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sarahowritesostucky · 4 months

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📖"Blood Moon Rising" pt 5

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: shrinkyclinks, prison au, werewolf au, omega Steve, Alpha Bucky, dub-con, non-con, werewolf sex, knotting, oral (m!rec), hand jobs, held hostage, age gap (40/26), forced mating, violence, bonding, Dom/sub elements

Summary: Steve gets a lot more than he bargained for when a prison riot breaks out and he becomes the captive of an Alpha werewolf.

Author's Note: It got waaay too long for Tumblr, y'all. So this is not the last part

Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter! Fic Masterlist

Part 5 - "Blood Moon Horizon"

Well, the jig was finally up.

Steve started showing signs of preheat on a Monday, and by Tuesday, everybody in the village knew. Wolves, Peter explained, could sense these things much, much better than humans could. (Apparently Bucky hadn’t been lying when he’d claimed that he could tell when Steve was ovulating.)

Steve was precisely one day away from his heat—something which was somehow both common and undisputed knowledge amongst the wolves.

Even Steve himself couldn’t have said for sure what day he would hit heat based on his preheat symptoms, but everybody all of a sudden started buzzing around, talking about how tomorrow would be the big day and beginning their preparations for the mating run and celebrations.

Chatter also increased drastically, once word got around that there was going to be a “blood moon” the next night—something which the wolves held sacred. While rare, a total lunar eclipse meant absolutely nothing to Steve, but by now he’d learned that anything involving the moon’s cycle held great cultural and spiritual significance to the wolves. Apparently they viewed the blood moon as an omen of sorts, a rare occurrence symbolizing great change and rebirth; a time to resolve feuds, dump baggage, and cleanse the self. Steve didn’t think that boded well at all for him, but Peter seemed to find it very exciting.

“Holy shit, dude. Mated on the friggin’ blood moon?! That’s baddass!”

Bucky never came back to the cabin that night. And, sure as shit, the wolves were right: That next morning, Steve woke up in heat.

“How’d they know?” he whined at Peter, trying to walk around the camp without noticing every single stare that was directed their way. The pack was deep in preparations for his and Bucky’s mating run that night. There was a big heap of wood being assembled in the nearby clearing for that night’s bonfire—apparently a major part of the tradition—and people were bustling about, setting up logs around the area for seating, decorating with foraged plants, stringing flowers and cooking food and brewing a massive amount of some kind of special werewolf cider. Steve eyed the humongous cauldron dubiously as he and Peter crossed the center of the camp. “Is it just a smell thing?”

“Yeah. And pheromones.”

“But that’s the same thing though, isn’t it?”

Peter tried to find a way to explain how it wasn’t the same thing, how pheromones came across to wolves as less of a scent and more of a sixth sense—something that sat right on the periphery of smell and sight and feel. He told Steve that it was like an ‘aura’. “I dunno how else to explain it, man. But it’s very obvious. You might as well have been wearing an ‘I’m about to go into heat’ teeshirt yesterday.”

Well, now he was in heat, and without the modern convenience of any sort of suppressant products, Steve was fully aware of the itch beneath his skin, the wetness between his legs, and the ever-growing ache that was building, deep and powerful, in his belly. He very sincerely missed his shitty shoebox of an apartment back in New York, where he had a very nice collection of both heat-soothing products and knotting dildoes that he could be using right about now. Instead he was stuck here in Hillbilly-town, USA; uncomfortable, horny as fuck, and suffering through every annoying symptom without recourse.

Of course he had no way of masking any of this from the wolves. Steve had grown up not having to wonder if the 90% beta human population could smell him when he was in heat, and aside from it just being flat out embarrassing that everybody knew, this was also very bad news on a practical level, as now Steve stood virtually no chance of slipping away unnoticed, not when he was lit up like a damn Christmas tree of pheromones. He was so impotently angry at himself over it. He’d had months to try and get away, and now the jig was up. Steve was in heat, he was lit up like a pheromonal beacon to every single person in the pack, and he now had to face the disappointing truth:

He’d waited too long.

He spent the morning skulking around the edges of camp with Peter by his side, impulsively considering running off into the forest multiple times, but discarding the thought each time it came up.

That wouldn’t work. He’d already been shown that it wouldn’t work, each time the wolves dragged him back to Bucky’s doorstep. And that was before he’d been in heat. Steve did his best to seem taciturn and unapproachable, not wanting to deal with the stares and attention of the people in the village. It was awkward as fuck. And he especially didn’t want to be around Bucky.

But that wasn’t something he had to worry about, because Bucky had pretty much been gone ever since Steve first realized he was in preheat, making himself scarce during the day and returning home to the cabin only once Steve was already asleep. He’d been leaving early each morning, too, before Steve woke. In fact, Steve wasn’t even sure if the Alpha had come back to sleep in the cabin at all last night.

He wasn’t gone though: Steve caught sight of him once or twice on the day of the mating run. The village alphas were holding more of their super-secret, alphas-only meetings, and Steve realized pretty quick that there was no way in hell he could eavesdrop anymore, as they knew right away when he was lurking nearby.

“Just go help put stuff together for the celebration,” Dum Dum scolded as he carried Steve away by the scruff and dumped him in the dirt outside the village’s omega yurt. “You’re not supposed to be around each other right now.”

