Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve

“I don't want to meet with the new alpha, Natasha.” Steve’s voice is low and calm. But he feels far from it. Hydra is a rival wolf pack. They’ve been at war essentially since the beginning of their packs hundreds of years ago. Both packs have grown tremendously and both of them have their own clans divided across the world. Steve is an Apex Alpha. He has the final say in all decisions made for the entire Avengers pack, not just their clan which lives together in a pack house on their land, their territory.

Steve was adopted and taken into the Avengers pack forty years ago as an infant. Twenty years ago Hydra made their first bold move. They killed the original alpha of the Avengers pack. Nick Fury, who adopted him. He was the only apex alpha in the entire pack, not to mention raised by the former alpha and trained to possibly become one.

He isn’t a bad alpha for his pack. But he is cold, and he is hardened by time and the trauma of witnessing so much loss at the hands of Hydra.

Over the last twenty years omegas have been stolen and tortured and murdered, only to be sent back to them dead as though it were a warning.

Every retaliation resulted in more bloodshed.

They could not form a treaty because Hydra refused. They wanted to be the highest ranking pack but because the Avengers are known for being helpful, they could not take their rank. 

They’ve gone around the world picking at their members. They always target omegas and children.

Steve doesn't know what they think will happen. Every time one of their own dies the Avengers hunt down the culprits and murder them, to ensure it stops. But it never does. So the cycle of blood shed just keeps continuing.

They try to protect their omegas and pups. They have treaties with other packs trying to do the same. But omegas are easily manipulated. If Hydra plays the sound of a baby crying they will run. And pups are pups. They’ll do what they want if they’re headstrong. And if Hydra uses one of their own omegas and pups to lure the pup close, they fall into their trap.

A few weeks ago they got Dolores, or Dot. A beloved omega and a close friend of Steve’s. The tortured her, raped her, murdered her, and decides to video it and send it to him. Natasha shredded Alexander Pierce when the old deranged alpha admitted to it. 

Pierce said they wanted to destroy Steve without having to kill him because they couldn't.

He’s an apex alpha. He is naturally more enhanced than even normal alpha. He can control his scent and pheromones to calm people. He can regulate his emotions or even turn off his emotions when necessary for the safety of his pack. He has greater stamina and greater natural strength. He isn't immortal by any means, but he also heals faster.

If they tried ambushing him they would fail. If he sacrificed himself Sam would take the role as a leader because he is a gamma and Steve’s second in command and he trusts him the most. But the fight wouldn't end because neither would the Avengers. 

It isn't an easy situation to navigate.

For some reason, the new alpha of Hydra, Brock Rumlow, has reached out to Natasha, a beta, and his delta, asking to arrange a private meeting. He doesn't want to. Even with his control and restraint. If he taunts him once about any of their losses that THEY caused he will lose it.

“Steve.” Nat puts a hand on his shoulder. “I know.”

He swallows and looks away from her. His heart thumps harder in his chest and his stomach churns. He's the alpha. He’s supposed to do the difficult things to protect his pack. A measly meeting is easy enough that he shouldn't be so unwilling to go.

“Don't do that,” Nat whispers. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll have backup. Okay?”

“Fighing isn't what I’m afraid of.”

And he agrees to meet with Brock. In between their two territories, in the middle of the forest. Both in their human form. No weapons. 

“I want to form a treaty.” And it’s like a record scratch moment. After everything they’ve done they don't deserve a treaty. They don't deserve to live in peace after all the pain they've caused. But the Avengers can't let an entire pack suffer because of the actions of their leaders. And a treaty would stop everyone’s pain.

Steve hesitates before responding. “Continue.” Treaties can be formed in many ways. An omega being offered for marriage in severe cases. Promise of supplies back and forth. A promise that if one pack is in trouble, the other pack will defend them, and likewise.

They’ve tried for years and Hydra always refuses.

“We’re offering you an omega. A peace offering. We won't fight anymore. And we need supplies.”

The Avengers are known both for being industrial and their medicinal plant and firewood. They trade with many packs and sell to others. He would be willing to make this deal.

“After all that you have done, how can I trust you?” Because this could be another hoax. They could show up to collect the omega and they could be immediately attacked. More war. More bloodshed. And more loss, not just for the Avengers but for Hydra as well. He wants to believe him.

“We’re low on supplies. Nobody will trade to us. Our pack is growing but not thriving. If you mate with an omega from our pack it will create a bond.” He knows how it works. If he mates with an omega from their pack it will create a treaty that by law cannot be broken. If it is, it won't just be the Avengers retaliating.

“You’re genuine,” he states.

“I am. The omega is of age. He’s been orphaned so he doesn't have anything with us anyway. He’s pliant. He follows instructions. He can be easily trained. If you want,  he is of pup-bearing age.” He talks about him as though he isn’t even an omega but a product he's trying to sell Steve on.

But he would be a fool to say no.

He would be a fool to be convinced this was real.

But if it is, he must say yes.

“When do we make the exchange?”

“Tonight. We will have the omega ready for you by tonight.”

“I don’t trust them.” Is what Sam says when Steve tells him what Brock proposed. “What if the omega is out to kill you, huh? Or if the omega is completely made up. Any number of this could happen tonight and every single one I’m picturing- someone’s head is ending up on a stick.” 

His mind has drifted there over and over again. He has run through all the possible attacks Hydra could have orchestrated. But it makes sense at the same time. The Avengers would be the most forgiving pack- despite them being the ones hit the hardest. But this is a means to an end. They need help, they’re about to agree to a treaty that could result in permanent peace. But if they do break it the Directorate of Pack Affairs (DPA) will have all of them exterminated. He doesn't think they could risk that.

“Sam, this could be peace,” he whispers. “If they break the treaty you know what happens.”

“Nobody is stupid enough to break a treaty intentionally. But any pack or clan can lie. Steve, it could be your head on a stick.” Sam looks genuinely afraid. “We have treaties with the SHIELD pack and the Defenders Pack. we could get together next time they try something- this could go so wrong.”

He takes his friend’s words to heart. But he feels he has to try this. “If that does happen you will take over.”

Sam’s face falls from anger to realisation. “You really trust them?”

Not in the fucking slightest.

But he has to try because this could better a lot of packs’ lives including theirs.

“I don’t, Sam. But I need to try this, do you understand?”

“Rogers, you can't.” The deep British accent makes Steve’s heart lurch. Peggy. They served in the Army together fifteen years ago now. She was rogue after leaving London. She became a part of their pack because she saved his life and they became very close. She’s an alpha, and a gamma. “If we lose you, nothing will ever be the same.”

It does make him feel a bit of guilt. Even if it would be in the pack’s best interest, and there is someone, Sam, trained and ready to take over in the case of sudden death, it would devastate his friends. “Peg.”

“Steve,” she counters, her voice quieter. “What if it’s a trap?”

