find out," you murmur, pressing a kiss to Steve's chest.

Bucky hums in agreement, his metal arm draping over both you and Steve. "Till the end of the line, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Steve chuckles softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Omega,” his voice turns serious again, “you woke me up from the nightmare, helped me shed the specter of Captain Hydra; and yesterday you anchored me back to my true self again, Buck.”

Your heart both aches and soars, and you have to kiss him. When you break off, Bucky reaches for Steve’s head, and then he presses their foreheads together over your shoulder. It’s an intimate moment between all of you that you dno’t want to break, and so you don’t and neither do they.

You lie there in silence for a while, basking in the afterglow and the closeness of your alphas. Despite the lingering anxiety about the upcoming separation, you feel safe now. You feel loved now. You never want to leave this now.

“I’ll go,” you finally whisper. “But can it be tomorrow? For one more day, please let it be like this, here, just us.”

Steve and Bucky exchange a glance over your head, a silent conversation passing between them in an instant. After a moment, they both nod.

"Of course, Omega," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "We can have one more day here, just us."

Bucky's arm tightens around you, pulling you closer. "We'll make the most of it," he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck.

You feel a wave of relief wash over you. One more day of peace, of being together, before facing the challenges ahead. You snuggle deeper into their embrace, savoring the warmth and comfort of their bodies.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. Bucky buries his face in the crook of your neck, Steve’s hand moves from your hip up your side, and you get lost in them again.

read more/see extras for the Warm Shadows series

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I'm toying with an epilogue for them, but... but ah! I'm just! Final chapter finally getting to share it with you all! It's been such a long journey! Thank you for those who have been waiting patiently. I hope you're feeling all the things!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers #bucky barnes fan fiction #captain hydra #aspen wrote something #steve rogers x reader #omegaverse #marvel omegaverse #warm shadows au #female reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader

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tetragonia · 5 months

Text

Masters of the Air characters as aesthetics

John 'Bucky' Egan

Bucky was a golden hour, warm hues of gold and amber casting a soft, ethereal glow over everything. Giggles and banters over a sip of liquor. He was a low hum in a pub, filled with chatter and joy. Bucky was a worn sheepskin jacket, familiar and comforting. Waves crash against rugged cliffs, vivid colors pop against a backdrop of blue skiess. He was gentle and dominating, yet he asked to be taken care of behind closed doors. Back arching high against the bed sheet, hands pinned and left marks everywhere. He was a smoky jazz club alive with the sound of saxophones and clinking glasses, the sound of people laughing so loud until the stomach hurts. Grass stained knees. Running through the rain without an umbrella. He was classical music blasting from a cheap speaker. He was Apollo playing his instruments.

Gale 'Buck' Cleven

Buck was a calm before a storm. A misty forest enveloped in fog, with towering trees draped in moss and winding paths leading to hidden glens and secret clearings. He was both silent movies and thunderstorms that you'd feel inside your chest. Raised eyebrows and cold hands, pinching the bridge of your nose. Watching a painting a bit too long before the gallery was closed. Long walks to the library. Winter winds and freezing hands, subtle glances across the room. He was soft murmur of reassurance and a gentle touch behind the doors. Consensual and always asked if it's okay. Dark red lipstick, chilled red wine. A quaint cottage nestled in the countryside with a thatched roof and ivy-covered walls, surrounded by a garden bursting with fragrant herbs and vibrant flowers. He was Hestia tending the sacred flames.

Harry 'Croz' Crosby

Harry was the swirling feelings in your stomach night before a trip. A vintage typewriter sitting on a weathered wooden desk, surrounded by stacks of yellowing paper and antique books. The soft autumn sun. He was handwritten letters and cracked statues. Silver waves lapping at the shore and seashells scattered across the sand like scattered jewels. The rattling of rain against the window, messy and needed direction. He was scribbles and ink stains, messy notebooks, and the tea kettle whistling in the silent morning. He was urgent and hurry, but comforting afterwards. He was everything about pleasure behind closed doors. A disheveled bedroom with rumpled sheets and discarded clothing strewn across the floor, with posters peeling off the walls and sunlight filtering through grimy windows. He was Poseidon guarding with his trident.

Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal

Rosie was a vintage record player spinning vinyl records, filling the room with the warm crackle of music. He was sweet smiles and clear eyes. Paper planes. Overgrown rose bushes. That one song you always skipped but ended up loving it. He was tweed jackets and loose blouses. A field of wildflowers stretching out as far as the eye can see, with colorful blooms dancing in the breeze and the scent of earth and pollen filling the air. Gentle and nurturing, caring and soft behind the doors. He was a giver and always maintained satisfaction. He was pink-tinted blush. A pair of combat boots scuffed from countless adventures. Smiling at strangers on the street. He was all kind and modesty, but also Athena leading battles.

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whitexwolfxx310 · 3 months

Text

|| You're A Weapon; And Weapons Don't Weep ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After Bucky discovers that your once thought to be dead older brother is HYDRA's new super soldier, you're chosen to go on a mission with the team.

Warnings: **PLEASE READ** This fic contains death. If the idea of unaliving someone can possibly trigger you, please do NOT read this. Anxiety attack, cursing, angst, random sprinkles of fluff, use of y/n.

Word Count: 4.7

A/Ns: It has been way too long, but I finally got to write for my BBWWS again. I have a feeling there won't be too many chapters left for Bucky and his Sunshine. But I have been working on other ideas and another series is in the process. I hope you enjoy reading. I love you all! The messages, comments, reblogs, likes, etc. literally give me life and inspired me to come back and get into writing all over again. Enjoy your weekend, besties!!

Previous Part // Masterlist

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Any shred of hope that life would be returning back to normalcy remotely anytime soon got washed away by the tidal wave that was the news of your brother being the new super soldier for Hydra.

Tony and Steve called for intel meetings that basically became a fulltime job. At first it felt like an interrogation. They questioned you, curious as to why you would apply for an internship at The Compound. While the circumstances did seem suspicious, they eventually were able to rule out any foul play on your part.

The gatherings soon turned into wanting to know every intricate detail that they wouldn't be able to look up or hack out of any system. From dawn to dusk, the two men asked about your childhood together- trying to connect the pieces as to who Luke is, or was. Bucky stayed silently by your side the entire time and offered a stabilizing hand when things got overwhelming to discuss. But it also didn't slip by you that he focused on each and every detail, noting the intel for this mission.

After being able to specify things so minute; such as your brothers favorite books, favorite teacher from grade school, or the fact that he likes the color green- but not just any green, Sacramento green, because it reminded him of the vines that grew around the windows of your grandparents cottage that you would spend the majority of your summer's at as kids, you also got chosen to go on this mission. There was some minor pushback from the team, but ultimately Bucky took responsibility for you. You knew that he would keep you safe, even if it meant putting the part of his very soul that he felt remained on the line for you.

To say that the training was brutal would be an understatement. While the others had an entire lifetime to perfect their craft and years working alongside one another in unity, you had only a matter of weeks. You were thrown into a constant rotation of being educated on the newest technologies developed by Tony, boxing and going over endless tactical strategies with Steve, knowledge of weaponry with a hint of ballet to stay light on your feet with Nat... pure exhaustion wouldn't begin to describe it.

The day came when intel showed the Swiss Alps would be first on the mission log. Everyone was treating it like just any other, but the dreaded encounter was weighing down heavily deep within your stomach. The thought of using yourself as bait to lure out your brother spiraled into the millions of anxious outcomes that kept you up at night. Finally giving you just the smallest glimpse into Bucky's world. The doorway was creaked open to his nightmares.

"Wooow. You look like a Bad. Ass." Sam annunciates amusingly, as his eyes land on you walking up the small rear cargo ramp of the jet.

Your cheeks instantly blush, having already been self-conscious about the skintight, black Kevlar suit Nat gave you to wear. As more footsteps approach, you sink more into your seat and try to avoid any more eye contact.

"Just so you know, I heard that." Bucky's voice rebounds off of the metal walls before he even makes his way completely into the jet. "Don't try and make passes at my girl when I'm not aro-"

You don't need to look up to know that those steel blue eyes have frozen you into place, but you dare a glance. He's dressed in all black; Black boots, black tactical pants, a black leather jacket with the left sleeve torn off- showing his gunmetal and gold Vibranium arm, and a black glove on his right hand. The sight of him is intimidating, ready for combat and anything to be thrown his way. But those eyes. They hold a tenderness meant only for you. His magnetizing stare mixed with the wonderment expression on his face confirms his friends words and more. Okay, so maybe the suit isn't so bad.

"You're gawking." Sam is now at Bucky's side, smirking with his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

Bucky's face slides back into its usual consternation state before giving him a side glare. "Shut up." Sam shakes his head, laughing to himself lightly before making his way to the front of the jet.

You move to sit upright as he approaches, and Bucky's face finally softens. It always does when it's just the two of you. He reaches above where you're sitting to an overhead rack, casually leaning. Hovering like one of those seductive book boyfriends you'd swoon over, but for him it just comes naturally. Swallowing hard, you angle your head up to look at him. You find a slightly playful grin tugging at his lips and you crack a faint smile.

"You doing okay, Sunshine?" His voice is soft but concerned. A gloved thumb caresses down your cheek. The doting gesture entrances you to gently nuzzle into his palm.

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

He reflects on this a moment, his eyes searching yours. But he looks slightly blurry. The background noise is starting to become overwhelming. Numerous voices all start to overlap, the jet engines growing louder as they're warming up, the loud bang with each shipment container with weapons being loaded on board- weapons intended for my brother. It all combines into one long dragged-out, high-pitched ringing sound and your throat closing in on itself. Bucky senses this, notices and quickly acts. Wide eyed, he drops to his knees.

"Hey... Hey, y/n. It's okay." He quickly unfastens the harness from your seat. "Deep breaths." You can't help but notice how calm he sounds. "Hey...look at me." Bucky gently cups each side of your face, the intense coolness on the one side being a welcomed shock. Your eyes meet his, and when they do, all you see is his devotion. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here with you."

"I know you are." You mutter, pressing your forehead to his as you try to manage your breathing to match his.

"We'll find him." He breathes. "I made it out, he can too. I won't let anything happen to you while we’re out there, y/n." The urgency that his tone is trying to convey is heart wrenching.

"I know, Bucky."

"Here-" He pulls away for a moment to take a bag off his back. Unzipping it, he pulls out a water bottle. "Drink some water."

You smile internally at the gesture. As he's unscrewing the cap, you notice a novel in the bag. It's one he borrowed from you when you first met. There's a familiar stinging behind your eyes. What did I do to deserve this man? One who is willing to walk back into his version of hell to pull out someone that I love?

Sipping on the water of course helped, but Bucky tucking you securely into his side for takeoff is what kept the overwhelming anxiety at bay.

“I love you, so much.” You say against his chest, in appreciation. He snorts slightly, pressing a delicate kiss into your hair.

“And I love you, Sunshine.” Bucky adjusts his hips slightly. “Get some rest, we have a long flight.” Intricate fingers brush through your hair, eventually lulling you to sleep in the safe space that is your boyfriend’s lap.

Distant muttering started reeling you back from a dreamless sleep. Instinctively, you reach for Bucky whom you thought you were still sleeping on- only to find he had replaced it with his bag. The disappointment was starting to settle in when you hear his voice:

“I know how this can come across, but she’s strong enough. She’ll be able to handle it, Tony. I’m here, I can-“

“All I’m hearing is I, I, I, me, me, me, Barnes. You, my friend, were an exception. I don’t know if we can go in there and get this guy out alive, and even if we can, who knows what the aftermath is going to look like! For either of them! We’re taking a regular, a nobody off the street and putting a lot of pressure on her to do this. She’s already starting to feel it, that much is obvious. I’ve said from the beginning that this is a huge mistake. I understand your feelings here, from both sides. You want to make sure HYDRA doesn’t continue to pop up like daises and be there for the love of your life. I GET it. But this is a mistake.”

It’s apparent that Stark has walked away with the clinking of his heavy metal footsteps.

“You picked a good one, Buck. I have faith in her too.” There’s a small reassuring pat to coincide with Steve’s voice. “Y/n’s one of us now.”

“Thanks, Steve. I just… I have to save him. For her.” You can hear the exasperation in Bucky’s voice.

While tears sting from multiple emotions behind closed eyes still pretending to sleep, you feel overcome with something you haven’t experienced in this situation yet; determination. A sudden tenacity to prove the doubters that you can do this, that you can help your brother just how Bucky had, and that you wouldn’t bail and have a breakdown… again. No. From this point on, you refuse to let anyone see you as weak.

The bag underneath your head gently shifts and is quickly replaced with warm body heat that you quickly snuggle into. That warmth spreads as Bucky wraps his right arm around your body, pulling you in a little closer. His heart rate starts to slow, and his breathing becomes more regular. You just soak in the last moments before the unknown.

“He’s really going to just jump out the back of the jet like that?!” You try to yell, over the loud wind rumbling and your hair whipping around.

With Sam’s back facing towards you, he takes one absentminded step off of the opened ramp and is just gone. Your stomach drops along with him at the sight.

Bucky rolls his eyes as he hands you an earpiece, “Yep,” A second later, Sam comes back into view, now soaring with his Falcon wings. He gives Bucky a little sarcastic two finger salute and flies out of view. “He’s flashy like that.”

Putting the impossibly small earpiece into your ear, you can’t help but shake your head and laugh. It must be an almost forgotten sound with the weight of everything going on because now Bucky is smiling too.

“Well, I hope you’re not expecting me to jump out of a plane,” you say only half joking. Because if that’s the case, he’s going to have to literally throw you out.

“What did you think the parachutes were for?” Bucky asks deadpan, with a raised eyebrow and pointing to the packs behind him.

All of the color starts to drain from your face, when suddenly you saw the slightest twitch in Bucky’s lip.

“Oh my god. You asshole!” Bucky grabs his stomach and starts to hunch over laughing as you hit him in the arm. His metal arm. “OW!” You start shaking your hand out to wave away the initial sting.

Glancing at him, Bucky is doubled over, nose scrunched, laughing so hard that barely any noise is coming out and tears are welling up in his eyes. It’s contagious, especially as the throb in your hand turns into a dull ache.

I’ve missed this. Things being simple with us and not so draining. Moments that resemble a drop of normalcy in a typical ‘would be’ relationship. But I still wouldn’t trade it. Because he’s perfect. And he’s mine.

Once your lungs don’t feel like they’re on fire any longer, you let you a deep sigh, resting your hands on your hips. “God, I needed that.”

“Did you really think I would toss you out of a Quinjet?”

“Seemed like it in the moment-”

“Alright, love birds,” Tony interrupts, the heavy metal footsteps of his Iron Man armor catching both of your attention, "don't be late to the party," he says knowingly, palms glowing before he too disappears out of the jet.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine,” Bucky says, now standing next to you, “I have my own flashy transport,” he side eyes you with a playful grin.

Arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s stomach; you can’t help but snuggle your cheek into his leather covered shoulder.

Of course, Bucky’s idea of flashy would be a motorcycle.

Your eyes flutter open to see Steve on his own come into view through whips of your hair. The boys. Two best friends riding like they don’t have the weight of the world constantly on their shoulders.

Steve’s bike has a bulky, all chrome classic look while Bucky’s is a modern, all black crotch rocket. Both have been modified to drive relatively quietly, and it’s such a weird dichotomy to still be able to feel the rumbling of the bike between your legs without all the noise.

One of your hands releases the clasp they had on one another, pressing your palm against Bucky’s chest- smoothing itself along his abdomen. Bucky sits more upright in his seat to press back into you more, using only his left hand to steer as his right encloses around yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. The gesture is so minor, and yet you can just feel how he puts his heart into everything when it comes to you.

"We're going to pull off to the side up on the left. We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot," Steve's voice is solemn in your earpiece.

Bucky gives him a nod in acknowledgement, leaning back down to better control the motorcycle. This time, his hand doesn't leave yours.

The trek through the Switzerland forest was less than a mile, but with each step your feet grew heavier and that sour stomach of yours returned with the dread of seeing your brother again. If he could even be considered your brother anymore. Who knows what actually remained. As much as you have begged and pleaded with the universe to make yet another exception for Lucas just as it had for Bucky, you were terrified of the man that you would soon encounter.

Just shy of coming out of the tree line to the supposed to be abandoned old military base, you hear a series of echoing pops- stopping all three of you dead in your tracks.

Gunshots.

Bucky and Steve exchange a quick, wide-eyed glance at one another, “Go, we’ll catch up.” Bucky says, and within the blink of an eye, Steve takes off running at super soldier speed.

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until Bucky turned to face you, his shoulders squared, lips in a tight thin line. But looking between your eyes, he loosens a breath, gripping your shoulders, “Listen to me, Sunshine,” he makes every attempt to soften his voice, but a few more pops and yelling sound off in the distance making you wince. His hands grip you tighter, “I need you to focus. What I’m about to say goes against everything I normally believe, but in this circumstance it’s critical…” he sighs, looking down before back into your eyes- trying to convey the seriousness of what he’s saying, “you have to push the fear down. And I know how that sounds, but you can’t walk in there with that look on your face. Because honey, these people will not hesitate to kill you.”

You gasp lightly at the graveness of his words. It’s not like you didn’t know this walking into the mission, but it’s different once you’re actually here.

Bucky sighs again, his expression softening as his hands cup each side of your face especially gentle, “I know, baby. I know. I won’t leave your side,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “I just… I can’t lose you.” His voice cracks slightly, even at just the thought.

Even with your eyes teetering with the threat of tears, you nod in understanding. Placing each of your hands over his, you press your lips to Bucky’s- holding them there, accepting that the moment they pull apart it’s no longer about the two of you, but about the mission. Luke is your mission.

“I love you,” you murmur, before opening your eyes to see deep consternation in his.

