#alpha!steven grant | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nutteu · 1 year

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in your veins, burning like a broken saint

[AO3] [moonsea series]

There was a certain misery in a love that had been touched by desperation, in a reciprocation that was prevented by conscience and heartbreak. There was a certain love in desires that had been marred by fate, in the helplessness that they couldn’t save themselves from. [Marc/Steven; alpha/alpha; abo au; published 2022-06-20; word count: 6,500]

The first thing Steven noticed when he woke up was the horribly acute scent of sex wafting in the air. The sharp tang of coffee and blood, softened only marginally by lavender and hydrangea; sweat and semen that seemed to pool around him, from him; the acrid scent of smoke that was always present in Jake’s room even if Steven kept complaining about it, said that Jake should open his windows when he smoked.

The second thing he noticed was the unbearable ache from his lower back and his arsehole, throbbing sharply as soon as his senses were awake enough to register it. It wasn’t just from those two areas, his whole body felt like he had been run over by a fucking truck. He felt a sting on his neck, and winced when he reached up and felt the edges of a dried bite wound—one of them, anyway. When he pulled off the blanket, his chest and thighs were covered by them. Some were deep enough to leave indents, some of them turned into bruises.

He looked like he had been run over by a truck. Bite wounds, finger-shaped bruises, hickeys, and, he wrinkled his nose at this, dried semen stuck to his skin. They all served as a reminder to what he did last night, when he stormed off from his shared apartment with Marc, to Jake’s. My God, he thought with a sigh as he looked over to the side and found Jake snoring lightly in his sleep, one of his hands under the pillow, and Steven knew he was holding his gun. Even deep in slumber, Jake could never stop bracing himself for danger.

He stared at Jake’s back, where similar bite marks and deep scratches from well-trimmed nails were seen. Steven knew they were from him, and he narrowly missed the urge to scream out his frustration and embarrassment. Instead, he just buried his face into the cusp of his palms and tried to banish the snippets of memory of him and Jake tousling on the couch, the bathroom, the bed; grappling at each other like wild animals with claws too sharp, the scent of lust and anger enveloping them both until neither of them could breathe right anymore.

He had just made a colossal mistake, it seemed. In his bout of rage and disappointment, he left and did the very thing that Marc had literally begged on his knees for him not to do. Steven could feel the spindly fingers of guilt whispering on his back, traipsing up his skin, waiting to sink their claws into his lungs. But it was too early in the morning, and Steven had just woken up from what looked like an animalistic fornication, and he still remembered clearly his argument with Marc the day before. Guilt had always been an emotion he felt so acutely, trouncing nearly everything. But today, he hadn’t healed from the hurt that Marc had elicited in him from his silence, from his refusal of acknowledgment about what the hell was happening between them.

For the first time in his life, Steven let the anger win.

“Find somewhere else to mope,” he heard Jake’s groggy voice, and turned around. Jake seemed to be amused when Steven squeaked and tried to cover himself up with the blanket. He tugged back just to be cruel, and laughed when Steven covered his lower half with the pillow instead. “What’s the matter, little dove? I don’t think you should be embarrassed now, considering how pretty you looked when you were all shameless and desperate for my—”

“Bloody hell, just shut up,” Steven hissed, slapping his palm over Jake’s mouth, and narrowed his eyes when the man just continued to laugh. He sighed, closing his eyes, and prayed for patience to whichever God that still had enough mercy to hear him out. He felt Jake’s fingers closing around his, the press of lips against the back of his hand. Steven opened his eyes, and flushed at the darkening look on the man’s face. “Jake,” he tried, then coughed in embarrassment when his voice broke in the middle. “Jake,” he tried again, this time with slightly more success.

Jake hummed, deep and rough around the edges, still addled with sleep and the leftover desires that were making themselves known in the early morning light. His kisses trailed upward, and he moved along with them, pushing away the pillow and placing his cold palm on Steven’s thigh. “You have to go back, yes? Then let me leave some souvenirs for Marc. Isn’t that what you want? For him to see that others could claim you if he won’t?”

Steven swallowed, and exhaled a defeated sigh as he let Jake push him down on the bed, let him press their lips together, let him tug at Steven’s hair to bare his neck so he could place another mark on the small space left. He slipped his fingers through Jake’s curls, caressing gently. He bit his lip to prevent a moan from slipping out when he felt the sharp canines pierced through his skin, sending an electric jolt to his veins, making his cock harden alarmingly fast. He had just discovered last night that he had a thing for pain. Jake had looked near feral, ready to tear him apart when he realized this as well.

