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sarahowritesostucky · 1 year ago

Text

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 4861

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

11. Palmiers

Bucky

Because he’s on the far end of the spectrum, Bucky’s sex drive is affected by his condition. He wakes up hard almost every morning of his life, and Steve doesn’t need much encouragement to get himself worked up into the same state very quickly. Mutual morning jerk offs were always bound to become part of their routine.

They take a shower and stand toe to toe, hands sliding and groping all over each others’ slick bodies, pulling on their cocks until both of them are shooting off against each other’s bellies. The water washes it away, and Steve gives him a deep, happy kiss. “Mmm. Mornin’.”

“Blegch. Go brush your teeth, you heathen.”

Steve laughs and gets out of the shower. Bucky stays in for a few minutes longer, adjusting the spray to its hardest setting and letting the hot water beat down on his back and shoulders. He sighs and stretches his neck this way and that, trying to get his vertebrae to pop, but his muscles are all too tight, and the stretching just seems to make it worse. Bucky drops his head in defeat. In all honesty, his shoulders and neck and back are all pretty fucked after months of near-constant use of his prosthetic.

Steve’s right: he doesn’t usually wear it this much. And he’s also right that Bucky’s been wearing it all day every day because he wants to feel powerful and able bodied in front of Mary. As per usual, Steve is the first one to have noticed what maladaptive behavior pattern he’s doing and why, and pointed it out to him. It really is for the best, Bucky knows. Because he can’t sustain wearing the arm all the time anymore. The thing is just too damn heavy.

The engineers who designed it have made tweaks and adjustments over the years. They’ve done all they can to lighten the load as much as possible, but the thing still weighs over twenty pounds. Twenty pounds doesn’t sound like much, but when it’s pulling on the same muscle groups day in and day out, everything in Bucky’s body winds up getting strained and unbalanced. He understands better now, how women fuck up their necks so badly from shouldering their purses (or their tits) around. A little bit of weight makes a big difference.

As a Dom, Bucky may have a tiny problem admitting when he needs help. He has to be in quite a bit of pain, trouble, or both, before he’ll ever speak up and allow himself to be vulnerable like that. It’s an inherent behavior that shrinks have been trying to therapize and medicate out of him since he was a kid, but nothing ever changed it much. Falling in love with Steve helped; Bucky can let himself be more vulnerable around him. But even still, it’s no small thing that he regularly approaches his husband to ask for help in getting his arm back on correctly (Bucky can do it, but it’s a pain in the ass, getting the mechanism lined up just right before it’ll take).

He gets out of the shower and dries off, then approaches Steve with the prosthesis. “Gimme a hand?”

Steve makes a cheerful noise of acknowledgement around his mouthful of toothpaste, spits and rinses, then takes the arm from Bucky. He lines it up just so, and then Bucky feels the deep shudder of the arm’s inner workings coming to life as they recognize their mate. The arm attaches and Steve lets go.

“Thanks babe.”

“Uh huh.”

It’s as Bucky’s bending over and pulling up his underwear and joggers that a spasm runs through his back and he cries out in a pained, “Ah!”

“Babe? What’s wrong?”

Gritting his teeth, Bucky slowly stands back up. He’s able to get his pants up, but when he tests the movement of his neck and shoulders, the pain flares again. It feels like everything between the base of his skull and his mid back is seizing up. “Fuck,” he hisses, frustrated. It’s his day off. He’d been planning to go to the gym for his long workout.

Steve steps up and puts a worried hand on his left shoulder. “Babe? Do you need it off?”

“No. I need some painkillers and a magnesium tablet,” he grunts, already turning around (full body, because turning his head is a bad idea right now). “Fuck.” He starts off for the kitchen.

Steve follows along with worried protests, telling him to lay his “stubborn ass” down and he’ll get it for him. Bucky ignores him and goes to the kitchen cabinet where they keep their supplement stuff. He winds up yelling again when he tries to reach up and grab the ibuprofen. “Fuck!” he says angrily.

“Babe, I said to let me do it,” Steve scolds, his hand back on Bucky’s shoulder. “And let me take this off. It’s hurting you.”

“Steve, back off,” he snaps, angry and waspish from being in pain, and from being frustrated with his own goddamn body.

“What’s going on?”

Bucky turns his head without thinking, hisses in pain, and then turns himself full-body to face in Mary’s direction. She’s standing there looking at the two of them in concern, one hand holding one of those swirly, flaky, crack-cookies that she makes, and the other holding a cup of tea. Her eyes widen at the sight of Bucky’s arm and body, reminding him that this is the first time she’s seen him without a shirt on. “Nothin’,” Bucky grunts.

“Shit,” she says. “Are you guys fighting? Is this a couples’ fight? I’ll just …” She turns to leave back towards her room.

“We’re not fighting,” Steve says. “Buck’s just being an ass. He gets that way when he’s in pain.”

Bucky would turn his head to glare at him, but it isn’t worth another flair of agony in his shoulder. “I’m fine,” he says, when Mary comes back over. “It’s fine,” he stresses. He opens the pill bottle and dumps three capsules into his palm. “Jeez, will everybody stop babying me? I just need a glass of water.”

“I’ll get it,” Steve says, causing Bucky to huff once again. “Don’t be a jerk, babe.”

“Why are you in pain?” Mary asks, her eyes tracing all over the left side of Bucky’s scarred up body. “Is it … does your arm hurt?”

“No. It just fucks up my muscles, sometimes.”

“Your muscles?”

Bucky sighs impatiently. “Steve, do you know where the heating pad is?”

“I’ll have to look.” Steve has returned with a glass of water, and Bucky tosses back the handful of pills, wincing at how even the slight motion of raising his arm up makes his trap twinge in protest. “Ugh.”

“You should get a massage,” Mary suggests, and Bucky fights not to lash out at her. She doesn’t know that one of his biggest pet peeves in life is having other people tell him what he “should” do.

“My PT maxed out back in October,” he tells her. “Doesn’t renew again till January.”

Steve takes the water glass from him once he’s done. “Go lie face down on the bed,” he murmurs. “I’ll find the heating pad.”

“Well I could do it,” Mary blurts out. Both Bucky and Steve pause and look at her. She looks surprised, too, as though she hadn’t been planning to say the words until they were out of her mouth, and now doesn’t know how to continue “Um, that is ..." she gestures weakly with her cookie. “I just meant I know how to, if you wanted.” Eventually her cheeks color and she looks away. “Erm, Nevermind.”

“Wait,” Steve says. When Mary turns back, he’s looking at her earnestly, and Bucky thinks, Oh no. “You know how to give a back massage? Like a real one?”

“Yeah. My, ah, my ex always had neck problems, so.” She shrugs, looking embarrassed. “I took a class at the community college, learned the basics.”

Bucky blinks. That’s the subbiest fucking thing he’s ever heard. “You did this for the husband that beat you?” he drawls, immediately regretting it because it comes out sounding way more derogatory than he intends it to. “Sorry. I just … actually would pay good money for a massage right now. If you know how to do it.”

Mary bites her lip, looking deliciously shy and sweet. Bucky’s mood sours as he realizes that she doesn’t really want to. He’s about to let her off the hook, but then some unconscious movement he makes without meaning to has him flinching in pain again. “Sheezus,” he complains.

“It’s not usually this bad,” Steve worries.

“I must’a slept on it wrong.”

Mary nods, as if this settles it. “Okay. Well, go in the bedroom and tie your hair up so it's out of the way.” She turns to Steve, all but dismissing Bucky now that she’s got a task to complete. Bucky fights back an amused smirk as he heads towards the bedroom, and he hears Mary bossing Steve around, telling him she needs dry oil, the heating pad, towels, and all the seat cushions off the couch.

The fuck does she need those for? Bucky thinks as he pads back into his and Steve’s room.

He finds out a moment later, when Mary and Steve come in with a couch cushion each, and Steve goes back out to get another. They lay them in a line on the bed, and Mary directs Bucky to lie on top of them, with his body placed just so and his face down just there, and … Oh. He gets it.

She’s left space between the cushion under Bucky’s chest, and the next cushion up, which supports his forehead. The gap creates a drop through for his face—like a massage table. And when she shapes the towel into a donut shape and sticks it there, it's pretty much perfect.

“Oh,” Bucky says, as he’s settling into place. “Oh, that’s actually really smart.” He can’t see Mary from his position, but somehow he senses her preening over the praise anyway. Steve returns from the bathroom with the heating pad and oil. “Found this stuffed in the back of the linen closet. I don’t know what ‘jojoba’ is, but, um … it’s either that or the virgin olive out in the pantry.”

“Do not use that,” Bucky grumbles. “Shit’s expensive, and I don’t wanna smell like garlic truffle for the next three days.”

“That’ll work fine.” Mary is totally task focused, ignoring Bucky’s surliness and telling Steve to apply the heating pad across Bucky’s shoulders and neck for thirty minutes before they get started.

“Thirty minutes?!” Bucky complains, unable to see anything but the top of the bedcovers as the two of them go out into the hallway.

“Just relax, Babe,” Steve says (and if Bucky isn’t mistaken, he sounds amused). “Take a nap.”

“I just woke up!” He scoffs at the bedspread when the door quietly ‘snicks’ shut and he realizes that he’s been abandoned. “Well okay then,” he mutters petulantly. Steve is right: he does turn into an ass when he’s in pain. Hmm. Maybe he should work on that.

Steve

Steve turns the tv onto a low volume so they can talk without Bucky hearing. “Sorry about him,” he says. “He’s a humongous jerk whenever he’s feeling crummy.”

“You mean it’s not just all the time?” Mary drawls.

“He’s … just one of those people you have to learn to love before you like them.” Mary raises an eyebrow, and Steve winces. “Er, that sounded harsh. Don’t tell him I said that.”

She twists her lips and looks down. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks, Hon. You want more tea?”

“Yes please. There’s more of the palmiers in a baggie next to the coffee pot, if you want any.”

“Heck yeah, I love those things.” Steve had thought the prepackaged ones at Starbucks were good, hadn’t even realized that they weren’t supposed to be all stale and hard like that. Just another commercialized pastry that Mary’s gone and ruined him for. He goes into the kitchen and makes himself coffee and Mary tea, knowing by now how she takes it.

She thanks him silently as he returns and joins her on the couch, both of them sitting close to one another on the chaise, since it’s the only part of the couch that still has its cushion.

"Palmier is French. Know what else they call these?" Mary asks.

Steve's lips quirk. Mary's always got these little facts she knows about the origins of this pastry or that. It's cute. Endearing. "No," he plays along. "What?"

"Elephant ears, because of the shape, see?"

"Oh yeah. Huh. That's neat."

She goes back to eating and sipping at her teacup, and after a moment of unrequited, affectionate staring, Steve looks away. "Elephant ears," he murmurs, trying not to be mopey. "That's funny."

They split the palmiers between them, and aside from the sounds of them munching cookies and sipping their drinks, it’s quiet for a long time. Steve made both the tea and the coffee very hot, so they at least have the excuse of cradling and blowing on their steaming mugs to keep the silence from being too awkward. Mary keeps her eyes trained forward, but Steve gets the sense that she isn��t really paying attention to the home renovation program that’s playing on the tv. His suspicions are confirmed when she eventually asks,

“So: His arm.”

Steve inhales slowly. “Yeah. His arm.”

“What happened?”

Steve frowns. He can tell by her inflection that she’s asking not just about the arm, but about the state of Bucky’s entire left side from shoulder to hip. “We were in the army,” he confides. “Deployed overseas. I made captain young, but he was a specialist in the field: a sniper. So I wasn’t put into the same types of situations as he was. His convoy got blown up by an IED. And when the dust settled …” He shrugs. “No more arm.”

“Oh.” Mary sits there and absorbs that information. “I guess I kind of figured it was something like that. I mean what else is there, besides like, a shark attack or something?”

Steve’s mouth twitches. Shark attack, ha. He’ll have to suggest that one to Buck. Might be fun to lie about, the next time a stranger asks. “Naw, just a boring old bomb. And afterwards, well. It was a long road for him, after. He didn’t have the arm when I met him.”

Mary turns her head, surprised. “Oh. You two didn’t meet in the army?”

“No, after. I met him at the V.A., when he was already angry, hurt, and didn’t want to be where he was.” Steve looks over and gives her a meaningful look. “Kind of like when I first met you.”

Her eyes widen, and then her face colors and she looks away again, pulling her knees up and hunkering over her mug. “Was I really that bad?” she mumbles.

“... You were pretty bad, Honey.”

She frowns and doesn’t say anything, and Steve decides to leave it alone. “So yeah, his arm. He got into a program for experimental cybernetics. It was a big gamble. Back then, he still had his arm down to nearly the elbow, which meant he could use a lot of the different types of prostheses they had on the market. The less arm you have, the less they can do for you. The surgeries for the implant required removal all the way up to and including his left shoulder blade. So if he went through with it and the procedures didn’t work out, he’d be left with less function than he started with.”

“Jeez.”

“Hm, yeah. It was a risk.” Steve stares across the living room as he remembers all of the hospital stays and surgeries and revisions and therapy appointments. “Luckily it worked out. They replaced some bones with metal supports, some of his natural muscle with enhanced synthetic tissue. His body didn’t reject any of the junk they were putting in him, which was the biggest worry. All in all, it took five surgeries over the course of three years, and then a shit ton of physiotherapy. Buck says it was worth it, now, but it wasn’t a walk in the park when it was happening, I’ll tell you that.”

Beside him, Mary makes a sad little noise in her throat. “But … all that and it still gives him pain?”

“Yeah. He gets PT for it, but like he said; it never winds up lasting the full year. I force him to my veterans' support group when I can, but he’s gotta be in a really charitable mood for that.” Steve snorts humorlessly. “He’s always hated being disabled. It doesn’t jive with his DPD. You know that stereotype about men: never wanting to stop and ask for directions?”

“Yeah.”

"Well it's true. And then you take a guy who’s as far on the spectrum as Bucky is, and it’s ten times worse.” He widens his eyes in emphasis and gets a little giggle out of Mary for it, which makes him warm with pride. He pulls his feet up onto the couch next to Mary’s and nudges her knee with his. “Just fair warning: He’s the worst patient I’ve ever seen. So don’t take it personally if he’s grumpy at you in there.”

Mary frowns and looks away. “Well, I mean I don’t have to do this. If he doesn’t want to.”

“Pretty sure he wants to. And he needs help with it, whether his stubborn ass wants to admit it or not.”

She nods, though she still doesn’t look confident. “It’s been over a year since I worked on anybody …”

“Well then this’ll be good practice for you, won’t it?” Steve nudges her again in encouragement and tells her to finish up her tea: He doesn’t expect Bucky’ll lie around patiently for much longer.

(“Oh, and Hon, maybe don’t tell him we were out here talking about him this whole time.”)

(“Duh.”)

In the bedroom, Mary climbs onto the bed next to where Bucky is laid out on the couch cushions. She takes the heating pad off his neck and puts it aside, looking nervously over the broad expanse of his back. “Um …” She reaches for the oil bottle and pumps some into her hands. She spends a long, long time just spreading it between her hands and staring at Bucky, until finally he snaps,

“What’s the holdup?”

“Babe, be nice,” Steve warns. “Mary? You need anything?”

“Um, no. It’s just … usually I'd ..." She makes an aborted move, like she's thinking about repositioning herself, but winds up staying where she is. "Right," she mutters to herself. "This'll work fine." She reaches forward like she’ll start rubbing Bucky’s back, hesitates, shuffles closer to his side, then sets her hands on his shoulders.

Bucky doesn’t so much as twitch, but he’s not used to new people touching him, and Steve would bet money that his eyes are clenched shut right now.

“Okay,” Mary warns. “I haven’t done this in awhile, so don’t get your hopes up for a miracle or anything.”

“Anything’ll be better than what I can do myself,” Bucky says gruffly, voice somewhat muffled by the cushions. “Just go to town. You can’t hurt me any worse.”

Steve can see Mary’s face, and he knows by now what she looks like when she’s flustered. Awkwardly, he steps to the side, heading for the door. “I’ll just go watch some—”

“No!” Mary squeaks, and when Steve turns back around she’s looking at him with wide eyes. “Don’t leave,” she says, like being left alone touching Bucky is the worst possible thing that could happen. Steve doesn’t miss how the muscles in Bucky’s arms do tense at hearing her plead for Steve to stay.

“Uhm, okay. I’ll just … be over here.” He leans back against the dresser, feeling almost painfully awkward. Once again, he’s reminded how Mary has shown absolutely no desire to engage in sexual contact with them. He hopes she doesn’t think this is a ploy to force physical contact. She was the one who suggested it, after all.

She starts at the base of Bucky’s skull, rubbing her thumbs in small circles. “As I go along, try to tell me which areas feel the worst,” she murmurs, and Bucky hums in acknowledgement. Steve watches as she pushes and circles and kneads Bucky’s neck, working down on into his shoulders. He’s struck by how feminine and tiny her hands look against Bucky’s body … and then has to steer his mind away from the thought of how tiny they might look in other places.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky gasps, when she reaches a certain spot on the left side of his neck.

She freezes. “Bad?”

“Nngh. Good,” he slurs. “That whole area from there goin’ down into my back ‘n all around my shoulder blade is where it’s worst.”

“Okay.” She tentatively presses around in and around the left side of his neck and shoulder. “Oh, yeah. It starts right here and goes down.” She slides her hand down the muscle and hums. “Oh, I can feel it.”

(Steve tries really hard not to think sexual thoughts.)

