Must.... conclude.... Beetlejuice story.... after.... 2nd.... movie....
Go on this journey with me
(slightly edited for a better flow.)
Picture it:
A few years goes by....
Astrid and Lydia had become inceperable after their Halloween from hell and live together, but she eventually talks about wanting to experience dorm life for her first year of college. Lydia is happy for her daughter but is now afraid of being alone, not entirely sure what might happen with so many dreams that always plagued her sleep since the resurgence of ☆he who shall not be named☆ - and I want them to use that line as much as they used "keepin' it real."
The house on the hill will become internationally known as the notorious "Lydia Deets' Haunted Arthouse", she didn't have a show anymore, but that didn't stop her reputation from growing exponentially after the Halloween fiasco. People wanna buy this property for millions of dollars, but Lydia will be too afraid of whatever might happen to anyone, should they ever meet the demon from her nightmares, so she keeps the house by using some of Delia's fame funds to keep the home in their name - something Delia would HATE lol - but Lydia doesn't wanna actually be in the house.
Betelgeuse is stuck in the underworld, trying to hide from a revived Delores that continues to terrorize the afterlife, only now she is destroying the place. If the Sandworm can't kill Betelgeuse, how tf is it gonna kill Delores? Wolf Jackson is of course on the case, but things are getting out of hand. This makes Betlegeuse a prime target for anyone with a soul that might wanna rat him out. And there are PLENTY who wanna rat him out. Trying to find a way out or a way to kill the broad, he has to get creative as he stays in hiding. And where is the perfect place to hide? In a certain model town in a certain model home.
Rory will be undead and use his winning personality to act like he worships the ground Delores walks on so she doesn't suck out his soul. She will say she wants Betelgeuse and wants to kill Lydia. He is cool with that and says he will help her achive that goal. He will then become her lacky and tell her how pretty and perfect she is to keep the target off his back. He will be terrified of her but this will gradually make her love Rory and this can cause some potential fun for future scenes.
Lydia has nightmares that always involve Betlegeuse, even some can involve them going on wacky cartoon adventures from the show, but they'll be creepy and dark and stop-motion because Burton. She tries therapy, but it will end up being a bust. It's hard finding the right therapist with someone as much truama as her. OH MY GOD HAVE MICHAEL KEATON PLAY THIS CHARACTER!!!!! (Nice little nod to movie 2) It will freak her tf out thinking she's seeing Betlegeuse everywhere!
This will cause her to become a shut-in after getting rich off the royalties of selling her personal story - a melodrama of love and the loss of two parents after a lifetime of hauntings from their psychic daughter. She sells this story to various people who want to write it into something. She will end up reading raving reviews about a live theater production of her story called "Ghost House" or "Scared Sheetless" after a graphic novel that was released or some shit. Supernatural levels of meta. Might as well! :D
After a particular dream that ruffles Lydia awake in her own apartment, (the dream at the end of movie 2 maybe?) something strange will happen to the house on the hill, causing Lydia to go back and figure it out. Astrid will hear of this and not want her mom to be there alone and goes with her to help solve the mystery. Lydia thinks she knows what (or who) it is and doesn't want Astrid to come along, but she does anyway.
Hiding there in the model, Betelgeuse will see that she and her daughter have returned, thinking she's finally come to her senses and come back to him lol. Betelgeuse gets desperate for Lydia's attention in the best way he knows how - dreams. They've got a psychic connection, and he's done it plenty of times, but now it's for business as well as pleasure.
It would be some kind of earthquake that shakes the hill. Being careful and walking around whatever damage was mysteriously done, some locals say its another haunting and they want to tear the large house down and make something new. Aatrid can hear these comments and relay them to her mom. This will start making Lydia curious about the history of the hill this house was built on, especially since it's so close to the graveyard (the same place Betlegeuse was buried in the model in movie 1)
So she goes on a hunt in the small town, expands it a little, maybe even find the Mainlands old shop? This can parallel with expanding the afterlife while Betlegeuse is trying to find allies. Betelgeuse tries to round up anyone he knows that he can trust - literally anyone from the past - gotta bring Catherine O'Hara and Gena Davis back, right? Stop motion her in as a ripple in dimensional shifts or something and just use her voice. Richard would help as a thanks for helping his kid in the past, and I KNOW we can get Bob back if we tried.
Lydia can end up learning about some of Betlegeuse's history - finds a picture of an eerily familiar couple - but all this place knows is that they were just two of the MANY that were tossed in mass graves on this land centuries back but they don't know details other than they came from Italy. She will make it a mission to go to their original resting place to try to get more info. She's rich. She can do that. (Their love story was in Italy, right?)
Getting to Italy, Lydia learns the urban legend of a murder suicide of some nutorious bad couple who was known for terrorizing the nights in their hellrsising escepades, but after they were dead and buried, the two lovers corpses, along with many other discarded corpses of dead evil people, were moved out of their original land and brought to a new land to be buried there - getting rid of unwanted individuals so they could bring in the industrial revolution. There will be several names, but two will stand out along with a picture -- Delores and another name that's crossed out. Make it Lawrence, lol. Isn't that Betlegeuse's name in the cartoon?