Disassociation is a powerful coping mechanism for human beings. It can feel like an outer body experience or even a dream. More like a nightmare. But as you follow into the bunker where the screaming leads, closely behind Bucky with your gun drawn watching for any sudden movements and stepping over the trail of bloodied bodies in the hallway, you're thankful for the part of your brain trying to convince you that this isn't real.

"Still no sign of Castle," Sam's voice was pragmatic in your earpiece.

Bucky looked back over his shoulder at you while still walking, "Maybe he's not here after-" and that's when you see the slightest shift of a shadow in an inverted doorway.

It was so small that in any other instance you would just assume your eyes were just playing a trick on you. But not here. Your body reacted before your mind could even fully register- taking a sudden step to the side, you fired off two prompt shots. A heavy thud followed.

Practically giving himself whiplash, Bucky looks at where you shot and back to you. His eyes widen, mouth open slightly at the realization of what just happened. What you just did- for him. Your eyes haven't moved from that doorway, and your grip is tighter on the gun than it probably should be. Pain surges through your jaw with how tightly your teeth are clenched and yet, you wait to see if anyone else is there. Is there another shadow lurking just waiting for the opportunity to harm one of you?

"Y/n..." Bucky's voice is delicate as his eyes dart around, also looking for shadows, "we have to keep moving," he says in a coaxing manner.

I can’t. The words blare in your mind like a doomsday siren and yet you can’t speak. All you can do is focus on that that dark corner where the pool of crimson continues to grow.

Bucky steps in line of your gun with somber eyes meeting yours, causing you to simultaneously point it towards the ground and break your trance. You didn’t realize just how high and how tight your shoulders had been as you loosened your breath. A new version of you being transformed as you exhale.

“I-” You try catching your breath, completely slack jaw and shaking your head just trying to comprehend what you did. “I…I just-” and the tears are flowing. No crying, no uncontrollable sobbing, but a small steady line of tears as the overwhelming awareness of taking control and trading a life for someone that you love comes to light… just flows.

“You did what you had to,” he answers for you, nodding sympathetically. You don’t deserve kindness right now, do you? But that is why he is good. And that is why he deserves to live.

“We have to go, y/n.” Bucky says, looking over your shoulders and behind himself again. “It looks like no one else has been down here yet.” He grabs your hand, not waiting for a response before he’s treading down the hallway again.

Your feet shuffle instinctively at first to follow him, but the brightness of the flickering fluorescent lights quickly grounded you to where you actually are. There are lives at stake and you need to keep your head.

The distant noise of constant struggle seemed to almost completely stop. Every few minutes you would hear a familiar voice say 'clear' in your ear and relief would wash over you, just thankful for knowing that they were alive.

It got cold the further you went, meaning you probably had gradually descended underground. Finally, at the end of what seemed like a never-ending tunnel, was a large set of metal double doors with multiple large chains and padlocks.

You and Bucky exchanged a quick glance with one another before he fists the chain with his Vibranium hand, pulling effortlessly as they break into pieces. He pushes open the doors to reveal a large, primarily empty room aside from a bunch of dusty, bulky outdated computers. Most of the overhead lights don’t work, so it seems darker in here than it did in the corridor.

Bucky steps into the room and starts looking around, his boots crunching noisily on worn rubble and glass. You hold your breath, watching as his fingers skim along the keyboards, his eyes squinting at the monitors as he passes each one as though looking for something.

And then he stops at one in particular. He eyes it carefully before looking up at the ceiling to the lights again.

“What is it?” You can’t hide your curiosity.

“There’s still power to this base,” he says observantly, turning his attention back towards the computer. “Maybe…” he mumbles to himself, leaning over the monitor a bit, his fingers blindly searching before pressing the power button. Bucky stands back as the screen comes to life, but his eyes widen, alarmed as to what he sees.

“Bucky?” You ask apprehensively, moving to stand next to him and also look at the screen. It's mostly black, but there's a green contour of... a face?

"Hello Sergeant Barnes," the computer says with a German accent.

"Oh, what the fuck?" Bucky steps back, his hands fisting into his hair.

The voice chuckles, "Come now, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

“Is… the computer talking? To you?”

“Why, yes, Ms. Castle. I am,” your stomach turns over at the sound of the voice addressing you as well.

“What the fu-” you go to repeat Bucky’s words but get cut off.

“Does the facility seem… familiar, Barnes?” Zola asks, condescendingly. “Or, at the very least, the machinery?”

Bucky's eyes start to dart around the room, taking in the different equipment before muttering to himself in dismay, "these control the cyro chambers..."

The computer laughs menacingly, "Ah, so you do remember. Good! Good..."

Rolling his arm once while taking a large step forward, Bucky brings it down, crushing the computer completely. Exposed wires spark briefly from the powerful impact, otherwise leaving the room in silence.

“What- who was that?”

“Arnim Zola. A scientist for HYDRA. The one who, well…” Bucky passively gestures to himself, “experimented and is responsible for me.”

Suddenly, another one of the numerous screens comes to life- the digitized green face grinning, “tsk, tsk. Oh, Soldat…”

“I won’t answer to that anymore,” Bucky maintained through gritted teeth, raising his arm to disintegrate this talking monitor as well just as it says:

“Who said I was talking about you?”

Just then, you hear quick, trudged steps. The only warning you had before been picked up, as easily as a pillow and aggressively, carelessly thrown aside into a metal desk, knocking some of the computers that sat on top along with you.

You tried gasping for the air that was stolen from your lungs on impact with the floor, but it didn’t come. Instead, it burned, more than the pain creeping around the left side of your ribs as you sluggishly moved to sit on your knees. Looking up, you meet the threatening gaze of the one who attacked you.

He was exceptionally tall, especially from your view on the floor. Lean, but had an athletic build and strong. Super strong. He was dressed in all black tactical gear, the only color being a large red Soviet star in the center of his chest. A black mask covered all but his eyes, keeping him faceless. He was pale, as if he hadn't seen actual sunlight in years and had shoulder length dirty blonde hair.

But those eyes. They cemented you to the floor- glaring, daring you to move or even breathe. Just the look that he conveyed felt like you were in the presence of death itself. As you were able to take your first small breath, your lips parted, and eyes narrowed as they locked into his deadly gaze. There was such a darkness glazed over the emerald irises, but you'd recognize them anywhere.

"Luke..." you exhale, painfully. Both physically and emotionally.

His brow twitches slightly at you saying his name, like his mind is trying to recollect it from a long-forgotten dream. As his body turns to face you, he suddenly gets shoved back a few feet, "Back off, Castle." Bucky warns sternly, stepping between you and your brother.

Gripping the desk, you use it to hoist yourself up, whining slightly and grabbing at your left side realizing that you most likely have some broken ribs. The sound of your pain distracted Bucky for one second, and Luke took that opportunity to lunge forward and kick him high in the chest. With a breathless grunt, Bucky barrels backwards into you, knocking your back flush against the wall.

Luke was there in the blink of an eye, grabbing Bucky by the collar of his jacket. The two of them quickly became a tangle of throwing fists and kicks, breaking apart to find anything around to throw at one another. Overturning desks, throwing chairs, Bucky even chucked a still laughing Zola computer at Luke.

While you never thought the two most important men in your life would ever have the chance to meet, this is not the way you would have ever imagined it.

With your back still flat against the wall, you slide down to sit on the floor, starting to feel dizzy. Maybe it was the overwhelmingness of the situation, but instinctively you bring your hand to the back of your head, and it feels... wet. Looking at your fingers, they're now coated with fresh, warm crimson blood. It's getting harder to think straight with the tunneling vision, but you realize that you hit your head against the wall from the collision of bodies.

"Please..." you choke out a sob, "please, stop," you beg. But they can't hear you over their own heated screams and grunts as they continue to fight one another. Your narrowing vision focuses on Bucky, seeing that he is fighting more defensively- actively trying to avoid hurting Luke, pulling his punches where he can. Tears burn behind your eyes at the sight, knowing that if this were anyone else, it would already be over.

"Luke!" Bucky yells and quickly dodges to the side, avoiding the knife now sticking out of the wall that Luke threw at him. "Your sister came here to get you back! She's here for you. We're here for you!" Bucky maintained his distance, mirroring Luke's movement's trying to rely on his words rather than fists. They're pacing, waiting for the other to make a move.

The ringing in your ears was becoming too hard to ignore and as much as you tried to fight it, sweat started to bead up on your skin. You were losing consciousness, and fast.

"Bucky," you breathe out. His body tenses as he looks over at you, eyes wide. He jumps over one of the only remaining desks in the room and kneels down, hands hovering over body briefly, afraid to touch you.

"Okay... okay," he mutters to himself, scanning you over, his eyes linger on your hand with the now drying blood on them. Bucky gently cups your cheek, his thumb grazing over it as he forces a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You're gonna be okay, Sunshine. I-I'm going to get you outta here and get some help, okay?" His voice sounds shaky as his chest heaves, "Sam? I need a med evac for y/n,"

You nod once, or at least you think you do, as you continue to focus on Bucky. Everything around him starts to fade into a deeper black void. The last thing you see is Luke step into view over Bucky's shoulder to look down at you. At some point during their altercation, his mask had been ripped off. His lips were pressed into a thin line as his teeth clenched and remained expressionless while Bucky continued to stroke your hair and try to speak calm, reassuring words of how he would make sure you would be okay as you slipped under the surface of complete darkness.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr @skulliecadaver-blog

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bucksangel · 3 months

Note

Milk and Honey ask…

It doesn’t have to be this version of Stucky exactly it could be whatever you want but imagine Bucky and reader surprising Steve by setting up all his art supplies and then them posing for him.

I can imagine Bucky teasing him and being like “paint me like one of your French girls.” 🤭🤭🤭

I know you said Milk and Honey but this is giving me ideas for another au I’ve been thinking about writing, so I hope this is okay😭😭

Pairing: stucky x reader

Word count: 946

Summary: Steve has been in a little rut as to what to paint, so when he comes back from a weekend at DC, his loves have taken it upon themselves to help get him out of it.

Warnings: this is just an overwhelming amount of fluff, titanic references, steve and bucky are retired, hinted smut at the end so 18+ minors DNI

main masterlist | tip jar | commission me

It’s just past three in the afternoon when Steve steps out of his truck, and for a moment, he just leans against it, staring up at his little cottage with a fond smile. He’s just gotten back from a short trip to DC so he could go to a kids' charity event he was requested to be at and he is tired. Now, he could’ve said ‘no’, he is retired after all, but saying no to helping those in need is just not who Steve is. So, even though he had to leave the loves of his life for a few days, the smiles of joy on the kids’ faces when he’d walked into the building almost made it worth it.

As his eyes roam over the newly added fairy lights intertwined with the posts on the porch he hears a shriek of laughter – loud and boisterous and happy. The front door swings open, and a head of dark brown hair pokes out before looking back inside.

“Stevie’s back!”

Steve smiles wider, no doubt sporting heart eyes when the door opens wider as you practically shove Bucky aside so you can go rushing down the stairs. Steve steps away from the truck, opening his arms and laughing when you launch at him – and he’s just glad he’s a super soldier or else you would have knocked him to the ground.

“Hey, baby. You missed me?” Your arms wrap around Steve’s torso and your face tucks into his neck so even though he can’t see it, he knows you’re rolling your eyes. When you simply huff, he pokes your side, then grabs the backs of your thighs so he can hoist you up and wrap your legs around his waist. “I was only gone for a couple of days.”

“So?” Bucky comes jogging up behind you, stopping right next to you. “You can’t say that you didn’t miss us too.”

It’s Steve’s turn to roll his eyes, but he quickly closes them when Bucky puts his metal hand on the back of his neck and tugs – pulling him into a kiss. The kiss lasts for about five seconds, soft and chaste before Steve has to lean back and swat at Bucky’s hand that dropped down to grab his ass.

“Of course, I missed you guys,” Steve says fondly, adjusting you to rest on his hip so he can wrap his free arm around Bucky’s waist. In turn, Bucky places his metal hand back on Steve’s neck, and he has to suppress a shiver when he feels the ring on Bucky’s hand.

After five years of marriage, he would have thought the excitement would wear off, that maybe he’d become used to coming home to both of you, or doing mundane things together just as an excuse to be with each other. But it hasn’t, and Steve has never taken for granted the warm feeling in his chest whenever he’s with you, even if you’re together all day or haven’t seen him in a week.

Steve just loves you both more than life itself, he can’t help it, okay?

“My turn,” you whine, lifting your head up and puckering your lips so Steve can dip down and kiss you as well. “Now, c’mon, Stevie. Let’s go inside,” You say happily when he pulls back.

“We have a surprise for you.” Bucky’s smiling wide, looking over at you. When you nod, Bucky bolts into the house, shouting “We’ll get your bags later!” behind him.

Steve is a little apprehensive to go inside. Lord only knows what you two have gotten up to while he was away. But then you kiss his cheek, and the look of excitement in your eyes breaks down his walls and he makes his way towards the house as well.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting when he walked through the threshold and into the living room, but it wasn’t this. Most of the furniture has been pushed off to the side, and in its place is his easel, a few canvases, and the cart he keeps all of his paints and brushes in. With the curtains open, it’s perfectly positioned to give him the best lighting. Sitting opposite from the setup is one of their comfiest couches.

“What’s all this for?”

“You’ve been in a rut with painting, so we wanted to try to help with that.” You giggle at Bucky’s response, your face tucking back into Steve’s neck. And he can tell Bucky is trying to hide his mischievous smirk.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Steve finally sets you down, though you keep your arms around him.

“Well…” You trail off, playing with the short hairs at the base of your husband’s neck. “Remember when we watched Titanic last week?”

Steve rolls his eyes and groans. He knows exactly what scene you’re talking about. And, while he does feel like you both might somehow manage to give him a heart attack with your schemes and pranks, it’s moments like this that makes him think that it’d be worth it.

He’s so loved.

He feels it in his bones, at his core he knows that you and Bucky want him to be happy.

“Come on, Stevie baby,” Bucky says, saddling up behind his husband. “Paint us like one of your French girls.”

Steve can’t help but snort, and he feels Bucky smile into his neck. He takes a long pause, pretending to think it over even though he’s dying to say yes. He scrunches up his face like he’s thinking really hard, and that’s when you poke his side.

“Well,” Steve chuckles. “I guess you guys better get undressed then.”

stucky taglist: @justsebstan

#𖥔 ๋ .•⋆. love letters .⋆•. ๋𖥔 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #stucky x reader #stucky x reader imagine #𓆩♡𓆪 angel's thoughts 𓆩♡𓆪

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mylovelies-docx · 1 year

Text

Sorry, I Love You - Part 5

Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood afternoon, everyone.

:) Have fun

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Awkwardness, flashbacks, feels

Word Count: 1,950

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4]

This wouldn't be your and Bucky's first undercover mission together, but it would be the first one where the tension between you is decidedly not sexual. You're not even sure how well the two of you can pull off this charade since you have no idea what your chemistry is like anymore. Used to, you could do anything together, be anything together.

Not so much now.

There’s an awkwardness between you. Silences pregnant with all the things left unsaid – or should have been left unsaid. You’ll catch Bucky watching you from the corner of your eyes, always with an unreadable expression like he’s trying to figure you out again without actually asking any questions.

You can't imagine that you've changed so much in the intervening months, but Bucky makes so much progress in therapy that his confidence in himself and his personality grow by leaps and bounds all the time.

You don’t know this new Bucky, but you wish you did. You wish you had been with him to see his growth, encourage him on.

You’ve missed out on so much of your life by staying away from the Tower. You’d had so many plans that never came to be – no walks in the park when the flowers started to bloom, no trips to the beach on the hottest days of the year, no ice skating when the first snow fell. You kept a tab on everything that should have been on the calendar in your mind, noting all the days that had significance in the past but went uncelebrated this year.

But what’s done is done, and you have to pay for your actions – half a year away is a small price to have Bucky back in your life, even as a stranger instead of your lover.

You’re now trying to organize your new life on the outskirts of a small town in Russia, just a few miles away from a HYDRA base. Snow was falling thick and fast as the quinjet touched down hours ago, leaving behind a pristine blanket of white outside your new home. The small, two-bedroom cottage looks rustic, but it is still nicer than most of the surrounding homes due to Tony’s influence. There is hidden technology that will help the house to stay warm in this cold climate and random high-tech appliances, lights, and other things that look normal and are anything but.

With the HYDRA base going radio silent, you may be in this little home for longer than was initially expected earlier this year. Bucky is sure that the base is still active, though. He spent a lot of time here as the Winter Soldier, but no one has received reports from the embedded spy in recent months. This inactivity is concerning since you're no longer sure what is going on inside the building anymore.

It would be too obvious for Bucky to go undercover inside the facility, so that leaves it up to you to infiltrate as a researcher. The spy had assured last year that no one from the facility lived in the town you’ve settled in, so it’s safe enough for Bucky to remain close by as you work.

But the small town you’ve settled in is so traditional that the only way to remain inconspicuous as a younger woman is to be connected to a man in some way – be it living with family members or a husband.

And since you don't want to be labeled an outcast or worse, Bucky is here.

Bucky is going to be a mechanic at the small family-owned shop just down the road, and his prosthesis is covered in Stark technology that makes it appear as if he’d never lost it. Bucky used to spend a lot of time fixing up old cars and motorcycles between missions, so he should really enjoy spending his days in the garage helping out the Kowalds.

Unfortunately, your background isn’t as fun. You’re a whiz when it comes to biology, so Nat cooked up a false resume full of lab work that centers around eugenics and biomanipulation – things your spy had reported the facility was actively looking into. In order to get your foot in the door at the HYDRA facility, the Avengers had to create a background so disturbing that you're not even sure if you can interview for it properly.

You're just zipping up into your thick winter coat when Bucky walks out of the kitchen drying his hands on a dish towel.

“You headin’ out now, doll?” He asks, a small worry line between his eyebrows.

