#Brock Rumlow fanfic

[e-dubbc11]

Stripped

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, male strip club shenanigans, lots of fun, fluff, and humor

Word Count: 4.1K-ish (who knew I had this much to say about Stripper! Rumlow 🤣😉)

Summary: Brock and Reader are in an established relationship. He’s been leaving to go to “work” at night and Reader seems to think he’s keeping something from her. Reader goes out with her friends for a friend’s birthday celebration and gets a surprise of her own.

A/N: Based on a conversation between me and my lovely Lily @munsonownsmyass She always has wonderful ideas and this one was a lot of fun. Lily and I bounced dialogue off of each other that I did put in towards the end of this fic. I also made a playlist to go along with this and I’ll link that at the end. Real life Ginger @gijos helped me with a few details for this one too. I hope you like it! 🩵

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Didn’t you work already today, Brock?” You asked, looking up from your book.

Your boyfriend, Brock Rumlow, looked down at you with his whiskey colored eyes and nervously replied, “I did, doll. But this just came up and I’ll get paid extra for it so I have to go.”

The nervous tone to his voice told you he wasn’t exactly telling you the whole truth.

“Are you sure that’s all it is, baby?” You asked, softly.

He cocked his head slightly and gave you a half smile.

“Of course it is, sweetheart.” He replied.

Brock leaned down to kiss you on the forehead and with his work bag slung over his shoulder, he headed for the front door.

“It won’t take too long, I promise.” He said. Brock’s voice sounded tired and extra raspy after the long day he already had.

He had been doing these late night jobs for awhile now, but it just sounded like they weren’t the normal type of work he did for SHIELD. You had no reason not to trust him, he always came home when he said he would, and never broke his promises.

Later that night

You could feel the heat radiating off of his body when he spooned up behind you, his strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he kissed your bare shoulder. The combination of his natural scent was mixed with something unfamiliar, cologne, perfume, or maybe both? But you ignored it and drifted back to sleep.

You were just happy he was home safe with you.

**********

The next morning, the aroma of coffee wafted past your nose as you rolled over in bed. The space next to you was cold where Brock had been sleeping, and you wondered how long he had been awake for.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.” Brock said with a warm smile as you slowly walked into the kitchen.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you asked him, “You must have gotten home pretty late, huh?”

The smile disappeared from his face. He could tell that you were a little upset.

“Yeah, I tried not to wake you, doll. I thought I was being quiet and I’m sorry if I woke you, baby. I really did try not to.” Said Brock.

The look on his face and the tone of his voice told you he felt bad for getting home late and disturbing your sleep but you decided it would be best if you just let it go. Brock felt bad enough without you giving him a bunch of shit for working late. He did apologize for it.

“It’s ok, baby.” You said with a slight smile. “May I have some coffee, please?”

As Brock poured coffee into your favorite mug, you reminded him that you were going out tonight with your friends for a birthday celebration. It was your friend Shannon’s birthday and she decided that she wanted to go see some strippers.

“What?” Brock asked as his lips pulled into a straight line and his voice dipped a little lower, the rasp a little more prominent.

“Yeah…you know it’s not really my thing but that’s what she wanted to do. She’s the birthday girl. You should see her, she bought a sash and everything.” You said with a slight chuckle.

Brock didn’t seem amused at all. He ran his thick fingers through his dark brown hair and hesitated before asking you, “Well, uh, which…which one, I mean, yeah so which club are you going to?”

Taking a sip of your coffee, you raised your eyebrows and shrugged.

“I dunno. I think Shannon said it was a place that’s a little ‘classier’ than the usual ‘bingo hall’ type male strip clubs. These are her words, not mine, baby. I think they’re all a little sleazy.” You said.

“S-so you really don’t know which one you’re going to?” Brock asked again, scratching his head.

You vigorously shook your head back and forth.

The scowl on his face returned as he slowly stroked his beard, his hair still messy from sleep and he pondered carefully on what to say next.

Brock was gazing down at the floor when you tilted his chin up so his eyes were focused on yours.

“What’s the matter, handsome? Do you not want me to go?” You asked, shyly.

He responded quickly.

“No, I mean…of course I want you to go. It’s your friend’s birthday and I would never tell you that you couldn’t do something, you know that. I have to work again tonight anyway.” Said Brock.

“Must be important if they need you on a Saturday night.” You said.

Brock nodded.

Neither one of you had any plans for the day until later so you suggested going out to lunch. He agreed and the two of you had a nice afternoon together.

**********

Brock called out to you from the kitchen before leaving for work.

“Hey doll?!! I’m leavin’ in a minute.”

You had just finished getting dressed. Taking him completely by surprise, you ran into the kitchen, leaped into his arms and planted a kiss on his lips.

He set you back down onto the floor with his hands still wrapped tightly around your waist. Deepening the kiss, his tongue gently pressed against your teeth, begging for access to your mouth. Parting your lips, your tongue tangled with his while he gently brushed his fingers against your lace shirt.

As he rubbed the fabric in between his thick fingers, Brock glanced down at your outfit and pulled away slightly.

“What are you wearin’?” He asked.

You glanced down at your outfit, a sleeveless black lace shirt, tight jeans, and black over-the-knee boots. Turning around in a circle so he could get a better look (and see what he was going to be missing), you gazed up at him through your long dark lashes and replied, “What? You don’t like it?”

You were taunting him but only a little. Brock didn’t really react well to being teased but he tolerated it from you. He kissed the tip of your nose and answered, “Of course I like it, sweetheart. As I’m sure every other man will too when they get a look at ya.”

You rolled your eyes. Brock could be slightly possessive and intimidating but for the most part he would just use his bark and not his bite.

“Baby, it’s not MY birthday. Besides, you know I like to look nice when I go out.” You said.

He looked you over from head to toe.

“Uh huh. You look a little TOO nice, y/n.” Said Brock. “What time are you leaving?”

Glancing at the time on the stove, you replied, “I dunno, an hour or so.”

Brock looked at his watch and said, “Alright, well I gotta get goin’. I’ll see you later.”

“Ok baby, well you be careful. I love you.” You said, with a sly smile and a wrinkle in your nose.

He loved how playful you were and when you were, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Have fun, beautiful. Not TOO much fun, huh? I love you too.” He said.

Brock kissed the tip of your nose, waved and walked out. You heard the bike start up and drive away. He usually didn’t get that worked up over you going out and you wondered why it bothered him so much, but then again you were going to watch male strippers.

Maybe he had a point, you knew how you would feel if female strippers were to grind up against him. It was just a reminder to make sure that the only one receiving any attention tonight, would be the birthday girl.

**********

“Uh, I didn’t think we’d be sitting this close.” You said looking at the stage directly in front of you.

“Yeah…it’s great, isn’t it?!!” Shannon exclaimed.

She was very excited so you just smiled a wide smile and gave her the thumbs up. You were happy because she was happy but you really hoped it wasn’t a curse being so close to the stage. You didn’t want to be singled out or pulled up onto the stage.

Everyone sat down, you turned to another friend that came along, Camilla, and asked, “Uh, s-so do they strip all the way down to, umm, a g-string orrrrr…?”

Camilla laughed and asked, “You’ve really never been to something like this before?”

Looking around, you shook your head nervously.

“Some of them do but a lot of them just strip down to their boxer briefs.” She said.

Still, extremely nervous, you replied, “Oh ok.”

She grabbed a hold of your arm and said, “Relax! We’re here to have fun! Tell that hottie over there to bring you a drink!”

That made you laugh, and you covered your eyes in embarrassment. She was right, you were there to have fun so you motioned for the very handsome shirtless server in a bowtie to come over so you could order a drink.

Even though you’ve never been to anything like this before, it didn’t mean that you were going to show up unprepared.

“Holy shit, y/n!!” Exclaimed Shannon. “How many ones did you bring?” She asked.

You glanced down at the wad of cash in your hand and replied, “Well, there’s a hundred here. Do you think I need more?” You asked in a semi-serious tone.

Everyone just laughed. Camilla touched your shoulder and with a wide smile stretched across her face, she sarcastically replied, “I dunno. You might wanna hit up that ATM at the front of the club.”

With your lips firmly pressed together, you glared at her before replying, “Very funny.”

**********

As the lights dimmed, a spotlight shone on the microphone that was placed in the center of the stage. A chiseled man in a leather vest and cowboy hat walked out as all the people in the audience, most of them women, started to clap and shriek uncontrollably.

Rolling your eyes slightly, you watched as the emcee took the mic and your friends collectively lost their minds over the cowboy in the black leather vest, while the song Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy played in the background.

He tried to calm the crowd but they just screeched even louder. When he did finally get everyone to settle down, he spoke.

“Are you animals ready to have some fun tonight?!!” The cowboy asked with a wide devilish grin.

The audience squealed, hollered and whistled in response. Looking around, you noticed everyone was clapping and very eager for the show to start. The drink you ordered was almost gone and it seemed to be doing its job to help you loosen up a little so you ordered another.

“I see we have some birthday girls in here tonight! Start getting excited because we have something fun planned for you. Alright…up first is a walking cliché but hey, it works. He’s a firefighter by day but also turns the hose on at night, if ya know what I mean. Please welcome ‘Blaze’ to the stage.”

The stage went dark, the music started and the spotlight reappeared. At first you noticed the boots, the dark pants with yellow stripes at the bottom, and the hat. He wasn’t wearing a shirt but he had suspenders on.

Under the lights, his near perfect body glistened under the bright lights and your jaw dropped. With the song Sex on Fire playing, Blaze took in the crowd’s energy and then took their dollar bills.

Removing one suspender strap and then the other, he was completely bare chested now dancing around the stage which is when he stopped in front of you. Slapping some dollar bills down in front of him, you felt yourself start to blush but you managed a shy smile anyway.

He removed his fireman’s helmet, winked, and placed it on top of your head. He danced away to the other side of the stage to finish removing his pants, revealing the short red boxer briefs with flames on them that he had on underneath.

Well that was fun.

“You’d never know that it’s your first time at a place like this!” Said Shannon with an excited smile. “You fit right in, sweetie!”

As the night progressed, you watched all the birthday girls get pulled up on stage and all of the “Magic Mikes” made their night by giving them each their own private dance. Shannon and the others looked like they were having a great time. Also, you and your other friends were having a blast, laughing and tossing dollar bills on stage.

The chiseled cowboy reemerged from backstage to take the mic again.

“Alright birthday girls, I hope you enjoyed your surprises. Now…we’re gonna rock out for this next guy. He has a day job but refuses to tell me what it is, says it’s ‘classified information’ which I take to mean that he’s a spy of some sort. What do you guys think, huh?” He asked.

Everyone started clapping and screaming, preparing themselves for the next dancer. Still wearing the fireman’s helmet, you checked to see how many dollar bills you had left. “That last group of guys were a little expensive,” you thought to yourself as you bit back a smile.

Camilla leaned over and asked you, “So…what do you think is comin’ out here next?”

You pondered for a minute before answering her.

Finally, you replied, “Well, let’s see…we’ve seen a firefighter, M.C. Hammer the construction worker, Captain Breaststroke, the swimmer that stripped down to his Speedo, guy in a three-piece suit, and a bunch of ‘Magic Mikes’…maybe the rest of the Village People are comin’ out next?!”

You started laughing which made Camilla laugh.

“Do you guys do this a lot? Ya know when I’m not around?” You asked the group. “I will admit it is fun but also REALLY cheesy.”

Woody the Cowboy started to talk again.

“Well, it’s a nice night outside but in here it’s about to get dark and stormy. Are you all ready to get…Thunderstruck?” He asked in a breathy whisper into the mic.

As the crowd clapped and screamed in anticipation for the next dancer, you remembered that Thunderstruck is one of Brock’s favorite songs and you hoped he was staying safe at work tonight.

“Ok you crazy animals, get your dollar bills ready and put your hands together for Romeo!” The cowboy said, enthusiastically.

The stage went dark and the cowboy took the mic and the stand with him as he walked off. The lighting linked up with the intro to the song and a silhouette dressed in all black emerged from backstage. His tight black undershirt had a heart in the middle and he wore loose black pants that could be removed quickly.

Flashes of light brightened up the stage for moments at a time then went dark again as the man came closer, moving his hips from side to side. From what you could see, he had dark hair and his toned tan skin glistened under the brief flashes of light.

As he moved closer to the front of the stage, his handsome face came into focus and your jaw dropped to the floor when you saw those amber eyes staring down at you. The music and screams from the crowd were drowned out inside your head. The silence was deafening as your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest, heat rose to your cheeks and your blood burned like wildfire in your veins.

Your friends froze in place when they saw Brock’s face, then turned to look at you seething with anger. Dollar bills were tightly clenched in your fist, the fireman’s hat still on your head when his name escaped your lips, and not in the good way.

“BROCK?!!!!” You yelled as loud as you possibly could.

He didn’t move and was just as surprised to see you as you were to see him. Everyone in the audience stopped and became very quiet.

“Oh shit…Ok, I can explain this.” He finally said after a minute of awkward silence.

“The hell are you doin’ here?!!” You shouted.

“My job, baby! I didn’t think you’d be HERE!” He replied.

“Obviously!!” Narrowing your eyes and glaring at him, you replied, “Start talkin’, ‘ROMEO’! Let’s go!”

You turned on your heels and headed for the entrance to the club with Brock hot on your heels while the cowboy came back out and introduced another dancer.

“Sweetheart…wait!” Brock called out after you.

Not even giving him a chance to explain, you just started yelling.

“THIS is what you’ve been doing when you said you had to go back to work?!!” You asked in an angry tone. “Am I not enough for you, Brock? That you need to get attention from every horny woman in town?!!”

Your breathing became very shallow and your heart felt like it was being squeezed as the pain in your chest persisted. If the dollar bills weren’t clutched in your dominant hand, you would have punched him in the face. You were that angry.