"Betlegeuse?" Lydia whispers.
“Mom!”
“S-sorry."
Astrid tags along with her mother, happy to travel and hunt creepy shit again. Her dad would be proud. This time she won't meet a boy but maybe a girl who was also doing her own research for school. Jeremy was technically her first experience with a boy, and it's possible to stray away from reminders of bad experiences and kids experiment at this age anyway. It will be a cute goth girl who is a fan of Lydia's old show and is one of the first girls Astrid's age to ever actually be nice to her. A nice connection. This could also be a ploy to pull Lydia back into BJs world again, too - yay twists! She can maybe be an illegal ghost girl looking for help from Lydia because she thinks the paranormal human can help everyone in the afterlife.
Underworld is in chaos, and here is a rift between worlds after so many souls had been taken from the afterlife. There's no more order, reality is breaking, and the only way to get everything back in order is to destroy the soul sucker and release the souls she has absorbed. The more she absorbs, the more power she gets.
They get home, and another shift happens between worlds, and with so much death in the afterlife, it's causing serious problems in the real world and Astrid has an idea to maybe call someone for help. Lydia shuts it down, but more rifts and earthquakes happen. She will have another dream of him trying to get her to call his name. And maybe she can awaken in a living nightmare caused by the rift between worlds, and they are both almost killed (by a sandworm, why tf not!!!) before calling Betlegeuse for help.
Get real 'out there' and put those practical affects to good use and let the shenegins begin! As much as I love watching Betelgeuse try to marry Lydia, there is no attempt at marriage this time. There's too much to do. "I just saved your life, now you can help me save mine and finally kill that soul sucking witch for good.”
“No games. No tricks.” Lydia warns.
“I'm not the trickster in this relationship babe,” he wickedly grins, “but we can get back to that after we save our asses. You're coming with me.” Have him turn into a tour guide as he shows off different aspects of the afterlife thays falling apart before the three of them eventually have to run from people who have allied themselves with Delores to find Betelgeuse.
Imagine the reunion of seeing Rory with Delores. Imagine crazy shit that can magically appear to help end the story. Hell, have the goth girl Astrid meets to come back and redeem herself at the end. I dunno. She can appear and admit to being Delores daughter (before meeting Betelgeuse) and thats why she was at the same place Lydia and Astrid went in Italy to find answers- she was too.
This relationship can parallel Lydia and Astrid's positive one- have Delores sacrifice her daughter to start her sacrificial rite for power, and her daughter never forgive her (I swear I am just pulling this out of my ass) have the girl hold vengence for her mom and she can give Lydia the dagger that her mother Delores killed her with that still has the young girl's cursed blood on it. She says to use it to kill Delores, but Betelgeuse is the only one strong enough who can get close enough to do it.
With so much chaos and so many souls taken, anything can happen in the underworld, and chaos ensues. Maybe even break in to see glimpses of the afterlife, perhaps they see a glimpse of hell and see how Jeremy is being tortured (it will be a silly Tim Burton way). They can see part of the great beyond maybe wave at Delia (and the back of Charls’ head) too?
They finally meet Delores and she will say she is over Betelgeuse, happy with her new pet Rory. It's a shock for Lydia to see Rory there but isn't surprised to see him so desperate to fawn after Delores. Satisfied with the new power she’s gained, Delores prefers to keep Betelgeuse alive to torture him.
Lydia will give Betelgeuse the dagger so he can pop her like a bubble and all the souls she's consumed will escape and go back to their soul holders. But why waste energy killing Betelgeuse when Delores can just use him? She is able to levitate him up but Lydia, Astrid, and the goth girl work together to pull him back down. - this is where the goth girl can suddenly enter for the final fight!
Seeing her daughter makes her angry, and seeing her help her foes pisses her off. Delores grows in size to show her strength, and ordering Rory to take care of those little girls. Little goth girl and Astrid go after Rory and Lydia will get a plan -
"Oh... you're not into him anymore, huh? So... you wouldn't care if I did this?" And Lydia pulls that fucker in to kiss him. (This feels very Phantom of the Opera coded.....) Just a peck is enough for Delores to RAGE and she goes full attack mode. She goes after Lydia and Beletgeuse steps in front of her and kills Delores with whatever magical shit her dead vengeful goth daughter supplied, lol. (And I'm talking full jack sparrow stabbing the kraken slow mode scene) Epic as shit!!! Delores daughter will then rest in peace.
Astrid will then ask herself, “Now why the hell can't I connect with humans like I can with ghosts?”
“Family trait, unfortunately.” Lydia says feeling Beletgeuse's breath literally go down her neck with his close proximity. "At least they didn't try to suck you into marrying them."
End it with Lydia being recruited by Wolf Jackson to find those who have been lost in the real world or something. Make it to where she and Betelgeuse have to work together to keep the plane between the living and the dead closed with her as the keeper of the house.
Have the house be the main character in the end!!!!
Betelgeuse will turn to Lydia and say, "So, you're not the marrying type, eh? I'm fine with that-" He'll try to pull her in for another kiss, but she'll push him away.