“Yup,” you answer back with a comforting smile on your face. “I need to go meet with our contact to make sure that everything is still okay.”

“Just be careful, yeah?” he tells you, slinging the towel up onto his shoulder. Today is his first day at the mechanic shop, so he's dressed in blue overalls with a small name tag stitched onto his chest. The sun is just barely rising, but he's going to be late if he doesn't hurry.

"You know me, Buck. My middle name is Safe."

"Your middle name is Trouble and you can't convince me otherwise, babygirl."

You stick your tongue out at him and blow a raspberry, holding your middle finger up in the air as you turn around and head out the door. Once out of his sight, you smile and bask in the feeling of having your friend back.

You'd missed the banter and easy wit you used to share together, so this small exchange feels like a return to normal. The awkwardness might return in time, but you hope Bucky has forgiven you enough to power through.

You trek along the deserted streets. The early hour and layer of snow on the ground seems to be keeping the townsfolk within their homes, wrapped snugly under their warm blankets. You sigh heavily and watch your breath fog in the air, the mist condensing and freezing your skin as you walk through the cloud.

You pass house after house, noticing lights turning on and the sound of hairdryers, televisions, and conversations humming in the air. Everything has a vague, indistinct quality to it, lulling you into daydreams of what their lives are like. Is it simple? Do they enjoy this cold, snowy location? Or are they also dreaming of a warm day laying in the grass in nothing but a pair of shorts and a tank top?

A memory worms its way to the surface of your mind of a day spent just like that with Bucky.

This was only a few weeks before your friends-with-benefits situation started. It was the hottest day of the year so far, the humidity heavy in the air and making the sidewalks and parks of New York City intensely uncomfortable. Even though Stark has the Tower equipped with the latest technology, he's incapable of leaving anything well enough alone. He'd been tinkering with the HVAC and somehow short-circuited the entire system. Everyone in the Tower was miserable and cranky, choosing to avoid one another in an attempt to stave off arguments and confrontations.

You'd been sitting in the shade of the balcony, fanning yourself as you watched all the teeny tiny people on the ground maneuver the crosswalks and traffic to get to where they were going. It was no warmer outside than it was in your room, so you chose to people-watch instead of lay there and sweat miserably on your clean sheets.

Just as some bratty kid you’d been watching chucked the ice cream he’d been yelling for only moments ago onto the sidewalk, the sliding glass doors behind you whooshed open. The sound of metal knocking against the doorframe had let you know that Bucky was the one to interrupt your spying.

Regretfully turning your neck, you felt your skin sliding wet and hot against itself. A frown marred your features as you stared at Bucky as he stood behind you, his eyes alight with mischievous glee.

“What did you do…?” You question slowly, almost afraid to know what that look was all about.

He shrugged a shoulder and smirked. “Nothing too bad.”

“BARNES!!!” a voice roared from the depths of the Tower.

You quirked an eyebrow at him and a small, disbelieving smile graced your lips. “That doesn’t sound like nothing, Buck.”

Bucky hmm’d and glanced back into the building when a CRASH reverberated from where the voice had yelled moments ago. “I was going to get out of here for a while. You wanna come?” he questioned breezily.

“And why would I want to leave when Tony’s working on fixing the AC?” you replied as you continued to fan yourself. Bucky’s eyebrows had quirked ever so slightly.

“Y/L/N!!!”

Your hand had frozen mid-fan and your eyes widened so much that Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.

“Where’d you say we were going?” you asked as you rose quickly from your seat and bypassed Bucky at the door.

***

“You little shit!” You had laughed uproariously when Bucky finally admitted to the prank.

“What else was I gonna do?” he responded, turning his face to look at you.

Even with the intense heat that day, you and Bucky had decided to forgo the climate controlled vehicles in the garage and went instead with the fastest getaway vehicle – Bucky’s bike. The wind had whipped against your body when you held onto Bucky and watched the city fall into the distance behind you.

He apparently hadn’t had a destination in mind, so you had ridden until cities and towns disappeared. He’d pulled off beside a barely visible hiking trail and jumped off his bike. You had followed suit and watched as Bucky pulled a blanket from inside the storage compartment on the bike. You hiked your eyebrows questioningly, but only got a grin in response.

That’s how you had found yourself lounging on a blanket in the middle of a field with Bucky on the hottest day of the year. You’d chatted and laughed for hours until the sun had slowly faded from the sky. Out that far, the light pollution of the cities couldn’t touch the stars. You had gazed upwards, trying to draw the constellations as you remembered them.

You weren’t any good at astrology or astronomy, but the stories behind the figures in the sky captivated you nonetheless.

You laughed again and turned to face him as well. “And why’d you have to implicate me, huh?”

“Figured it’d be more fun that way,” he had answered slyly.

You had wound your arm up and smacked him on the stomach, your hand bouncing off of the toned muscles. He’d caught your wrist on the next swing and held it up and away from his body. You’d tried to tug it away, but his metal fingers held fast and didn’t let you go. You rolled over toward him and began trying to use your body as leverage, but you had only succeeded in pulling yourself closer to him.

You huffed and blew the piece of hair that had fallen over your eyes away and looked up at him. He’d had a look in his eyes that he hadn’t directed at you before, but you’d seen glimpses of it when he’d find someone to bring back for the night.

You can’t help but think that that moment had been the turning point in your friendship with Bucky, the moment he thought about asking you to be friends-with-benefits. Of course you’d found him handsome long before then, but that was a moment that really cemented your attraction to him.

You didn’t have romantic feelings at the time, but you should have known they were inevitable.

Part 6

@jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch@stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #Sorry I Love You

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mrs-elsie-barnes · 4 months

Text

An Invisible Thread | Illyrian Warrior!Bucky x Fae!Reader | Oneshot - 5k

After the war with Hybern your village is left defenceless. Despite only having picked up a sword to play with your brothers, you’re sent into the wilds of your island to track down the monster that has been stealing from the farms.

But the monster is also on the move, and it won’t just be your limited skills as a hunter that are required to tame it or just your village that's pushing you to find it.

Warnings: the biggest warning here is Illyrian!Bucky, 18+ for language maybe, nothing scary here. Injuries, whump, hurt/comfort, some fluff, ACOTAR themes including fated mates/mating bonds. Rated W for whump and F for fluffy

Created for @buckybarnesevents Alternate Juniverse with all four prompts - fae, hunter, nurse and monster.

A/N: No ACOTAR knowledge required apart from Illyrian’s have big bat like wings and are hot as fuck.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

You stood at the edge of the village, one hand on the pommel of your father’s sword and the other tucked into the fur lined pocket of your cape.

After the war with Hybern the village’s protector’s had been depleted and, though you’d never shied away from practising with the bow and sword alongside your brothers, you had never imagined that you would become your communities only hope of protection. More suited to healing wounds than causing them, you shied away from the responsibility as much as you could. Spending your time replenishing your stocks of herbs and ointments and checking on the older residents of the village.

Honestly, you hadn’t imagined there’d be any need for you to protect anyone. But then, isolated as you were on the Western Isles, you’d never thought that war could touch you either in your community of lesser fae. You’d never been bothered before, content to live quietly and ask for nothing. Yet here you were, back to the decimated houses and cottages of your villages, poised to leave them to hunt a monster.

If the rumours were true, though, rumours of a beast running amok in the wild forest along the coast, then you had no choice.

With a final look back at the squat white washed cottage where you’d left your mother, you set out towards your destiny.

Across the island, by the shore, a towering figure bent to drink from the ice meltwater trickling into the sea beyond.

Blood dripped from their open mouth and they howled as the salt water mixed with the fresh. They raised themselves again and slunk back into the shadows of the forest, following the waterline.

—

As you trudged you recounted the tale the farmers had told at the inn the night before. A huge beast, black as night, had been spotted raiding their barn. The island was small enough that everyone knew each other, every sheep and cow and ploughed furrow was accounted for by name and the farmers shared the large barn that stood guard over the far end of the open fields. No stranger could have arrived without them knowing, no stranger could have tied their boat without the fishermen being alert.

But this thing was no man, it was a beast, a fury, sent to torment them and the assembled village had turned to you.

If it truly was a beast, something that could fly and steal cattle and destroy crops as the farmers claimed then you had no clue how you would slay such a thing. Your sword was heavy and sharp, but your skills were still basic no matter how you tried, this was not your calling. Your bow was taught and your arrows true, but practising with your brothers was a jest.

After the weeks and months without them, perhaps it would be a blessing to sacrifice yourself for the village as they had. To be relieved of the torment of their passing.

Sighing you pulled a hard biscuit from your pack and continued on into the dense trees that occupied one side of the island. You could remember far enough back to when the forest took over almost the whole island, your brothers and father clearing a space for the now well tilled farmland that insulated the village from the wildness beyond. The forest and the farm lived together side by side, each animal and plant having its own sacred place within the system. Each farmer conscious of keeping the wheel moving each season.

No one had ever feared the forest as they did now.

Your first night amid the trees past uneventfully, used to spending most of your time outside the creatures of the night didn’t scare you, neither did they fear you, choosing to approach your fireside. You weren’t entirely convinced of their being a beast within the forest either, no beast liked to cross the salt sea from the mainland, even if they could escape the Prison, there would be little for a monster here. You told yourself over and over, as sleep took you, that any monster would head to the middle, and not to the Isles.

It seemed more likely that there was something trapped in the trees. Nevertheless you made sure to set traps around the clearing before finally laying down to sleep.

There was a light in the forest, smoke pluming briefly before dying down into soft trails of grey that mixed with the iron sky, fading into the stars as the moon rose. Tempted by the smell it approached, its gait unsteady in the soft ground, weighed down by its own body, blood still spilling into the dry leaves.

Closer, closer, heaving its mighty body along the ridge of rocks that crawled across the middle of the island. It had been this way before, it had taken vegetables and savoured the earthy taste of them, raw and unwashed against its tongue. It had slipped into the barn and stolen a pail of fresh milk, still warm and buttery.

Perhaps the smoke meant more food. But its body was tired, it groaned and slumped against a tree, wrapping into itself, a darkness thicker and colder than the world around.

In the morning you kicked dirt over the small fire, putting out the flame. The forest was still yours to protect, even if it did harbour a threat.

You’d sharpened your sword before sleeping, leaving it unsheathed by your side. Every arrow in your quiver had new fletching, the ash carefully crafted from the few small trees the village grew at its centre, a protection against any further cruelty coming to your shores.

The forest was alive in the brisk early morning air, the sky pink and lilac through the canopy, rising with the mist like a slumbering dragon, stretching and yawning into a bright spring day.

As you ventured deeper you found the ground already disturbed. When you were younger you may have doubted yourself, wondering if the tracks were your own. But you could navigate well enough now, the sun high above you leaning into the west of the island, its heat peaking.

Whatever it was that had stumbled through here had done so some days ago, dragging itself if the scars in the soft soil were true. It was larger than you as well, larger by at least a foot. You trained your eyes up into the trees and sure enough there were broken branches there too.

At a trot you ran between the trees, following the path of broken twigs and scored earth. There was something else, something in the air by each tree, metallic, like iron. Blood, you could almost taste it it was so strong. But it wasn’t until the seventh tree that you saw it, marked high on the bark, as if this tall beast had propped themself against it, a red smear. And underneath there were a few bones, feathers and leftover vegetables.

If this was a beast, it was a beast that didn’t like carrot tops.

It grew tired again. Sooner than last time. It looked into the sky, its eyesight blurring, as it made its way back to the cave it had begun to call home. Inside its howls were louder, but at least the rain couldn’t find a way in, at least the air was warm and the ground soft.

It lay down and closed its eyes.

The sky turned darker, thick clouds billowing overhead, the muggy heat of an oncoming storm weighing you down. It was too far to return to your village, you’d never make it before the rain started and you knew what could happen if the lightning struck the trees, so a camp in the forest was out of the question.

At this rate you could make the other coast before the sunset and you knew there would be shelter there in the rocky outcrops before the dunes crept into the island. With a sigh you hefted your pack higher and began the uneasy walk through the rougher terrain.

The rain began to fall just as you crested over the cliff top. A fisherman had advised you of the safest ways across this portion of the island but your feet still slipped on the shale as you made your way down the rocky face. You’d spotted the cave while the sun was still high. With a view down the banks of rock and sand it gave you a good look out, close enough to the woods for shelter but open enough to watch the weather change. On closer inspection there was a significant plateau in front of the cave, perhaps enough to start a small fire to heat the stone inside and cook something hot if you were lucky.

Slowly you inched closer, sword drawn in case something wild was also sleeping inside. You hadn’t seen the blood trail for some time but you had a lingering sense of something that had you tightening your grip on the handle. It tugged at you, tempting you closer and making your heart beat wildly.

Once inside the lip of the cave you dropped your pack and pulled out a box of tinder and some twigs you’d collected along the way, stacking up the kindling into a small fire. But without the light from the sun it was hard to even find a spark. With a sigh you abandoned your plans for heat and decided to set out your blanket and try to sleep instead, hopefully that strange feeling would pass while you dreamt and you could wake up refreshed and ready to search anew.

The raindrops were heavier now, fat and cold and insistent, driving you deeper into the cave in search of a dry space where the wind couldn’t blow the weather inside.

As your eyes adjusted to the dusky darkness you began to pick out details of the cave, the jagged rocks on the other side, the low rock just right for resting your sword and bow on and, at the back, something large. The darkness seemed to move differently there, a different shade of black that sucked the light from the rest of the cave. Whatever it was, it was huge but still.

Slowly you reached for your dagger, too frightened to lunge for your sword in case it made the darkness move too. But it stayed still. Carefully, you moved your feet over the rocky ground, your toes light and body ready to fight.

The darkness didn’t move, but it did make a noise, a deep grumble and for a moment you wondered whether it was the darkness inside or the darkness outside that had startled you.

Then it moved, slow and deliberate, the darkness expanded and flared outwards, turning towards you and despite everything your brother’s had taught you, despite your own mind begging you to stay silent - you screamed.

It hurt, it hurt everywhere and all of the time. Its body ached, its stomach felt concave from lack of food and its head pounded from dehydration. The storm was close, the wind spoke to it through the rustle of the trees and the feel of the salt air, it spoke to it and told it to sleep, that the storm would pass but it should sleep. It shifted, stretching its aching body -

And then there was a scream.

You lurched back, scrambling for your sword as you fell, grasping for anything that would protect you from the monster that continued to grow before your eyes. Up and up it stood filling the entire back of the cave, its body unfurling and its wings spreading into the rock above. The tip of one unholy claw scratched at the cave roof and you screamed again, turning to run from it, to take your chances in the rain rather than stay a moment with this beast. But it had other ideas, reaching for you with one huge arm it grabbed you and held you, the other came up to cover your mouth, its hand so large its thumb pressed against your nose.

Not a monster. A male. With hands and arms, tanned and windburnt from days in the forest.

“Please, stop screaming.” It growled again and you went silent but you didn’t still, wriggling and writhing in an attempt to free yourself. “Please,” it said again, and it was almost sad, pleading. So you stopped.

He held you tight against his chest, his heart hammering, his muscles burning with the effort of his movement. Steadily he lowered you to the floor, careful to avoid the rocks that might trip or scratch you, and then let himself slide down the cave wall until he was once more huddled on the floor.

“Please, don’t scream - my head.” He bent to lay his forehead against his knees, “the storm, lightning in the trees, don’t.”

He was so weak, so worried, so tired, he allowed his eyes to close, focusing on the sound of you moving.

“Don’t.” He repeated and your footsteps moved again, closer, little rocks skudding under your boots, and then a small palm on the back of his neck.

“You have a fever.” Your voice was gentle, now that the screaming had stopped, and your touch a relief, so cold, so soothing. “Rest.”

Now that he wasn’t towering over you, there was something vulnerable and sad about the so-called monster. His voice stuttered as he begged you for quiet and, against your better judgement, you allowed the sound of rain rushing over the lip of the rock and into the sea to fill the space, echoing into the cavern like a heartbeat.

Lightning flashed, lighting up half of his face in clammy, pale light. You took a step towards him, still wary, still conscious of the stories told to you by your brothers, and you touched his neck where his hair had fallen away in long strands about his face. His skin was clammy too and cold to the touch, but he shivered nevertheless.

“You have a fever.” You said, matter of fact, “rest.”

He nodded and all but fell sideways into the blanket roll tucked against one side of the cave.

“You too.” He grunted, and for the first time you assessed your own damp clothes and the way you’d begun to shiver. Quickly you stripped out of your waxed cape and boots, placing them carefully in a dry spot. Your shirt and vest were dry, protected by the cape, but the long trousers you’d worn were soaked through.

Peering at the male you made sure his breathing was steady and even before you removed your trousers and slipped between your folded blanket in just your shirt and cotton bloomers.

Sleep did not come easily for the male. He kept to his side of the cave but his fever made him grunt and shout in his sleep, his arms and hands lashing out along with his thrashing body. So you didn’t sleep, you observed him instead. Waiting for dawn to break the storm.

Even in the moonlight he was still big, tall and broad, his muscles showing even through the dark leather and ripped linen of his clothes. And he was winged. The source of the fear and confusion for your neighbours, as well as yourself. Airborne he must have looked as majestic as he was terrifying. An Illyrian warrior, so far from home, circling the village. No wonder those who had glimpsed him had been afraid.

Now those enormous wings were tucked around him, glowing a deep red every time the lightning crashed across the sky, tiny veins picked out around the edges as well as a large gash in his left wing. It lay almost limp on the ground while the right was tucked in tight to his side. It looked painful and blood oozed slowly from the delicate membrane but only slowly. The cut to his side looked much worse.

The sun was almost back now, a wan light filtering into the cave and allowing you to survey the Illyrian more closely, especially the cuts and bruises that littered his body.

