Chapter Text
“What are you reading, Buck?” I came into the bedroom to see him shirtless on the sofa, only his bare shoulders and dark waves visible from the entry.
“Lockley loaned it to me.” He looked up, looking a little startled and trying to cover it. “Said I’d appreciate it.”
This was new… I never snuck up on him. “It certainly seems like you are.” I leaned over the back of the couch behind him. “What could possibly have the White Wolf so engrossed that I could surprise him?” He blushed a little and I ran my hands over his shoulders and down his chest so I could nuzzle down his neck, but I saw the title before he closed and set it aside face down. “I can’t believe Jake has you reading that kind of smut,” I teased, glancing down at his fully tented lounge pants.
“Cookie…” he groaned in embarrassment. Then his breath hitched when I nipped at his ear.
“Was that the part where she finds out he’s an Omega? Because he goes into heat?” The flush of embarrassment I got from him was absolutely worth the tease. I chuckled against his neck. “I’ll have to remember you liked that part.” I kissed the side of his neck and pulled away.
_________BUCKY_________
“What’s this?” Bucky said at the little gift bag sitting on his dresser.
“It’s a gift.”
“Yeah, I got that, sweetheart. But what for?”
“Do I need a reason?” She just shrugged. “Because I thought you’d like it, of course.”
He picked up the gift bag. Then he looked inside and felt his face ignite as he nearly dropped it. “Why the hell would you…”
“I thought you might enjoy the roleplay.”
He gave her a confused look before he pulled the dildo out of the bag. It was of a respectable size, nothing intimidating, not compared to him or Steve anyway, with a slight upward curve to it and nearly the same color as her skin. Then he saw what else was in the bag. He pulled it out and it took his brain a moment to make sense of the collection of straps and its central ring. Then he looked up at her again, feeling his ears go hot.
“You’re always allowed to say no, Buck. I know sometimes I act too abruptly because I feel something and I forget we didn’t actually talk about it. You might not even be ready to talk about it, and that’s okay, too.” She gave him that gentle smile she had that made him feel safe. “No expectations.”
“There will never be any expectations I have on you, your body, or your feelings.” He relaxed a little at the familiar phrase, reminding himself she would never press him. “It’s… I think I need a minute to consider the idea. I thought you were kidding.”
“That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything new, or anything at all. Tonight is just supposed to be us time, and we can spend it any way you like.”
He gave a little nod, rubbing the straps between his fingers. They were soft, like she’d already taken the time to break them in so they wouldn’t chafe. “We can talk about it.” Then he met her eyes again, warm and soft and full of that love they always held that just felt like home. “I didn’t expect you to be so enthusiastic about the idea.”
She just gave him that look that said he might be in some amount of very enjoyable danger, coming the few steps toward him. “I’d never kid about making a partner’s fantasy happen.” She gently took the bag and harness from his hands to drop them on the bed and then wrap her arms around his waist. “I’m going to open the wine, and then we can talk. …or whatever else you’d like, love.”
What he’d like. God, it’s been nearly three years, so long since he finally told her he was hers, and his brain still stalls out when she asks with all the patience in the world what he wants. Then she gives him space to catch up and he loves her more than he thought he could. He pressed his lips to hers and then watched her pull away and move across the room. Like he always did. Gauging her pain, how much she had on her mind, looking for the things she didn’t tell him. Just watching how she moved through the world. She was moving okay today.
He was pretty sure she knew he watched her a lot, but there was no way she knew he always watched her. Like a waypoint. She was his polestar, his magnetic north. His eyes would always come back to find her in any room. He would always come back for her.
“What?” She regarded him with that little bemused smile she got sometimes, like she didn’t understand that she was everything to him. She reminded him who he was, who he wanted to be, and he still couldn’t believe she wanted him just as much. He was pretty sure she couldn’t. It wasn’t possible for anyone to love someone as much as he loved her. And then she gave him that look, or he touched her and felt her love, that feeling like hot butterflies that started low in his gut and grew until it felt so big and full like he’d explode and fuck he proved himself wrong again because he loved her more than he had five seconds ago.