“Riiight here? and … here?"

Between the cushions, Bucky’s voice comes out in a series of garbled moans.

“That’d be a yes,” Steve interprets, and Mary actually shoots him a grin at that. Glad to have cut the tension a bit, he dares to take a few steps closer to the bed. He peers down at what Mary’s doing, the way her fingers dig in at sharp, focused points in some places and rub more gently in others. “It’s your trap that’s the worst,” she mutters distractedly, feeling around with her hands and staring off into space with the tip of her tongue poking out at the corner of her mouth. It’s cute. “Mmm, but probably your levator scapulae, too. Those tend to get fucked up hand in hand.”

“Mmrr.”

“And here: your rhomboid.”

“Ooh!”

“Tender?”

“Shuyeahhh,” Bucky grunts, then his breath hitches when she digs into another spot. “Oh, yep yep right there. Was’that?”

Steve can’t help but grin. Bucky sounds like he’s drooling at this point.

“Your trapezius muscle. It's big. Does a lot of work, covers a large area. Probably the main offender.” Mary hums and feels around a little more. “Oof, yeah. You’ve got a whole bunch of tension right here.”

“You can feel it?” Steve asks, fascinated. He can't see anything.

“Yeah. Here, gimme your hand.” Steve is taken aback when she grabs his hand and guides his fingers into place, her own smaller hand pressing down. “Riiight there. You feel it?”

Steve swallows thickly. “Ah, yeah.” His eyes flick from her hand on his hand on Bucky’s back, up to her face, and back again before she can catch him looking. “Y-yeah it’s hard.” He grimaces at his choice of words (If he's not careful, "it" soon will be).

“I’m gonna focus on this one for a few minutes,” Mary tells Bucky. Then you can guide me around to the other bad spots.”

“Sounds good,” he slurs. Steve is about to take a step back again, but then Bucky calls out, “Hey Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Pay attention to what she’s doin’. It feels really fuckin’ good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. You can learn n' do it next time,” he says dreamily. On his back, Mary’s hands still for the briefest of seconds. “S’goood.”

Steve nods and comes back to sit on the bed. “Okay,” he agrees, scooting in close and glancing at Mary. Her face looks pinched all of a sudden, her expression stiffened as if in annoyance. “I promise I’m not as dumb as I look,” he jokes, and watches as her face smooths out and she smiles a little.

“Oh! Oh no it’s … it’s okay, I don’t mind. I’ll teach you how.”

“Don’t mind me, m’just a teaching tool,” Bucky drawls, and Steve laughs and pats his shoulder.

“Yeah you are. So shut up and let her teach.”

Bucky grunts and shuts up. Steve looks to Mary for instruction. He can tell she’s uncomfortable, but she manages to hide it well and keep herself on track. The more he pays attention, the sooner she can get herself out of this and never have to do it again. “Ready to learn,” he tells her.

“Now when you’re doing this, you can get more leverage if you straddle his waist.” She says this like it’s a foregone assumption that she would never dare to sit on Bucky’s waist, and Steve is sure she doesn’t notice the grumpy huff of breath Bucky gives.

“Right,” Steve says, pained. “Okay, so where are the bad spots again?”

“Put your hand here.” She takes his hand again and places it just to the left of Bucky’s spine at the level of his shoulder blade. “Slide your fingers out. There. Feel that difference? Feel how it changes when you move out to just … there?” She guides his fingers, and Steve nods.

“Y-yeah.” Mostly, he’s just thinking about how nice Mary’s warm, oiled, tiny hand feels guiding his hand around. “Yeah.”

“The trap’s on top, but there are other muscles underneath of this one, and that differentiation you feel is where the rhomboid is ending and the—”

She keeps talking, and Steve tries to pay attention and learn, he really does. But his mind is a veritable sieve, for how well he retains the information. It’s all in one ear and out the other, ninety percent of his attention stuck on Mary’s hands on him, guiding him, pressing on his fingers and gliding his touch over Bucky’s skin. Fuck, how did they wind up here?

Eventually, having taught Steve the basics, Mary lets him go and works on Bucky’s shoulders for a little while more. For the most part it’s quiet, with Bucky making soft grunts of pain whenever she finds a new cluster of knotted muscle, and sighs of relief once she works them out.

Her hands linger on Bucky’s mid back when she’s done. She doesn’t seem to know what to do. “Erm. Okay. I think … I think that’s it.”

When neither Bucky nor Steve says anything, she retreats on her own, getting off the bed and looking between Bucky’s prone form and Steve’s sorrowful expression. “So, kay. You can get up, if you want. Just move slowly.”

Bucky’s right hand gives her the thumbs up symbol, but the entire rest of his body doesn’t move. “Thanks Mare. Just give us a second. That was really good. Thank you. Thanks for teaching Steve.”

It’s the “Thanks for teaching Steve” that seems to do it. Mary’s expression firms up and she nods curtly, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. Steve stays sitting on the bed next to Bucky in silence for a long minute, then says knowingly, “Got a boner?”

“Yep.”

*To anyone who's only ever had store bought, pre-packaged palmiers: I'm so sorry. Along with Madeleines, those should never be eaten more than a few hours max after they've been baked.

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howtodrawyourdragon · 11 months ago

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For someone so small, Hiccup sure had a lot to say and he was willing to do anything to be heard. Luckily for him, Toothless was more than willing to listen. Always intrigued to find out what the fairy with the torn wings had to say. His ability to fly may have been stolen from him- something Toothless can relate to- but his will to live has remained intact. Together, they found a way back.

Written and drawn for the Any Fandom Fluff Bingo. I had SO MUCH FUN doing this one!

-XOXOX-

Please do not repost or misuse my art in anyway.

#any fandom fluff bingo #httyd fanart #httyd movies #httyd 2 #how to train your dragon 2 #rtte #race to the edge #au #alternate universe #fairy au #hiccup haddock #fairy!hiccup #faery!hiccup #faerie!hiccup #fey!hiccup #toothless #hicctooth #my art

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voiceoffenrisulfr · 2 months ago

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Paws for Applause - Chapter Four Drever

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> James "Bucky" Barnes(&) x Original Nonbinary Character(&) (Soldierbug&, pluralpoly)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> The boys begin to open up, and a storm is coming.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 6358

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (T) Mentions of abuse and trauma, nightmares.

𝐀/𝐍 -> Check it out below, or on AO3 here! Dividers by us! Cards at the end <3

<- Chapter Three Chapter Five ->

Prompts at end because there's a lot siesefesfjsef

I woke slowly, blinking my way into consciousness with a flickering of eyelashes and a prolonged stretch. The cotton beneath my cheek was sleep-warmed and softened with age, and I let out a quiet sigh, burrowing deeper into the material, reluctant to face the sunlight.

“Good morning, Темнота.” Gentle fingers caressed my hair, and I blushed, hiding a smile in their shirt.

“Hi,” I whispered, embarrassed at having been caught so vulnerable, but happy with the situation in which I’d found myself. I glanced up at them through my lashes, finding them grinning affectionately down at me, one arm still tight around me, their cell in their other hand. “Did you sleep at all? I hope you didn’t stay up all night ‘cause of me…”

The chuckled softly, offering me a gentle squeeze. “I slept, don’t worry. You cuddle in pretty well; I don’t think I could’ve stayed awake if I’d wanted to!” They lapsed into silence once more, fingers teasing my hair, and I purred, watching them closely.

“… Whatcha doing?” I asked as I tracked their eyes skimming over their screen, blushing at my nosiness. “Not that you… I mean, you don’t gotta tell me. Obviously.”

With a snort, they rested their cheek on my hair. “Reading. It’s about fairy tales, folklore… It’s interesting!”

I smiled and nestled closer, yawning widely. “Will you read to me?”

Their cheeks pinkened minutely, but they nodded, clearing their throat uncertainly.

“Come away, O, human child! To the woods and waters wild, With a fairy hand in hand, For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand…”

My eyes closed of their own volition as I burrowed in, fingers curling in their shirt to hold myself nearer, and they paused. “… Wanna go and settle in on the bed? You might be more comfortable…”

My nod was subtle but sure; this strange person who had appeared quite without warning in our lives and shook up everything we thought we knew was an unexplainable tranquiliser, soothing my soul and calming my mind.

I trusted them without hesitation.

Despite the anxiety warring in my head, Winter and Bucky murmuring their concerns, I allowed Mars to manoeuvre me gently into position between the sheets. My hand shot out instinctively as they went to back away, eyes low. “Will you stay with me?” I whispered, and they paused infinitesimally before nodding, sliding in beside me and wrapping an arm around me as my head found their chest.

I let out a quiet, contented sigh, curling into their side, their cheek resting lightly on my hair.

“Where the wandering water gushes,” they continued, their melodic, friendly tone a balm to the ragged edges of my psyche, “From the hills above Glen-Car, In pools among the rushes, That scarce could bathe a star…”

By the time I re-emerged from the darkness, the candle had gone out, and Mars was snoring lightly, their phone having fallen against their chest. With a soft smile, I gazed up at them in wonder, following the lines and curves of their open, honest face, enraptured.

Their long lashes fluttered and parted slowly, forehead creasing into a subtle scowl. “No flight checks…” they muttered, eyes closing once more, and I snorted aloud. One eye opened again, taking me in, and they smiled tiredly. “Hm?”

“‘Flight checks’?” I repeated, biting back a giggle, and their cheeks turned pink.

“My get-up routine,” they clarified timidly, one side of their mouth rising in a shy grin. “I need an established series of tasks, or else I get distracted, and forget to do… Well, anything that needs doing, really…”

I hummed and nodded thoughtfully, head cocking slightly against their shoulder. “I think Bucky could use something like that…” I mused, grinning as he snorted in the back of my mind, though quickly murmuring his agreement. “He gets distracted pretty easily.”

“I know the feeling,” they replied, chuckling, and let out a long stretch, groaning aloud. “Alright… As much as I love a good lazy Sunday, I do actually have a few responsibilities to attend to, even if the store’s not open.”

“Gross,” I replied, grinning, but sat up obediently to let them free.

“You, uh… You can come with. If you like,” they added quickly, blushing once more. My own cheeks flushed as I nodded shyly, looking away to pet Zeus as a distraction for my embarrassment.

“I’d like that,” I replied timidly, almost overheating from the scalding blush in my face, and they broke into a broad grin.

Zeus was already beginning to learn the path to the store, and the realisation made me giggle as he fought to drag me along, Mars chuckling fondly. “We really need to start on some training with him, huh?” they mused, head cocked.

“Maybe,” I agreed, squealing with laughter as his feet scrabbled against the ground eagerly. “But he’s so happy!”

“I think he’ll maybe be happier when getting to the end of the street doesn’t exhaust him,” they countered, laughing, and I grinned back, glancing back at the mastiff mix as he relaxed at the end of the leash, panting heavily from his fight against an immovable force. He stopped to sniff every bush and post and blade of grass as we continued, having resigned his war against restraint – for now – and peeing prolifically. I could only shake my head fondly, letting the joyful hound stop and start as he saw fit, so thoroughly absorbed in his inexplicable canid behaviours that I hardly noticed when Mars came to a halt, watching us with their head cocked, smiling fondly.

“Are you two coming with me, or heading for the border?” they teased, eyes alight with humour as I skidded to a sheepish stop.

“Oops,” I offered, shrugging shyly – but they simply laughed and shook their head, leading the way up to the side door of the store.

“I’m sorry in advance,” they offered, grimacing. “It’s a little… Chaotic, in here…”

I waved a hand as I followed them up a dim staircase, making a soft sound of objection. “Trust me, I’ve seen worse.”

Their space was a continuation of the store downstairs, punctuated by the calls and whistles of several birds perched around the room, eyeing me with suspicion.

Recalling the green gremlin that had dive-bombed me the first time I visited Paws, I eyed them right back, apprehensive.

Mars caught me watching them and let out a laugh, shaking their head. “They’ll leave you be. They’re not all like Denzel,” they added, glaring with undisguised affection at the lime-coloured creature sat atop the bookcase with a look of pride. When it wasn’t aiming for my face, the relatively small bird – particularly in comparison to the towering macaw beside it – looked almost elegant, pale green fading into deep emerald along wings and head, interrupted only by a black and pink band around the neck and a vibrantly red beak.

And then it squawked definitely, and I jumped.

“Seems… Sociable,” I replied, eyes narrowed warily, earning another fond chuckle.

“He’s a baby, really. Wanna meet him?”

I glanced at the bird uncertainly, opening my mouth to reply.

“Sure,” I agreed, grinning broadly as I took in the delightfully chaotic featherball. “I’d love to!”

A ripple of surprise flickered over their face, then they lit up, letting out a low whistle. “Dezzie!”

The bird let out an unholy series of shrieks before catapulting itself bodily across the room, wings moving in a blur. I couldn’t help but admire the way his back arched as he landed, gracefully tucking his feet forward to latch himself onto Mars’ shoulder. My fingers reached out of their own accord, curling away at the last moment with a blush. They offered me a reassuring smile, raising their own hand to rub the side of the bird’s head, chuckling when he leant into the touch. “You can pet him. He won’t bite.”

Slowly, hesitantly, I extended my hand once more to the fragile creature. I’m not concerned about him hurting me…

The back of my fingers brushed theirs as I skimmed my tentative touch over the delicate plumage, heat rising in Mars’s cheeks. But I was too busy to notice, enraptured by the way the creature pressed into my hand, chirruping quietly.

When he turned his head and stepped up into the space between thumb and forefinger, my chest ached with joy. I couldn’t help the delighted chuckle that escaped me, blinking in surprise. Mars stepped back a little, leaving me supporting my new feathered friend, and I hesitantly drew him closer, raising metal fingers to continue caressing his chest gently.

“Looks like you’ve got a fan, Winter,” Mars teased affectionately, and I blushed, head ducking.

“You recognise me?” I clarified, and they laughed, making the bird open one eye and glare at the interruption.

“Of course! Firstly, Dezzie here scares the crap out of Bucky. Secondly… You’re not as similar as you might think.” Their eyes narrowed a little as they considered me, quiet and thoughtful. “You’re like… The sun and the moon. Same general category, but distinct and unique.”

I chuckled softly, flicking my gaze to theirs. “You think?” They nodded firmly, and I smiled, looking back to the creature perched on my hand, his eyes closed with joy. “I… Thank you.”

With a nod, they glanced around. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable. I have a few… Dozen critters to feed, then I’ll be with you.”

I was happy to recline on their sofa, Denzel exploring my clothes and a cat curled up beside me, licking my hand with enthusiasm and pausing only long enough to hiss a warning as Zeus rested his nose on the seat beside him, earning a chuckle and an eyeroll from Mars as they passed by.

“She’s fine. She’s incredibly dog-savvy; she’s just making sure he knows who’s the boss!” they snorted, shaking their head fondly. Zeus sniffed the cat tentatively, the latter of which had returned to purring and licking, tail thumping with interest before he trotted away, distracted by Mars’ movements and the bag of bird seed they carried.

I let out a soft chuckle, one hand smoothing the sleek, patchwork fur of the cat’s anguine spine. “He likes you,” I noted, smiling fondly at the shadow diligently following them around the apartment as they attended to their feathered dependents.

“Or he likes that I’ve got chicken in my pocket for him,” they countered with a snort, dropping the bag beside the last of the cages. “C’mon, pup. Let’s see what you can do, hm?”

Zeus followed them obligingly, a thick strand of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth as they led the way over to sit beside me, perching on the edge of the sofa to avoid the cat languidly enjoying her petting. Despite the empty-headed expression, the dog’s eyes were focused wholeheartedly on Mars, watching for any indication as to food that may be heading his way. “Alright, Zeus. Let’s do you a little test, hm? See where you’re starting. Can you… Sit?”

The enormous behind hit the ground immediately and with an audible whump, and I laughed. “I think he’s got that one down,” I teased as they praised him, the mighty jaws working around their fingers as he took a scrap of chicken. They simply smiled and nodded, offering him a gentle scratch under the chin.

“He’s a smart boy,” they agreed, crooning closer to him and squeaking with surprise when a large tongue trailed the length of their cheek, earning a snort and a fond shake of my head. Wiping their sleeve across their face with an overdramatic shudder, they refocused, eyes on his. “Okay, okay. How about… Down?” Their hand lowered a little, and Zeus dropped obediently, settling against the ground in a heartbeat. “Yes! Good boy!” He earned another treat for his efforts, and Mars shot me a broad grin.

“He’s deceptive,” I replied with a chuckle, the dog’s huge, open maw giving him a decidedly mindless expression, and reached over to give him a scratch of my own. “A smart boy, aren’t you, huh?”

“He takes after his dads!” Mars replied, then blushed timidly when I glanced at them, smirking. “I- Uh… Let’s keep going, shall we?”

By the time their stomach began to rumble audibly, Mars and I had come up with a plan of action of sorts, based on the things we’d concluded Zeus knew well.

“So, first and foremost, he needs some leash manners,” they noted, eyeing the dog wagging by their hip with faux sternness. “He might not pull you over, but if anyone else ever has to hold him, he’s going to pull their arm off at the moment. Not to mention the damage he could do to himself in the long-term.”

I hummed my agreement, fingers toying with one of his soft ears idly. “I… Will you help us?” I murmured, blushing timidly as my head ducked, and they chuckled.

“Of course… Темнота,” they added, elbowing me gently and grinning.

I blushed harder, squatting to busy myself with Zeus’ only-too-willing attention. “How did you know?”

