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imaginedreamwrite · 2 years

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Unburdened: Part 10

The thick corded logs that had been stacked and held together by bindings and sealant had stood out against the dense forest behind the back half of the wrap-around porch, and the soft sandy beach and clear water that lapped at the edge.

There was a sitting area outside of the cabin’s main door, set in perfect sight of the beach and the water’s edge with a circular bistro table set between two Adirondack chairs draped with blankets and two cream-coloured pillows. In addition to the bistro set and chairs, the had been an outdoor patio heater that stood a safe distance from the walls of the cabin.

There was a sign above the door of the cabin that was greeting you and Bucky before you had walked inside, the black cursive set against white stained wood was typical and ordinary yet it seemed to pull the whole aesthetic of the exterior of the cabin together.

It was an added detail that made this whole place feel homey and comforting as if this was welcoming you with every detail into a haven that transcended any anxieties you may have had.

“Welcome home,” Bucky had stepped inside before you, the muscles in his broad and strong back flexing momentarily as if he was gauging any potential threats or risks, “for a week anyway.”

“This is perfect.” You followed behind him, signing against his shoulders so he could feel your message, and had only let your hands fall when you had to stabilize yourself to kick off your shoes.

As you had set them to the side and took a look at the cabin from the front door, you were pleasantly surprised at the comfortable space that had been carried well from the front to the back. To the left of you was a mudroom that was only visible from the glass set into the wooden door that had given you a look at the hooks made for coats, and the metal rack set on a tray to catch water or mud.

To your right had been another sitting area to the right of a stone encased fireplace, the two armchairs were made of inky black leather and had paired patterned blankets, that were also a match for the blankets on the porch. There was a single stand between the armchairs that had two coasters sitting on the finished top, and on the coasters sat two long-stemmed wine glasses.

Directly across from the fireplace was a sectional that was made of the same dark leather the armchairs were made of, and in front of the sectional was an oak coffee table with wooden legs that were carved to look like heads of animals that continued from the top of the legs to the feet.

Sitting on the surface of the coffee table was a tray divided into three sections, and in each section was a single item, with the middle being a remote for the television. The other two sections had been empty, but you imagined they could be used to hold drinks if wanted.

“This is nice,” your fingers moved with your message as you studied the surroundings and the breathtaking homeyness of the cabin, “I love it.”

“Are you hungry?” Bucky had called from behind you, stealing your attention from the living room of the cabin. “I can make you something to eat.”

As you had turned on your heel to look at him, you had gotten a good chance to study the kitchen he was standing in and the details that had matched the aesthetic of the cabin. Where Bucky was standing, you could surmise that the stove was behind him, likely natural gas powering the stove, and the fridge was off to the left.

The stainless steel appliances run throughout the kitchen with even the smaller appliances matching. There was a breakfast bar built into the island, a set of four barstools tucked under the edge. A bowl of fruit had been sitting in the middle of the island, directly below the simple yet dainty chandelier lights that had hung over the kitchen.

“I’m going to look around.” You signed while already shuffling out of the kitchen, headed toward the stairs that would take you up to the top level of the cabin.

“There are two bedrooms down here and two up top,” Bucky had called after you, stalling you before you could take the second step, “you can have whatever bedroom you want, doll. I’m going to make something for you to eat.”

You had looked back at Bucky, swept your eyes over him as he stood with his back at the stove, his hands pressed against his hips. He had appeared to be a little off, perhaps a little uncomfortable in the space though no worse for the ear.

His eyes were still as bright as ever, though there were some bags under his eyes that had been a testament to the sleepless nights he was still afflicted by. His hair was growing longer since his last cut and you could see a curl to his hair that was reminiscent of his hair in the ‘40s.

The longer you looked at him the easier you could make out the slight grey to his scruff that was a sign of him aging naturally without the aid of cryogenic freezing. He was beautiful; he always was beautiful.

You pressed your fingers against your bottom lip and extended your hand in a physical sign of thanks, then you turned and continued up the stairs to the second level of the cabin.

Once you had taken off the last step and had come to the top level, you had rest your hands against the railing and swept your eyes around the immediate area, looking and analyzing the small hallway that had extended from the staircase to the left and the right, leading to the two bedrooms, one of which was the master.

You first walked to the left, your feet dragging aimlessly as you shuffled down the hall. You had stopped by the first door and peeked inside the room to see a bathroom with a shower/bathtub combination with sleek brass fixtures that were made to appear vintage.

