bucky: today is a day of running through hurdles.
sam: aren't you supposed to jump OVER hurdles?
bucky: whatever. fear is only something to be afraid of it if you let it scare you.
bucky: today is a day of running through hurdles.
sam: aren't you supposed to jump OVER hurdles?
bucky: whatever. fear is only something to be afraid of it if you let it scare you.
Lord Huron songs that me think of Sam Bucky:
“I've got a place in the world
And I found my way”
Meet me in the city
“Come on and meet me in the city
Get your courage up and take the highway down
You and me are gonna paint this town”
Bucky: Hello 911? Yes, hi i’m calling to say i accidentally raised my voice at Sam and i need to be arrested
911 operator: Sir, we talked about this
Then, two more dings. The elevator kept moving. Sam felt the pistol strapped to his leg. There was a huge bustle of businessmen and women, in suits and fancy wristwatches and incredibly neat forms.
More and more people came in and out, shoving Bucky and Sam against the wall and each other. It was very uncomfortable. Sam felt Bucky’s warm breath and touch, he felt his gloved hands and warm skin.
“Sorry,” Bucky blurted, their hips and legs grazed against each other as the room packed full of people continued “guess this is gonna be longer than we thought,”
“It’s okay,” Sam managed, trying to avoid his gaze on James’ lips, “it’s not the worst thing in the world.”
you elevate me by OhHelloFandoms123
Turns out someone, somewhere, somewhen, cursed the Winter Soldier. It’s been sitting under Bucky’s skin for years, untriggered and asleep, until Doctor Strange notices and pokes at it.
Bucky falls ill. The next morning, he’s turned into a domestic housecat. Sam sort of hopes it’s a prank but it quickly turns out it’s very much not.
WHO DID THIS Y'ALL. WHO. DID. THIS I LOVE YOU
Me after I finished seeing all the content on the Sambucky/Winterfalcon tag so far: >:[
Me, as an artist: *Thano’s voice* Fine, I’ll do it myself.
Bucky: *Complaining about not being allowed to wear jeans to a party*
Bucky: That guy right there is in jeans!
Sam: Bucky, that is a child.
I’ve only discovered Sambucky about maybe two or three weeks ago (I didn’t watch TFATWS when it first got released because I wasn’t caught up with the rest of the MCU movies yet) but it’s got me in this loving chokehold that I can’t break free from.
Like it lives rent free in my brain and stays there for eternity. I keep watching the show on repeat now like it’s too good. I just can’t get enough of Sambucky just being so domestic and fluffy, I love it.
SamBucky Firefighter AU for the winterfalcon bingo
(Yes- Bucky definitely started the fire)
Title: never asked anyone to save me, but if it's you, i'll take it [AO3 Link] Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson Rating: ❗NSWF/Explicit❗ 18+ only Warnings/Tags: Alpha/Omega Dynamics, Alpha!Bucky, Omega!Sam, cockwarming, unexpected fluff? Summary: I’m bad at summaries, but Bucky is an Alpha on the brink of going feral, denying himself his body's needs. Steve is someone who only just got his best friend back and can't bear to lose him to this, but can't help him being an Alpha himself. Sam is an Omega that could save him, but can he?
Chapter 1: for my Bingo Square "Alpha/Beta/Omega" Chapter 2: for my Bingo Square "cockwarming"
Sam enters the break room at the Wrong Time for a conversation he never wanted to hear.
“He can’t keep hiding in his room forever.”
“I know, Tony. I know. I’m working on it.”
“I only spared you because he’s your best friend, but I can’t anymore, you gotta know. You know what? I’m just gonna say it. I’m just gonna tell you, because it’s ruining my life and I can’t -”
“Tony,” Steve uses his Tony Voice, which is somehow exasperated yet still patient.
“I am literally afraid to send anyone into his room after his rut. There! Happy now? They come out scarred for life! It’s carnage in there, Cap, absolute carnage. Like a fucking hurricane. He needs to get his dick in an Omega like, yesterday. It’s literally costing me a fortune. I’ve had to buy four mattresses since he moved in here!”
The look on Steve’s face very clearly indicates he is not happy about it at all, and just closes his eyes, still standing with his arms crossed, like he’d simply fallen asleep standing up. Sam doesn’t blame him, because the image is terrifying.
