#extra angst ITS SO INTERESTING compared to how he genuinely was always so talkative before. and he's still so confident.

[modern-vellichor]

In Her Blood; Four

Summary: The camping trip opens old wounds for everyone.

Pairing: DadsBestFriend!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: murder(not really but its insinuated), mentions of suicide, angst!!!, age gap relationship, mentions of ptsd, uncomfortable family situation, bad father figure, smut, blood play if u squint

Masterlist ||

The next morning you pack the cars. Bucky throws his case in the trunk of your car.

"you riding with me?", you ask.

"yeah, Sarah wants to drive with your parents. Didn't wanna leave ya alone", he shoots a tight lipped smile in your direction.

A look of disappointment flickers on your face, but its soon replaced by a playful and childlike grin.

"okay", you giggle.

You hop in the drivers seat, Bucky buckling himself in next to you. You pull out after Sarah and your parents, following them the whole way there.

Early 2000s punk plays through the stereo. You bang your head lightly, mouthing the words to old Blink 182. Bucky chuckles softly to himself at the sight.

After an hour you pull into a garage. You leave Bucky in the car and meet Sarah at the door to the shop, you take her hand playfully and rest your head on her shoulder while you walk in. Bucky smiles.

You come back with two cokes and a bag of different snacks. You slide in next to him with a smile and a chuckle. You launch a sandwich and the coke at him, he laughs.

The rest of the drive is silent. Only another hour or so.

You arrive at the site by noon, a small enough cabin and a beautiful lake, the dark woods framing most of it.

You take your sisters hand, leading her to the room you're sharing. Your laughs echo through old, damp wood.

Sam and Steve take the master, Bucky is left with the small guest room at the end of the hallway.

The group recollects just as the sun is going down, the sky painted bright pink and orange, a gloomy forest casting haunting shadows on the site.

The fire crackles quietly while you eat. Sam tells childhood stories, the rest of you laugh and nod along. Bucky cant help but let his gaze wander to you.

Then you're pulling off your top and running towards the lake, Sarah close behind you. You're laughing as you dive gracefully into the dark water, barely making a splash. When you resurface, your head breaks in the centre of the lake. Bucky laughs, so do your parents.

You and Sarah play for a while, swimming and diving and bringing up rocks and little shiny things you find.

The first night is peaceful. Morning arrives and Steve, Sam, and Sarah go for a hike. You stay at the cabin, you sketch the rustic view from your window.

The next evening, you all sit around the fire. You drink and you laugh, you shoot Bucky soft looks all night. Its homely and peaceful. Then you pull the box of cigarettes from your pocket, you let the flames lick it alight and retreat to the edge of the lake. You're out of the way, but Steve still sighs.

"are you kidding?", he snaps at you. "now?"

"Steve", Sam mumbles, trying to calm him down. "she's all the way over there, leave her". Its to no avail.

"those things kill you, you know", he barks.

"just like you", you murmur under your breath, he cant make out what you're saying. You make yourself small, nursing your cigarette.

"what did you say?", Sarah and Sam both start trying to calm Steve, you stay silent. "answer me, Y/N!"

"stop, you're scaring Sarah", you mumble, Bucky stands up and begins to approach, ready to jump in if needed.

"This isn't about Sarah", he's shouting now. You snap then.

"It's always been about Sarah", you crush the cigarette under the toe of your boot. "I never minded when daddy got angry, but Sarah always cried when he shouted"

"stop it!"

"Remember when you broke that plate, Sarah thought daddy got the gun from the loose floorboard and shot her sister dead. Sarah who thought daddy was gonna kick Y/N out, Sarah who thought she was gonna find Y/N dead on the bathroom floor", you shout with a sick smile, you advance on him as Steve stumbles back. He throws empty threats at you, but you don't listen.

Sarah begins to cry and Sam has to carry her inside, he closes the door behind her and runs back to Steve. He pulls Steve away by the bicep and you turn back to the lake. You sit by the waters edge, lighting another cigarette as Bucky sits next to you.

You rest your head on his shoulder and he wraps his arms around you, he coos softly, half expecting you to cry. He's confused when you don't. It's a strange comparison, how Sarah went screaming, but you stood still, quiet.

"what happened, kotenok?", he purrs, soft and sweet.

You stumble over your words for a moment, "Sarah has always been more.. sensitive", you whisper, smoke drifting from your lips. "She's always been more prone to breakdowns and crying and things"

"you're like Steve, he's a suffer in silence kind of guy"

"like father like daughter, eh?"

He chuckles softly, "I guess so, yeah"

You sent him away after a while, choosing to sit by yourself. You sat there until the sun started to rise, the time Steve would normally go out for a walk. Sure enough, he came and tapped you on the shoulder.

He smiled down at you apologetically, offering his hand. You took it.

"wanna come for a hike?"

You nodded with a smile and followed after him, a few steps behind.

"I'm really sorry, about last night, about everything actually"

"its okay", you mumble, not wanting to get into it.

