Chapter Text
He’s only been pregnant for three weeks. They haven’t even told the other Avengers, yet. But Bucky’s body - although still lithe, muscular and strong - feels like a fucking firework waiting to go off.
To put it bluntly: he feels needy . Desperate for everything , but it’s not just sexual. It’s like this hunger for knowledge, food, happiness, and pleasure; basically everything life has to offer.
He feels human longing, it’s as though his zest for life is entirely renewed. It’s not a bad feeling, though it is a little scary. Because Bucky wants. He doesn’t like to think of the years he wasted punishing himself for the actions of the Winter Soldier when the whole wide world was there, waiting for him to see it like Steve was.
But coupled with this newfound longing is this aching need to be closer to Steve. To Bucky’s gratitude, Steve seems to feel the same because he is never too far from the omega.
Bucky talks to him while Steve will listen raptly, content to see the omega so excited about whatever new discovery he’s made. And Bucky feels glad to have an alpha like Steve, who doesn’t get jealous when Bucky’s attention is elsewhere - as it often is these days.
Often times, someone will catch Bucky reading books from a range of topics, from parenthood to PVC piping. Or Bucky would have these urges to watch any and everything on TV, or these cravings for a variety of foods he’s never tried before. He has this desire to expand his world, his universe.
In fact, he’s now sitting in the living room of the Tower, hanging out with Steve, watching some show on TV. Although, he’s not exactly watching the show. Instead, Steve’s watching it while Bucky’s head sits in Steve’s warm lap. Lying horizontally across the couch, he’s reading another book, his third of the week, this one is about achieving one’s destiny and letting go of bad habits.
It’s pretty late and the rest of the house is mostly asleep. Steve’s fingers thread through Bucky’s dark brown hair absent-mindedly while he attempts to focus on the late-night comedy show.
It’s been awhile since they’ve really had any sort of sex. Sure, there’s been a few quick kisses. Or sometimes they’ll rub off against each other, delighting in the friction as if they’re still sixteen year olds trying to get off in secret. But other than that, there hasn’t been much else going on.
Bucky knows that Steve won’t push, because the alpha understands Bucky’s rediscovery of life; that it will take him awhile before he’s back to being the evil sex demon he was before. And Bucky appreciates that, more than Steve will ever know.
It’s the fifth week of Bucky’s pregnancy and it’s also the day Steve and he have planned to make the announcement. He’s only slightly nervous due to the fact that they’ll finally be making it real.
As Steve calls everyone into the conference room, Bucky stands beside him, looking up at Steve adoringly.
“Bucky and I have some good news to share,” The alpha says, looping an arm around Bucky’s waist and pulling him closer.
Thor, who had only returned from Asgard yesterday, is the first to speak.
“Tell us of this ‘good news’.” His hearty smile is as welcoming and joyful as always.
Steve kisses Bucky’s temple. “Do you want to tell them?”
Bucky actually falters for a moment. He’s never been great at being told to speak on the spot, but by the way Steve’s eyes shine with pride, Bucky figures it’s worth a shot.
“I’m pregnant.”
Huge, toothy smiles shine their way as well as claps and wolf whistles.
“How far along are you?” Bruce asks inquisitively, and suddenly everyone’s eyes all hold overwhelming curiosity.
Bucky shrugs; it’s not as if he’s been counting.
Okay, he has.
“I’m five weeks.” More wolf whistles.
“Congratulations,” Stark praises them enthusiastically. “I think we should celebrate.”
“What’d you have in mind?” Bruce asks, raising an eyebrow.
“We’ll have a party here, of course. This way, we celebrate safely.”
Everyone nods. And then they rise from their seats to pat Bucky and Steve on the back.
The party happens a few days after Bucky and Steve learn that Bucky’s carrying twins. Giving them, as Stark says, twice the reason to celebrate. It seems to be going well. A lot of people who Bucky vaguely knows, but knows just enough to like , come. Such as Coulson, Maria Hill, some of Bruce’s colleagues, a lot of Tony’s friends, including Rhodey, and even Scott Lang. At Scott Lang’s presence, Sam’s features light up with delight.
Bucky enjoys the attention and praise, sure, but it’s seeing Steve’s face brighten with pride and adoration that makes Bucky even happier.