“I need to talk to him!”

“You can talk to him plenty tonight,” Dum Dum said meaningfully. “Look kid, it’s tradition, alright? Like the groom and bride not seeing each other. Just go in there and help with the preparations.”

Steve grunted indignantly as he stood up from the ground, brushing the dust off his clothes. “I’m not a kid, I’m twenty-six. And I’m not his bride. He kidnapped me. Why does everybody just gloss over that part like it doesn’t matter?!”

“Because it doesn’t.” Dum Dum shook his head. “You’re a pill, kid. I don’t know why he wants you, but he does.” Steve glared at him, and Dum Dum narrowed his eyes. “Look, he’s a good man, just trying to do right by his people. He already has to deal with more shit than you know, keeping order in this pack. Don’t go makin’ it harder for him.”

Steve frowned. He knew by now that leadership was fought for amongst the wolves, sometimes brutally. It was hard won and hard kept. It depended on a complex combination of honor, biologically-coded dominance, and sheer brutality, which was why humans so often classified their packs as gangs. But it wasn’t the same. Steve could see that now.

Bucky was a good leader, and though he kept most things very close to the chest, he’d all but told Steve that there were continual challenges to his authority as Alpha. And other people in the pack had made it clear that Bucky being their Alpha was the best thing to happen to the pack in a long time.

From the moment he’d stopped him from stabbing Batroc with a pencil back at the prison, Dum Dum had always looked at Steve like he was a problem, and that’s how he looked at him now, when Steve scoffed at his admonition not to make trouble for Bucky.

Sure, Steve didn’t want to be the reason a bunch of innocent people had their already-hard existence thrown into chaos, but he still didn’t deserve to be trapped here. His jaw worked in frustration as Dum Dum watched him, clearly waiting for an answer. “I’m just trying to get back to my life,” Steve huffed. “I mean what the heck else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to be in there with your own kind, getting ready for the celebration.” Dum Dum pointed at the yurt, and Steve looked over his shoulder with a scowl.

“They’re not my kind. I’m omega, not a werewolf. And I’m not in this pack.”

“For now.”

“And I don’t want to celebrate.” Steve crossed his arms. “I’m not helping with arranging fucking flowers or whatever the hell they’re doing in there.”

“Then maybe talk to some of ‘em,” Dum Dum suggested, gesturing angrily at the yurt’s door. “Maybe you’ll make a friend. Or better yet, maybe they’ll knock some sense into you.” With that, he turned and left.

And so, Steve found himself inside the camp’s omega yurt: a place about which he’d known, but had steadfastly avoided going inside of until now. It was a big, round structure that served as a communal social space for the pack's adult omegas.

Inside, Steve was surprised to find dozens of cozy bean bag chairs and blankets for nesting. Unlike many of the pack cabins, the yurt had a polished wood floor and was fully modernized inside; with the center of the structure housing the nicest, biggest kitchen Steve had yet seen in the entire village, and the interior smelling richly of baked bread and omega bodies. Steve knew that the pack alphas and betas weren’t really supposed to come nosing around there, as it was considered a private, omega-only space. That was comforting, and on a day when not much else could make him feel safe, that kinda did. At least temporarily.

“Steve!”

“Oh is that him?”

“Yo!”

“Wow, come grab a bag, man. Welcome!”

Over by the beanbag circle, a russet-colored wolf whom Steve recognized as Wanda lifted its head, whining as if in her own form of greeting before flopping back down to lie on the floor and enjoy the ambient heat from the nearby wood stove, just like any other lazy dog might do. Steve smiled despite himself.

He’d been avoiding this place, as he knew that all the other omegas would sit around like Wanda did and try to convince him to be happy with a life in the pack. But now that his fate was rapidly closing in on him, Steve knew he needed to learn as much as he could about what was going to happen that night. He went over to where Darcy was urging him to take up one of the beanbags, and plopped down as she began introducing him to the handful of pack omegas whom he’d seen around camp but never really met.

“—and of course you know Hairy, over there,” she said at the end, kicking her foot in the air in Wanda’s direction.

Beside the woodstove, the wolf briefly wagged its tail and chuffed.

“So then it is a wedding,” Steve concluded a while later, after they’d been talking about the upcoming mating run. He peeked around at the other wolves nearby. Wanda hadn’t moved an inch and looked like she was dozing, Nakia was in another of the beanbags, Darcy in another, and Thor’s mate Jane in the one next to that. Peter’s aunt May was over in the kitchen area, working on making a large sheet cake which Peter had already warned Steve would be very disappointing; and Scott—the only other male omega in the pack besides Peter—was loitering on the kitchen’s periphery, pretending to help with the baking while most of his energy went into trying to sneak tastes of the cake batter.

“I mean, the bonfire’s like the reception,” Steve ventured. “The run is kinda like the, um … the ceremony? I guess? And the bite is like the vow.” He made a face as he said it and rubbed his neck self-consciously, still terrified of the thought of Bucky chomping down on him like that. “And then we’ll be married,” he said quietly, thinking, fuck.

“Mated,” Nakia corrected from over on her beanbag, where she had the coffee table pulled up close as she worked on mixing up a bunch of things in bowls with a mortar and pestle. “Same idea. A bit more permanent, though.”

