#witch!bucky

At first he thinks the tapping on the window is the branch of the magnolia tree, bashing its pink blooms against the glass. But his fingers falter on the keyboard as he remembers he cut that branch back last week, threw it on the compost pile where it wouldn’t drive him crazy every time the wind blew its way.

Perhaps he should have put up the stronger spells - the ones that would warn him when people approached, the ones that would connect him to his land more tightly, so he could feel everything it feels.

But no. That way leads only to one place.

He turns slowly, swivelling his desk chair around to see the window and what looks like a bird of prey perched on the windowsill, one talon raised to… knock.

Bucky blinks and the bird looks back at him, then it very clearly raises its talon again and knocks. Bucky stares back at it and he can feel his muscles tightening. The bird is too intelligent to be just a bird, he knows. But he’s not going to think of it.

He crosses over to the window and cracks it open.

“Shoo,” he says, which has to be the least effective thing he could possibly do. The bird must think so too, because the way it gazes back looks almost amused. Although perhaps Bucky is just putting his own thoughts onto it. “Get lost,” he tells it, putting more force into his words. “I’m trying to work.”

It makes a noise, half screech half… trill? And hops towards him.

“Get gone,” he tells it, more firmly. Its beak looks sharp, its talons sharper, and he is reluctant to open the window wider or stick his hand out to bat it away. It makes that noise again and Bucky can feel it and he grits his teeth. “I’m not looking for a familiar,” he tells it. “Go find a witch that cares.”

He gets the feeling that the bird - the familiar - is laughing at him as it cocks its head to one side and makes that noise again.

“Fuck off,” Bucky says.

It’s bad luck to insult a familiar. He knows that. His father had had one, for a few years when Bucky was very young. She had been a hare with bright, sharp eyes and a strong kick. She’d stayed right by his father’s side, up until the accident, and then - well, then she’d saved his ma and his sister before his sister was even born.

It’s supposed to be a sign of greatness, or some such nonsense, a familiar finding you. You’re supposed to be grateful. There are whole family celebrations if a witch gets a familiar. A bond for life, one way or another, a boost to your magic, a companion to guide you through the strange world that lies beyond normal sight.

And one’s shown up on his windowsill, of all places.

“You must be lost as all hell,” he tells it and it hops towards him again. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”

It hops closer again.

It wants in, that’s clear enough. And as much as Bucky wants to shut the window against it and send the bird packing to bother some other poor witch who’d probably welcome it with open arms, there’s a movement behind him and he turns to see his grandmother’s book fall right off the shelf he’d put it on.

“And you can shut up too,” he tells it.

But it’s too late, in his shock he’d pushed the window open further. Not much, but enough for the feathery body to push through and start to flap around.

“What are you…?” he asks. The bird swoops around to perch on his desk. “Don’t touch anything.”

He crouches down to pick up the book and it’s fallen open to a page with a potion recipe to banish bad dreams. He shuts it quickly and drags a chair over to put it right back where it was.

Previously….

“Hey, Bucky?” You whispered softly.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again.” He obliged, closing the distance to kiss you again. He was the one to deepen the kiss first, gentle yet dominating, demanding your full attention. You got lost in his touch, pressed against him as his hand around your waist pulled you tighter against him. “James,” you practically purred against his lips.

He groaned softly, smirking. “I love it when you say my name.” His lips brushed against yours, easily pulling your mouth back on his.

“Then I’ll keep saying it, Angel Eyes,” you murmured, pulling far enough off of him to run a hand through his fluffed up and mused hair. He groaned softly, making you grin as you lightly traced your fingertips against his scalp. “I want to remember, Bucky. Help me remember and I help you remember? All of it? From the beginning? I know a witch from another Coven who can help us.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, lips brushing past yours as he nodded. “All of it, Sweetling. From the beginning. And Theo?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

----

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Yeah, Little Witch?”