At some point, he had removed part of his leather armour, discarding it to one side where the dark blue siphon blinked with light whenever he groaned. Without the protection of the armour and siphon, his side was entirely revealed through the matching cut in his shirt. It was deep and already looked swollen at the edges - infected, you were sure, probably the cause of the clammy fever.

Despite yourself you allowed your tired eyes to rove over his body, the gaps in his shirt revealing the details of his toned chest, the swirling black ink running from his left arm, up over his shoulders and then down between his pecs and towards the v of his abdomen where the ink disappeared among a smattering of hair.

Heat flooded your cheeks. He was an injured male, an Illyrian warrior, a revered race bound to protect your people. You were certainly not supposed to be drooling after him while he slept.

You swallowed heavily and tried to concentrate on his needs, rather than your own.

Daring to look again you followed the tattoos back up towards his face, long dark hair still tangled at his shoulders, a stubbled beard covered his chin, his lips tilting into a smile because - oh - his eyes were open, bright summer sky blue, and tracking your every move.

“Hello,” he croaked and watched as you shuffled back against the wall.

He closed his eyes again, as if even having them open was painful.

“Hello,” you whispered, keeping a keen eye trained on him.

“I’m Bucky,” he said, his head still pounded. “Can you pass me the canteen from my pack?” Without looking he gestured behind him.

“Yes.”

He listened to the sound of you moving and then the cool metal of the canteen touched his fingers. You introduced yourself but as soon as he started to move you hurried back to your side of the cave.

Slowly, so as not to frighten you, he sat up and took a long swig before offering it to you.

You looked tired, wrecked, but not injured. You were back under your own blanket and he noticed the too-big trousers you’d been wearing were now carefully arranged on a rock to dry. Bucky hummed to himself, that was why you’d scurried back when he’d opened his eyes.

Your eyes flicked to the trousers too, and then back to him. “They were wet, I didn’t want to catch a chill.”

“Sensible,” he agreed, putting a hand to his side.

“You’re hurt, and sick, you were feverish.”

“I was, I probably still am.” He agreed looking you over with the same interest that he’d found in your eyes.

You were a very pleasant sight after so many nights alone, a wildness to your bonny face and full body. Even hidden under the folds of your shirt he could tell that you would be soft and warm to hold. With a groan he closed his eyes again. To be held and cared for by a female, to smell the spring breeze in your hair, to taste the salt of the sea on your skin. Maybe he was halfway to the afterlife and an angel had been sent to rescue him.

“Thank the cauldron and the mother.” He sighed happily, swaying sideways and passing out.

The Illyrian had watched you with eyes that toed the line between hungry and hopeful. His bold gaze made you feel warm again, heat sitting heavy in your stomach, and then he mumbled something and slid to the side.

Thankfully his arm stopped him from bumping his head, but looking at his now glazed eyes he had definitely fainted.

Without thinking you sprang into action, rolling him carefully so that if he was sick he wouldn’t choke or swallow his tongue. His skin was cold again, but sweaty, sticking the strands of his hair to his forehead in curls.

He needed help, quickly, but you had nothing of any great use in your bag. There was the canteen of water and some food in his own pack and a flask with what smelt like whisky in the side pocket. You withdrew the mess tin from your own pack and tried to make a fire again, hoping to boil enough clean water to be able to clean and dress his wounds. But the damp air and howling wind blew wet dirt over your kindling.

Instead you tugged a strip of linen from the end of your shirt, trying to find the cleanest corner first and ripping higher until the long tails no longer brushed over your thighs but sat as high has your belly button, revealing your midriff to the chill air. Goosebumps raised over your arms, but you didn’t hesitate, tipping some of the whisky onto the cloth and gently dabbing at the gash to his side. There were splinters still protruding from the edges, which you pulled out as quickly as you could.

Ash, an arrow, perhaps, or a long lance fired into the sky, judging by the way the gash lined up with the tear in Bucky’s wing. Bruises bloomed under his tattoos like flowers, colouring in the gaps of the patterns. He’d fallen, then, after the hit. Probably outside of the village.

“Why didn’t you ask for help.” You muttered under your breath, placing a square of whisky soaked cloth over the wound and pressing down.

“Because I was already ashamed.” Came the pained whisper.

“Why would you be ashamed?” With a tug on his arm you helped him sit, passing a long length of cloth around his back, bandaging the makeshift plaster into place.

With your arms around him you had no choice but to lean in close, your face below his, his breath fanning over your cheek. He held one end in place, leaning drowsily into you while you tied a tight knot on his right, well away from the injury. His left hand, clearly weakened by his fall, sat lightly on your hip, keeping you steady.

“I let my battalion down, my friends down,I couldn’t fight.” His eyes closed again but his hands didn’t move, their hold surprisingly delicate until he began to slump to the side again, dragging you with him. “I was injured and, I’m not really sure why, but I flew here. It felt like the right thing to do, like the Mother was guiding me, so I let her.”

With a huff you tried to wiggle away, but his hand tightened.

“I’m so cold, please stay.” His breath tickled your neck where he’d pressed his face into your collar bone and you couldn’t deny him. The tugging sensation in your chest was back and the thought of staying with him made you want to release it in a long contented purr.

Curling beside him you let his hand settle on your now bare waist, his broad palm on your back a relief from the cold air gusting through the entrance of the cave.

Bucky’s breathing slowed to an even beat, his body relaxing into his dreams and you fell with him, pulled tighter against his chest, the smell of the whisky washed over you and his wing curled in, cocooning you in his embrace.

You woke to find yourself surprisingly well rested. The storm, having blown itself out battering the beach and forest, had made way for a bright morning. Bucky’s hand was still at your waist, but you’d moved in your sleep you were now facing away from him, his fingers sneaking under the hem of your shirt and tickling your ribs. From his steady breaths you assumed he was still asleep and allowed yourself a moment to enjoy the closeness of his body, the way his wing curved over you both, filtering the light into a pink glow and blocking the boisterous breeze now coming in off the sea.

There was something right about the way he held you, comforting and close. Despite knowing you should rise, you simply couldn’t, as if that invisible rope that had led you in now kept you beside him. In his sleep he dragged you closer, his hand splaying higher on your stomach, his thumb pressing the underside of your breast. In response, your nipples pebbled and you promised yourself it was just the cold air, just the breeze and the morning chill and nothing to do with the wonderful pressure of the male’s body behind you. Nothing to do with his rich scent of whisky and peat and possibility.

He hummed in his sleep again, nuzzling the back of your neck and then, suddenly, he was awake. His hand was gone and your chest felt cold without his touch. The sound of his wing claws catching on the jagged roof had you whipping your head around and staring into his eyes.

“I’d say I’m sorry,” he whispered, “but that was the best sleep I’ve had in a long while.” A flirtatious smile played at the corner of his lips and you returned it.

“Pretty warm under the wings,” you agreed, looking at the expanse of tense skin and complex structure that curled over you both, now flared out along the walls of the cave, and then, as quickly as the butterflies had taken flight in your stomach, they fell like lead weights.“Your wing, it’s not healing.”

You reached out and ran a finger close to the gash. Bucky sucked in air and bit his bottom lip, his top lip curling over his teeth and eyes crinkling in pain.

“Please - don’t touch me there.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No - yes - it’s - just don’t touch me there.” Bucky grit his teeth and shuffled uncomfortably, placing a large hand over his lap and using the other to guide your hand away gently.

“I could try and heal it - if you let me touch. Like I did with your side.”

Bucky looked down at the bandage around his middle as if it was a surprise, perhaps he really didn’t remember. Leaving his wing, you reached out and touched his forehead instead. He felt a little cold, you both did, but not clammy. The fever had broken.

“Can I check your bandage?”

He nodded, sitting up and pulling his ragged shirt up with one hand. Slowly you untied the knot and removed the linen, it was clean on the top layers at least and the bottom ones showed the blood slowing. His healing had kicked in, once the ash had been removed, and the previously angry and infected gash was now a pink cut, knitting together slowly.

“It looks a lot better.”

You sat back on your heels, unable to look away from the cut in his wing. It too had started healing, but it would be a while before it was closed.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, sincerely. “I’ve been out here a while and - I should have sought help sooner.”

“I’m sure it’s not easy, last night you said you didn’t want to let your battalion down.”

Bucky flushed, his nose and cheeks going rosy and you watched as the colour disappeared down his neck and under his collar.

“I understand, it’s hard to be brave sometimes, you want people to trust you and know that you’re doing your best.”

He hummed in agreement again, “and is that why you’re out here?” He raised an eyebrow, lounging back against the cave wall. The movement made his stomach tighten and you watched the muscles flex under his shirt, trying to recall a time when you’d seen any other male like this, when anyone at all had made you feel so hot all over.

“I was sent to hunt a monster.”

“A monster?”

“It’s been stealing vegetables and eggs, a pail of milk as well. Scaring the farmers.” You looked out towards the brightening sky and then back towards him with a grin. “He’s not so scary though.”

Bucky returned your smile, his eyes softening as he reached out to guide your gaze back to his own, “I’m glad I didn’t scare you too much.”

“Only a little.” You laughed.

Despite the gash in Bucky’s side healing over the next few days, he still remained in the cave during the few warm hours the afternoon afforded. His wings lay heavily behind him, the muscles weak and aching from his time spent dragging them around the woods and his injured wing searing with pain when he tried to extend it.

With some help he made it to the cave entrance and watched as you picked your way around the storm swept beach in the distance. You’d been kind and gentle, despite your initial fear, despite the clumsy way he’d tried to get closer to you. And his heart swelled, hoping he could hold you in his arms again when the sun got low.

Each night he'd asked you to stay next to him, and each night you'd agreed. But he was no fool, you pitied him and that would only last for so long until you refused. So he treasured every moment like a precious gift.

It’d been a long time since a female had looked his way, weeks spent dragging himself around the woodland, months spent fighting Hybern on their borders, years spent training in isolation at Windhaven. All to miss this, the feel of the salt wind in his hair and the sun on his healing wings, to miss the feel of a gentle, feminine touch and the way his body responded, singing with happiness at the warmth of your body and scent of your hair. He ached to have you near again, just to know you were safe and cared for. Something in his chest pulled, as if his heart had truly skipped a beat and he closed his eyes against the delicious pain only to open them and see you again, your eyes locked on his, the driftwood you’d collected scattered around your feet, shock on your features.

In a heartbeat you were climbing back towards him, running over the sand and up the dunes, scaling the rocky cliff face with strong, knowing leaps, and then you were in his arms, knocking him backwards with the strength of your embrace.

“Bucky?” His name was half question and half exaltation on your lips and that feeling tugged at him again until his arms closed around your back, a hand on the nape of your neck drawing you closer.

“Kiss me-” it was neither question nor demand, simply a statement of what you both so clearly needed.

His lips were chapped when they brushed against yours, but warm nevertheless, he tasted of the sweet berries you’d found this morning on the edge of the woods and this close, your nose brushing against his, he smelt divine, perfect, the whisky on the bandages and the deep, musky, scent that was all his own.

His uninjured wing curled around your back, folding you in a bubble of warmth where there was only you and Bucky and whatever this new thing was between you. You felt that tug again, the same deep feeling that you’d felt so often, and you pulled back enough to rest your forehead against his own. Bucky didn’t let you remove yourself too far, nudging your nose with his and pressing featherlight kisses to your cheek and jaw.

“Bucky -” you sighed again and this time he answered, as sure and confident as the strong arms that tugged you against his body.

“Yes, my mate?”

#bucky barnes events #Alternate Juniverse #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #Bucky Barnes whump #Bucky Barnes fluff #acotar fanfic #acotar crossover #Illyrian Bucky #Fae!Reader

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purple-babygirl · 5 months

Text

in the far corner of the forest III

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Warnings: hand injury, mentions of blood, wound sutures/stitches, angry behaviour, jealousy, fighting, crying, racism against orcs. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part yet because it might take me a while with part 4 depending on how the very important interview i have on the 17th goes. please send me good wishes on the stars if possible i would really appreciate it. And please enjoy this one and let me know what you thought if you can xx💜💜

“I got you something, little human,” Bucky said, his tone softer than it was that same afternoon as he scratched the back of his head.

He was new to courting, and it wasn’t exactly normal that he was courting his already-wife. Still, he was doing everything possible.

Bucky’s life has all been about fighting and wars. He didn’t do love or courtship. He didn’t do coddling or romancing. But there was a first time for everything and he was trying his best.

“Thank you,” she replied without looking up, pretending to be focused on folding laundry.

She was ignoring him.

Bucky had let his voice get loud a couple of hours ago after he had found her lost in the forest again. Only this time her foot was already messed up and she needed the rest, but she wouldn’t listen.

It hurt him how much pain she was willing to go through if it meant she could get away from him, but he wouldn’t let it show.

Instead, he yelled in frustration as he brought her back to their cottage.

She seemed like she wouldn’t quit, and so he wasn’t going to quit either.

Despite her constant rejection, Bucky refused to give up, his determination fueled by a newfound sense of purpose. He was willing to endure anything, face anything, if it meant earning even a glimmer of acceptance, or even affection, from her.

“You didn’t even see what I got you,” Bucky tried again, hoping she would at least look at him.

When she did, he gave a tiny smile and walked to the cottage door, bringing something inside.

“Here.” He dragged in a shiny wooden chair and placed it before his on their small dining table.

“You bought me a chair,” she said, pretending to be uninterested to hide the warmth that just spread throughout her heart.

“I made you a chair,” Bucky corrected, proudly palming the smooth wood, swiping his tongue over his tusks.

Bucky knew gifts were an essential part of courting and he didn’t like how she had to eat on the bed while he ate alone on the dining table because he only owned one chair.

He knew his days as a loner were long gone and it made his heart swell that he had her to share his house and life with now.

So he got to work and decided to make her her own chair out of an old oak tree. Being a lumberjack who had a woodworking shop had its perks after all.

It was going to be a weekend surprise, but he thought now was better timing after the fight they just had.

“You— you made this? From scratch?” She stood up in surprise, laundry forgotten for now.

“Yes.”

“For me?” She asked, not able to hide her emotions at the kind gesture anymore.

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckled, taking a step back so she could examine the chair.

She sat down and a big smile found its way on her lips when she looked up at Bucky. The chair was comfy and new and hers.

No one has ever gotten her anything, let alone made her something so beautiful. It was so special and a flood of emotions washed over her at the idea that someone had actually thought of her enough to make her a chair. That Bucky had made her a chair.

“Thank you,” she whispered, breaking eye contact so that she wouldn’t tear up.

Bucky only nodded in reply, internally celebrating the win with his heart doing backflips. She liked the chair.

She stood up and closed the small distance between her and the orc, getting on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, “welcome home.”

She quickly put the clean laundry in its place in the closet and went to the kitchen to start dinner, leaving Bucky with the most idiotic smile on his face as he shifted back and forth on his feet like a teenager.

She was punishing him for yelling at her by not making dinner, but that chair and the effort behind it deserved a good meal.

She was cleaning up after dinner later that night when she heard Bucky moving stuff outside. She didn’t pay it much mind; it was his house after all.

“Come outside, little human,” his voice called for her and she tentatively stepped out of the kitchen.

Bucky was standing by the open cottage door, a hopeful smile on his face as he encouragingly nodded for her to come over to him.

She didn’t know what to think, but any chance not to stay cooped up inside the cottage was going to receive a yes from her.

It wasn’t like she was ungrateful. She was certainly thankful she had a roof over her head and warm walls that she could hide inside from the rain and the cold.

But again, her situation wasn’t the most ideal either. If it was up to her, she would have stayed at the orphanage with the rest of the girls because if her fate was drawn for her to be an isolated orc’s wife, she didn’t want to be married.

When she stepped outside, however, marriage and Bucky didn’t seem that bad for a second.

“I thought we could watch the stars now that the sky was clear,” Bucky explained, internally nervous that she might call him ridiculous and refuse to sit with him.

He had waited for a day without rain and laid out a thick blanket on the ground before their cottage, the way lit for her feet by a close by lantern he had put out.

She was enthralled, mouth open and breath stolen. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of joy and disbelief engulfing her.

Bucky has even went as far as bringing out the shawl he had gotten her just in case she felt cold.

It was just like… a date.

Her heart raced and she smiled shyly at the orc, making him smile too as he watched her sit down on the blanket, holding her knees to her as she glanced up at the night sky nervously.

She has never been on a date before in her life, the town’s boys always picking other girls from the orphanage to fool around with, but never her. She was never really anyone’s type.

She slightly shook her head to shut down her insecure thoughts, knowing that none of those player town boys could have ever brought her on a date like this.

“Is the ground too cold?” Bucky asked as he draped her shawl over her shoulders.

She hugged the soft material around her body, smiling gratefully at the orc as she shook her head.

She was too shy to even speak at this point, her mind barely registering the amazingly romantic end to her day that Bucky had brought into existence.

Bucky then laid down on his back, wordlessly urging her to do the same.

She got on her back, eyes mesmerized by the sight of the stars. She has never seen so many before, her view from her room’s window at the orphanage was very limited.

It was different here in the middle of the woods because there were no town lights to take the view away from the sky and it was gorgeous.

“So beautiful,” she whispered with a smile, observing how the stars sparkled above them.

“Yes, the most beautiful,” Bucky whispered back, watching her as she watched the sky.

He wished she could one day look at him the same way she was looking at those stars; the same way he was looking at her.

In his eyes, there was a mix of determination and yearning, reflecting his unwavering commitment to win her heart despite her initial reluctance. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, drinking in every detail as if he couldn’t believe she was really here, right next to him.

She turned her eyes to him, her shy smile widening, “thank you for this, Bucky.”

Gods, the way she said his name was something else.

“You’re welcome, sweet thing.” Bucky smiled back, turning his eyes back to the sky as to not make her uncomfortable under his stare.

As they silently continued stargazing, she felt her heart become lighter. She felt so serene, so content, and she had suddenly forgiven Bucky for raising his voice at her just hours ago, wanting nothing but for this peacefulness to last for as long as possible.