They chuckled, smiling softly when I glanced up through my lashes. “It’s like Winter said. You’re… Sweet.” My cheeks flamed, and their grin grew. “But yes – I’d be honoured to help.”

“We can pay,” I added quickly, and they started to shake their head, but I raised a hand imploringly. “Money isn’t really an issue.”

“I’ve seen your apartment,” they replied, eyebrow arching in disbelief, before they paled, horrified. “I m- I didn- I-”

I simply laughed, shaking my head. “I get it. But it’s not a financial thing, we just…” I shrugged a shoulder, lowering my gaze to my dog’s once more. “I don’t know. Didn’t want to get too comfortable, I guess.”

“Why?”

It was asked gently and without judgement, but still I stiffened, muscles becoming clumsy and terse. Because I don’t deserve comfort.

Because I’m a hero killer.

Because I don’t deserve to be treated like more than I am.

“Not sure how long I’ll be around,” I replied eventually, chewing on my lip quietly. “I might have to move on before too long.” When they didn’t reply, I sighed, settling myself on the ground and smoothing a hand along his neck falteringly. “I... Need to stay ahead of certain people. I may need to move on quite quickly.”

“Are you running from the law or something?” they asked softly, squatting beside me, and I shrugged a shoulder.

“There’s probably more than one government out there who would love to make us disappear. But... No. Not this time.” Quietly, I trailed my finger along the edge of the white blaze down Zeus’ chest, the short, soft fur grounding me. “We’ve done some real bad things in our time. Some of those things... Well, they only recently came to light. The folks affected by them weren’t very happy. It’s best if we keep ourselves ready. Never settling, you know? Always ready to move, if we need to.”

They nodded once in response, considering me quietly. “… I know about you, you know.” I looked up in surprise, and they offered me a soft, sad smile. “Well, about y’all. The singlet that society sees you as, I mean. The Soldier.” I winced, and their hand found my shoulder gently as my head ducked once more. “There’s… Stories, and stuff. I’m sure they don’t do justice to what y’all really went through, but… They make it more than understandable that you were forced to do things that you wouldn’t have done otherwise. By all accounts, you were – you are – a good person. Good people, I mean. Captain America has always been very vocal about-”

“Yeah, Steve’s good people,” I interrupted smoothly, jaw setting as I stood. “But he doesn’t know me – he knows Bucky. I’m the man that HYDRA created, and I am not a good person. I did those things, and I didn’t care while I did them.”

“And now?” they interjected quietly, unfaltering in the face of my sudden appearance and vehement disagreement. “You were trained and conditioned from the moment you existed, Win. But now you know more of this world, and of yourself. Do you care now?”

I blinked hard and lowered my gaze, the stiffness of my muscles draining with my stubbornness. “I… Yes,” I whispered, eyes closing. “Yes. I do.”

Their touch found my arm again, gentle and reassuring. “Because you, like the other two, are a good man, Winter.”

I blushed a little, shooting them a half-grin. “I guess I try,” I offered sheepishly, shrugging a vibranium shoulder. “But hey – how about this good man cooks you a good meal, to say thanks?”

They groaned their way through their meal, eyes alight and shining. They’d reluctantly allowed me to take over their kitchen at my insistence, stammering as I purchased the ingredients with a wave of my hand.

“Like I said – money isn’t an issue,” I replied simply, shrugging. They’d mumbled their red-faced thanks, occupying the apartment’s furry and feathered inhabitants while I cooked – with Buck’s help, given my inexperience.

They’d eyed and subtly poked at the dumplings uncertainly, somewhat dubious, but the aromas filling the room – and doubtless a desire to appear polite – led to their breaking open a single pelmen, considering the filling of ground meat silently, unable to keep themselves from inhaling deeply. “I won’t be offended if you don’t like it,” I assured them with a grin, chuckling as their expression flickered with relief. Slowly, hesitantly, they took a small bite; they dissolved immediately into quiet groans, the rest of the dumpling disappearing between their lips quickly.

“Holy shit.”

Snorting, I shook my head affectionately, beginning my meal with rather a more restrained manner. “Good?”

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” they grunted, before shooting me a timid grin around bulging cheeks. “Sorry. Beautiful, I know.”

“You’re exquisite,” I replied softly, grinning when their cheeks flamed and they swallowed with difficulty. “But thank you. It’s my favourite thing in the world. I don’t remember where I learned the recipe, but…” Shaking my head lightly, I shrugged a shoulder, considering one of my creations. “I’ve been making it for years. It’s warm, and filling, and comfortable.”

They nodded vigorously, eagerly tucking into the contents of their plate. “It’s delicious, Win. Do you make it often?”

“Not as often as I’d like,” I admitted, eating slowly. I was too lost in them, in the way they could enjoy something so simple as this staple, making soft sounds of delight at the seemingly wonderous new experience. I – we - hadn’t felt such pleasure in almost a century, though I found myself settling into the company, the warm, scent-wreathed room lulling my mind and allowing my muscles to unclench slightly.

“Why not? You clearly love it,” they added, indicating their head at the faint smile tugging at my lips, and I chuckled.

“I do,” I agreed, “but it’s hard to find the time. Or the motivation.”

They considered this for a moment, then blushed, lowering their gaze once more.

“It doesn’t pay so much, but I love it,” they gushed, leaning back in their seat. They’d talked endlessly about work when I’d asked, eyes bright with joy. “I’d far rather be happy than rich, you know? I can afford the things I need to, and that’s enough for me.”

I smiled fondly, nodding once. “That definitely sounds like an ideal way to live.”

“What about you?” they asked, hands folding over their stomach as they let out an overfed huff of air. “What’s next for you guys, now that you’re not in the team any more?”

My brow furrowed, and I looked away uncertainly.

What is next for us?

Is there a next?

Or is this our life now? Running from one bolt hole to the next, constantly looking over our shoulder?

Will we ever find peace?

Will we always be hunted?

A hand found mine, and I glanced back at my companion, blinking in surprise. “I’m sorry,” they murmured, their steady, dark gaze locked on mine. “That wasn’t very thoughtful of me...”

I shook my head once, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s okay. I guess I just... I don’t know the answer. I have no idea what we do next; for as long as we can remember, our only mission has been survival.” It was almost overwhelming to think about the variety of options spread before us, each just as attainable and uncomprehensible as the last. “There’s too many choices.”

They chuckled at that, squeezing my hand gently. “It’s a lot, I know. But you don’t have to decide right now, right?” Their spare hand found Zeus’ head, caressing lightly, and they shot him a grin. “I guess the only thing you need to decide tonight is when to go home.”

I don’t want to...

Despite myself, I couldn’t help humming my agreement, comfortable, warm and relaxed in their company. It would be

“Will you read again?” I asked quietly, biting my lip as a blush crept up my cheeks. Their eyes cut back to mine, glowing with warmth.

“I’d be happy to, Tem,” they agreed readily, and I felt my face heat further at the recognition, wondering if I’d ever get tired of being so transparently seen.

It took a moment for their words to sink in, and I paused, surprised. “... ‘Tem’?”

Colour rose in their own complexion, and their head cocked infinitesimally as they smiled. “Is that okay? If you don’t like it, I don’t-”

“No,” I interrupted quickly, joy fizzing under my skin as I grinned. “No... I like it.”

The rain started to come down as I sat beside them, soft at first, and then loud enough to almost drown out their voice as they read to me from a nature book, regaling me with facts about the Sulawesi Forest Turtle.

“They live in the streams in the forests on the island of Sulawesi, and are thought to be a vital part of their native ecosystem. In studies of their feces, scientists have found insect specimens as yet unidentified- hey, that’s really cool, huh? Isn’t it weird that they can-”

They cut themselves off as they darted to their feet, cursing under their breath as they stumbled and rousing me from my contented, transfixed state. Nonsensical mutters fell from their lips as they moved around, and I saw the cause of their concern - a steady stream of drips falling from the ceiling, spraying out over the floor as they landed. I was beside them in an instant, gazing up at the damage with concern.

“Don’t worry about it - it happens whenever there’s a storm,” they grumbled, dropping a mop bucket beneath the leak with a sigh. “I really need to get it fixed, but... Well, I can’t afford to pay anyone, and the last thing anyone needs is me up a ladder. I’m more likely to end up falling off the roof than mending it.”

“We can do it,” I offered immediately, unfalteringly, and they blushed.

“Thanks, but you-”

“Consider it a gift of gratitude,” I interrupted softly, reaching out to rest a hand on their arm gently. “Please. We’d like to.”

Their eyes met mine once more, and they blushed, looking down as they nodded. “I... Okay. Thanks, Tem.” The gaze locked on mine flickered, shifting to the metal fingers on their skin, and I winced, drawing back with an apologetic murmur, causing their eyes to widen in alarm. “No, no! I didn’t - it doesn’t bother me or anything, I just-” They grimaced at their own fumbling, pausing to gather their thoughts as they leant back against the counter. “I... I wondered who... How it... What happened? Not that you have to say,” they added quickly, turning ever more crimson.

I rested against my hip beside them, considering my metal joints as I thought about how to answer. “This exact edition is courtesy of a very intelligent young engineer in Wakanda,” I started, digits twitching. “But... I lost my arm falling from a train.”

They winced sympathetically, turning to face me more fully. “I can’t imagine how much that must have hurt...”

Shrugging, I looked away. “I didn’t know much about it until after. There were... I remember flashes, now and then. Moments during the removal of what was left, and the fitting of the joints and bones that would hold the metal one. Usually they’re out of reach when I’m awake, though,” I added.

A mercy.

The glimpses of blood and pain always seemed just beneath the surface, ready to come for us at the slightest provocation, holding us fast in their terror until our subconscious deemed us tortured enough to be released. No matter how many years passed, we still dreaded those nightmares and the memories they contained.

“Who did this to you?” they breathed, a look of horror flickering across their features, and I offered them a weak smile as thoughts of being tied down and cut open without as much as a shot to dull the pain.

“I was part of a military experiment run by HYDRA - so-called scientists who wanted to create super soldiers, like St- like Captain America,” I rectified quickly. We’d learnt long ago that most people found it odd to hear America’s Sweetheart referred to by his first name - though he’d always be a nerdy, skinny teenager to us, no matter how big he got. “I guess they were successful, in a way. Their technique wasn’t as finessed as Stark’s, but... Whatever they’d done to us when we’d been captured a few months before meant that we could survive that fall. Not that we often felt it a worthy trade-off,” I noted bitterly, earning a sympathetic hum.

“Does it hurt?” they whispered, and I closed my eyes briefly before responding.

“Every single second,” I replied quietly.

“Is there anything I can do?”

I blinked in surprise, gaze finding theirs once more, rendered silent by the question. “I... What?”

They shrugged shyly, fingers entwining in front of them. “Is there anything I can do - anything that might help?”

... We could-

No.

But-

No, Temnota. We don’t do that.

I jus-

Win’s right. We can’t - it’s not safe.

Reluctantly, I shook my head, the endless ache of damaged nerves throbbing along my chest more than ever at the tantalising opportunity for relief. “No... No. There’s nothing you can do.”

No matter how I fought it, I found myself inching closer to their side as evening faded into night, an age-worn blanket adorning our laps without my noticing. By the time I became aware of the encroaching darkness, we were all but huddled together, the winter chill driving us to seek warmth in one another.

They shot me a look as they lit a candle on the coffee table, an unreadable expression in the flickering light, and I cocked my head. “What is it?”

“I... The bottles.”

I opened my mouth to clarify, confused, then slowly closed it with a click as comprehension dawned. “Oh.”

“That- It was a lot of empty whisky, Tem...”

With a subtle grimace, I waved a hand. “It takes much more than that to have an effect on us, I promise. Zeus is safe, if that’s what you-”

“It’s not just Zeus I’m worried about,” they interjected softly, glancing at the dog snoring contentedly beside them. “I care about you guys, too.”

The intimacy of the soft, shimmering light kept the flush from my cheeks, but my eyes still dropped timidly, shy under their gaze. “I... It’s the only way we can sleep,” I admitted, my voice barely audible. “And even then, it’s not... We don’t... We don’t sleep much.”

They nodded slowly, expression thoughtful. “...Would you like to stay over?” I felt my eyes widen in surprise, and they paled. “I don’t- I’m n- I j-” They cleared their throat, cheeks vermillion in the low light, and started over. “You seemed to sleep pretty well when you weren’t alone. If ever you need some rest... I know this place isn’t much, but...”

Pausing, I chewed my lip, holding back my own answer reluctantly.

We shouldn’t.

Why not?

Do we really want to get them more involved in this mess?

It’s putting them at unnecessary risk.

But they’re right... I slept so much better with them...

That doesn’t matter, Tem.

It would be selfish to endanger them like that.

The rejection was gentle, but still it stung, and I found myself blinking back tears that threatened to spill as I shook my head slowly. “I... I can’t.”

“I’m not afraid of whatever demons you have, you know.”

Startled, I looked up, the motion causing the water clustered along my lash line to trail down my cheek, and they offered me a sad smile as they reached out to brush it away. “I know you think you’re haunted. Or hunted, or whatever. But I’m not afraid of you, and I’m not afraid of any ghosts that y’all may have.”

“And what if those ghosts come calling?” I clarified softly, and they smiled.

“Then I know you would never let anything happen to me,” they responded simply.

Never.

No... Never.

Woe betide anyone who dares try.

“You can stay, but only if you’d like to.” Their fingers found mine and they squeezed softly, leaning against my shoulder. “It’s okay to be afraid, though. I can be brave for all of us.”

By the time I woke, daylight was streaming across the pillow in front of me, and I sat upright quickly, startled.

The bed was empty save for a small calico curled up against my side, who opened one eye at the movement, swiping a paw over her ear before returning to her slumber, unphased. I scanned the room quickly, panic rising in my throat at Mars’ conspicuous absence.

Oh God, what did we do?

Did we have a nightmare and freak them out?

Did something happen to them?

What if we-

Our internal dialogue cut off as the front door opened, Zeus leading the way inside, his tail wagging energetically and mouth hanging open with glee. Mars seemed surprised to see me sat upright, but their expression recovered quickly, and they shot me a broad smile, holding up a tray of two coffee cups that shook from the straining on the leash in the other hand.

“You’re lucky you’re super strong - this guy is like a bulldozer!” they laughed, shaking their head fondly as they deposited the tray on the table before kneeling, calling the dog to them before removing his collar and smoothing a hand over his brindle fur. “I nearly ended up wearing the coffee!”

An odd, sweet scent permeated the room, and I cocked my head. “That doesn’t smell like coffee,” I noted, and they chuckled, shrugging shyly.

“It’s pumpkin spiced latte,” they admitted, seemingly slightly ashamed of this choice. “Which, for the record, is not spiced with pumpkins, nor does it taste anything like pumpkins.”

“Then where does it get its name?” I mused aloud, taking the cup offered to me - which, mercifully, smelled only of regular Americano.

“I think it’s made of the same stuff they spice pumpkin pie with?” they offered, sitting beside me and crossing their legs beneath them as they shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s not terrible, though. But I kind of wish it did taste like pumpkins.”

I laughed aloud, taking a sip and shaking my head fondly. “Never been a fan, myself. Stevie loved pumpkin pie, though. My mom used to make it for us every Thanksgiving, just for him.” I smiled softly to myself at the memory of a warm house, the scents wafting from the oven, and the laughter of our small, broken band of misfits.

“What was she like?” they asked quietly after a moment, turning to face me fully, dark eyes locked on mine with undivided attention. I hummed thoughtfully, letting the aroma of their drink wash over me as I considered how to respond, before chuckling under my breath.

“Kind. She... That’s the best way to sum her up, really. She was one of the kindest people you’d ever meet. Steve’s home life wasn’t great - neither was mine, before my father died. She knew what it was like to live with fear. She couldn’t save him from that - much as she tried - but she could give him somewhere safe to go. This small, scrawny shrimp of a kid who seemed to have a target on his back and a knack for making it bigger. He was easy bait when he was young. There was nothing to him - no matter how much my mom tried to fatten him up, he was always so small, so sickly...”

They nodded once, head cocked thoughtfully. “I’ve seen pictures, somewhere. Before the serum, I mean. He looked like he might break a rib if he coughed too hard...” They grimaced and flushed, looking away. “That was mean.”

“No, it was accurate,” I reassured them softly, reaching out to squeeze their hand gently. “He wasn’t strong - not physically. He was ill a lot. Sarah - his mom - she told us once when he was sick that she never thought he’d make it past the first year. She loved that boy, but every day felt like borrowed time. She always assumed he’d be taken from her one day, so every time he got ill, she was prepared for the worst. But not our Stevie,” I added, shaking my head fondly at the memories. “He got better every time, no matter how many doctors said he wouldn’t survive the night. And my mom - she’d make him broth when he could barely eat, even when she was working twelve, fourteen hours a day. She’d go over every evening and stay until the entire thing was gone, even if she had to spoon it into his mouth herself.”

“She sounds like a good woman,” they replied gently, and I nodded, jaw tensing a little as my eyes stung.

“She was,” I answered, my voice cracking minutely.

I never got to say goodbye.

I thought, then, about what it must have been like for her. To have an officer at her door tell her that her child was missing and presumed dead. They never found a body, of course. I couldn’t help but wonder if she waited, if she spent the rest of her life rushing to answer every knock at the door in case I’d come home.

It wasn’t just me she would mourn, either. Steve was as much her child as I was by the time we joined up, and I wouldn’t have expected anyone ever told her - or Sarah, for that matter - what really happened to him. And by the time anyone knew either of us was alive...