He gives her a gentle smile. It’s unlikely in the case of an ambush anything deadly would happen to him. And his clan will lurk deeper in the forest so they are not in immediate danger. “Don’t underestimate me, Agent Carter. Everything will be alright. You hear me?”

Sam shakes his head, eyes on the ground. “Nah, I hear you man. I just don’t believe you.”

Bucky

“I don't want to be mated,” Bucky whispers. How could they suggest such a thing? He’s only recently had his heat. He was considered a pup A WEEK AGO! Now they’re talking about giving him away to the Avengers? Whom they have been torturing for over a century? He walked in on Brock strangling a toddler a few years ago. He thinks he’s going to be killed, honestly. As payback. “I don’t get it. Why me?”

“You're the softest,” Jack tells him. “Recently presented. You’ll be helpless to the commands of an apex alpha.”

They know what they're doing. They could do this in a different way if they weren't so fucking power hungry. They want to have some kind of upper hand. Avengers won't ever be able to come at them. For anything. Even if they uncover something majorly fucked up that Hydra did a few months ago and covered up.

Honestly, they could murder Bucky for it instead and make it look like an accident. The treaty still stands because the DPA would rule his death an accident.

This could go so many ways. And all of them are bad.

“You will be alright, James.” Becca tells him, coming to kneel beside him. She's his older sister, an alpha, but just a hunter. A mundane wolf in their pack. Almost as low ranking as he is. “You’ll be mated to the alpha. You’ll be a luna. Is that not.. Exciting? He will treat you well. You know how the Avengers are.”

He also watched a red wolf with green eyes literally shred their former alpha a week ago. What if he steps out of line? What if his pack blames him for something and the Avengers murder him for it? Pierce’s screams still absolutely haunt him. Terrible alpha or not. Terrible way to go. Traumatic- for everyone who saw it.

Rebecca looks at him sadly. She leans in and kisses his forehead. “Come on.. I’ll help you get ready for the ceremony.”

He doesn't know what the ‘ceremony’ actually entails. He doesn't think he’s getting mated. That’s private. Even when done between alphas and their future lunas. He stands up and walks with Rebecca, his head is swimming. His whole body is shaking. He can feel his pulse thrumming all the way up his arm.

“Will he bite me?” he asks, walking into their small, shared bedroom.

“Eventually,” his sister tells him gently. “Not right away. The ceremony will be easy. Rumlow will talk to Captain Rogers. They will shake hands. Agreeing to the treat. Then you will be sent forward. There’s a blood pact- because it’s no normal marriage or mating- it’s an alliance. It will- this is hard to explain.”

But it scares him. His heart lurches. “Becca- for my sake, please try.”

She looks at him softly, she resembles their mama so much. Their papà died before they were born. Their mama was killed by Pierce when Becca was sixteen and Bucky was eight because she was having relations with an alpha from the Asgard pack. They didn't dare stand up to their former alpha. Unlike most, Hydra has no morals surrounding the murder of pups.

She reaches out and cups his cheeks, inhales slowly through her nose and then exhales slowly through her mouth before she speaks again. “Blood bonds are temporary. Within a few weeks it will be gone. But before it’s gone you both will be mated. Otherwise you face repercussions with the DPA. But it proves the Avengers’ loyalty to Hydra. They won't go back on their word. The treaty will be genuine.”

He still doesn't like it. He’s an omega. He’s squeamish by nature. He doesn't like pain. Omegas biologically have a lower pain tolerance- ironic considering they’re the ones that have to give birth.

“Will it hurt?”

“Uh- I mean they’re not gonna stab you. It’s like a paper cut. Please don't overthink it. If you overthink it you’ll panic. If you panic- you’ll run. I have no idea what they’d do if you ran but for your safety. Trust me. Breathe, my sweet. The Avengers are good. They are known for being fair. You will not be hurt.” He tries his best to believe her. And he doesn't. But as a means to comfort himself he pretends what she says is true. Like he’s playing make believe.

Rebecca runs a bath for him and puts some dried and crushed lavender and magnolia in the hot water. Because they don't have a lot of money they run out of water quickly. More importantly they run out of hot water quickly. He doesn’t usually get relaxing baths. But because he is going to be the reason for the future of their pack, he gets to be taken care of before the ceremony.

A small comfort, he supposes.

His sister brushes his hair and uses a cup to rinse it. She trims the ends, scrubs his scalp with some homemade soap that smells like cocoa, which compliments his natural scent. Which is like fresh coffee beans, with hints of dark chocolate. 

“This will make your pheromones stronger,” she says when she runs a bar of soap over his arms, focusing on his wrists. He looks at her confused, waiting for her to elaborate. And she does. “Sinks into your skin, especially your glands. It will make them stronger- omega pheromones attract alphas. It’s a biological reaction.”

That's unsettling. But she said he won’t bite him tonight. 

If he doesn't bite him tonight, he is led to assume he won't fuck him either.

He tries to relax into his sister’s touch. He is sixteen, plenty old to bathe by himself. And he does the rest of the time. But this is different. It will probably be the last time he sees his sister for a long time. And he’s really nervous. Rebecca did take on a maternal role when their mama died. If his mama were still here she would have been the one doing this- because mothers usually get their children ready for important ceremonies, especially one as important as a treaty ceremony.

Becca wraps him in a fluffy towel and blow dries his hair. He has a long wolf cut, it’s down past his collar bone but he has long choppy layers which makes it permanently messy. His hair just grows so fast as a wolf he didn't care to make the style pretty.

Would have been in his favour to do that though, now.

Becca does make it look relatively presentable. She pulls as many longer pieces back into two french braids, then ties them into a bun at the end with a baby-blue bow. “Represents purity,” she tells him. “Ceremonial.” He just nods in response. She tucks a couple of daisies into his braids and one behind his left ear. “You look lovely, Jamie.”

That does make his heart flutter. He appreciates it. He usually doesn't make himself look pretty or extravagant.

He is dressed in linen. Loose linen shorts and a loose linen tanktop. It’s kind of sheer but that might be the point. 

Becca even does his makeup. It’s minimal though. Just some rouge on his eyes, cheeks, nose, and lips. 

And then he is being escorted out of the pack house and several miles through the woods.

Steve

Eventually night falls. And it’s time. The Avengers walk to the border between the Avengers territory and Hydra’s territory. It’s a full moon, the stars are twinkling, and the cold autumn air nips at Steve’s skin. He trimmed his hair and beard, washed in pheromone enhancing soaps, and got dressed in nothing but linen pants, thin, tied with a string, and pocketless. It’s less about attraction and more of proof he isn't smuggling any weapons. 

The Avengers lurk a couple of yards behind, staying behind trees. Multiple members of the Hydra pack come close, Brock is in front of them. No omega in sight, but often omegas remain hidden until safety is proven. No weapons. No wolves in full shift.

Brock and Steve meet in the middle.