Was it imaginable for marriage to be this good? Could her life finally be turning around?

She couldn’t help but want to see Bucky in a different light in this very moment.

She knew that he was harsh sometimes, but she also knew that she wasn’t making it easy for him either.

Maybe she didn’t choose him and didn’t choose this marriage, but Bucky was trying with real effort and she wasn’t blind to it.

Bucky cared for her when she was sick. He provided for her. He brought her gifts, filled up her half of the closet for her with anything and everything she could need. And he, most importantly, apologized when he was in the wrong, which wasn’t something common for the human males of this kingdom. He also respected her boundaries and hadn’t tried touching her after their first night together.

Could this all be preparation for the purpose of bedding?

No, it couldn’t be. Bucky didn’t need to do this to get her in his bed. He had already had her there and he had willingly let her go. He could have his way with her anytime if he really wanted to.

She wanted to believe that this moment was real so bad. She wanted to believe that Bucky was trying to win her heart.

So she did.

And if Bucky was trying, she was going to start trying too.

She knew just the thing to do actually.

She was going to make Bucky strawberry jam tomorrow to show him how grateful she was.

She might have not much to offer, but she knew she made the most delicious fruit jams and marmalades. It was her specialty at the orphanage. All the other girls always managed to ruin the jams, adding too much or too little sugar, applying too much heat or not enough, eventually producing something inedible. But not her. No, that was one thing she knew with her whole heart that she was good at.

She might’ve not been the prettiest of the girls, but she deserved a good life and she was now determined to build one. With Bucky.

She wasn’t in love with him, she knew that, but she didn’t need love to have a good marriage. Respect and effort were going to be enough.

This marriage could be her chance at building a life worth living.

“Could you bring home some strawberries tomorrow?”

“Oh my gods, this is amazing!” Bucky exclaimed, sliding another spoonful of strawberry jam in his mouth.

“I’m happy you like it,” she replied proudly, a smile plastered on her timid features as she brought a basket of sliced bread to the table.

It felt so good to have someone other than the orphanage girls taste her hand’s making. Receiving Bucky’s praise felt so much different than all the compliments she’s ever received before.

It felt… way better.

“It’s really good, little human.” Bucky was too busy adding jam on the piece of bread in his hand, groaning as he slipped it into his mouth and chewed, “how much of this did you make?”

She laughed, “well, I wanted to start with a small pot because I didn’t know if you liked jam and I didn’t wanna throw out any of it, but we have enough if you finish this and want more!”

“None of this is getting thrown out, little human,” Bucky told her seriously, “I asked because I wanted to take some to Sarah. She has a sweet tooth and she would love this.”

A frown quickly replaced her smile at the mention of another female’s name. She suddenly felt like wanting to take the bowl of jam away from the orc. Hell, she felt like she wanted to get back the jam he had already ate and swallowed.

“Who’s Sarah?” She asked, trying to act nonchalant as she greased her bread with some jam.

“She’s Sam’s sister,” Bucky answered innocently, oblivious to the way she hummed with her jaw clenched.

“And who’s Sam?”

“Oh, right, you don’t know Sam. He’s my best friend; and my partner in the shop. Great guy,” Bucky told her, more interested in the jam than her reaction.

At least Sam was a male.

So just to be clear, Bucky wanted to take the jam she made to his best friend’s sister so she could have a taste and satisfy her sweet tooth? Yeah, she didn’t like that very much.

“Is she, like, married?” She wondered, trying hard not to show her anger.

“Who?” Bucky asked, chewing the bite in his mouth, the foreign question finally gaining his attention.

“Sweet tooth Sarah,” she answered with a somewhat bitter tone that Bucky has never heard before, her thumb swiping under his plump lips before she could stop herself as she harshly wiped away jam from the orc’s face.

The realization as to why her mood had suddenly turned sour made Bucky smile as he hurriedly swallowed his food, “little human,”

She looked up at him with a silent glare.

Despite her efforts to appear unaffected, there was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hint of insecurity betraying her true feelings

“Are you… jealous?”

Bucky’s amused smile made her even angrier as she watched his lips literally twitching.

Jealous? Pfft, of course not! Why would she be jealous!

“No!” She replied aloud defensively, “it was just a question.” She stood up, collecting the plates from the table without asking if Bucky was done eating.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Bucky laughed, holding onto the small bowl of jam.

“Try to save some for your Sarah,” she snapped, snatching her hand from the orc’s as she let him have the bowl.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her surprising reaction, his widening smile still glued to his face.

She frustratingly sped to the kitchen, violently twisting the water tab open as she rolled her sleeves up and started washing the things in the sink.

She had went through all this trouble and used all of these bowls that she now had to wash just for him to want to take her jam to another female to eat.

Who did he think he was?

It was her fault for trying to do something nice in the first place.

He didn’t even answer her question, and that Sarah was probably unmarried. She was probably an orc too. Yeah, it made sense that Bucky would be attracted to someone similar to him. Those two ‘friends’ were probably part of his clan.

The clan he never introduced her to.

How naive was she to think this marriage could actually work?

Bucky was outside still smiling to himself like a fool as he finished the rest of her sweet jam.

She was jealous. She was jealous over him.

He didn’t want to upset her though, so he didn’t say anything, letting her calm down first.

He took the empty bowl to her, setting it in the sink as she avoided looking at him.

She heard him chuckle as he left the kitchen and it made her punch the sponge in her hand inside the bowl, pounding it angrily as she ‘washed’ it clean.

When she was done cleaning the kitchen and brushing her teeth, she stomped out to the bed, getting in and covering herself from head to toe as she gave Bucky her back.

Bucky walked to the lanterns and dimmed their lights before joining her in bed.

He laid on his back, innocently waiting for his good night’s kiss.

A minute passed. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. The kiss didn’t come.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered as not to startle her in the dark, “we had a deal. Where’s my kiss?” He put a hopeful hand on her shoulder, trying to twist her to face him.

“Have Sarah give you your kiss,” she replied with a deadpan tone, masking her fury as she pushed her pillow over her head, shrugging Bucky’s touch off her body.

Bucky stared at the back turned to him with an open mouth as he took his hand away and laid back, disappointment replacing his surprise and filling him up.

It was the first time since she had started feeling well again that she has refused to give him any of his kisses. Yet, respectful of her feelings, Bucky let her.

Maybe making her jealous wasn’t all that fun after all. But he didn’t even mean to make her jealous, he was just talking!

Bucky sighed, turning on his side as well as he fell asleep staring at the hidden back of her head.

The next morning as she put his breakfast on the table, she didn’t sit or eat with him, preferring to scrub the kitchen sink while Bucky ate even though she had just washed it the night before.

She didn’t give him his good morning kiss either; didn’t even speak to him.

She was still mad at him. This was serious for her, he realized.

Bucky might have found it fun last night, but today as she deliberately ignored his existence, he wanted nothing but to make her understand that what was in her head was nothing like the truth.

“Here, I packed jam for your sweet tooth Sarah,” she said harshly as she set a small jar of strawberry jam on the table before him.

“She’s not my—”

“Hope she likes it,” she cut him off, disappearing into the kitchen again.

Bucky sighed aloud, running a hand over his face as he stood up. Grabbing the jam, he took one look at the kitchen entrance before leaving the house for work with a clenched jaw.

She peeked outside when she heard the door shut to see the table empty. Bucky had taken the jar to Sarah.

Oh, that was it.

She could take being given to an orc against her will. She could take never having been chosen or given the chance to choose. She could take not being loved.

But she couldn’t and wouldn’t take being cheated on.

Was that why Bucky had decided to relieve her off her wifely duties in bed? Because he had another female? Was it because he had someone else to keep him warm and wet where he needed to be?

She couldn’t even think about the idea without feeling herself gag.

Why would he ruin her life by bringing her here when he already had that Sarah?!

How could she be so dumb, trying to meet him in the middle like that? Starting a peaceful life with this orc was never going to work!

She tried to pick the lock on the door like she usually would, but the new lock Bucky had put in wouldn’t budge.

She groaned in frustration before hauling herself up and out of the cottage window, running off to gods know where, hoping that luck would be her friend for once and maybe lead her somewhere out of these woods for good this time.

This marriage ends today.

Back at the shop, Bucky was as exasperated as they come as he used his chisel to shape the rough piece of wood in his hand.

After everything he was doing, how could she think that he had someone else? What was he doing wrong? What was missing?

Bucky had only ever wanted her. He thought he was the luckiest orc just because he got to fall asleep next to her every night.

How could he make her see that?

As his mind ran with thoughts and before Bucky could stop it, the chisel slipped and sharply cut the inside of his palm.

“Gods, fuck!” He shouted in pain as blood started flowing from the fresh wound.

Bucky tried to get the chisel from the floor so that no one would step on it, but his hand hurt more when he tried to squeeze his fist around the item. He grabbed it with his metal hand instead, rushing to the supply closet to find a clean towel to wrap around his cut.

He couldn’t continue working like that; couldn’t do anything with his hand.

Sam insisted on sending for his sister after seeing the amount of blood staining the cloth around Bucky’s hand.

Sarah tried to be efficient while messily stitching the wound as best as she could, wrapping it up carefully with gauze before advising Bucky to take a few days off work until his hand was healed. She was no doctor but she did her best for her friend.

Bucky thanked both siblings, giving Sarah the jam jar before leaving to go back home as his friends insisted.

He thought that his day couldn’t get any worse, but then he opened the cottage door to find the place empty and he could all but forget about his injury as he slammed his fist against the wall, crying out in anger. If his wound had started bleeding again, Bucky didn’t care.

“What the hell did you think you were doing out there again?!”

Bucky was enraged. He had found her wandering around the forest, as lost and as stubborn as ever.

“Getting as far away from you as possible.” She crossed her arms, her stare upset and unbending.

“And going where exactly!” He shouted, the idea of her spending the night inside a cold cave clawing at his back.

“Anywhere but here!” She yelled back, her face so hot she could feel sweat forming on her hairline in the middle of winter.

“It’s going to snow soon! Do you wanna get sick again?” Bucky held her by the arm, not too roughly as he didn’t really want to cause any real damage.

Neither of them noticed his blood staining her clothes.

She was too infuriated to notice Bucky’s hand wrapped in gauze. She saw nothing but red.

“I don’t care. I just don’t wanna be with you!” She retorted, snatching her arm out of his hold and pushing at his chest.

Though he didn’t move, her touch too weak to do anything to his colossal body, Bucky was hurt.

“Are you doing all of this just because of a little jealousy? Gods, human females are just—” Bucky shook his head in frustration.

“Jealousy? Hah! You think I’m jealous?” She faked a laugh, “this is not even a real marriage! What’s there for me to be jealous over?!” She continued raising her voice, the mention of her jealousy provoking her further.

Her words hurt Bucky more, the real gash now slashed across his heart.

Not even a real marriage.

Despite everything he was doing and trying, she still didn’t consider their marriage a real marriage.

“Well, do you wanna make it real, little human?” Bucky growled lowly, bringing her closer to his heaving chest by her arm, painting the sleeve of her dress in more of his blood.

Her heart thrummed in her ears at the proximity, her breath trembling as she imagined what the orc could do to her if he only wanted to.

“Let go of me,” she whispered as tears clouded her vision, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear how scared she was in her voice.

Bucky complied, hating how nervous she got in the span of a second.

She ran to the kitchen at once, a hand on her chest as she felt her heart trying to escape her ribcage.

What an audacious orc! He was already with someone else and he dared threaten her with taking her to bed?! Damn, she was so stupid to think they could make something good out of this marriage. So stupid.

Bucky took a seat on the bed, face in his metal hand as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He had almost lost her for the millionth time today.

Was it going to be like this forever? What could he do to make it stop? How could he show her that this life with her was all he ever wanted? That he never wanted anybody else?

“You’re not gonna eat with me?” He asked when he saw her slam one bowl of rice on the table.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied curtly, her eyes on the ground and her jaw tense as she waited for him to get off the bed.

Bucky moved away understandably, taking a seat on the dining table instead as she climbed in bed, burying herself under the covers and hiding away from him.

Bucky knew she wasn’t asleep and he needed to talk to her; or at least see her face.

How was he supposed to have an appetite to eat if she wasn’t on the table with him, her beautiful eyes facing him and her shy smile greeting him every time he would moan over the taste of her delicious food?

“Hey.”

She felt the bed dip next to her as it took on Bucky’s body, his warm hand on her shoulder just like last night.

“Let your sweet tooth Sarah give you a kiss,” she spoke before he could say anything.

“This is not about the kiss. And She’s not my Sarah,” Bucky told her, turning her on her back so she could see his sincere face and hopefully believe him, “she’s not my anything. She’s just a good friend.”

She snorted, not buying it as she turned back to face the wall.

Bucky brought her back to him again, “she’s not married. She’s a widow, who is loyal to the memory of her husband, with two kids that are her whole world.” Bucky answered her earlier question, not wanting to hide anything from her.

“That’s none of my business.” She pretended to be uninterested, giving him the cold shoulder for the third time as she turned away, covering her head with the blanket.

Deep inside, she knew she was relieved to know that Sarah wasn’t interested though.

“It is your business,” Bucky sighed, taking the blanket away from her hands, making her look at him again, “it is your business when you think I’m involved with her.”

“You can do whatever you want.” She shrugged, acting indifferent, making Bucky more frustrated.

He released a loud exhale, “you’re what I want, little human.”

She remained silent, not expecting the orc’s patience or this admittance.

He had told her he wanted her before, but that was on their ‘wedding night’ when he had forced her to get completely naked for him.

This one was different. It sounded different and felt different.

“You don’t have to say all these things. We both know how this marriage came to be a thing.” She tried her best to hold her tears in.

“How did it come to be a thing?” Bucky wanted to see inside her head.

“How?” She sat up, her voice loud yet wobbly with emotions, “they gave you an orphaned girl you didn’t get to see or pick beforehand to make up for making you go to war for them, that’s how!” She felt bad for him, but even more for herself.

So she had read the contracts.

“Who told you I didn’t get to see or pick you?” Bucky swallowed.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’ve seen you before, little human. More than once. And I asked for you to be my wife instead of the noble man’s daughter I was originally offered.” Bucky came clean about the truth behind their arranged marriage.

“You what?!” She became even angrier.

He did this? She was here now because of him?!

“I willingly picked you, little human.”

“Why! Why me! Did you ever stop to think that I might not want this? Or you?!” She practically screamed in anger.

Who was he to decide her future for her? Why didn’t he just take the nobleman’s daughter!

“I did. But you were the only human female who has ever caught my attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off you every time I won a glimpse.” Bucky confessed, his light grey skin gaining a tint at the cheeks as he bared his heart to her, “I knew I couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you, little human.”

Won a glimpse

Couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you

No one has ever used such words to describe an act so normal as looking at her. No one had ever wanted or needed her. Why was her heartbeat speeding up? What was that orc doing to her?

“The minute you entered my cottage, you became my one and only. I don’t want anyone but you.” He promised, squeezing her smaller hand in his, “I will live and die loyal to you, little human.”

She knew he was telling the truth because she had heard the stories. Loyalty was very important to orcs and their mates were for life.

She just stared at Bucky, words stolen from her throat by the way he was looking at her.

No one has ever looked at her like that. Like she was the most beautiful thing they could see. Like she was the only girl in the world. Like she was the only one with any sort of control over this orc’s mind and heart.

“When I suggested gifting Sarah some jam, I was only thinking of doing something nice for a friend.”

She listened with a frown, a little angry again at the mention of the other female’s name.

“If it wasn’t for Sam and Sarah and the boys, I wouldn’t have survived a lot of things. They are my only friends and the only ones I can share nice things with.”

“The only ones?” She pouted, turning her face to the dining table in discontent.

“That’s not what I meant! I just— I’m not used to saying such things, but—” Bucky took a deep breath, squeezing her smaller hand closer, “I was so proud of you being my wife and knowing how to make such delicious things that I wanted the important ones in my life to share it with me…”

Bucky didn’t have to know, but those words were everything to her because when she thought about it, no one has ever been proud to know or have her. No one has ever been proud of her for anything.

But Bucky was, and he wanted to show her off.

When she looked back at the orc, he was staring at the blanket covering her thighs, doubtful to meet her gaze.

Bucky looked… nervous, if you will.

She smiled, eyes tearing up despite herself as she waited for him to look back at her.

When he did, Bucky was instantly smiling back at the sight of her grin. That smile was the whole world for him; it sent him up on cloud nine.

“Have dinner with me?” He asked, his metal thumb wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

She nodded, her smile bigger as she got up and walked to the kitchen to make herself a plate, her heart going a hundred miles per minute as she couldn’t make her smile leave her face.

She wanted to be angrier over the fact that he got to choose and she didn’t, but then again, if she was being honest with herself, she probably could have never dreamt up a husband as good as Bucky was to her if she tried.

She believed that everything happened for a reason and she was too dreamy not to imagine that this whole marriage had to happen exactly the way it did just for her to meet this orc, and maybe, against all odds, have her happy ending with him.

Taking the lid off of the rice pot, she finally saw it: her palm covered in fresh blood.

“Oh gods!” She quickly washed her hand under the water, seeing and feeling no injuries, the realization that it must be Bucky’s blood sent a pang to her chest.

“Bucky?” Tears blurred her vision as she found the orc in the bathroom, trying and failing to remove the wrapping around his right palm with his left one.

She had been forced into this marriage, a union she never agreed to, but as she watched him struggle to tend to his wound, something inside her softened.

How did she not notice that he had come home with a covered up hand?

“Are you okay?!” Bucky asked, troubled to see her crying even when he was the one bleeding above his bathroom sink.

Her heart clenched at the sight; at the care in his cerulean eyes, “what happened to you?”

She sped up to get the first-aid box from him, getting out everything she was going to need as she looked at his bloody palm.