He just shook his head. He could never explain it to her, but he swore to her and himself that he would show her every damn day. He took the glass of wine she offered him and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close like she belonged and pressing his forehead to hers. “I think I want to talk about it.” He drew her with him to sit on the bed with her in his lap, just how he liked her to be when they had what she liked to call ‘real talk’.
She settled astride his lap. “Okay?”
“Okay,” he nodded. “Real talk.” It was the signal that difficult words were going to happen, either to say or hear, and there would only be safety for whatever those words were. Because he was safe with her.
“Okay.” She relaxed against him and he could feel her, calm and curious, maybe a little excited, and it helped him to start talking.
“I guess it started that one night. The night Steve gave us his dog tags.”
She smiled, just a shadow of that menace smirk of hers behind it. “That was a very good night.”
He huffed, “Yeah, it was. But when you threatened to peg Steve.”
She chuckled a little. “I think threaten is a strong word…”
He grinned. “For him? Threat.”
There was that look again, like she saw something he didn’t and he was going to like what she did as a result. “And for you?”
“I… I think I was wondering how you would do it. How it would feel different.”
“And how did that make you feel?” She took a sip of her wine.
“I wasn’t sure then. It turned me on, but it was kind of embarrassing in a way I didn’t expect.”
Her head cocked a little, curious. “How so?”
“Not for what it was, Steve and I do enough of that.” She smirked, but he continued before she could say something ridiculous, like calling it ‘butt stuff’. “But that it was you. It felt strange, the idea of you doing that to me.” He huffed. “Maybe in some ways I still have 40s brain, even though I’m not straight.”
She gave him an understanding smile. “And then what happened?”
He couldn’t help but blush a little under her attention, her focus. God he was pathetic for her. “You caught me reading that damn book.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been able to sneak up on you before.” He groaned and she just reached up and brushed his hair back. “I just mean that I was surprised how engrossed you were in it.”
“It was a terrible book. I can’t believe Lockley convinced me to read that shit.” She laughed and he continued. “But that one part. Where the female alpha was scenting the male omega and figured out he was going into heat…” Her hand was resting against his jaw, stroking idly with her thumb and all he could feel was a gentle curiosity. “Don’t get me wrong, I know it was real ‘problematic’ as Pietro would say.”
“Bucky, we are allowed to be turned on by things we wouldn’t necessarily want in real life. That’s the fantasy part. I think everyone here is adult enough to know the difference between fun fantasies and reality.”
He met her eyes that held nothing but trust and not a hint of shame for either of them and something in his chest loosened. “Would you do something like that to me?”
She gave him that proud smile and he felt those hot butterflies filling up his chest again. “We can definitely talk about that.”
So they did. They talked until he felt relaxed holding the idea in his head and he was able to tell her what he liked about the idea and what he didn’t.
“I like the idea of being able to scent out something and have people understand it. At least broad concepts,” he said later in the evening over wine while they cuddled on the bed, any thoughts of actual sex forgotten in place of the connection he felt being vulnerable with her. “It reminds me a little of what you do.”
She made a thoughtful noise. “I wonder if I could do that.” She got that look she had when she was figuring out how to do something that may or may not be equal parts insane and amazing. “If I could channel a particular vibe like that. Be selective.”
“But you can’t lie. You can’t push something that you don’t feel, sweetheart.”
“No, I don’t mean like that. Not quite like acting either, but that’s closer. Something that’s there, but maybe more of a background vibe, bring it closer to the front. I know I can direct my own thoughts pretty well most of the time.” He gave her a look like he wanted more information and she smirked. “I used to work at the Xavier School remember? Best way to keep nosy ass telepaths out of your head is thinking about something they find unpleasant and thinking it really loud.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he chuckled.
“But, yeah, I wonder if I could throw some spice on our little scene like that.” She sat up and looked like she was concentrating. Then she held out a hand. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in him when he sat up with her and took her hand.
It took a second, like it did when she had been holding herself in, her brow furrowed in that way that made him want to kiss between her eyes. Then he felt it, like the memory of a warm radiator on a snowy day or a hug from his mother or a belly full of his favorite meal. “Home…” he breathed.