They’ve been inseparable for most of the night, except on the rare occasions that Bucky finds his way to the bar, where Nat is serving drinks. He can’t have anything with alcohol, obviously, but she does occasionally hand him a glass brimming with bright, red cranberry juice or just plain water. This is only so he doesn’t get dehydrated.
He doesn’t want anything to drink now, just wants to make sure his friends are having fun and feels the need to get away from the constant attention, even if it’s for a single second.
Nat smiles at him as he takes a seat.
“Having a good time?” She asks, wiping down the counter.
“Definitely,” He smirks, “ Just need a break is all.”
She nods, before pointing in the direction of Sam and Scott. Sam’s shamelessly flirting, while Scott seems to be enjoying the attention.
“Bet those two will hook up by the night’s end.”
Bucky scoffs, pretending to be offended as he replies, “That’s an easy bet, Romanov. It’s obvious. Don’t insult my intelligence.”
She rolls her eyes playfully. “What intelligence?”
That earns her an unamused glare from Bucky, but it holds no steam behind it. “A more challenging bet would be how long it’s going to take before Rhodey realizes that he can’t win a drinking contest against Thor.”
She smirks. “You’re on. I bet three more hours."
“Maybe thirty minutes?” He guesses, and then they’re both laughing.
“Well, hello there,” Someone whistles appreciatively, “You know, that Captain America’s a lucky guy.”
Bucky frowns, because this alpha can’t be serious. He turns around to give the brash alpha a piece of his mind, when all he can focus on is a pair of bright green eyes staring into his own.
He extends a hand to Bucky. “My name’s Peter Quill. It’s nice to meet you.”
Bucky doesn’t take it. He only narrows his eyes at the other man, failing to intimidate Quill.
“Nice shindig you guys got going here. Pretty neat.” He takes the available seat beside Bucky, to the omega’s annoyance. There’s something about the alpha that seems off. His scent, maybe? It’s potent, overpowering. His eyes shift about the room, but they always return to Bucky, appraising him. Bucky’s sure that he has probably been doing that all night. And then Bucky examines him even more closely. As Quill’s nostrils flare slightly, it all starts to come together.
“You’re in rut ,” He whispers.
Quill nods, not even possessing the decency to deny it. Bucky chances a quick glance over at Nat, but she’s busy mixing margaritas.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home or something?” Bucky asks feverishly.
Quill simply shrugs, replying, “I heard there was a celebration. Didn’t want to miss it.”
Bucky doesn’t know why he’s suddenly agitated, but he plans to ignore Quill for the rest of the night. He read somewhere that unmated alphas can trigger intense heats in pregnant omegas while in rut, because of the amount of hormones awash in the omega’s body. He doesn’t want to go into heat while he’s pregnant. He’d die if he did anything to risk hurting Steve’s children, especially because some careless alpha didn’t steer clear.
Bucky rises from the bar stool and goes to get lost in the crowd. Luckily, everyone’s pretty hammered, so Bucky can manage to be inconspicuous. A song begins playing on the overhead speakers. The female singer snarls the filthy lyrics while the bass thumps in the background. It seems to carry the crowd into a trance.
Everyone seems to either be making out or grinding on one another, causing Bucky to smirk. So much for a classy party. Not that he minds - a part of him wants to find Steve so they can go somewhere more private.
That’s when he senses it - someone’s following him. Bucky leaves the crowd, the back of his neck damp with sweat, heading to one of the seemingly empty hallways of the Tower.
Before he can get far or manage to turn around, someone presses him into a nearby wall. It’s not violent enough to hurt, but definitely firm enough to knock the breath from his lungs.
“Such a pretty bitch,” He feels rather than hears Quill whisper against the flesh of his warm neck.
Bucky attempts to struggle, but this only causes Quill to press him more forcefully into the wall. He has Bucky’s hands held behind his back and the omega can feel the hard pressure of Quill’s dick against his backside.
“The way I see it, we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Quill seethes menacingly.
Bucky’s metal arm whirls with power, and yet it’s just as helpless as the rest of his body is against the stronger alpha.