It only pained him slightly that the familiar face above him was not someone he had wanted it to be.

“Stop thinking so loud,” Jake whispered as his bites travelled down. “I told you to find somewhere else to mope. But you wanted to be here, didn’t you, sweet thing? All you have to do is to say so and I’ll stop. But I didn’t hear anything since last night but your filthy, filthy cries and my name on your lips.” He pushed himself up and looked at Steven in the eyes, a grin filled with nothing but chaos and unholy glee carved on his lips. “Do you want me to stop now, Steven?”

Steven stared back with something close to defiance, curling his fingers around his guilt and the memories of Marc’s back, walking away from the argument, from him. He gripped Jake’s hair tightly, and pulled him down, close enough for their breaths to mingle, close enough to whisper his dirty secrets right into this man’s lungs.

“No,” he said, nearly growled it out, and Jake’s grin turned into a moan when they kissed; hungrily, roughly, like they sought to destroy each other instead of patching up the fractures they had within their hearts.

At this point, maybe Steven didn’t want to.

Marc’s eyes bled red faster than Steven had ever seen them did when he came back, bringing with him Jake’s scent all over his body, over his nape where a hideous, raw wound was only slightly covered by his collar. Every step he took to the elevator, people turned their heads so fast to look at him. Steven knew that it was rare for alphas to be together, but it was probably more because of him—every single occupant of this building knew him as this docile, chattery, awkward man who was probably a virgin his whole life. It was pretty understandable that they’d be shocked to see him walking in like that, shamelessly displaying the fact that he was fucked six ways to Sunday through his scent alone.

Steven felt a whisper of fear along his spine, but he stood tall as he locked the door. He was a fractured part of Marc, and he was an alpha, too, wasn’t he? He wouldn’t back down. Not anymore. Marc could bring his posturing anywhere else.

“Steven,” Marc called out, low and dangerous, his eyes alight in the dim light of the apartment.

He stared ahead at those eyes, trying not to flinch. Back when all this living nightmare started, when strange things happened to him, when he had to fight for his life, when he almost died, when he almost lost Marc, when they fought Harrow, the strongest emotion that he felt was fear. It all but fled him now, as he walked closer to the lion’s den.

He dropped his bag thoughtlessly, shed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves so Marc could see where else Jake had left the traces of his touch. It was only through sheer embarrassment and a touch of insecurity that prevented him from baring his naked body altogether. But he didn’t need to, because Marc’s eyes progressively went wilder the more he took in the state Steven was in, the more he inhaled Jake’s and Steven’s scents, entwined closer than the bond that the three of them shared. Steven walked closer, and told himself not to back down, over and over again.

“What did you do?” Marc asked at last after an excruciating silence, their alphas clashing against each other, trying to see who could dominate the room. None of them would win, they both knew it, but they were too angry, too tired, to ever stop and think, to feel.

“What does it look like, Marc?” he shot back, standing just a few steps away from Marc.

Marc’s fists were curled tight on the table, any longer and his nails would pierce the skin; any longer and he’d be too coiled to talk, lost to the violence. So, Steven braced for it, squaring his shoulders and ignoring the ache in his heart. But the moment Marc saw him readying himself for an attack, all fight seemed to be drained from his body. He looked down, looked dejected and sad instead, and Steven looked away for a moment. The ache was stronger, louder in its cage.

When Marc stood up, a sigh escaping his lips, Steven still didn’t look at him. “Sleeping with him isn’t going to help with anything, Steven. So is your passive aggressiveness, or leaving around the divorce papers for me to see.”

Irritation climbed back into the foyer of his heart, cruelly shoving down the ache and longing. “Yeah?” he said, a sneer curling on his lips. Maybe he hung around Jake too much. Because never in his life that he would ever think he could be this angry, this vicious in taking down everyone with him, this desperate in showing that he was hurt and that he was ready to hurt others in return. The sneer felt strange, but he kept it intact as he shoved at Marc’s reaching hand. “So is running away from the problem, Marc. Ever thought of that? Of course you didn’t, because all you ever thought is yourself, and what you want, and never, never, once you ever asked me about how I want to do this.”

“Steven,” Marc said, almost pleading, grasping Steven’s shoulders and tightening his hold when Steven struggled. “We’ve talked about this. I told you, we couldn’t; we shouldn’t.”