"Nooo! No-" He lets her shove him to the floor, "I just knew something like that would save your ass. That's what you asked for right? Now we’re even." He quickly jumps back up. "I know jealousy when I see it.”
"You sure do." he inches closer to her, but she crosses her arms looking away, seemingly uninterested.
"Betelgeuse...”
"I can wait, honey. I know you want me." He flexes as he slowly walks away with pride. "No one can resist ‘the juice’ once they've had a taste." He winks.
Astrid groans for her mother, but Lydia just looks to him like she always does.
"Betelgeuse..."
"You will be the one to kiss me again, babes." He holds his arms out in his iconic way. "I got all the time in the world." He thinks this is the end.
"Betelgeuse."
Hmmm.... he doesn't disappear?
But he does give a wicked smile.
Turns out when killing the spirit of the soul sucking witch, the souls did escape, but her power had to be absorbed by someone, and Betelgeuse didn't... really... need.... help with obtaining more power, did he?
Would he be like demi-god state now? Why the hell not? Give me an Astarion evil ending kind of transformation. Give me love and deepspace realness. (google those). Go the whole nine and make him HOT AND SCARY in the end. Michael Keaton is attractive. It's doable! Antihero status! Make it wild! Demigod!!!!
Imagine THAT being interested in you, Lydia. I don't think you'd say no.
End it with his new form levitating and him saying that that iconic voice and green glowing eyes. "It's Showtime."
Throw in a musical number somewhere, a little justice for Bob and you have a lovely story.
There. Done.
I don't think a 3rd will be made, and if there is one, I don't think it would be this ^ stupid! Lol
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Devotion & Desire
Chapter Four
Plot summary : When you, a lone omega, move in across the hall from alpha Bucky Barnes, he knows that his life is about to get a lot more complicated, but he has no idea just how much you’re going to turn his life upside down. You’re both devoted to fixing your past mistakes, but will desire for something more get the better of you?
Pairing : Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader
Story Rating : R
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Explicit smut and omega heat stuff. All chapters will contain the usual omegaverse and A/B/O tropes, and explicit smut. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.
Word Count : 6.2k
A/N : 😅 still trying to walk the fine line between plot and smut
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE
MASTER LIST
Chapter Four
It felt like a fever dream, like some terrible nightmare that started to fade from memory the moment your eyes opened. Only, it wasn’t. It had happened.
Bucky had -
No.
No.
You didn’t even want to think about it. Regardless of how much it had helped, and how much you might have needed it at the time, you felt nothing but regret. Closing your eyes, you were assaulted by vivid memories of the way he’d touched you, the way you’d moaned for him, and perhaps worst of all, the way you’d kissed him.
Hours later, his scent still lingered in the room, mixed with yours, making you feel dizzy, giddy.
Somehow, you managed to pull yourself from the crude little nest you’d throw together with little more than sheets, sofa cushions and a couple of towels.
Everything ached and just the exertion of standing up and pulling on your leggings had your skin coated in a layer of sweat. You felt awful. And, as you took a step away from the bed, you felt like you were going to fall down. But you couldn’t stop. You needed to find Bucky. You needed him to know that it had been a mistake.
Staggering, you made your way to the door, weakly pulling it open and almost falling through it. But then another scent assaulted your senses; another alpha, someone you didn’t recognise.
He looked up at you, an easy smile pulling on his lips and, for a second, there was a faint hint of recognition. You thought you recognised him. But you couldn’t place how or where from. Your mind was a haze, the fog of your heat making it difficult for you to think straight.
“Hey, I’m Sam,” he said, clearly noticing your confusion. “I’m a friend of Bucky’s.”
“Where is he?” You asked, gripping the doorframe for support.
“He needed to go out, didn’t tell me where. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but he’s not exactly an open book,” Sam answered, letting out a warm sort of laugh that told you he and Bucky were close. “He asked me to keep an eye on you, in case you needed anything.”
Your eyes widened, thoughts heading in an unsettling direction. He’d asked another alpha to take care of you?
“Not like that,” Sam quickly clarified, holding up his hands, wanting to make sure there was no confusion. “I brought you some things.”
He gave a nod of his head towards two bags on the floor, a backpack, and a shopping bag filled with womens clothes.
“There’s some of my sister's clothes in there, she’s a beta and a bit bigger than you, but they should be alright,” he explained and you offered a muttered thank you.
You decided to keep your distance, clinging to the door frame while your legs trembled beneath you. Your eyes dropped for a moment, struggling with a strange mixture of feelings welling up inside you.
You felt abandoned by Bucky, even though you didn’t want him around in the first place. And you longed for him, despite hating him. Shaking your head, you tried to clear your mind and stop all the racing thoughts and unsettling feelings. It was just your heat making you feel things that you knew weren’t real, your biology trying to make you into a good omega for an alpha you had the misfortune of craving.
Looking at Sam again, you realised he was watching you, and recognition finally sparked within you.
“Wait... you’re the Falcon... or is it Captain America now?” The confusion was clear in your voice, only sounding half convinced that he was who you believed him to be.
“Just Sam is fine,” he replied with that easy smile.