“Why’d you jump in front of that silver dagger? It would have like, ya know, hurt Nat, but it would like kill you. Dumb bitch juice much?” You turned to face Bucky, still wrapped in his arms, completely content with just teasing him.

“Don’t come after me with facts, y/n/n, it's not fair.” He groaned, “I just acted, didn’t really stop and think.”

“Also, did my entire coven fuck off because they thought we were gonna bone?”

“Honestly, I was kinda crying because I took too much blood from you, Nat called me a pussy and said your anemic ass passes out easily, paraphrasing here-“

“Obviously.”

“And Nat and Steve, totally have a thing going on btw,” he continued, ignoring your interruption, “Kinda like shared a look and Nat went, ‘Alright, well, coven’s gonna just move this party outta here, give these kiddos some space,’ and that’s when I noticed you killed that Council Member, which is incredibly hot honestly, and like woah you’re hot, sorry sidetracked.”

“Keep boosting my ego and you might get more kisses out of it,” you bopped his nose, grinning playfully as he snapped his fangs towards it, making you yelp and burst into a fit of giggles.

He happily buried his face in your neck, holding you close, “My powerful and adorable witch,” he murmured.

“My brooding and dark and mysterious but actually a big goofball vampire,” you retorted, grinning when he pulled back to give you a look. “What? It’s completely true.”

You shrugged, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to shoot Nat a text. The Coven group chat was already lit up with messages, mostly them talking behind Sam and Steve’s back about the vampires, and planning their next move, and of course, the obligatory ‘making fun of the couple for their sex-scapades’ messages.

Bucky read most of the messages over your shoulder, not wanting to let you go so easily. “How many eggplant emojis can Wanda text before her fingers hurt?”

“Don’t let her hear that, or you’ll find eggplants everywhere. I made that mistake with the donut emoji,” you leaned your head against his shoulder, shooting a gif of a girl rolling her eyes.

“Did that picture just move?” Bucky whispered behind you.

“Do you not know what gifs are?”

“Phones are too easy to track; we usually use burner phones. Call and simple texts only.” He explained, much to your amusement.

“Allow me to teach you, oldie,” you teased, spending the next hour showing him the world of social media. His little grin and wide eyes sent your heart fluttering, and you silently prayed he didn’t hear it.

Soon, you yawned, your eyes threatening to close as sleep started to pull you in. Bucky simply tightened his arms around you, tucking you both underneath the covers of the bed. “Sleep, Sweetling. I’ll be here when you wake up,” he kissed your head tenderly, causing you to smile tiredly.

“Promise?” You spoke mid-yawn, letting Bucky place your phone back on the nightstand.

“Promise. And then we’ll talk about everything that happened. You deserve to rest.” You didn’t reply, only burying your face into his chest, elated to drink in his scent, the warm vanilla, and mint overtaking your senses. Spending so much time around him lately, you no longer minded the faint scent of copper blood mixed into his scent, but now you noticed something else. Tones of earthy traces, sparks of flame, and salt from the sea. He was starting to smell like a witch too. That last thought had you smiling goofily as sleep overtook you and your mind plunged into darkness.

-

Warm hands. Big, dragging, gentle, soft. Light kisses below your ear. Whispers of love. A murmur of “Sweetling.” Contentment. Sated. But this time the memory didn’t flee, it continued. Light kisses became heated, hands pressed against each other, fingers brushing alongside a soft fur blanket. Gasping breaths, nerves lit up on fire. Bits and pieces like a puzzle pulling together to make the final picture.

“Come on, James! It’s the summer solstice and a full moon, and you are taking positively forever!” Your voice cried out, tugging a warm hand with you, your other arm carrying a woven basket filled with candles and blankets.

Pale moonlight illuminating the grassy meadow as you let go of his hand, placing the fur blankets down before lining the stones, crystals, and candles in a circle. “I do not think the moon will climb any faster than it does every year, Theodosia,” Bucky stood there, his hair an inch longer than you remembered, grinning as he helped make the circle comfortable.