The shower/tub was against the far wall with a small window that allowed natural light to come into the bathroom, and a basic toilet and standing sink nearby. The bathroom was light in colour, grey or maybe an off blue, and was decorated only in pictures taken from around the cabin.

You had left the bathroom when there wasn’t much else to see and continued down the hall to the bedroom at the end. As you grabbed the handle and started to turn, you hesitated and listened to the sound of Bucky rummaging in the kitchen and the clanging of a metal pan or pot on the stove.

He was nervous, maybe even more so than you first thought, and his scent was reflective of that. It was still as comforting as ever, with the notes of nature and his vibranium arm combining to create a density that was addictive and equally comforting.

His scent was pure alpha, without the toxic aggressiveness that others seemed to radiate.

Bucky made you feel safe, he made you feel wanted and protected.

“It’ll be done in fifteen minutes!” He called up to you, still rummaging around the kitchen, the smell of cooking spices and vegetables was stirring the hunger that you had largely ignored.

Fifteen minutes would have given you enough time to explore both rooms, and you had made haste with opening the door to the first bedroom, slipping inside.

Like the rest of the cabin, the floors were made of hardwood that complimented the colours of the wooden walls and had been illuminated by a large window to give natural sunlight. There were blinds tied to the side, dark blue and thick white stitching along the hems.

The room was decorated simply, with a sleigh bed that was made with a patterned blanket that stretched from one end to the next and hung over the edge. Two fluffed pillows had rested against the mattress with only a peek at the duvet below the comforter. There was a wardrobe to the right of the bed, and a closet to the left, both of which had doors opened to show their lack of contents.

There was minimal artwork in the bedroom, only some of which had captured the ethereal beauty of the surrounding views and others that had been a look at NYC a few hours away.

With one bedroom down and another to go, you had left the bedroom you were in after closing the door softly behind you. You’d made your way across the hall to the other bedroom and had first taken note of the fireplace that was a sister to the one downstairs. The stone encasing the fireplace had almost mirrored the one downstairs entirely, with only a few differences in the colours of stone chosen.

Unlike the bedroom you were just in, this bedroom was much larger than the other with both an ensuite and a walk-in closet that was waiting to be used. The colours were largely the same and had been as inviting as the rest of the house, with the exception of there also being a private patio that you could out onto.

The bed was a four-poster made of deep, rich wood that stood out against the light-coloured walls, and unlike the previous bed had seemed to be a king or California king.

The supports of the bed were thick and heavy, with fine detailing carved into the posts that had continued the imagery of wildlife that had been started downstairs on the coffee table. The images were detailed enough to nearly jump out at you with surrealism.

As you approached the bed and rest your hand upon the bedding, the comforter was patterned in green, red, brown and white stripes that had been broken by the image of black bears spread systematically against the brown stripes, and elk against the green. The comforter was soft to the touch and the bed looked inviting and cozy, the kind of place and materials that made you want to nest in the depths.

From where you were standing, you could see the ensuite with the same aged and vintage style fixtures attached to the deep soaker tub and the double vanity sinks. There was stylized minimalism that had been spread throughout the bathroom and the bedroom, relying more on the surrounding nature to wow you than the designs implemented in the cabin.

“Y/N,” Bucky had called from the middle of the stairs, his voice and scent carried toward you, “come eat, omega. It’s done.”

You removed your hand from the bed and returned it to your side, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty around you before you slowly turned and left the room to join Bucky.

Soft hues of red, and orange and flecks of pink run across the sky like a wide banner that touched the lake’s surface and illuminated the clear water. The sound of some nature bedding down for the night had been matched with creatures that were becoming awake to spend the night in the cover of darkness.

It was the clutch of sleep for some and the openness of night for others that had aided the idea and feeling of peace in the late hour.

It had stretched to you and Bucky as well, the two of you settling into the cabin and basking in the glow of the sun as it set and cast its beautiful spread of colour against the skyline. It was peaceful and quiet, the moment that the two of you had taken to the front porch after unpacking and getting to know the surroundings that would be yours for the next week.

You’d spent the hours since you’d arrived, eating, unpacking and exploring the surrounding area before you’d both returned and ate again. After dinner, Bucky asked what you wanted to do offering suggestions like playing a board game or watching television.

All you could think of wanting to do was sit outside and enjoy the setting sun. All you had wanted to occupy your time with was the setting sun and the Adirondack chairs on the porch, the soft blankets that were provided and a cup of tea.

“It’s beautiful out there.” Your sign language was slow and languid, no rush necessary.