You weren’t sure what it was about him, but he felt safe, like he was the sort of guy to wear his heart on his sleeve, unlike Bucky who was gruff and guarded. How the two of them could be friends, you couldn’t even begin to understand. So, you asked.
“Why is Captain America helping the Winter Soldier?”
“Because Bucky isn’t the Winter Soldier anymore,” Sam answered. Clearly the look on your face gave away that you didn’t believe him so, a moment later, Sam continued; “he told me what happened to you - to your brother - but you have to understand that while it might have been him, it wasn’t Bucky.”
“You think just because he was under mind control that he’s any less to blame?” You answered back, unintentionally allowing some of your anger to slip into your tone.
“Do you maybe want to take a second to think about what you just said?” Sam asked, his voice still calm and friendly. Your gaze dropped, hating that some part of you knew he was right to call you out. “I know it doesn’t change how you feel and it won’t bring your brother back, but if you think for a moment that it doesn’t hurt him almost as much as it hurts you, then -”
The sound of the door had him falling quiet. For whatever reason, he didn’t want Bucky to know that he’d just been defending him to you.
Stepping into the apartment, Bucky looked at Sam before noticing you standing in the doorway to the bedroom.
“Are you okay?” He asked. “Should you be up?”
“We were just getting to know each other,” Sam decided to answer before you got the chance.
Bucky grimaced. “What did you tell her?”
For a moment he looked at you, seeming so genuinely concerned that his friend might have told you something terrible, and you wondered if that was just how their friendship was or if Bucky was so unsure of himself that all he could do was jump to the worst conclusion.
“He didn’t say anything I don’t already know,” you answered.
It earned a surprised look from Sam, and it was as close as you’d ever get to actually agreeing with what he’d told you. But agreement and acceptance were two different things, and you still hated the Winter Soldier and, by extension, Bucky.
“Where have you been?” You dared to ask Bucky, realising that he was carrying a familiar looking box in his hands.
“I was in the neighbourhood, so I stopped at Gracie’s for a pie,” Bucky said, finally stepping further into the apartment.
“You’ve got ex-Hydra agents looking for you and you stopped for a pie?” Sam asked, like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
“It’s - it’s really good pie,” you said, your grip tightening on the doorframe, as a wave of cramping hit.
“Did you ask her about Rumlow yet?” Sam asked, seemingly from nowhere.
Your legs almost gave in beneath you at the sound of his name. Pressing yourself against the doorframe was the only thing that stopped you from falling.
Bucky was in front of you in an instant, before Sam was even half out of his seat. He reached for you to steady you, but you did everything you could to pull away and remain standing under your own steam.
“How do you know about Rumlow?” You asked, eyes moving between the two alphas.
“The guys that tried to take you, they used to work with him. We thought Rumlow died in Lagos years ago, but -” Sam explained, stopping when you shook your head.
“No... he’s alive,” you said.
“How does Rumlow fit into any of this?” Sam asked. “How do you know him?”
Your eyes drifted to Bucky, an uncomfortable feeling twisting your guts.
“He promised to help me track down and kill the Winter Soldier but he - he lied to me,” you explained without explaining, not wanting to say anything more than that.
“Why would he be after you now?” Bucky asked.
“I don’t -” a sudden surge of pain cut you off and almost had you doubling over.
Before you could even think to try and stop him, Bucky had hold of you, sweeping you off your feet with ease and carrying you back to bed. Moments later, he was gently placing you back down in your nest.
“You need to rest,” he told you softly, his fingers tenderly brushing your hair away from your face.
You struggled to keep your eyes open and Bucky took that as a sign to leave you. But, when he started to turn, you reached for him, weakly grasping his sleeve.
“We need to talk,” you told him, and watched as he glanced to the door making sure Sam wasn’t listening in. When you were both satisfied that you wouldn’t be overheard, you spoke. “Don’t go getting any ideas about last night. It - it shouldn’t’ve happened, it was just -”
“I get it,” he cut in. “I’m an alpha, you’re an omega. It’s just biology. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Good ‘cause it can't happen again,” you said, barely able to even look him in the eye as you spoke.
His jaw clenched and, for a moment it almost seemed like he was angry - or maybe he was disappointed. It was hard to tell. Either way, it seemed like your words had more of an effect than you’d anticipated.
“Fair enough,” he said, his tone quickly becoming more distant, somehow colder. “I was just trying to help.”
“I don’t need your help.”
It was a stupid thing to say because you both knew it was entirely untrue but, at that exact moment, you believed your own bullshit.
“Clearly,” he remarked sarcastically, “you seem to be doing great on your own.”
When you didn’t seem to have a witty response for him, Bucky pulled away from you, breaking your hold on him, and you watched as he left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. All you could do for a few minutes was stare at the door, wondering if you’d somehow managed to hurt his feelings.
“She seems -”
“She’s a pain in the ass,” Bucky finished the thought for Sam, stalking away from the closed door.
Sam just watched Bucky for a moment as he grabbed the box with the pie and headed towards the kitchen. He waited a beat before following after, watching Bucky as he removed the pie from the box and cut himself a large slice without offering any to Sam.
