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This was not how the mission was supposed to go.
They expected it to be a cut and dry, get in, get out, type of situation. However, things started to derail not a moment too soon after breaching the perimeter. A horde of armed guards stood at the ready with a pack of monsters thirsting for blood, eyed red and sharp teeth shining in the moonlight.
It was a trap, and Bucky was right in the middle of the fray.
Shards of glass crunch underneath Bucky’s combat boots, echoing in the dimly lit corridor as he struggles to locate an exit, a door, a window, a crack in a wall, anything. He shakes his head, mind slightly fuzzy from whatever drug that’s running in his system.
He had managed to get himself kidnapped, despite possessing several years of experience as a sniper, trained by the elite armed forces, SHIELD. The pair of vampires who snagged him wasn’t exactly the smartest, but one of them caught him off guard and jabbed him in the right arm with a needle. It stung like a bitch, though he couldn’t focus on the pain for long before the other vamp was tugging rugged leather over his midsection.
That only made him put up an even bigger fight, punching and jabbing his way to freedom. His metal arm ended up being his saving grace because if not, he more than likely would be unconscious on that cold table right now.
He’d no idea why they were so interested in him. He certainly wasn’t about to stick around and search the gruesome experiment room for clues, no thank you. Or had it been a torture room?
Fuck if he knew, or even cared.
Splinters burst into the air as Bucky launches himself at a fragile wooden door. He grunts from the force, rolling his shoulder to snap his metal arm back into place before taking off on a desperate sprint. His boots plunge into the thick mud, the heavy downpour obscuring his vision. There aren’t many lights out here, which is a curse and a blessing because he needs to avoid being seen.
He escapes the facility through a demolished section of the stone barrier, where it had been unintentionally blasted by a tank. Yeah, a fucking tank. Just what this crazy world needs, super monsters who utilize human-made machinery and weapons.
HYDRA was a highly corrupted black magic group but has been dormant since they were eradicated decades ago. Bucky and his team were tasked with clearing out one of their unoccupied bases, but lo and behold, it was utilized by an aspiring bunch of wannabes.
Bucky slides his knife out of his leg holster to cut through the overgrown forest, pushing his way forward. He reaches up to his ear for his coms system, “Nat? Clint? You guys alright?”
The line continues to stay dead even after several tense seconds.
“Fuck.”
It looks like he’s on his own at this point, in the dark, eerie forest.
He makes a sharp turn and rushes down a desolate trail, not giving a damn that his carelessness might attract some predators. Panic begins to settle in his mind, sounds becoming louder as he runs in a haste. A tree limb snaps in the distance, followed by a snarl.
His ears are still ringing from the rumble of the battle, which might explain why he’s hearing things.
Unless something is actually out there.
Bucky slows down to listen out, picking up quiet, but not silent thumps nearby. He whips his head around frantically as he tries to track the source of it, sensing another presence around him.
He’s too distraught to prevent himself from stumbling over a rock that's sticking out of the ground, causing him to tumble down a hill. His long hair cascades around his face, obscuring his vision. He slams into a large tree trunk, hard enough that he gets the wind knocked out of him. He bites his lower lip to suppress a scream, pain radiating through his entire body.
As he struggles to stand up, swaying and panting rapidly, a deep reddish-brown wolf steps out of the trees, just on the edges of his vision.
Bucky’s eyes widen, ears vaguely ringing. He jerks sideways when the wolf approaches, legs wobbling before he’s collapsing onto the hard, soaked ground. He crawls backward on his hands and knees as he attempts to get away. He isn’t so lucky, and the world starts to spin once his back collides against a tree.
He can’t stop the whine that escapes his throat, squeezing his eyes shut as the wolf leans down to sniff him. A brush of soft fur trails down his neck, every muscle in his body going rigid. His mind screams at him to snatch the knife that’s tucked in his side holster.
He could easily slash the wolf’s throat with a quick arm swing, yet the wolf doesn’t seem perturbed. It’s as if the wolf is curious about him, and it almost feels like he’s being... scented.
Something causes the wolf’s head to snap to the left, back to where Bucky had been running from. Bucky squints, trying to figure out what the wolf heard. The wolf takes off in that direction before Bucky can determine what had bothered it.
Bucky sits there frozen in shock until a couple of faint gunshots, accompanied by a harrowing scream, ring out in the distance. “Oh shit— oh shit—”
He pushes himself up to his feet and scrambles to evade the ongoing fight, not willing to risk his chances of being spotted.