“Still! I want this to be perfect,” you whispered, sighing softly as you stood in the middle of the circle. Alone with only your lover in the wilderness, unafraid to be who you really were. At peace. Excited.

You pulled on the string of your cloak, tugging it off until you tossed it out of the circle entirely, bare as you sat on the furs. Looking up at Bucky, you smiled, “Will you be joining me, or staring the entire time?”

He simply smirked, “I would not mind watching, I must admit.”

“Oh nonsense, hurry yourself or I will send you back home,” you teased, ignoring the blush threatening to creep onto your face.

“I am moving, do not worry, Little Witch,” he chuckled, pulling off his own cloak and tossing it out of the circle before lying beside you.

Without a word you threw your leg on the other side of his hips, easily finding your way above him, straddling his hips. “Why hello there, My Love,” you smiled warmly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hello there, Sweetling,” his hands gripped your hips, the electricity pulsing from your body didn’t affect him, simply surrounding you both as the winds started to pick up. Light kisses became needier, heated. “I’m yours,” he pledged in a soft voice.

“And I’m yours. Forever, mo chridhe,” You smiled warmly, his eyebrows furrowing as he pulled you close to kiss again. Your hands ran through his hair, moaning softly as he nipped at your bottom lip. Electric pulsing came from a source that was not your powers, euphoria as flashes of other memories swept along like a coursing river.

-      

Picking flowers in a meadow, laying amongst the lavender.

-

Lying beside a fire, warm hands around your body, pulling you closer by your hips.

-

Handmaking candles in preparation for the winters, lining your coats with furs, placing new fur blankets on the bed.

Your back arching, fingers gripping those same furs as you cried out.

-

Murmurs of spells and enchantments, healings.

-

Whispers with sour tones behind your back. Witch. Devil’s Spawn.

-

As quickly as the wave of memories turned changed, they quickly turned back to icy blue eyes. Eyes and arms that pulled you in, kissed your head and lips that said they loved you. James. Bucky.

“This isn’t real, Little Witch,” He gently cupped your face in his hands. “This isn’t real, it’s time to go,” He whispered.

“I don’t want to go again, James. I don’t want to lose you again,” you murmured, closing your eyes as you leaned against his hands.

“Don’t you remember, Theo? You found me again, I won’t let you get away that easy.” Your eyes fluttered open, deep blue ice pulling you back into the bright room. You noticed it was an older room, seemingly of a log cabin. You’ve been here before, but you couldn’t quite remember when. “I’m never letting you go again.”

“I thought you said it was time to go?” You looked back at him, nuzzling deeper into his warm arms. Something about that seemed wrong.

He smiled warmly, tilting your chin up to look at him, affection burning in his eyes, “It is, but I’ll be right there when you open your eyes. I’ll be your anchor in the light, you’ve always been the Good Witch, now it’s my turn to guide you to light magic. We’ll go together.”

“Promise?” Your voice showed exactly how terrified you were.

“Promise, Sweetling.” He smiled, kissing your temple affectionately, “You won’t be alone. Now, wake up.”

--

You gasped awake, eyes wide, shaking. Bucky was sitting up above you, wide eyes and trying to calm you. His mouth was moving, and you absentmindedly felt his hands gently holding your face. Your senses seemed to flood you at once, the bile rising in your throat, terror filling your body as Bucky’s words finally registered in your brain.

“There you go, baby girl, breathe with me. In, out, just like that,” following his words your trembling soon stopped, and you let your eyes close, trusting in the man in front of you. Sighing softly, he pressed his thumbs against your cheeks, and you were surprised to find that it came back wet. You were crying. God, you felt kinda pathetic but being in his arms made you feel safe. “You alright now?” He asked softly, your only response being a small nod. You couldn’t even remember why you were crying.

You moved closer, leaning against him on the bed again. “The memories… They’re coming faster than I can stop them.”

“What did you see?” His voice was soft, still cradling you close, not willing to let you go so easily.