“She’s gone now,” I noted softly, allowing waves of grief I’d scarcely permitted myself to acknowledge over the years wash over me in the safety of this small apartment with its leaking roof, dark eyes watching me quietly. “I wonder what she’d make of me now.”

I wonder if she’d fear us.

I wonder if she’d still love us.

I wonder if she’d recognise us after everything we’ve done.

“She’d be so proud of you, Bucky.”

I bit my lip, fighting the tears that build along my lash line.

“I hope so.”

By the time we stepped out into the daylight, the sun was high in the sky, though it did little to ease the chill. Mars shivered violently, wrapping their thick fleece further about themselves as a breeze made their curls sway endearingly. “I’m gonna get frostbite one day, I know it,” they whined, a good-natured smirk betraying their delight.

We’d spent almost an hour practicing Zeus’ leash etiquette, and I marvelled at the progress he – we – had made under Mars’ kind and patient tutelage. While still easily distracted and prone to attempting to chase down anything moving within his eyeline – be it cat, dog, or leaf – during quieter moments there was no more tension in the leash, and he looked to me frequently, checking to see if the treat pouch clipped to my belt would bear delicious meaty fruit for his calmness.

The sky opened as we neared my apartment, and we darted into the building as a torrent of rain began to fall, immediately soaking us to the bone. One glance at one another’s dripping faces had us creasing with laughter, their hand finding my arm to support themselves as they chortled.

When they looked up, laughter fading, I found myself gazing into enchanting, entrancing brown eyes, dancing with joy and amusement, their smile fading into seriousness as neither they nor I looked away. They were close enough for me to see the flecks of hazel buried in the mahogany depths, and my breath caught in my throat as their lips parted infinitesimally.

They were no more than an inch away when Zeus shook violently, showering us in a cascade of droplets and breaking the spell that held us fast. With a nervous laugh, cheeks colouring, they stepped back, hand leaving the fabric-covered vibranium of my arm as they glanced toward the door. “I should probably…”

Wordlessly, I nodded, struck silent as I watched them step back out into the downpour.

Probably a good thing…

We’re not supposed to be getting attached to this place...

We’re not supposed to be…

My internal thoughts, and those of my brothers, fell quiet as I saw them glance back, ringlets forming rivulets of rainwater along their jaw.

“Fuck it.”

I was outside without thinking, and they half-turned when they heard my footsteps on the wet ground, surprised to see me jogging toward them with Zeus trotting along eagerly beside me.

“Bucky – it’s pouring, what are you-”

My hands cradling their face cut them off, and they blinked up at me with wide eyes, nodding almost imperceptibly when I gave them time to object before crushing my lips to theirs with a soft sigh of surrender.

- “Who did this to you?” – @anyfandomgoesbingo (Dark); - ‘Ghosts’ – @buckybarnesbingo (B005); - ‘Hero-Killer’ – Bug’s First Bingo; - ‘Standing in the Rain’ – @darkacademiabingo ; - ‘There Was Only One Bed’ – @eclipsingbingo ; - ‘Nerve Damage’ – Eclipsing Bingo (Dark); - ‘No Anaesthetic’ – @fandom-free-bingo (Flight Edition); - ‘Lazy Sunday’, ‘Deception’, ‘I Know What You Did’, ‘Memories’ – Fandom Free Bingo (Frosty Edition); - ‘Sulawesi Forest Turtle’ – Fandom-Free Bingo (Wild Edition); - ‘Fairy Tales and Folklore’ – Gen Prompt Bingo;

- ‘Aftermath’- @hurtcomfort-bingo (CO42); - ‘Love as Cooking Their Favourite Meal’ – @julybreakbingo (Kofi Exclusive); - ‘Huddling For Warmth’ – July Break Bingo (Flash); - ‘Endless’, ‘Gangrene or Frostbite’ – July Break Bingo (6x6); - ‘Stealing or Running From the Law’ – July Break Bingo (7x7); - ‘Cuddling’ – @lgbtqbingo Bingo;

- ‘Become an Early Bird’ – @multifandom-flash (New Year – Gen); - ‘Reading as it Rains Outside’, ‘Pumpkin Spice Latte’ – @seasonaldelightsbingo (Fall Vibes Bingo); - ‘Sun & Moon’ – Seasonal Delights Bingo (Five Nights at Freddy’s - BINGO!); - ‘“I’ll Be With You From Dusk Till Dawn.”’ – Seasonal Delights Bingo (Language of Flowers); - ‘First Kiss’ – Seasonal Delights Bingo (Rainy Weather Bingo); - ‘Would You Rather… Work a Job You Hate or Have No Money’ – @slumberpartybingo.

I had to remove some cards because there's an image cap *SOBS* but none of them had card numbers or were finished soooooo

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drelizabethgreene · 1 year ago

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Thank you to @creativepromptsforwriting for the bodyguard AU prompt that inspired this piece for @anyfandomfluffbingo!

#law and order svu #svu fanfiction #bensler #olivia benson #elliot stabler #fin tutuola #bodyguard au #bodyguard #fluff #oneshot #any fandom fluff bingo #archiveofourown.org #comments welcome

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ruckystarnes · 2 years ago

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Title: Curiosity Author: RuckyStarnes Card: B029 Rating: Teen Event: @buckybarnesbingo | @anyfandomgoesbingo Square: Adopted Square - Adventurers/Explorers | 1920's AU Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC!Betty Ship: Bucky x OFC!Betty Words: 328 Warnings: fluff Summary: Betty agrees to join Bucky on one of his explorations Type: Moodboard | Drabble

Bucky smiled as he watched Betty put her hand on top of her head, holding the wide-brimmed hat in place as the car drove along the sandy landscape. He told her she was better off wearing a pair of those new dark shaded glasses that had come out and a scarf, but she insisted on the hat, stating the glasses hurt her head. Bucky smiled wider when she stuck her tongue out at him in a manner of answering his thoughts of “I told you so”.

“You insisted on coming,” he laughed, turning his head to look out to the barren landscape.

“Yes, well, Egypt sounded marvelous in the books,” she grumbled, her other free hand waved in a small circle, “and how else would I be able to see it?”

Bucky nodded, his smile waning a touch. She had a point. Even though she comes from a family with money, she couldn’t travel on her own, much like any other woman back home. It also pained him to lie, saying she was his assistant in order to get her a passport. The world’s view on women and race was absurd to him.

"Didn't think it would be this sandy?" he teased.

Betty narrowed her eyes at him and turned her head towards the dunes. "You think you're such a comedian."

"I think I'm adorable," he countered with a wink and smirk, which turned into a laugh quickly when her hat blew off when she moved her hand just a smidge off of it. He watched as her dark curls started to whip free from the style she worked it in. Slowly, her scowling face softened as the corners of her lips turned upwards.

"You're many things Bucky Barnes," she laughed, her hand in her bag to pull out the cream colored scarf, "but adorable is pushing it."

Bucky raised his brows, smiling brightly. “I’ll take handsome,” he teased. Again, Betty narrowed her eyes, but the smile remained.

#bbb2023 #buckybarnesbingo2023 #any fandom goes bingo #afgb #bucky barnes #1920s!Bucky Barnes #Explorer!Bucky Barnes #AU!Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x ofc #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x betty #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes short story

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emily-mooon · 2 years ago

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Nancy for blorbo bingo!

(Incoherent screaming)

Also thank you for asking!

#for the sake of my own sanity I shall explain my reasons for dotting off certain tiles that give me fears of misunderstandings #the stop putting them in situations is a message to the duffers #it’s all because of a certain six nuggets conversation #also kinda a message to me because I put her in angst ridden situations almost all the time (college radio au is an example)#I just want her to be happy #dotted off ‘has done nothing wrong’ because it is true and ties into my reason for dotting off the fandom takes tile #I have underlined complex because she is complex and misunderstood by half of the fandom #I have no idea if my girl is well written or not so I have complex underlined only #(more like circled complex)#she is very complex and I love her for it #I hope I explained my reasons well because I am a dork who doesn’t like giving misunderstandings because I do not mean any harm #stranger things #nancy wheeler #blorbo bingo

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42donotpanic · 8 hours ago

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/52585972/chapters/166283593

To Touch the Star(s) - Chapter 2: Of Shop Boys and Boys Who Work in Shops

Summary: Just because Matt worked at a Shop, didn't mean he was a Shop Boy at heart. Even if Victoria wanted to see him as one so badly.

Pairing: Matt Murdock/Yvaine (eventually), Victoria/Humphrey

Word Count: 2683

Rating: Mature

Tags: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Canonical Character Death, Retelling, Fantasy, Blind Character, Blind Matt Murdock, Blind Tristan Thorn

Written for:

@anyfandomangstbingo : Proposal

@anyfandomfluffbingo : Throwing Pebbles at the Window

@fandom-free-bingo :

Friendship of Convenience - August Chaos Friendship Edition

"I love you," "So you should" - Book Night Edition

"I don't have anything left to lose.", I'm Tryin' to Matter in Someone' Else's Eyes', Travel to Every Continent - Dream Edition

FREE SPACE, Sword OR Letter Opener, Date Gone Wrong - Fool's Edition

Dueling - Half-Baked Edition

Unemployed - Maritime May

Not Understanding, Sword OR Letter Opener - Tolkien Edition

Unemployed - Wild Edition

#any fandom angst bingo #any fandom fluff bingo #fandom free bingo #marvel #stardust #crossover au #matt murdock #jack murdock #Victoria #Humphrey

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unhonest-iago · 1 year ago

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Just. Tea.

Dipper

Orders the drink with the most caffeine in it. Is the type of customer who tries to find out how many shots of espresso the barista can legally put in the drink.

Just to then add a red bull on top of all of it. More of a Dutch Bros customer than a Starbies

Some days he doesn’t feel like coffee so he’ll drink straight black coffee. Even adds salt to it, though by accident.

Is the only one out of the group who has a rewards card

Mabel

Is the 'I'll have a mocha caramel latte-chino / Made with skim milk, no whipped cream /' type of customer where it's not a complex order by any means, just long winded

Orders the sweetest, most colorful drinks on the menu; y'know those unicorn frappes? exactly that. Something that would give anyone a cavity.

When she does go against her usual go-to order, it's for those holiday specials. Like how there's pumpkin spice in October, peppermint in November, and then eggnog in December.

Asks for a straw no matter the drink, a collection of straw wrappers stuck at the bottom of a cup holder. Ends up making orgami stars out of them before throwing them away.

Soos

Doesn't really drink coffee or tea. If he does, orders a hot chocolate or a chai tea. Prefers soft drinks as his mode of caffeine

Collects soda tabs in a box/jar, makes a random figurine out of them once it’s filled up

Will surprise the rest of the crew with their coffee order every once in a while

Mabel coaxes him into trying a sip of her’s as to convert him to the ‘dark side,’ maniacally laughing afterwards

Wendy

Similarly to Soos, Wendy gets either a steamed apple juice or steamed milk type of drink

Using the cup more as a hand warmer no matter the season

Switches to a strawberry lemonade in the summer if they have it, or a herbal tea with honey in it

Has had a few books taken out of her pay checks after accidentally using them as a coaster

#iago writes #not x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls headcanons #mabel pines #dipper pines #wendy corduroy #soos ramirez #any fandom goes au bingo #afg au bingo #coffee shop au

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sarahowritesostucky · 1 year ago

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📖"Merry & Bright"

Part 4 - Package Deal

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: a/b/o, omega Bucky, alpha Steve, kids/domestic, fingering, anal sex, knotting, multiple orgasms, Voicing, claiming bites, D/s elements, mentions of PTSD, mentions of depression, postpartum, body insecurity, breastfeeding, mpreg, pet names

Word Count: ~7000 (I'm sorry, okay?!😫)

Summary: Steve and Bucky make love for the first time since the birth of their son.

(Or: a prime example of how even my sincere attempts at g-rated domestic kid fics devolve into 6000+ words of smut 🤦🏻‍♀️)

[“You want to know what it looks like?” Steve growls, pulling back with a filthy-wet sound and a voice that’s furious and rough-edged and determined. “It looks like the cunt of the omega who gave me my children. Looks like the cunt I wanna spend the rest of my life fucking, stuffing full of my cock, my cum, my knot … my tongue.”]

(Wait! I haven't read part 1, 2, 3 yet!)

Steve appears in the doorway to their bedroom after putting the girls to bed. “ ‘And the children were nestled all snug in their beds’ ,” he recites, making Bucky chuckle softly.

“ 'blah blah, something about a long winter’s nap' .” (Which doesn’t sound bad at all to him right about now.) “That took a while," he says, stifling a yawn against the top of Gabe’s head. “They didn’t get their hands on any sugarplums at that party, did they?”

Steve shakes his head. “Naw. Crackers and juice.”

“Juice has sugar.”

“They’re fine. Reading got ‘em down.”

“We still on Stuart Little?”

“Becs begged for an extra chapter,” Steve confirms, smiling from where he’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes full of affection as he watches Bucky feeding their son. “Did you have a nice time tonight, babe?”

Bucky winces first and lies second, so of course his ever-perceptive husband raises an eyebrow and waits him out for the truth. Bucky recounts the encounter with Karen and the other moms. “They wear me out,” he says, letting his eyes slip closed and his head dig back into the pillow that he’s got propped against the headboard. “Even when I promise myself I’m just gonna eat the food and not engage, somehow they draw me in. They have that knack.”

“Eh. They’re just a bunch’a cotton-headed ninny muggins.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah well I’m not too far off from ‘em.” He feels Gabe slowing down and trails his fingers through the boy’s wispy hair. “Here I thought it was last week instead of this week. Seven full calendar days off track.”

“Babe, it happens.”

“Hm. No it doesn’t. But you’re sweet for saying so.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “Neurologist said I’ve got too much white matter, now.”

“Yeah, and he also said it isn’t getting any worse. Lots’a people have brain injuries and manage to live perfectly fine lives.”

Bucky doesn’t miss how Steve substitutes the word ‘fine’ for ‘normal’, and his lips twist wryly. “I know. It’s just, all this time I’ve been blaming it on pregnancy brain, but that'd be wearing off by now.” He groans with his eyes still closed. “Swiss cheese for brains, Stevie, I swear.”

Steve makes a sad tut of disapproval from the doorway. Bucky stubbornly doesn’t open his eyes, but he can hear the soft sounds of Steve padding across the room, then the bed dipping by his side as he slides in next to him. “You’re doing great, Sweetheart,” he encourages.

Despite how much Bucky disagrees with that assessment, he can still hear all the love and warmth in Steve’s voice, can tell that his husband sincerely means it when he leans in and kisses his ear, lips and breath lingering at the craggy, mutilated top. It’s one of the ways that Steve has always silently said ‘I love you’ to Bucky when he knows the omega is in a bad mood, and it somehow manages to worm its way past his churlishness each and every time. “Thanks, Babe,” he mutters.

Steve wiggles in to sit beside him, hip to hip, mindful of Bucky and the baby and not upsetting Gabe’s feeding time. “... Did something else happen today? You seem, I dunno, burdened.”

“I am. I mean I’m just fucking tired, but yeah.”

His hand appears on top of Bucky's thigh. “Tell me?”

Bucky sighs. “Just my emotions goin’ haywire. Hormones. I went jogging and cried in the park.”

“Baby,”

Steve never likes to hear that Bucky’s unhappy, which is the main reason why Bucky avoids mentioning it. He’s got a therapist for that shit, after all. “Eh, it was brief. I got over it. But then I realized the play was tonight and I had to scramble to get the girls' costumes together; and right before that, I had to do battle with this snotty little beta at the pharmacy just to try and get my prescription filled, so that didn’t help.”

“What?”

Bucky ruefully recounts the incident with his birth control medication and the new FDA regulations, and Steve starts to rumble angrily in his chest before the story is halfway through. Bucky opens his eyes to see his Alpha looking all indignant on his behalf. His lips quirk. “Easy there, Big guy.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve growls. “I didn’t know there was any kind of legislation like that being considered.”

Steve’s unhappy scent is making Gabe start to pull away, and Bucky rubs the infant’s back. “Calm down. You’re making him squirm.” Steve grumbles but tries to obey, and Bucky relaxes when he feels Gabe go searching for another latch. “I dunno Steve. Things are changing, and I see the signs and it just scares the crap outta me.”

“What do you mean, ‘changing’?”

“Just ... the little things," he mumbles, knowing that there's a chapter in his book called that, and that Steve probably remembers it, too. Bucky shrugs, avoiding Steve's concerned stare. "A couple of years ago, people weren’t talking so much about church. Now everybody’s back to talking about gender roles all the time.”

“People are allowed to have religion, Buck.”

“It’s not just that. It’s people’s attitudes changing, their whole approach. It scares me. People didn’t used to always be talking about what was ‘decent’ or what was ‘allowed’ on this platform or that. Purity culture, moral absolutism; those things were on the decline, ya know? People didn’t criticize working mothers as much. Omegas didn’t wear their collars in public like it's some sort of fashion statement. 'Tradwives' weren’t trending on TikTok. … Abortion was protected.”

“It’s still protected,” Steve argues.

“Here it is,” Bucky says peevishly, because they both know about each and every issue that’s been kicked back to the states in recent years. “It’s how fast everybody forgets. Now those bumper stickers are coming back in vogue again, Jesus fish lapel pins. Hell, it’s even normal to launch a friendly chat with a chipper little ‘where do you fellowship?’ They’re banning books all the time—”

“In schools, not public libraries,” Steve interrupts, then hurriedly adds, “I’m not defending it, Buck. I’m just saying there’s a difference.”