“It’s nothing, sweet thing,” Bucky told her softly, hating the look of anxiety on her precious face even if it was for him; even if it was making him feel all sorts of things, “just a scratch, really. Nothing I can’t handle”.

She tenderly finished unwrapping his hand, gasping as she saw the bleeding gash across it, “this doesn’t look like nothing!” She cried, more tears streaming down her face, “how did you get this?”

“I just hurt myself while working…” Bucky’s metal hand hesitantly pat her shoulder.

“Bucky.” She looked up at him, not believing that that was the only reason because the wound seemed to be loosely stitched and it was obvious that something had happened to make the wound bleed after it had been stitched.

“And I might have punched the wall when I came home and didn’t find you,” Bucky mumbled lowly, not wanting to make her feel bad.

It was just a silly scrape compared to what he had to endure back when he was still fighting wars, really.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into the back of her hand, feeling terrible for all the things she has been putting him through ever since she came here.

“Hey, I’m okay.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped her cheek, his smooth thumb sliding across to wipe her tears.

“No, you’re not.” She shook her head in deep regret, not believing that he was still the one reassuring her in such a state.

“I am, I swear on our marriage.” Bucky wiped under her eyes patiently, caring about nothing but her heart carrying no burdens.

She was speechless because did Bucky just use their marriage to swear? Was it really that important to him that he would swear on it?

She didn’t care that this was an arranged marriage in possibly the most twisted of ways, a woman knew love when she encountered it and that orc’s eyes were showing nothing but pure love.

In the middle of her heart’s longing for a person to care about her, she couldn’t bring herself to step on Bucky’s. Trying to calm her down when he was the one injured and dripping blood? Yeah, that was an orc worth trying, caring and staying for.

“I’m— I’m gonna need to redo the stitches, is that okay?” She sniffled, relaxing herself as she wordlessly promised those concerned blue eyes to give them and this marriage her all.

“Yes.” Bucky smiled when he saw her wipe her tears away and the smile she gave him back made his heart soar.

“It might hurt a little, but just for a short bit, okay?”

Bucky nodded, not believing how delicately she was handling his huge hand with her smaller ones.

He was glad she never had to witness him back then or the actually deadly injuries he had had inflicted on him during wars. He wouldn’t have been able to take that look of fear in her eyes after every fight.

“Who did those sloppy stitches anyway?” She wondered in dissatisfaction with the work and Bucky swallowed hard.

She looked at him knowingly when he remained silent, “it was sweet tooth Sarah, wasn’t it?” She asked with half a smile as she started cautiously taking out the old stitches with the tweezers.

“Yes.” Bucky nodded sheepishly, “but Sam only called for her help because they don’t offer me help in the kingdom’s infirmaries.”

“What?!” Her head snapped up angrily.

They don’t offer him service at the infirmaries?! After all that he had done for this kingdom?

“I’m no longer a soldier of their own so…” Bucky shrugged with a sad smile.

Her expression went from angry to devastated to angry again in less than a second, “this is gonna sting a little.” She warned as she disposed of the old sutures in the bin.

“Don’t be upset, little human.”

She looked up, not knowing what to say or how to apologize to the orc about the terrible treatment of this kingdom’s people, but his smile told her that everything was going to be all right. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Her eyes swayed between his palm and his face as she started disinfecting the wound with the piece of sterilized cotton in her hand.

Bucky hissed and winced, making her stop at once.

“I’m sorry! I’m so so—”

“Ha, fooled ya! It’s not that bad,” Bucky laughed, amused at her reaction, instantly earning himself a slap on his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Hey, you can’t do that to the injured!” Bucky whined playfully.

“Can’t I?” She teased, biting her smile back.

He smiled wider because she could.

Oh, she could do anything to him and he would take it with a smile and thank her for it.

For a heartbeat, the world around Bucky seemed to blur as he focused solely on her, engraving every detail of her smile into his memory. It was a sight he never wanted to forget, a ray of light in the darkness that had clouded his years for so long.

Everything was going to be okay, Bucky thought as he brought her to his chest with his metal arm, praying to the gods she wouldn’t pull away.

“I’m— I’m almost done,” she muttered coyly, trying to make him let her go so she could finish tending to his injury.

But then she felt it: her husband’s tusks were pressing gently on her scalp as Bucky kissed her hair.

Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of surprise and tenderness washing over her as she felt herself wanting to stay longer inside his embrace.

“Thank you, little human,” he whispered lovingly.

As she tilted her head slightly to meet Bucky’s captivating eyes, she found herself lost in the depths of their oceans, catching a vulnerability she hadn't noticed before.

She looked deeper and she realized that beneath his rugged exterior lied a heart capable of great tenderness, a heart that might just beat for her and her alone.

She beamed again as she softly replied, “you’re welcome, Bucky.”

Yeah, they were going to be okay.

Part IV

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bossbtch1 · 8 months

Text

Cat and Mouse part 2 (end)

Part 1, Part 2

Summary : Having left Bucky and the past behind, you managed to sold the artifact and anonymously return the stolen case. Seeking solace, you settled in a quaint cottage. However, your peaceful life is disrupted when a familiar face from your past, appeared on your doorstep. Run, hide, repeat. But will you outrun your hunter?

Pairings : Bucky Barnes x f!reader as Black Cat

TW : Smut, NSFW, 18+ ONLY

Tags : Fluff, Chase, Hunter & Prey, Stalking, Suspense, Banter, Flirting, Playful!Bucky, Flirty!Bucky, Sexual Tension, Dirty Talk, Begging, Fingering, Oral f receiving, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasm, Creampie

Words : 11,1k

A/N : The part y'all have been waiting for. Enjoy!

My Masterlist

After that day, you needed to get out of the city, Bucky would be pissed about you getting away again. But you also wanted to keep yourself busy, and you had the perfect distraction. You sold the artifact for a fortune and lived a comfortable and safe life, what the buyer wanted with the artifact was none of your business. You also returned the vibranium you stole to the Avengers, anonymously of course.

You found the place by chance, a small cottage in the countryside. It was exactly what you needed, peace and quiet. You didn't need to worry about being followed, no one knew where you were.

You settled into a routine, the days passing quickly. You spent your time painting, the sun shining through the windows. It was the perfect place to hide, and you were going to enjoy it. The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. You kept yourself busy, enjoying the peace and quiet. But you couldn't help but miss the excitement of the city, and the thrill of the chase.

One day, as you were reading a book, you heard a noise coming from outside. You went to investigate, and there was no one there. You were sure that someone was there, though, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

You didn't know if it was an animal or a human, but you knew that something was out there. You grabbed your gun, the metal cool against your palm. You stepped outside, the night air crisp and cool.

The silence was broken by a twig snapping, and you whirled around, your gun pointed at the darkness. You saw a shadow move, and you fired a warning shot. "Who's there?," you called out, your voice echoing through the trees.

There was no answer, only silence.

You walked further into the woods, the leaves crunching beneath your feet. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears, the blood rushing through your veins.

Suddenly, you felt something brush against your leg. You looked down, and a pair of glowing eyes stared back at you. The cat meowed and ran off into the shadows, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You were sure that someone had been watching you, but now, it seemed like you were just being paranoid. You made your way back to the cottage, the gun still clutched in your hand.

You decided to spend the rest of the night inside, with the doors and windows locked. You sat in front of the fireplace, the flames casting eerie shadows across the room. You didn't sleep that night, the feeling of being watched lingering.

You were going to have to be more careful, the feeling of being watched was a new one. Maybe it was the isolation getting to you, maybe it was the paranoia. Either way, you had a feeling that things were about to get interesting.

In the morning, you packed a bag, your gun tucked away. You weren't sure what was going on, but you weren't about to take any chances. As you finished packing, you hurried outside, hoping to make it to the town before dark.

Then as you opened your door, you saw Bucky. His hair was longer, and he was wearing a hoodie and jeans, but you would recognize him anywhere. He was leaning against the hood of your door, his arms crossed over his chest. It was like he had been waiting for you.

"Hello, Y/N," he said, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You tried to stay calm, your mind racing. You couldn't believe that he had found you, and you were suddenly aware of how close he was. You didn't move, your hand tightening around the doorknob.

He eyes your bags, he smirked, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Going somewhere?"

You were so shocked to see him, that you couldn't find the words to speak. He looked even more handsome than you remembered, his hair slicked back, and a few days' stubble on his chin.

You smiled trying to hide the fact that your heart was pounding in your chest. "Bucky. What a coincidence, I was about to go visit you. You know, for our reunion." you lied, not wanting him to know how truly scared you were.

Bucky gave you a knowing look. "Sure you were."

Your face fell as he pushed past you, entering your house. You followed him, closing the door behind you. "Bucky, what are you doing here?"

He ignored you, his gaze roaming over the cottage. You watched as his eyes took in every detail, and you hoped he wouldn't notice the small bag by the door.

"You know, this is a really nice place," he said, his fingers brushing over a wooden table. "You did a good job picking it."

"I've worked hard on it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky turned to you, his eyes meeting yours. "It shows."

You shifted nervously, not sure what to say. He walked closer to you, his body inches from yours. You could feel his breath on your face, and you struggled to control your breathing.

"I've missed you, Y/N," he said, his voice husky. "After that little stunt you pulled, I gotta say I'm impressed."

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry. You could feel your heart beating fast, and you wanted nothing more than to run. But you knew that he wouldn't let you, and the thought made your stomach turn, in a good and bad way but more good than bad somehow.

You shrugged, "What can I say? I had the element of surprise."

He nodded, his gaze falling on you. "Oh you do. But I know that's not all there was to it."

You felt his hands on your waist, and you shivered. Your eyes met his, and you saw the desire there, the raw need. You pried his hands from you as you pulled away from him and asked "How did you find me?"

He shrugged, "It wasn't easy. You really know how to hide your tracks, but I've always been good at finding people. You're not the only one who's good at being a ghost."

You didn't respond, your mind racing. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew he was waiting for an answer. You didn't know what to say, so you decided to play along.

"So what do you want, Bucky? Why are you here?"

"I said I missed you, doll." He sat on the sofa, patting the seat beside him. "Now, why don't you sit down, and we can talk about it."

You didn't follow his command, instead choosing to stand a safe distance away from him. He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips curling into a smile.

"Why don't you tell me the real reason you're here?," you said, a slight edge to your voice.

He leaned back, his blue eyes never leaving yours. "Like I said, I missed you. I was worried about you, so I came to check on you.”

Rolling your eyes, patience wearing thin, you retorted, "Stop lying, Bucky. I highly doubt you trekked all the way here just for a casual chat," you challenged, crossing your arms.

He stood up, his hands in his pockets. "Alright, you got me. I want to play a game with you."

You laughed, shaking your head. "A game? You came all the way out here just to play a game? Really, Bucky?"

"Weren't you the one who said life is just a game and we're all players in it?," he said, walking toward you.

You were taken aback, surprised that he remembered. "I did," you said, taking a step back.

"So, are you ready to play?"

You took another step back, your heart racing. "What kind of game?"

He stepped closer, his body inches from yours. "It's the game you love playing the most, cat and mouse.”

You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you. "What to do? I’ve put that behind me. As you can see.” You walked toward your new place, “I’m living a simple, safe, and normal life."

Bucky shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. "Are you, Y/N? I'm not so sure." he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

You could feel his gaze on you, and you shifted uncomfortably. "I am."

Bucky chuckled, “You’re fooling yourself, sweetheart.” He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving yours. “Beside, I know you love a good chase, and I'm the best there is."

"Bucky, I'm done running," you said, the truth of your words hitting you hard.

Bucky shook his head, his lips curved in a mischievous grin. "But we haven't even started yet, doll. The fun hasn´t begun yet."

You couldn't deny that Bucky was right, you did love the thrill of the chase, and the idea of him chasing you sent a shiver down your spine. You bit your lip, trying to think of a way out of this. But you knew it was no use, he had trapped you. “How does this so-called game work?”

"It's as straightforward as it gets. I chase, you run. If I catch you, I win. If you manage to stay away from me, congratulations, you win."

"What are the rules?" you asked, already suspecting the answer.

"No rules, sweetheart. Just a good old-fashioned chase. No tricks, no traps, just a straight chase.”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his confident demeanor. "And what's the prize for the winner?"

Bucky's smirk deepened. "Ah, that's the fun part. If you win, we go our separate ways, never to cross paths again. Or....." his voice trailed off, his eyes burning with desire.

You were frozen, his words sending shivers down your spine. You knew that you shouldn't have gotten involved with him, but you couldn't help yourself. He was charming, and sexy, and everything you'd ever wanted in a man.

"Or?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Or," he leaned forward, his breath hot against your skin, "you get to have your wicked way with me."

Your heart skipped a beat, your mind racing. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. You tried to hide your excitement hearing that, you scoffed, trying to play it cool. "What? Like tie you up and have my way with you?"

Bucky nodded, his lips curved in a smirk. "If that's what you want, doll. Whatever gets you off."

You blushed, not expected such a candid answer. He sure did change, what to say? He was more playful now? You wondered what happened with him.

He smiled, "You can even blindfold me, so I can't see what's coming. That's how confident I am."

"You're bluffing."

"Try me." He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "But I promise, whatever you do to me, I'll love it."

"This is stupid, Bucky."

"Maybe, but I know you want to."

You crossed your arms, adopting a defiant stance. "And what makes you so sure?"

Bucky grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "The way you look at me, the way you bite your lip when I get close. It's written all over your face, sweetheart."

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "You're reading too much into things."

"Am I now?" He stepped back, feigning innocence. "Guess we'll find out during our little game. You can try to run, but you won't be able to escape the truth."

You scoffed, "This whole thing is ridiculous. Why did you even come here?"

Bucky's demeanor shifted, his expression turning sincere. "Because I missed you, Y/N. And maybe, just maybe, I missed the chase too."

Your eyebrows shot up, skeptical. "You missed the chase?"

He nodded. "There's an excitement to it, a thrill that I can't find anywhere else. Plus, chasing you is always interesting."

You could feel your resolve crumbling, your need for him overtaking your sense. You wanted to say yes but there must be a catch, there had to be, and he had already admitted that it was a game.

"What's the catch, Buck? There's got to be a catch."

"No catch, sweetheart."

You raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. He seemed like the type who would play by his own rules, take what he wanted. Perhaps, this was his strategy – make you believe there were no strings attached, only to surprise you later. "And if you win?" you asked, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

He leaned in, his voice a low whisper. "If I win, I get to keep you."

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you could feel your cheeks burning. "What do you mean by 'keep me'?"

He gave you a wolfish grin. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not even half of it."

You were stunned by his response, your mind racing. You knew that if he caught you, you'd never be able to escape him, and a part of you was excited by the idea. But the rational side of you knew it was a bad idea, and you had worked too hard to let it all go to waste.

You stepped closer to him, your body inches from his. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you could smell his intoxicating scent. "That's a bit unfair, the win and the loss," you replied, a slight smile on your face.

He raised an eyebrow, "Are you worried I'll catch you?"

You couldn't help but chuckle, his confidence was admirable. "No, I'm just saying it's not a fair reward.”

"Maybe. But what's life without a little risk?" He smiled, "Besides, I know you love a challenge."

You bit your lip, thinking. The thought of spending time with Bucky was exciting, and the idea of him chasing you was equally thrilling.

But was the risk worth it?

You knew that if you lost, you'd be stuck with him. And the thought of being at his mercy made your heart race.

You had to admit, the possibility of losing, was also a turn on. The thought of him catching you and taking his reward, sent a shiver down your spine.

You smiled, "Fine. I'll play."

He smiled, "I'm glad, I wouldn't want you to lose confidence in your abilities."

"Confidence isn't an issue, I know how good I am," you retorted, a smirk on your lips.

"Well, let's put that to the test, shall we?", he said, glancing at his watch.

You knew that there was no point in arguing with him, and you were secretly excited by the challenge. "What if I choose the first option? That we’re going to separate our own way?”

"If that's what you want, sweetheart." He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But I know that's not the case."

"Oh, really? How would you know?," you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

"Because you want it just as bad as I do. You're just afraid of losing control."

His words struck a nerve, and you couldn't deny the truth in them. Fear of losing control had always been your Achilles' heel. Swallowing your pride, you retorted, "Don't flatter yourself."

Bucky stepped closer, the air charged with anticipation. "I've seen the fire in your eyes, doll. You thrive on the chaos, the unpredictability. Deep down, you want to lose control and let go."

Your facade wavered, a momentary vulnerability breaking through. "Maybe you don't know me as well as you think."

Bucky's gaze held an intensity that made your heart race. "Challenge accepted, sweetheart. Let the game begin."

You squared your shoulders, accepting the challenge laid out by him. "Fine. Let's see what you've got."

"Good. Now, I'll give you a ten-minute head start. Use it wisely," Bucky offered.

You were surprised that he was willing to give you a head start, and you wondered if it was a trick. But you knew that it didn't matter, either way, the result would be the same. You had no doubt that he would catch you.

"Ready," he asked, his blue eyes boring into yours. "Can't wait to claim my prize."

Your laughter echoed through the room. "Sure, but you should know, I don't lose."

His grin was equal parts confident and mischievous. "Neither do I, sweetheart. Neither do I."

"Now, get going, sweetheart. And try to make this fun for me, won't you?"

"Only if you do the same for me," you teased, before running out the door, the thrill of the chase sending a shiver down your spine.

"Oh I will, sweetheart. Don't you worry about that." As he watched you ran off into the woods, he was already planning on how to claim his prize. As much as the chase excited him, Bucky wasn't going to rush things. He was going to savor every moment of this savor every moment of this game.

You didn't have much of a head start, but you were determined to make the most of it. You knew that Bucky was a formidable opponent, and that you had to use your wits to evade him. You also knew that he was tracking you, which made it even more challenging. You quickly made your way through the woods, staying low and quiet. You knew the woods in the back of your head, and you used that knowledge to your advantage.