“You.” She grinned and it was like the sun hitting his face and he couldn’t help but tackle her to the bed and kiss her senseless.
_____________________
It was a bad mission. Loud, messy, and expensive, it was the worst kind of victory. They got it done, but they paid for it in blood and scars. Bucky, Natalia, Jack, Lockley, and the Scarlet Scarab. They got home and she wasn’t there. Her usual note on the fridge saying she went to the market. He and Jack grabbed sandwiches and slogged to their rooms. None of the team had gotten more sleep than a power nap in days. Bucky and Jack least of all because they needed less.
He ate, showered the sweat, grime and blood away, and fell in bed. She’d changed the sheets. Probably this morning, they didn’t even smell like her. They’d been in Madripoor two weeks and he was so tired. He just wanted to bury his face in the curve of her neck and feel her hands smoothing the knots under his shoulder blades. His whole body ached, left side of his chest and back burning, radiating pain from the connector plates. He hated not having it, but he was too tired to carry it right now. He put his arm in the safe and went looking for what he needed. He didn’t even know what it was. He just couldn’t settle without her fingers in his hair and her soft voice telling him he was home.
Then, he paused at the laundry hamper. She’d been doing laundry, so there wasn’t much there. One of Steve’s hoodies she liked to steal and a pair of his own baggy workout shorts. She wore their clothes when they were gone. She told him once it helped to keep her centered, like they were still close because she could smell them. He remembered the ugly red sweater she’d made for him and how using it for a pillow got him through bad nights. He picked up the hoodie. It smelled like them. Steve and Cookie. Home, lazy mornings waking up in a puppy pile on the bed. He pulled it on. He picked up the shorts too. It smelled like her. He buried his face in it and inhaled. He felt pitiful as he spotted her favorite robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door and grabbed that too, but he just wanted her to be here. He was so tired…
He crawled onto the bed and collapsed, face buried in the shorts and robe, inhaling greedily. It wasn’t the same at all, but it helped enough that he could doze off.
He woke to her warm breath against his cheek and her sweet voice by his ear. “Hey, love.” He groaned a little, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “It was a bad one, huh.” It wasn’t really a question, she knew. She’d probably been briefed already by Nat.
He just nodded and tried to fight down the whine that threatened to crawl from his throat. He knew he was safe here. Safe to be tired, safe to be in pain, safe to be weak. But there was a limit. Not for her, he knew she’d accept every whimper and sob. For his own pride.
She knew anyway. “Oh, love, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got home. I thought I had time, but Mekih kept me talking at the spice shop.” Her hands were running soothing lines over his back, and then she noticed. “Oh…”
He groaned, pushing the clothes away from his face.
“Oh, Buck, no…” She stopped him. “Please don’t. It’s okay” Her voice was so warm and soft against his ear. “It makes me feel so good that I’m so comforting to you.” She tucked his hair back behind his ear and he started to relax a little. “That you want me close like this when you don’t feel well.” She fingered around the collar of the hoodie. “Steve, too.” She kissed the hinge of his jaw and he tilted his head a little. “Mmm… If this is what you feel when you see me wearing your clothes, I get it now.” She feathered soft kisses down his neck and it was like something unfurled inside him under her touch.
One of her hands slipped under the hoodie to slide around his waist and he shivered. He felt her smile against his neck. “Sorry my hands are cold.”
He clasped her hand to his skin “S’ok… Was getting hot.”
“Do you want to take this off?” He nodded and shifted to sit up. All he wanted right now was to feel her skin against his and let her take care of him.
She pulled back and helped him tug the hoodie off. Her eyes grazed over the empty shoulder socket, the half healed wounds and bruises over his torso. Then she cupped his jaw in her hand and turned his face to her for a gentle kiss. “What do you need, love?”
“Need you, ma’am.”
“You need me to take care of my Sarge?”
He nodded against her face. “So tired. Wanna feel you.” Then the next words fell from his lips almost before he realized he said it. “Need my alpha.”
“Bucky, I don’t think a full scene is the best idea right now.”