“And way more fun,” Darcy said with a dirty wink.

She and Jane shared a titter over that, which Steve could only take to mean that they were talking about the sex-part that came at the end. He’d been told all about that, too (though honestly, he’d kind of already figured that there would be a sex-part, once he heard that they’d be doing this whole thing naked). “Yeah,” he said weakly. “ ‘Fun’. Right.”

“Jane got pupped up on the night of her mating run,” Darcy divulged, making Steve’s eyes widen at the thought of the same happening to him. “Maybe you will, too, Steve!”

“Here’s hoping not.” His eyes slid over to Jane, who was using her very pregnant belly as a worktop to thread flowers on a string. “I mean, um, no offense to you or anything.”

“None taken.” Jane looked peevishly over at Darcy. “We don’t know if it was that exact night.”

Jane, Steve had learned, was an unassuming and intelligent woman. She was very pretty and she seemed kind and pleasant to be around. But that wasn’t what intrigued Steve about her. Happily mated to Thor and heavily pregnant with their first baby, she was also one of only two pack members who’d been infected with lycanthropy rather than born with it. She’d lived with the pack for less than a year, was due to give birth soon, and—unlike Wanda—was choosing to remain in her human form for the event. Steve desperately wished he could talk to her alone and ask her all sorts of questions: why she was there, why she’d stayed and let them infect her and—

“Blegh! not me,” Darcy was proclaiming, telling Jane that she was a fool for choosing to deliver the baby in her human form rather than as a wolf. “You’re nuts. All that pain?” She shook her head. ��Mark my words, you’re gonna regret it. And I’ll have to be the one there holding your hand while you’re poppin’ those pups out, letting you squeeze my bones until they’re popping out, too.”

Jane smiled privately and put a hand on her stomach. “I want to hold them when they come. I want them to hear my voice, feel my skin.”

“Nuts,” Darcy reiterated.

“Them?” Steve asked. “You’re having more than one?”

Jane smiled and nodded, while Darcy told him about how most omegas had “litters” rather than single babies; two or three pups at a time was considered normal, expected even.

Steve blanched. “But isn’t that … I mean, aren’t pregnancies like that considered high risk?” He looked over at Jane, slightly concerned. “Shouldn’t you guys have access to a hospital and doctors?”

“We’ve got Bruce,” Darcy said.

“And it’s different with wolf pups,” Jane added. “The babies develop faster but come out smaller, and sturdier.”

Morbidly, it occurred to Steve to wonder if the babies came out in human form or wolf form. “So … you’re seriously not worried?”

Jane rubbed her belly serenely. “No. I’m excited.” Steve’s disquiet must’ve still been written on his face, however, because she looked him in the eye and tried to assure him, “You have to understand: birthing is much better tolerated amongst wolves. Much more natural. Complications are very rare.”

“Yeah, even in newbies like her,” Darcy teased, kicking over at the side of Jane’s beanbag. “Werewolf groupies.” Jane scoffed and tried to kick back at Darcy’s beanbag, but she failed and gave up due to how encumbered she was by her belly.

Steve hadn’t missed how close the two women seemed to be. He’d been assuming they were just really good friends all this time, and that assumption persisted right up until the point when Jane asked Darcy when she was “going to stop being such a jerk to Thor and accept his affections already.” Steve squinted, confused for a split second because he thought Thor was the father of Jane’s baby …

“Thor’s been courting Darcy for half a year now,” Jane revealed. “But she’s been playing hard to get.”

Steve was about to ask if there were two guys named Thor in the pack, until he abruptly remembered that the wolves practiced a form of polygamy, and he was encountering an instance of that right now. “I—oh.” He bit back the words he’d been about to say, looking over at Darcy instead, affronted. “You never mentioned you were with somebody.”

“Well I’m not! … Not technically. It’s only been a little while.” She shrugged and tried to play it off nonchalantly, but Steve could still see the hints of a blush on her face. “And anyway, I mean come on, it’s Thor.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s such a flirt. Big old oaf who thinks he’s God’s gift to women, leaves a couple 'a dead rabbits on your doorstep and thinks he's won your heart."

Steve made a face at the thought of animal carcasses as courting gifts. "What, roses were too old fashioned?" he muttered, eliciting a giggle from Jane and a huff from Darcy.

"I'm just saying: a peacock like Thor can stand to wait. He's probably never had to wait and wonder for longer than a day in his whole mighty life, until now.”

“A peacock whom you know you’re going to say yes to, eventually,” Jane needled, turning back to Steve with a sly look. “She thinks she’s playing hard to get. Thinks Thor’s too full of himself or something.”

“That wolf’s ego is far too big for his knot,” Darcy insisted. “I’m just bringing him down a peg. It’s character development. You should be thanking me.”

“For making my mate less insufferable? Or because I have you to look forward to as a sister wife?”

“Exactly.”

“Mark my words,” Aunt May called from over in the kitchen, waving her rubber spatula in the air. “We’ll be having another run within the next few months for you two.”

Jane and Nakia agreed, while Darcy scoffed and insisted that she intended to string Thor along for far longer than that.