The wolf probably got caught between the crossfire. Several beings are after him, with many guns, and magic. There's no way—
Time blurs as Bucky sprints through the dark forest, the rain becoming a light drizzle now. Despite the full moon and honestly, his better than usual eyesight, everything feels exactly the same. Is he even making progress? Is this place magically trapped? Is he running in a loop?
He must've not been paying attention in his panic, because he doesn't see the red wolf step back out in front of him until he almost slams into it. The wolf doesn't react as he peddles backward.
Between one second and the next, the wolf seems to almost shake, its body blurring and morphing until a large, beefy, naked man stands in front of him.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I promise.” The man’s voice is deep, almost a rumble, and it makes the hair on Bucky’s arms stand up on instinct.
Bucky chokes on a breath when he tries to speak. “H-Huh? Who are—”
The man steps closer, with no regard for personal space as he easily scoops Bucky into his arms.
"Hey, put me down! What the hell—"
“They were after you, weren’t they?” The man grumbles a few words, but it’s too faint for Bucky to hear. “You’re safe now. I’m taking you somewhere for the night, somewhere warm. It’s chilly out here,” he continues, already starting to hike through the forest, deeper than Bucky had wanted to.
God the man isn’t even hesitating, despite carrying Bucky, who weighs over two hundred pounds on top of a metal arm.
"Why? Why did you help me?"
The man glances down at him, blue eyes glimmering under the soft moonlight. "Because I could smell you,” he replies flatly. “You're my mate."
Bucky blinks, barely able to fathom what he’d just heard. “I’m your what?”
“Mate,” the man clarifies, and it isn’t until this moment that Bucky notices his thick beard coming up to his jawline, matching his medium-length blonde hair. “I didn’t think it could be possible, considering you’re human, but it’s true.”
“Wait—” Bucky sighs, shaking his head. “I’m so fuckin’ confused.”
“It basically means that my instinct is to protect you, mark you up with my scent, and mate with you.”
Bucky sputters. “I-I’m sorry what? Are you saying...”
The man hums, a sliver of sharp teeth poking out between his lips as he grins. “Oh yes. You and I are going to have lots of fun together.”
Bucky glances back at the facility, temporarily ignoring the absurd information. Seriously, what the fuck? Mates?
“Are we just going to ignore the war going on back there?”
The man frowns, although he doesn’t seem phased by the question. “It’s not uncommon for vampires and such to utilize an old HYDRA base. A friend and I used to go after them, clear them out, make them unusable. That one didn’t look all that organized. I’m sure it’ll be taken care of by your teammates, they seemed fairly capable on their own,” he explains, then gives Bucky a soft smile. “Besides, we don’t want you to get any more hurt than you already are, now do we?”
“I...I guess not, no,” Bucky says, gazing up at the man— werewolf— who came to his rescue. “What’s your name?”
“Steve. You?”
“Bucky.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bucky,” he says, winking. “Do you mind if I set you down? My bike is not too far from here.”
“Y-Yeah, I think I can manage to walk a bit.”
Heat pools in Bucky’s lower belly when he starts to trail behind the werewolf. God, where does he even look? It’s practically pitch black dark, but he can still make out the round curve of an irresistible, bare ass. Those are the broadest set of shoulders he’s ever laid his eyes on, too, firm muscles that compete with his thick thighs.
Everything about Steve pushes all of Bucky’s buttons, a strong werewolf/man who has a caring heart, in addition to being protective of his mate. And he rides a bike as well? Bucky can't shake this affectionate feeling even if he wanted to.
He should be concerned about his friends, but they’re both skilled assassins after all. He’s more than certain that they could handle a few measly monsters. With Clint’s archery experience and Nat’s training from her dark past, they’re an unstoppable duo.
“You ready to go?”
Bucky shakes himself out of his thoughts, staring at Steve in his tight white t-shirt, leather jacket, and worn jeans. How did he miss Steve changing? He isn’t complaining, but...
“Uh-huh.”
Steve throws his leg over his bike, then looks over his shoulder to flash Bucky a smile. “Hope on, sweetheart.”
Bucky sighs at the endearment, practically melting under Steve’s soft gaze. “Where are you from, anyway?” he asks as he wraps his arms around Steve’s middle, tightening his grip when the bike comes to life.
“Brooklyn.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but I’ve got a nice cabin outside of the city. If I’m honest, I’ve been dying to share it with someone. I think you’ll like it.”
Bucky rests the side of his face on Steve’s upper back, absorbing the warmth that’s radiating off of him. He can’t help but smile as the words roll off of his lips, “Maybe I will.”