You ducked behind a large tree, your breathing heavy. You knew that he would catch up soon, and you needed a plan. You knew that if he caught you, you would be his, and that thought made your stomach flutter. You had 10 minutes head start and you were going to make the most of it.

The wind rustled the leaves, and the sky was darkening. You knew you had to move fast if you wanted to stay ahead. Suddenly, a twig snapped behind you. You turned around, but there was no one there. But you knew he was close, and that sent a thrill down your spine.

You hurried through the woods, careful not to make any noise. You could feel his presence, and you knew that he was closing in on you. You didn't know if he was doing it on purpose, but you didn't care. You were enjoying the game, and you were determined to win. You then heard his voice not far from you.

His taunting voice echoed nearby, "You can run, but you can't hide," accompanied by the teasing refrain, "Come out, come out wherever you are." The continuous taunts grated on your nerves, bordering on annoyance.

You continued to evade him, keeping out of sight. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. It had been a while since you'd felt this alive, and you were relishing the feeling.

It had only been 20 minutes, and you were already feeling the exhaustion, but you didn't let that stop you. You kept moving, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. But you knew that it was only a matter of time before he caught up to you, and the thought both excited and scared you.

The sky was growing darker, and the wind was picking up. You could feel the rain threatening to fall, and you knew that the conditions would make it easier for you to hide, the sound and smell of the rain would help conceal your location. You took a deep breath and kept moving. You were determined to win, and nothing was going to stop you. But it would be easier for him to track your tracks since footprints harder to disguise.

The air was cold, and the sky was dark, but you could feel his presence getting closer. You could feel his hunger, and you knew that he wouldn't stop until he caught you. Suddenly you felt a hand covering your mouth, and you turned around to see his piercing blue eyes. You were frozen in place, and your heart was pounding.

"You're losing your touch, Y/N." he said, a grin on his face. "Don't tell me the infamous black cat is getting sloppy," he teased, his hands moving down to your hips.

You felt a mixture of fear and excitement as his hands moved across your body. You were afraid of what would happen next, but you couldn't deny that you wanted him.

"Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?," he asked, his voice a low whisper.

Growing increasingly annoyed, you swatted his hands away. "So what now? You caught me, just get it over with already."

His grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We still have 30 minutes left. I'm feeling generous, so I'll let you off the hook this time. Consider it a free pass. But if I catch you again, I won't be so nice."

You were surprised by his offer, and you didn't know what to do. Part of you wanted him to catch you, but the other part was afraid.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get going."

With a nod, you turned around, ready to put some distance between you. But, just as you began to walk away, he seized your arm. "Oh, and Y/N? Run faster and hide better," his voice dropped to a low growl.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, and just before releasing your arm, you felt his warm breath against your neck. As he vanished into the woods, you found yourself rooted in place, unsure of how to proceed.

You knew that he was testing you, seeing how far you would go. You knew that he was pushing your boundaries, and a part of you liked it. A part of you wanted to give in and surrender to him, but another part of you was afraid.

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. You couldn't let him get the best of you, and you couldn't let him win. Did you really losing your touch? You used to be great at this, even spiderman couldn't find you when he tried. Maybe Bucky was right, maybe you had lost your edge. But that didn't mean you were going to let him win.

You took a deep breath and started running. You were determined to beat him, and nothing was going to stop you. As you ran through the woods, you could feel him getting closer. You didn't know how, but he always managed to find you. You had tried everything, and nothing was working.

You had tried to mask your tracks, you had used all your skills, and nothing was working. You were beginning to think that maybe you had met your match, and that maybe he was just better than you.

You ducked behind a tree, trying to catch your breath. The rain had started to fall, and the air was getting colder. You could feel the exhaustion setting in, but you couldn't give up. You looked at your watch, you had 10 minutes left before the game was over, and you knew that if he caught you again, he wouldn't be so nice.

"Come on, Y/N. You're better than this," you said, trying to motivate yourself.

But deep down, you knew that you had reached the end of your rope. You were exhausted, and you were running out of time. You stayed hidden and prayed that he wouldn't find you after all you had 3 minutes left and then you would win.

1 minute left.

You could feel the rain soaking through your clothes, and you could hear the thunder rumbling in the distance. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you were beginning to think that maybe losing wouldn't be so bad. But winning would still feel better, and so you held onto hope.

30 seconds left.

You could hear the wind howling through the trees, and the rain was coming down harder now. Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck.

"Gotcha," he whispered, marking the end of the game, a victorious smile playing on his lips.

The realization dawned upon you, you had lost.

"So, what do you say, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. "Ready to be mine?"

Your heart was racing, and your mind was spinning. You had never felt like this before, and you knew that if you surrendered, there would be no going back.

"You wish." Your voice tried to remaind calm.

"Oh, come on, Y/N. Don't be silly. We both know you want this. You were curious about me and now you will have your answer."

You were starting to feel frustrated. He was right, you had been curious about him and his flirting was something you had been enjoying lately, even if you'd never admit it. But you weren't ready to let him know that yet. "Yeah, right. In your dreams."

"Actually, yeah. In my dreams. But I know that in yours, too. That's why you accepted to play this game with me. Because you knew that, one way or another, you'd get what you want. You're just playing hard to get because you like being the center of attention."

"Wow, Bucky, that was deep." You couldn't hide your amusement. "Are you sure you haven't been practicing this speech with your mirror?"

"No, doll. I just know how you work. So, what do you say? Are you ready to surrender and become mine?"

You looked up at him and saw that his blue eyes were filled with desire. You felt your heart skip a beat as you considered his offer. "And why would I agree with that?," you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

"Because you have a weakness for dangerous men, and we both know that I'm the most dangerous man you've ever met," he replied.

You chuckled, breaking the tension. "You really think you're the most dangerous man I've ever met? That's quite the ego you've got there, Barnes."

He raised an eyebrow, unyielding. "Ego or not, you can't deny there's something magnetic between us. It's like we're two sides of the same coin, Y/N."

You feigned contemplation, tapping your chin. "Two sides of a coin, huh? More like oil and water. We don't exactly mix, Barnes."

Bucky took a step closer, his proximity making your heart race. "Maybe that's what makes it interesting. The clash, the unpredictability. Tell me, doll, have you ever been with someone who keeps you on your toes?"

You paused, considering his words. "Maybe, maybe not. What's your point?"

His eyes locked onto yours, a playful glint dancing in them. "My point is, surrendering to me might just be the most thrilling thing you've ever done. No more games, no more hiding. Just us."

You rolled your eyes, trying to mask the effect his words had on you. "Nice try, Barnes. But I don't surrender easily."

"You should be," he said, taking a step closer. "Besides, I can give you everything you want. I can show you pleasure you've never known before. I can make you scream my name and beg for more."

His words were sending shivers down your spine and making your core ache with need.

"You're such a cocky bastard," you said, trying to mask your arousal.

"But you love it," he replied. "Admit it. You're attracted to me. You've been thinking about me for a long time. And you can't wait to see what it would be like to be mine."

You knew he was right, but you couldn't let him win. You couldn't let him have the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten under your skin.

"You're just talking big because you know I'll never give in," you said, trying to regain the upper hand. "You're nothing but a tease."

"Oh, sweetheart, that's where you're wrong. I'm not a tease. I'm a man of my word. And when I say I'll make you scream my name and beg for more, I mean it."

You were losing the battle, and you knew it. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as he continued his seduction. You were tempted to give in, to let him take control and show you what he was capable of.

The rain intensified, drenching both of you as you stood there, caught in a moment of tension. Bucky's gaze bore into yours, and you could sense the unspoken words hanging in the air. The seductive dance between you two seemed to have no end in sight. He knew you wouldn't answer him right now, he changed the subject, "It's freezing out here, sweetheart. Let's go to a warmer place and continue this conversation, shall we?"

"I'm not cold." You lied.

"Sure you are, doll. Just like I am," he replied. His hand extended toward you, a silent invitation. "Come on, let's go inside and get out of these wet clothes. I'll warm you up, I promise."

You hesitated taking his hand for a moment but you decided to take his offer. You could feel his hot gaze on your body, and the thought of getting naked in front of him made you blush. You had never felt so vulnerable before, and yet so safe.

He led the way back to your cottage and the whole way back, you could feel the tension between the two of you. "You got me all wet, jerk."

"Not yet, but I'm planning to, sweetheart."

You couldn't help but laugh. "That was cheesy, even for you, Bucky."

"I don't care," he replied. "I have you where I want you. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide."

You didn't know if it was the adrenaline from the chase or the tension between the two of you, but you were feeling bold. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," you replied, "I'm a quick learner, and I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"So, quick learner, what other tricks do you have up those sleeves?" he teased, playfully squeezed your hand.

You shot him a coy smile. "Oh, Bucky, a magician never reveals her secrets."

A gleam in his eyes. "I like a challenge. Besides, you're not the only one with tricks up your sleeve." His eyes were sparkling with mischief, and you couldn't help but be drawn in. You could feel his fingers close around yours, and a sense of warmth and comfort spread through you.

He led the way back to your cottage and the whole way back, you could feel the tension between the two of you. Your heart was racing, and your palms were sweaty. You didn't know what would happen once you got back, but you were ready for anything.

When you arrived at your home, he walked in first. You followed, closing the door behind you. He took off his soaked coat and you did the same.

Bucky's playful tone sliced through the silence. "So, where were we? Oh, right. You were just about to tell me that you're mine, sweetheart," he said with a teasing glint in his eyes.

"I was just about to tell you that you can take your wet and cold ass and get the fuck out of my house," you shot back, a hint of sarcasm coloring your words.

He raised an eyebrow, feigning hurt. "Wow, you're so mean, sweetheart. It's pouring outside, and I'm soaked, and you're still sending me away?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, "What can I say? I'm a cold and heartless woman."

"You're anything but that, doll," he said, his blue eyes gazing into yours. "And you know it."

You could feel yourself blushing under his intense stare. "Yeah, well, you don't know me," you said.

"Maybe not, but I'd like to," he replied.

You swallowed hard, his words sending a thrill through you. You knew that you shouldn't want him, but you couldn't help yourself. He was everything you had ever dreamed of, and he was standing right in front of you.

He glanced toward the fridge, and you arched an eyebrow at his audacity.

"I didn't think I said to make yourself at home," you quipped, folding your arms across your chest.

He smirked, rummaging through the fridge. "Well, considering I won the game, I think it's only fair I do as I please."

"You can't just show up here, make me play a game, and then take over my house. It doesn't work like that," you replied, feeling annoyed.

"I just did" he said, pulling out a bottle of water. "Why don't you go take a shower while I prepare us something to eat?"

"Excuse me?"

"Go, take a shower," he repeated. "You're soaking wet and covered in mud. You'll catch a cold if you don't warm up."

"And what makes you think I want you in my kitchen?," you asked.

"Because I'm the winner, and I can do whatever I want," he said, his voice low and full of desire.

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized what he was implying. You knew it was a bad idea, but you couldn't resist. You were soaking wet, and the thought of a hot shower was too tempting to pass up.

"Fine," you sighed. "But if you steal or burn my house down, I'll kick your ass."

"I'd like to see you try," he said, grinning.

You rolled your eyes and turned to go upstairs, "Just don't touch anything."

"You're so mean, sweetheart," he called after you.

You ignored him, making your way up the stairs and to the bathroom. You closed the door and leaned against it, trying to catch your breath.

This was insane. Bucky was in your house, in your kitchen, cooking. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to go back to his house and leave you alone. But instead, he was here, and you couldn't deny that you were happy about it.

As you began to undress, the realization struck that Bucky was also drenched from the rain. A sudden impulse led you to search for some old shirts, sweats, and boxers you rarely wore, and you grabbed them before heading downstairs.

"Here," you said, handing him the clothes, a hint of tension in your voice.

"Well, aren't you the little helper," he teased, taking the clothes from you with a playful smirk.

"They're old, but they should fit," you replied, brushing off his comment with a nonchalant demeanor.

You were about to take off your clothes when you remembered that he was also soaking wet from the rain. You searched for some loose shirt, sweats, and boxers that you rarely wear and brought it downstairs.

"Thank you," he said, giving you a soft smile. "Didn't know you care."

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "I don't. They're just collecting dust in my closet. It's not a big deal."

He chuckled, "If you say so, sweetheart."

A glare shot in his direction, accompanied by a stern, "Stop calling me that."

"Why? It's cute," he persisted.

"I'm not cute," you maintained.

"You are," he insisted, grinning. "In fact, I'd even say you're adorable."

"Stop it," you demanded, feeling your cheeks warm.

"But it's true," he continued, stepping closer.

You shook your head, an involuntary smile breaking through. "You're ridiculous."

"Irresistible, you mean," he corrected, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

Your cheeks now flushed, you urged, "Shut up and change before the food burns," you said, turning to walk away, running away from his teasing.

You made your way to your room and heading toward the bathroom. You quickly stripped off your clothes and climbed into the shower. The hot water felt amazing on your cold, wet skin, and you couldn't help but moan as the steam filled the room.

As you washed the dirt and grime from the game off your body, you couldn't stop thinking about Bucky. You wondered what he was doing downstairs. Was he really making dinner? What did he have planned? What was he planning next after that? Will he stay? Will he fuck you?

Your thoughts were racing, and you couldn't stop them. You tried to calm yourself down, but the more you thought about him, the more worked up you got. You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You needed to focus on something else. You grabbed your loofah and scrubbed your body, washing away the tension and the anxiety.

After a few minutes, you turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. You wrapped yourself in a towel and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were bright. You were quite annoyed that you couldn't figure him out. He was unpredictable and dangerous, but also charming and sexy. He was a mystery, and you were determined to solve it.

"Stop thinking about him, Y/N," you muttered to yourself. "Just get dressed and go downstairs. You're stronger than this. You can handle him."

With renewed determination, you quickly dried yourself off and put on some clothes. You were still nervous, but you were ready to face him. You left the bathroom and made your way down the stairs, the smell of something delicious wafting through the air.

"You didn't burn down my house, did you?" you called out.

"Not yet," he replied.

You entered the kitchen and saw him stirring something on the stove. "What are you cooking?" you asked, curious.

"Something special," he replied, turning to face you.

"Wow, that smells amazing," you complimented, attempting to divert your attention from the effect he had on you.

"Thank you," he replied, grinning. "Now why don't you take a seat, and I'll bring you a plate."

Obliging, you settled at the kitchen table, your eyes following his movements as he gracefully placed two plates filled with an unfamiliar dish before you.

"What is this?" you inquired, eyeing the plate with intrigue.

"Stew," he replied, taking a seat across from you. "It's a recipe from my mother. I hope you like it."

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words. He had cooked for you? You thought he would be making sandwich or something simple but this looked like a heartwarming dish. You couldn't remember the last time someone had cooked for you.

"Thank you," you said, sitting down at the table.

"Don't thank me yet," he said. "You haven't tasted it."

"Well, let's see how it is," you replied, picking up your fork.

You took a bite and your eyes widened. It was delicious. You couldn't believe how good it was.

"Wow," you said. "This is amazing.”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips. "She would be happy to know someone else likes it."

"Who taught you how to cook?”

"My mother," he replied, a nostalgic expression casting a temporary shadow over his face. "She was the best cook in the village. Everyone loved her food."

"She sounds amazing," you said, feeling a pang of sadness for him.

"She was," he said.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you teased, “So, is this part of the 'claiming my prize' package? A home-cooked meal and everything?”

He chuckled, a rare and hearty sound that echoed through the room. “Of course, expect more of it in the future.”

The two of you ate in silence, the air thick with tension. You didn't know what to say, or how to feel. Part of you was nervous, and part of you was excited. You had never felt like this before, and it was a strange feeling. You also had to be on guard, you never know what could happen when he's around.

After you had both finished eating, you cleared the table and began to wash the dishes. He helped, drying them and putting them away. You couldn't help but notice how easy it was to work together. It was like you had known each other for years, not just a few days.

You were thinking maybe it was time he claimed his prize or at least talked about it. But instead he went to the living room and started a fire.

"You know how to play chess, Y/N?" he asked, taking out a chess set from his backpack.

"I do," you replied, curious. "But why the sudden interest in chess?"

"Well, I thought since you had such an fun day, why don't we add a little excitement to the night?" he suggested.

"It hasn't exactly been a walk in the park, Bucky," you reminded him.

"Sure it was. We played a game, we ran through the rain, and we shared a nice dinner. Sounds like a pretty fun day to me," he replied.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile appeared on your face. "You’re impossible," you said.

"And yet, here we are," he said, gesturing to the chess board. "So, what do you say, sweetheart? Up for a game?"

"Fine," you sighed, giving in and joining him.

He nodded and placed the board on the coffee table, his hands moving swiftly and confidently. "I'll let you choose the color," he said.

"Black," you replied, without hesitation.

He grinned and nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Very well," he said.

He sat down across from you, a smirk on his face. He set up the pieces, and the game began. You were surprised by how well he played, he was giving you a run for your money. "You're pretty good," you said, studying the board.

"I am," he replied, not looking up.

"Where did you learn to play?"

"In the army," he replied. "There wasn't much else to do, and the guys liked playing chess."

"You were in the army?"

"I was," he replied. "A Sergeant and World War 2 veteran. Fought alongside with Steve Rogers.”

Your eyes widened at the revelation. "Really? I didn’t know that.”

"Someone clearly didn't do their homework," he smirked, moving his chess piece with a playful confidence.

"I was busy doing other things," you said, smirking in return.

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" he asked, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Like thinking of ways to kill you," you retorded.

He chuckled, "You're a feisty one, aren't you?"

"And you're an asshole," you replied, rolling your eyes.

"Guilty as charged," he replied, shrugging with an amused grin.

You spent the next few hours talking and playing, the atmosphere growing more and more intimate as the night went on. You were both competitive, and you didn't want to give in to him.