“There’s a difference until there’s not a difference,” he snaps. Then, after a beat of fraught silence between them, he whispers, “Please tell me it’s not happening again, Steve.”

“Hey.” Steve shifts beside him, putting an arm behind his back to pull him closer against his side. He kisses the top of his head. “No, Buck. We’ve got intelligence agencies to fight against that, now. That’s what Shield is for. It’s what I do. You’ve gotta know I’d never let you or the girls—the kids,” he hurriedly amends, not yet used to “the girls” no longer being an apt descriptor of their children, “get drawn into a situation like that again. I’d never let it happen, baby, never. You know we have an exit plan if things get bad.”

Bucky nods, swallowing thickly at the mere thought of it. “Yeah,” he whispers against Gabe’s head. He knows that Steve only put that plan together to help assuage Bucky’s lingering fears, his anxiety that never quite goes away completely. “Yeah. We can get out. We have a plan.” He’s whispering it to himself, vaguely recognizes the beginning feelings of a spiral, how his pulse is faster than it should be, audible in his ears, with dread pooling low in his gut like spoiled food.

He whimpers and pushes his nose against Gabe’s hair to soothe himself, inhaling the new baby smell that he still has. “We have a private jet,” he whispers, reminding himself, trying not to let his thoughts flash back to the memory of the retreating rear window of his mom’s car at a border crossing, his sisters’ faces pressed against the glass as they leave him behind in a country where he's not safe anymore …

“Untrackable Quinjet, fly to Canada,” he murmurs, trying to focus on five things that he can see, smell, feel, taste and hear … about Gabe, his son, his—

“Baby,” Steve is mourning by his side. He grips Bucky’s shoulder and gives him a comforting squeeze, which pulls Bucky’s vision back into focus from the panic attack he’d been about to fall into. Steve seems unaware of it. He’s still just cuddling him and talking platitudes in a low voice. “That’s not happening, okay? Things are fine, I promise you.”

Bucky nods, even though he can’t help but to worry, “Then why are people giving up their rights again?” he asks. “You know they’re expanding the Fertility Care Act.”

“I know. But that doesn’t take anyone’s rights away.”

“You know how I feel about it.”

“I know. I know babe. ‘Incentiv—”

“Incentivization is the first step to coercion!” Bucky finishes for him. “Yes. They’re prioritizing citizens who can have kids over ones who can't. How is that fair?!”

Steve lowers his head. “It’s not.”

“And passing all these restrictive laws? Requiring my Alpha to cosign on my birth control? How can they do that?”

Steve sighs. “We’re still a democracy,” he says sadly. “People still have the right to vote for the policies they want, even if they’re not the same things that you and I want. We’re a self-determining society, babe. If they get enough support for it, enough votes … People still get to make these decisions.”

Bucky grunts. “Well they're making the wrong ones.”

Steve hums in agreement, giving him another squeeze. “Hey now, don’t think about that stuff. Relax with me tonight, that’s what I want.”

“Hmph.”

“You’re gonna turn the milk sour, you keep worrying like that,” he teases. “C’mere, grumpy.” He dips in and nuzzles against Bucky’s face to try and get a small smile out of him. It kind of works, and Steve hums happily when he feels him soften. “How’s Little man?” he asks, kissing Bucky’s temple and looking down at their son.

“Pretty sure he’s eating in his sleep,” Bucky murmurs. “And I’m about to be too.”

“Mm. But you’re not eating.”

“You know what I mean, dummy.”

Steve leans in and noses at his neck, scenting him affectionately. “You smell so good, momma. Smell like home, like mate.” Bucky makes a grumbling sound of complaint at the “momma” and Steve snickers and kisses him in apology. He cups his hand behind Bucky’s flesh one, intimately joining him in cradling their infant son’s head against Bucky’s chest. “Lookit that,” he purrs, and it’s not all innocence to his tone, as he stares at where Gabe is suckling. “I love to see you like this,” he murmurs. “Seeing you feeding him, giving him what he needs. Using that part of yourself for this.”

Bucky groans and lets his eyes fall closed again in mortification. “Steeve.” He feels Steve’s thumb start swiping back and forth on the back of his hand that's cupping Gabe's head.

“Shh. It’s true, momma.” Steve starts peppering kisses against the top of his shoulder as he watches Gabe nursing and Bucky blushing. He speaks softly between the kisses, murmuring intimate words of love against Bucky’s skin: “Love it. Love you. You don’t know what it does to me, to see you with him like this. Watching you takin’ care of him. Knowing that your gorgeous body can do this, can nourish him. The baby you made for me, my son.” His voice is rumbling again by the time he finishes, possessive, and he laces their fingers together and ducks in close to start mouthing at Bucky’s bonding glands—something which he knows turns Bucky on to no end, goddamn him.

Bucky groans and whines. “Are you serious right now?” Steve’s laugh puffs out against his skin, warm and affectionate, and Bucky drops his head to try and hide the smile he can’t keep off his own face. “Damn you, Rogers.”

“Language, momma Rogers,” Steve purrs, which only serves to make the heat in Bucky’s face worse. “Let me put him down,” he murmurs, kissing Bucky’s neck one last time before moving forward to take Gabe. Bucky hands him over with a tired hum, letting his eyes slip closed again while Steve is gone.

He’s surprised when he drifts off to sleep and the next thing he’s aware of is Steve crawling back into the bed with him. “Mmhh, I fell asleep.”

“I can see that.”

“He go down okay?”

“Yep.” Steve pulls him into his arms and lies down with him, kissing his forehead. “You make me so happy, Buck,” he whispers. He trails kisses down his face until he reaches his lips, then presses gentle pecks there until he’s able to coax his way inside for more. He makes out with him lazily, humming in pleasure as Bucky softens and starts to respond to it. He lets one hand roam his body, trailing up and down the omega’s side, then squeezing his waist. “You tired?” he whispers.

Bucky smirks with his eyes closed. “M’ always tired.”

Steve hums in agreement and kisses him some more. “He slept through the night last night.”

“Yeah. Don’t jinx it. Maybe we’ll get lucky again.”

“Want to fool around?” Steve murmurs, already kissing along his jaw towards his neck again. His big hands roam Bucky’s body, caressing his waist and circling behind to grab at his ass. “I miss you.”

Bucky sighs in pleasure, nodding. “I’m fucking tired,” he murmurs—very pointedly not a ‘no’—then shivers when Steve rolls over to cover him with his body, pressing one firm, thick thigh up between his legs. Bucky groans tiredly. “Ohh, Honey.”

“I’ll do all the work,” Steve promises, whispering the words against his neck in a conspiratorial way that makes Bucky chuckle. Steve kisses his bonding gland again. “Mmm, promise. You can just lie here and feel good.”

“Or fall asleep,” Bucky mutters, though as Steve presses his thigh down and rolls his hips, the odds of that happening significantly diminish. Bucky smiles with his eyes still closed and digs his skull back into the pillow, shivering full-body as he feels his dick waking up. “Mm, Stevie. Yeah. Make me feel good?”

“Course,” Steve whispers, before sealing his mouth over the sensitive tissue of Bucky’s bond scar. He hums in pleasure as he sucks hard, coaxing the gland underneath to swell and grow closer to the skin with arousal. He fits his teeth to the shape of it, biting in a quick, sharp nip that makes Bucky gasp.

“Oh! Steve …”

“You remember what the doctor said,” he teases, scraping his teeth over the spit-wet skin. “Hm? ‘Bout the ways Alpha can help you feel good?”

“Ohh, mm hm.” Bucky’s O.B. and his therapist have told them that stimulation of the glands can help relieve some of the effects of postpartum depression—including regular sex and penetrating bites from a bondmate. They've tried the latter but not the former, but Steve has been more than keen on the idea of helping his omega in both ways.

“What do you say, baby?” he asks, licking and kissing all over his bond scar. “Hm? It's all healed up from last time. Can I?”

Bucky whimpers, weak from the rush of arousal that always comes at hearing Steve ask for this. “Nnn,” he whines uselessly, rolling his body up against the alpha’s bulk. “Ssteve,” he slurs, “Nnn, don’t.”

“Aw, why not?” he coos lazily, still mouthing at that spot. “It’ll feel good, I promise.” He moves up to whisper in Bucky’s ear: “I know how hard it makes you cum when I time it just right.”

Bucky moans pitifully. He tries to remember what his reason for protesting it is, but it’s hard. “It’s almost—oh! mmm—s’almost Thanksgiving. W-we, um … T-tony’s parties, n’ the Turkey Trot …”

Steve lets his teeth drag over the glands again. “Fuck the Turkey Trot. So what? I love seeing you fresh with my mark. And this way everyone else will too. They’ll see it and they’ll know you’re mine. Know I was probably fucking you while I did it, claimin’ you all over again.” His voice is rough and gravelly by the end, full of heat and possession. “You got any idea how much I like that?”

“Hnhh,” Bucky breathes, unable to argue against that reasoning. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” Steve purrs, eliciting another pathetic whine from his mate. Bucky can practically feel Steve’s satisfied grin as he continues to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, mouth never leaving his bonding glands for long. “Smell so fuckin’ good, momma,” he groans, and this time rather than protest the endearment, Bucky keens at the way Steve says it: like Bucky being the mother of his children is the sexiest, most wonderful thing imaginable. Steve keeps kissing a path down his neck and shoulder, over his collarbone and chest, stopping when he reaches the level of his pecs and sealing his mouth to a nipple—the same place where their baby was nursing not even ten minutes ago.

Bucky shivers in sensitivity and blushes like a madman, his hands flying up to tangle in Steve’s hair. “Nnh, Steve, wait, oh …”

Steve groans and rubs his cheek against his chest, the drag of his facial hair and his hot breath making Bucky’s nipples harden into tight nubs. He brings a hand up to cup one swollen pec and mouths openly at the other, groaning as he stares greedily. “Fuck, baby, look at you.”

“Steve,” Bucky pants. “Nnn,”

“Mm mn, no. Hush. Just let me play with ‘em.”

Bucky continues to whine about it, but a hardening dick and a leaking asshole don’t lie, and Steve knows him too well to let him get away with such shallow evasion at this point in their marriage.

He settles in for the long feast, humming and grunting in pleasure between kisses and sucks to Bucky’s chest, alternating sides and squeezing whatever he isn’t mouthing over at the moment. “God, baby,” he says between one kiss and the next. “Wish you’d stay like this. Love your body like this. So soft, just for me.”

“Fuck, Steve.”

“Mmhm. Could keep you like this forever. All needy and sensitive.” He traps Bucky’s nipple between his lips and sucks, hard, and Bucky feels that tingly sensation and knows what’s going to happen a second before it does. His hands fly to Steve’s head and he cries out, but there’s no time for him to warn his husband before his body lets out a tiny spurt of breastmilk. Steve only pauses for a second, his mouth still on him, and then he groans loudly against Bucky’s chest. He sucks again, huffing in enjoyment, then lifts up and meets Bucky’s gaze with lust-blown eyes. “Oh honey,” he whispers, sounding devastated. “I almost forgot how sweet you are.”

Bucky’s brain is kind of short circuiting at the sheen on Steve’s lips, wet from his very own breast milk. “Shit,” he exhales shakily. “Alpha.”

Steve growls and drops back down to suck on him some more. Bucky can only lie there and take it, his head tossing on the pillow and hands gripping Steve’s hair as the alpha makes a playground of his chest. Bucky whines and complains, but truth be told there’s something small and squirmy inside of him that secretly loves it when his husband indulges in his body this way. It makes him feel wanted and beautiful, reminds him that Steve loves every part of him, even when Bucky himself doesn’t. “Leave—aah—leave some for the baby,” he eventually manages to say, laughing between pleasured groans and gasps.

Steve pulls off and comes up to kiss him, tongue swiping past Bucky’s lips and leaving the taste of himself behind. Bucky’s breathing shakily by the time they part, and Steve’s eyes flit over his face. “You okay?” he asks, so sincere in his care for Bucky that it makes Bucky want to give him everything.

“Yes Alpha,” he whispers, reaching up with his flesh hand and cupping Steve’s jaw with it. “I just love you stupid-much, is all.”

“Stupid much?”

“Mm, yeah, it’s pretty stupid.”

Steve surges down to kiss him thoroughly once more “See?” he teases, knocking their foreheads together. “All that moping didn’t curdle the milk after all.” Bucky huffs and swats at him, and Steve grins and rolls away. “Hang on one sec.” He gets up to undress, and by the time he’s crawling back into bed naked, Bucky’s kicked off his pajama pants as well. Steve slides right back into the cradle of his hips. Between their bellies, his cock is hard, but he makes no move to address it, focused on his mate instead. “What do you want tonight?” he asks gently, tracing Bucky's face on one side and then the other. “Hm? We can do anything you want. Whatever makes you feel good.”

Bucky softens, in love. That’s how it’s been these past four months: Steve being careful, trying so hard to respect any boundaries, to let Bucky take the lead as they find their way back to intimacy as husbands. Problem is, most days Bucky doesn’t know what he wants. He swallows thickly and rasps out a quiet, “I just wanna feel you.”

Steve hums. He tucks the recently-shortened strands of Bucky’s hair aside, eyes flicking from one ruined ear to the other, amazing Bucky with how his gaze never waivers with any hint of distaste at the mutilated flesh. It’s just love he sees in him. “I think that can be arranged.”

He kisses him, long and languid and indulgent, the kind of kiss that takes its time and never really escalates, more intimate than it has any right to be. By the time he’s kissing down Bucky’s body to put his mouth on his prick, Bucky’s a leaking, mewling mess.

“Ssteve,” he slurs as he watches his husband’s blond head of hair dip down between his legs and feels his mouth engulf him in sudden, overwhelming warmth. “Oh God.” Bucky’s eyes slip shut and he digs his skull back into the pillow, exhaling through clenched teeth at how good it feels. Steve hums from around his mouthful and Bucky hurriedly grasps at his hair. “Nnn, don’t,” he hisses, trying to calm down even as his hips are shoving up at Steve’s face. “Don’t hum like that, Jesus Christ.”

Steve laughs and pulls off to look up at him. He kisses Bucky’s cockhead and winks. “Sorry. I was just enjoying myself.” Keeping eye contact, he suckles and laves over just the head of Bucky’s dick, then uses his hold at the base to tap it against the flat of his tongue several times.

“Fuck.” Bucky pants and screws his eyes shut. “It’s been too long. I can’t hold it.”

“Who says you need to hold it?” Steve kisses his hipbone. “Cum as many times as you want to, Sweetheart. As many times as you need.”

Bucky groans. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“Maybe it is.” He goes back to Bucky’s cock, pushing hard at one of his thighs to force him to widen his legs even further. “There we go, good boy. Keep ‘em spread.”

Bucky peeks down at Steve and sees him staring at … everything.

Oh. … Oh.

He swallows nervously. It’s been over four months now, and he’s had the go-ahead from the doctor since all the way back at his six-week checkup, but Bucky’s still been self-conscious. They've resumed some recreational activities, but Steve still hasn’t asked to have sex yet. Bucky’s pretty sure he’s waiting for him to initiate. “H-how’s it looking down there?” he asks, trying to insert levity into his tone and failing pretty spectacularly. “Everything … everything good?”

“Mmm.” Steve caresses his balls, pushing them up and out of the way, feasibly so that he can stare at his perineum and further back to his weeping, clenching hole. “It’s winking at me,” he says, making Bucky’s face go red hot.

“You know what I mean,” he huffs, knocking his heel against Steve’s back halfheartedly. “How’s it … how’s it look?”

Steve hums and pretends to consider it very seriously, moving in even closer. “Looks perfect,” he says, a touch more arousal in his voice this time. And he’s so close now that Bucky can feel the heat of his breath against his skin. Steve’s finger touches just behind his balls and glides all the way back along his taint, up and down, tracing the line of where Bucky knows the stitches were. “All healed up,” he murmurs, sounding pleased. “Pretty and pink.”

Bucky snorts and makes a face. “Yeah, right. Don’t worry Steve, I’ve read all the reality check articles.”

“The what?”

“Stuff on the internet for new mothers. On how wrecked you are after giving birth. They say it’s especially rough on male O’s, and I’ve popped two of these things out, so.” He grimaces. “I think they have like, lasers or something that they can use to try and fix it, or at least make it look nicer.”

“What?” Steve sounds shocked. “Babe. What are you talking about?”

Bucky huffs, not wanting Steve’s false platitudes. “I’m just trying to be realistic, okay?” He squirms impatiently and refuses to look down at the alpha between his legs. “So? Does it look like … ya know, very messed up?”

Steve’s tensing shoulders and his low growl are the only warnings Bucky gets before his husband’s mouth is sealing itself straight over his taint and sucking ferociously, the accompanying rumble of his growl only intensifying the feeling.

Bucky yelps. “Holy fuck!” His body jolts in place, trying to bow off the bed, but Steve holds him still with strong arms wrapped around his thighs. “Sh-hit,” he gasps, “Steve!”

“You want to know what it looks like?” Steve growls, pulling back with a filthy-wet sound and a voice that’s furious and rough-edged and determined. “It looks like the cunt of the omega who gave me my children. Looks like the cunt I wanna spend the rest of my life fucking, stuffing full of my cock, my cum, my knot … my tongue.” He surges back in, taking turns between tongue-fucking his hole and sucking on his rim as brutally as he can, making loud grunts and groans in the process that are very clearly meant to drive a point home. “Mmph, mmm, hhmph!”