“I’m sorry Tony,” Steve snaps. “But I don’t have any spare omegas lying around, do you? Besides, I’d rather it… not be a person on the receiving end. I’ll pay you for the mattresses, or whatever you need, he just needs more time. Please.” The edge in his voice is gone, leaving a defeated-looking Steve.
The way Tony huffs and throws his hands in the air as he walks out would normally tell anyone that they’re shit out of luck, but from where Sam’s standing, Steve actually has a good point right now, if he understands the story correctly.
“Sorry,” Steve sighs as he turns to him. “You need me?”
“Uh.” Sam had kind of forgotten what he’d come to see Steve about, but it certainly hadn’t been about his rampant Alpha best friend upstairs and now that’s all Sam can think about it. “That was… intense.”
“I know, I know. It’s bad, but you know how Buck is about letting people in,” Steve complains. “The worst part? I can’t do anything to help him. If I could, I would, I swear. But I… The serum changed me, and I can’t be what he needs. Sam, I don’t know what to do, it’s killin’ me to see it tearing him apart.”
And also his room, apparently, Sam thinks to himself while trying to tell Steve that there’s got to be a solution.
“He’s near feral, Sam,” Steve whispers, afraid and baby blue eyes downcast. “I just got him back, and I’m this close to losing him all over again.”
Hell in a handbasket, Sam can’t believe what he’s about to do.
He knocks on the door to Bucky’s room, a place he’s never set foot in and had never intended to. To call Bucky a hermit would be an understatement, and Sam is mildly concerned that the room is utterly trashed, and should’ve asked what hazards he might find in there.
“Access Denied,” FRIDAY’s voice rings out unhelpfully.
“Gee thanks, I hadn’t noticed,” Sam rolls his eyes. “This is a wellness check FRIDAY, you know it overrules security preferences of the resident.”
“Access granted, though I must caution you against entering,” she replies. An AI is warning him against going into an Alpha’s room, how is this his life? But the doors click and Sam waits for them to slide open, revealing a dark cavern. Sam nearly falls over from the scent alone as he stumbles into the wall and holds his breath just to think straight as his mind begins to throb.
Alpha, Alpha, Alpha, Alpha
Clearly, Bucky’s not on suppressants, though Sam supposes there’s no reason he should be, given that he spends a total of 0 hours outside these very walls. Still, it makes it annoyingly harder for Sam to concentrate.
He’s spent a good chunk of his life hiding the fact that he was an omega. Not because he was ashamed, but because people treated him differently when they thought he was a beta. Nobody in the Avengers towers knew, except maybe Nat. He just had to assume that she knew everything. Usually, people just assumed and Sam didn’t bother to correct them.
“James?” It feels too personal to call him Bucky, not when they don’t actually know each other that well.
There’s a shuffling noise somewhere in the room, though Sam’s eyes haven’t adjusted to the darkness yet.
“I came to check up on you,” he calls out again. “Steve’s been worrying about you.”
“Tell that punk to mind his own business,” a gravelly voice snaps harshly.
“You’ve met Steve, right?” Sam asks rhetorically. “You know it’s impossible for him to turn away. Especially not from you. I… I thought maybe I could try to help.”
Even in the pitch black of the room, Sam can see a silhouette of someone tall and broad, shoulders squared and body built like Steve’s.
“Ain’t something therapy can fix. Stop trying to help me,” the voice rasps again, like he’s not used to talking so much, or maybe he’d screamed himself hoarse at some point. “Just leave me be.”
“Do you want to go feral?” Sam thinks he understands a lot of what Bucky feels. It’s different, of course, but the principles are the same: guilt, trauma, questioning one’s self-worth. A veteran is a veteran, just that nobody on Earth has gone through what Bucky’s gone through.
“Maybe Steve will finally let you put me down.” It’s not really an answer, but it’s something that makes Sam’s heart twist uncomfortably.
“You’re not an animal to be put down,” he responds calmly.
“We’ll see.” There’s more rustling and Sam takes a few steps forward before a low growl rings in the mostly-empty room. Just as quickly as it comes, it stops.
“You’re... Not an Alpha.”
“I wouldn’t have come in here if I was,” Sam retorts. Seriously, did he come off as an amateur or something?