But eventually, you won the game.

"Damn," he said, grinning. "That was a good game."

You leaned back in your chair, "I told you, Bucky, I don't lose."

He chuckled, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're full of surprises, sweetheart. I like that." He nodded, standing up. "Thank you for the game," he said, his blue eyes gazing into yours.

"My pleasure," you replied, standing up as well.

You were standing close to him, your bodies almost touching. The air was electric, and you couldn't help but notice how attractive he was. His blue eyes were mesmerizing, and his body was toned and muscular.

As the intensity reached its peak, it felt like a kiss was imminent, but he unexpectedly pulled away, breaking the connection. "It’s getting late, I think we should call it a night," he suggested, his voice low and resonant.

Caught off guard, you questioned, "Wait, what?"

"Yeah. We can continue this tomorrow. It's been a long day, and I'm tired,"

You had enough, "Just cut to the chase, Bucky. Stop messing with my head. Either take your prize, or leave."

"Who says I won't?" He asked, his voice low.

"The fact that you've been here all night and haven't done anything is proof enough," you said, getting annoyed. You didn't know why you were being like this, maybe it was because he made you feel things you didn't understand.

He stepped closer, "Are you that eager for me, sweetheart? Do you want me to take you right now?"

You swallowed, feeling nervous, "No. I don't want anything to do with you."

"You sure?" He asked, walking around the couch. "Because you seem very eager. Why are you so eager, Y/N? What do you want me to do to you?"

"I don't want anything," you insisted.

"I don't believe that," he said, his voice soft. "I think you want me to touch you."

He was standing in front of you now, and he put his hands on your shoulders, his touch feather-light. You felt yourself tremble.

"I think you want me to make you mine, Y/N," he continued, his voice barely a whisper.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moan that was threatening to escape. "Please, get over yourself. I don't want you, Bucky."

He ignored your request, his hands traveling down your arms. "I think you want me to make love to you, Y/N."

His hands moved up and down your arms, his touch leaving a trail of fire. "I think you want me inside of you, Y/N," he said, his voice low.

You let out a small gasp, unable to stop yourself. He smirked at the sound, his eyes darkening with lust.

"I think you want me to claim you as my own, Y/N," he breathed, his breath hot on your ear.

You let out a shaky breath, unable to form words. He chuckled, his hands moving up and down your arms.

"You know what I think?" He whispered, his voice husky. "I think you've wanted this for a long time, Y/N."

"You know what I think, Bucky? I think you're full of shit," you managed to say, though you were far from calm.

He laughed softly, "Oh, really? And why is that, sweetheart?"

"Because you've been talking a lot of shit all night and haven't made a move," you replied, trying to sound confident.

"Well, maybe I'm just waiting for the right moment," he replied, his hands still on your arms.

"And maybe you're just all talk," you said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I assure you, I'm not just all talk," he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Want me to prove it to you?”

“Prove what? You can’t even turn me on, you’re nothing but a-“

Bucky's lips cut off the rest of your sentence, his tongue sliding into your mouth as his hands began to explore your body.

"Fuck, Bucky," you gasped, pulling away. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, a smirk on his face. "I'm showing you just how turned on I can make you."

Your cheeks flushed and you looked away, "Well, you're doing a shit job of it," you managed to say.

He chuckled and moved his hands down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised gasp and his lips met yours again, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You wanted to push him, tell him to get the fuck out of your room, but his touch felt too good. You felt a fire ignite inside you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He pressed his body against yours, and you could feel his arousal.

His hands roamed your body, his touch setting you on fire. He kissed you hungrily, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You moaned, the sound vibrating against his lips. He pulled away with a smirk on his face, you wanted to punch the look right off.

"How about now?" He asked, his voice laced with lust.

"That was nothing," you said, trying to act unimpressed.

He chuckled and leaned down, his lips trailing across your jawline. He nipped at your earlobe, his hands caressing your sides. You let out a soft sigh, your body betraying you.

"Still nothing?" He asked, his lips ghosting across your skin.

"You're going to have to try harder than that," you said, the words coming out as more of a moan.

"Oh, I plan on it," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Well, come on, then," you said, trying to sound uninterested. "You haven't impressed me yet."

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he said, his voice dark. "I'm just getting started."

He kissed you again, his hands roaming your body. He squeezed your breasts under your shirt, causing you to moan into his mouth. He broke the kiss and started kissing your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin. You moaned louder, unable to contain yourself.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice low. "Not so tough now, are you?"

You gasped as his hands slipping under your bra and pinching your nipples. "Why don't you beg me to fuck you, Y/N? I'll make it worth your while," he murmured against your skin.

"Oh please. I'd never beg for you." You pulled him close, kissing him deeply. You couldn't believe what was happening, but you didn't want it to stop. He pushed his hips against yours, and you could feel his hardness.

You couldn't deny that you were turned on, but you weren't willing to give him the satisfaction.

He grinded against you, his cock rubbing against your pussy through your clothes. "You like that, don't you? You like it when I grind against you," he said, his voice a husky whisper.

"You wish," you said, trying to sound unimpressed.

"You know you do," he said, grinding against you harder.

You couldn't deny the truth. The way his cock felt against you made your panties wet, and you wanted him to fuck you so bad. “Just give in, Y/N. I will give you the best orgasm you've ever had."

You wanted him to fuck you, and he knew it. You didn't want him to have the satisfaction, but you were finding it impossible to resist him. At this rate, your panties were probably soaked, and your need for him was growing stronger.

He pushed his cock against you harder, his hand moving down your stomach, until it was on your pants. He cupped your pussy, and you moaned.

"I can feel how wet you are, Y/N. You're practically dripping for me. All you have to do is say the word, and I'll fuck you like you've never been fucked before," he whispered, his breath hot on your ear.

He tugged at the button, pulling them open. He moved his hand inside, and slipped it into your panties.

"Oh, fuck, Y/N," he moaned. "Your pussy is so wet. It's so tight. It's like it's begging for my cock."

He ran his fingers through your folds, spreading your wetness around. You couldn't believe what was happening. A few moments ago, you hated this man. Now, you were letting him finger you. You moaned, and he smirked.

"You want me to fuck you, don't you, Y/N? You want me to make you cum, over and over again," he said, his voice seductive.

"I think you want that more than I do," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"We'll see about that," he said, his hand moving faster.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you tried to keep yourself from moaning. "Open your eyes, Y/N. Look at me while I finger fuck your pussy," he said, his voice low.

You opened your eyes and looked into his blue eyes. They were filled with lust and desire. He stared at you intensely, as he slipped two fingers into your pussy.

"You like that, don't you? You like my fingers inside of you," he said, his voice seductive.

You moaned, and tried not to give him the satisfaction. "You're gonna love my cock even more," he said, his thumb rubbing your clit.

You moaned louder, unable to stop yourself. He pulled his fingers out and brought them up to your lips, "Suck," he commanded.

You did as he told you, sucking your juices off his fingers.

"Do you taste that? That's how sweet you taste. That's how sweet your pussy tastes."

You moaned and looked at him, lust filling your eyes. "Now, if you want me to fuck you, then you have to beg for it. You have to tell me how much you want it."

You didn't know if you could do it, you were so turned on, but you were not willing to give in. "No, I won't," you said, defiantly.

"Okay," he said, pushing his fingers into your pussy again. "I'll have you begging for it, sweetheart. You'll be a mess by the time I'm done with you."

He curled his fingers and hit your g-spot, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

"Oh, God," you moaned, unable to control yourself.

He continued to curl his fingers, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. You could feel the pressure building inside of you, threatening to explode. You cried out in ecstasy as you came, your pussy contracting around his fingers.

He smirked, obviously pleased with himself. "That was just a taste of what's to come, Y/N. I haven't even started fucking you yet."

He removed his fingers and started removing his clothes. "If you want more, you have to beg me. You have to tell me how much you want me, how much you want my cock inside of you."

You moaned, your body still shaking from your orgasm. You were very horny, you pulled him into a kiss. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You kissed him back, and your hands started to wander. You moved your hands up his chest, and over his shoulders, feeling the muscles under his shirt. You broke the kiss and looked at him, his eyes full of lust. He looked like he was the one begging now.

"So, sweetheart. What will it be?" He asked, "Are you going to let me fuck you or are you going to keep being a brat and make me fuck it out of you?"

"Oh, I think you'll be begging me before I even consider begging you," you said, smirking.

He let out a growl and ripped the rest of your clothes off. His eyes were full of lust and desire as he took in your naked form. "You're gorgeous," he breathed, his hand moving up your body.

"So are you," you said, unable to deny his attractiveness.

He smirked, "Flattery will get you everywhere," he said, his hands roaming over your breasts.

"Well, it's the truth," you said, your body betraying you.

You kissed him again, and he kissed you back, his hands exploring your body. He pushed his hips against yours, and you could feel his hardness. You gasped as he rubbed his cock again against you. "Do you feel that, Y/N? Do you feel how hard I am for you?" He asked, his voice low.

"Fuck, Bucky." you moaned, your body aching for him.

"Let's take this upstairs, shall we?"

He scooped you up and carried you up the stairs, your lips locked in a passionate kiss. You couldn't believe this was happening, but you didn't want it to stop. He laid you on the bed and stood at the foot of the bed.

He climbed on top of you, straddling your legs, "Spread them," he commanded.

You spread your legs, exposing your pussy. He moved his hand to the apex of your thighs, and spread your wetness around. "Your pussy is so wet for me," he growled.

You moaned, your body responding to his touch. He moved his hand down, and his thumb rubbed against your clit. "Do you want my cock inside of you? Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked, his voice dark and dangerous.

You didn't answer him, he went down and kissed your inner thighs. His kisses trailed higher and higher, and you could feel his hot breath against your skin. You were practically dripping for him. "Are you ready to beg now, my Y/N?"

"No," you said, your voice shaking.

"We'll see about that." His tongue lapped at your clit, sending shivers down your spine.

You moaned, the pleasure too intense. He started sucking on your clit, his tongue flicking back and forth.

"Oh, Bucky," you moaned, unable to control yourself.

He smirked and moved his hand, thrusting two fingers into your pussy. "Beg." He commanded, his voice rough.

"No," you moaned.

"Fuck, Y/N." He groaned, thrusting into you faster. You moaned louder. "I said beg."

"Bucky..." You moaned, you were still trying to resist him, but it was getting pointless.

"Please. Beg for me to fuck you, Y/N. I want nothing else than to be buried inside of you. Tell me how bad you want it and I'll give it to you. Tell me how much you want me to ruck you, to own you, to make you cum. Beg and I'll give all of me to you. We both know that's exactly what you want."

You were so turned on that it hurt. You needed him, and you didn't know how much longer you could hold out. "Yes. Please fuck me, Bucky. I need you so bad. Please make me cum. Please," you begged, your body aching for his.

"Good girl." He smirked and pulled his fingers out of your pussy and stood up. He pushed down his boxers. His cock sprang free, the sight of it made you moan.

"See what you do to me Y/N? See how hard I am for you," he said, stroking his length.

You couldn't help but stare, the sight of his cock making you even wetter. He grinned, enjoying the way you were ogling him. "See something you like?" He teased.

You nodded, "Yes," you breathed.

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "It’s all yours baby,” he said, before moving on top of you and pressing his lips against yours. You kissed him, hungrily, your tongues dancing. He tasted like power and lust, and you couldn't get enough. "You ready, baby?"

"Yes," you moaned.

"Good. Because here it comes." He thrust his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside of you. You cried out in pleasure, the feeling of him inside of you was incredible. "Oh, fuck," he moaned.

He started thrusting his hips, fucking you with his cock. You moaned, the pleasure overwhelming you. "Bucky," you moaned.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He moaned, his hands gripping your hips. He thrust into you, harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. You moaned, his name a mantra on your lips. "That's right, Y/N. Moan my name," he growled. He started thrusting in and out of you, his pace picking up speed.

You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. He hissed, his cock throbbing inside you. "You like that? You like how my cock feels inside of you?" He asked, his voice a husky growl. "This is all for you, sweetheart. All for you."

"Fuck yes. Please, Bucky, fuck me harder," you moaned, your body writhing under his. You couldn't get enough. He was hitting all the right spots, and you were losing control.

"As you wish." He growled and started thrusting even harder and faster. His grip on your hips was tight, and he was practically slamming into you, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

"Yes. Yes, fuck, Bucky. Please don't stop. Fuck," you moaned, the pleasure was almost too much.

He kept thrusting, his cock filling you completely. "You feel so fucking good. I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock."

"Oh, god. Bucky. Please. Don't stop. I'm so close. Please," you moaned, the pressure building inside of you.

He fucked you harder, his cock pounding into you. "Cum for me, baby. Cum for me, and I'll cum for you," he growled.

Your body tensed up as you reached your climax, your walls clenching around him and his thrusts became erratic. He came soon after, his seed spilling inside of you.

You rode out your orgasm together, his thrusts slowing, his breathing heavy. You felt amazing, your body tingling with pleasure. "I'm not done with you yet, baby. Not even close," he said, his voice seductive.

"Fuck. Me too." You were still in a daze from your orgasm, but you were far from satisfied.

He leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and sweet. He pulled out of you and rolled onto his side, his hands caressing your skin. "I think we're just getting started, Y/N."

You moaned, and he kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth.

"I could spend hours between your legs, making you cum over and over again," he said, his lips moving down your jawline.

He moved his hands up to your breasts, and squeezed them, his fingers rolling your nipples. You moaned, arching your back. He kissed down your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. "Oh, God. I'm so fucking wet for you," you moaned, his lips sending shivers down your spine.

"Yeah, baby, that's it. Tell me how good it feels," he murmured, his lips moving across your skin.

He lightly played with your nipples, tweaking and pinching them. "Mmm, that feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.

"I'm not going to stop until you're a trembling mess," he said, his lips brushing against your ear.

You shivered and pulled him into another kiss, the intensity building inside of you. "What can I say? I’m an incredible lay," you moaned.

He smirked and moved one of his hands to your pussy, his fingers rubbing against your clit. You gasped and arched your back, the sensation was exquisite. "Mmm, yes you are incredible, sweetheart," he growled, his fingers moving faster.

He then pulled out to slapped your pussy, "Get on all fours. I want to fuck you from behind."

You quickly complied, getting onto your hands and knees. He positioned himself behind you, his cock teasing your entrance. He pushed into you, his cock filling you up. You moaned, the pleasure overwhelming.

He started moving in and out of you, his cock filling you up with every thrust. He was pounding into you, his cock filling you up. You were moaning, the pleasure overwhelming you.

He started thrusting in and out, his pace fast and relentless. He fucked you harder, his cock filling you completely. "Don't stop. Please. Don't stop," you moaned.

"I can never be satisfied," he growled, his hands slapping your ass.

He reached down and grabbed your hair, pulling it back. He leaned down and kissed your shoulder, his teeth nipping at your skin. You moaned, his movements sending pleasure through you. "Harder, Bucky," you begged, needing more.

He began to pound into you, his cock hitting the deepest parts of you. "Oh, fuck, Y/N," he growled, his hips snapping back and forth.

"God, Bucky, that's it," you cried, your body trembling.

He kept going, his grip on your hair tightening. You could feel another orgasm building inside of you. You cried out as the orgasm tore through you, your body shaking with pleasure. He rode out your orgasm, and soon Bucky was growling, his cock throbbing inside of you. "Oh, fuck, yes," he growled, his cock pulsing inside of you as he came.

He pulled out and collapsed next to you, his breathing ragged. You looked at him, seeing his chest rise and fall. You had never seen him look so beautiful. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. You were exhausted, but satisfied, the feel of his strong arms around you comforting.

He grinned, "I told you I could make you beg."

"Oh, please. That's not how it went," you said, sitting up. "You practically beg me to let you fuck me."

"That's not how I remember it,” the corners of his lips curling with amusement.

With a casual shrug, you maintained your playful demeanor. "Well, it's what happened."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Y/N," he replied, his hand sliding down to cup your ass.

You responded with a sassy retort, "Oh, believe me, Bucky, I'll be sleeping very well tonight."

"I hope so, because I have plenty more in store for you," he said, leaning over to kiss you.

"Well, you're not exactly terrible," you admitted, a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you teased him.

"Not exactly? Ouch." He feigned mock offense, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Oh, shut up."

"Make me," he said, his eyes filled with mischief.

With a smirk, you seized the opportunity, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He returned the kiss with fervor, his tongue exploring your mouth. You moaned softly as you felt his hands caressing your body, sending shivers down your spine.

You were breathless when he finally pulled away, "Now, that's more like it."

"Glad you approve," you replied, grinning.

You felt a rush of heat between your legs as he gazed at you, his blue eyes full of desire. "I'll always approve of you," he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

"Is that so?" You asked, biting your lip seductively.

"You bet," he replied, his eyes darkening as he leaned in to kiss you once more.

You surrendered to his touch, allowing him to take control. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and dip, sending waves of pleasure through you. He trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone, before moving back up to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

As his hands continued their exploration, he whispered, "I could kiss you all night."

"Is that so?" You breathed, your body trembling with desire.

"It is," he replied, his lips brushing against yours.

"You're really insatiable, aren't you?" You echoed the same words he used on you.

"For you? Yes," he grinned.

"You're the worst, Bucky," you sighed dramatically, a grin playing on your lips.

"And yet, here you are, enjoying every moment," he smirked, playfully pulling away from the kiss, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

"You're ridiculous," you laughed.

"That's what you love about me," he teased, pulling you even closer.

"I never said I love you," you retorted, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. "Actions speak louder than words, sweetheart."

"Oh, just shut up and kiss me already," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Yes, ma'am." He kissed you deeply, his hands roaming your body.

You gave yourself over to his touch, losing yourself in the pleasure. It was all you could do to hang on as he brought you to new heights, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body.

And it was the best loss you ever experienced.

**The End**

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel x reader

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