“You’re going to get me off like a good little bitch, and then maybe I’ll show you some mercy. Or, you can put up a struggle and have someone walk in on you and leave you in shame.” Peter’s breath is warm against his skin.
Bucky says nothing, isn’t willing to give him the satisfaction. But then Quill’s fingers card through Bucky’s hair and he gives a sharp pull, enough for the omega to cry out.
“What’s it gonna be?” Quill grunts.
“Fuck you,” Bucky curses contemptuously, causing Quill to rub his clothed cock at a torturously slow pace against the seam of the omega’s pants. To Bucky’s horror, his body appears to like it, the feeling of slick beneath his boxers growing more intense.
Quill hums appreciatively. “You know, in all honesty, I’d rather be fucking you.” He pulls Bucky’s hair again. “Already wet for me, baby?”
Bucky wants to deny it, but he feels his own cock filling, his hole leaking, and it’s so shameful that he’s actually getting off right now. It’s wrong .
Quill’s hand reaches around to slip into the front of Bucky’s trousers, causing Bucky to whimper once they take hold of the omega’s thickening length. Deft fingers rake across the leaking slit.
“I can fuck the pain out of you,” Quill promises, tongue circling along the shell of Bucky’s ear while his hand wraps around the omega’s swollen flesh, “Make you forget everything but your own name. Because let’s face it, you may be wasted as a superhero, but you’d be so good for me.”
Bucky’s hole clenches, liking every word. He contemplates giving in and making his pleasure apparent.
Instead, he spits out, “I’d die first.”
Quill doesn’t respond, only continues rubbing up against Bucky’s ass tantalizingly, the hand stroking Bucky’s arousal picking up the pace. Bucky is paralyzed, his breathing coming out shallow and fast. He can feel his orgasm as well as something else, something darker and harder to define, coming alive inside him, and is helpless to stop it.
A part of him wants Quill to continue to use him, use him and leave him be. But the other part of him, the part that makes him ashamed, wants Quill to fuck him, taint him, soil him. It’s addicting, so he tries not to think at all. Instead, he hears himself breathing like a wanton whore, Quill silent now, too, seeming to enjoy the feel of Bucky’s plush ass against his cock.
He rubs harder in tandem with the hand jacking Bucky off. Bucky can feel his hips actually moving to meet Quill’s and he knows he’s probably red all over. His stupid, broken body is trying to present itself to the unknown alpha, offering itself up like some sort of sacrifice. Quill is obviously pleased.
He grins, turning Bucky to face him. Bucky resists looking in his eyes, letting out a moan when the alpha rubs their groins together. He wants to bite down on the tongue that makes its way into his mouth, but he finds that he can’t, not when he can feel himself at the edge.
Quill’s hips piston into Bucky’s while one of the alpha’s hands finds Bucky’s nipple. Need to s-stop him, but c-can’t , Bucky thinks.
Quill comes first, groaning rawly into Bucky’s mouth. A small part of Bucky hopes that he’ll leave the omega now, leave him on the edge. But Quill doesn’t. He lifts Bucky’s shirt, tongueing a nipple before toying with the hard, pink nub between his teeth. His hand continues to jerk Bucky off. The omega bites down on his lip in response, trying to quiet the obscene sounds he’s making, but to no avail.
He’s almost delirious with the need to reach his release.
Luckily, it doesn’t take too long for his vision to go fuzzy and lucid. Then he’s gone, just like that, coming so hard that he nearly blacks out.
Quill lets Bucky slump into his arms, whispering words that shouldn’t give Bucky phantom shocks of pleasure. Yet, they do.
“Told you that you’d be good. Such a good little bitch. You were made for this.”
When Bucky’s vision finally stops swimming, he looks up at Quill, who is smirking down at him. Neither of them says a word.
Footsteps can be heard coming down the hall, but Bucky can’t move, not even when he hears Steve’s concerned voice call his name. To his horror, Quill doesn’t seem to want to either. The hallway smells of sex and they both look utterly debauched. It would be impossible to hide what they have done.
Suddenly Steve’s standing there watching them with an array of emotions crossing his face.
“Steve,” Bucky chokes, feeling the tears begin to approach.
“Bucky?” He asks, before his brilliant blue eyes notice Quill. “Oh, you son of a bitch! ”