“Then, perhaps, you shouldn’t have come back with me,” Steven said, hurt evident in his voice. God, and he had told himself to be strong, to not be weak to Marc’s somber eyes. A touch and he crumbled down to this bumbling, sensitive, weak man who couldn’t let go despite knowing that Marc was right. They couldn’t, they shouldn’t. “Shouldn’t tell me what to do and what not to do; shouldn’t mind if I’m with someone else.”

Then you should just leave me, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. It’d just hurt him more than it would Marc. Because Steven was aware that he had put too much of himself, of his hopes, into this mess.

Marc said it instead, then. “Do you want me to leave then?”

Steven looked at him, then, startled. He instinctively curled into himself, and Marc sighed in what felt like defeat. He carefully wrapped his arms around Steven, closing his palm over Jake’s bite mark on Steven’s nape. His breathing was harsh, but his touch was gentle, almost revering. Steven wanted to scream and hit this man with everything that he could. If Marc could touch him like this, then why were they stuck in this stalemate? If Marc didn’t want to leave either, then why was he so far to the touch, to what Steven had thought they both wanted? Nothing made sense anymore ever since they left the last battle against Harrow and Ammit.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered into the fabric of Marc’s shirt.

Marc curled his fingers into Steven’s hair, pulling him closer. “I won’t,” he replied, just as quiet. He sounded like it broke his heart to say it out loud. “You’re right,” he then said after he sucked in a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have told you how to live your life. You can—you can do what you want, Steven; be with anyone you want, with Jake, if that’s what you desire.”

Steven pulled away from the embrace, eyebrows drawn together, mouth slightly agape. “What—” he tried, but the rage was building up again, the hurt and the frustration and all the confusion that kept following him ever since Marc took his hand and led him back to this apartment. “That’s not what I meant, Marc. Why can’t you just—” he stopped himself, and gritted his teeth.

Marc stood there, looking helpless and Steven didn’t understand how he was the one looking like Steven just broke his heart when Marc was the one who laid all these rules, who touched Steven as if he wanted him, the one who kept leaving when Steven tried to reach out.

He turned on his heels and picked up his bag from the floor. He still had a mind to check on Gus, and felt a pang on his chest when he saw that the fish had been fed, the tank cleaned. All this shit Marc did for Steven, and he couldn’t even give the only thing that he truly wanted. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so sad. He tried not to feel bad when he slammed the door behind.

“Whatever is going on between you and him, I want no part of it,” Jake said easily as he let Steven in. “Damn, cariño, never seen you this angry before. Except maybe last night.”

Steven ignored him and flopped on the couch. It was brand new, just like everything else in the apartment because Jake didn’t waste time in shaping his life after he got his own body. Sometimes, Steven envied him, because now that they weren’t tied together, didn’t have to share one body anymore, didn’t need to serve a bloodthirsty god involuntarily, Jake already knew what he wanted, what he should do to get it.

Here Steven was, with freedom to live his life as his own person, yet he was still chained to the past, to the person whom he had belonged to. His own body, his own hands, his own legs, his own heart, and still Steven didn’t know how to stop being a part of Marc. Jake was right, as he sometimes reminded Steven when he was being like this, he was pathetic.

Jake poked him with his toe, and Steven grunted in reply, face still buried in the soft pillows. “Change your clothes, and take a shower. As much as I like you smelling like me, you reek.”

“And whose fault is that?” he quipped back, though he had to fight back a blush when Jake grinned dirtily at him. He fled to the bathroom faster than Jake could find the end of his laughter. He sighed as he looked at his reflection. He looked wrecked; no wonder Marc seemed ready to obliterate the nearest object in sight.

Marc had… this weird sense of possessiveness towards him, ever since they came back from the Duat. It started out subtle—him buying Steven clothes and perfumes, scenting him when he was about to go out, leaving his clothes on Steven’s bed, holding his nape, buying him food, glaring at anyone who dared to stare whenever they went out together. He first thought it was just because Marc was worried about him, but the more he did it, the more he realized that Marc was trying to leave his mark in all the indirect ways that he could.

He didn’t like seeing Steven talking to anyone who smelled like they had the barest hint of interest in him. He didn’t permit Steven going out with Scott after he reapplied for tour guide position at the museum. He bristled whenever someone approached them. The bluntest he had ever been was when he told Steven to not seek Jake out.

And Steven, stupidly enough, had been so obedient to Marc’s wishes, had been so happy to be taken care of, to have Marc’s attention and fleeting touch on him. Until he found the divorce papers again, that was.

The bang on the door pulled him back to the present, and he lifted his hands a little to see that they were pruned. No wonder Jake was impatient.