“I ain’t doin’ this for the reason you might think, doll. Alright?! I’m doin’ this because—“ Brock paused; he continued to stare at you and remained quiet.

“I’m waiting, Rumlow!” You said, folding your arms protectively across your chest.

“Sweetheart, it’s a little hard to take you seriously while you’re still wearing the fireman’s helmet.” He said with a half-smile.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Brock?!!” You said, pressing a finger into his chest. “Tell me why you’re doing this or I’m going home and throwing all of your shit out onto the lawn!!”

“Alright, alright!! I needed to make some extra cash because I wanted to buy somethin’ for ya, somethin’ you said you’ve always wanted. I had most of the money but I needed the rest of it fast because the guy I was gonna buy it from had someone else that was interested in it too.” He said. “So THIS is the only way I could make it happen.”

Still angry but also now a little confused, you narrowed your eyes and before you could open your mouth, he took your hand in his and led you to the parking lot.

“Brock, where are we going? I’m not done yelling at you yet.” You said.

He turned his head back to look at you.

“Can you close your eyes for me, doll? Please, y/n?” Asked Brock.

You inhaled sharply, still flustered with anger but you humored him and shut your eyes. The two of you continued to walk for a few more seconds when Brock stopped, let go of your hand and moved to stand behind you. The rasp in his voice sent a restless shiver down your spine as he whispered in your ear.

“Ok, sweetheart…open your eyes.” He said.

Slowly, your eyelids rolled back. The dim street light glowed above a beautiful shiny classic teal Ford Bronco. It looked just like the one your grandfather had when you were a child.

He remembered.

When your relationship with Brock was fairly new, he had asked about a favorite childhood memory and you told him about when you were young, your grandfather used to take you and your brother along with a couple of your cousins to get ice cream every Sunday after dinner during your summer vacation.

All of you would pile into his Bronco, roll the windows down, and off you went. You were the oldest and the only girl so you got to ride in the front seat. You loved that truck, and told Brock that you’d love to own one just like the one your grandfather had, someday.

Looks like someday had finally arrived.

Brock remembered that story and how happy that memory was for you. He even remembered what color it was. Your grandfather bought it in teal because it was your grandmother’s favorite color. Well now you felt like a little bit of an asshole but only a little bit because even though he didn’t technically lie to you, Brock didn’t tell you the whole truth but you could understand why he did what he did. You could only imagine the carnage if the roles were reversed, he would take on the entire room if you were on that stage instead of him.

Covering your mouth with your hands, you were rendered speechless.

“Oh Brock…it’s just like the one my Pop Pops had. You remembered.” You said with a hitch in your voice. “I can’t believe you bought me a car.”

“You like it then?” He asked with a sly smile stretched across his lips.

You gave him a warm smile as tears welled up in your eyes.

“I love it, baby. Thank you. I’d hug you right now but you’re all lubed up and greasy.” You said with a slight chuckle.

Brock laughed and replied, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell ya, doll. It’s a little embarrassing but it made me a lot of money pretty quick. And tonight’s my last night anyway. Your Bronco is paid in full.”

“Well I’m sorry that I jumped to conclusions…and threatened to throw your stuff out on the lawn.” You said, sheepishly.

He smiled and looked at your hand with the dollar bills in it.

“Wait…how many singles do you have left?” Asked Brock, pointing to your hand.

Fanning out the money in your hand, you counted it out loud.

“Ten…I have ten singles left.” You replied, looking up at him through your dark lashes.

“And how many did you start out with?” He asked.

Tight lipped, you didn’t want to answer his question so you looked away at something on the other side of the lot.

“Y/n…sweetheart…how many did you start out with?” He asked again.

Biting down on your lower lip, you tried to look at him but you couldn’t so with your eyes still averted, you finally replied in barely more than a whisper, “A hundred…”

With raised eyebrows and a shocked look on his face, Brock’s jaw dropped and he replied, “WHAT?! A hundred?!”

“Hey that fireman was REALLY good, VERY flexible, plus he gave me his hat.” You said with a wide smile stretched across your face.

Brock’s lips were tight and through clenched teeth, he said, “I’ll kill him. Ya know when he came backstage, he talked about the hot girl in the front row that he gave his hat to.”

With a devilish smile on your face, you said, “Oh really? Well, why don’t you get back in there, shake it for me, and if I like what I see, you can have my last ten dollars.”

Waving the dollar bills in front of his nose, you gave him a wink before leaning in to gently press your lips to his. Brock’s hands suddenly were wrapped around your waist, he pulled your body flush against his, your lips parted as he pressed his tongue against your teeth wanting to twist and knot with yours. A soft moan escaped your lips while your arms snaked around his neck and his stubble scratched your chin.

“You won’t be mad if I finish my last dance?” Asked Brock.

“Well…I hope it’s not your LAST dance, baby. Would you be interested in performing a private show?” You asked.

“As long as my girl is ok with it.” He said, his voice raspy in your ear.

You kissed him again and replied, “Oh I’m sure she’s ok with it. Now, do you want me to get a pole for the bedroom orrrrrrr?”

“Allllll-right, enough sweetheart. Let’s go back inside.” He said, gently smacking your ass.

You started to crack up.

“Ooh, ooh am I gonna get your thongs mixed up with mine?” You said, trying to keep a straight face.

Frowning slightly, he narrowed his eyes and glared at you.

“Very funny, y/n.” Said Brock, walking ahead of you.

Finally getting your laughter under control, you called out to him to get his attention.

“Brock…” You said, catching up to him.

“Yeah?” Brock replied, turning around to face you.

You pushed yourself up onto your toes to kiss him on the cheek.

“You know I tease you because I love you, right?” You whispered.

Brock kissed the tip of your nose, then replied, “I know, doll. I know. And I love you too.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @k-marzolf @gijos @nutmeg17 @nekoannie-chan

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @redstarsandnightmares @randomlittleimp

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

[chaos-and-ink]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love! 💞

I haven't written five fics but uhm, here's my top three (my only three) 😭

As Stable As Water Coming in first, we have ASAW. It's a high school slow burn Stucky fanfic that focusses on Bucky's struggle with Bipolar Disorder, being gay, and his shitty boyfriend Brock Rumlow along with the looming stress of college in the distance. Summary: It’s the summer before his senior year and Bucky’s relationship with his boyfriend, Brock Rumlow, and his mental health are both spiraling out of his control. It doesn’t help that college is looming in the distance and his family is getting more and more concerned for him. Bucky is convinced his mind is careening downhill and nobody can save him. But in the midst of his internal storm, Steve Rogers moves into the neighborhood and the two of them click immediately. Maybe Bucky isn’t quite as alone as he once thought.

You Watched Me Burn My most popular one, a story on Bucky's life as a tattoo apprentice and his abusive boyfriend and boss, Brock Rumlow. Also a slow burn Stucky fanfic, this one is my longest and most supported fanfic so far. Summary: Bucky knows Brock may not seem like the best boyfriend or mentor, but he’s the best Bucky deserves. Brock cares about him. Their love hurts because their love is real. Brock didn’t have to take Bucky under his wing as a tattoo apprentice. And he certainly didn’t have to agree to date him. But he did. Because he cares. And Bucky will cling to whatever scraps of love he can get from the man. Falling Upwards A short one-shot fanfic about Clint Barton's first manic episode. It includes in depth descriptions of how his symptoms spiral out of control and how psychosis and hallucinations affect him. Summary: Clint’s mind buzzed as he went to work. He turned on music to drone out the voices calling his name. And then he closed the windows to avoid the faces that stared at him. They weren’t real. They were just his mind playing tricks on him. Trying to keep him from being productive. It was just his hyperactive imagination.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Only You

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x Reader

Word Count: 1277

Summary: After a long day at work Brock comes home to you and a romantic night that you planned.

Warnings: Smut, Oral (Fem) and fingering

A/N: Thank you to my beta readers @pigwidgeonxo & @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @music-culture-mythology (any mistakes on spelling & grammar are my own)  Divider by @firefly-graphics​

A/N 2: This has been something I’ve been meaning to write for a long time. Thank you @americasass81​ for encouraging me to write this when I wasn’t sure.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Tonight you were going to surprise Brock with a relaxing night at home. You were making his favorite meal and brought out a bottle of wine you both loved in hopes it would lift his spirits. He had been in meetings all day at his job. You knew he was in a mood when you texted him something sweet and his response was “okay.” So here you were finishing up cooking like crazy in hopes of bringing a smile to his face. With dinner going to be ready in fifteen minutes, and him home around the same time, you headed upstairs to change quickly.

You peeled off your shirt and leggings as you entered the closet. Looking through your lingerie you pulled out his favorite black lacy panties and matching bra. After you put them on you grabbed his favorite sundress that you wore just for him. As you pulled it over your head you went to look in the mirror. Your hands brushed down the dress as you took yourself in. The light from the closet hit your ring finger making your wedding ring sparkle. Your eyes looked down at your wedding ring and you couldn’t help but smile. It has been two years since you both said “I do” and yet it still feels like just yesterday that you walked down the aisle. 

The headlights of the jeep that Brock drove pulled into the driveway and you briskly walked down the stairs to the kitchen just as the timer was going off. As you pulled the meal out of the oven, in walked Brock from the garage. 

“You have perfect timing babe.” You placed the dish on top of the oven.

“Smells delicious, sweetheart.” Brock walked over to you and kissed your lips. He continued to the sink and quickly washed his hands. Once he cleaned up you both served yourselves in the kitchen and brought your plates to the dining room. You sat next to one another and made small talk while you ate. 

“This is delicious, sweetheart.” Brock complimented in between bites. If there was one thing he enjoyed, it was your cooking. Of course, there were other things he enjoyed a lot more and the thought of it had your thighs pressing together. Watching you bite your bottom lip he chuckled. “What’s my wifey thinking of? Hmmm? Care to share?”

Your cheeks heat up as you almost choked on air from him calling you out. “I was, ummm, just thinking of you and me. How I want you to take me apart with your tongue.”

“Already thinking about dessert? Good thing I have an appetite ‘cause I could feast between your legs all night.” Brock licked his lips as he stood from the table, gently grabbed your hand, and kissed you before pulling you up to lead you to the living room. You held his hand as he walked you to the couch and made you stand in front of it. “Let’s see what’s under this pretty dress.” Brock helped the dress off you and left you in your lingerie. He let out a low groan at the sight of you. 

“God, you are gorgeous.” He guided you to sit on the couch but as he knelt in front of you the sight of him on his knees made yours buckle. Brock caught you and rested you on the couch. 

You’re his guiding light when his nights seem the darkest. Only you could excite him and fill his heart full of love. Seeing you in his favorite lingerie made his cock ache for you. Whether you admitted it or not you owned his mind, body, heart, and soul. You were his queen and he planned on treating you like one tonight. 

His hands pulled your bottom to the edge of the couch. His hands caressed you from your ankles to your thighs. Brock’s beard tickled your inner thigh as he kissed you everywhere except where you needed him most. Finally, his thumb ran up and down your clothed pussy causing you to whimper. He teased you with his finger as his lips continued to kiss your inner thighs.

“Baby, please. I-I need you,” you begged for him. 

“So impatient.” He nipped at your inner thigh as his hands roamed up your thighs to where your underwear was, gently he slid them down your legs and brought them to his nose, inhaling the sweetness that awaited him. He dropped your underwear on the floor as he moved closer to where you needed him. His dark eyes gazed up at you as he licked a slow stripe up your wet channel. You let out a whine from his teasing but didn’t have to wait long before he was eating you out like it was his last meal on earth. Every flick of his tongue and gentle suckle of your clit had you about to come off the couch. Brock eased one finger, then two inside your wet pussy with ease. His fingers searched for that soft spongy spot inside you that would have you cumming in no time. As soon as his fingers found it you let out a loud moan as he fingered you with precision. Brock gently rubbed your clit with his other hand and within seconds you were cumming for him, moaning his name loudly. 

Brock let you come down from your high before he stood and removed his clothes. He pulled you to your feet, spinning you around, and took off the rest of your clothes before he gently pushed you to your hands and knees on the couch. He knelt behind you, slowly stroking his cock as he pushed in between your legs, getting himself covered in your arousal. The tip of his cock gently nudged your entrance a few times before he fully sank into you. You both let out a groan as you took every inch of him. 

With a roll of his hips, Brock started to take you apart. In and out, his pace was slow and easy but he knew this wasn’t what you wanted. You liked it a little rougher with him. So he gave you what you wanted, snapping his hips quicker into you as he thrust into you harder. Brock was pounding into you and you couldn’t help but throw your head back moaning to the heavens above. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room along with your moans and his deep grunts. Brock pushed between your shoulder blades making your upper body fall flat against the couch. The change in positions helped him hit deeper inside you and once again you could feel your orgasm building within you. 

“I can feel you gripping me tight, sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum for me.” Brock huskily said as he hit your g-spot over and over again. You let out a loud mewl as your body tensed up and you cummed for your husband. Brock wasn’t far behind you and within moments he was cumming deep inside you. He pulled out of you softly and slowly kissed your back. “How about we go upstairs for more dessert time?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “What about the rest of dinner?”

Brock ran his beard over your soft skin. “I had plenty to eat. Don’t want to spoil my appetite with anything else but you.” Brock stood from the couch and bent down to lift you in his arms. Together you made your way upstairs where the night was just beginning.

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[mandyyvibes]

For Reasons Wretched and Divine

Chapter 7: “It Will Come Back.”

But the moment its mask fell, the moment Rogers looked at it…

“Bucky?”

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

@catws-anniversary

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Breeding the Winter Soldier"

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 7893

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: a/b/o, Omega Bucky, Alpha Steve, Hydra wins, dark AU, forced mating, breeding program, coerced sex, restraints, heats/ruts, forced to fuck, past Bucky x Brock, HTP adjacent, mind control, anal sex, hurt/comfort (mostly comfort)

A.N.: this was written all the way back in 2017!