“Okay, this is passive aggressive even for you,” Sam remarked, nodding at the pie, indicating he wanted a slice.
Bucky huffed before cutting his friend a slice significantly smaller than his own and stalking back into the den, taking a seat on the sofa to eat.
“Listen, if this is getting to you, I can watch her and you can go do... whatever it is you do when you go off on your own,” Sam offered cautiously as he took a seat.
Sam was too busy breaking off his first bite of pie with his fork to notice the way Bucky was glaring at him but, the moment he looked up, he had his answer.
“Okay,” Sam said, deciding it wasn’t worth starting an argument over, so he changed the subject. “Torres got back to me, he says he still hasn’t found any trace of her or who he really is, but he found out about Berlin...”
The statement was allowed to hang in the air between them, not speaking until Bucky gave some indication that he wanted to hear it and, even when he received that slight nod, Sam hesitated for a moment more.
He pulled out his phone and opened the file that Torres had sent him.
“It was in February, 2009. There was a tech conference in Berlin - but not for your run-of-the-mill iPhones and games consoles. It was all military grade tech,” Sam explained, watching Bucky for any negative reactions or flickers of recollection. “We’re talking big like Stark Tech, Hammer Industries, A.I.M. -”
“I get the picture,” Bucky interrupted.
“Well, there were rumours about some new satellite tech, something that would have allowed whoever had control of it to spy on anyone, to break into any system, to watch anyone they wanted. It was years ahead of its time. From what we can tell it was the sort of thing that a group like Hydra wouldn’t want falling into the wrong hands.”
“So they sent me,” Bucky sighed. “What else did you find out?”
Again, Sam hesitated for a few seconds.
“The crime scene report from the hotel; it says her brother checked in under a false name, assumed to be travelling alone, and the crime scene photos... they show that he put up a fight...”
Instead of explaining it, Sam handed his phone to Bucky, watching as he took in the crime scene photos and the evidence list before going very quiet and very still. He let a minute pass in silent contemplation before he spoke again.
“He was hiding something,” he sighed, his eyes closing for a moment and his head hanging forward, the memories flooding back to him. “I was sent to get everything he had. I got the drive with the schematics but I - I thought he was holding something back. And he was. He was protecting his sister while she hid. I tortured him and he refused to give her up...”
Putting Sam’s phone down, he stood, his slice of pie forgotten and abandoned.
Sam didn’t say anything as Bucky walked towards the window, putting his back to his friend, not wanting Sam to see the pain and self-loathing on his face. But Sam wasn’t prepared to let him wallow.
“So, what now?” Sam asked.
“What do you mean ‘what now’?”
“What comes next, Buck? You know why she tried to kill you, now how are you going to make amends?”
“Don’t start with the therapy-talk, Sam. I’m not in the mood,” Bucky snapped.
“Well you better get in the mood, because there’s a person in that room who needs your help, and if you’re not willing to look after her -”
“I never said that.” Bucky turned back to face Sam, conviction clear in his voice. “Of course I’ll look after her.
------------
You lost track of time the moment you were placed back in bed.
You thought that you could hear their voices through the door but maybe it was just delirium from the fever playing tricks on you. Everything hurt. Your muscles ached and your joints felt stiff, and your temperature continued to climb.
Turning this way and that, you tried to get comfortable, tried to find just the right angle to lay at to make the pain stop.
It wasn’t long before there was something else beneath the pain, that desperate longing that you couldn’t control, that need that had your hand pawing at your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but knowing that, once you started, you wouldn’t be able to stop.
The more you denied yourself, the more it hurt, until it felt like your insides were burning.
You reached for the water bottle on the nightstand, only to clumsily knock it onto the floor and, when you leaned down to try and retrieve it, your vision started to swim.
The next thing you knew, you were on the floor.
There was no telling if it was the sound of the bottle falling or your knees hitting the floor that alerted Bucky, but he was at your side in seconds, swearing and placing his hand on your forehead to feel how hot your fever was running.
“You should’ve told me it had gotten this bad,” he muttered as he scooped you off the floor and started to carry you through the apartment.
“Where are you taking me?” You asked, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.
Bucky didn’t answer, but it soon became clear.
He took you into the bathroom, carrying you into the shower and quickly started up the cold water.
A relieved gasp left your lips at the feel of the cold water on your skin, soaking into your sweat-drenched clothes. Your head dropped onto his shoulder, letting him hold you under the water for what felt like hours. You tried to mutter something, an awkward thank you, but the words came out as little more than incomprehensible babble. Bucky simply shushed you, his arms holding you a little tighter.
It didn’t even cross your mind that you were both still dressed or that the cold must have been uncomfortable for Bucky. It finally felt like you could breathe again, like you weren’t being smothered by the fever. Your eyes closed and you relaxed in his arms, coming to the uncomfortable realisation that moments like this were why omegas needed alphas.
You shifted, moving your head, barely even noticing that you were doing it until your nose was pressed to his gland and every breath you took was him.
Somehow you managed to fall asleep in his arms, and you had no idea how long he held you under the water before drying you off as best he could and returning you to bed.