Steve goes first. He slits his wrist with his nail, letting it drip onto the ground, right between his territory, and Brock’s. And he watches the other alpha doing the same. They will not trespass without prior warning. But it symbolises that this is a genuine pact. They’re beneath the moon’s gaze. Making a promise, a treaty, that war will end and peace will finally ensue.

Steve extends his hand, and gently, the other alpha shakes it.

The Avengers come out from behind the trees to stand behind their alpha. And then the Hydra parts. And an omega, no older than sixteen, walks towards him, crossing the line of his territory, and into Steve’s. He’s beautiful, yes. But he is oh-so young. His heart lurches because he will not turn back now. But he hadn't considered how young Rumlow had meant.

His bottom lip is trembling and his eyes are huge. Just filled with terror. 

Jesus Christ.

His scent isn't distressed but it’s likely because of the pheromone soaps. It’s like freshly brewed coffee. It’s very warm and soothing, as most omega’s are. Alphas are defenders and protectors. Omegas are nurturers and caretakers and healers.

He made a commitment and he will follow through on it. The omega will be safer with him and the Avengers than he ever could have been with his own pack.

“Hi,” he whispers, voice low. He doesn't want to scare the omega. “I’m Steve.”

The omega’s throat flexes as he swallows. “Bucky.”

He knows how this works. But he doubts the omega does. Usually the omega kneels, the alpha promises to provide for them, care for them, and cherish them. Often alphas will hold the omega’s jaw or cheek, touch their hair. Bucky’s hair is braided back with pretty flowers though, so he doesn't want to mess it up. And by the looks of it. He can't imagine he would want to be in a vulnerable position anyway.

“James, kneel,” Brock says from a few feet away. His voice is sharp, unnecessarily so. Maybe it’s Bucky’s pheromones flooding his senses, but he feels immediately protective if not possessive over the omega. In his head, a voice is echoing, ‘my omega’. Not Brock’s.

Bucky does drop to his knees though. He isn’t kneeling through. He’s just sitting on his knees. Nevertheless, tradition is tradition, it isn't a mandatory requirement. He raises his hand to silence Brock, before slowly lowering it up cup the boy’s left cheek. He’s beautiful. He admires the braids and the flowers tucked into them.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, rumbling to try and soothe him. “My luna, I will stand by your side from now until the end of the line. I will provide for you. I will care for you and the family we are to build. I will cherish you and remind you every day of how I adore you.” 

He turns to look at Natasha who steps forward to set a silver dagger in his hand.

He drops to his knees in front of Bucky and lifts his left hand. He presses the knife into his skin and slides it across, watching a streak of crimson immediately appear. The omega looks even more afraid. He understands. The poor thing looks completely unprepared.

“It will hurt for only a moment. I promise,” he whispers. The omega does not look the slightest bit convinced and he watches as he lifts both hands and cradles them against his chest. He’s trembling but he can't tell if it’s because of the cold or because he is genuinely so afraid.

Bucky swallows and shakes his head. “I don't want to.. Please don't make me.” And Steve thinks he means the entire ceremony until he adds, “Please, I really don't like pain.”

But this part is less about tradition and more about the pact. It’s a promise and a commitment they can't go back on. He’s actually afraid if he were to turn back now Hydra may do exactly as his clan has been warning him. And the omega as well may end up hurt or worse. It would be innocent blood on his hands.

He takes a breath before speaking. “I’m sorry, omega. You must.”

This was chosen for the omega. Really, it’s not fair. Steve made his decision but Bucky was just forced into it. And while he knows eventually he will appreciate his home in the Avengers pack, he has no way of understanding or believing it right now.

Tears slip down the boy’s cheeks and oh, he is so pitiful.

He wants to lean in and kiss them away, but he doesn't. He doesn't even wipe them away. He just gives Bucky time to prepare. Brock looks impatient but one sharp look is all it takes to keep him silent. He doesn't want to force anything from Bucky unless it is for his own safety.

Eventually, he does extract his right hand, shaking like a leaf.

“Do I cut?” he whispers.

Steve shakes his head. Omegas either apply too much pressure or not enough out of nerves.

He cups Bucky’s hand from the underside with his own steadily bleeding hand. “Take a deep breath, omega.” He gives him a moment to do it, and he does. “Now breathe out. And look at me, focus on me. Right now.” He uses his alpha voice, which forces him to do exactly as he’s told. And when he does, he slices his hand quickly and efficiently. 

He yelps and retracts his hand, giving Steve a look almost of betrayal.

It aches deep in his chest but he pushes it away for now. “Give me your hand,” he demands. And when Bucky does, he wraps his own bleeding hand around his. Their blood mixes together and it almost feels like gentle sparks, the adrenaline kind, rush through the palm of his hand and up his forearm. It doesn’t bother him but it makes Bucky whimper.

He holds the omega’s hand until his wound has healed. Bucky’s will take longer.

“Hey.. hey.. You did it, sweetheart.” Steve tears a piece of his pants off and ties it around Bucky’s bloody palm. And he doesn't ask before engulfing the younger wolf in a hug. “There you are.. It’s over. I know that was so scary. But you did so beautifully. I’m so proud of you, mega.” He praises him until he feels his body stop trembling.

He pulls away and lifts his head. His eyes are wet, his cheeks are tear stained, and his lips have been chewed bloody, but he is visibly more relaxed. 

“There you are,” he whispers, coming to his feet, then lifting Bucky into his arms. “Sam?” he calls, and the gamma is quickly at his side, wrapping a black nesting blanket around the omega. 

The walk back to the pack house is tense. But when they’re halfway home, Bucky falls asleep on him, and it feels like everything is how it is supposed to be,

Chapter Text

Steve

Bucky remains asleep in Steve’s arms the entire -several mile- walk back to the pack house. His gangly limbs are hanging and completely limp. When he tries lifting his arms to rest them on his shoulders, it just drops back to his side. He’s not a puppy, but he is young. All pups present relatively young based on bodily anatomy. But alphas don't get ruts until they're teenagers and neither do omegas. Usually around that time they will also be assigned a role within a pack. Hunters, gatherers, engineers, educators, gammas, deltas and so on and so forth.

They don’t have to mate right away. There are several weeks the blood bond will last, but before it ends to prevent either pack from getting in trouble it will eventually need to happen.

When they get back to their pack house, which is a large stone, castle-like, home in the clearing of the woods that has belonged to the Avengers pack since they first formed and built it. There are enough bedrooms for all the residents and families, and enough land surrounding that the pups can play and run but remain within view. There are garages, primarily used for industrial work. And a pool and also nearby lakes. It is a beautiful home. It is one he hopes his omega finds solace in.

He carries him to the Luna’s Quarters which have been empty for quite some time. They’re separate from the Alpha’s quarters. The omega would traditionally stay in their alpha’s quarters, but they’re entitled to their own privacy. Bucky deserves it now especially after the stressful evening.

There’s about nineteen bedrooms outside of other activity, meeting, medical, and industrial rooms.