Breeding the Winter Soldier

“Looks like they gave Cap his assignment,” Rollins chuckles from where he’s sitting, boots propped up on the observation room’s control panel. “Doesn’t seem too happy about being told he’s gotta breed ‘im.”

Brock scoffs lightly, unable to help himself from lighting up out of frustration as he stares through the one-way glass window at their prisoner. Smoking isn’t allowed inside the facility, but that’s never stopped Brock. “This is bullshit,” he complains around the cigarette between his lips, tossing the spent match to the floor as he gets a good first lungful of nicotine. Beyond the window, Captain fucking America—or what used to be Captain America— is pacing, pacing, pacing, distressed at the news. Brock seethes quietly. “Project Genesis is mine. He was supposed to be mine.”

And now Steven Grant Rogers is the one they want instead. The superior choice, apparently, for siring little super-soldiers. Brock had broken whatever he’d been holding when he’d first heard the order come down—a coffee mug, he thinks it was. The order strictly reassigned him as handler only to the asset, the one to supervise the project. Supervise. Brock cringes at the restriction of the word. He’s been the asset’s commanding officer for going on five years now. Unofficially, he’s been his alpha for two. He’s the one who knows the asset, understands him. He’s the only one who knows how to make him work right, how to get through to him. He’s the one who cares about him, who satisfies him through his heats. And now Hydra is forcing him to give that all away?

His mate is going to be so confused.

Rollins tells him to chill. “I’m sure they’ll still let you fuck around with him once he’s pupped a few litters.”

“That’s not the fucking point!” Brock roars, angry but not at Rollins. Jack seems to know this, as he doesn’t move at all from his lazy posture in the chair. “He’s my omega. I’m perfectly capable of breeding him, if that’s what they want.”

Rollins shrugs. “You ain’t got that super soldier sperm.”

“Captain. Hail Hydra.”

Steve looks up from where he’s been eating his breakfast and frowns at the sight of Rumlow. It’s strange and upsetting to see people that he knew from before. People who he’d thought were the good guys. Brock looks the same as he did a year ago. Same haircut, same face, same tactical gear that he used to wear when he was on Shield’s Strike team, when he was Steve’s friend. Only now there is no Shield, and there are no friends. Now they all belong to Hydra whether they want to or not.

“Hail Hydra,” Steve mumbles into the cold milk of his cereal.

“Gotta come with me, Cap,” Rumlow tells him. “Today’s the day.”

Steve looks up at him, eyes angry and tired. “I’m not doing it,” he says. He’s fucking not doing it. They can’t make him.

“I’m not in the mood for this today.” Rumlow calls in the four guards that he’s brought with him and has them stand there with their stun batons as a warning for Steve. Before, they never would’ve been enough to keep him subdued. But that was before. Steve knows it’ll be no use trying to fight them off. He lets his spoon drop into the cereal bowl.

They take him down to the wing where they keep Bucky, to a room with a bed, a minifridge and an exam chair. It’s a heat suite, where they intend to force him to do this, Steve supposes. Bucky’s not there. There’s a tech waiting for them and when Steve lays eyes on the prepped syringes he tenses, tries to turn around. He winds up with a stun baton jammed to his neck and the next thing he knows he’s restrained in the chair. The tech is bringing a needle over and Steve pulls with all his might against the mag restraints. They don’t budge. “Relax,” Rumlow says. He’s standing beside Steve. “It’s just something to help you.”

“Help me how?” Steve asks, afraid. He’s already drugged up six ways to Sunday. Drugs to keep him weak, drugs to keep him dazed, drugs to keep him calm. If he didn’t heal so rapidly his inner arms would look like pincushions by now. The injections erase who he is, erase any possibility of a fight, let alone an escape. He doesn’t want any more injections.

“Something to kickstart your rut,” Brock says. He points to the other needles, one by one. “An aphrodisiac. A benzo to lower your inhibitions. Hormones to increase the chances of conceiving.”

Steve sneers. “I’m not doing it. I’m not hurting him.”

“You sure as hell better not,” Brock tells him, and there’s something about the way that he says it that has Steve paying closer attention. Steve takes notice of how tense Rumlow seems, upset almost. He smells the sour tint of possessiveness rolling off of him. “He’s mine,” Brock says. It’s obvious he’s not talking about his role as Bucky’s handler.

Steve squints for a moment. “…No,” he says, eyes widening. Rumlow smirks when he sees that Steve is finally figuring it out. “You’ve had him.”

“Wow. Took you long enough Cap. Thought you would’ve at least smelled him on me, all the times I fucked him before passing you in the hall.”

Steve grits his teeth, fury building in him in a way that he didn’t think was possible, not with all of the mood stabilizers Hydra’s got him on. “You fucking raped him?!” The tech comes over and jabs Steve while he’s distracted, not that he can move much in the restraints anyway. The needle stings going in, but the anger coursing through him is worse than the cold flush of medicine through his veins.

Brock looks at Steve with contempt. “I’m his handler. He hasn’t been raped since I started caring for him.”

Steve pants in his seat, feeling his temperature start to climb as the drugs work into his system. “Is that what you call it?” he sneers. “You think you’re taking care of him?”

“I know you’re not happy about this,” Brock tells him. “But let me tell you something: neither am I.”

“What are you talking about?”

Brock tells the tech to get out of the room. He orders the AI system that they stole from Stark Industries to stop monitoring them. Once they’re all alone he tells Steve, “He’s mine, Rogers.” Steve growls at him and that makes Rumlow roll his eyes. He drags a stool over to sit right in front of where Steve is restrained. “What you’re participating in? It’s called Project Genesis.”

“Yeah, trying to make baby supersoldiers, I get it,” Steve snaps. “I’m not doing it.”

“It’s the only fucking reason you’re alive right now,” Brock tells him. “And it’s the only reason he’s not gathering dust in some cryo vault.”

Steve can’t suppress his frown. “What?”

Brock sighs. “You’ve both been decommissioned. Hydra is a major world power now. One or two enhanced assets aren’t worth our time anymore. An army of supersoldiers, however, is. That’s what he’s still useful for.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Yeah? How do you think I feel?” Brock snaps. “I was the one who was supposed to breed him. Was working on it just fine till they brought you in. I’m sure you think he’ll be happy to see you but let me tell you, he won’t.” Brock can smell the change coming over the other alpha, can smell his body ramping up for a rut. Beneath the scent of sex hormones is the sour tinge of chemicals. It makes Brock want to curl his nose and bare his teeth in a challenge, or maybe turn away to escape the smell altogether. “He doesn’t know you Cap, and you’re just going to scare him if you come at him acting like he should be glad to see you.”

Steve glares at him. “He does remember me. He knew me on the helicarrier.” Bucky had known him. He had.

But Brock shakes his head. “No. He only has bits and pieces Rogers. He’s my omega. I bonded to him years ago.”

Steve growls and pulls at his restraints again. “No!”

“Calm the fuck down!” Brock leans in closer. He looks mad. Smells mad too. “This isn’t about you or me. It’s not up to us. Do you think I’d let you touch him if it was?”

“He’s not yours,” Steve grits out. “And I’m not going to touch him.”

Brock huffs. “You wait till those drugs kick in, you’ll be singing a different tune.” He looks at Steve seriously. “And just so you know, he’s already in heat.”

Steve’s eyes widen at that. “What?”

“Yeah. He’s hot and aching and he knows what his mission is. He’s not going to fight it,” Brock says. “But he’s expecting me. He’s expecting someone that he knows to help him feel better. And he’s going to be confused when I bring him in here and tell him that he has to let another alpha fuck him. A stranger. So I need for you to calm down. I don’t want him scared. You and I are going to talk to him together and you’re going to be gentle with him.”

Steve can feel arousal building in himself, and it’s strange to feel that while he’s sitting there next to Rumlow, being told all of this. The chemically-induced rut is coming on fast. “Shit,” he curses, head falling back to the chair behind him. He can feel himself firming up beneath the thin cotton of his sleep pants and he hates that he can’t hide it from Rumlow. “I can’t do this. Please don’t make me do this.”

“Get it together Cap,” Rumlow snaps, unhappy.

“Fuck you!” Steve spits.

Brock sighs. “I was hoping you’d shut up but I can see that’s not going to happen. He crosses the room only to return with a gag in his hands. He forces Steve’s jaw open and presses the ball gag in, saying nothing about the fight Steve puts up. Once it’s secured and Steve is heaving angry breaths at him, Brock says, “I’m going to get him now. If you care about him at all you won’t make this worse for him than it has to be.” He gets up and leaves through the room’s only door and Steve is forced to wait long minutes, panting and sweating at the oncoming rush of a forced rut.

The asset is relieved when its handler comes to retrieve it. It entered its heat hours ago and has had to wait, alone and aching, in the little room. “Come on James,” the handler says when the asset stands from its little cot, and the asset remembers that this is supposed to be its name. He’s never heard it before—not from anyone besides his handler. It's probably invented, but he likes that he uses it. Even if it’s made up, it’s something special between just the two of them.

Now they’ll go to the other room, the one where they always go when he is to be bred. James looks forward to it because he knows it’ll make him feel better. Brock (that’s his handler’s name. He’s allowed to use it when they’re alone) will give him everything he needs, will knot him and hopefully fill him with pups. That’s their mission. So far they’ve been unsuccessful but the asset thinks it’s because his heats used to be so unpredictable. Now he’s been out of cryo long enough that he’s cycling regularly again, his body ready for a pregnancy.

The asset has never thought about reproducing. An assassin doesn’t think of such things, a weapon certainly doesn’t. But James does. James doesn’t mind his new mission. He hasn’t told his handler, but he secretly prefers serving Hydra this way over what he used to do. This way he doesn’t have to go into the cold. And they don’t wipe him. And there’s someone who cares for him—his alpha. Deep down, he secretly likes the idea of having a baby, something that’s his that isn’t garbage or government-issued. Something that’s all his. He doesn’t tell his handler about this either.

They enter the other room and there is someone else there. It’s a man, an alpha. He’s restrained and in rut, that much is clear right away. The asset is nearly knocked back by the abrupt smell of him. Brock notices and laughs, reaching to grab him by the arm and pull him closer. “Easy babe.”

The asset scans his eyes over the man on the chair. He’s big. Tall and muscled, with blond hair and handsome features. He’s clearly upset. He struggles against his bonds as they approach, making useless sounds through the gag in his mouth. The asset looks questioningly at Brock. “Who is he?” He’s not really supposed to ask questions unprompted, but over time he’s learned that it’s okay with his handler, with Brock.

“His name is Captain Rogers,” Brock says. “Former SHIELD operative. He’s an enhanced like you are.”

The asset nods. He was unaware that there were others like himself. There used to be a program, but it had failed. He can remember helping, being tasked with training a group of men and women to make them stronger, better. But they’d gone wild and had been eliminated. The mission had failed.

“We have new orders,” Brock tells him, and this is when he takes his hand, squeezes it reassuringly. James purrs at the contact, moves to begin removing his clothes as is expected of him. But Brock stops him. “Wait, babe.”

The man in the chair growls at the pet name and James whines. He doesn’t want the other alpha to be there. He wants to be naked, in a bed, under his mate. “I’m hot,” he points out. “I need to get undressed.”

“You can,” Brock tells him. He pets the side of James’ face. “But I’m not going to be here with you.”

The asset frowns in confusion. “What?” He doesn’t understand. This is the breeding room. James is in heat. It’s their mission—they’ll be punished if they don’t complete it. The asset tilts his head, baring his neck, trying to show his alpha how ready he is. “Alpha please,” he whines. He’d hit the floor and present if not for the other alpha in the room. “I’m in heat. I need it.”

Brock shushes him, gentles a hand down his side. It feels good but it’s not nearly enough. “I know baby, I know. You’ll get a knot, just not mine.” The asset is confused again, but only for a second. His eyes dart over to where the other alpha is bound. Brock sees this and he nods, “Yeah baby, you’re going to mate with him.”

“What?” A low noise of distress leaves James’ throat, unbidden. He’s not supposed to make noises like that. But Brock never punishes him for such mistakes, not when it’s just the two of them. “No. You’re supposed to do it. You’re my mate,” he says, feeling scared. He’s not supposed to argue with directions. “Alpha?” he says, trying to press his nose into Brock’s neck, trying to ignore the other man in the room. “The mission,” he urges. “Breed me. Put pups in me.”

But Brock just kisses his temple and sets him back firmly. “Sorry babe,” he says. “It’s orders.”

Steve tries to speak through the gag but of course it’s no use.

He is forced to sit there and watch as Rumlow comes into the room with Bucky, holding his hand, for Christ’s sake. Bucky doesn’t seem to mind at all. He makes a pleased sound whenever Brock touches him, and when he calls him pet names. Steve feels his guts lurch at the obvious show of affection between them. He feels jealously flare up in his core like a rabid animal, wanting to kill the other alpha for touching Bucky, for trying to claim the omega that should be his.

That, he knows, is his rut talking. It’s gotten worse in the past ten minutes since Brock left him here, tied to the exam chair and gagged. Steve’s skin itches and his pulse throbs. Between his legs, he’s hard. And now that Bucky has come into the room, now that Steve can smell him, it’s so much worse. Bucky smells like damp, cloying earth. He smells like dark, cramped spaces and tangled up bodies. He smells like something Steve wants to bury his face in and not come up for air from. Steve takes one look at him and feels the urge to chase him, catch him, pin him down come unbidden. All he can do is wiggle ineffectively in his bonds.

In front of him, Brock is telling Bucky that he has to mate with Steve. Steve’s heart clenches when Bucky looks over to him, tense and afraid. His eyes do not hold recognition. Steve listens as Bucky pleads and whines to Brock, calling him his alpha, begging him to breed him instead. And Brock fucking comforts him, pets him and gives him a kiss and tells him it’s okay. Bucky looks like he never wants to leave Brock’s side. Steve clenches his eyes shut at the sight.