Bucky gasps and keens, overwrought by Steve’s words just as much as he is by the feeling of his mouth. He doesn’t even consciously think about it as he grabs his cock and starts jerking off, Steve groaning loudly against his ass when he realizes what Bucky’s doing. It only takes another minute of that before he’s coming, riding Steve’s face as his cock pulses in his hand and wets up his belly in spurts of clear omega cum.

“Oh God, oh, ohh …” His breath hitches in broken moans as he rides the orgasm out. Then the pleasure wanes and he slowly comes back down to earth, panting and dazed, blinking up at nothing but the blank plaster of their bedroom ceiling …

Until Steve reappears in his field of vision, having climbed back up to lie over him once again. Bucky welcomes the press of his alpha’s heavy body on top of him, accepts the slick-tinged flavor of Steve’s tongue when he slots their mouths together and shoves inside, demanding and harsh. “That was number one,” he says, when he’s pulled back and is looking down at Bucky with a satisfied expression. “How many more you gonna give me tonight?”

Internally, Bucky curses. He curses, dies a little bit, and falls deeper in love all at the same time. Meanwhile, externally, he regains his breath and meets Steve’s hungry stare. “I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna wear me out more than the baby,” he says, aiming for a wry drawl but only achieving something that sounds breathless and wrecked instead. He sees Steve’s eyes darken the way they do whenever he’s issued a challenge, and knows he’s in for a hell of a night. “What’re you thinking?” he whispers.

“I’m thinking: I want to see that again, and again,” Steve rasps, voice gone to gravel. “Thinking I want to watch you lose control like that all the goddamn time. For the rest of my life.”

Bucky flushes. “Steve …”

“I’m thinking: that I want to make you feel good in every possible way there is to feel good.” His lips ghost over Bucky’s as he murmurs, “So that you know. Because you clearly don’t—”

“Steve …”

“And so that you never feel like you need to ask me a question about what you ‘look like’ ever again. Not on any part of your beautiful body.”

Bucky groans and tries to turn his face away, But Steve catches him and guides him back with a gentle hand on his cheek. “Uh uh, Sweetheart. You listen to me. I want to make love to you. Until you can’t take it anymore, until you go soft and weak and cryin’ with it.” His hands start wandering over the peaks and valleys of Bucky’s body, caressing his skin. One hand moulds itself to the side of his neck, fingers playing over the texture of his bondmark, while the other glides down, pausing to stop and tweak a nipple, squeeze his waist, grab the fleshy curve of a hip. Very purposefully, he slides his hand to settle into place over his lower belly, hushing him when he feels him start to tense up. “Shh sh sh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Steve, I’m … it’s —”

“Shhh.” He nudges their noses together, chiding and affectionate all at once, because he knows which parts of his body Bucky is most self-conscious of. But he doesn’t move his hand from the territory it’s claimed. “I know,” he whispers. “I know how you feel. But that’s all wrong, baby. And I want to show you.” He kisses him again, only this time it’s tender, almost achingly so. He relents and pulls back. “That’s all, Honey. I just want to make you feel new things, good things. I want to show you. I need to show you.”

“Show me what?” Bucky whispers, but then Steve stares down at him in that dark and private way that he deeply, intimately recognizes, and he regrets having asked. Bucky trembles and closes his eyes. “Steve, please. You don’t have to …”

“Look at me,” Steve murmurs. He rests their foreheads together. “I just want you to understand, baby. That when I touch you here,"—his fingers curl possessively into the too-soft flesh of Bucky’s stomach—“I feel something so profound, so far beyond just love or arousal … that I don’t even know what to say to you. You understand? It hurts. I don’t have words for it.” He looks at him imploringly. “You couldn’t be more beautiful than you are to me right now.”

Bucky’s heart beats faster at the intimate confession. He tries to suck his stomach in, tries to tense his abdominals and make himself firm, but Steve tuts at him and pinches the side of his neck, right over his swollen glands. Bucky gasps, eyes shooting back up from where he’d been starting to look down between their bodies at Steve’s hand on him. “I wasn’t.”

“Look at me,” Steve says, and this time it’s in his Voice, the sound of it sending an instant shot of arousal down Bucky’s spine and into his core. His eyes must show it, too, because Steve smiles and purrs deep in his chest. “Yeah,” he encourages, still in the Voice that he so rarely uses with Bucky. “That’s right. Look up here at Alpha. Do as you’re told.”

Bucky licks his lips, aware that his cock is rapidly hardening again. “Steve,” he breathes shakily. “I —”

“Pull your knees up,” he murmurs, and Bucky obeys without a second thought. “Good boy.”

A chirp erupts from Bucky’s throat, unbidden, and he colors in surprise at the sound. “Alpha,” he says, because it’s the only word he can think to say.

Steve smiles and strokes over his bond mark with the roughened pad of a thumb. “Does it feel nice? Want more?”

Bucky nods, blinking, the effects of Steve’s Voice still singing in his veins like a drug. “Yeah.”

They hardly ever engage in Voiceplay. It’s something Bucky enjoys with his husband, but he’s had bad experiences with other alphas in the past; times when men who weren't Steve assaulted him with what should only ever be used as a tool of lovemaking. Steve knows this, and so he usually avoids Voicing with Bucky unless he knows that the circumstances are just right.

The circumstances are just right.

Bucky whimpers and reaches down impulsively to cover Steve’s hand where it rests on his belly, but not to pull it away. “Alpha,” he chirps again, fingers curling over Steve’s larger ones.

“This okay?” Steve checks, his eyes scanning his face for even a hint of discomfort.

But he finds none, and Bucky nods his head in fast approval. “Yeah, yes.”

It’s still achingly vulnerable, having Steve touching this soft, imperfect part of him; but it’s intimate, too, and Bucky wants more of that. He wants Steve to make love to him this way, an Alpha with his omega—capital A, lowercase o.

“S’been so long,” he breathes, his voice hitching as his emotions finally catch up with him. Ridiculously, he starts to feel tearful. He’s missed having this with his mate so much. “So long, Stevie.”

“Baby,” Steve coos. “Don’t cry.”

Bucky sniffles shyly and tucks his face into Steve’s neck, feeling stupid. “Can’t help it,” he mumbles.

Steve’s fingers massage his bond mark and he kisses his temple soothingly. The hand that was on his stomach snakes around, dipping underneath his lower back and tugging them even closer together. “You gonna let me?” he asks. “Gonna let Alpha make you cum again and again?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? Gonna let me give you another bite, make it a good one? Mark you up again for everybody to see?”

Bucky whines and nods, drawing his knees up, wrapping his legs around Steve’s hips and tilting his pelvis to make himself available to his mate. “Please,” he begs. “Please, yes, Steve. I want it, please.”

Steve rumbles deep in his chest and slots their mouths together in a brief, aggressive kiss, then pulls back swiftly and manhandles him onto his belly, pulling him up by the hips into presenting. Bucky cries out in surprise but goes willingly, widening his knees on the bed and pushing his ass back into Steve’s groping hands. “Good boy,” Steve praises, Voice dipping down into that register that’s low and rumbly and lets Bucky know that his Alpha is very pleased with him.

Bucky grunts and wiggles happily until Steve’s hand appears at the back of his neck and pushes down: a wordless, forceful ‘Stay’ that makes him shiver and whine with impatience. “Nnnh.”

The hand flattens at his nape and slowly drags down the length of his spine, appreciative and greedy. “Aw, Sweetheart,” Steve breathes, hips rocking forward. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect, y’hear me?” He curses quietly as he digs his fingers into the fat of Bucky’s hips, watches his cock dragging through the wet valley of his ass. “Jesus wept, Honey. Lookit you. Wet dream come to fucking life, I swear.”

Steve only curses this much when he’s incredibly turned on, and the knowledge that it’s his doing has Bucky slicking up even worse than before. He whines and scrubs his face against the bedding as he feels his hole pulse and leak, the slick tickling as it trails down his taint and balls. “Steve,” he pleads, relieved when Steve grabs his hips and continues to take control.

“Shh, s’okay, you’re okay. I’m gonna give you what you need. Gonna take it slow.” His fingers appear at his backside, slipping through all the slick, wetting them up in him. He starts to press in with one finger. “Real slow,” he murmurs. He fucks him on just that one finger, for far longer than he would normally do, taking his time in Bucky’s body, in relearning this touch with him. Bucky makes a miserable noise against the bedsheets and Steve hums, pleased. “Yeah? How’s that feel, Sweetheart?”

Bucky whines and nods, his cheek dragging on the sheets. He feels Steve curling over him, his chest pressing up against his back and then the finger sliding deeper. Bucky moans as it grazes over his prostate. “Oh, God.”

“Uh huh.” Steve’s breath hits right at his ear. He plants his left forearm alongside Bucky’s, holding himself up as he fingers him. Right next to Bucky’s face, their pinky fingers hook together, flesh over metal. Steve kisses the shell of his ear and whispers, “Bucky, honey. You’re so swollen inside, I can feel it.” He strokes his finger, curling gently over that spot that makes Bucky’s vision go blotchy. “I want you to cum like this first,” he whispers. “On my hand a couple’a times. Right on Alpha’s fingers. Okay?”

Bucky sobs and nods. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Steve, please.” He can feel the orgasm coalescing already, the pleasure of Steve’s finger pulling him closer on every pass. “Please, please.”

“Shhh. Remember: slow,” he reminds him, and Bucky’s guts twist up in further delicious arousal and frustration. Steve doesn’t try to edge him, though. He lets him have it, working him up to it steadily, not rushing, kissing his neck again and again as he fucks him on one finger and then two.

That added fullness is what makes Bucky unravel, his body pulsing as he gasps and suddenly falls into his second orgasm.

Steve talks him through it, never stopping the whispered encouragements against his ear: “There we go. That’s it, baby, that’s it. So good.”

Bucky collapses to his stomach, and Steve follows him down, gently nudging his knees inside of Bucky’s to make a space for himself. Bucky complies, boneless from his climax. “Stevie,” he slurs.

“Right here, baby.” He presses up all along his back, covering him with warmth. “I’m right here.” His hands slide up Bucky’s arms and cover his hands at either side of his head. Bucky moans quietly as Steve laces their fingers together and gives a squeeze. “Hey, gorgeous.” He rolls his hips, cock slotting into place. “You’re so wet.”

“Y-yeah.”

Steve rocks leisurely against him and Bucky hums at how slick it is, enjoying the intimacy of rubbing together full-body. He lets his eyes slip closed as he soaks it all in: Steve’s heavy weight, his scent, the scratch of his beard and the heat of his breath in the crook of Bucky’s neck. He wishes they could stay like this forever.

“You feel so good,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Sweetheart.” Steve drags his lips over the sensitive skin of his bondmark. “Can I fuck you, baby?” he asks softly. “You want that, hm? Want Alpha inside of you?”

Bucky is glad that Steve can’t see his face, because his eyes are wet from pleasured, overly-emotional tears, and this way he doesn’t have to bother being embarrassed over what a sap this pregnancy has turned him into. He nods and scrubs his cheek against the bedcovers. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, Steve. Please.”

Steve hums and kisses him once more, before he reaches down and lines his cock up, dragging the head wetly across his rim a few times with increasing pressure, until it catches. Bucky tenses, because it’s been so long since they’ve done this, and because the last event of real significance that involved his asshole had been childbirth, but Steve soothes him with a sucking kiss to his bondmark. “Relax,” he murmurs, pushing in at the same time and making Bucky gasp softly. “Shh, there you go. See?”

“Ohh.” Bucky’s eyelids flutter as he’s slowly filled. “Steve.”

“Uh huh.” Steve’s hips kiss his ass as he sinks home all the way. “Juust like that,” he purrs, grinding against him and staying deep inside. “S’it feel nice?”

“Uh huh,” Bucky breathes, lips parted and eyes closed, brow furrowed at how full he is. “Yeah, Stevie … oh …”

Steve chuckles and kisses his shoulder. “You feel amazing,” he whispers, before he experiments with moving a little more. He keeps pulsing his hips, rocking languidly, gradually building up to a slow pace.

He fucks him gently then, not pulling back to get on his knees or gain any kind of leverage. Instead he stays close, deep; plastered to his back and dragging his cock against his sensitive insides over and over so perfectly. When it pulls a tortured moan from Bucky's throat, Steve encourages him with soft, sucking kisses against his glands. “S’okay.”

“God, Steve.”

“Uh huh. Juust like that. I remember how you like it. Alpha's got you, baby.” Steve sounds like he’s getting close, too, voice laboured as he grunts against Bucky’s neck. “You gonna, ugh, gonna cum again, mamma?”

Bucky whines and nods. “This time,” he begs. “Please, please. Do it.”

The two of them share a bond, and that’s probably the main reason why Steve’s able to tell what he means.

He doesn’t disappoint, either, fucking him smoothly right into another orgasm and timing it perfectly. As soon as Bucky’s body goes rigid and his breath stutters in his throat, Steve’s biting down hard over his bondmark, breaking the skin and piercing the swollen glands beneath. Bucky sobs and comes harder and longer than he has in a long time, crying from how impossibly good it feels.

It’s compounded by the sudden groan that Steve lets out and the rapid inflation of his knot, as the bite sets him off as well: “Nngh!”

While Steve is stuck inside him and lost to his own pleasure, Bucky’s able to rock himself to one more, toe-curlingly delicious orgasm before he finally lets himself go boneless on the bed, fully sated. He knows when Steve is done coming, because the alpha becomes more attentive again, his hands running over Bucky like he’s checking him for injuries sustained. If Bucky hadn’t just come four times, he might've been able to spare a chuckle over it. “Hey,” he says instead. “M’fine, babe.”

“Yeah?” Steve sounds pleased. He gives his hips a lazy roll against Bucky’s ass and nuzzles his freshly-bitten bondmark, groaning at the pheromones that hit him. He licks a big, fat swipe over it with his tongue, groaning and making Bucky hiss. “Mmm," he murmurs. "You’re bleeding."

“Duh.”

Steve growls. “Be nice to your Alpha,” he Voices, and Bucky shivers pleasantly. Steve notices the reaction and gloats. “Hmm. Maybe we should start biting more often.”

“How often?” Bucky’s halfway through a yawn as he says it, and he feels Steve shrug against his back.

“Once a month?”

He chokes. “Steve!”

“What?” Steve’s snickering. “I like a well-scarred bondmark. S’romantic.”

“It’s fucking primeval is what it is, you caveman.” Bucky scolds, rolling his eyes. He clenches down purposefully hard on Steve’s knot, smiling at the surprised—Hngnn!—he gets for it. “We already do it on our anniversary every year.”

“And sometimes on Valentine’s,” Steve supplies.

“Exactly. Any more than that and people’ll think we have a fetish.”

“Well, maybe we do,” he purrs, kissing the bite. “And it is what the medical professionals are recommending, after all.”

“Ha, yeah.”

“... You’re really okay though?” Steve checks. “None of that bothered you? The Voicing, or the—”

“Shh. No. I loved it.” Bucky lets his eyes fall closed. He can still feel his pulse thrumming beneath his skin, bringing the delicious ache and throb of his glands to the forefront. “Every part of it,” he sighs.

Steve laces their fingers together. “Good. ‘Cause I take doctor's orders very seriously, you know.” He rumbles deep in his chest and gives a dirty grind against their tie. “We gotta keep you healthy, Buck. Gotta make sure you’re properly … stimulated.”

“You suck so bad,” Bucky groans. “Your permission to know my medical information is rescinded.”

“Aw, don’t be that way. I can dick you down again in like, an hour, if you want? Probably. Two hours, tops.”

Bucky yawns, humming as he pretends to consider it. “Tempting offer, but how ‘bout you cuddle me ‘till I pass out, instead?” he says, because he really does think the other night was a fluke, and that he’s destined to be awakened by a baby monitor within the next few hours. Steve wraps his strong arms around him and pulls them to lie on their sides. They spoon like that and enjoy the closeness while they wait for Steve’s knot to go down. Bucky gets goosebumps when Steve starts caressing lazily up and down his side. “Mm, that’s nice.”

“Mmhm.” Steve slots his fingers into the trigger points for the prosthetic. “Let’s take this off,” he whispers, kissing the shell of his ear.

It’s Bucky’s fucked up ear—a place where he’s usually squirmy and uncomfortable about Steve touching, let alone kissing, but right now it doesn’t bother him at all. Too many endorphins surging through his system, he supposes.

“Okay,” he agrees, since he doesn’t really love sleeping with the arm on anyway (he’s got this paranoia that one day he’ll sleep-punch Steve in the middle of a nightmare or something), and then lies there and listens to the sounds that the arm makes as it’s triggered to disengage from his body. He can’t actually feel anything other than some vague, mechanical movements deep in the arm’s very internal workings. It doesn’t hurt. And then it comes off, a sudden release of weight and tension that Bucky hadn’t even realized was there. He moans quietly at the feeling. “Nnh. Thanks Stevie.”

“You’re welcome.” Steve sets the arm out of the way and resumes his gentle stroking and caressing along Bucky's side, venturing up higher to where the anchor site for the arm begins, implanted permanently into his body.

Bucky can sense his husband looking down at it, can feel the pads of his fingers exploring thoughtfully over the texture of scars and metal edging. He sighs, feeling wistful. “Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like, if we’d met before?”