Not everyone in the Avengers pack lives in New York, but the ones that do live in the pack house. There are multiple floors, omegas being on the lowest floor for warmth if they’re unmated, betas in the middle, and alphas on the top floor. On the top floor resides Steve, Sam, Peggy, Carol, and Rhodes. On the middle floor resides Clint, Natasha, Maria, and Darcy Lewis. On the omega floor resides Peter, Wanda, Bruce, Tony, Harley, Morgan and Yelena- and now also Bucky.

Steve, Sam, Peggy, Carol, and Rhodes all work closely together. Managing trading, major events, treaties, and until recently the constant war between the Avengers and Hydra.

Clint is a hunter and an archer. Natasha is an enforcer. She has a history of forced assination before being taken in as a part of their pack and she now does her best work eliminating people who have harmed or threatened to harm people in their pack or even neighbouring packs and packs they have formed treaties with. Maria and Darcy both work tech. Bruce is a scientist and he is the most skilled with medicine. Tony primarily does industrial work. Wanda is not a wolf but an omega witch, and a dear friend of the Avengers especially after her twin brother’s sacrifice in 2014. Some of the pack members are already mated.

Peggy and Natasha have been mated for years. Tony and Rhodes are mated and have been for years, and Rhodes became the adoptive father to both Harley and Peter. Maria and Carol have been together since they were in the airforce. And Wanda and Darcy have been in a courting stage for several months.

Peter, Harley and Yelena are pups. Morgan is five, Harley is 14, Peter is 12 and Yelena is 15. 

It does not go unknown to him how Bucky is just one year older than Lena.

Nevertheless, he lays Bucky down in bed and tucks him in. He leaves a note explaining where he is and that he is welcome to explore and look around, as this is his home from now on.

He shuts the door softly and looks at his closest friends who are waiting behind him. Natasha, Sam and Peggy. They look relieved that everyone went as it was supposed to. Nobody was injured or threatened and the treaty is almost completely sealed. They will either have peace and Hydra will stay in their lane or Hydra in it’s entirety will be disposed of.

They aren't foolish enough to do that.

“You have a luna,” Sam says on an exhale, trailing into a dry chuckle. “Never would have thought it would be a Hydra wolf- much less one that young.”

He smiles sheepishly and nods. He is very young. Maybe it’s the blood bond, or maybe he just has possessive instincts as an alpha anyway, but he finds himself struggling to genuinely care. The omega, his omega, is safer here than he was with Hydra. If he’s safe he’ll be happy. He can thrive and they can have a family- he will have much more than he ever could have if he was mated to an alpha in Hydra.

“Are you happy?” Natasha asks, a genuine smile flashing across her face.

Something like that. “A bit nervous. I want to do right by him.”

Bucky

Bucky wakes up in a comfortable and luxurious bed. He's wrapped in a nesting blanket still but on top of him is a quilt and what he thinks is a bear-fur blanket. On the end of the wooden bed frame there are more blankets. Omegas were lower ranking in Hydra so their level of comfort and amenities was much lower than betas or alphas. Especially if they didn’t do something of genuine value.

On the bedside table is a note telling him where he is and what he’s allowed to do. He’s in the Luna’s chambers. And while that makes sense, because he’s in the process of mating with the alpha of the Avengers wolf pack, he still wasn't expecting it right away. Not before the actual mating. Not that he’s complaining… this is the most comfortable he’s been in a long time.

He slips out of bed and looks down at his wrinkled clothes. They weren't removed. And the piece of linen is still wrapped around his sore hand from where he was cut last night. He remembers what Rebecca said. The Avengers are known for being a good and fair community. They won't hurt him.

He pads around the room. There's a fireplace. A bay window. A vanity. A dresser. A large fancy closet. The walls are stone. The furniture is wood. The accents are gold. It’s a beautiful room. He’s used to nothing. But this is more than even the average wolf isn't it? It’s purely extravagant.

And he’s a bit nosy… he opens the closet and looks inside. To his surprise it isn't empty. There’s actually mostly blankets in it. Blankets and pillows. But also a very interesting dress. It’s blue and gold and celestial. There’s layers of silk and then mesh. He thinks nothing of it, assumes the closet is used as extra storage space, and makes his way out of the bedroom.

He walks down a long hallway into a large living room. There's another fireplace. Lots of furniture. Paintings on the walls. A grand piano. Huge windows that are currently open and letting the cool autumn breeze drift into the house. He assumes a lot of people live here. He saw a lot of people last night but he was a little too distracted to pay attention to them.

The house is quiet. The grandfather clock on the wall reads 7:24. 

He just tiptoes around. The note said he was allowed to explore -because this is his home now- so he is. He’s respectful and he doesn't move anything or rough hand any furniture or paintings or decorations. He sees a lot of nesting blankets strewn about the couch. Some stuffed toys on the floor. It’s a warmer environment than Hydra. It looks lived in. More like a family than a forced job. 

Suddenly. “Oh shit you're the Luna!” It actually scares Bucky so bad he spins, whines and falls backwards on his ass. “Sorry! Sorry.. Sorry.” It’s a boy, a few years younger than him, maybe. He smells like an omega, soft and sweet, kind of like honey and sunflowers. He’s short, dark hair and freckles, and wearing spider pyjamas. He's looking at Bucky guiltily. He’s not afraid of him now, especially considering he’s a puppy and an omega.

But, “Jesus Christ.” Bucky stumbles to his feet and comes closer to the boy, he’s a bit taller than him. He referred to him as Luna. It will take some getting used to. The title is Alien to him. Hydra hasn’t had a Luna in- well. They haven't had a Luna in a long time.

If ever. 

“Sorry… I’m Peter.”

Bucky offers him a small smile. “Hi Peter.. I’m Bucky- please don’t call me Luna. Just call me Bucky. Last week I was still considered a pup so.. This is all quite new.”

The puppy smiles and nods. “You’re chill. Not to be like- rude. But we did know you were gonna be Hydra. Gotta wonder. My mama said that you might poison Steve in his sleep.” And Bucky doesn’t know if he’s being serious. And if he is being serious how does he respond to that? Does he laugh or cry? “Forget I said anything.. It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

“Thanks.. It’s nice to meet you too, Peter.”

It’s calm for a moment. Then three other pups come barrelling down the hallway. A blonde girl who looks closer to his age, with a little brunette girl on her back, and another boy who actually looks a bit like Peter, but maybe closer to his age as well.

And behind them, a grown omega. One Bucky knows about because he’s a fucking genius around all wolf packs, tribes, and clans. Tony Stark.

“Are they bothering you?” Tony asks, rubbing his temple. And they aren't so he shakes his head. “Peter.. Why why why do you get up so early. You are my son, you should be sleeping until at least noon.”

Peter fusses about it, dragging his feet. “But, Mama. I wanted to meet Lu- Bucky.”