But you didn’t sleep for long and, when your eyes opened again, you found him sitting on the floor beside your bed, glancing over his shoulder at you as you reached for the fresh, cold bottle of water he’d left on the nightstand for you.
“I remember,” he told you cryptically, looking forward again, facing away from you.
“What?”
“Your brother. That night in Berlin… everything I did...”
There was something in his voice, in the slump of his shoulders, that had you remembering Sam’s words to you, and it made your stomach twist uncomfortably.
“I’m sorry,” he added a moment later. “I understand why you hate me so much now.”
It sounded genuine, it sounded like he really was sorry, like the memory of what he’d done was causing him as much pain as it did you. And you didn’t want to hear it. You weren’t prepared for any of this; after years of seeing him as a monster, having your brother’s brutal murder as your only frame of reference, you found that this contrite, apologetic Bucky didn’t fit the role of the man you wanted to blame.
And it left you annoyed. It left you feeling like all the time you’d spent, the years of your life you’d wasted and the terrible things you’d endured to get to him, to make him suffer, had all been for nothing.
How could you hurt this man who seemed so pained by his own existence?
An awkward, uncomfortable sound escaped you as you laid back, your frustration bubbling over and leaving you at a total loss.
Bucky had no idea what was going through your head, he could only assume that you were still in pain.
“It’s going to get worse, isn’t it?” He asked with a noticeable hesitation. “It gets worse after the halfway point, right?”
“Have you been Googling heats?” At any other time you would have taken a mocking tone, but you were too exhausted and overwhelmed to even think about it.
With Bucky so close, you found it harder to control your baser desires, the omega part of you that craved an alpha, that craved him. But Bucky didn’t even seem to notice.
“Yeah, I -” he let out an awkward sigh, “- I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before and I know last night wasn’t... I mean, I know you didn’t...”
Not wanting to watch him struggle, you decided to put him out of his misery and move the conversation along, if only because talking was better than thinking and you needed something to keep your mind from straying too far.
“You’ve never had an omega before?” You asked.
“Not... not like this,” he said but didn’t go into any detail about what that meant. “In the decades that I was with Hydra, they mostly kept me on ice, and I didn’t exactly get to meet anyone.”
Silence fell and he moved, lifting himself onto his knees and turning to face you. Before you could ask what he was doing, you saw him reaching for the bowl of water and the washcloth. He gently pressed it to your burning cheeks and, for a few minutes he seemed content to remain silent, but it didn’t last.
“It’s because of the suppressants, isn’t it? That’s why it’s so bad,” he asked, and you confirmed his suspicions with little more than a glance. “Why did you take them for so long?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Because being an omega fucking sucks,” you said with a sigh. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to feel weak and helpless all the time? To have people look at you like you only exist for a single purpose?”
He took an awkward breath, then answered. “More than you know.”
For a moment you considered his words, considered the implications. He’d been a killer, Hydra’s attack dog, only ever let off-leash when he was needed to kill someone. It had been his life, his purpose. The sense of understanding you felt was uncomfortable, further confusing how you felt about him. And you hated it. You didn’t want to feel sorry for him, you didn’t want to feel anything at all.
“At least you’re an alpha,” you said grimly, “you get to fuck instead of being fucked.”
“It still doesn't explain the suppressants.”
“I started taking them because I didn’t want to get stuck being some alpha’s omega again...”
“Wait...” it took a second but he finally seemed to start putting it together. “You and Rumlow?”
You gave only the slightest of nods. Bucky didn’t say anything, but his silence made it obvious that he wanted you to explain.
“I was trying to track you down the Winter Soldier. I didn’t realise he was Hydra when I tried to buy information from him.” You couldn’t look at Bucky as you spoke, as the anger started to slip into your voice. “He promised he would help me, he took me in and - I was young and stupid, and by the time I realised I was trapped, it was too late. He wanted to claim me, but I rejected him, so he did the next best thing and kept me...”
From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his vibranium hand curling into a tight fist.
“He disappeared in the blip and I got away. Since then I’ve done everything I can to present as a beta.”
“Why is he after you now?” Bucky asked.
“I don’t know. I guess when you were looking into me, it must have flagged something somewhere, and he came looking,” you answered, feeling your stomach knot at the thought. “Brock, he - he doesn’t like to lose and he doesn’t like to be told no. He thinks I’m his...”
“Well, he’s not getting you back,” Bucky stated with an angry certainty that you didn’t understand.
You looked at him, not sure you wanted to ask and, by the time you’d decided that you probably should, it was too late. He got to his feet and headed for the door, telling you to shout if you needed anything.
For a time you just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything that had happened, everything that was still happening.
You had wanted Bucky to suffer for killing your brother, but you wanted to be the cause of that suffering, not his own remorse over his actions. And, again, you found yourself thinking back to your conversation with Sam, the way you’d had to concede that it hadn’t even been Bucky who killed your brother.
Round and round, there was no escaping all the thoughts and questions in your head, all the things that made you angry and the things you couldn’t control.
And, soon enough, it became hard to think about anything but the torture your own body was putting you through. Your temperature started to rise again and you squirmed awkwardly, pressing your thighs together, slick starting to soak through your underwear.