Meanwhile Steve was still sitting there, reeling at the stark reminder of how differently these people lived, with their tribal mindset and their polygamy and their weirdly primal traditions. He had to face the reality that he’d long been avoiding: That unless a miracle occurred and he suddenly somehow devised a workable escape plan before that very night, he’d soon be a mated omega, exposed to or infected with lycanthropy, and possibly even pregnant.

The other women in the group talked excitedly about the upcoming night of celebrations, gabbing to Steve of what the traditions were and what he could expect. Everyone would gather for a big, blow-out party around the bonfire, then Steve would be sent off into the woods—naked, in heat, and with a headstart that was purely symbolic in nature. Then, after a short while, Bucky would shift and come after him, a predator tracking his prey in the night.

Steve shuddered to think how pathetically easy it was going to be for Bucky. He’d sniff Steve out and chase him down, pounce on him, bite him, fuck him and knot him and mate him right out in the middle of the forest.

“Doesn’t exactly seem fair,” Steve grumbled, “or comfortable.” It was October now, and though they’d travelled much farther south than where they’d started in New York, Steve still didn’t relish the thought of running butt-ass naked through the woods for any extended period of time. “I’ll freeze out there,” he complained. “And why do I have to be naked?”

“Mates usually run in fur,” Darcy said. “The omega starts in skin and shifts once they’re a ways out of sight—to make the chase harder.”

“Yeah, not exactly an option for me.” Like anything he could do would possibly make this a fair chase. He was doomed.

“Don’t worry,” Jane tried to console him, “I was human when I ran, too. Nudity is so normalized here, nobody bats an eye at you, I promise. And there are plenty of dens out in the forest where he can take you. That’s what Thor did for me. He even made it nice beforehand with all sorts of soft furs and stuff.” She smiled and looked down bashfully. “It was actually really sweet.”

“Dens?”

“Oh yeah. Mostly built into like, rocky outcroppings and stuff. There’s tons of places like that out there.”

Steve pursed his lips. “Yeah, I know.” He’d become well-acquainted with the forest’s inhospitable terrain—mostly during his unsuccessful nighttime escape attempts.

“Those dens are mostly left over, right May? Like when they’d do whole pack runs in the old days?”

In the kitchen, May nodded after chasing Scott off from the icing bowl again. “Yep.”

“The whole pack?”

“Yeah,” Darcy supplied. “Like, not just two people. They’d all do it at once as a group. Any omega who wasn’t mated could run, and then whatever alpha caught you first was who bonded you.”

“What?!”

“This was all a long time ago,” May called over from the kitchen. “Ancient practice.”

“Not that ancient,” Darcy said. “My grandparents did it. ‘Course, back then there were a lot more omegas, and apparently most people went into season at the same time—I know, wild right? That’s why they’d just do it twice a year or whatever, when everybody was in heat. It was like this massive, huge event. Like, everybody looked forward to it and gossiped about it and made bets on it. All the Alphas would try to make secret deals with each other, and the omegas would try to figure out who’d be chasing them, how to get someone onto your scent without being too obvious, stuff like that—Like prom, for werewolves!” She laughed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Steve said.

“Naw. My grandma told me about it. It was a whole thing back in those days. The alphas who had their sights set on someone would come up with all of these grand courting gestures, go out in the forest ahead of time and make dens to try and herd their favorite omega towards.” She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “But then things like consent came into fashion, so.”

“Don’t scare the boy,” May scolded. “He’s still new to all thi—Scott! Get your finger out of that bowl before I take it off!”

“Jesus.” Steve supposed he should at least be grateful that it was only Bucky he had to worry about, rather than an entire pack of horny werewolves. He felt silly about the whole idea of the mating run. As if someone like him stood any real chance at evading Bucky. What a joke. “He’ll probably catch me in the first two minutes,” Steve mourned.

“Naw, you get a thirty-minute head start, remember?” Darcy smirked. “It’ll take him at least three minutes to catch up with you.”

Steve shot her a withering glare. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Don’t worry,” Nakia said. She was still diligently grinding with the mortar and pestle, and she gestured with it. “This will help disguise your scent. It will make for a better chase.” She smiled like that was something Steve should be excited about, and he did try to at least offer her a friendly nod back, aware that there were undoubtedly some massive cultural differences in play.

Nakia wasn’t just a werewolf, she was also African—not African-American, mind you, but straight-up African—along with Okoye and M’Baku, and that freaking terrifying guy who’d done the executions at the prison: Killmonger. They all hailed from some tiny, impoverished country that Steve could vaguely remember having learned about in highschool, but he still hadn’t been able to figure out why the heck they were living with Bucky’s pack in the middle of the Appalachian mountains. When he’d asked Bucky and Okoye before, all they would say was that it was some sort of “outreach program.”

(Not much of an outreach program when the whole pack was running fugitive from the law, though, now was it?)

Steve eyed up the substance that Nakia was grinding in the mortar. “What is it?” he asked dubiously. It smelled earthy and dank, but good; kind of like how fallen leaves smelled in the fall, once they accumulated on the ground and began to rot. If it smelled that strongly to him, what must it smell like to a wolf nose? Steve made a face as he considered it. “Is that … that’s stuff’s not going on me, is it?”

Nakia nodded sagely. “Special Wakandan recipe. Your wolf won’t catch you so easy with this. He will have to hunt.”