“Can you pass the memo along to Steve then,” Bucky mutters. Maybe if the situation weren’t so dire, he’d see that Bucky’s humour is a lot like his: laced with sarcasm. Sam can see the man’s shadow move, but hears no footsteps - it’s eerie, deadly, and it reminds him why it took SHIELD so long to find him in the first place.
“He’s just worried about you,” Sam tries again. “He… He’s devastated at the idea of you going feral.” As far as anyone knew, the only thing Bucky cared about was Steve. He had surrendered, for Steve. Agreed to be detained, cuffed, locked up, put on trial, for Steve. It’s the only bargaining chip they’d ever had on the assassin, the only leverage Sam could hope to use.
The silence that follows is tense and there's obviously a very fine line of what was ‘using Steve to get through to Bucky’ versus ‘using Steve to get to Bucky’ and Sam honestly isn’t sure where he’s toeing the line until Bucky makes a rumbling noise. It’s not exactly a growl, but not a content sound either.
“And what exactly is it that you’re proposing, counsellor?”
Sam’s a little flattered that Steve clearly talks about him to Bucky, then wonders how much Bucky knows about him, if it’s as deep as what he knows in return from the files that SHIELD’s collected on him, all the HYDRA secrets that they’d archived.
“Well, can we start with a light? And a window?”
“You shouldn’t’ve come in here without a filter,” Bucky chides, though there’s no harshness as Sam would’ve expected. Still, Bucky reaches behind one of his blackout curtains and cracks the window open. The breeze makes the curtain flutter, and for the briefest moment, Sam catches pale skin and light eyes surrounded by dark hair and it’s a glimpse of the Bucky that Steve would rave about. Beautiful. Bucky disappears and Sam hears a closing door, and before Sam can ask what he’s doing, he hears the shower run. Sam is baffled, but takes the time to step closer to the fresh air coming in, hoping it’ll help him clear his head. He tugs the curtain, just a little bit, just enough to see where he’s stepping, and he realizes Bucky’s room - his furniture - is just as dark even with the light. It only takes a few minutes, but the bathroom door opens again and the overpowering smell of Bucky has toned down, just a bit, though Sam can still smell something akin to a fresh breeze rolling off him.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he says quietly.
“You looked like you were going to pass out,” Bucky answers. “I don’t wanna be responsible for dragging your ass back into the hallway for clean up.”
“How considerate of you,” Sam deadpans. Bucky snorts, and Sam thinks it should be gross, but it’s kind of cute, actually.
“When’s the last time you knotted?” He cuts to the chase, trying to focus on his task at hand before his DNA starts to make him look for a life-mate in this mysterious man.
“A hundred years ago.”
“You’re only a hundred and seven, try again.”
“Are you shitting me right now?” It’s banter. Sort of. It’s easy.
“It was summer of 1943, we were just outside of Sicily and Steve was no longer an Omega. I told him we shouldn’t - we couldn’t. Dumbass insisted I knot him anyway, and it was dreadful.” Sam has no idea if Bucky is actually serious, but he thinks that if Bucky were going to joke about something, it wouldn’t be this.
“It’s the last time I remember, anyway. Properly. I know my body’s knotted, but I couldn’t tell you what decade to be honest. Or with who.” Bucky sounds resigned, cold, like he’s trying to detach that part of him and something about that ignites a fury inside Sam, that HYDRA violated Bucky’s mind, body, and also the intimacy of a mating, something that the man clearly cared for, given his history with Steve.
“I’m not really sure if I can, any more,” Bucky adds a little softer, voice unsure for the first time since Sam’s been here.
“That’s fucked up,” Sam says bluntly. “Your - it’s your body, your -”
“It wasn’t, back then. Not really, anyway.” Bucky’s tone is flat instead of angry, and Sam’s not really sure how to feel about Bucky being so nonchalant about his past trauma. The wind picks up and flicks the curtain again, a beam of light just catching half of Bucky’s face, where Sam now pieces together the strong, defined jawline with maybe a day-old stubble, his hair still a bit damp from his impromptu shower, and a glint of metal. Sam realizes that Bucky’s not even wearing a shirt, must’ve walked right out of the shower in god-knows-what.