“Doesn’t matter too much,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t notice you blushing as you recalled the moonlit ritual with him.

“Does it? Or are you too embarrassed to say it?” He teased, tilting your head up to look at him, you were curled up in his arms, both of your arms secure against your chest.

“Rituals in the light of the full moon,” you swallowed thickly, steeling your courage. “Using sex magic for bigger spells,” you murmured.

His cheeks flushed pink but kept on grinning, clearly enjoying your shyness. “Is that it, Little Witch?”

“Mostly flashes of random moments,” You paused, becoming more serious, “I hate how none of them connect, it’s all a bunch of random pieces of string in a cobweb…”

“Or a really fucked up jigsaw.” He gently laid you back down across the soft blankets, laying beside you. “I understand that more than you think.”

You moved closer, gently rubbing your nose against his, allowing your eyes to close as you pressed a kiss to his head, letting his head rest at the top of your sternum. “I want to remember you, all of you. You’ve always been there, in the back of my head for years and I haven’t even noticed. You’ve always been a part of me,” you gulped faintly as his nose pressed lightly against your collarbone, grazing past the skin there, lips dotting small kisses along the exposed flesh above your mint charm necklace.

“I used to wonder why I was obsessed with honey. Sam used to tease me that there was no pleasing me,” he continued pressing kisses up your skin, “No matter what honey I tried, I never liked it, it was never right. Now I know it’s because,” he paused at your pulse point, teasingly licking up the thin cords of your neck that shielded your arteries from exposure. The attention made you keen, a faint whimper escaping your lips; one you instantly regretted as you felt his responding smirk against your skin. “Your scent is the honey I was missing. My mate’s scent,” he murmured, placing a possessive kiss just below your ear.

“Mate?” you whispered, the question at the forefront of your mind promptly evaporating the second he started to suck gently on your pulse point, fangs brushing against the skin without breaking it.

“Mine,” his voice was at a near growl, which sent a warm spark directly to your core.

“Make me remember, mo chridhe,” you weren’t quite sure where that phrase kept coming from, an underlining need to say it, but you decided not to question it. “Please-“ your pleas died off with a small breathy moan as his kisses moved up just far enough to suck a line of hickeys right under your jaw.

“Gladly, Sweetlin’ I’d do anything for ya,” as his voice got huskier, his accent started to slip in. He rolled a bit of his weight onto you, moving his lips higher again to claim yours. He was dominating, just a level below overwhelming; too much without being too much.

As your lips are being kissed, very thoroughly mind you, his hands start to push up your shirt, a random button down you happened to have on a chair earlier and Nat must have put on you while you were passed out. Must have had blood on the other shirt.

Your skin was heating up, your hands finding their way onto his body. One hand pressed against his abdomen, nails scratching faintly, enjoying the little groan he would give you in response. The other hand in his thick curls, finding purchase in them as you arched faintly against his touch.

“Bucky?” you murmured, biting your lip as you pressed your forehead against his. “Bite me,” you paused before adding in a soft voice, “Claim me.”

He pulled away, icy blue eyes wide, voice hoarse, “How do you know about vampire claims?” It was a little archaic, but a vampire could claim another nocturnal, and sometimes even humans. It wasn’t painful per se, but it would be for life.

“When I was doing research into vampires, I read it in one of the older texts.” You whispered, suddenly nervous. “Y-you don’t have-“

“No, no, Sweetling,” his hands pulled away from your hips, tenderly holding your face in his palms. “I just want you to be sure. Being Bound to each other is one thing, we cannot control that, but Claiming? It’d be forever, no one would come near you,” his thumbs gently rubbed circles into your cheeks, eyes watching your response carefully.

“I know… I’m yours, remember? Forever,” you placed your hands on top of his, pressing a soft kiss against his fingertips.

His face softened, his thumb running along the seam of your lips, his eyes glancing down before focusing on your eyes again. “And I am yours,” he agreed, smiling faintly. “I remember…. Are you sure you want this, Little Witch? You don’t have to let the past define you - define us.”