“... Great,” Steve said. “Thanks.” Really, he wasn’t so sure if he should bother with using the mystery paste. Would any attempt to evade Bucky at this point make a difference? Or would it just prolong the chase before the inevitable capture?

Steve wasn’t looking forward to finding out.

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monster-cock69 · 8 months

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Escaped prisoner bucky and “yeah you know what I guess I will finally visit that cabin in the woods uncle Ben left me,,,,,,all alone” Peter

#winterspider #peter parker #bucky barnes #prompt #avengers #marvel #spiderman #winter soldier #prisoner bucky #possibly #murderer bucky #ooooo #SERIAL KILLER BUCKY #dumb twink Peter #someone please write this

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bisamwilson · 11 months

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hey honey! 💖 sambucky and 25. things you said in front of other people!

thanks for the ask, sweetheart <3 does something over 1k words count as a snippet oops (from this list)

"I just wasn't really feelin' it, y'know?" Sam laments to the circle of older ladies around him, sighing while they all nod along knowingly.

It's the first Thursday of the month, which means the local older women's book club is meeting in a small room off the church building where Sam's daddy had preached for twenty years, and, just like every first Thursday of the month that Sam's been in Delacroix since he was fourteen years old, Sam came by to help them set up tables and chairs for all the potluck food they bring with them.

And just like every first Thursday of the last six months since Sam and Bucky had rented a little house down here for when the world isn't on fire--last month excluded, given New York City, at least, was actually on fire--the first fifteen minutes of the local older women's book club is spent lightly interrogating Sam about his love life.

"How many of these dating app first dates have you been on, Sam?" Ms. Sheryl asks from beside him, her arms crossed over her chest.

Sam looks up at the ceiling and counts them in his head, each disappointing match after disappointing match. "Twelve in the last two months, Ms. Sheryl. Thirteen if you count the woman from NOLA I met at a jazz bar and had to leave after five minutes because an emergency mission came up. She unmatched me after that."

Ms. Sheryl nods, her lips pursed, and Sam thinks he might've accidentally just proved a point he didn't know she was making yet. "And how many of those got second dates?"

Sam's saved from having to answer that disheartening, kind-of-a-rhetorical question from the late arrival of Ms. Josephine, newcomer to both the book club and to Delacroix.

She'd moved here about a month and a half ago, about half a year after her husband had passed away, looking for a new start. Every interaction Sam's had with her thus far has been honestly lovely, and he already knows she's got a soft spot for Bucky given how much of her house he'd come over to help fix since she'd moved in. Sam's had his fair share of her "thank you" cooking, and knows full well she's as wonderful a cook as she is a lady.

"Evenin', ladies," she says, holding some kind of dish in her hand that smells downright heavenly. "And Sam," she adds with a wink, smiling when Sam takes the dish from her and sets it over on the table with the rest of the food. "What'd I miss?"

"Sam was just lamenting to us about his dating woes," Ms. Jackie replies, with a tone full of sympathy but a playful twinkle in her eye, taking Sam's hand and patting it soothingly when he comes to stand next to her, leaving his previous seat open for Ms. Josephine.

Sam laughs and squeezes Ms. Jackie's hand. "You've got a son about my age, right, Ms. Josephine? Is he single?"

All the other ladies in the room chuckle along at Sam's joke, but Ms. Josephine just looks confused. "Did something happen with you and Bucky?" she asks, concerned. "He didn't mention it when he came by to fix one of my hinges this morning."

Sam's eyebrows furrow this time around. "Not that I know of? Not unless something has happened in the last thirty minutes since I checked my phone, anyway, but he's not generally the type to call in any case."

Ms. Josephine's face morphs from confusion to contemplation, and she crosses her legs at her ankles and crosses her hands over her lap. "So are y'all in one of those relationships where you can date other people then? I saw some article about that a few weeks ago. Must have some real good communication between the two of you to make both that and all your superheroing work."

She sounds almost impressed, but Sam doesn't really have the mental capacity to acknowledge that right now, not when his brain got stuck on the word "relationships" applied to Bucky and himself.

He looks around the rest of the group to see if any of them are gonna correct her while he's still stuck in his state of shock, but finds all of them just looking vaguely amused.

He shakes his head minutely. "Ms. Josephine, Bucky and I aren't dating."

Her eyes go more than a little wide. "Wait, so you did call it off?"

Sam shakes his head again, a little more vigorously. "No, ma'am. We weren't ever dating in the first place. Did Bucky tell you we were?"

Ms. Josephine shakes her head right back. "Never explicitly, Sam, but it ain't exactly hard to tell when somebody's head over heels. He talks about you like you went and hung the moon for him. Just yesterday he came by and asked if I'd seen one of the recent news segments about you, gushing about how amazin' you look flyin' up there. 'He's so fast, and nimble, Ms. Josephine,' he said to me, all moony eyed. 'It's like nothing you've ever seen before. Sometimes I swear he looks like an angel when he's got his wings spread out.'

"And that's not even countin' the things he says about you when you've been home for a bit. He's always talkin' about whatever fishin' you've done recently, or charity work you've been doin' around here or in NOLA, or how excited you were to buy new cat toys the week before. Every time I ask him if he's got any special requests for thank you meals, he always asks for something with a spice level I'm still not sure he can handle, tellin' me all about how it's been one of your favorites since you were a kid. Bucky's spent at least four days a week at my house pretty much since I've moved in, Sam, and I'm pretty sure I know more about you than I do about him, given how much he talks about you."