He looks different from the photos Steve has in his room, but different from the ones in his SHIELD file, like the ones HYDRA had stored.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” Sam braves. Though still uneasy, he feels a resolve settling in his bones, a determination born out of want and less out of desperation.
“I’m not - no,” Bucky refuses. “I can’t.”
“You’re a Beta, it won’t work. I can’t. Even with Steve being enhanced - I told him it wouldn’t work. I… I hurt him. And I don’t want to hurt anyone, I promised I wouldn’t, never again.”
There’s something fragile and tender in his admission, a tone underneath the spiced bravado of an Alpha is someone scared and timid, someone who never wanted to hurt people but was forced to anyway. Bucky is someone who drowns in guilt for the sins that he’s convinced he committed, and it makes Sam blurt out, “I’m not a Beta.”
It stuns Bucky into silence, apparently.
“I’m an Omega, nobody knows,” Sam adds quickly. “But if there’s anyone who can help you, it’s me.”
“Why?” Bucky drops back to a growl this time. “I told him I’m not worth all this, Sam.”
“Because I want to.” Sam realizes alarmingly that he does want to, and not just for Steve’s sake. His name sounds too natural coming out of Bucky’s mouth, something he’d never thought of before now. “So let me.”
“You shouldn’t -” Bucky hisses sharply as his nostrils fill with the sweet scent of Omega, a scent that he doesn’t remember smelling for decades now, and it’s enough to make him fall on his knees, doubled over. Sam pockets the pheromone blocker that he’d snapped off his wrist, a neat little invention of Tony’s, and stays still. It’s a bit of a cheap shot, to entice Bucky with his scent, but if it’s the best way to convince him, so be it.
“Why are you…” Bucky loses his train of thought as his next breath just short circuits his brain again. Omega.
His body craves it, and he’s thankful for the darkness surrounding him as he feels himself getting hard from the scent alone.
“James, can I come to you?”
Come for me, Bucky’s traitorous brain supplies.
“Ngh,” is the noise that comes out of his mouth, but he’s too dizzy to be embarrassed. Sam’s scent grows stronger and Bucky shivers as he curls his fingers into fists against his carpet. He wants, and it’s bad - this is what it feels like to go feral, he’s sure of it. To want to tear something - someone - apart and sink his teeth in until he tastes blood.
“James?” Sam’s voice is louder now, closer, honey-sweet just like his scent.
“You need to get out,” he manages through gritted teeth as his body aches with a fire he can’t control for much longer, and it burns, burns, burns. “I - I’m there. I’m there, it’s too late, just tell Stevie I’m sorry -”
“Oh hell no, you are not giving up on me,” Sam chastises before dropping to his own knees in front of Bucky, legs parted and it makes Bucky shudder as the heady scent of sex becomes stronger. “C’mon, bed.”
Bucky’s been in the army, he’s been good at taking directions, but it turned bitter when HYDRA forced them upon him, and yet he doesn’t think twice about following Sam, letting his arm be yanked on until he’s somewhat standing, realizing that Sam has a hold of vibranium but hasn’t let go.
“I’m going to hurt you,” Bucky tries again to plead with Sam when they make it to his bed, but the other man isn’t having it. Bucky feels strong but gentle hands on his shoulders, pushing backward and down. He sinks easily atop his mattress as he feels every inch of Sam’s legs sliding against his own when the man straddles him.
“Someone who’s feral doesn’t worry about hurting others, James,” Sam whispers softly, his breath hot against Bucky’s ear. “You’re okay, we’re both gonna be okay. Now kiss me.”
Bucky doesn’t mind Sam’s commands as he caves into his urges, his hands on Sam’s hips and Sam’s hands cradling his face. Sam tastes as delicious as he smells, sweet and spicy, like cinnamon apple pie and hot cider. He moans unabashedly into the kiss and there’s no doubt about whether or not Sam can feel Bucky’s cock swelling in his pants, or the strong waves of arousal rolling off of him.
“Sam - please -” Bucky doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, but somehow, Sam understands.
“I got you, it’s okay,” Sam assures him and down they go, rolling against Bucky’s sheets where Sam is surrounded by the scent of wilderness, like a hot spring in the mountains and fresh pine, but also something sharp, a scent he doesn’t quite recognize.