“Rogers.”

Steve’s eyes open. Brock is standing right in front of him. Bucky is still hanging back, looking unsure. “You see?” Brock says, and he’s not bragging or gloating or anything. He’s just trying to get Steve to listen. “He’s used to being with me, Cap. He doesn’t know you. Now are you gonna behave if I take that gag out? Not going to upset him?”

Steve glares at Rumlow, but after a moment manages a terse nod. The gag gets removed, and Steve takes a moment to swallow the spit in his mouth, lick his lips and crack his jaw. “Thanks,” he grunts, not feeling at all thankful.

Rumlow nods, chucks the gag away. “I’m not going to let you up from that chair yet,” he tells Steve. “That I’ll do remotely, once I’m out of the room.”

Steve sneers. “What? You afraid to be alone with me?”

Brock raises his eyebrows. “First of all, I’m not alone.” He nods back to Bucky. “I’ve got him. Don’t let his role in our breeding program fool you; he’s still perfectly capable of ending a man with his bare hands. If I give him the order to, that is. Secondly, I’m not going to let you out of that chair while I’m in the room because you’re in rut. A rut that we chemically engineered to match his heat. You’re geared up to attack any alpha that comes near him.”

Steve scoffs. “I’ve got better control than you, animal.”

Brock looks back at Bucky and calls him over, but he calls him James, and that rankles Steve more than anything else yet. “Come here James,” Rumlow says. He holds out his arm and Bucky comes over obediently. “This is Steve. He’s not a big fan of mine, I’m sure you can tell.”

“Bucky,” Steve says urgently. “Bucky I’m not going to hurt you. Okay? Don’t worry.”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Bucky murmurs to Brock.

Brock glares at Steve. “I told you Cap. He doesn’t know any of that.” Brock pulls Bucky closer, encourages him to go up and touch Steve where he’s restrained to the chair. “Go ahead babe. You heard him: he won’t hurt you. Have a look at him.”

Bucky does. He inches closer until his leg hits the side of the chair. He reaches forward with careful fingers, as if Steve is a wild animal that might bite. Bucky’s eyes are cold and calculating as they pass over Steve, no recognition to them. Not like Steve wants. “He’s healthy,” Bucky murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to say it. “Strong.” Behind, Brock chuckles a little.

“Yeah he is. Don’t worry though. He won’t be rough on you.” Brock meets Steve’s eyes over Bucky’s head. “I have it on good authority. He’s going to be real gentle.”

Bucky doesn’t react to this, and Steve feels as if he can hardly breathe as Bucky continues to examine him. He touches Steve’s arms, his legs, his chest. Steve is still clothed, but the touches ramp up the desire that the drugs have kickstarted. In his pants, he’s hard as a rock. Bucky leans down and sticks his nose into Steve’s neck, scenting at the glands there. It’s all Steve can do not to moan where he’s sitting, all he can do not to try and thrust his hips up the way his body wants to. After a long inspection, Bucky seems to make up his mind about Steve. He stands back and away, looks to Brock. “He’ll sire good pups. I understand why he’s been chosen.” He nods once to show his obedience in the matter. “I’ll complete the mission.”

Brock smiles at him. “Good boy.”

“Buck you don’t have to do anything these sacks of shit tell you to—”

“Cap,” Rumlow warns, “That ain’t the way. He WILL do what we tell him to. And if you’re resisting, he’ll take you by force. That how you want this to go?”

Steve grimaces at the threat, imagining the absurdity of Bucky raping him. “He should have a choice,” Steve tells Rumlow darkly, hating the man with every fiber of his being. “Does this make you proud?” he asks. “Treating him like a thing? Violating him?” Steve forces himself to meet Rumlow’s eyes in an imploring manner. “You said that you mated him. If that’s true, is this really what you want for him?”

Rumlow shakes his head, looks at Steve as if he’s incredibly thickheaded. “You just don’t get it, do ya Cap?” He walks over, takes a hold of Bucky’s neck and pulls him in for a deep kiss. Steve watches the display with horror, especially once Bucky brings both of his hands up to cradle Rumlow’s jaw. Brock pulls away from Bucky, their lips separating with a pop, and he glares at Steve. “This isn’t about ‘want’. It’s about following orders.” With that he pushes Bucky up to stand close to Steve, turning away before either man can stop him. “Now just shut up, lay back, and get him pregnant,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks out the door.

James tries not to feel anything when his mate leaves the room. He tries to slip back into the mindset of the Asset, a place where feelings are irrelevant. Brock has explained the parameters of the mission, has given the soldier his orders. Now James will execute. He tips his ear towards the door, his enhanced hearing helping him to pick up on the sounds of many intricate locking mechanisms being set. He flicks his gaze back up to the body of the other man—the man they’ve chosen to sire his pups.

James wants to sneer, feels like maybe he does. He shuffles uncomfortably in place, wetness already growing sticky and cool where it’s seeped into the back of his pants. He wonders if Captain Rogers can smell it. Stepping close to the chair where he’s restrained, James examines the mag cuffs that hold him in place. They’re similar to the ones that his handlers use on him. It makes James wonder just how strong this man is. Brock had said he was enhanced. He tilts his head in curiosity.

“… Bucky—”

“Directive clarification,” James calls out to the room, ignoring whatever the Captain had been about to say to him. James doesn’t wait for a response; he knows they’re being watched. “Am I to mount him like this?” he asks, not particularly caring either way. He shouldn’t care about this stranger’s comfort during the act—he’s not Brock. The soldier has his orders and James has no choice. He has to do it. A quick glance shows him what he can already smell: Captain Rogers is fully erect beneath his clothing. On the chair or in a bed, he’ll be easy enough for James to take inside of his body. But a crackle comes through the speakers in the ceiling, echoing Brock’s voice into the room:

“Use the bed if you want. He’s been chemically subdued so he shouldn’t be able to put up much a fight. Releasing mag cuffs in three, two...”

In the next second the restraints on the chair click open, and James turns back in time to see Captain Rogers pulling his arms away from the chair. He sits up, swinging his legs over the side. His bare feet touch the floor but he remains perched on the chair’s edge. For the first time, James realizes that the Captain is dressed in sleeping clothes. A standard issue tee shirt and cotton pants are all he wears. “Bucky,” he says again, holding out an arm in James’ direction. It is unclear if the gesture is meant to beckon James closer or to keep him at bay. James is not unaware that, omega or not, he presents a threatening image to most men. With this in mind he narrows his stance, draws his shoulders down to seem as small and nonthreatening as possible. Hopefully this will keep the Captain from trying to do something as counterproductive as running, or fighting.

“I realize you don’t recognize me, but don’t be scared. I’m not going to hurt you. My name’s Steve.

James blinks at him. He takes stock of the situation. Captain Rogers—Steve—has been made aware of his role in the breeding program. He’s been given his orders just like James has, but he’s resisting. James can smell it on him, the warring scents of desire and disgust. James steps closer, tilting his head to the side once he’s just in front of him. “Smell that?” he asks, being sure to keep his eyes cast down. The Captain’s hands are clenched tightly by his sides as James bares his neck in a submissive gesture. “Come on,” he says as gently as he can. “Alpha?”

“Don’t,” Steve bites out. He sounds pained. “Don’t call me that Buck.”

James bites his cheek, thinking he may just have to use physical force if this man won’t listen. “You’re in forced rut,” he says, trying again. “That can’t feel good.”

Steve huffs an abortive laugh. “Yeah.”

“You’re flushed,” James tells him. There is perspiration all along the collar of Steve’s tee. “And you’re hot. Burning-up-inside hot. Believe me I know how it feels. When you’re so desperate that you’re miserable?” He reaches for the hem of his own shirt, pulls it quickly over his head. He knows that the movement makes his scent burst into the air. Now his top half is exposed and James has to hold in the sigh that wants to come at the relief of having that much less clothing on his body. He tosses his shirt aside. In front of him, Steve’s nostrils are flaring. “It doesn’t have to be like that,” he tells him, “You can have me. It’ll help.”

Steve’s fingers sink into the chair’s cushion, little bits of foam padding ripping out and falling to the floor. His scent is soaring—a deep, rich scent like copper and burnt wood. James grits his teeth at the sudden urge to drop and present. He slowly reaches out with his flesh hand and touches Steve’s thigh. “Why are you afraid?” he asks. It’d be nice to know. Everyone always seems to know more than he does…

“I can’t hurt you like this Buck. I just can’t.”

James shushes him, ignores the continued use of that nonsensical name, Bucky. “You won’t,” he soothes, pulling lightly at the fabric of Steve’s pants in an effort to get him to slide off the chair. “I’m in heat. I’m ready. It won’t hurt.”

Steve scoffs, but he does allow himself to be moved. Standing barefoot, they come eye to eye. “That’s not the kind of hurt I meant.”

James ignores the clench his heart gives as he thinks of Brock. He wonders if his alpha is watching from another room, observing them through a little camera. He hopes not. “Come here,” James says, pulling Steve forward. Steve’s hands find their way to his hips, and James feels more slick rush out of his body at the contact. He whimpers without meaning to. “Scent me,” he says, tilting his head again. He’s pressing up against Steve, their bodies connected from thigh to chest. He can feel the alpha’s erection and he’s certain that Steve can feel his. But that hardly matters as Steve releases an answering growl somewhere in his throat. His head dips down and he buries his nose in the crook of James’ neck. James’ breath leaves him in a satisfied puff. He’s been in heat for nearly twenty-four hours with no relief until now. He’d been expecting Brock, his mate, but the mission has changed.

His body has already decided for him, he realizes. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t Brock. Doesn’t matter that it’s a stranger who’s been selected to put pups in him. James’ body recognizes this Steve for what he is; a strong, virile alpha.

The Asset grabs Steve with his metal hand, pushing him towards the bed before the other man can protest.

Steve stumbles over his own feet, not having been prepared for the rough grab and push of Bucky’s metal arm. He falls gracelessly back onto the room’s bed with a grunt. Bucky doesn’t give him time to recover. He’s there in a flash, one hand planted in the center of Steve’s chest and the other yanking down his pants. Bucky tosses them to the floor and reaches for Steve’s shirt. But Steve isn’t having it. He grabs Bucky’s arms and attempts to fight him. They grapple for all of three seconds before Bucky has him pinned, and Steve is panting furiously. The drugs make him so much weaker than before. With Bucky’s metal arm in play he doesn’t stand a chance. Begging is all he’s got left, it seems. “Please,” he says, staring imploringly. “You don’t want to do this.”

Bucky ignores him completely. He rips Steve’s tee shirt down the front like it’s paper, pulls it off of him and throws it somewhere in the general vicinity of where the pants had gone. Leaning forward over Steve’s now-naked body, he gives a very un-omega like growl. “Stay down.” He stands up and divests himself of the boots he’s wearing, then his pants.

Of course Steve doesn’t listen. He manages to prop himself up by the time Bucky’s taking his underwear off, and the scent that hits Steve then is so strong it makes him clench his eyes shut. “Fuck.” He can’t look at Bucky, he can’t or he’ll lose his shit. The bed dips and Steve jerks as Bucky pulls him to lie down again, too much naked skin pressed up along his own. “Bucky, don’t—” He’s cut off by lips crashing down on his own. Bucky wastes no time in forcing his way, mouthing and biting at Steve to make him open up. His hands pull at Steve’s hair and he fucks his tongue lewdly into his mouth. A garbled noise that probably would have been a moan had it been allowed to form leaves Steve, his hands grabbing the first part of Bucky they can find—his hips. Steve pulls on Bucky, whether to bring him closer or push him away he’s not sure, but he winds up tugging the other man fully atop him, and the second Steve feels him start rolling his hips downwards, he’s lost.

Bucky breaks the kiss, pulling away. Steve opens his eyes to see the omega staring at him, eyes a hard grey. He’s still fucking downwards, rubbing himself off against the crest of Steve’s groin, and his breath has become harsh. “This is our mission,” he breathes, sounding rough and desperate. “We have to. You have to.”

Steve feels sickness rise up and mingle with the desperation of his rut again. “No.”

“Yes.”

Steve repeats the ‘no’ several times more as Bucky continues to writhe against him, but his hands don’t loosen their hold on Bucky’s hips, and he doesn’t try to push Bucky off of him. “I can’t.”

Bucky makes an angry sound in his throat and yanks Steve’s head back with the grip he has on his hair. It’s his metal hand and it hurts. “You don’t have a choice,” he says. Steve growls at the dominant gesture, his hindbrain urging him to put the omega in his place. But Bucky leans closer again. For a second Steve thinks he’s going to kiss him, but he doesn’t. He puts his lips to Steve’s ear, the dark length of his hair falling around them. “Don’t make me take it,” he whispers, sounding desperate. His hips have not stopped moving. “Please. Alpha. You’re supposed to give it to me. Take me. Don’t make me do it.”

Steve groans. There’s nothing worse that Bucky could have said. He’s in heat, and Steve’s in rut, and now he’s calling Steve Alpha and begging Steve to mate with him the way that he wants it; to take him the way an alpha should take their omega. Steve opens his eyes to find Bucky staring at him once again, only this time his eyes are soft and his brow is pinched—pleading. He looks more like the Bucky that Steve remembers, and Steve can’t ignore the urge within himself to make that pleading look go away, to satisfy.

He flips them over. The only reason he’s able to do it is because he takes Bucky completely by surprise. Bucky’s eyes go wide for a moment, assessing a threat, before he realizes the move for what it is and he relaxes and purrs. Steve doubts himself immediately. He brings his hands to Bucky’s face, pleased when he’s not pushed away and Bucky fucking bends his neck to expose himself. “Alpha,” Bucky whines, but Steve’s not having it.