“I’m sure. The past isn’t making this decision for me, Bucky. Our past brought me to you, but I fell in love with this version of you. I love every form and every part of James Buchanan Barnes.”

“God, I love you,” he confessed before pushing forward and kissing you. Desperate as he kissed you deeper, demanding in his ministrations. You pushed his hands back onto your hips, your own hands quickly finding their way back to his hair, tugging him closer as you moaned softly against his lips. He groaned softly, his hand gripping your thigh and pulling it over his waist.

Lips breaking apart for breath, voice hoarse and gasping pleas. He simply smirked in response, your hands moving past his shoulders to tug his shirt up. He pulled away, sitting up, chuckling as you whimpered softly from the loss. “Patience, baby,” he teased, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside. You blinked a few times, your brain connecting to your body again before pulling your own shirt off, looking up at him shyly. He ran his hands down your sides, before tugging your hips closer to where he was kneeling on the bed. “If you want to stop, just say the word,” he leaned over you, foreheads pressed together as he kissed you again, this time softer, with more reverence.

“I want this, I want you. Don’t stop, Angel Eyes,” you murmured against his lips, eyes fluttering closed with a small moan as his hands ran up against your inner thighs, pushing them apart.

“Gladly, Sweetlin’” his touch was teasing, but his hand soon moved right over your throbbing core, making you gasp softly. He dragged your shorts and panties off with one tug, throwing them aside hastily before his fingers returned to your folds, teasing as he spread your slick around. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?”

He pressed harder against your clit, rubbing small circles there making you cry out. “Ye-yes! All… all for you,” your hips jerked against his hand, choking out a moan as the pleasure started to electrify every nerve in your body.

“Is that right? How bad do you want me, Little Witch?” You whimpered softly, your mind swirling, unable to fully formulate a response. Your hand gripped his wrist, writhing under his touch as his hands started to tease your entrance. “Answer me, baby,” he warned against your ear, thoroughly enjoying your squirming. He kissed down your neck, taking his time teasing your skin with his teeth. Your hands quickly gripped onto your comforter, toes curling as he kitten licked your nipple, lips attaching to it before sucking harshly.

“So- ah! So bad!” You cried out, breathy moans escaping your lips as he slid two fingers into you.

He pumped them in and out slowly before curling them against your walls, smirking against the skin of your collarbone as you practically wept. “There it is,” he marveled, soon pumping his fingers faster against that spot, his thumb rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves as he sped up.

The knot in your stomach tightened, your heart fluttering as you neared your edge. “Please, James. Please,” you practically begged, not noticing his smirk as he watched you squirm for him, his free hand pressed against your stomach to keep your hips from moving.

“That’s it, Sweetlin’, let go, I’ve got you,” his hand pushed your hips down as you arched against him, the show of strength adding to the building ecstasy. The knot snapped, sending you into euphoria as you moaned his name. Electricity ran up your spine and down your arms, gripping onto him as little sparks surrounded you.

He watched you in awe, slowing his hand once you squirmed away from his hand from the overstimulation. He chuckled, pulling away from you as your eyes opened. You groaned, the first sight you saw being him sucking his fingers clean. You tried catching your breath, pushing off of your elbows to sit up, grabbing onto his jeans and pulling him close with it, attacking him in a heated kiss.

Your hands immediately went to the button of the jeans, practically ripping it off as you unzipped them. “Off. Now,” you gasped against his lips. He nodded, obliging as he pushed his knees up off the bed to stand, scrambling out his jeans and boxers. You bit your lip, smirking as you watched him trip over himself. He froze, unsure if he should continue, giving you the ‘deer in headlights’ look. You sat up on your knees, pulling him closer and using his surprise to push him down onto the bed, putting yourself on top of him. “Need you now, babe,” you murmured. Straddling his hips, you kissed him deeply as he lined himself up.