Sam's world is starting to tilt on an axis, but he's saved from having to speak up by Ms. Jackie throwing in her two cents. "You know he hates the smell of the flowers he buys from me for y'all's table every week," she says, tone full of faux nonchalance. "Says they're a little too fragrant for his nose because of the serum, but he buys 'em anyway because you always smile when you see he's brought home fresh ones."

Ms. Sheryl's lips quirk up. "You know he replaced damn near every faucet in my house as payment for me helping him with some of the most complicated bits of that sweater he knit you for Christmas. Said it had to be perfect because he knew how cold you always get any time you have to go north of here."

Ms. Maybelle comes in with the final blow, and it hits Sam like the steel chair in all the WWE shows AJ insists on watching every week. "And it ain't like you don't do the same things neither, Sam. Every time I see you it's, 'Hey, Ms. Maybelle, how you been? You wanna see this cute picture I got of Bucky and the cats earlier? They fell asleep on the porch swing he built for us.' You spent the first five minutes of the book club session two months ago debating whether or not Bucky should grow his hair out because he wanted new opinions that weren't yours, and at least half of that was you trying to explain how nice he looked before with the long hair even though it was greasy, but how you like the way the short hair feels when he has his head in your lap on movie night."

Sam doesn't really know how he can defend himself here, but he's got some argument on the tip of his tongue about how their couch was just a little too small for the both of them and their cats, so the head in the lap was the obvious solution. He doesn't think it'll do much damage control, but he thinks he should at least make the attempt.

Instead, he turns back to Ms. Josephine kind of on autopilot. "He called me an angel?" he asks, his heart a little fluttery, and Ms. Josephine just smiles.

"I'll, uh, see you all here same time next month?" he asks as a kind of permission to leave. "I think I might need to go see what my roommate is up to."

"Bring your boy with you next time, Sam," Ms. Sheryl replies, nodding him towards the door. "It's much more fun to tease you both together."

#hello it is once again time for 'mak loves nothing more than to write the older delacroix ladies who love sam and bucky'#shout out to ms maybelle for taking no prisoners #thanks for the ask a!!!! this was fun!!#sambucky #onlysambucky #only sambucky #buckysam #sam wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sam wilson #sambucky fic #otp: i’m coming with you #sam wilson #mak writes #livingincolorsagain #ask meme #writer meme #ask game #ask #marvel

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amarriageoftrueminds · 2 years

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the fact that bucky barnes, internationally wanted fugitive, was canonically- canonically -a scrapbooker

#bucky barnes #looks like a harley-riding brick shithouse of a rocker but is actually a soft pastel cottagecore hipster.#cacw #😩#bucky meta #meta #mcu #mcu meta #hydra: we are going to turn this man into a terrifying killing machine #actual disney princess bucky in his prison cell: [bonding with the rats growing teeny mushrooms from the wall moss]#hydra: ...we are going to start by throwing out his whole personality #bucky: this entire apartment is laid out tactically so I can destroy anyone who breaks in...#also bucky: ...except for that corner. that's my crafting corner.#*ed: he can fight using the contents of his crafting corner too; he'll just be super mad about it #He makes super-suit suggestions. He goes to market to buy plums. He scrapbooks. He runs a small goat farm(?) in Wakanda.

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minothtime · 4 months

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You didn't come back wrong, you came back late. Everything around you feels alien. The neighborhood you grew up in is gone, replaced by a facsimile of what once may have been and filled with new things you cannot recognize. The people you loved are all either dead or dying, some of which spent decades waiting for you while others feverishly searched for you in vain. The language you used has mutated - still the same bones, still many familiar words, but every so often you will say something that will make people around you titter and giggle, all the while using vocabulary you struggle to remember. The things you have lived are now history, and when they ask you about things that happened seventy years ago you only have to look back a month or two. The grief you've been carrying for barely a week is now over half a century old, and even if everyone assumes you are fine, you still lock yourself in your room to feel its weight more often than not. The feeling of wonder you could've maybe had is dampened by damn near everything else. You are a shell of a person because almost everything that made you you was left behind, and the few pieces that remain are too busy holding you back from falling apart to be doing anything else. You are here, you are now, but you are not yourself - and you might never be.

#mmmmmmm i have normal thoughts about this as you can see #maybe this is applicable to a few characters but the one i was thinking about mostly was #steve rogers #maybe also #bucky barnes #whatever this is just me rambling.#i just think maybe steve's psychological complexity was never explored properly #and an aspect that felt a bit glossed over was how soul-crushing this must've been.#imagine this happening to you and the first thing they do when they find you is isolate you in a fancy prison for a month minimum....#im starting to feel sick and depressed so maybe I'll stop

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granatkoroleva · 1 year

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Jailhouse Rock

Pairing ↠ Undercover!Priest!Bucky x Undercover!Inmate!Steve

Rating ↠ E

Word Count ↠ 1.9k

Tags ↠ Explicit content, Tags contain spoilers, Prison, Exhibitionism , Confessional Sex, No Overall Religious Themes, Frottage, Come Eating, Covert Operation, Established Relationship, Feels, Non Sexual Intimacy, Humor, Fluff and Crack, Nothing Hurts, Mentioned Accidental Voyeur, Happy Ending

Summary ↠ "I love you too." Bucky swallows down the knot forming in his throat, meaning they must say goodbye soon. He reaches down, smoothing out the numbers on the back of Steve's jumpsuit. "Inmate 25147."