He shook his head. “Not everything. Not all of what we’ve talked about. But I want you to touch me. I wanna feel you everywhere. I want… safe.”
She looked thoughtful, but not like she was going to refuse him. “Okay. But nothing we haven’t done or practiced before. I’m not aiming to subspace you, but if you do it’s okay. I’m not going to even get close to your limits. I’m just helping you relax and you can touch me as much as you want. If I feel you starting to shut down I’m going to stop, even if you haven’t safeworded. Super soft scene, okay?”
He nodded again, already slipping into that hazier state just from the familiar, steady calm of her voice and her smell surrounding him even though she wasn’t open for him to feel right now. Sometimes when she’d been in public it could take her a little time to relax back into the now familiar state of being open at home.
She just gave him an indulgent little smile. “Is that okay?”
Oh, yeah. He had to say it. “Yes, ma’am.”
“There’s my Sarge.” She leaned up to kiss his forehead. He’d never understand how she could be so warm and soft and carry such a firm presence at the same time, but he loved it. She pulled back and he watched her undress, smooth skin and all her soft curves revealing themselves for him just because she knew he needed to touch all of her. Then she slid her palm up his chest, guiding him back down and he felt that same feeling. It felt like she was holding his face and kissing his forehead, but it bloomed at the center of his chest and he melted back on the bed.
She sat beside him, palm pressing firm against his sternum and he felt exposed under her gaze, naked in a way that had nothing to do with clothes. In the same moment he felt about to explode, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his skin. Soft caresses and gentle kisses soothed over every mark on his skin, a feeling sitting at his core like being held. Every bruise, welt and half-knitted wound got its little moment of care. She turned him over and started again until around the time her fingers ghosted over his cracked ribs and her lips and tongue were working along the scars where metal met flesh. Home, love, safe… Then, the first sob shook his chest.
“There you go,” she cooed against his skin. “Let it out. I’ve got you.”
He cried. It was like the feelings she pushed toward him filled him until it pushed everything else out in the form of tears. She settled herself fully on top of him and it was perfect. Everything he wanted with her hips nested perfectly over his ass and her head resting between his shoulder blades while she petted and stroked his shoulders and sides and pressed the occasional kiss to his spine. As he came down from the emotional release, he’d never felt so happy that he had a curvy girl as he did in that moment with her full weight pressing him into the bed. Better than any weighted blanket. How could it feel so perfect and he still wanted more?
“What do you need, baby?”
“More…” His hips rocked a little, back into her and down into the mattress, rubbing his half hard dick into the bed, and he groaned.
He could feel her smile against his spine as she pressed her pelvis against his ass. “Feeling a little better, Sarge?”
He nodded. “Need you…”
“But you have me…” A firm weight between his shoulder blades as she pushed herself up with one palm. He felt her emotion pressing down on him, protective and gently possessive, like she was still laying on him, covering him, and it felt so good.
“Want you inside me, too.”
“Oh, I bet you do,” she purred and a thrill raced up his spine. Her pelvis pressed more firmly against his ass. “Need me to fill you up?”
Would she? She said nothing they hadn’t practiced, but he’d taken plugs for her and the smaller dildo she’d bought after they talked. His ass embarrassingly in the air for her and just her hands working the toys in him and pressing them to his prostate until it felt like he was going to fly apart before she had mercy on him and stroked his cock until he came. He knew he was ridiculous for wanting this, how it made him rock hard imagining her taking him apart like that. What kind of man in their right mind wants their girl to fuck them stupid? “Please, ma’am.”
Her weight left his body and his mind and he whined for the loss. He turned his head and she was reaching into the side table drawer, looking thoughtful.
“Purple one. Please ma’am.”
She turned to look at him. “Are you sure? You don’t just want to do a plug?”
He shook his head. “Please, alpha.”
She gave him that indulgent smile again. “Need me to fuck the thoughts out of your head, my nesty omega?
A little thrill ran through him and he groaned into the pillow, excited and embarrassed all at once. Her hand slid across his shoulders and her breath tickled his ear. “No expectations.”