Bucky smiles and watches the interaction. It’s wholesome. It’s how a family communicates with one another. The pups in his house are mostly orphaned. Hydra is objectively bad. They either get killed on their own land or they get killed after doing bad deeds. Bucky knows most enforcers from neighbouring packs. Shield, Asgard, Thunderbolts, Wakanda, and unfortunately a lot more than that. 

The older alphas and the alpha of the pack typically parent the pups of his pack since they’re orphaned- and even if they aren't. They have control issues. It results mostly in violence. Bucky has genuine scars from the few lashings he received from Pierce. 

It was normal pup behaviour he thought.

Making messes. Being loud. Being disruptive.

Tony flops on the couch with his hyper active pups, hushing them and forcing them to settle down via nuzzling and cuddles. And what is more interesting if not confusing to him is that some of those pups are alphas. Wolves have tender noses, they can tell with one wif. And the older pup that looks like Peter and the blonde girl are alphas. The youngest is a beta.

But they’re all being cuddled by their mama.

It’s not that Bucky carries a prejudice and thinks alphas should be raised on violence and and a lack of motherly or omega comfort, it’s just an unrecognisable tenderness Hydra has never shown.

Soon enough the whole pack house is bustling. That includes his new alpha who comes downstairs in grey sweatpants tied low on his hips. It’s light in the house so Bucky can take him in completely. He is handsome. Not even just handsome. He is fucking sexy. His hips are doing that thing! That v thing! Alphas are naturally strong, sure, but he works out. Brock? He’s strong and he's built from fighting. But not in a Calvin Cline underwear model way.

Steve smiles at him, ever so charming.

Bucky doesn't smile, he's nervous. He can feel his body beginning to shake.

The realization again settles over him. He is to be mated to this alpha. He is kind, he knows this. Not only that, but he is forty. Is it fair for him to be concerned about what he wants? Pups is what he’s most concerned about. He thinks puppies are adorable. But he doesn't know that he wants them yet. If for nothing but not wanting to experience the pain of childbirth. 

The alpha, of course, seems to catch on to Bucky’s discomfort. He thinks the bloodbond allows them to share some kind of feelings. If he gets hurt, Steve gets hurt. If he’s stressed out, Steve would feel it. He’s not entirely educated on this though.

“Are you alright, Bucky?” He comes closer, shielding their conversation from the rest of the pack as they run about, getting ready for their day. “Hey.. talk to me, mega.”

He swallows the lump in his throat. He reminds himself yet again. The Avengers are good and fair. He’ll never be harmed for no reason. And he can't imagine a good and fair alpha forcing him into babies- though if he stalls mating for too long it would be a different story. He doesn't dwell on the latter.

“Just a new environment,” he lies.

“I understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don't be.”

Bucky nods, wringing his hands together. “What do you guys do all day?” He looks at Tony who’s asleep with his pups on the couch. In Hydra there’s plotting, fighting, hiding, fussing, sometimes he gets worksheets and books from Becca to practice his education. But really if you don't have a job within the pack you stay out of the way. And if you do have a job within the pack, it’s not a fun job.

Steve smiles and chuckles. “I promise we don't lay around all day.” It wasn't what he meant, but he does smile anyway. “It depends on the day. Everyone has a different job. Everyone takes breaks on different days. “Personally I do a lot of communicating with other tribes, maintaining relations. I train some of the other alphas and betas. I do lumber work and sometimes I help Tony in the garage- if he lets me anywhere near his babies.”

“His babies?”

“Industrial work. Machines and robots and cars.”

That makes Bucky giggle.

He wonders as well. “What would my job within the pack be? As Luna.”

Steve clears his throat, looking more uncomfortable. “We can discuss this in time. Bucky, I want you to know you aren't forced to do anything in this pack if you don't want to. And if you do want to, it won't be right away. I know it’s- probably entirely new to you.”

It is. But the way he phrases it makes him more curious.

“Lunas typically do not do the same manual work as alphas. Your responsibilities would range from simple things, watching over bonded omegas and pups when their alphas are travelling, to helping gather and prepare herbs, communicating with omegas from neighbouring packs which is a part of maintaining -most- treaties. Counseling and listening to grievances, keeping the peace within the pack.” It sounds easy enough, if he was raised watching and learning about that kind of dynamic.

“Babystting, picking flowers and counselling grumpy alphas?” And OH, he didn't mean to brat. He wasn't even upset. It comes out snappy and he knows that isn't what Steve meant.

The corner of the older man’s lips twitch, but he doesn't say anything about it. He just continues as normal. “If you see something you would prefer doing you would just ask an experienced member to show you the reins.”

“Would I communicate with Hydra?”

His answer comes fast. “No.” 

He doesn't bring up his sister.

“Can I change into something else, please?”

His face softens then. “Oh of course. Yeah, I’ll find you something. What do you like wearing?”

“My clothes were hand-me-downs in Hydra. I have no preference. But I’m cold, so.. Something more modest, and a bit warmer would be appreciated.” His hair is still braided but the flowers have since fallen out, probably somewhere in the woods. He's distantly aware Steve walked to the pack house with him in his arms, asleep, for miles and miles from the border.

Within a few minutes he’s given some leggings, undergarments, and a grandpa-looking wool sweater. It’s all comfortable though. He doesn't know who they belong to, but they’re clean, comfortable, and they smell nice so it doesn’t matter. He assumes he can get some of his own clothes later.

Steve

While Bucky is in the kitchen listening to Tony ramble while eating pancakes and eggs, Steve retreats to his office to talk privately with Sam about next steps. “So. Where do I go from here? We have what two or three weeks before we have to be mated?” He tugs on his hair, thinking through his options. Bucky knows nothing. He needs to get these things done in a timely fashion. Including the ceremony where he officially becomes Luna. 

“Don't panic, first of all,” Sam says. He’s not panicking. He's just nervous. But he doesn’t argue. “Explain it to him clearly. Differentiate between when he will have to do, and what is optional and his choice. You should mate him before the end of two weeks. After the bonding sickness fades a week later we can get on with the ceremony. From there things are his choice.”

But he won't like that. He wanted to have this all laid out with it being completely Bucky’s choice. The unfortunate truth is he can’t. It isn’t even his, either. He made a deal before he learned of how young his soon to be Luna is. 

“What if Bucky says no?”

“Drug him.”

“SAM!”

“Geez, I didn’t mean it that way. Manipulate your pheromones. Calm him down. Give him something for pain. You don't have to do anything romantic. You could take him out into the middle of the woods and bite him.” Because that doesn't sound like the start to most axe murder stories. 

He leans back in his chair, looking out the open window. “What if he doesn't trust me.”

“Then he lives here like a roommate.”

“Sam.”

‘Truth is he wants a mate. He wants a wife, not just an omega. He wants puppies and a mother for his children. A marriage of alliance can turn into a beautiful thing. If he does have to do any coercion or manipulation, for treaty’s sake, he’s afraid that will ruin the opportunity before they have a chance to build it.