"I'm proud of you, you know", you stopped at his words, stunned. "yeah, I was just like you when I was young. I wanted to go to art school. I know I made a big deal of you dropping out, but I'm proud of you"

You gave a genuine smile as you hugged his side, he mumbled an 'I love you' into your hair and the two of you continued hiking in happy silence.

Sarah wasn't talking to either of you, you couldn't bring yourself to face her either. So while she was outside that evening, you slipped into your shared room and grabbed some spare clothes before trudging down the hall and knocking on Bucky's door.

"Hey", he chimed, when he took you in, he was slightly confused. "you okay?"

"yeah", you chuckled, mumbling slightly. "can I stay in here?"

He was more than happy to let you sleep in his bed, the two of you curled up together behind a locked door. He ran his hands through your hair, stroking his knuckles softly over your cheek. He traced the curve of your nose, the outline of your lips, even the line of your collarbones.

You kept your eyes closed, just let him admire you. You only opened them when he tucked himself against you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. You loosely slung your arms around his shoulders, tracing your fingertips over the plates of his metal arm. You hummed when they clicked and whirred softly under you touch.

"you're so soft", he mumbles into your skin.

You chuckle in response, "what?"

"no one is ever gentle when it comes to that thing", he shrugs his left arm as he speaks, you watch in admiration as all the plates click in succession.

"I think it's interesting", you whisper. "It's actually kind of pretty"

He laughs at your response, but he doesn't realise that your sketchbook is filled with icy blue eyes and a shiny collaboration of vibranium where a limb should be, all sketches of varying degrees of completion.

He lifts his head to gaze at you, just for a moment before hes craning his neck to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips, you eagerly return. He crawls his way up the bed, cupping your face in calloused hands, now you're craning your neck. He slowly rolls himself on top of you, snaking one hand to the back of your neck. You kiss, because that's all you can do, with your parents right down the hall.

Eventually he falls asleep and you slip out of his grasp, finding scrap paper and a pen. You sketch the broad expanse of his back, taking extra care to map out his scars just right, you search for all the paper thin scars and the ones that look like freckles, you sketch them too. He's a beast of a man, you should be scared of him, but you aren't, you've got him wrapped around your finger.

The next morning he slides into the passenger seat next to you, you smile at him. He rests his hand on your thigh, occasionally wandering higher or pinching the soft flesh, sometimes he leans in and peppers feather light kisses to your cheek. He gently bites at your neck, making you whimper and whine behind the wheel.

When you finally pull into his driveway, he insists you come in. You wave at Steve, gesturing to Bucky's open door, he throws you a thumbs up.

You shut the door gently, and Bucky's on top of you in seconds, hand on your throat, pinning you to the door, you whimper.

"it's okay, kitten", he growls, "I won't hurt you", you stay silent. He presses soft kisses to your cheek, trailing them across your jaw and down your neck, and then he lands on your pulse point, and he bites down hard. You yelp, and he pulls you up the stairs.

He does the same thing when he has you caged against the bed, his hands massage your thighs as he trails loving kisses down your neck, before sinking sharp teeth into your pulse point, making you gasp.

He does it again once he's buried deep inside of you, one hand prying your thighs apart and the other holding your wrists above your head. He mumbles words of praise between kisses; "such a good girl for me, taking everything I give you", then he clamps sharp canines into your neck again, only this time he tastes blood.

It's a welcome taste on his tongue; warm and metallic, and strangely familiar.

When he's finished, panting and glowing in soft evening light, you examine him closely. He smiles down at you, and he wonders what you're looking for.

"you could tear open my throat, and let me die in your arms", you whisper, but you're only half here, your mind has wandered, but he knows you still expect an answer.

"I could", he says plainly, accepting of the fact that you were so fragile compared to him, that he could rip you up and tear you open and let you bleed out in his arms.

"why don't you?"

"I'm a sucker for art girls", he whispers jokingly, but when you gaze up at him, he can see that theres something bigger at play in your mind, so he takes a deep breath and tries again. "you're soft, and familiar, and you make everything a little bit better. Why would I kill the object of my affections, when I could just mark her, make her mine, and have her forever", he words it as poetically as he can, desperate to satisfy whatever thirst you needed to quench.

You nod slowly, taking in his words. Then you roll away from him and pick your jeans up from his bedroom floor, you fish around in your pockets before you pull out a carefully folded piece of paper and hand it to him.

It takes him a while to realise what it is. It's one of your sketches, he identifies that immediately. But then he realises that its him, it's his back, the night you slept in his room at the cabin. He looks at it more closely, ogling at the detail and the perfect placement of every imperfection staining his skin.

He takes you in his arms, and presses a soft kiss to your pulse point, blood seeping slowly onto his lips.

'his', you think, and a part of you wants to never let him go, and another knows that eventually, you'll need to.

@vicmc624 @adriannajackson @zizzlekwum @chipilerendi @madaroni37

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