“Clothes are outside,” Jake called out. “Hurry up, little dove, or I’ll pee all over your bag.”

It made Steven laughed, if a little horrified. Jake was just… so different, than him and Marc. Steven knew he carried the most of the brunt from Marc’s childhood, that he had been the one protecting them when the assault was too much to handle, that he had saved their lives more times than they could count. But Jake was so inexplicably, unapologetically himself, even when he was still within the system, that it was just hard to ever see him as a part of Marc Spector. Perhaps, that was the reason why he went against what Marc had told him, and sought Jake out. He wanted to have something in his life that didn’t have anything to do with or remind him of Marc.

“Breakfast on the table,” Jake said, before he hurried into the bathroom as soon as Steven stepped out.

He put on the clothes Jake had given to him. They fit him just right, considering they were the same size, came from the same person. It didn’t stretch as much across the shoulders, since Steven didn’t have the luxury of having a muscled body without working out anymore. He really should hit the gym or something. Osiris’ gift wasn’t exactly immune to fat and laziness, after all.

The breakfast was vegan, and it brought a small smile to Steven’s lips. Jake didn’t really remember, or perhaps didn’t care enough, the first time around. But he got the message at last after Steven whined and grumbled as he set aside the meat from the food. Jake wasn’t as attentive as Marc, but he was more honest, if a bit rude and careless about Steven’s feelings. But it was nice to have someone who didn’t hide anything from him, including the horrible details about Jake’s decision to work as a hired gun now.

Marc didn’t notice the first time that Steven met with Jake, because he made sure to covered himself in scent blocker and the perfume Marc had bought for him each time he came home. But when he did, the fight was bad enough that Marc left for two days, and Steven went to work looking like he died twice within the span of five hours; bad enough for Steven to stop seeing Jake for some time, until he smelled an omega’s scent on Marc. That was the first time he slept with Jake, stumbling on his touch, yet determined all the same to forget about Marc’s scent, entwined with something else that made him think you should have been mine alone.

That thought horrified him, because despite his clear affection and desires, Marc wasn’t his. Marc was possessive to begin with because he only had few good things in life, so he clung to them with everything that he had. Steven could understand this. But he wasn’t. It was the first time he had felt that cruel, that possessive, that undignified in his jealousy. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“Can I ask you to do something for me?” he asked when Jake came back.

“Depends on the rewards,” the man smirked, leaning down to loom over Steven. “What is it, little dove?”

“I want you to find out where Layla is right now,” Steven said, and Jake’s smirk faded.

The man pulled out a chair for himself, and sat down heavily. “Why do you want that information?”

“I thought you didn’t want to know?” Steven tried to joke, but it felt bland even to himself. He heaved a deep breath and put down his sandwich. “After the last battle, she asked Marc to leave with her. He didn’t.”

“He came back with you, I’m aware of this,” Jake nodded.

“Marc still kept the divorce papers in his bag,” Steven said, looking away for a moment. “He never signed it. Sometimes, he read them again, and he’d try to call Layla. He always ended the call before she could pick up. He never picked up her calls either.”

“So, you’ve given up, is what you’re telling me?”

Steven gave him a bitter smile. “I don’t think there’s even something to fight for to begin with.”

Jake considered him for a moment, gaze sharp and intrusive, and Steven fought not to squirm. Jake was the only one who got mismatched eyes after they were granted their own bodies. The red left eye felt like it was all seeing, all knowing; it glowed brighter when his alpha showed up, when both of his eyes were red. Steven still had difficulties to this day holding a staring contest with Jake because of it.

“Talk to him, one last time,” Jake said in the end. “If nothing good comes out of it, I’ll tell you where El-Faouly is.”

Steven’s lips trembled. He was tired of talking, sick of it, because nothing ever came out of his attempts to actually find out why Marc had come home with him instead of with Layla. All it ever did was made them fight, made them tense around each other, made the heartache and longing worse. He sounded small and hesitant when he said, “Can I stay with you when he leaves?”

Jake pursed his lips at Steven’s choice of words. “Sure,” he nodded. “Just make sure you remember that I’m not him.”

“I know,” Steven said, and it made his stomach churn. Jake and Marc might have been tied to the same soul, but they couldn’t be more different to each other. It wasn’t just the scent, it was the behavior, the mannerism, the mindset, the personality, everything. Steven wasn’t looking for a replacement. He just wanted someone who understood to be there with him. “Can I stay with you for a few days?”

Jake’s grin returned to his lips as he ruffled Steven’s curls. “Don’t hog the blanket. You know I keep a gun under my pillow.”