He turned his head to look up at her. “No, no I want it.” He buried his face in the pillow again. “It’s just… embarrassing…”
“Ahhh… Is it embarrassing when Steve does it?”
“I mean sometimes, but that’s because he decides to be an ass about it.”
She giggled. “An ass about taking your ass?”
He caught his own pun then and snorted. “Yeah.”
“Is it because I’m a girl?”
He rolled onto his side so he could see her better. She was giving him that patient look, like she was waiting for him to figure it out. “Maybe, partly.” His hand was on her thigh where she knelt over him. She wasn’t mad at him, he told himself. Even if it was a little bit of sexism creeping in, he knew she would forgive him for having ‘40s brain’ as long as he was aware and working through it. “I’m working on that.” She just wanted to make sure he was saying yes for the right reasons. “And, I’m still working on just enjoying things I like. But, I think maybe part of me likes that, too.”
She chuckled in understanding and then leaned down to kiss his forehead. “It’s okay. I just need to know you’re all in.”
He nodded. “No expectations. I know you’ll stop if I change my mind.”
She hummed in pleasure at his answer. “That’s my Sarge.” The feeling she pushed over him felt like warm fur sliding all the way down his body, surrounding him and wrapping snug and his head fell back with a sigh.
“Do you wanna watch?” she murmured against his ear and his eyes snapped open.
Yes. Yes he did. The anticipation of watching her get ready for him was one of the best things about this, just as good as watching Steve stroke himself before he did that slow push inside. He must have looked as eager as he felt because she didn’t ask him to say it, just smirked as she took the lube and the double-headed dildo in hand. She hadn’t worn the strapless while they played yet, just using the curved end that would sit inside her as a handle.
She put a little lube in her hand, less than he would have, but he could smell that she was already wet, so maybe she didn’t need much to get her end of the toy ready. She rarely needed extra help taking him, after all, and he was thicker than the bulb end of the strapless. He watched her work her palm over and around the bulb before shifting her knees to give herself more room and dragging her wet fingers through her folds, playing with herself a little as she spread the slick around her pussy.
He bit his lip, fighting down the growl he felt in his chest as she pushed the bulb inside with a little hum of pleasure, nestling the dildo in her pussy and adjusting until it felt comfortable. It looked hot, knowing she was going to fuck him and knowing how that dildo felt inside, but the weird lavender color was just a little absurd. There was part of him that wanted to check if it tasted like the taffies he used to bring back for his sisters from Coney that the color reminded him of.
She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling his attention back to her. “What are you thinking about?”
He chuckled. “It looks like candy.”
She smirked. “You want a taste, handsome?”
He looked back up at her. “What?”
She quirked a brow at him. “I asked if you wanna suck my dick, Sarge.”
He gave her a confused look. “But it’s– It wouldn’t do anything…”
“It still moves a little.” Then her smile went predatory and dear god he loved that look. “And I’ve always loved how hot you look sucking Steve off at this angle.”
He grinned under her praise, it always felt like the sun hitting his skin. “Not this time? But yes.”
She just nodded, running her fingers through his hair again, safe. “Ok. Do you wanna watch me fuck you, or just feel it?”
“I wanna be able to touch you, ma’am.” She gave him a little nod and guided him to lay back and lift his hips so she could slide a pillow under him. Then she considered a moment before sliding in a second. The size difference between them and her joints making some positions uncomfortable meant they had to improvise sometimes, but they always made it work.
“Okay.” She ran a hand down and back up his torso again, exuding that calm, controlling aura and he melted back onto the bed with a groan. Better than any restraint she could ever use, better than any shibari tie. Firm and heavy and soft and warm all at once. God, it felt so fucking good. Then he watched her grab the lube again and slick her fingers. She leaned in to press loose, wet kisses along his inner thighs as her fingers found his hole, teasing and pressing at the rim while that soft, heavy feeling held him down and he already felt impatient.
“Please, ma’am…”
“Shh…” She slowly pressed one finger in, working it slowly. “I know I can’t really damage you, but I don’t want it to hurt either, love.” Her other hand started to tease and play with his balls while she worked another finger in and moved them right to that place inside him she was already learning. She worked them until they moved easily and he was panting.