“You listen to me,” he says angrily, using the last goddamn piece of himself that he has left to convey seriousness in his tone. Bucky stares at him obediently and Steve swallows. “They don’t wipe my memory, got it? You may not remember me, but I remember you. And I won’t hurt you. I hurt you, you have to tell me. If you want to stop, you tell me. Got it?”

James frowns, even in his lust-ridden brain he knows he does. This stranger—no, some distant and unreachable part of his mind corrects, not a stranger—Steve—is referencing the wipes, is telling him that they’ve met before. James can’t disprove such a claim. He wonders if this Captain Rogers was once his handler, or possibly a target. He wonders if “Bucky” was his call sign then. Steve is still staring intently at him, waiting for his answer, and James shakes his head to get the thoughts to go away. They’re not important, not relevant to the mission. If his promise is all the Captain needs, then it means nothing to James to give it. “You won’t hurt me,” he says again, thinking that the alpha above him is stupid to imagine that he could, but adds, “I’ll tell you if you do.”

That seems to settle it for Steve. He comes down and kisses James’ forehead, leaves his lips to linger there in a manner that makes James distinctly uncomfortable—as if they are old friends, or family even. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Turn over.”

James flips, never having obeyed an order so quickly. He tries to push himself up to present but with Steve’s heavy weight at his back he can’t do it. Behind, he can feel the alpha’s hardness pressing between his cheeks and it makes him whine needily. This may be a mission, but he’s still been left wanting and unfulfilled for close to going on twenty four hours now. There are no feelings of doubt or discontent with the situation that James needs to force down to be a good soldier. He’s allowed to want this, and he does. “Alpha,” he urges when Steve doesn’t move to penetrate him. “Please. Now, please.”

He can feel the exact moment when Steve gives in. His hands are clamped tightly on James’ wrists to keep him still, but when James nearly begs to be fucked it seems to push the alpha off whatever edge of hesitance he’s still managing to hang onto. James can feel Steve’s cock on his ass as he allows himself to thrust at last. The teasing slide is made easier by the slick that’s gathered there. James groans in frustration, rubbing his face into the bed and fairly suffocating himself as he waits for the other man to get on with it and get inside of him. He’s aching for it, for the stretch and pressure of an alpha’s cock, for a knot. He knows he’ll start yelling in a moment if Steve doesn’t DO SOMETHING.

But he does, and James doesn’t have to yell at him after all. Steve presses up onto his arms, the sweaty warmth of his chest leaving James’ back. He positions himself, bumping against James’ hole, and it’s a relief that he forgoes the unnecessary gesture of using fingers first—James is sure he would snap at him if he tried. Steve presses inside, entering him slowly but never stopping until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with James’ ass. It’s not hard to take him in. James’ body is slick and ready for it and he groans lowly into the bed at the sheer relief of it. “Yesss,” he hisses, and turns his head as much as he can to look back at Steve. The man looks about as gone for it as James feels, and a dark thrill shoots through him at the thought that he’s about to be taken just the way he wants to be. Fucked and bred just the way his body is crying out for. It may not be Brock, but James has decided not to think about that. All he can think about in his current state is Steve; the smell of him, the feel of him, even the sounds he makes, it all feels too perfectly satisfying. Maybe it has something to do with the barrage of drugs the techs had shot him up with yesterday. Maybe. He’s not supposed to care though, and he doesn’t. He tries to thrust his hips backwards, wanting movement and having no idea how the other man can bear to hold so still now that they’re connected. There’s nowhere to go with Steve pinning him down at the hips, but he knows the Alpha feels him squirming, recognizes it for the request that it is. “Move,” James says, sounding more demanding than a good omega should. “God just…”

Steve has a hand in his hair and his nose in his neck before James can finish the sentence. A very low growl, almost a feeling more than a sound, is coming out steadily from his chest. It makes goosebumps break out on James’ arms. “Are you telling me what to do?” Steve asks.

Against the bed, Bucky’s mouth splits in a smug grin. This is what he wanted, what Brock would’ve done. At the height of his heats, all the asset wants, all James wants, is to be taken. To be held down and owned. James strains to look back over his shoulder. The angle is awkward but he ignores it, fixing Steve with what he hopes is a challenging stare. If he has to goad the alpha into a more feral headspace to get things done, then by god that’s exactly what he’ll do. “I came here to get fucked, so yeah, I am. Move,” he bites out, hoping that it will spur Steve into action. It does. He pulls out, ignoring James’ cry of protest. His big hands slide down to his hips and he gets onto his knees behind him. James follows, pressing back and presenting. He can feel Steve’s hands pulling him apart, baring his hole. There is silence and James knows without having to look that Steve is just staring at him. The thought of it makes him shudder. He presses his face into the bedding and whines.

“God,” Steve exclaims softly, dragging a thumb across his leaking hole. “You’re soaked.”

James cannot stop whining low, needy omega sounds. Then he feels the blunt head of Steve’s cock at his entrance and he moans. “Yes,” he hisses, though it’s muffled against the sheets. He presses his ass back harder, and that causes Steve to pop inside of him. The alpha grunts in surprise, but then he’s right back to thrusting, this time faster. Just as deep though, and god, if that isn’t exactly what James wants. “Oh, hugn—oh!” The noises he’s making are obscene but James hardly notices. They seem to drive Steve on, his hips slapping harder each time he moans particularly loud.

It goes on like this until James reaches for his own cock. He only gets a couple of strokes in before Steve is knocking his hand away. James cries out indignantly but then Steve pulls out, flips him over and pushes right back in. He wraps his hand around James’ cock, hips working at the same pace as his hand. He’s staring down at James with a burning intensity, breath heavy with his efforts. “Mine,” he growls, giving a calculated twist on the upstroke.

James’ eyes roll back in his head. “Ugh, fuuck.” It’s incredible and nothing he’s used to. No alpha has ever done this for him before, always leaving it to him to take care of. He can hardly thrust into the grip very well when he’s being fucked as hard as he is, but damn if he doesn’t try. “Please,” he groans, grappling at Steve’s shoulders for something to hold onto. He hardly knows what he’s asking for. The alpha is sweaty above him and James’ hands glide over the muscles in his back. “Please, Steve,”

Steve’s eyes shoot to his at the use of his name. Something raw and more intense than what they’re doing now passes through them, and before James knows what’s happening he’s being kissed. It’s not gentle. It’s plying, and insistent, and needy. God, is it needy. Steve is kissing him like it’s the answer to something and all James can do is go along for the ride.

“Bucky,” Steve is grunting at him when he finally parts enough to speak. James knows he’s speaking to him, so he opens his eyes to the nonsensical name. He doesn’t really care what this man calls him, so long as he never stops. “Buck I’m gonna,” Steve tells him, brow sweaty and pinched. “I have to.”

James groans, feeling how true the alpha’s words are. His knot is growing, tugging more insistently with every thrust. When it feels like Steve might pull away at the last second, James wraps his arms and legs around him in a fierce hold. “No,” he begs. “Inside me. I need it.” He’s not thinking even a little bit about the mission now, only the ache inside him. It’s an ache only a knot will fix, and he whimpers this to Steve as he holds him. “Knot me. Alpha, please. Want to feel it. Fill me up. Breed me.”

Steve makes a filthy sound and shoves forward, groaning long and low into James’ ear. His knot catches, fully blown as he climaxes. His hand has stopped moving over James’ cock but it hardly matters now. He’s rocking his hips shallowly, pulling his knot taut against James’ rim, pulsating it over his prostate again and again and again. James doesn’t need anything else to make him come spectacularly.

“Why do you torture yourself like this?”

Brock doesn’t turn around from the observation window. He figures Rollins is just here to taunt him anyway. “Nobody asked you to come in here,” he says quietly, attention still fixed on the pair in the next room.

“Yeah well…” Rollins comes up and stands right next to Brock, eyes taking in the same sight. “I was curious.” When Brock says nothing, he adds, “Looks like they’re finished.”

Brock scoffs and turns abruptly from the window, putting his back to it. “They’re not fucking finished.” Idiot, he wants to add. He scrubs his hands over his face and it occurs to him that he needs to shave. “That was just round one.” Brock doesn’t know about Rogers, but he is intimately familiar with his own omega’s stamina during a heat. “They’ll be in there for a good two days at least.”

“And you’re just going to stand here and watch?” Rollins rolls his eyes. “Stupid.”

“I can’t do anything else,” Brock snaps, irritated at his friend. “You’ve never been bonded. You wouldn’t understand.”

“No?”

“No.” He sighs. “You think what? It’s just jealousy?” He shakes his head. “I could handle that. But this… It’s like a physical ache.” He turns slightly to glance through the window again, thinks better of it, and turns back around. “Can’t stand it.”

“Can’t do anything to change it.” Rollins points out. “You never should’ve gotten so close. He’s just a thing, and at the end of the day he’s Hydra’s thing, not yours.”

“Yeah.” Brock really doesn’t have it in him to argue that point. He wants to, but he doesn’t. It isn’t like he doesn’t wish he could set the poor SOB free. But that’s never going to happen, and playing house with his bonded for the last six months has just been wishful thinking. “They still going at it?” he asks, unwilling to turn around and look again. He wasn’t exactly getting off on the sight before.

Rollins looks. “Naw. Resting.”

Brock grits his teeth, can’t keep the image of that goddamn super soldier, tied to his mate, out of his head.

“You think it’ll take?”

“Christ Rollins, you just don’t quit. Of course it will.” Pretty soon he’ll have to see the soldier, heavy with a litter of his pups. He hates it. Hates it more than anything.

Rollins shrugs and claps a hand onto Brock’s shoulder. “Don’t stay in here.” Another glance back. “He’s obviously not going to hurt ‘im. Leave them to it. Come and have a drink with me.”

Brock looks at Rollins then and really considers him. He calls him his friend, but the truth is the two of them are just the same as the Winter Soldier—property of Hydra. It’s taken years for him to realize it, but it’s true. Still, Rollins is offering him a drink now, and even more than that, a temporary escape. It’s the closest thing to friendly Brock’s ever gotten from the other man, and he figures it’s the best he’s going to get for a while. He might as well go. Because Rollins is right; he never should have gotten so close.

Brock sighs and nods at Rollins. Tells him, “Yeah. Yeah I think I will.”

Masterlist

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[six-demon-bag]

[lavenderpanic]

@chaos-and-ink your drawing gave me such an itch to sketch this out before I go to sleep. He's just so perfect in big, soft sweaters

[thebrooklynnway]

"Steve could never resist the allure of Brock Rumlow when his scent is so heavy and thick with arousal, but it doesn’t quell his irritation that he hasn’t seen his mate in months."

TITLE: when morning comes too soon WORD COUNT: 1577 RATING: Explicit WARNINGS: None SHIP: Steve Rogers/Brock Rumlow ADDITIONAL TAGS: Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Omegaverse, Alpha Brock Rumlow, Omega Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Top Brock Rumlow, Bottom Steve Rogers, Reunion Sex, PWP, Conflicted Feelings, Sad Ending

**A/N: Dropping in to promote my newest fic, that I’m surprisingly very happy with, and I hope you are too. 🥰

• @catws-anniversary • @marvelrarepairbingo - [card: 091] n3 free space • @multifandom-flash - [omegaverse] exhaustion

[buckyalpine]

Pretty Little thing Part 2

18 + Minors dni

Mob!Bucky x f reader, Rumlow x reader (forced marriage) A/N: Decided to break this into parts, protective mob bucky to the rescue, Rumlow can go choke. Please reblog, like and comment! 

Warnings: ANGST, forced marriage, abuse, swearing, FLUFF

Word count: 2k

Part 1 here

Rumlow barged into your room, grabbing you roughly by your hair, forcing you to look at him, his breath hot on your face, reeking of liquor.

“You want him?!”

You whimpered in pain as he continued to tug. He had never touched you before, this was the first time. You tried to shake your head in confusion but his grip on got tighter.

“You know who you stupid bitch, you took your time feeling him up, staring at him like a cock hungry whore”

Tears formed in the corners of your eyes, streaming down your face as you tried to answer.

“No! I-”

“SHUT UP” Rumlow let go of you as you fell to your knees, shaking as he began to pace around the room. “You are my wife. You only look at me like that, no someone else. I’ve been patient with you, letting you live your little fantasy, giving into all your stupid little needs.  You will give me what I want or the deal is over. You and your family can enjoy a new home 6 feet underground”

With that he walked out, leaving you sobbing on the floor.

The next morning, you sat at the edge of your bed holding ice to your bruised knees, freezing when you heard the door creak open.

“I’m leaving on business” Rumlow said coldly, his eyes emotionless as he stared at you. “You don’t need to come. Don’t leave the house until I’m back”

“I-I have dinner r-reservations..” Your voice was barely above a whisper, trembling wondering if he would forbid you from going, though you had told him about the plans earlier.

“For what?” He glared at you, daring you to answer.

“M-my cousin. I was going to see her…I told you a little while ago but maybe you f-forgot” You stared at the floor, frozen in place. Up until yesterday he had never touched you. You felt your stomach knot, knowing that wouldn’t be the last time. 

“Fine. Walker will accompany you” He wasn’t allowing you to go out of the kindness of his heart. Ever since he married you, he had managed to secure more business deals, his reputation improving because others thought he changed into a family man. If anyone caught wind of how things really were, he would have to bury you and play the role of a weeping widower to maintain his new image. He didn’t have time for that just yet, so he reluctantly agreed.

You arrived at the restaurant, sipping your wine at the bar, happy to have a night for yourself. You did make plans to see your cousin there but she wasn’t going to be able to make it, something you knew the same day you discussed going out. However it had been ages since you were allowed to go anywhere by yourself so you kept the reservation hoping to have a night of peace. Minus Rumlow’s left testicle Walker lurking somewhere in an alleyway getting blown off. God all it took was something breathing with boobs to grab his attention to fuck away from watching you.