Then you remembered the bags by the bedroom door, the clean clothes Sam had brought for you.
On shaky legs you made your way out of the bedroom, expecting to find Bucky on the sofa but, instead, you could hear the shower running again - why was he showering again? The thought quickly left your mind as you started rummaging through the bags. One bag was filled with womens clothes and the other -
Fuck.
The backpack was basically a bio-weapon, filled with Bucky’s clothes, shirts and sweatpants that hadn’t been laundered. And, before you knew what you were doing, you’d taken one of his shirts and were heading back to your nest with it, not thinking to close the bedroom door behind you, suddenly consumed by your baser urges.
Falling onto the bed, you pressed his shirt to your nose and inhaled his scent.
You hated yourself for how much you craved him, how much you wanted to be wrapped up in his scent, in him. You twitched and squirmed, that awful, longing ache burning through you again. It wasn’t long before your hand was reaching between your thighs and soft whines started to escape you.
At some point the shower stopped, and your eyes opened to find Bucky in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel slung low around his waist, his eyes fixed on you. Just the sight of his exposed chest and abs, still damp from the shower, was enough to cause a dramatic spike in your arousal.
Despite your embarrassment, your hand kept moving, fingers strumming your clit through your slick-soaked panties while you held his shirt to your nose. And Bucky watched.
“Bucky...”
That moan was all the invitation he needed to cross the room. Even as he came to stand over you, your fingers didn’t stop, in fact they got faster, desperate. More little whimpers and moans escaped you, but he didn’t touch you, didn’t attempt to give you what you needed, what you craved. He just watched and his gaze alone was all it took to break your resolve.
“Please?” You finally begged.
“You sure you want my help again, little mouse?”
You nodded. Despite everything you’d told him after the last time, you nodded. Desperately. Enthusiastically.
Bucky didn’t need any more than that, climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your legs. His hands felt cold as they slipped up your thighs to pull away your wet panties. (Somewhere in the back of your mind you realised he’d been having a cold shower, but in your needy, muddled state, you couldn’t understand why.)
Without hesitation or ceremony, a cold metal finger ran through your folds before sinking inside you, moving slowly, as if he thought you needed warming up.
Your head dropped back on the pillow and your hips started to move against his hand, desperate for more. You were so caught up in the feeling, in the need for more, for everything, that you didn’t realise he’d lowered his head until you felt his heavy breath against your inner thigh and you felt the slow drag of his tongue over your thigh gland.
A desperate moan tore from your lips, your eyes opened and you looked down to see him between your legs. The sight alone was enough to cause you to clench around his finger and leave you on the precipice of orgasm.
Without thinking, your hand reached for him, tangling in his hair. His eyes stayed fixed on yours as his tongue ran along your gland again, this time licking higher, groaning against your skin, letting out sounds that made it seem like he was the one in need instead of you.
You jolted, back arching the moment his tongue found your clit. His free hand pressed on your stomach, pinning you down while his vibranium hand continued to slowly fuck you with a deliberately teasing pace. His tongue moved just as slowly, causing you to whimper and keen, your fingers tightening in his hair, trying to pull him closer.
The pressure built up in you slowly and the sounds you were making got more desperate and eager.
You just about screamed when he started to suck your clit and bent his finger inside you, finding that sensitive spot, causing you to come almost instantly. As you trembled and shuddered, your hand reached for his hand on your stomach and pulled it upwards, pushing up your baggy tee-shirt and placing it on your breast. Your other hand remained in his hair, holding tight, ensuring that his head stayed between your thighs.
He stilled for a few moments, letting you ride out one orgasm before starting to lead you towards the next. A second cold, metal finger slid inside you with ease, your back arching a little, your own fingers twisting in his hair and tugging harder.
You’d told him never again, but after the second orgasm pulled from you by his fingers and his tongue, some part of you knew you wouldn’t survive if you never got to experience this bliss again.
After the third orgasm, he finally lifted his head and slowly started to move up your body, and you let him. No, you encouraged him, tugging on his hair until his face was only inches from yours. You both hesitated as he looked down at you, his fingers still fucking you at that delicious pace.
“It’s just biology,” he muttered softly, as if he was giving both of you permission to give in to each other.
Finally, you lifted your head, your lips clumsily crashing into his and igniting a desperate kiss that seemed to go on and on, until a final fourth orgasm was pulled from you. Even then, as his fingers stilled and finally slipped from your trembling body, his lips lingered against yours, and your fingers remained tangled in his hair
When your body slumped back, exhausted, Bucky remained above you for a few moments more before finally withdrawing, getting up and leaving the room, and leaving you more confused than ever. But at least some of the pain had subsided.
He wasn’t gone for long.
After a few minutes he returned fully dressed and with two plates, each with a slice of pie.
He placed one on the bed beside you before sitting back down on the floor next to your bed. Despite what you’d just done, now that it was over, he seemed to want to maintain a polite distance.
“Gracie’s apple pie?” You muttered, tired but definitely hungry enough to eat.
Bucky gave a hum of acknowledgement. “She said it was your favourite.”