“Thank you for the hospitality,” Steven said dryly. “Very reassuring.”

“I aim to please, little dove,” Jake said smugly. “Now finish you breakfast, and for the love of fuck, don’t mope when I’m around. I’m a killer, not your therapist.”

Over the course of a few days, he adamantly ignored Marc’s texts. When he kept calling, Steven turned off the phone. Jake sighed and took out his cigarette as he handed Steven a stack of papers. It was Layla’s background and whereabouts, all the things that were more than what he had asked for. A particular detail made him feel like he was sucker-punched to the gut.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Jake said without looking at him. “Don’t say things you didn’t mean.”

Steven honestly didn’t even know what he wanted to say anymore. The small line on the paper was blurry in front of his eyes from how hard he was staring at it. He felt empty as he gathered his things around the room. His legs felt heavy, like they were tied to leads, and he was dragging his steps as he walked to the front door. He didn’t think he wanted to know in what way Marc could break his heart again.

But Jake’s words stayed with him. Don’t run away, little dove, you can’t outrun heartache. So, he walked out, and let his heart bleed even before Marc could shatter it.

Marc was on him immediately as soon as he stepped inside. His arms were tight, safe, as they wrapped around Steven. Marc’s familiar scent made Steven want to lean further into the embrace, made him want to cry and wish he’d never have these feelings to begin with. What use was talking this out if he already knew the bleak end? He wished that he stayed as a fracture of a mind, forever trapped within Marc, if only to never experience how it felt to have the man in his arms.

“I was worried something might happen to you,” Marc said against the skin of Steven’s neck, and he closed his eyes as he felt the warmth from those lips.

He wanted to stay in the embrace forever, to forget about anything and everything else. He was half-willing to stay in this stalemate, to ignore the mounting tension and desires, to be resigned to the fact that Marc would never claim him as his, to just be in this man’s arms for a short eternity, so he didn’t have to face the heartbreak. But the line was repeating endlessly in his head, and he pushed Marc away from him, arms weak and hesitant.

“Steven?” Marc called out, arms still holding around Steven’s shoulders. “Do you need some—oh.” Steven knew the exact time when Marc smelled Jake on him. He didn’t exactly hide it, didn’t think about hiding it. Couldn’t think of anything beyond the small line over Layla’s information. “You went to his place?” he asked, cautious, a clear displeasure he tried to keep out of his voice. He took a few deep breaths, and squeezed Steven’s shoulders. “It’s alright, Steven.”

It should be a reassurance, but to Steven, it felt like a confirmation instead. That Marc was willing to go to this length to keep him at bay, to create a distance between them that he had never wanted to cross. The stack of papers he had been holding, half-crumpled from how tight he had gripped it, he pushed it to Marc’s chest, who took it with a slight confusion.

Steven stepped away and put his bag on the table. He ambled away to his bed and sat on it, back turned towards Marc. He couldn’t bear to face the man when they talked about this. It was selfish, and perhaps, it was him running away. But his heart was breaking piece by piece and Steven was a weak, weak man towards Marc Spector. He wanted to be a coward if only to save himself a piece of his heart he could hold onto.

“Is that why you didn’t sign the papers?” he asked, voice soft. He heard Marc’s steps, padding towards where he was. Marc didn’t sit next to him, and though it hurt, Steven felt a little better about it. He didn’t think he could stop himself from begging Marc to stay if the man was to touch him again. “Because you have an unfinished bond with her? The mating bite didn’t take, did it? When you tried to call her, were you thinking of going back to her? To finish the bond?”

There was a heavy sigh, before Marc spoke. “Yes.”

Steven closed his eyes. He had expected as much, but it didn’t stop it from hurting so bad, an agonizing misery that spread throughout his body, made his lungs hollow so that ache could take place in their cradle. “Then go, Marc,” he said, couldn’t stop himself from breaking over the syllable. “Now you know where she is. You can go back to her.”

When Marc touched him, he didn’t fight it. All the anger, the frustration, the hope, they all fled him. All that was left was resignation. Marc’s face was somber, and he looked like he was barely holding himself back from pulling Steven into his arms again. “Steven,” he started, gentle and always so careful around Steven. “Did you ask Jake to do this?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. His eyes felt warm, the tears prickling yet unshed.

“Why?”

Why. Wasn’t that the question of the century? He laughed bitterly, and looked at Marc in the eyes. “You took my hand and took me home. You scented me over and over again. You don’t like it when other people are close to me. You don’t want me to be with someone else. You hold me close yet you keep me at an arm length. You smell like you want me, yet you look like you want to be anywhere but here.”