She pushed a third finger, probably more than she needed for him to take the strap-on and he gave a little grunt. “Gonna break my fingers in there.” She nuzzled his thigh with a playful little smirk. “You gotta relax if you want this candy dick, Sarge…”
He laughed and it was exactly what he needed.
“There’s my sweet guy,” she cooed as she pulled her fingers away. She added more lube to her hand and he watched her spread it over the shaft. Then she met his eyes and guided the tip inside. She pressed with one long, slow stroke and the love came in with that feeling like she was holding him down pushed at something in his gut he didn’t know was clenched.
His back arched with a low moan. Her dry hand smoothed up his stomach and chest while she waited for him to relax.
“You’re doing so well, Sarge.” She started to move and every few thrusts she’d change the angle until she hit just right and his vision went fuzzy around the edges.
“Oh, fuuuck…” He watched her body move above him, honing in, rolling her hips to drag the tip against that perfect spot. Her small, soft hands held his hips and stroked his thighs and no matter the strength difference he wouldn’t have moved or fought free for the world. “Please, ma’am… More…”
She adjusted her knees a little, went a little harder, a little faster and the tingle and pressure built at the base of his spine, coiling in his gut until he was writhing under her, panting, pleading.
“Don’t hold back on me, Sarge. I want you to come for me. You deserve to feel so good. My sweet guy.” Her still slicked hand wrapped around his dick and his balls pulled up so tight and he thought he’d explode, head thrown back on the pillow with a cry of her name. Warmth, soft steel, holding him, heavy, keeping him steady. She started to stroke him and his eyes fell shut. “Look at me, James.”
He couldn’t not. Not when she called for him like that, not when she said his name like he was hers. He opened his eyes and met hers. Her body moving, the jiggles of her soft belly and how her tits bounced while she fucked him, the rough pants of her breath and the gentle clinks of the dogtags hanging from her neck. Then she pulled out and he nearly sobbed.
Then she yanked the pillows out from under him, hooked her hands under his knees and lifted his legs, holding his thighs to bend him nearly double. “Look, James. Look at me taking what’s mine.” Then she pushed back inside. He craned his neck to look further down and the wave of pure, greedy pleasure that ripped through him when he saw that ridiculous dildo plunging into his body had him on the edge. “Hold it,” she ordered and without a thought his hand grabbed one of his own knees, holding himself wide and half doubled over on himself at the edge of oblivion.
She reached out and grabbed the back of his neck, her hold firm and the weight of her desire and claim was unbearable. “Look, James, look how well you take me.” She spat in her hand and wrapped it around his cock again. “So fucking pretty taking me like this. Letting me fuck you like I own you.”
He gasped as she added a twist to her strokes, brought one knee high to support the leg he wasn’t holding and she hit a spot so perfect the edges of his vision went white. “You do! Yours, ma’am, all yours!”
“That’s right. Mine. My sweet guy, my Sarge, my James.” That calm, safe place wrapped around him in contrast to that growl in her voice, holding him tight in every way. His dick, his body, his heart, his goddamned soul. Precious and safe. He understood now what she meant when she said he made her feel like a treasure. “Show me. Show me you’re mine. Come for me.”
He did that instant. But he didn’t come. He flew apart. Exploded. Dissolved back to star stuff and light.
When he floated back to his body, she had pulled out. She was laying beside him, stroking his hair and wiping away the mess from his stomach with the tee shirt she’d been wearing before tossing it toward the laundry.
“There you are.” She leaned in and kissed his forehead and he thought he’d float away again. “Hey, Sarge.”
He knew the smile he gave her was tired and fucking stupid. He didn’t care. “Hey, beautiful.”
Her other hand came to rest on his chest. “You okay?”
He giggled, clasping his hand over hers. “I’ll let you know when my soul comes back.”
She chuckled. “It can stay gone as long as it likes. I’ve got you.”
He reached up and pulled her into a kiss, slow and sweet and as perfect to him as she was. “Yeah, you do.”