“Fuck, come here, c’mere.” Bucky’s losing the battle against himself, the warmth and weight of Sam’s body too much for him to resist. He’s spent the past few months trying to tamper down the super soldier within but he can’t help it when he hauls Sam further up the bed and flips them around so he can bracket Sam’s body with his own. He catches a glimpse of dark brown eyes, with long, curled lashes fanning out. He kisses Sam again, hungrily, his member now throbbing with the rush of blood, and he nips softly at Sam’s lips to test the waters. When Sam’s fingers dig just a bit harder into his hips, he dips his tongue in, dragging out the most beautiful sounds he’s heard in ages.
His torso is bare and lit up like a livewire when Sam’s hands skim up his sides, fingers tracing patterns into his shoulder blades, nails grazing against skin. The rush is too much to bear, and he takes Sam’s shirt off with enough gusto it almost rips, but Sam doesn’t seem to mind.
Even frantic with hunger, it’s not entirely rushed, just two strangers trying to figure out a rhythm even if it feels like their bodies fit perfectly. When Sam finally reaches down Bucky’s pants, there’s a suppressed groan and Sam’s eyes widen at the weight he feels.
“Jesus Christ,” he curses as Bucky tries to breathe steadily through his nose.
“I won’t be able to stop myself,” Bucky rasps, body quaking with restraint. “You won’t be able to stop me either, and I don’t know how fast someone’s gonna be able to get here. I can’t… Can’t promise that I won’t hurt you.”
“I know,” Sam replies easily and gets the rest of their clothes off. He still can’t see Bucky very well, but he maps out Bucky’s entire body with his hands. This close, he can see the dull ring of red around Bucky’s irises, and he’s sure his eyes have blue bleeding in too. His eyesight sharpens and Bucky becomes less of a shadowed figure as the details in Bucky’s face come into focus. He studies the cleft in Bucky’s chin, the bow of Bucky’s lip, the way his eyes are burning with desire and he keens. Bucky isn’t the only one with a body that’s on the verge of breaking - it’s been years for Sam, too. He’d lost too much to love again, and then never had the time to try, even if he was ready, so wrapped up in being an Avenger, being a good friend, being a fake Beta. But he can feel Bucky’s cock, hot and leaking against him and he doesn’t bother trying to hide the steadily growing pool of slick that’s gathering between his legs.
“Fuck, you - you smell...” Bucky noses his neck, right under his ear and breathes deeply. When he licks a stripe up Sam’s neck, it’s unexpected and pleasant, something in Sam’s brain saying your Alpha is pleased has him smiling.
He wishes he didn’t succumb so easily to his genetics, but he has a feeling Bucky would be the last one to judge him. Rolling his hips, he urges Bucky to get on with it, but it appears the Alpha has different plans. What Sam isn’t expecting is for Bucky to slide down the planes of his abs all the way down to where an obscene slurping noise has Sam arching off the bed. Bucky’s tongue is patient and persistent and it turns Sam into a panting mess within minutes.
“For someone who - fuck - claims to have not had sex in decades, oh my god,” Sam moans. “You sure seem practiced.”
Bucky doesn’t respond with anything except a hum, which travels all the way up Sam’s spine, and he can feel Bucky’s lips curl into a smirk against his skin. Cocky bastard.
“Need. Your. Knot,” Sam punctuates.
“Patience,” Bucky says, voice almost low enough to be a command, but he doesn’t do that to Sam, doesn’t once use his Alpha voice. Sam doesn’t know how or when their roles got reversed, how he became the one frenzied with lust. He doesn’t know where Bucky summoned this willpower from, he’s never met an Alpha with an Omega laid bare beneath them who could stop themselves from just taking and taking.
Yet, Bucky slips his fingers in, and he barely gets to scissoring them before Sam feels the rush of an orgasm that explodes when Bucky’s tongue licks a hot stripe right up against him, and he bites back a strangled cry as his body shudders beneath Bucky’s ministrations.
“Bucky, c’mon,” Sam says softly. It’s the first time Bucky hears Sam say it, instead of James, like they’re past the formalities and it’s so soft that Bucky can’t help but plant a kiss to Sam’s thigh while his fingers continue to work Sam open. He refuses to hurt Sam, a man that’d come into his gloom to try and save him before he drifted off into madness. Reluctantly, he withdraws his hand, Sam’s fluids an intoxicating scent and crawls back to Sam, who brings him down for a hungry kiss. Sam’s legs pull Bucky flush, Bucky’s cock rubbing against Sam’s entrance.