“It’s quiet,” Bucky replied as he sat next to you, some tension still lingering in his shoulders and chest, his eyes almost hazy in thought, “I’ve been here before.”

“Have you?” You questioned with the subtle movements of your fingers as you silently asked. “When?”

“In a dream,” he was quiet, speaking in a husky whisper, “one of the best dreams I’ve ever had.”

“You deserve good dreams, Bucky. You deserve so much in this world.” You turned your head and looked at him, your eyes sweeping over his face while he studied the edge of the water, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“Do I?” It was as if he was asking himself as if he was doubting his worth. “Do I deserve the world?”

“Yes.” You reached over toward him, mouthing your answer and using one hand to communicate. “You do.”

“And if I don’t want the world?” He finally looked at you, finally settled his warm gaze upon your face in a manner of appreciation that should have been placated onto a piece of artwork. “What if my world is…someone…”

“I know what’s going to happen here,” you had silently sighed, the back of your head resting against the right side of your chair, “I know I’m going to leave here a different omega.”

“We don’t have to do this.” Bucky had resigned himself to self-doubt, misconstruing your words. “Y/N, sweetheart…your heat is going to set off my rut and I don’t think I have the ability to stop myself.”

“I don’t want you to stop yourself. I don’t want you to hold back, I knew what would happen if we came here together. I knew that we would end up mating, but I also know that there’s no one else in the world I would rather be with.” You had turned to face him, your fingers moving at a pace that was set by your brain as your mutism had required you to speak with your hands.

“You want to be my omega?” Bucky had still doubted himself, it was there in his mind just as boldly as it was there on the tip of his tongue. “You want to be my mate?”

“I want to be your everything.” You reiterated your feelings, your wants and desires. “You are a good man; a good alpha. You’re my hero Bucky and I don’t mean that lightly.”

“Omega-“

“I’m adopted,” you relayed your message as you faced him, your mouth moving in time with your fingers as you communicated with ASL, “not many parents want a broken omega. Not many parents are willing to adopt an omega who’s damaged, who can’t speak and can only make small sounds.”

“You’re not broken, you’re perfect-“

“The Barton’s adopted me, their first choice was an omega who couldn’t speak and who very likely would never speak. They gave me a family, a brother who I adore and love endlessly. They gave me a chance to thrive and become an omega who’s worth something.” You spoke of your family with only the highest regards, knowing that they had saved you when your biological parents didn’t want you nor had any others.

“You are my hero, Bucky. You will always be my hero.” You leaned over to Bucky and pressed your hands against his chest, palms flush with his body. “I will always want you, I will always need you.”

“You want to be my mate?” Bucky asked, airily. “You want me to be your alpha?”

“Yes.” You signed with assuredness. “You are the only one I want. When we leave here, I hope I have the honour of bearing your mark.”

Bucky grasped your hand and turned it over before he lift your palm to his lips and kissed your flesh softly. He had let his lips linger before he touched the inside of your wrist with his nose, breathing you in and scenting you all the same.

An answer came softly and tenderly, spoken against your flesh. “I’ll be a good alpha for you, I promise.”

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imaginedreamwrite · 2 years

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Unburdened: Part 11

A/N: slight smut in the second half

Soft textured blankets lined the bed, purposefully draped across the mattress to create a dense layer of cushion and warmth. The chosen blankets had been enhanced with soft and light grazing of essential oils and scents that would help ease the formative symptoms of a powerful heat cycle that would set in likely in the early hours of the morning.

Bucky was almost certain to a fault that by the time you woke up, you would be in the beginning thicket of the cycle that would bring both of you together as mates.

He was almost certain, and in his certainty, had come a compulsion to make and create a safe place for you and himself to be together. He intended to create it as a surprise, he had wanted to make you a nest as a sign of good faith that he could be the kind of alpha you needed and deserved. He desired to do everything he could to provide for you as a good alpha should.

He had done what he could, used what materials had been here and what he had brought with him to create this nest. He used your favourite blanket on the base, the first layer of comfort for you to indulge yourself with before he added the next layers. Bucky had found softer pillows in the storage room of the small basement, and after dusting them off and cleaning them, he replaced the firmer ones. He had draped soft and airy cotton sheets above the bed to create the feeling of a cove that you could have crawled into, almost like it was a den. With the roof structured and the walls crafted with the same kind of sheets he had used for the roof, Bucky had found and strung warm fairy lights above the bed to illuminate the cove in a delicate glow.