Sam leans against the wall across from him. “I know it’s different when you don’t know. But when you mate with Bucky his biology will change. He will want things he didn't want before. If anything, it’ll be up to you to make decisions for his safety when he’s got brain fog and all of his instincts are telling him he wants a knot and puppies immediately.”

Sam has worked as a therapist after the airforce. He would know more than Steve.

“He’s really young.”

“He’s old enough.”

“He’s reached maturity.”

“I’m trying to comfort you, here.”

They sit in silence for a few moments. “I’d like to take him out,” he finally speaks up again. “He should have his own clothes. Whatever blankets and toiletries that he wants. I want him to feel like he belongs. Because he does.” He bites the inside of his cheek. They might need a lookout. He isn't entirely convinced Hydra made a full 180. 

“But you feel unsafe?” Sam asks, because he’s known him long enough to just know what he’s thinking. 

He nods.

“I mean what if he walks into a changing room and someone’s lurking?” It’s an excessive fear at best. Hydra couldn't be that foolish. But now that he really considers it, there are loopholes. They could get into communication with another pack. And if they can't prove anything the DPA can't get involved.

The other alpha seems to actually consider it though. “Take Natasha. She’ll eat a bitch.”

It’s an obscene way of phrasing it, but it’s true. 

When he goes back downstairs he’s met with a wholesome sight. An animated Halloween movie is playing on the television, and on the couch Bucky and Peter are completely intertwined and purring. Harley is draped over Bucky’s thigh and Morgan is squished somewhere between them in the same black nesting blanket given to his omega last night.

He’s warming up well.

He is their Luna. It’s instinctual that the pups specifically are clinging to him. And it’s as equally warming as it is relieving that the omega himself is comfortable enough in that position to purr.

It’s such a sweet sound. Worth more than the world’s weight in gold.

He doesn't want to interrupt them for shopping, so he goes to the kitchen instead and fixes a cup of tea.

Bucky

Bucky likes this so much. A cuddle pile?? He’s never been included in one of these. His nose is pressed against Peter’s and they’re purring in each other’s faces but it’s oddly soothing? They’re watching some cartoon Chipmunk Halloween movie- weird but entertaining.

“Friends?” Peter whispers after many long moments of just purring.

Bucky smiles and nods. “Friends.”

Chapter Text

Steve

The morning is peaceful. Around noon the puppies -and Bucky- finally tear themselves away from cuddles, couch nests, and animated Halloween movies. Morgan is carried off by Tony for a proper nap and Bucky comes to his feet, lifting his arms above his head, and stretching out. He lets out a little chirp adjacent to a quick, high pitched purr. Steve is in love.

Once he is standing in a more relaxed position Steve approaches him. “‘You fall asleep?” he asks, voice soft and slow. The omega nods, cheeks rosy. “It’s alright to say no, but I want to take you out. Maybe to the city? There’s a really big mall, lots of stores. I thought you'd like some personal items and clothes that belong to you.”

If he isn't mistaken, the face the sweet boy makes is that of someone who is about to cry. He doesn't cry, he just nods. But he looks utterly pitiful until Steve tells him he’ll get the car ready.

And the car ride itself is quiet. It’s two hours from Catskill to NYC but when asked if it was too long, the omega shook his head no. He tries to read Bucky. He scents him out while driving, keeping his eyes on the road. He smells happy if not a little sleepy. The coffee scent is strong, though now hints of dark chocolate are also slipping through.

He isn’t unhappy. He hasn't necessarily been shy before now. 

He speaks up an hour into the drive. “How do you feel? I know you’ve only been with us a short time. But if you need anything don’t hesitate to speak up. Okay, mega?” Bucky hums quietly and nods. “What's going on with you? You bein’ shy or are you just sleepy?”

That elicits a change in him. His posture straightens and he clears his throat. “It’s just different, Steve. It’s a lot to get used to.” He takes a deep breath. “Your pack is so kind. The pups actually have parents, parents that love them at that. I haven't been hit on by any of the alphas. I haven't felt unsafe, been threatened- I ate homemade pancakes this morning. Judge me if you want. It feels as though I’ve stepped into a different world. And to be completely honest. I’m afraid I’ll lose this. Because I lose all good things.”

His words take a while to really sink in. The poor thing. It’s easy to assume what went on in the Hydra pack house. He doesn't know what trauma the omega has been subjected to, and really, he doesn't want to know right now. He can't do anything to Hydra anymore. If Bucky was harmed in some way, his omega, if his omega was harmed in some way, he would shred someone.

“I’m sorry.” What else can he say?

“Can I turn on the radio?”

“Go ahead.”

The rest of the drive is filled with hits of the 90s and 2000s, and more silence from the omega. He still doesn't smell distressed. Steve can hear his heart beating and it is both slow and steady. 

In the final ten minutes Bucky blurts, “Will you die before me?”

He almost chokes on his spit. “Lovely way to start a conversation, Bucky.” It’s sarcastic but not unkind. Really it is blunt but valid he supposes. “Not necessarily. I’m an apex alpha- my lifespan will be longer than the average alpha or wolf in general.” With a 24 year age gap, it is a valid question. But unless he’s mortally wounded he could live well into his mid hundreds. Meaning Bucky is more likely to die before him, but it’s too morbid for him to actually say.

“Does my age make you uncomfortable?”

“Not necessarily.” He’s of age. The current blood bond does help.

“So you make it a habit fucking teenagers?”

What the actual fuck?

Steve pulls into the parking garage sharply. “James, do not go there.”

“Valid question, if you ask me. You know I was considered a pup a week ago? They tell you I was sixteen and you decided to agree anyway? There’s older omegas. They just didn't like me. Got in the way. You know. Because I was considered a pup a week ago.” He’s not wrong to ask and be curious. But it’s the way he’s asking. His tone is bratty, his eyes are narrowed, his fangs are flashing- he’s aware of what he’s doing. He’s overwhelmed and he’s being a brat about it.

“Bucky.”

“You could just be a freak- we listen and we don't judge, right?”

“BUCKY!”

“What? You’re gonna bite my neck in a couple weeks FOREVER bonding me to you. Dream come true? What happens when I turn 20? Do I get dumped in a river somewhere while you move onto the next-

“JAMES THAT IS ENOUGH!” He growls. 

Bucky freezes, finally stopping.

He understands. He’s overwhelmed. And bratting is what every omega does when they’re overstimulated. And yes. Judging by Bucky’s age, he’s probably pupset. What he refuses to allow though is the omega claiming vile things he knows nothing about and has no reason to believe.

He takes a breath before speaking again. He’s just an overwhelmed sixteen year old.

“Do we need to go home?” His voice is lower than usual, because he's trying to remain level and calm.

Bucky looks out the window, legs pulled up to up to his chest, arms crossed. And now he smells distressed. The fresh coffee scent is becoming stronger, almost burnt and kind of smokey. 

“Answer me.”

No response.