“Gotta go slow, trust me,” Bucky murmurs before he finally lines himself up. He’s nervous all of a sudden, because he knows without a doubt that he’s going to knot Sam, that he feels safe enough and good enough that he couldn’t stop it if he tried.
Sam very nearly tries to rush him again, but is glad he doesn’t when he feels the stretch of Bucky pushing inside him, even with the copious amounts of slick he’d produced. He moans with each small rock of Bucky’s hips as the Alpha sinks in, inch by inch.
“Takin’ me so well,” Bucky sighs happily when he’s bottomed out, and Sam feels so full, so whole. “Sam… M’not sure I can hold back any more.”
“Please,” Sam digs his heel into Bucky’s thigh. “I can take it.”
“I’m sorry,” Bucky manages before rearranging them so he could hitch Sam’s ass up, reaching impossible deeper and Sam’s toes curl at the shift in angle. He doesn’t get to ask what Bucky’s apologizing for because the first snap of Bucky’s hips punches the air from his lungs and Bucky’s resolve has completely crumbled. He buries his nose in Sam’s neck, teeth just grazing Sam’s scent glands and with one arm underneath Sam’s hips, he starts to pick up the pace. He never brings his teeth down, no matter how badly wants to. Sam goes from feeling full to being ravaged, and there’s a twinge of pain that comes with being unaccustomed to being with someone.
“Bucky,” Sam whines in his ear, pitching higher than usual. He feels more than hears Bucky’s purr, a low, constant rumbling from Bucky’s chest to his own. In Bucky’s space, his bed, nonetheless, and knowing that Bucky’s comfortable enough to let himself purr makes Sam’s heart swell. Bucky’s purring is all-encompassing like a weighted blanket, as he thrusts with abandon, Sam’s body burning up from the inside as his body stretches to accommodate Bucky.
“Ah, Bucky, Bucky!” Sam cries, his nails pressing hard enough to leave crescents in Bucky’s skin. His muscles clench in anticipation, gripping Bucky’s cock and he almost sobs as Bucky carries on harshly. He tries to relax his body but Bucky lifts him off the bed, arms wrapped protectively around Sam. Chest-to-chest, Bucky sits on his haunches and bucks upward, driving himself as deep into Sam’s womb as he possibly can with each snap of his hips. He clings to Bucky’s shoulders like a lifeline, knowingly planting himself on top of Bucky’s glands there, and wills himself to stay conscious even when the daylights are being fucked out of him. Each drive of Bucky’s dick inside him makes him gasp for air, feeling raw and delirious.
“Mine,” Bucky hisses. He has to force himself away from Sam’s neck, away from where he wants to put his mark so badly. Instead, he clamps down on Sam’s collarbone, close to the shoulder, and feels the tidal wave of his orgasm come crashing into him. He comes for what feels like ages, a release that was years in the making. His body instantly feels lighter, his mind less hazy than it’s been the past few months.
“Bucky,” Sam says again, slurring. It’s the only word he remembers right now, so it comes out as a mantra, over and over, as his hands tangle in Bucky’s hair. He comes to rub their noses together, and their scents mingle with each other in perfect harmony. It makes Sam’s brain foggy with pleasure, the Omega inside screaming mate, mate, mate.
“M’sorry, sweetheart, hang in there,” Bucky whispers as he lays Sam back down gently, his knot twitching as he’s finally emptied the last of himself in Sam. He doesn’t remember what it’s like to be tired as an enhanced being, but he feels it now: a bone-deep exhaustion mixed with content that brings him closer to sleep than anything else. The euphoria is almost enough to make him close his eyes and sleep, but he has to take care of his Omega, first.
“Don’t apologize,” Sam says, petting at Bucky’s hair while his heart tries to calm down from Bucky’s ‘sweetheart’. It feels too close to a claiming, too much like he already belongs to Bucky. “Why do you keep apolo - oh!”
Bucky’s knot is slow and steady, Sam hadn’t even noticed it growing until now, pressed against his walls and growing still.
“Fuck,” Sam whines. “Holy shit.”