When he was done, when he finally perfected the nest he had made for you, he departed the bedroom to find you. You had made your desire to go outside and explore the immediate surroundings known, and Bucky had only allowed you to leave when you promised headily that you would stay close and not be long. It was just enough time for Bucky to create the nest and prepare it for you.

“Y/N,” he called your name after stepping outside and taking the few steps down the porch to the front of the cabin, “are you around?”

He heard movement from the right of the cabin, and he could detect the surging growth of your scent as you drew closer. He knew you were approaching your heat, he knew his suspicion and approximation of when it would arrive was right. You would be in the throes of your heat by tomorrow morning, and the start of the cycle would bring you and Bucky together as a mated pair.

“I’m here.” You stepped through the tree line, your fingers moving close to your chest in reply to his question.

Upon seeing you Bucky had physically relaxed and let out the breath he was holding in, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. He had let out a breath of air in a huff watching you carefully as you made your way toward him before you had stopped a foot away. You were facing him head-on, your hands covered in soft gloves and an oversized toque on your head to stave off the chill this morning that had settled over the area.

You had stolen his jacket from the hook just inside the door, wrapping yourself in the thick flannel and fleece that had brought you comfort in more ways than just warmth. You had been scenting his jacket as if it was himself, Bucky could detect the mix of yours and his as it clung to the patterned fabric. His scent was surrounding you. It was clinging to your flesh and it was woven into your hair that was freely hanging down, even beneath the toque. Bucky had found himself incredibly pleased by the idea of his scent coating and covering you like a blanket, draped and integrated into your clothes and hair. It was innate, the way his entire body seemed to preen at the idea of you being his so wholly and completely.

It was instinctual to be pleased by you and his scent becoming one kind of life force. It was instinctual and so was the soft purr that had been building in his chest and throat, the sound simultaneously soft and powerful.

The sound of his purr had caught you off guard. It had made you falter, rendering you unable to do much of anything but blink and breathe as you tried to process what had just happened. He could see you, he could see the wheels in your head turning as you rendered and registered the sound that left his lips, and only after a moment had you been pulled from the daze you were in.

“You purred.” You signed to Bucky, a wide and breathtaking grin forming on your face. “You purred! That’s amazing!”

You had bound toward him, closing what little distance there was, and snaked your arms around his shoulders. You hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek with an excitement that was as addictive as it was influential. Your happiness for Bucky and his soft purring had heightened his happiness for you in a cycle that seemed to repeat itself.

You were happy that he was happy, and it was the most powerful jolt to his entire being as an alpha. That marker of your happiness due to his happiness was incredibly telling about the two of you as a whole.

“You’re cold.” He muttered into your ear, slipping his arms around your waist to steady you and give you a boost of body heat. “You should come inside.”

“My heart,” you pulled back to be able to sign your reply to him, “is coming quick. I get colder-“

“-Before you get hotter.” Bucky had continued for you, stating what he had known to be a fact. “We should go in.”

“It’s beautiful.” Your fingers grazed his chest, continuing your sign language as you described the area around you. “Everything here is so…peaceful.”

“It’s relaxing.” Bucky cupped your cheek, slowly brushing his thumb back and forth against your chilled cheeks. “Are you hungry? You should eat, you need to stock up on your energy.”

“I am a little.” You mouthed and signed simultaneously, working in tangency to communicate. “And in desperate need of hot chocolate. Want some?”

“You should let me make it for you.” Bucky dropped his hand to the small of your back, astutely directing you back toward the cabin’s entrance.

He held the door open for you, letting you pass and then locking the door behind you both. He subtly studied you while you took your boots off and set them aside, and then removed Bucky’s flannel jacket. You hung it on the hook with nimble fingers, and then you looked back at him with a smile on your face.

“Hot chocolate,” Bucky’s lips twitched and were quickly pulled into a half-smile, “with little marshmallows?”

“And cinnamon.” You squeaked after signing, one of the few sounds you could make that Bucky had interpreted as the closest thing to a chirp.

“Wanna help?” he motioned you toward the kitchen with the tilt of his head, letting you pass again.

You had moved past him with such fluidity, such natural ease in the space, it made Bucky think of the dream he had of you and your future. The kind of domestic bliss he never thought he could have had, and here was the beginning of it. It was laid out before him, the foundations of the endearing life he wanted.

Bucky felt it as if it was the beginning of the winding tale, he felt as though he was standing above the written pages of a book studying and searching the pages of his own story.

You were here, and this place would be your future home.

You were with Bucky, and he would be the best damn alpha he could be for you.