You fell silent, staring at the pie, thinking about the life you could have had; the murder plot aside, you’d liked working at Gracie’s and you liked the friends you’d made. But it was all gone now. You couldn’t go back and tell them you’d been lying to them about who you were just to get close to Bucky.
You were going to be alone again.
And that thought hurt.
“At least I get to have it one last time,” you muttered as you sat back against the headboard and started to eat.
“Last time?” He repeated, confused.
“It’s not like I can go back after... y’know all the lies and everything,” you said.
“I think they’d be a lot more understanding than you think,” he offered through a mouthful of pie.
“Right, I’ll just come out and tell them that the sweet little omega act was all a lie, and I was only being nice to them so I could get close enough to kill you,” you retorted.
Honestly, you might have laughed if it hadn’t made you feel so pathetic and alone.
“Sometimes people are willing to forgive a lot if you apologise,” Bucky shrugged.
You weren’t sure if he was suggesting that you should forgive him or trying to let you know that he’d already forgiven you. You didn’t ask. Both of you fell silent while you ate. And, not long after finishing, you managed to fall asleep again.
------------
The sound of muttering woke you up. You quickly realised that it was Bucky. He was laid on the floor in his boxers with nothing but a pillow for comfort, thrashing and grumbling in his sleep, obviously having a nightmare. He must have decided to sleep on the floor to be close in case you needed him in the night and - fuck, you didn’t even want to think about how that made you feel.
All you knew for certain - all you were willing to admit - was that you hated seeing him like that. As someone who knew what it was like to be plagued by nightmares, you wouldn’t have wished it on your worst enemy.
You half-fell out of bed, landing on your hands and knees, before slumping down beside him. Moving closer, you pressed yourself into his side and draped your arm over his body, your face against his neck, nose inches from his gland.
He quickly stilled and you heard a sharp inhale as he woke up.
“What -” he started, sounding exhausted and confused.
“Shut up,” you half-demanded, half-begged, not wanting to explain it to him.
He didn’t say anything else. A moment later, his arm was around you, pulling you closer. Instinctively, your leg moved over his thigh, tangling your bodies together. His hand pressed against your cheek for a moment before brushing your hair away from your face.
“You’re burning up,” Bucky muttered, “do you need -”
“No, just - just don’t move,” you whined, wanting to hold him, wanting to feel safe in his arms even though you knew it was the most dangerous place for you. “Just... please don’t move.”
“Okay, mouse...” he muttered softly, shifting just a fraction so you could share his pillow.
Slowly but surely, you felt him relax and, as he did, you did too, shifting closer so his thigh was pressed between yours. Right then, you didn’t need or want more than that, you were content just feeling his body against yours.
But, like every other still moment that you’d managed to find during your heat so far, it didn’t last.
After a few hours you woke to that awful, cramping sensation in your stomach. He was still sleeping, still holding you so tight, and you didn’t want to wake him but his thigh between yours became impossible to ignore. You started to move slowly, grinding yourself against him, slick quickly soaking your panties and his thigh. At first you tried to be gentle, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t what you needed.
Bucky woke to find you desperately grinding against his thigh like a feral, horny animal. If you hadn’t felt so desperate, you would have felt your cheeks burning with shame. But you were desperate and you needed something to stop the pain. You needed him.
He didn’t speak, didn’t ask what you were doing, he just pressed his thigh against you and turned his head toward yours. As your head fell back, his lips pressed to your throat, kissing, licking and sucking their way towards your gland, and causing you to let out a desperate moan.
You pressed closer still, until the only way you could get close enough was to straddle his lap. You weren’t shocked to find that he was hard - it barely even crossed your mind, too deep in your own desperate needs to think straight anymore. His hips lifted, pressing against you as you both started to move, each of you seeking something from the other as you slick quickly soaked through your panties and began to wet his boxers.
Leaning back, you pulled off your top and led his vibranium hand to your breast, moaning as a cold metal thumb brushed against your nipple. You kept him trapped beneath you, your hands on his chest, holding him down, as if you really thought that you could restrain him. But Bucky let you, he stayed exactly where you wanted him, letting you take what you needed from him.
Your moans got wilder and more desperate, his name slipping from your lips over and over again as you neared orgasm. His flesh hand gripped your hip as he continued to grind up against you, letting out little grunt and groans of his own as he stared up at you through the gloom.
As you came you felt his cock twitch between your thighs and heard his own gasped moan, and you realised that he’d come too.
You collapsed on top of him, your body trembling from your release, slick now coating your thighs and his, and something else, something soaking through Bucky’s boxers. Sprawled against his chest, you buried your face against his neck, breathing in his scent, and clinging to him, not willing to let go. Bucky’s arms wrapped tight around you, holding you as you shook and shivered, and finally fell asleep again.
End Note : Anyone who doesn't read my Billy Russo fics, and didn't see me mention it there, I just want to give a heads up that I broke a key off my laptop (the T key for anyone interested) so I'm having to use a laggy bluetooth keyboard to write atm. Sorry if any weird typos have slipped through, it's probably because of the keyboard. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter!!
And thanks so much for the likes/comments/reblogs on the last chapter, it really means a lot to me!
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