“I told you.” Bucky’s voice sounds wrecked and pitiful. “I told you I could hurt you! You shouldn’t have - fuck.” The pillowcase tears beneath his hand.
It’s impossible to describe the feeling; of Sam being filled to the brim and pushed further still, of Bucky being gripped so tightly he feels like he just might come again.
To Bucky, it feels like Sam is milking his cock for every drop, and the Alpha in him preens with the thought of plugging Sam up, making sure there’s not a single drop spilt. HYDRA may have destroyed any part of him that could sire children but they didn’t, couldn’t, burn the thought out of his mind. He has Sam beneath him, legs wrapped around him, and he irrationally thinks about how perfect this breeding would be, pictures Sam carrying his children, and his heart beats a little wilder.
Sam can’t process any words, just bites his lip to silence himself while he focuses on not moving whatsoever, afraid that any movement might literally tear him. Bucky’s knot was huge. He knows the Alpha is already feeling guilty, so he’s careful not to whimper, not to mewl. His legs feel weak, so he lets them drop, slowly, but even that’s enough to make him lose his breath, and for Bucky to shudder above Sam.
It takes a minute for Sam to realize that Bucky’s staying perfectly still above him, in what has to be the least comfortable position possible. He gently pats Bucky’s side, tries to coax the other man to lay on him, and tells Bucky that he can take it. The stubbornness is evident when Bucky just kisses the top of his nose, and doesn’t change positions. At least, he doesn’t actually seem to mind holding his own weight, super strength and all that.
“You’re making me tired just looking at you, come on, I got a better idea,” Sam says as he’s careful to only make small, slow movements to get Bucky on board. “I’m assuming you can take my weight, yeah?” Bucky nods, so Sam has him gently flip their positions, with Bucky leaning against his headboard, lap full of Sam. Bucky’s knot has finally stopped growing, but it seems they’re going to be bound for a while, which gives Sam a lot of time to think about what had just transpired between them.
“Can I… See you?” Sam asks. It’s not like an Alpha, in the midst of his serotonin rush could possibly deny his Omega anyway. He lazily swats at the curtain behind them, making Sam smile before he moves it aside properly. The Sun is almost setting, so the light isn’t too harsh, and when Sam looks down at his partner, finally gets a good look at him, he smiles brightly.
“You…” He trails off, because he wants to say you’re so fucking beautiful but he’s not really sure how Bucky would feel about that. He studies the sharp edges of his features but the softness of his expression, tries not to stare at the scarring on his shoulder that he’s already got burned into his brain from studying Bucky’s file. He traces the lining between vibranium and flesh, and Bucky’s eyes fall shut, but doesn’t go to stop him.
“Angel,” Bucky rasps, his arms pulling Sam closer, until Sam’s rested in the crook of his neck and he shuffles them carefully down the bed, throwing a blanket
Did Bucky just call me an angel?
Sam wants to talk, to figure this out, but Bucky throws a blanket over them, and Sam can hear a content humming noise, along with the steady beat of Bucky’s heart. Bucky’s releasing pheromones that scream to him as an Omega, his scent so alluring that Sam takes deep, long breaths in, and eventually falls asleep.
When Bucky wakes, Sam is still atop of him, a comfortable weight and soothing presence. Sam’s scent is sweet as ever, sweeter than before, even. The Sun’s gone down, leaving the sky streaked with purples and oranges that shine on Sam’s face. The Omega looks peaceful - a sort of peace that Bucky’s not sure he remembers experiencing. Somehow, they’d both drifted off despite being essentially strangers. He’d always thought of Sam as Steve’s friend, imagines that Sam knows him as the same thing if he was generous, or maybe that half-feral brainwashed assassin, if Sam was the honest type.
He can’t pinpoint when he’d broken down, when he thought it would be a good idea to get involved with an Avenger, for Christ’s sake. But Sam, bundled in his arms, felt… right. When he and Steve had met on the war front, they had still loved each other, but things were… different. It'd taken some fumbling, but they found their footing again, as friends. That, they were still familiar with.
This, with Sam, was the first time he’d felt that sense of want and the possibility of something more again, his body functioning like he remembers it to. The endorphin rush had left him a boneless, happy mess, but now that it’s over, Bucky begins to worry.