You had spent the evening doing your makeup and hair, going for a sultry look you’d never wear around the unneutered hound you had for a husband. You slipped on a slightly more daring dress, the dark green material hugged your body perfectly, showing off your legs with a high slit on the side.

Bucky’s eyes hadn’t left you ever since you walked in. He sat the bar with Steve and Sam, discussing upcoming shipments but his mind was glitching as he watched your tongue dart out to catch a drop of wine dripping off your lips. Those sweet soft lips.

“Well I can see why you’re so fucked, she’s sexy” Sam smirked, watching his friend gaze at you with heart eyes. “Man you got it bad”

“Shut up” Bucky groaned. He knew he wasn’t supposed to look at you that way; you were married albeit it wasn’t something you were happy with. Still, he couldn’t help it. Your dark makeup enhanced your eyes; your skin was glowing under the dim lights of the bar.

Steve shook his head, throwing his napkin at Bucky’s head to snap him out of his trance. “Enough ogling you punk”

Bucky shot Steve a glare, mostly because he felt like he was being interrupted from admiring artwork. That’s what you were. “I’m not ogling, I’m admiring”

“Sure”

You turned around, hearing a very familiar voice nearby, your eyes meeting with Bucky’s. You immediately looked away, warmth spreading across your cheeks, your heart racing.

He was handsome. So fucking handsome. His dark chestnut hair contrasted nicely with his tan skin. His lips were perfect, pink and soft. His beard made him look so….soft and fluffy. He dressed casually, different from the suit you had seen him in the first time you met. He had on a tight black shirt and pants, his dark grey metal arm you hadn’t noticed before, glowed under the soft lights. Everything about him was beautiful and God what the fuck were you thinking. Stop. You sighed, brining your glass to your forehead hoping the coolness would ease some of your nerves.

“Doll?” Against his better judgement, Bucky made his way to you, his own heart racing with the scent of your soft perfume. Steve rubbed his temples, wishing he could put Bucky on a leash until he was trained to keep it in his pants. Though he also knew this went beyond your beauty. You were trapped with a monster and Bucky wanted to set you free.

“Hi Mr. Barnes”, You smiled shyly, your eyes focused down on your glass, fear gnawing at the back of your mind knowing you’d be in trouble if Rumlow found out.

“You don’t have to call me Mr. Barnes y/n, just James is fine” Bucky smiled softly at you, before his eyes hardened as he saw the bruises on your knees, his hands balled into fists. He wished he could whisk you away in his arms, protect you from people that hurt you. Bucky nodded at the hostess at the front signaling for her to clear the restaurant. You looked around wide eyed as everyone began to leave. A cool hand on your knee stopped you from getting up.

“Its okay, I asked them to leave. It’s just us now” Your eyes darted across the now empty restaurant, then back at Bucky, panic written across your face. “Doll it’s okay”

You looked at the exit, relaxing a bit when you saw Steve and Sam guarding the doors, preventing anyone from entering.

“Y/n….” Bucky spoke softly as you gazed up at him, feeling yourself getting lost in his eyes again. “Did he do this to you?”

You sat motionless, unsure of if you should lie or tell him the truth.

“No, I just had a fall, I spilled something and I-”

“Y/n don’t…”

“I-I, he didn’t, I f-fell-” You stumbled over your words, gasping at the feeling of a cool hand wiping away tears you didn’t notice spill onto your cheeks. You bit your lip, holding back the sob that was threatening to slip out. Bucky gently stroked your arm, fearing hugging you would over step, using all of his restraint not to pull you in his arms.

“I’m so scared” your voice came out a whisper as your composure fell apart. You let yourself fall onto Bucky’s chest, clutching his shirt as sobs began to wrack your body. Bucky didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, holding you tightly while stroking your hair, already planning on setting up an appointment for Rumlow to meet Satan, that fucker wasn’t going to heaven. Bucky rocked you, as you continued you cling onto him never wanting to leave the safety of his arms.

“Come with me doll” Bucky pulled back taking your hand, leading you to a private room at the back of the restaurant. It was softly lit with a large couch that sat in front of a fireplace and plush rug that covered the floor. The space was cozy, like something out of a fairy tale.

Bucky led you to the couch as he started the fire, smiling to himself over your quizzical face. He turned around surprised to find you seated on the rug leaning against the couch.

“Why are you on the floor” he chuckled before taking a seat beside you.

“I like sitting on the floor, its more…comfy” You blushed down at your hands, fiddling with the large stupid ring that reminded you of your fate.

Bucky bit his lip, you were so fucking adorable, how anyone would have the heart to mistreat you, he couldn’t understand.

“I thought you’d feel more comfortable here,” Bucky took a breath before continuing “Does he hurt you y/n?”

You stared at the fire, as your eyes watered. “No. At least not until now” you whimpered, curling you legs in to make yourself small and ground yourself.

Bucky remained silent, not wanting to upset you further draping his arm over you. Your body began moving faster than your mind could comprehend as you crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around him. You missed his soft strong touch, the way his arms made you feel secure. In the torturous months you had been married, Rumlow’s touches and holds had been possessive. There was no softness or warmth; only lust and desire to keep you. You craved to be held, loved, to feel something again. You felt it again with Bucky.

Bucky rubbed your back, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Tell me something that makes you smile”

“What?” You looked up at Bucky confused as he smiled down at you, brushing your hair away from your face.

“What makes you smile doll?”

You giggled, fuck he wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life.

“I like…animals?”

“and what else?”

“Flowers. Like pink peonies. I love books, I really like chocolate, the ones that are also crunchy. I looove pasta”

“Keep going” Bucky felt his heart flutter as your face brightened, your eyes sparkling. He noticed dimples on your cheeks that he never saw before, this being the first time your smile met your eyes.

“I love blankets, fuzzy socks. I really love the smell of lavender. Oh! I also really love….” You stopped, a blush spreading across your cheeks before you finished your sentence.

“What is it doll”

“No, you’ll think I’m weird or too old”

Bucky shook his head, urging you to continue.

“I liked stuffed animals. Not in a weird way! I just think they’re so adorable and soft. I also really like drawing, but I’m not good at it, I just li-

Bucky’s lips cut you off, as his hands moved to cup your face, holding you close to him. You froze before melting into the kiss, letting your arms wrapping around his waist.

Bucky’s mind caught up with what he was doing, breaking away and sitting back to create some distance between you both. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that”

You shook your head, moving back as your body screamed to go closer, feel his touch again.

“I- its okay” You smiled softly, settling beside him not wanting to leave the safety of the room. You felt anxiety creep its way up at the thought of going home, something Bucky immediately noticed.

“Doll are you okay? I’m so sorry I over stepped, I shouldn’t’ have-”

“I don’t want to leave” Bucky’s heart melted at your words. “Please?” You looked at him with pleading eyes; you just wanted to stay in his arms where it felt safe.

Your eyes darted around the room as you suddenly realized it was getting late. “I- will they close soon? I don’t- won’t the owner be upset?” You shifted nervously as Bucky rested a hand on top of yours.

“We can stay here all night doll, Stark won’t mind”

*** Brock glared at his phone screen of the image he received from Walker of you sipping on your wine glass, no cousin in sight. The dress exposed all of the curves you never showed him, your makeup done as you dolled yourself up for others. The screen cracked under his grip and he began to wonder what else you did that night.

-

Part 3 

[e-dubbc11]

Imagine being Rumlows roommate (he just has one because I said so 🤣) and one day you catch him coming out of his room like this:

First little peak you get of his body, but boy does it do things to you. And by each day it gets harder and harder to resist the attraction 😏

My lovely Lily, this has been sitting in the back of my brain since you sent it in. This is sort of a roommate situation. I hope what you like what I did here. Thank you for the ask my love! ♥️

Starting Over

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Smut! (18+ please or else I’m telling on you!) Oral F! Receiving, fingering, unprotected P in V sex(be safe out there), Drinking

Word Count: 4.5K-ish

Summary: After a bad breakup, you needed to have a fresh start but after getting a new job and selling your house, you forgot one important thing…a new place to live. Luckily a friend of yours might have a solution.

A/N: I haven’t written any smut in awhile so I think I’m a little rusty. Please be gentle and I hope you like it. I know there was something else I wanted to put in here but my brain fog has been so bad lately, I can’t remember what it is

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Why can’t she just stay with you?” Brock asked, the tone of his voice was elevated and raspy.

Frustrated, Jack replied. “You know I only have a studio and she should have her own space. It won’t be for very long, I promise. She’s looking for a place to live as we speak.”

You did leave home rather hastily but your break-up had been tough. Even though you tried moving on, your ex just kept popping up everywhere you went and it appeared that HE had no problem moving on, showing off his younger piece of ass every chance he got. So for your sanity, you had to move on and move out of your hometown.

It was hard to watch so you just decided not to subscribe to that channel anymore. You stayed long enough to sell your house and find a new job in a new city. You wanted a fresh start and Jack was the only person you knew that lived in D.C.

He was a childhood friend from high school and you had been on a couple of dates with him while in school but it just worked out where you just ended up being really good friends.

Brock seriously considered saying no but Jack caught him on a good day. He felt a little bad for you that you felt like there was no other way to move on with your life except to leave town.

“Ok, fine but you owe me, Rollins!” Brock said.

Jack felt a sense of relief as he let out a long exhale.

“Thanks Rumlow, I really, really appreciate this. I’ll bring her by later.” Said Jack.

The call ended and Brock placed both hands on the counter, hung his head so his chin touched his chest, and took a deep breath. He wondered if he was going to regret agreeing to let a stranger live at his place for who knows how long.

He thought about reminding Jack what his favorite kind of vodka was so he could bring it with him later but he let it go. He finished his coffee, gathered the things he needed for work and locked the door behind him.

It was going to be a long day.

**********

Brock arrived home that night around 6 and started to prepare for your arrival. He made up the bed in the spare room and tidied his apartment a little. He was a bachelor, used to living how he wanted, not answering to anyone, and definitely not used to having a woman around.

But he would have to get used to it no matter how much he didn’t want to.

There was a knock on his apartment door around 7:30. When Brock opened the door, he wasn’t what you were expecting to see on the other side. He was quite handsome with dark brown hair and eyes the color of Tennessee whiskey. You hoped he didn’t catch you staring at him with your mouth open.

“You must be y/n. I’m Brock, Jack told me a lot about you. Please…come in.” He said.

You entered the apartment, wheeling your suitcase behind you with Jack following close behind. You had a handle of Tito’s vodka in your other hand and then placed it on the kitchen counter and extended your hand for Brock to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Brock. Thank you so much for letting me stay here, I didn’t exactly think it all the way through, picking up and leaving like I did. I made sure I had a new job but forgot I needed a place to live. But I really do appreciate this…I got you a little present, Jack told me it’s your favorite.” You said with a warm smile.

Briefly, one of the corners of Brock’s mouth turned up into a half smile but then went right back to pressing his lips together, firmly and furrowing his brow.

It was obvious he wasn’t really comfortable with someone invading his space like this and you couldn’t blame him for being a little grumpy. Jack did spring this on him at the last minute and gave Brock little time to prepare for your arrival.

“Yeah…You’re welcome. So, I made up the spare room so you can put your stuff away…down the hall and first door on the left.” Said Brock.

You left Brock and Jack to talk while you went to your room to settle in a little but you felt a little guilty for disrupting his life like this. Clearly, he was used to living alone and now because of your hasty decisions, he was stuck keeping a roof over your head until you could find a place of your own.

You were close to finding one though. Every apartment that was acceptable, you put in an application for it so you were just waiting to hear back from one of them at least.

You heard Jack call down to you to tell you he was leaving. He gave you a hug goodbye, said he’d talk to you soon and he would talk to Brock tomorrow. After he left, there was an awkward silence between you and Brock.

You guessed he was a man of few words and it didn’t help that you were painfully shy so starting a conversation with him would be difficult for you but you needed to make it more comfortable if you were going to be staying there.

Brock finally broke the silence.

“You wanna drink, y/n?” He asked.

You nervously sat down on the couch and protectively pulled your knees into your chest.

“Oh…yes, please. That would be great.” You replied.

“Thank you for this, by the way. It’s really generous of ya.” He said, taking ice out of the freezer.

Watching him reach for the glasses in his cabinet, the sleeve of his black t-shirt rolled back to reveal the muscles in his arms. You bit down on your lower lip wondering what his body looked like under his shirt and warmth rushed to your cheeks.

It had been months since you had been shown any physical affection and now you were sharing an apartment with an incredibly sexy man.

While Brock was mixing drinks, you pulled out your phone to text Jack.

“Why didn’t you mention that Brock was hot?”

You texted.

He texted back.

“Um, because it’s not something that crosses my mind y/n. Ohhhhhh it’s been awhile for you, hasn’t it?”

You squinted and furrowed your brow as you wrote back.

“Oh shut it…goodbye!”

He texted back a bunch of laughing emoji’s.

“Oh you’re welcome. It’s the least I could do for you letting me stay here. I promise it won’t be for too long…at least I hope it won’t be.” You said with a slight tremble in your voice.

“Here ya go, doll.” Brock said, handing you the glass with your vodka soda with lime.

You felt yourself start to blush upon hearing the little pet name.

“Thank you. So, you and Jack work together? He won’t tell me exactly what he does, I don’t suppose you could tell me?” You asked.

“Sorry sweetheart, I can tell you the basics but nothing juicy.” He said with a slight smirk, taking a sip of his drink.

You were turned on just by the way he held the glass and watched his throat move up and down as he swallowed the cold liquid. Thankfully, he distracted you with a question.

“Can you tell me what you do for work, y/n?” Asked Brock.

Your eyes widened as his question snapped you back to reality.

“Oh, the defense contractor I worked for up north also has an engineering office down here so I just found another job doing similar work.” You said.

Trading questions back and forth, you talked with each other for a couple of hours until you both started to yawn and your eyelids became heavy with sleep. It seemed like the both of you had a long day.