He takes a moment to think this through. Bucky is overstimulated and trying to deal with it in the wrong ways. He probably scared him when he growled like that. If he gets upset at him again, who knows what the boy will do. He could take off running.

“Bucky?”

“What?” 

“Do we need to go home?”

No response.

“Bucky.”

No response.

For fucks sake, he’s pushing his buttons.

“Look at me right now or I’ll make the decision for you.” And finally he looks over at him. “I know you’re overwhelmed. I know you’re scared. You don’t have any reason to suggest heinous things, do you understand me? I will never harm you. I would never murder you. And to answer your earlier question, anyone I have been romantically or physically involved with has been my age. I didn’t know anything about you before last night.”

Bucky looks pissed. But he nods.

“Now. Do we need to go home?”

He shakes his head no.

“Then let’s go.”

He hopes that stretching his legs and getting some air will soothe Bucky.

Oh but does it? No. 

He’s cranky as they walk through the mall. He hisses at Steve if he even opens his mouth to speak. Eventually it’s too much and he pulls him around a corner, away from the crowded mall. “Sit,” he says, having Bucky plant his ass on a bench against the wall. “Are you upset because I growled?”

No response.

“Bucky, you need to answer me.”

No response.

He grabs his face, not hard enough to hurt him. But he tits his head back so they’re making eye contact. “Answer me. Please, sweetheart.”

Finally he nods. 

Of course. He was overwhelmed before. He doesn't know if he’s angry or scared. 

So Steve kneels and takes both of Bucky’s hands in his. “It’s been a really stressful two days, hasn't it? You didn’t have a say in the matter and within a matter of hours you were promised to an alpha you don't know in charge of a rival pack, and bloodbonded. And I scared you didn't I? I’m sorry.” He’s sincere. Bucky took it a step too far. But arguably, so did he. He wants the omega to trust him. And he's probably more tender than most omega’s because of trauma.

It takes a few minutes but Bucky pipes up eventually. “I’m sorry I said those things.”

It does settle warm in Steve’s chest. He nods slowly. “It’s okay. You’re forgiven, sweetheart.”

Bucky

Bucky doesn’t know why he snapped at Steve that way. He’s a little uneasy and a little anxious. He’s actually never been in the city. He is sixteen and he has never in his life been out of Hydra territory, he knows it’s pathetic. His mind is whirling every time there is silence. Every time he begins enjoying himself he's reminded of his reason for being here.

He basically accused Steve of being a paedophile and a rapist who murders teenagers when he’s through with them. Not only is it fucked up, but he didn't mean it. It’s like the words were coming out before he got a chance to finish thinking through them. It was a defence mechanism, maybe, but it was probably hurtful.

He thought Steve was going to hit him so he stopped responding. Genuinely, he thought he would make it worse if he opened his bratty mouth a second time.

They don't talk about it again after Steve apologises for scaring him, and forgives Bucky for his accusations.

The mall is packed. But it doesn't make him as uncomfortable as he thought that it would. If anything he just really likes being surrounded by so many people who are not Hydra. NYC is a bright and bustling city and it’s more like a Hallmark movie in his sheltered opinion.

Steve takes him into a clothing store and gestures for him to pick some stuff out. To which he looks at Steve like ‘huh?’ because what now? He’s got no idea what half of it is, for starters. Doesn't know his clothing size. Doesn't know what clothes are acceptable for him to wear- omegas do have gender roles. They just didn't have enough to go around for Hydra to give a shit about ‘gender roles’ and the clothes assigned to them.

“Just pick out what feels comfortable and then try it on,” Steve explains. “It’s simple, sweetheart. You don't have to overthink it.”

He is also going to be Luna. Does that account for anything? He’s almost too shy to ask, fearing it will sound conceded.

“Do I have to wear a dress?”

“Honey, you wear whatever you want.”

So he walks around curiously. He touches sweaters and presses them against his cheek, testing the softness to see how it would feel being rubbed against his skin. It’s already getting cold outside and winter is coming, and omega’s are not exactly built to withstand the cold, so he is trying to teeter towards warm clothes.

Steve doesn't say anything, just follows him around with a little basket that is quickly filled with clothes. 

He’s afraid Steve’s silence is because of what he said earlier. And he isn’t too proud to bring it up again. But he's afraid to. 

He gets jeans and joggers and some henleys and undershirts and when he’s finished piling things in the cart he looks at Steve like a lost puppy because what now? Is the alpha buying all of this for him? He didn't look at the price tags after picking up a forty dollar sweater.

“Do you wanna try stuff on?”

Bucky looks at the dressing rooms then shakes his head.

“I think you should,” Steve says, looking hesitant about it. “If something is too big or too small I’d rather you know now. You should be comfortable.”

But he doesn't want to change in a stuffy little room. What if someone walks in on him? “What if someone walks in on me?”

“I’ll stand in front of the door. You’ll be alright.”

Truth be told, some of the jeans were too tight and others were too big. What he refuses to understand is how different pairs of pants were different sizes and still fit him. In what world is he a size 2 and a size 6 in the same store? 

The next stop makes Bucky uncomfortable. He doesn't have any interest in looking at underwear. He does need them, yes. But some of these are like- fancy. They’re all pretty but in a way he knows is meant for an alpha’s gaze not an omega’s.

“I don't like it in here,” Bucky whispers, actually trying to get behind the alpha to like ‘avert his gaze’ or something. The store is like- omega-ey? It’s like if My Melody and Victoria’s secret and a SEX STORE came together to make whatever the fuck kind of business deal this is. Yeah yeah, omegas have certain requirements because of their biology. But he’s never so much as left Hydra territory. This is a lot more than he's used to seeing on google or in other omega’s bedrooms.

Steve puts an arm around Bucky’s back and pulls him into a side hug. “I can wait outside if you would rather.”

No, that’s worse he doesn't want to be alone. “No- don't leave alone..”

He awkwardly makes his way further into the store. The underwear is breathable- and there are sections dedicated to male omegas. He can't wear alpha’s underwear because they have a weird net inside them and the fabric irritates his cocklet- he learned that one the hard way.

Not everything is lingerie-esque, but he guesses they can't promote boring shit to drag people into the store.

He gets some briefs in a few different colours and patterns and then casually sifts through the pretty things because he’s actually never been able to wear pretty things before. He’s getting mated soon anyway he might as well feel sexy while doing it. Do they need to fuck to be mated? He sees that in pornos  movies.

He watches the blond just turn away and pretend to be invested in a teddy bear wearing a tiara. He’s like an awkward dad.

But he takes the opportunity to continue sifting through the pretty lacy things. Honestly, his brat side kind of wants to giggle at the alpha’s discomfort. He’s HIS omega! Eventually he’ll see him wearing the fancy little things if not just naked.

Steve turns when Bucky giggles. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“You’re just acting shy, it’s funny.”

“Why would it be funny?”

“Because I'm YOUR omega. It’s not like this is the most intimate thing you’ll see of me.”