An uncomfortable feeling stirs in his belly at the thought of Sam waking up, patting himself on the back for a job well done and leaving. Maybe he’d report to Steve that Bucky would be stable for at least another two to three months, maybe Steve would do something stupid like set up a.. A rotation of Omegas for him and -
“Bucky?” Bucky’s eyes widened after realizing he’d been so lost in thought.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” he replies. True to his word, he’d kept entirely still, hadn’t moved an inch since he awoke, still seated inside Sam even if his knot had since deflated and he’d gone soft. He’d been afraid that any movement at all would dislodge the slumbering Omega.
“What time’sit?” Sam mumbles sleepily.
“Just after sundown.” Bucky’s voice sounds strange to his own ears, soft and gentle, just like his fingers that trace an unknown pattern into Sam’s shoulder.
Bucky wants to ask if Sam’s going to stay, and if not, a part of him is tempted to keep him here anyway. Instead, Sam shifts onto Bucky’s other side, and Bucky breathes shakily through his nose as his cock twitches with interest again.
“Y’need to go again?” Sam asks nonchalantly, like he isn’t possibly saving Bucky from spiraling into an aggression-filled, lust-fueled frenzy and like they hadn’t just gone from barely knowing each other to basically mating sex. From the moment Sam had walked in, Bucky’s body had started reacting. At first, he’d thought it was simply trying to get him to knot anyone but Sam hadn’t even had a scent. Then he’d considered that his body was so touch-starved it didn’t matter who it was, until Sam started talking and Bucky could feel a tremble down to his very bones. He’d speculated, but when Sam had taken off his scent-blocker, Bucky knew.
“No, I’m -” He hisses through his teeth when Sam clamps down around his half-hard cock, the wet, hot pulsing making him scrunch his eyes shut.
“I can go again,” Sam offers.
“Wait,” Bucky pleads. If they go again, Sam won’t have a reason to stay. He’ll be done with his mission, and Bucky doesn't know if he’ll ever come back. Sam leans back to look at him, but he hangs onto Sam tightly, not wanting him to see the desperation in his face, the ruby red of his Alpha eyes, glowing with satisfaction.
“Can we stay like this, just for a while?” Bucky likes the feeling of Sam around him, on top of him, in his nest - he knows his body is commanding him to mate, but he bites his lip hard as he can manage.
Sam begins to purr, a pleasant buzzing noise in Bucky’s ear, reverberating against his skin, and his whole body melts in an instant. He can’t help but purr back, and even that sounds like a melody to his ears. Sam closes his eyes again, lets Bucky stay inside him until he softens, and wonders if maybe, just maybe, Bucky would let him stay in this nest in return.
For WinterFalcon Bingo 2021! [Bingo Square: Alpha/Beta/Omega & cockwarming]
For See also: [overall masterlist] & [Giveaway]
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So you’re going to tell me they’re not in love? False. Absolutely and completely false. Argue with the wall.
The blue and white petals in his hand looked so soft and innocent; you'd look at them and deem them unable to hurt anyone. But here they were, killing Bucky bit by bit.
My dear @madamshamanghostbox 's art for my fanfic The Trail Of Petals ~<3
“We cannot keep them,” Sam said, sighing as he looked back at Bucky. He now had the white kitten on his shoulder, claws digging into his henley for dear life, and another in his hand, scratching beneath its chin. He had a dopey grin on his face, and was reaching for a third kitten as Sam continued, “They’ll tear everything up. We just moved in here.”
Bucky nodded, glancing around at the sparsely furnished house they’d rented. It wasn’t far from Sarah’s, a simple one story home on a half-acre of land. Sam had groaned at the upkeep on the lawn, but Bucky said he didn’t mind. That he looked forward to something as mundane as mowing the grass.
“We can set them up in the guest room,” Bucky said. “Just until we find homes for them,” he added, seeing the look on Sam’s face. A grey and white spotted kitten scrambled its claws against the cardboard, finding purchase and lifting itself over the edge.
Captain America and the Winter Soldier and the Box Full of Kittens by Rubick for Huntress79
Bucky is really good at giving flowers. He’s elegant and kind, if a little akward about it, a joke or compliment at the ready.
Unless it’s Sam. Bucky just ends up throwing the flowers in his face.