Behind him, Steve stills. He’s quiet for a long moment, and just when Bucky thinks he’s not going to answer at all, his caressing starts back up again and he hooks his chin over Bucky’s shoulder. “Sometimes, in a general way," he admits. "But then ... it wouldn't be the you I fell in love with, would it? We wouldn’t be us.” He worms his other arm under his waist and hugs them closer together. “Maybe we’d have less nightmares between the two of us, less therapy,"

Bucky snorts.

"But I wouldn’t choose anything but this. Nothing would be the same if we hadn't met the way we did, y'know? You probably would’ve stayed in college, focused on your career, maybe put off kids too long. I wouldn't have joined Shield, Peggy wouldn't have moved away.” He kisses the ruined edge of Bucky’s ear again, so tender and slow that Bucky knows he’s doing it intentionally. “Just think: Becca wouldn’t exist. And we wouldn’t have Sarah or Gabe, 'cause you and I never would’ve met.”

“We might’ve.”

“Mm, doubtful.”

Bucky grumbles, displeased at that hypothetical, and Steve hugs him and coos in agreement, “Shh. I know, I know. That would be awful. I’m just saying: you can’t trade the good for the bad. It’s a package deal. And you know what? I’m happy with my package.” He seals his mouth to the fresh bite wound and gives a powerful suck, popping off with a wet sound and a pleased growl. “Very very happy with my package.”

Bucky’s too gooey and in love and fucked out to get the delivery just right, but he at least manages to wiggle his butt against their tie and mutter out a tired but saucy little, “Mmm, yeah. I like your package, too.”

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flufftober · 2 months ago

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🍀🍂 Hello and welcome to Flufftober's (first) Fluff Bingo 🍀🍂

In our poll, nearly 50% of you voted for a handful of bingo cards to fill the other half of the year with more fluff before we jump right back into the excitement that is Flufftober - and of course, we're here to deliver 😊

Find all the important info, more cards, and all the prompts in writing below the cut.

We hope you like this event and our prompts, and now

Happy Creating 🥳

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🍂 our standard blog rules apply and you'll find answers to most questions on our FAQ post

🍂 aside from that, you can go wild: fill these cards however you like, as quick or as slow as you like, as often as you like, and use as many of them as you like. We just want you to have fun 😊

🍂 if there are prompts on the bigger cards you don't like, feel free to use the 1x5 cards as alternate prompts and switch them out

🍂 download the cards and tick them off once you've finished a square; make a post for every square or only once you have a bingo or even a blackout - it's all up to you!

🍂 as with all our events, this one will never close, you can always use these cards. If you need a timeframe/deadline because (like me) you'll never finish otherwise, consider these loose goals:

finish until July 1st when we release the new Flufftober list

finish during October, maybe by combining some of these with the Flufftober prompts

finish until the end of the year so you're ready for whatever event we plan for next spring

🍀 What about tumblr reblogs and ao3?

🍂 tumblr reblogs will still happen but not daily as you're used to during Flufftober. It will strongly depend on how many posts there happen to be at a time and how the modmin team will have time. But as long as you mention us and/or use the tag (and follow the rules, obviously), reblogs will happen

🍂 please use the tag #fluffbingo

🍂 feel free to also add the general #flufftober tag

🍂 please make sure to clearly show the fandom, either in the first few tags or noticeably in the post

🍂 contrary to how we do it during Flufftober, we will only use four tags during reblogs this time: #fluffbingo #fluffreblog #[fandom] #[your user name] - that means we will not tag any ships, characters, or which prompt you're covering

🍂 on ao3, our collection for this event is Flufftober Fluff Bingo

Prompts

We're going left to right, top to bottom!

🍂 5x5 card

Fresh Start

To-Do List

Craft Fair

Creature AU

“This was a bad idea.”

Exploring Together

Plushie

Secret Signal

“You’ll love it.”

Late Night

Hidden (...)

“It’s just so much.”

Free Space

Fake Dating

Carnival

“You’re the best!”

Royal AU

Missing the Other

Never ever, ever

Rainbow

Hanahaki

Pep Talk

“I really mean it.”

Hoodie

Movie AU

🍂 3x3 card I

“Where do I start?”

Famous AU

Traveling the World Together

Enjoying a Lazy Day

Task: Write in a tense you usually don’t write/write less than another tense

“You said you had it handled!” - “Yeah, well, I lied.”

Birthday

“Hey, wait, that’s mine.”

Direction

🍂 3x3 card II

“You’re late!”

Hospital AU

Grocery Shopping Together

Going for a Walk

Task: Write from a POV you usually don’t write/write less than another POV

“Could you not do that, please?” - “Spoilsport.”

Sunshine

“I don’t know, you decide.”

Concert

🍂 1x5 card - Smiles

Secret Smile

Relieved Smile

Honest Smile

Devious Smile

Teary Smile

🍂 1x5 card - Hugs

Soothing Hug

Hug in Celebration

Sleepy Hug

Hug from behind

Desperate Hug

🍂 1x5 card - Kisses

Kiss on the Hand

Kiss to distract

Goodbye Kiss

Forhead Kiss

Kiss on the Cheek

🍂 3x3 card - Tasks

Finish your WIP

Sort all your Ideas and/or WIPs

Edit an entire Chapter or Oneshot

Outline a Story

Work on that hard Scene that is giving you so much trouble it is holding you back

Finish the next Chapter of your WIP

Join in a Writing Event (this card doesn’t count 😉 but the others do!)

Finish a Oneshot

Dig out an old Draft and work on it

Have Fun and Go Wild 🥳

#fluffbingo #flufftober #bingo card #writing prompts #prompts #fluff prompts #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #art #arting #open to all fandoms #open to anyone #open to all content creators #open to crossovers #feel free to spread the word #feel free to reblog

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voiceoffenrisulfr · 1 day ago

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Paws for Applause - Chapter Five Eurasier

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> James "Bucky" Barnes(&) x Original Nonbinary Character(&) (Soldierbug&, pluralpoly)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> Actions have Consequences.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 2784

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (T) Ominous warnings.

𝐀/𝐍 -> Check it out below, or on AO3 here! Masterlist can be found here. Dividers by us!

<- Chapter Four

Prompts used; - ‘Date Gone Wrong’ – @anyfandomfluffbingo; - ‘Stealing Clothes’ – @eclipsingbingo; - ‘Everyone’s Queer’, ‘Web’, ‘“It’s Not Just Sails and Knots.”’ – @fandom-free-bingo (Gingerbread Edition); - ‘I’ve Built My Dreams Around You’ – Fandom-Free Bingo (Gingerbread Edition); - ‘Passed Out’, ‘Hiding in Plain Sight’, “‘He Should Never Have Come.”’, ‘Ominous Warning’ – Fandom-Free Bingo (Tolkien Edition); - ‘A Nerd in the Dark – Fandom-Free Bingo (Tolkien Edition); - ‘5 Times They Held Hands Platonically & 1 Time it Means Something More’, ‘Blatantly Staring at Their Bare Chest or Immediately Looking Away’– @julybreakbingo (Summer); - ‘”See Something You Like?” – July Break Bingo (4x4); - ‘Separation Anxiety or Cornered’ – July Break Bingo (6x6); - ‘Sensory Deprivation or Sensory Overload’ – July Break Bingo (7x7).

I awoke in the faint light of dawn, Mars’ body curled against my side, one hand wrapped in my shirt as they snored gently. My fingertips trailed through their hair, releasing a soft sigh from their parted lips, my own curling with a tender smile at their unconscious inhibition.

We’d kissed until the sun begin to rise, and then they had talked – endlessly enthusiastic to share stories of table-top campaigns and dog-related studies and little-known facts about flora and fauna of the world as they slowly succumbed to unconsciousness, until they eventually fell silent – mostly - as they passed out. I’d lain awake, unable to settle the staccato beating of my heart, watching a spider weave its web in the corner until my own eyes had finally grown heavy.

They sighed quietly in their sleep and moved closer, one leg shifting to drape over my hips, and I stiffed as they pressed against me, my half-hard length twitching at the pressure. I felt my breathing grow heavier, and bit back a groan as they shifted again, swallowing dryly.

I should move. I need to move.

You need to-

Control yourself.

Slowly, and with more than a little reluctance, I slid my body away, lungs seizing in alarm when they stirred a little.

“Hm… Buck?”

I was sitting on the edge of the bed by the time their eyes flickered open, and glanced back with a soft smile, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to their forehead while surreptitiously keeping my lower body angled away. “Good morning, beautiful.”

With a light blush, they reached out, and the feeling of their sleep-warm fingertips against my arm made me tremble. “Trying to sneak out?”

Their tone was light, but I detected the undercurrent of fear, and I scoffed, brushing my lips over theirs. “Only so far as the front of the building,” I assured them, inclining my head towards Zeus eyeballing me from his bed. “A little morning relief. I’ll be back in a few minutes, I promise.”

Struggling into an upright position, they yawned, back arching, and I grinned at the endearing mess of their hair, earning a deeper flush and a self-conscious hand raising to smooth the tangle in vain. “It’s bad, I know,” they chuckled, shrugging. “It always is, no matter what I do.”

“It’s cute,” I reassured them, cupping their chin in my hand to kiss them again, keeping my mouth light on theirs – I was finally about able to stand, and didn’t want to have to explain my persistent inability to move. “You’re cute.”

Grinning shyly, their hand trailed down my arm to slip into mine, squeezing. “Want company?”

I let out a quiet sound of joy and nodded, my grip tightening in theirs briefly. “That would be nice.” I stood as they slid from the bed, tugging my sleep-rumpled shirt over my head and searching through the holdall that contained all of my possessions for something somewhat cleaner with a morose sigh. “I need to go to a laundromat soon… Running out of stuff to wear…”

By the time I turned back towards them, Mars was sat motionless, gaze trailing over my exposed chest with lips slightly parted. Instinctively, my hands moved to cover the mess of scars at my shoulder – until I realised that their eyes weren’t lingering on the carnage, but instead moving over curves of muscle and sinew as their heart picked up. “See something you like?” I teased lightly, and they flushed, eyes flicking quickly away.

Despite my complaint about my absence of clothing, my sweatshirt found its way over their head while I was in the bathroom, and I paused with a snort in the doorway. “Comfortable?”

They grinned, the sleeves hanging far past their hands, and wrapped their arms about their chest happily. “Very!”

We were, for the first time in a while, spending the day apart. Mars reluctantly admitted that they should open the shop, and I begrudgingly confessed that my clothing situation was becoming dire.

Zeus accompanied me to the laundromat, his tail thumping gently as he sat beside my feet, the picture of pure innocence and professionalism. His settle training was coming along well, and he was more than happy to stay where he was told, contentedly watching the world go by – it was his leash manners that still required the most work, as accustomed as he was to being able to drag along anyone who dared hold the other end.

When the chatter and the sounds of the machines and the humidity began to make my breathing hitch and my head spin, I found myself sat on the floor with my back to a bench, my beloved companion lounged half across my lap to keep me grounded until the hitch in my breathing began to fade. Before… Everything, I’d never struggled so intensely with sensory overload – even the adjustment period for my heightened senses hadn’t proven quite so disabling.

My fingers twitched whenever I thought about Mars, anxiety at our being apart bubbling just below the surface. I marvelled at how invaluable they’d become to me in such a short space of time, so much so that despite my repeated insistence not to settle here and accumulate more things, I found myself spending the afternoon frequenting clothing and appliance stores, unconsciously creating a home in my small apartment.

I admired my handiwork as the evening wore on – fresh sheets on the bed and new curtains over the window, a hastily-constructed chest of drawers holding several new outfits and topped with a lamp – before changing. Mars and I had agreed to meet for a date in the evening, their joyous acceptance coming with a sweet blush that made my heart ache with adoration.

I was falling hard, and I knew there was nothing I could do to pull myself up.

“It’s not just sails and knots.”

We were walking down the harbourfront, their hand slipped into mine to keep their small fingers warm. We’d held hands before – an act of comfort and support – but it felt different now, a new kind of need in their grip. They were gushing enthusiastically about the ships along the shoreline, telling stories of the HMS Victory and the wreck of the Mary Rose, regaling me with stories of how the latter was raised from the depths despite its damage, and the former’s exploits in battle. I listened with an adoring single-mindedness as we walked for miles back and forth, lost in their passion and the breadth of their knowledge.

“You like ships,” I noted eventually, and they laughed, a hint of colour pricking at their cheeks.

“I do.”

We’d sat opposite one another in a small, intimate Italian – chosen after my own careful internet-based deliberation and eaten until we were fit to burst, the stroll opted for in an effort to ease the discomfort we both felt from gorging ourselves on bread and pasta. It was a mild evening, but the breeze on the water brought a chill, and eventually they began to shiver despite our ceaseless movement, and I gently directed them back toward the apartment.

We both grew quieter as we approached my building, anticipation making the air heavy. I’d told them I’d done some updates – I didn’t tell them that I was beginning to build my dreams around them – and they were excited to see it… But something unspoken filled the space between us, the fluttering of their heart audible to my enhanced senses.

It wasn’t until we were at my apartment door, the sound of Zeus snoring coming loud through the wood, that I finally pulled them closer, my lips meeting theirs with more urgency and longing than before. A soft whimper escaped them as their arms wrapped around my neck, and I grunted, lifting them easily against me, their legs locking around my waist as my free hand fumbled with the key in the lock.

Distantly, I was aware that something was amiss as I closed the door behind us, but their back found the wall and I pushed the thought from my mind, fingers roving and caressing, imploring and searching and-

“You got a dog.”

They yelped, and I quickly lowered them to the floor, whirling to face the intruder who dared violate my space.

Steve was sat quite openly on the sofa, his gaze averted to the mastiff who had opened one eye to consider us as we’d all but fallen through the door and disturbed his slumber. I exhaled sharply, relieved and annoyed in equal measure, and folded my arms across my chest, shifting to largely obscure his view of the person stood panting lightly behind me.

“Steve?” I snapped, jaw set. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He stood with a sigh, moving to pick up my lamp and consider it briefly before responding. “You’re drawing too much attention to yourself, Buck. The rumours are starting about the metal-armed man in the pacific northwest.”

I narrowed my eyes, irritated at the intrusion. “You’re the one who told me to live my life, Steve. That’s all I’m trying to do.”

“I can see that,” he replied softly, glancing at the figure half-hidden behind me. “Seems like you had a good night.”

“Hi, Mr. Rogers, I, um-”

“Leave them out of it,” I snapped, interrupting their sweet introduction with a hand reaching back, searching silently for theirs. “They’re- Look, I’ll be more careful, okay? You’ve made it more dangerous by coming all the way out here. What if you were followed?”

“Tony’s still at the compound – I’ve got Nat keeping an eye on him,” Steve replied, waving a hand. “And it might not be a matter of just ‘being more careful’, Buck! If Tony’s already heard the rumours, he’ll be starting to narrow down the range already, and it won’t take him long to figure out where you are.”

My heart thrummed in my chest, anticipating his next words as he glanced at Mars and then back to me.

“You need to move on, Buck. Your position is compromised. It isn’t safe here anymore.”

“All three, really?” I snorted, shaking my head. “Wasn’t that overkill? Any of those sentences would have stood just fine on their own; you’re always one for the melodrama, Stevie.” Mars’ hand tightened in mine, silently acknowledging the change, and I squeezed back lightly.

“Melodrama?” he repeated, shaking his head. “Buck, I risked everything to-”

“That’s not my name,” I interjected softly. The quiet breathing behind me hitched in surprise, and I glanced back at them, finding a warm, mahogany gaze locked on mine, comforting and enveloping.

“What do you- I haven’t called you James in- Fine,” he sighed, audibly frustrated. “James, I-”

“Winter.”

That one shut him up.

He simply stared at me in confusion and concern, mouth working wordlessly for a few moments before he regained his composure. “I-I’m not- I’m not going to call you that. You’re Buck. You’re not whatever they did to you- not some attack dog of HYDRA who-”

“I’m not Buck,” I interrupted, eyes narrowing minutely. “I’m… Buck-adjacent. I’m Winter.”

Steve’s eyes shot back to the person sheltered behind me once more, full of worry. “You- whoever you are… You should leave. I don’t think this is the best place for you right now.”

I felt them hesitate uncertainly before their hand began to slip from mine, but my fingers quickly tightened, turning bodily away from Steve.

“Don’t,” I murmured, the thumb of my free hand smoothing softly over their jaw. “Please don’t go, not unless you want to.”

Steve made a low sound of frustration, turning our attention back towards him, the hand in mine resettling in place as I looked away. “Look, I don’t care what you call yourself – Buck, Winter, whatever! He’s going to find you, and it isn’t going to be pretty when he does. He’s going to kill you, Buck! Why aren’t you listening to me?!”

“Excuse me – Mr. Captain America, Sir?”

I glanced back in surprise, Mars’ timid voice wiping away my own furious response. “What are you-?”

They ducked under my arm, sidestepping me neatly, and their arms folded across their chest. “With all due respect, Mr. Rogers, Sir – I, um… I think maybe you’re the one who isn’t listening, Sir. I’m sorry, but-”

“This doesn’t concern you,” Steve interjected, eyes narrowing minutely. “Look, I appreciate that you’re concerned about Buck – it’s sweet, really. But-”

I saw the change before spoke. His spine grew straighter, any uncertainty fading from his posture as he stared down my oldest friend, radiating annoyance. “You’ve been told – several times. His name is Winter – address him as such, or get out.”

Steve glowered, then hesitated infinitesimally when Greg didn’t back down, eyes flicking to me with uncertainty. “… Think about what I said, okay?” he muttered, fists clenching by his sides. “I’ll be in touch.”