“Well, I’m off to bed…towels are in the hall closet for when ya wanna shower. I have a bathroom in my bedroom so take your time…goodnight y/n.” He said softly. His voice sounded extra raspy.

“Goodnight Brock, and thank you again.” You replied.

He went into his bedroom and shut the door, leaving you in the living room, alone with your thoughts. But you didn’t want to be alone with your thoughts.

It seemed all you could think of was your ex and how badly he hurt you, continued to hurt you in the months following your breakup and how he made it absolutely unbearable to stay in your hometown. That was your home, you shouldn’t have had to leave but he didn’t leave you any other choice.

With Brock asleep, you decided to clean up the dishes you dirtied and managed to find the coffee along with the filters to set up the timer on the coffee pot so fresh coffee would be ready for when you got up the next morning for work.

After your shower and with your head resting on the pillow, you just stared at the ceiling, the room filled with darkness as you waited for your eyelids to get heavy again but for some reason, they didn’t.

You were wide awake listening to the whistling sound the wind made outside your window and your mind wandered to thinking about Brock.

You closed your eyes and imagined his strong hands roaming all over your body, the scruff on his face lightly scratching the sensitive skin on your inner thighs, pinning your arms above your head as he kissed you aggressively.

That’s how you pictured being in bed with Brock Rumlow, a little bit rough but those thoughts made you so wet that a soft moan escaped your lips as you finally drifted off to sleep.

You had a feeling it was just going to get harder to resist the attraction to him and how long it would be before you couldn’t resist any longer.

**********

The alarm startled you awake and out of the dream you were having. It surprised you that you had slept so well in a strange place but you woke up feeling better than you have in a long time.

You put the finishing touches on your outfit for the day before emerging from your room to get some coffee. Brock’s bedroom door was still closed so you tried to be extra quiet while taking a mug from the cabinet and looking around for the sugar.

You heard Brock open his door. When he walked around the corner, he was pulling his shirt down over his muscular torso. It was difficult not to stare, he was in really great shape…as close to perfect as anyone could be.

The ache between your thighs was growing, forcing you to clench them together and release a soft gasp that you hoped he didn’t hear.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear ya get up. Actually, I forgot you were even here…been alone for so long, I just have to get used to ya bein’ here.” He said, the husk in his voice more pronounced after being asleep all night.

“You want some coffee?” You asked.

“Yeah…sounds great, thanks.” Brock said as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and yawned. “How are ya gettin’ to work this mornin’?”

“Oh I have my car. I followed Jack over here last night.” You replied.

Brock looked around at his kitchen and remembered there were dishes in the sink last night. The counters had been cleaned and his mail was neatly piled at the corner of the breakfast bar. The confused look he had on his face made you crack a smile.

“The kitchen was dirty when I went to bed last night, right? I’m not seeing things.” He asked.

You covered your mouth to try and keep him from seeing you smile.

“Well, I noticed it was dirty after you went to bed so I just cleaned up a little before my shower.” You said.

Brock finished his coffee and placed his cup in the sink. “Thanks…Ok, well I’ll be back around 6 tonight. Jack told me you go into work early also but I know you’ll get back before I do. The spare key is under the mat…I’ll see ya later.”

He picked up his backpack, his motorcycle helmet and walked out.

These were the types of exchanges you and Brock had for about a week. He was a man of very few words and it was almost like he had no idea how to live with someone else.

He would go to work, come home, and that’s it. He’d never go out with anyone, not even Jack which made you a little sad for him.

You finally got a phone call about one of the apartments you had filled out an application for, it was the one that was the nicest and the one you wanted the most but it wouldn’t be ready for another two weeks.

“I’m sorry, Brock. I know I said it wouldn’t be for that long but I’ll be outta your hair in two weeks, I swear.” You said nervously.

He looked at you with a slight smirk across his lips and said, “I told you doll, it’s alright…stay as long as you need to.”

At that moment, he seemed a little more comfortable having you there. Maybe he actually liked having you stay with him? Whatever it was, it didn’t feel awkward anymore but it was still hard to pretend you weren’t attracted to him.

To know what his body looked like under his clothes, his handsome face and honey colored eyes…just thinking about him made you blush.

You got into the habit of making dinner when you would come home from work. Sometimes he would be around to eat it before you went to bed and sometimes he wouldn’t be. After dinner, you would sit and talk…he was always asking questions.

You thought the reason he asked so many questions was because it kept you from asking anything about him, which was fine…he didn’t have to talk about anything he didn’t want to.

Being in a new city was scary and having only one friend in that city was even more frightening. But after a few more days, you felt like you could consider Brock a friend too. Although, you were sure that friends don’t picture their other friends naked.

Well, maybe some of them do.

Some nights, it wasn’t uncommon for you to go to bed before Brock got home. On a particular rainy night, you heard him come home late. Large drops of rain pelted against the building and the ceaseless winds seemed to make it their business to try and uproot the trees below.

It sounded like he threw his backpack hard against the wall and continued to make a lot of noise so you decided to get up to see what was going on with him.

You should have known better than to sneak up on him. Jack had told you enough about what they do to know that they were highly skilled in hand to hand combat so before you could even say Brock’s name, he had grabbed your wrist, spun you around to face away from him and pinned your arm against your back while holding a knife to your throat.

“Brock! It’s m-me! It’s y/n!!” Your voice trembled.

His hands felt cold and wet against the soft skin of your wrist while his thick fingers held onto you very tightly. The blade felt cool against your neck and suddenly your mouth became very dry, making it difficult to speak again.

Brock finally realized what he had done and dropped the knife. You heard it hit the floor and your eyes immediately welled up with tears. After turning around to look at him, Brock raised his hands in front of him to show you he wasn’t holding anything else.

“Y/n, I am so sorry! I didn’t know it was you! You can’t sneak up on me like that!” He yelled.

His actions scared you and you were paralyzed with fear but the look he had in his eyes was equal parts sadness and anger. And rather than run away, you inhaled sharply and let out a long exhale before doing the only thing you could think of that might comfort him.

You wrapped your arms around his torso and squeezed as hard as you could. His body tensed in your embrace but quickly relaxed when he returned your affection.

Burying his head into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushed against your skin making the hair on the back of your neck stand up and sent a shiver down the length of your spine.

“What happened, Brock?” You asked softly.

Still dressed in his tactical clothing, he told you he, along with everyone else, thought it would be a simple mission but it went wrong…horribly wrong.

It was supposed to be a convoy to go from point A to point B, drop off the package and leave. But they had a number of new agents with them that panicked when things didn’t go smoothly.

Everything worked out in the end, they finished their job and everyone made it back safely. But Brock was the leader of his STRIKE team and he wanted it all to go perfectly and when it didn’t, he didn’t know any other way to cope with it than to lash out in anger.

He was quick to apologize again.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart. I would never…” He trailed off and hung his head. “I’m…I’m sorry…”

You had always been painfully shy and quiet, never speaking unless you were spoken to, that kind of shy. And if you were being honest with yourself, it was still surprising that you had any past relationships because it was difficult for you to open up.

It was difficult for you to be assertive in any way when it came to showing affection or being confident in your own skin.

Uprooting your entire life and moving to a new city terrified you. In the past, it was something that you could never ever picture yourself doing but you did it and you did it all by yourself. You were stronger than you thought and if you wanted something then you should go get it.

So it surprised even you when you inched closer to Brock, your eyelids were warm with his breath and you ghosted your lips over his before not being able to control yourself anymore. He smelled like fresh rain and your fingers found their way into his damp hair as your lips crashed against his.

He didn’t pull away but rather pulled you closer, his kisses were hungry with clashing teeth, his tongue dancing with yours as you whispered his name against his mouth over and over again.

You were shocked at the lack of your own restraint when your hands traveled down to the hem of his t-shirt which was soaked from the rain. The heat was radiating off of his skin as your fingers lightly touched his chest and migrated down his stomach muscles to his belt.

The words that escaped his lips surprised you.

“I’ve wanted you since the first second I saw you. Jack failed to mention that you’re absolutely beautiful.” He whispered.

Warmth rushed to your cheeks as you replied, “Well he didn’t mention to me that you’re sexy as fuck, Mr. Rumlow.”

Suddenly his hands were under your ass, he picked you up with ease as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he carried you toward the bedroom…his bedroom.

Brock was not gentle with you but you didn’t want him to be. He practically tossed you onto the bed and quickly climbed on top of you as his lips collided with yours once again. He kissed you desperately and with a hunger that was so new to you.

The passion behind it was something you had only seen in movies, it never happened to you in real life but you craved this type of affection, this type of passion, and it only deepened your desire for him.

Brock nipped at your bottom lip and jawline, peppering kisses down your neck as he tightly gripped your outer thigh, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed his thick fingers into your soft skin.

Your t-shirt and shorts were hastily discarded onto the bedroom floor, leaving you just in your panties and his hard cock pressed against your core, causing a soft moan to escape your lips and a low growl escaped his.

You didn’t know it was possible but you pulled him down even closer to you, the warm breath from your mouth lightly brushed the top of his ear which made him even more feral and he growled louder into your ear.

It felt like torture waiting for Brock to touch you in your most sensitive area but that changed as soon as you felt his fingers dip under the waistband of your underwear and slip into you.

He moved them rhythmically, hitting just the right spot deep inside that caused you to whimper and your walls started to tighten around his talented fingers.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart. You gonna be a good girl and come for me?” He whispered against your lips.

He draws out another soft moan from you, it had been so long since you had even been kissed that you felt like you could come just from the finger fucking he was giving you. He drew circles on your clit with his thumb, bringing you closer and closer to your release, and you felt like you were going to explode.

Before you could cry out his name, Brock firmly gripped your chin and captured your lips with his so all you could do was whimper into his mouth as he kissed you aggressively, pressing his hips down in between your legs even harder than before as if to make sure you weren’t going anywhere until he let you.

Breathing heavily after coming down from your high, the corners of his mouth turned up into a slight smile. “Oh I’m not even close to being done with you, doll.”

He suddenly disappeared in between your legs. You could feel his stubble brush gently against your inner thighs as he hummed against your entrance and you ran your fingers through his damp hair. Arching your back off of the mattress, you recklessly called out his name over and over again.

“Brock…I…can’t…” Those words were all you managed to get out before he brought his gaze up to meet yours and finished what you started by removing his pants. You wanted him. You wanted to feel every inch of him inside you.

Your thoughts were all over the place, and you were still shocked this was actually happening. His focus was solely on you and it surprised you how easily he slipped inside you, stretching you out before slowly starting to move, hitting just the right spot deep within your core, the spot that caused your vision to go white and your walls to tighten around his cock.

“You can give me more, sweetheart. I know you can.” He commanded.

You’ve never had someone who had been so eager to please you, who took care of you in bed, or who put your needs first before his own. You could feel yourself soaking the sheet underneath you as the cries of pleasure he ripped from you turned him on.

He fucked you hard and deep, forcefully pushing you into the mattress while your nails scratched up and down his back as he grunted loudly into your ear.

Somehow, it was almost like he knew that you’ve never been fucked this good before. You could almost feel his sly grin against your cheek as you gripped his waist as tightly as you could with your legs before his name fled from your lips. Your walls began to flutter as his movements became faster and insistent, he was close too.

“Ah…fuck!” He cried out.

Searching for his lips with your own, you were eager for his kiss, and desperate for the passion that you haven’t had in so long.

So you lifted your head slightly and pinched his jaw gently with your teeth until his lips met yours. He kissed you hard before spilling into you and then collapsing on top of you.

You could feel yourself trembling underneath him as a tear streaked down the side of your face from the overstimulation. Brock took your hand in his to comfort you but you had never felt better.

“You alright, doll?” He asked. “I didn’t hurt ya did I?”

You shook your head and bit down on your bottom lip.

“No, of course not. If you couldn’t tell, I was having a great time.” You chuckled.

He moved a stray piece of hair away from your eyes and smiled warmly at you. It was probably the first genuine smile you had ever seen from him. It wasn’t forced or a just-being-polite smile, it was an actual smile.

“Is that an actual smile, Mr. Rumlow?” You asked.

He tried to cover his smile.

“Ah, ah…too late. I saw it already. Ya know if you have another bad night like tonight, I might be available again to help work out some of your aggression.” You said with a wink as you tried to catch your breath.

“Is that right, sweetheart?” Asked Brock.

He started to smile again but stopped himself and all of sudden looked really nervous.

“Brock? What is it?” You asked.

He inched closer to you and gently pressed his lips to yours. They were warm and soft as you brushed his stubble with your thumb and smiled against his mouth.

“I was just thinking…” He said. “This probably wasn’t what Jack had in mind when he asked if I could do him a favor. So…who’s gonna tell him?”

Quickly, you pointed to your nose and said, “Not it.” And laughed.

Brock let out a raspy chuckle. “Or, maybe he wanted this to happen. Ya think?”

Gently tugging back on his soft brown hair, you gazed into his light brown eyes and said, “Well, that should make it easier to tell him then, right?”

“I ain’t gonna tell him by myself. Even though I think I can take him, he is bigger than I am.” He joked.

You smiled, kissed him again and said, “Ok, I’ll stay in the room when you tell him, but I don’t think he’ll be mad.”

“You don’t?” Brock asked.

You chuckled as you replied, “Nah, once he sees the smile you put on my face, he’ll probably thank you.”

Your joke made him laugh.

With a devilish grin, he said “Well, I like putting a smile on your face, doll…in fact, I’d really like to do it again, if you’re not too tired.”

Maybe starting over wasn’t so bad after all.

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @munsonownsmyass @k-marzolf @redstarsandnightmares @randomlittleimp @nutmeg17 @gijos @nekoannie-chan

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

[chaos-and-ink]

Chapter Seven As Stable As Water is posted!