Bucky knew he would be a good alpha, he knew he would be a good father and a good mate. He had felt it deep within himself, the promise and the internal vow he made to be everything you needed.

He owed it to himself, and he owed it to you.

“I love it here.” Your fingers moved seamlessly, conveying your message to Bucky while you were busying yourself with steaming milk.

“It’s quiet, it’s perfect.” Bucky stood close to you, watching you with nothing less than pure devotion.

In the coming hours, you would be affected by the thick and potent force of your heat, and your heat would set off his rut.

In the few hours that would come and go between now and the start of your heat, you and Bucky would spend the night talking. You would conform to one another and relax, preparing for the upcoming storm.

Moments had passed, minutes turned to hours and the sun had already begun to set.

After hot chocolate and food, Bucky and you had returned to the living room where you settled yourselves upon the couch.

The rest of the late afternoon and evening was spent in constant contact. You had shifted your position a few times from where you first started when you were sitting next to Bucky before you had settled yourself in his lap and rested your head against his shoulder.

You would ultimately end up draped across the couch with your head resting on his lap, sighing airily when he stroked your hair and purred softly.

“Bucky,” you tapped your fingers against his thigh, your yawns becoming far more frequent, “can we go to bed?”

“Yes, baby,” Bucky muttered softly, his voice bringing you comfort and security. “I made you a nest.”

“You made me a nest?” You sat up and questioned him, your fingers fluttering as you signed your message to him.

“I hope you like it.” He had remained nervous, running his fingers through his hair. “I tried-“

You had bound like a deer from the couch, unexpectedly running up the stairs with a vigour that had surprised him. Bucky himself had been languidly rising to his feet to follow after you, listening to the soft little sounds that you could make, the squeaks that had presented themselves as chirps.

When he had come upon you in the bedroom, Bucky had stood back in order to observe you at the moment that had transcended itself. He didn’t quite find himself as elated with the nest as he had hoped when he first started making it, however, now that he had seen you in the room it had all changed.

Bucky was quick to learn from your scent and the soft squeaks that rolled from your tongue that you hadn’t just appreciated the nest, but you loved it. He could feel your emotional shifts, he could recognize the spike in your scent that was an indication of how pleased you were about it all. There was no doubt that Bucky had done good, that he had made something you appreciated.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You had turned toward him giving him a physical confirmation of your appreciation for what he had done, for taking the initiative and creating something you had fond comfort in.

“Is it good?” Bucky had spoken and signed simultaneously, knowing that his voice as your future alpha was as comforting as it was invigorating.

“It’s perfect.” You had slowly stepped toward him, your fingers fluttering as you formed your message and communicated silently. “You are a good man.”

When you had stepped toward him you rest your hand upon his chest, your palm flush against him to feel his heartbeat against you. Your eyes met his, the freeing exchange of desire, deeply rooted care reflecting back and forth between you two was just another reiteration that you two were good together.

You two were made for each other.

“Come with me.” You moved your lips to the silent words, mouthing your message while signing. “Come sit with me.”

You grabbed his vibranium hand to lead him to the nest he created. You had led him to the bed to push him to the mattress while you had stood before him. He couldn’t have looked away even if he was taking his last breath, he would have had to look at you.

“You are a good alpha,” your message was delivered with your fingers moving delicately close to his chest, “you are everything I’ve ever needed.”

You stepped between his legs, your hands meeting his shoulders before you raised your right hand and stroked his hair at the nape of his neck. Bucky had leaned forward and rested his head against you, inhaling and exhaling slowly to fill his lungs with every note of your scent. He had filled himself with you as you stroked his hair, gently scraping your nails against his scalp in slow circles.

“I promise,” Bucky turned his head to place a slew of soft kisses against your stomach and all that he could reach without moving, “I am going to keep you safe. I’m going to take care of you how you need. I’m going to be a good alpha, I’m going to give us the life we both deserve.”

Bucky had woken before you did to the feel of heat radiating through his plain cotton shirt and the dampness of the top blanket that was quickly becoming a vessel for the first symptoms of your heat. He didn’t dare wake you up before he rolled over and checked the time and pulled himself from bed to get you water.

He had moved as quietly as possible, taking one slow step at a time until he had gotten to the lower level of the cabin. As he touched the bottom, he cast a look over his shoulder waiting to hear any sign of you waking up. With reassurance that you were still sleeping, Bucky had shuffled to the kitchen and opened the fridge to grab a few of the still-sealed bottles of water, tucking them under his arm. When he had closed the fridge again and turned back to face the staircase, he had heard the sound of you waking up to be hit with your heat. The sound of rustling and the creak of the floor as you got off the bed had been what spurred Bucky to head back.