Slowly lowing yourself down onto him, you moaned, feeling the stretch of his length. He wasn’t small by any means, so you slowed down, whimpering softly as your hips met his, his length fully seated in you. “F-fuck, you feel so good,” he mumbled, his hands gripping onto your hips. You preened at the praise, taking a moment with him bottomed out, adjusting to his thick length.

“So do you,” you lean your forehead against his, pressing kisses across his face as you softly rock your hips. You moved slowly, lacing your hand in the hair at the nape of his neck, your other hand gripping onto his shoulder as you raised your hips a little faster. You dug your nails into the thick cords of his muscles, moaning as you moved. His hips bucked up against yours, making you basically mewl out, “Fuck.” You whimpered, your eyes closing as he fixed his stance, continuing to meet your hips thrust for thrust as you rode him. “Couldn’t just let me be in control, huh?” you teased, circling your hips against his.

He chuckled, gripping your hips to still you. “Bold of you to assume you’re in charge here,” your eyes opened in slight surprise, a chill going up your spine as you realized his eyes were a mix of his witch and vampire sides, red with a golden ring around them. He took charge, slamming his hips up, making you yelp as the pleasure spread at the rough display, both arms around his neck holding on for dear life. You most definitely didn’t mind this side of him. “You take me so well, such a good girl,” the praise sends your head spinning, a fact he locked away in his head for later. “Fuck, Sweetling,” He groans loudly as he grips you tighter, using the angle to pound up into you.

“Fuck, ple-please,” your voice died off as he continued, in total control of your pleasure. One hand was wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady as he moved harder, his length pressing against sensitive nerve endings you didn’t even know existed. His other hand slid between your bodies, roughly circling your clit, making your body seize up, clenching around him.

“Cum for me, Sweetling,” his voice was husky, lips pressed below your ear, “Then I’ll Claim you,” he promised, his own moan cutting his voice off.

You could only reply in breathless whimpers and mewls, brutal yet beautiful bliss overwhelming your body as the familiar knot in your stomach snapped again. He licked right over your pulse point, his hips stuttering a bit as he praised you, “That’s it,” he practically snarled against your skin.

Just as the pleasure started to die down, you felt his fangs brush against your skin. You relaxed in his arms, perfectly boneless. “Come on, Bucky. Cum for me,” you nuzzled your nose under his ear, “Please,” you groaned quietly, one hand tugging lightly on his hair.

His growled softly, fangs bared before they sunk into your lifeline just as he came hard. You cried out, the bite sent euphoric sparks down your neck and spine, pooling at your core and lighting up your brain which sent you gasping and crying out into another orgasm. It was completely different from the last time Bucky fed on you.

Just like that, you felt something snap inside of you, the hole you felt in your chest all your life shifted, filling. The yearning gone, filled instead with contentment and consuming bliss. You could feel and hear Bucky whimper against your neck as he pulled away, hips slowing until they stilled. He still held you close, gently licking the mark on your neck, cleaning off your blood as the wound closed while you mewled softly.

You both just held onto each other, catching your breath, gladly pressed into each other. “Did you feel that too?” You whispered once your breathing became normal again.

He pulled away slowly, a small sheen of sweat on his skin but he was grinning at you. “I did… I think my vampire side is a little happy I claimed you,” he teased.

You blushed but couldn’t help your little smile. “I concur,” you joked, kissing him softly. The heat and passion from earlier dwindling down, both of you sated. He held onto your hips, turning and laying you both down on the bed again, holding you close, unwilling to let you go just yet. “Ya know, we didn’t get much talking done.”

His eyes lit up as he laughed, grinning as he kissed your temple. “I don’t think your Coven will mind much. Now rest, Sweetling,” he pushed a curl of hair behind your ear, tenderly holding you. Your legs curled between his, your body tucked into his broad chest, letting his scent mixed with the smell of sex surround you.

“You too, mo chridhe,” you smiled warmly, holding yourself close together as you let sleep take both of you into the depths of darkness.

---

mo chridhe means My Heart in Scots Gaelic

---

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