Summary: He really was lucky he had a boyfriend as understanding as Brock. And Bucky immediately felt sick for how he had treated him last month. He’d been fucking awful to him. Constantly pushing and pulling at him and dragging him through the mud. He ignored his texts, gave him short replies, fought him on everything. Bucky wanted to curl up and cry as he recalled the last month. He was an awful boyfriend. God, he was lucky to have Brock as a boyfriend.

Kudos, comments, reblogs, all that jazz is super appreciated! :D

[cybernetic-asset]

You find some crumpled papers on the ground…

[abbatoirablaze]

Surrogate Luna, Chapter 7

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings:  medical situations, major angst, mentions of being poisoned.

The seasons seemed to change just as quickly as Sharon disappeared with Brock and a trusted few of her own from her pack, leaving Steve and Cinna to their own happiness. 

While the pack was excited about Steve’s incoming pup, they were also on edge, constantly training in case Sharon came back looking for war. 

But Steve hadn’t expected her to come back so late into Cinna’s pregnancy.  Nearly two months had passed before she arrived again, boastful with her new sweetened scent and the assurance that she was with Brock’s pup as well. 

Steve didn’t care though.

He chose instead to ignore Sharon, and dote on Cinna and his pup, moving into Cinna’s quarters permanently. 

And in the mean time, Cinna had gotten along famously with the pack, fulfilling the duties of the alpha’s mate that Sharon had long ignored with Wanda, Maria, and Sarah always accompanying her. 

But Cinna knew that as part of the program, the good times always end.  Every night that Steve spent beside her meant one less night with the pack that she was growing so fond of.  So, it shocked Steve to his core when she seemed sad the day that their pup started kicking.

“Why are you not happy, luna?” Steve asked with a frown as his hand still rested on Cinna’s growing stomach, “are pup is happy and healthy, bouncing every day as he grows.”

“Can I be honest with you, Steve?”

Steve felt a knot in his stomach with the way she spoke, “What’s wrong, Cinna?  Is something wrong with our pup?  Are you-“

“I’m scared,” she said quickly, cutting him off, “I’m scared, Steve!”

Steve gave a heavy sigh. 

Part of him let like that was in part to Sharon. 

While she too had begun to grow, her stomach swelling more by the day as well, she had been just as threatening and intimidating to Cinna as the day that she’d been brought back to the packhouse.

“Nothing will happen with Sharon,” he tried to reassure her.  He leaned forward and rubbed his nose against her own, “none of her or her pac-“

“I don’t want to leave!”

Steve stopped speaking.

“Leave?” he asked, “What on earth are you talking about?  You’re not leaving.”

“I-I know that when I birth our pup…your pup…my contract is up,” she said quickly, giving him another sad look, “I don’t wan-“

“You’re not leaving me, omega,” Steve growled, feeling overwhelmed and territorial of his omega, “Cinna…I marked you.  I love you.  You are my Luna.  My true mate.  You are not going back to the program.  Ever!”

Her eyes met his, the shock making Steve’s heart break as he thought about how this must have been weighing on her mind so much that she was surprised to hear his declaration of devotion. 

“What?”

“Omega…I-I thought you knew it from the day that I brought you to the den,” he said quickly as he stroked her cheek, “the day I caught your scent in the facility…I made them promise you to me.  I had my pack lawyers go and break your contract.  You allowing me to mark you was the requirement, as it showed that I truly wanted to keep you for more than just creating pups.  Once I dissolve my relationship with Sharon…somehow…I want to have a true mating ceremony.  I-I want you to mark me as well omega.  You’re my omega…and I am your alpha.  You are my Luna.  My everything!”

“Really?”

Steve leaned forward, pressing his lips gently to hers, “yes, omega…really…”

She breathed a sigh of relief after studying Steve’s eyes for a moment, “I-I love you Steve!”

“And I love you, Cinna,” Steve replied sweetly, his hands still on her stomach, “and our pup…the first of many if I have my way!”

“I think you’ll always have your way, Steve!”

Steve rumbled loudly, a smirk growing on his face, “I think I like the sound of that, omega!”

“WE ARE ALMOST AT THE END OF OUR JOURNEY!” Steve claimed, his glass held high as he looked next to himself where Cinna was round with his child, “EIGHT MONTHS MY OMEGA HAS BEEN PREPARING FOR OUR PUP.  HELPING BREATHE LIFE INTO HIM.  HELPING HIM GROW IN THE SAFETY AND SECURITY OF OUR PACK!  AND I WANTED TO CELEBRATE WITH ALL OF YOU.  MY LOYAL PACK MATES.  WE HAVE CHOSEN TO NAME HIM STEVEN, THE SECOND OF HIS NAME, AFTER MYSELF!”

The pack roared with excitement at Steve’s toast. 

“More, luna?” one of the girls offered, holding the pitcher away from herself, extending it in offerance to the woman.

“Yes please?” Cinna smiled politely, before turning her attention back to Steve.  

“AND TO SHARON AND HER PACK,” Steve continued, trying to extend an olive branch to the woman he was still promised to, “FOR SHE AND BROCK HAVE CONCEIVED A PUP AS WELL.  AND FROM WHAT I AM TOLD, HE WILL BE A STRONG PUP TOO!  BOTH PACKS HAVE BEEN SECURED WITH HEIRS!”

Sharon’s pack cheered this time. 

“Let our packs be kind in peace, and share our borders as they have for years,” Steve offered, “to Packs Rogers and Carter!”

“ROGERS AND CARTER!”

Everyone took a sip from their glasses, with both Sharon and Cinna partaking in a non-alcoholic version. 

But the reaction was instantaneous within Steve. Across his own bond he could feel that something was wrong with Cinna. 

Worriedly, he looked over to her, and saw it in her eyes. 

“HEALER!” Steve yelled, calling for someone to help his omega as she dropped her cup and fell to the floor, “HEALER!”

“We can’t wait!”

“I need to-“

“Alpha, you can’t come any further!” one of the doctors said quickly as they tried to push the aggressive alpha away from the gurney which they’d been rushing to the operating room, “we just need to know your wishes!”

“Wishes?”

“If it comes down to it,” the doctor said nervously, not wanting to say what Steve had already been thinking, “if it comes to your pup or your omega-“

“My omega!” he said quickly, “I-I can’t lose Cinna!”

“We’ll do our best, alpha!”

Words couldn’t describe how Steve had felt. 

How he was reacting. 

“Well?”

“She was poisioned,” Maria admitted, not daring to look her alpha in the eye, “her glass-“

“WHO DID IT!” he roared.

“We don’t know…” Wanda admitted even more nervously, “there wasn’t any way to trace it.  The person refilling cups was knocked out.  N-none of us were paying attention.”

“THAT IS MY MATE!” he screamed, pointing in the direction of the operating room, “BECAUSE NONE OF YOU WERE PAYING ATTENTION, SHE MIGHT DIE!  MY PUP MIGHT DIE!  I HAD-“

“Steve…” Sam tried, cutting off the alpha.  He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

But Steve shook his head at him, the tears streaking down his cheeks, “before she went in, the doctor asked me who I would save if I could only save one of them…I want whoever did this in the dungeon before the full moon!”

“Steve…that’s in two days!”

“Be happy I’m giving you that time…” he growled, shooting daggers at Maria, Sam, Sarah, and Wanda, “if she dies…if my pup dies…I don’t know what I’ll do!”

Cinna’s eyes opened, and everything was blurry.

Everything ached. 

It felt like she’d been hit by a truck, and her body parts had been thrown back in and her body sewn shut without any order.

“CINNA!”

Instantly Cinna was overwhelmed by the anxiety lacing Steve’s scent. 

She could hardly see him because everything was too bright and blurry, but she knew him by his scent.  She went to lift a hand, but Steve grabbed hold of her. 

“Wh-what happened?” she asked slowly, her eyes adjusting to the hospital room, “Wh-where am I?”

“The pack hospital!” he answered quickly. 

It was then that Cinna noticed the tears in Steve’s eyes, and her mind went to the worst possible scenario.  She looked down at her stomach and noticed that it was smaller.  Her own eyes went wide, “o-our pup!  Steve where is-“

A crying interrupted her question. 

Her eyes watered, and tears started to fall down her cheeks as she caught the whines of her pup.  Steve rushed away from her to scoop the newborn up, before bringing him right back, “he-he’s fine, omega.  Our baby boy is fine.  He came into the world fighting…”

“Stevie!” Cinna whimpered, reaching out to take her pup. 

The newborn’s eyes opened, and her heart melted; the bond between mother and son instant.  Stevie stopped crying and looked at his mother curiously with eyes that mirrored his fathers.

“I-I was worried about you!” Steve admitted, “they-they got him out before the poison affected him…but you-“

“He’s okay!” she cooed, her eyes unwavering from her little boy as she cradled him against her breast, “Steve…he-he’s okay.  Stevie’s okay!  Our pup is alright and that’s all that matters.  He’s here!  And he’s perfect!”

“I’m going to kill whoever did this to you, omega!” Steve promised as he reached out to her, “I-I want you to know that!”

“I’m just glad that Stevie’s okay…” she sobbed, kissing the top of her son’s head.   With her free hand, she reached out and took Steve’s hand in her own, “Steve…I-I want to do the ceremony…if someone’s willing to try and kill us…I-I don’t want to hide behind excuses of why we can’t…I-I don’t care what Sharon’s pack thinks…we need to do what’s best for our pack!”

Steve felt a sense of pride filling his chest as he listened to her words.  He lifted her hand up and kissed it, “whatever you want, Luna…”

Chapter 8

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @prokey16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @teambarnes72, @mrsevans90

[nekoannie-chan]

Looking for fics

If have fanfics of the following characters:

Brock Rumlow.

Runaways.

Tandy Bowen.

Ororo Munroe.

Lorna Dane.

PRIDE.

Morgan le Fey.

Nico Minoru.

Clarice Fong/Ferguson.

Rogue.

John Proudstar.

Stepford Cuckoos.

Sinthea Schmidt.

Janet van Dyne.

Doctor Doom.

Mister Sinister.

Dottie Underwood.

Michael Morbius.

Ana/Satana Helstrom.

Daimon Helstrom.

Jack Rollins.

The divine pairing.

Tina Minoru.

But posted on Tumblr because I’m looking for add them to my recommend list on here as you know that’s the way I support writers on this platform. Let me know or tag me, please.

My reading guidelines here.

[peggyisqueen]

Tumblr prompt/Fic request please!!

I would love a TaserBones where Darcy is really good Friends with Bucky, Rumlow was undercover in Hydra and really like Darcy but thinks she’s with Bucky and feels guilty so won’t do anything! Darcy fancies Brock but won’t because of her friendship with Bucky and Bucky is fed up with the pair of them and gets them together!!

If anyone would like to write this for me, or direct me to any existing fics I would be most grateful! ☺️

[sleeplessmidnight26]

Masterlist

List of all my stories available on my AO3 account

My Love Is True Series (Stony, Superfamily)

Before He Cheats - Rating: E, 50 Chapters, Warnings: Rape/Non-con

Our Love Grows Stronger - Rating: E, 46 Chapters, Warnings: N/A

This Is Me Trying - Rating E, 45 Chapters (WIP), Warnings: Rape/Non-con

Before He Cheats: What If - Rating: E, 17 Chapters, Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Against All Odds Series (Stony, Superfamily)

Beautiful Trauma - Rating: E, 50 Chapter, Warnings: Rape/Non-con, Underage

Brooklyn Baby - Rating: E, current WIP, Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Face Down Series (ShieldBones, Stony)

You're Safe Now - Rating: E, 95 Chapters, Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Love The Way You Lie - Rating: E, current WIP, Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

One Shots

Breathe - Rating: G, Warnings: N/A (Stony)

Catching Feelings - Rating: M, Warnings: N/A (SamBucky)

Driving Lessons - Rating: T, Warnings: N/A (Stony, SamBucky)

Everything Burger - Rating: E, Warnings: N/A (Stony)

I Can See You - Rating: G, Warnings: N/A (Stony)

Isn't It Obvious - Rating: G, Warnings: N/A (Stony)

Like Father Like Son - Rating: E, Warnings: N/A (Stony, SteveXHoward)

Pancake Surprise - Rating G, Warnings: N/A (Stony) co-author: @snazzyerin

You Took My Breath Away - Rating M, Warnings: N/A (Stony)

Multi Chapter

A Litte Bit Longer - Rating: T, 8 Chapters, Warnings: N/A (Stony)

All Things Lost - Rating: E, 20 Chapters, Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage (Stony)

As Long As You Love Me - Rating: E, 27 Chapter, Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage (Stony, WinterWidow)

Beautiful Soul - Rating: M, 10 Chapters, Warnings: N/A (Stony)

Criminal - Rating: E, 32 Chapters (WIP), Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con (Stony, WinterHawk)

Family Portrait - Rating: E, current WIP, Warnings: N/A (Stony, SamBucky)

Gimme Shelter - Rating: E, current WIP, Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage (Stony, SamBucky)

I Kissed a Boy - Rating: E, current WIP, Warnings: N/A (Stony, Pepperony, Sharon x Steve)

Illicit Affairs - Rating: E, 25 Chapters (WIP), Warnings: N/A (Stony, SamBucky)

Jericho - Rating: E, current WIP, Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage (Stony, Superfamily)

Lose You To Love Me - Rating: E, current WIP, Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence (Stony)

Never Too Late - Rating: E, current WIP, Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con (Stony)

Prepare You - Rating: E, 5 Chapters, Warnings: MCD (Stony, Superfamily)

Skin and Bones - Rating: E, current WIP, Warnings: N/A (Stony)

Unexpected True Mates - Rating: E, 12 Chapters, Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage (Stony)

We Are Never Getting Back Together - Rating: E, current WIP, Warnings: N/A (Stony)

You Make It Feel Like Christmas - Rating: M, 25 Chapters, Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence (Stony)

You Shook Me All Night Long - Rating: E, current WIP, Warnings: N/A (Stuckony)