He pushed himself past the pair of us sullenly, his eyes finding mine to stare imploringly as he moved around me. Whether he saw my irritation or something different – something very un-Bucky – was unclear, but he recoiled, mouth opening slightly before closing with the click of colliding teeth, and he turned his back.

“He should never have come.”

Greg and I were sat opposite one another on the sofa, my legs folded underneath me and the metal fingers tapping out an irregular pattern on the ceramic of my mug. He’d made us both a hot drink, and settled down to watch me with a concerned frown. “Was he right, though?”

My brow creased, and I cocked my head. “About Tony? I mean, yeah – if he finds us, it won’t be-”

Greg interrupted me with a shake of his own head, jaw tight. “That you should leave.”

I held my mug a little tighter, bristling. “Trying to get rid of me?” I snapped, eyes narrowing as I stared into my drink. “If you want me gone, you don’t have to-”

He rolled his eyes to interrupt me, his gaze soft. “That’s not what I meant, Win, and you know it.” I glowered some more, unwilling to let my irritation fizzle so easily, until he reached out to put his hand lightly on my arm. “I know you’re scared… But you don’t have to push us away, okay? I’m not trying to make you leave. I’m just asking the question.”

My glare flicked to his hand wrapped lightly around vibranium, and I softened minutely. “Yeah. I know.”

“We’d be heartbroken if you left,” he continued, inching infinitesimally closer. “Getting to know you guys has been incredible. And the pup,” he added, inclining his head pointedly towards the dog assessing us from the freshly made bed.

I blushed predictably, looking away. “Yeah… It’s been… I mean… You know,” I fumbled, shrugging a shoulder uncertainly. “It’s been nice.”

He laughed at that, the gravity of the moment lifting, and leant back a little. “I’ll try not to get too big-headed under your overwhelming praise, soldier,” he teased, shaking his head.

Snorting, I took a sip of my tea, leaning my side against the back of the sofa. “It has, though. Been nice, I mean. We haven’t…. Connected with anyone in a really long time. And never as us, you know? Not that we knew there was an us – before you folks, I mean. Or at least, not one that we knew about, I guess?”

He let out another soft chuckle, his temple finding the cushions alongside mine. “I know what you mean. I don’t think we’ve been quite so… Out-and-proud with anyone since… Ever, actually. Most people don’t understand. Some try to, but…” He let out a soft sigh, gazing off into the distance thoughtfully. “It’s a hard thing to grasp if it’s not something you experience.”

“It’s a beautiful and terrifying thing, to be known,” he added softly, his voice dropping. “There’s a lot of ways that being seen can get you hurt.”

I nodded and swallowed dryly, my gaze flickering to his lips. “There’s a lot of ways it can be good, though.”

He hummed in agreement, and my eyes closed as the back of his fingers skimmed my cheekbone gently. “… Winter?” I made a soft, curious sound in response, and I could hear the smile in his tone as he continued. “I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay?”

No sooner had my lips turned up and I’d breathed my agreement than his mouth was on mine; gossamer-soft and feather-light, it was unexpectedly delicate for this intimidating and resilient man – until I let out a hushed, contented sigh, and he groaned, hand slipping from jaw to hair to pull me closer to him with a hunger I’d more expected.

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bucktommybingo · 5 months ago

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WELCOME TO BUCKTOMMY BINGO !

General Guidelines:

Standard bingo rules apply: five in a row (vertically, horizontally, diagonally) to ‘win’. If one wants to fill in the entire card, or all three, feel free to do so, this is just for fun!

ALL types of creations count as fills - fic, art, gifs, etc.

disclaimer: there will be no acceptance of AI works. Do not tag this blog in any AI. This is an AI hate space.

You can use one prompt per creation OR try and wedge an entire line into one creation if you’re an overachiever (affectionate). If you score a full card by the end please make a master post for bragging rights!!

New works or WIPs that you've been looking for an excuse to finish accepted but nothing already posted / incomplete on AO3.

Tag this account to be reblogged: @bucktommybingo

Other hashtags to include: #bucktommybingo #bucktommy bingo

PLEASE make sure to tag correctly for works containing any of the major warnings on AO3 (graphic violence, character death, rape/ non-con, underage)

This is for fun and to encourage this Very Cool fandom 😘 No pressure to finish a whole card but that would be super awesome if you’re feeling it!

There are three different bingo cards so everyone can have the choice in what they want to do, if you don't want to do NSFW works, then the first card works just fine! If you want to do ONLY NSFW works than the smut card is just for you. If you've been looking for an excuse to delve more into the darker side of things, the darkfic card is for you.

This bucktommy bingo is run by a proshipper, hence the darkfic card, and there will be no censorship done here. there's no moderation. I'm only here to reblog people's works and encourage people to participate.

AO3 Collection here

Start Date: November 23rd

End Date (completed bingo cards/ masterlists should be posted by this day): March 6th, 2025 (aka the end of hiatus).

Text list of prompts under the read more.

HAVE FUN 🥳

1ST CARD:

BUCK 1.0

ROOMMATES

GAY BARS

MPREG

TOMMY'S HOUSE

CHEATING

AGE GAP

HURT COMFORT

ROAD TRIP

FIRST FIGHT

NEAR DEATH

A/B/O (omegaverse)

FREE SPACE (anything you want!)

JEALOUSY

OUTSIDER POV

FUTURE FIC

SPORTS

DIFFERENT JOBS

SOULMATES

ILLNESS

EXES

SOLDIER TOMMY

FAKE DATING

COLLEGE AU

MUAY THAI

SMUT CARD:

PUPPY PLAY

RING CUTTER

BREEDING KINK

PISS KINK

FIRST TIME

PRAISE KINK

EDGING

RIMMING

DADDY KINK

DIRTY TALK

BAREBACK

BDSM

FREE SPACE (whatever you want!)

COLLAR

ONE NIGHT STAND

PHONE SEX

SUBSPACE

CHOKING

SEX TOY

PWP (porn with plot/porn without plot)

ARMPIT LOVE

COCKWARMING

PUBLIC SEX

THREESOME

SOMNO

DARKFIC CARD

DUBCON

MONSTERFUCKING

SELF HARM

TORTURE

CHILD ABUSE

STALKING

GROOMING

HURT NO COMFORT

MOB/GANG

RESTRAINTS

BLOOD PLAY

DRUGGED

FREE SPACE (anything you want!)

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME

UNDERAGE

BETRAYAL

CAME BACK WRONG

PRISON

MCD (major character death)

POSSESSION

MURDER

ABDUCTION

SUICIDE

FORCED TO WATCH

NONCON

#bucktommy #bucktommyedit #tevan #tevanedit #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 fic

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ruckystarnes · 2 years ago

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Title: The Cold Lord of Beltane, Chapter Three Author: RuckyStarnes Rating: Teen Event: @lokibingo, @anyfandomfluffbingo, Square: B1 - There was only one bed | B1 - cuddling Characters: Loki Laufeyson, Niamh Words: 1,908 Warnings: Summary: Niamh readies herself for her marriage, and sneaks a peek of him before the ceramony. Type: Fic

The Cold Lord of Beltane Masterlist

Chapter Three

The night seemed to linger on, Niamh’s stomach rolling with what was to come later on. Not once did the Lord, whom she had come to known as Loki, touch her, which was strange. In the past, the cold lords were like barbarians, unable to keep their hands away from their brides. Loki had not. Little bits of doubt started to ease into her mind, wondering if she had offended him or did something wrong. Through the whole feast and dance, her eyes shifted from her lap to her new husband, ignoring everything around them. This time, she caught his eye, and he smirked.

“Nervous, my dove?” he asked, his hand reaching for hers for the first time. His long fingers gently grasped her hand, sending an odd sensation through her arm and into her chest, spreading a warmth she hadn’t felt before. She looked at him, eyes wide, not moving a muscle.

“The festivities should be over soon,” he replied softly as he leaned in near her ear. An involuntary shudder wrack her body, but she nodded anyway. He unfurled his fingers and patted her forearm before withdrawing his touch, and she found herself wanting his touch again. He leaned in again, closer this time and she could feel his hot breath at her neck and ear as he spoke.

“Unless you would like me to be a ruthless heathen, hoist you over my shoulder, and stalk out of here with you with no pleasantries exchanged with your elders?”

Niamh’s neck and cheeks burned, and she turned towards him, eyes wide. It was the first time she has looked at him since she had stepped foot in the tent. He pulled back only a fraction, a teasing grin on his face as his hand came up to brush one of her flaxen locks behind her shoulder. Gooseflesh pricked at her skin as her heart hammered against the bones in her chest.

He turned away from her and leaned in towards Sorcha, whispered something to her, and the elder nodded her head. Sorcha’s eyebrows hitched and a small smile formed on her lips before giving a curt nod to him. She was looking at his face again, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Let’s go, my dove,” he smiled, standing with an outstretched hand. Niamh stared at him, the unusualness of his appearance had her in awe. His green eyes shone with mirth, like that of a playful fox kit, the corners of his mouth were curved upwards like he was amused by anything and everything. One dark brow rose as he continued to look at her, waiting for her to take his hand.It only took a few more breaths before she slowly lifted her hand, placing it softly in his cool one. As she rose, his eyes never wavered from her, even though hers flitted around to every other face inside the tent.

“They don’t matter,” he said lowly, his long fingers wrapping around her hand gently. Niamh found herself looking at him again, his pointed, yet gentle, face calmed the nerves that built up within her.

He turned towards the crowd and cleared his throat. “Thank you everyone for this celebration. We shall see ourselves to our tent on our own. Have a blessed night.” And before Niamh could even register the look on Arwen’s face, he had whisked her out of the tent, setting off towards where the bridal tent she got ready in.

The silence that hung between them was oddly comfortable. Niamh noticed her hand was still in his, held gently, and his long legs were matching her pace, not dragging her off like all the other Cold Lords. He treated her with more respect than her community did for the elders. She had remembered the last few Beltanes, the husbands wouldn’t even stay for the feast, opting to literally carry off their wives to the bridal tent to consummate their joining.

When they got to the tent, he gently opened the flap and dropped her hand, waving her to enter before him. She hesitated, unsure of what to expect when he would join her and that flap closed. He looked at her with a raised brow, his eyes glinting in the dark.

“Would you prefer to sleep in your own tent for the night?”

Niamh looked at him with wide eyes and swallowed hard. He was giving her an option that she didn’t know existed. Each girl was expected to give themselves over on their wedding night. But this lord, her lord, was not expecting that. He was willing to forgo the consummation for her own comfort. But if Sorcha should find out…

“I–think I would stay here,” she managed in a soft voice, the first words she had actually said to her new husband. Husband. The word felt foreign to her but it brought an odd comfort, one that many other girls have said brought fear.

He lifted his hand, pausing before he could touch her face. His bright green eyes roamed over her face, looking like he was debating with himself on what to do. Whatever he was thinking, he never voiced it to her.

“All right, my dove,” he stated softly, “you shall have the bed and I will settle for the chair tonight.” He walked over to one of the chairs next to the bed and sat down, leaning back slightly as he watched her. “Would you like me to close my eyes so you can undress?” There was a smirk tugging at his lips, and it made Niamh’s cheek heat up.

“If you don’t mind,” she practically whispered. She watched as he closed his eyes, the smile growing but not once did he try to peek them open as she untied her laces.

She was in the bed, the covers pulled up to her chin before she spoke, letting him know she was settled. Only then he opened his eyes, his smile still present.

“Comfortable?” he asked, leaning down to untie his foot coverings, slipping them off and setting them off to the side.

“For the most part,” she replied as an involuntary shiver ran down her spine. There was still a chill in the air, and she couldn’t get it out of her bones. His green eyes raked over her. Her body and breath stilled as her eyes met his.

He didn’t say anything as he slipped off his foot coverings and adjusted himself on the chair. “Are you okay, my dove?”

Niamh hummed an affirmation, but her body betrayed her with a shiver. “Honestly,” she tried to convince him.

“I don’t think you are being honest with me, little dove.” He shifted to stand and knelt down by the bed. Niamh tried to will her body to fight the shiver that threatened to course through her body, but lost to it.

“It’s just a wee bit cold,” she replied softly through chattering teeth. “I’ll be fine.”

She watched as his eyes traveled over her covered body, before resting his gaze back on her face. Her hands curled into the blankets and pulled them up under her chin, refusing to look away from his gaze. He was captivating even though she was still nervous that he was her husband now. His hand came up, tentatively stroking her cheek with the knuckle of his finger, smiling when she didn’t flinch.

“I’m gonna ask again. Are you okay, my dove?”

Niamh found herself unable to speak, enchanted by the way he looked.

“Niamh?” His palm pressed against her cheek gently, his thumb gently caressed her cheekbone.

“It’s cold for spring,” she whispered, “Always is when your people come here.”

“I apologize,” he whispered. Again, his eyes roamed over again, frowning at the shiver she gave. “The others said they don’t keep other sheets or hides in the wedding tent so we’d have to share the bed.”

Niamh gave a small laugh and rolled her eyes. “My friend and I always assumed that the lords hid them so us girls would have to.” She didn’t pull away from him but another shiver rolled through her.

“I won’t pressure you into it. I can just lie on top of the covers tonight,” he offered, his hand wrapping around the hers that clutched the sheet under her chin.

“Sorcha will want to examine the bed,” she whispered as she looked at him, her body feeling warm from the way it burned from thinking about what was expected.

Loki gave her a mischievous smile. He pulled his hand away from hers and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small vial that held a dark liquid. “Unlike my fellow lords, I am not barbaric like them,” he replied, eyes twinkling with what only Niamh could describe as mirth. “So if you want to–” He rolled his wrist, waving his hand by his side “–stay the way you are, we can use this.”

Niamh looked at him, her eyes wide. “That’s–”

“Hare’s, so don’t let that pretty mind work it into something it is not,” he replied, but there was no condescending tone to his words. He was still smiling as he shook the bottle gently. “They’ll never know.”

“But if Sorcha decides to examine me–”

"Don't worry, dove, you're my wife now. I am not letting anyone subject you to any one thing you do not wish to do."

Niamh stared at him. He really was different from all the others that had come in the years past. She half expected him to force the consummation, not caring about her as a person.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He leaned back, the side of his mouth tugged upwards. “Anything for you, my dove.” She noticed his eyes roam over her form again, and she fought the shiver that threatened to wrack her body. “Are you sure you don’t need any help warming up? I can lay on top of the sheet for you, keep my hands to myself.”

Niamh worried her lip with her teeth before giving a slight nod, her body moving awkwardly under the fabric to make room for him on the bed. Loki’s gaze never left hers as he slowly climbed into the bed, laying on his side so she could have more of the bed space to herself. He propped his head up on his hand, looking down at her, the amusement was still present on his face. She still was as far away as she could be from him.

“Dove,” he chuckled, his green eyes slanting in amusement, “you aren’t going to get warm all the way over there.” His other arm reached slowly for her, pulling her closer to him, keeping his hand respectfully on her side. He didn’t hide the laugh when she made a sound that was close to a mouse squeak.

“I would have moved closer if you gave me a chance,” she groused out, her hands curling under her chin. Loki just raised a dark brow and looked at her. “I would have,” she mumbled, her head leaning forward. He didn’t move as he watched her curl into him, sighing softly at the relief of the warmth she got from him.

He chuckled, watching her nuzzle in more like a newborn baby has his hand played with her blonde tresses before placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Sleep, my dove,” he whispered, “we will figure it out in the morning.”

“Unless you would like me to be a ruthless heathen, hoist you over my shoulder, and stalk out of here with you with no pleasantries exchanged with your elders?”

“Would you prefer to sleep in your own tent for the night?”

“If you don’t mind,” she practically whispered. She watched as he closed his eyes, the smile growing but not once did he try to peek them open as she untied her laces.

She was in the bed, the covers pulled up to her chin before she spoke, letting him know she was settled. Only then he opened his eyes, his smile still present.

“Comfortable?” he asked, leaning down to untie his foot coverings, slipping them off and setting them off to the side.

He didn’t say anything as he slipped off his foot coverings and adjusted himself on the chair. “Are you okay, my dove?”

Niamh hummed an affirmation, but her body betrayed her with a shiver. “Honestly,” she tried to convince him.

“It’s just a wee bit cold,” she replied softly through chattering teeth. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m gonna ask again. Are you okay, my dove?”

Niamh found herself unable to speak, enchanted by the way he looked.

“Niamh?” His palm pressed against her cheek gently, his thumb gently caressed her cheekbone.

“It’s cold for spring,” she whispered, “Always is when your people come here.”

“I won’t pressure you into it. I can just lie on top of the covers tonight,” he offered, his hand wrapping around the hers that clutched the sheet under her chin.

“Sorcha will want to examine the bed,” she whispered as she looked at him, her body feeling warm from the way it burned from thinking about what was expected.

Niamh looked at him, her eyes wide. “That’s–”

“But if Sorcha decides to examine me–”

"Don't worry, dove, you're my wife now. I am not letting anyone subject you to any one thing you do not wish to do."

Niamh stared at him. He really was different from all the others that had come in the years past. She half expected him to force the consummation, not caring about her as a person.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He chuckled, watching her nuzzle in more like a newborn baby has his hand played with her blonde tresses before placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Sleep, my dove,” he whispered, “we will figure it out in the morning.”

#lokibingo #affb #any fandom fluff bingo #loki #loki x ofc #loki au #medieval!loki #loki x original character #loki x original female character

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