It makes the alpha’s cheeks LIGHT up and Bucky just grins ear to ear. He’s having fun, okay? He's getting mated and married to a grown apex alpha he deserves to have a little bit of bratty fun.

“Just saying..” Bucky trails off.

Steve clears his throat before saying, “If that’s how you wanna be then. But you aren't looking at the right stuff.” Bucky’s about to brat because he’s questioning his taste? “Those are for female omegas. It’ll be uncomfortable on you- they make the same stuff for male alphas. Just some extra fabric to accommodate for your anatomy.”

Nevermind he’s done bratting. He feels his own cheeks light up at how casually he says it.

He’s led over to a different section which is made for male omegas. This section also includes tops made for his anatomy. No cups or anything because his chest is flat. They’re cute, it’s like if a Disney princess became a midnight ballerina. He’s allowed to wear whatever he wants now because he's an adult. Steve hasn't done anything that alpha-ey either.

By that he means he hasn't told him what to do outside of uh.. Handling the puppy tantrum earlier..

“Can I?” he asks, picking up a lace set.

“Uhm.. yeah.. Have at it. Just try the bottoms on top of your underwear.”

He nods, picking a few different things before running off into the dressing room. They're so delicate he’s afraid he’ll tear them. But he feels kind of giddy and excited. He’s never had his own clothes period, much less cutesy and sexy things. He doesn't even have to wear them for Steve. He would actually be content going to sleep in them just cause.

The first set is white, and lacy and ties in the front, the bottoms would leave little to the imagination as he pulls them up over the boy-shorts that he thinks came from Natasha. It’s cute, and soft, and dainty and he does kind of feel like a princess. And he is kind of relishing in how it is to feel pretty for a moment.

The next two sets are difficult to get on because they have buckles and straps he can't exactly reach. And he gets the first one on because it’s just a few buttons in the pack. It’s equally pretty, kind of indigo coloured, silky with ribbons, but less sexy.

The third one though he weighs his options. Steve’s his alpha. He can ask his alpha for help buckling a bra. It’s not like he has breasts. And he’s wearing shorts. It’s still an intimate act though, he reminds himself. But again. Steve is HIS alpha. They're going to be mates anyway.

He pokes his head out the dressing room, Steve is pacing back and forth, cheeks rosy. “Help?” he asks sweetly, giving the older wolf puppy eyes. He looks a little flabbergasted that he’s asking for help, but he receives a nod and steps back so Steve can help him with the black set.

“Uh.. help with what exactly?”

“My arms aren't flexible enough to get all the buttons in the back.”

He holds up the bralette.

Steve clears his throat and looks past Bucky when he nods. 

He spares a glance down at his crotch- just to see- and he isn’t hard. He doesn't know why it’s disappointing either.

He turns around and begins putting his arms through the loops but he stops when two things happen at once. Steve gasps. And his scent spikes and becomes so distraught Bucky has immediate tears pricking at his eyes.

Bloodbond. 

His alpha is either severely distressed or really pissed off. He doesn't have enough time to question how or why either. Not when his alpha’s distress is making him distressed

Fucking bloodbond.

He turns around and looks up at Steve, searching his face. He's not sad. He's stone faces but in a way that is scary. In the way alphas are when they’re about to kill something- be it hunting, fighting, or retaliation. Steve looks murderous.

“I- what even- Alpha?”

Because what the fuck else is he supposed to say?

“Who did that?”

“What the fuck is happening? What are you talking about?” Bucky backs away from him, reaching for his shirt only to have his wrist grabbed instead. “HEY!”

“Answer the question, omega. Who did that to your back?” 

And ohh. Shit.

Well, yeah. That's what happens to pups in Hydra. You misbehave, you get in trouble. He got in trouble multiple times over the last decade. Of course he has scars. His alpha is still scenting distress- which makes his mind less clear. But he can't imagine it upsetting him that much.

“Bucky?” Steve asks, voice sharp and direct.

“It’s my fault.”

“That wasn't the question.” A beat. “I haven't seen that many scars on alphas who have been to war, Bucky. So tell me. Who did that to you?”

“Natasha already ate him.”

He’s being dramatic. Everyone gets their own at some point. He was pretty awful from ages 6-10 considering the loss of his mama. He was reckless and stumbled into different territories, he tried running away from home a few times, the first time he shifted he busted a wall- honestly he’s done a lot.

Hydra’s implement of choice was always sticks, really thin ones though, that cut the skin. He got used to it after a while.

He looks at his own back in the reflection of the mirror.

He’s being dramatic, it isn't that bad… Meanwhile from the top of his spine to his hips there are raised scars, some overlapping one another because he was getting beat every other day for a good four years. But- still. Steve is being dramatic.

But a few memories do ring out in his mind to counter that thought. Having to lay on his stomach while Becca cleaned the wounds and wrapped them. It almost felt like he wasn't being hit at all. It was like being sliced. If pups ran, it was worse. If they cried, it was worse. If they begged, the number went up. It’s why he was so taken aback, and not in a bad way necessarily, watching Tony actually parent his pups. And he loved on them. 

He turns his head back to look at Steve because he doesn’t want to look at them. When they're being drawn attention to, like right now, he wants to cry. Because it makes him feel ugly. He got them for a reason. He was bad so he was punished. But they’re not pretty. They’re raised, discoloured, permanent scars.

“The former alpha did that to you?”

“He did it to all pups when they’re out of line. Rarely alphas if they’re grown but sometimes to omegas.”

“Bucky..”

“Please don't, Steve.”

He gets dressed and they walk out silently. Steve pays for the undergarments and they walk out in a painful kind of quiet. There's a lot more to be said. Even though the alpha’s distressed scent has gone away, he knows he’s upset. He has a sad expression on his face. Like it’s his fault Bucky’s got scars.

“It happens to everyone,” he whispers again. “At least once. I was a difficult pup.”

“All pups are difficult.”

“You know what I mean.”

“But I don't.” He slips his hand into Bucky's. “Sometimes corporal punishment is effective. Sometimes. Especially if it’s a pupset omega. But not- never that way. It shouldn't even bruise much less scar. It’s important to me that you know that.”

He does sort of know that.. Somewhere beneath the repressed memories.

“It’s been a while since the last time,” he whispers, like it would provide any comfort anyway.

“There shouldn't have been a time.”

Steve

What was Steve supposed to do? Ignore it? The feelings that lit up inside him when he saw those scars is unexplainable. No word is detailed enough. It looks as though someone took a razor blade to his omega’s back and went at it. 

They’re covering his back. They’re multicoloured so some of them are at most a year old whereas others were probably done before Bucky could even understand the concept of discipline.

They’re gnarly. 

Bucky must understand. He was the one who received that treatment.

He would have been hit repeatedly in the same spots to scar that way.

He wants to take this omega and just shield him from the world.

Bucky walks beside him in silence for a while, swinging their hands. And eventually, like a puppy, he pipes up. “Stevie, can we go to build a bear? I've never seen one in person.”