Steve's mouth drops open, and Bucky is quick to the drawl. "You're keeping the outfit, right?"

Square + Prompt ↠

Ⓑ② + “You’re keeping the outfit, right?” | AllCapsBingo @allcapsbingo | Card # AC 1094 | Bingo Masterlist

Ⓘ⑤ + Kink : Exhibitionism | Stucky Bingo @stuckybingo | Card # R40101 | Bingo Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Flash Bingo 2023 @buckybarnesbingo | Card C - Covert

Author's Note ↠ Ao3 | Masterlist

#stucky #steve x bucky #smutconnoisseur #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stevebucky #Jailhouse Rock #stucky fanfiction #Rated E #stucky smut #allcapsbingo2023 #stucky bingo round 4 #stucky alternate universe #Undercover #prison #Priest Bucky Barnes #Inmate Steve Rogers #ao3 #bbbflash2023

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adreamwithin · 1 year

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I don't know how or why @maddiewritesstucky puts up with me. 😭😂🤣🙏🧎✝️

Read the fic here:

#stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #fanfic #steve and bucky #blasphemy #priest!Steve #convict!Bucky #prison

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navybrat817 · 1 month

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Share part of a WIP?

Part of my prisoner!Bucky WIP, nonnie. ❤️

“Look at you, princess. Can't get out of your own head long enough to make yourself come,” he taunted, slowly stroking his thick cock. “Did you ever actually get yourself off before me? Or did you not know what an orgasm was until I gave you one?”

I wasn't asked to do so, but NPT if anyone wants to share part of a WIP: @ghotifishreads @inklore @metalbuckaroo @cockslutpadalecki @ellemj @katherineswritingsblog @fandoms-writings and anyone seeing this who wants to play! ❤️

Love and thanks. ❤️

#navybrat answers #wip #bucky barnes #prisoner!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #future fic #sweet nonnie #sending love ❤️#asks are always appreciated

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abbatoirablaze · 5 months

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Locked Up, Chapter 18

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: angst, blackmail, coercion, noncon relationship, mentions of murder, smut/unprotected sex, jealousy.

“We’ll keep you safe, doll!” Bucky moaned. Your hips faltered and your rhythm fell as your orgasm washed over you. Your back arched and your chest pressed against his as your toes curled. Your thighs spasmed on either side of his as your core clenched around his cock.

“JAMES!”

“Baby!” He moaned as his cock twitched violently inside of his girlfriend’s core, “oh, FUCK!”

“Shh!” you whimpered, your hand falling over his mouth in an attempt to stifle his moans while he emptied himself inside of you. You tried to lift yourself off of his cock but failed, impaling yourself yet again on his thick length, “oh, god….Ja-James…we have to be quiet.”

He muttered something against your hand, and you giggled, your entire body feeling sensitive from the warmth spreading in your lower stomach. You removed your hand, letting it wrap back around his shoulders as you sat still on his lap, “god you’re amazing.”

“You feel like heaven…every time, baby…”

“We-we shouldn’t do this every time we have a session!” you gasped, trying to catch your breath, “James…we shouldn’t h-“

“Do you have sex with Everett every time?”

“Yes…”

“Balance between us!” he reminded you, as he leaned forward. You nodded, your lips pressing against his.

The three of you had an agreement since the riots just a few months ago. You were secretly in a relationship with the both of them, and had agreed that whatever you did with one of them you would do to the other.

“Curtis gets out in a year…” you reminded him, “What do I do then?”

Bucky frowned, his hands trailing up and down his girlfriend’s thighs, “what do you want me to say, doll?”

“H-how can I remain ‘even,’ with the two of you if he’s outside and you’ll never be on the outside?” you asked.

“I’ll get out eventually, doll. Don’t you worry. I’ll get out…and when I do…we’re disappearing…just like Hansen did with his girl…”

“But Curtis…”

“We won’t have to worry about it,” he muttered softly. His eyes met yours once more, and it felt like he was staring deep into the depths of your soul, “just promise me that you’ll love me no matter what…”

“O-of course, James…”

“Promise me…”

“I promise,” you sighed, “I’ll love you no matter what.”

He smiled, leaning up once more to catch your lips with his.

The red lights lit up the hallway.

Your heart felt like it was in your throat.

You knew what was coming.

“Did you think that I would let those animals touch you?”

A chill ran down your spine as you turned, seeing his angry face.

“S-Steve…”

“Bunny, you belong to me!”

You went to scream, but he was on you in a second.

No longer did he look like the charming mafioso, but instead his corpse was coming after you. His face was bashed in, brain matter leaking all over your white top.

“It’s your fault I’m dead, you rotten whore!”

You fought with all of your might against him, but he just wouldn’t let go.

“Baby…”

“LET ME GO!” You screamed, fighting against his arms, and how they pinned you to the floor, “LET ME GO!”

With a scream, you jolted from your desk.