He had taken the steps two at a time until he had come to the landing, and then he had stopped. He could catch the twisted spikes of your heat and the sudden shift from light and airy to intoxicating and mouth-watering. It was your heat and the change it had on your scent that had afflicted Bucky with the powerful punch of his cycle. It had landed straight in his gut, the jab of an omega in heat that he had recognized as his.

His hindbrain, and likely yours as well, were driving you to not just be together but to give in to the other completely.

Bucky’s long strides took him straight into the bedroom where he had seen the discarded blankets and had been hit with the powerful jolt of your heat. It had slammed into him with the force of a brick wall, the contrasting shift was impossible to ignore and Bucky had no sooner thrown the bottles of water to the bed when you had stumbled out of the bathroom.

“Please…” you mouthed the words, hands tugging on one of his shirts you had borrowed. “Bucky. Hurts.”

“I’m here.” He stepped toward you, meeting you halfway and catching you when you stumbled into his arms. “Let’s get you to bed and then I’ll help you.”

He led you back to the mattress and laid you down, his hands running up and down your waist and hips feeling you quake beneath his touch. His fingertips, both flesh and metal, had dipped and curled against your flesh to bring you temporary relief, even though you would be needing more soon.

“Bucky please…” you pleaded again, barely getting the message across due to your shaking fingers. “Please-!”

Bucky had cooed softly, getting on the bed before you with one leg on either side of yours. He had hovered above you, studying you as you clenched your jaw with need and desire, your body flooded with all-powerful heat. Bucky had reached out toward you, resting one hand against your barely clothed left breast while the other hand grabbed and twisted the material of his shirt that you had borrowed.

“I’m going to take care of you.” He promised you, tugging the shirt up your belly to the bottom of your breasts. “I’m going to make you feel good.”

He had dropped his head and placed soft open-mouthed kisses on your flesh, trailing his lips and sequential heat from his flesh lower to your hips and pelvis. His actions were soft, they were rooted with desire and gentility as he tasted your skin and the reactive scent that lingered. There was no rush for him, no need to dive in immediately, not when he wanted to make this experience pleasant for you.

He could feel the draw of your heat on his own body, kickstarting the primordial and preternatural shift from an alpha who was watching his omega settle into her heat, to an alpha who was directly thrown into a rut because of his omegas heat.

And still, despite the rut that was going to start taking control of him, Bucky was not going to rush this moment for you.

“Tongue,” your hand resting against his head, one-handedly communicating with him, “I need to feel your tongue.”

“I know it hurts, I know what you need.” He muttered against the inside of your thighs, using his tongue to help clean and taste the slick that had been pouring from your puffy pussy lips. It was as if he was tasting honey pure and unfiltered upon his tongue, the way that your slick juices that were steadily being produced as a drive to make him sink into your cunt was unhindered.

“Bucky!” You tapped his head, signing his name with one hand as desperation had become you. “Please!”

He ran his hands up and around your thighs before cupping the back of your legs to pull you closer to himself. He had brushed his lips against the inside of your thighs, occasionally nipping at your flesh while his fingers dusted over your puffy pussy lips. He felt you squirming, he felt your desire and although he couldn’t hear the sound of your pleasure, he knew you had felt it. He had felt every surge and pulse between you two, every emotion meeting the other until it was a delirious mess that hovered like fog.

“I need to be sure, it’s not too late to change your mind,” Bucky questioned you again, he wanted the confirmation that would bring him a reiterated assurance that you wanted him as your mate.

“Yes,” you nodded your head, your sign language a stark reminder that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you, “I want this and is want you.”

“I’ll be everything you need,” Bucky mumbled against your thighs, creating and verbalizing a vow before he had even attempted to put his lips on your dripping pussy. “I’ll give you everything you want. I’ll be good for you.”

You brushed your hand down his hair, stealing his attention from his task. You locked eyes with him and smiled through the haze, casting him an irrevocable look of pure unadulterated affection and desire It was your promise in a way. It was your curated vow that you too, old care for Bucky as he had cared for you.

“I love you.” He mumbled against the inside of your thigh, unafraid to let the words fall from his tongue. “I love you, Y/N.”

It was the pivotal moment the two of you had been expecting, when Bucky’s tongue had met your soaked flesh and your hand gripped his hair.

It was what both of you wanted; what you’d both needed.