The warden stood in front of you, his brow raised, “doctor…”

“I-I’m sorry,” You whimpered, pushing yourself into a seated position. You looked down, straightening out your blouse, and checking for any signs that your dream wasn’t just a dream. He narrowed his eyes at you, “I-I’m sorry.”

“Have you been falling asleep in your office a lot?” he questioned, “I only ask, because this is the second appointment that you’ve missed this week. Your door was originally locked, so I had the guards check to see if your car was still here. When they looked at the tapes, you never left your office after your appointment with inmate Everett.”

“I-I was just tired!” you lied.

“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully, “well…for good measure I had the guards go throw him in solitary until I could have a locksmith get here…”

Your eyes widened, “Curtis is in solitary?”

“Curious that you call an inmate by their first name doctor…” Tony hummed.

“Curious that you’re willing to throw an inmate into solitary with no reason or burden of proof.”

He chuckled as he sat down in the chair that the inmates usually sat in, “I think you’ll realize that these men are locked up, doctor. The burden of proof is theirs and theirs alone. I was being civilized in checking up on you and making sure that animal didn’t kill you.”

“The guards came and picked him up. They have him bolted to the floor, despite the fact that he’s not aggressive with women!” you growled, “the guards talked to me while they unlocked him. Why not talk to them if you wanted to ensure that he didn’t kill me?”

He shrugged, “well then…maybe I just wanted to punish him.”

“And why would you do that?” you taunted, “what reason do you have to punish an inmate who’s done nothing wrong?”

“Who said I was punishing him?” he asked, his eyes flickering to yours as he asked the question.

You felt like your heart stopped mid-beat, “What?”

“I said, who said I was punishing him?” Tony repeated, “who said that I wasn’t simply punishing you?”

“WH-why would you use an inmate to punish me?”

“Depends?” he asked, his gaze focusing on even the smallest of micro reactions from you, “Why would you be fucking the inmates?”

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me.”

“I-I’m not-“

“Cut the bullshit. I know you’re fucking the inmates,” he spat, “Drysdale told me that you were screwing around with Jensen before he got shanked, and then you tried to screw around with him. He turned it down when he realized that your cunt belonged to Rogers…”

“I wasn’t-“

“Oh shut up,” he said dismissively cutting you off, “Rogers is dead now, and yet you still walked around like you were little miss innocent. So I started tracking your appointments. And I noticed that you were cancelling ones scheduled after inmate Everett. I went a little further back, and during the first few appointments with him, the guards said you rejected him being bolted down…”

You paled.

He smirked, “mandatory policy changes are a real wrench in your bucket, aren’t they?”

Your stomach turned.

For the past few weeks, the guards had refused you when you said that Curtis didn’t need to be bolted to the floor.

And for a while, you had wondered why. They had allowed it even after the riots, but they just attributed it to Tony’s rule changes once he ‘got settled.’

“What are you going to do to me?” you asked.

You knew that nothing good could come of it. Legally speaking, you could lose your job. Your license to practice could be revoked.

It would be the death of your career.

Even if he couldn’t prove it at a trial when he fired you. The accusation alone would make sure that you never got hired again.

His eyes flickered over your body and you felt your stomach turning even more.

You’d seen that look before, and on more than one occasion.

You’d remembered him looking at you like that the first day he came to the prison, and had been introduced to the staff.

“I think you know what happens next!” he said softly, the most devious of smirks perching itself on his face.

“Y-you’re married…and I’m-“

“I didn’t ask for your analysis of it all, doctor!” he grunted, leaning back into the chair, “just…do to me what you do to Everet…and maybe I make a call to solitary…maybe I stop them from beating the hell out of him…maybe they beat him within an inch of his life instead of ending it!”

You felt yourself freeze, “What did you say?”

“Do you really want me to repeat that?” he smirked.

“Y-you wouldn’t kill an inmate!” you said quickly, “you would-“

“Try me!” he growled, cutting you off. You felt worry coating every once of your soul as you looked at him. The tears that built within you pricked the corners of your eyes.

“Curtis didn’t do-“

“Curtis is getting the shit beat out of him, doc…do you really want to waste your time?” he asked, pulling the cell phone from his pocket, “You know…Magda doesn’t like him much to begin with. I wonder how long he has with him, Officer Tyler, and Officer Salazar making sure he’s…docile.”

“Please!” you begged softly.

He wiggled his cell phone in the air and looked at you, “do what you were made to do then, doc…take care of me.”

You raised on shaky legs as he unlocked the phone.

“T-tell them to stop first…”

“I’ll tell them to stop when you earn it!” he grunted, playing with the phone.

You took a shaky step towards him, your heels clicking hollowly on the ground beneath you. You felt the acidity from your stomach working its way up your throat as you began to feel sick.

You were being blackmailed.

Your heels clicked again and you were in front of Tony. You felt as hollow as the sound your knees made when you fell to them, the sting of your knees against the hard floor barely feeling real.

The quiet of the normally bustling prison made you feel like you were having a moment of déjà vu.

And then the lights turned red.

Tag List: @lohnes16, @prokey16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @teambarnes72, @cjand10, @angstylittleb1tch

#locked up #prison au #jail au #marvel #marvel au #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky #curtis everett #snowpiercer au #tony stark #ironman

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