Marc listened to him. There was ache in his eyes, but Steven didn’t know what that meant. Didn’t know anything about him, at this point.

“If you don’t want me,” he continued, holding back his sobs, “if you really want to go back to her, then the least I could do was to make it easier for you. You can go, Marc. I won’t ask you to stay, I won’t ask you to have anything to do with me anymore.”

“Steven,” Marc said softly, cupping Steven’s face, eyebrows drawn together in visible pain when Steven couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. “Do you know why you wanted me to claim you?”

“Is that a trick question?” Steven asked between his sniffles. “Isn’t that obvious enough that I like you? My God, Marc, you know I’m bad at this. But I tried, because I thought you had wanted the same thing. Guess I thought wrong.”

“You didn’t,” Marc said, and Steven’s eyes snapped up at him, confusion coloring his gaze. Marc’s lips curled into a small smile, but the ache stayed in his eyes. “But I told you that we couldn’t. That we shouldn’t. Do you want to know why?”

Steven nodded, and waited with bated breath.

“You imprinted on me,” came the answer, and Steven reeled back from it. He didn’t understand, and there was a sliver of fear dredging up in his ribcage. He was starting to see why Marc was so adamant in refusing them both what they had wanted. “When we were in the boat, and we met for the first time, in different bodies. That’s when your alpha recognized me properly. When Jake and I came back for you on the Duat, that was when you imprinted on me. I know that you didn’t realize it, and I didn’t know how to tell you about it.”

“About what?” Steven asked, his throat suddenly dry, his voice rough. He almost didn’t want to hear the answer, because he knew that Marc would twist it into something his mind would make the most sense of, would change it entirely to satiate the self-hatred that Marc had for all his life.

“I didn’t know how to tell you, that what you’ve previously thought as affection and desires for me, are just something fabricated, because you latched onto the person you know the most, the person with the closest connection to you. You found out that your life is just one big, fabricated lie, and the only real thing was me. You are a part of me, and you unconsciously hold onto that.”

Steven was feeling sicker by the second, but Marc wasn’t done.

“You don’t want me, Steven,” he said with an empty smile. “You never did. You just thought that way because I’m the only one you ever trusted and knew with your whole heart.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He stared at Marc; incredulity written all over his face. “Are you even hearing yourself, Marc?” he asked, voice near hysterical from his shock. “Do you really believe all those bullshits?” Marc closed his eyes, inhaling deep, as if trying to retain his patience. But Steven didn’t want to hear any of this anymore.

“I like you not only because you’re a part of me! I like you because you protect me when you don’t have to, when you tried your best to make my life into something I could enjoy without all the bloodshed. I like you because you are who you are, because you’re stubborn and heartless at times, but you’re the kindest person I’ve ever known,” he heaved several gulps of air, and he let out a frustrated grunt when Marc still looked like he was watching a trainwreck, and he was helpless in the face of it. “I like you because you always use the same bloody cup each time we have breakfast and you keep complaining but you never stopped me from yapping about what I thought. I like you because you’re Marc Spector that I’ve come to love, not—not because of some bullshit spiel about me wanting you just because my alpha had mistakenly thought so. Why couldn’t you see that, Marc, please.”

“I know,” Marc whispered. But he looked down, the set of his strong shoulders now limp and hunched. “But that’s only the answer to one of the questions, isn’t it?”

Steven bit back a sob and fought the desperation clawing at his throat. He let Marc inch closer, let him take a few breaths before he was ready enough to look at Steven properly. He felt like he was looking at a dying man, and Steven didn’t know why.

“You’re all I ever wanted, do you know that?” Marc started, his smile a tad more genuine as he brushed away a stray curl from Steven’s eyes. He roved his gaze over Steven, settling on his lips for a moment, before he looked away, pain and shame rolling off of him in waves, so strong that it filled the whole room. “Because that’s what you’re meant to be.”

There was a stone sinking in Steven’s stomach when he pieced the fragments together. He closed his eyes, knowing what Marc was going to say even before the man continued.

“I was aware of you since I was a child,” Marc said, sounding nostalgic and wistful. “When I presented as an alpha… I- I couldn’t handle what happened to Mom anymore, because she was all the more hateful of my status, said that it was figured I’d turned into an alpha, into a mindless beast, a killer. I was lost and you were all I had. My alpha imprinted on you on my first rut.”

Steven’s heart seemed to break even further, the tiny pieces lay on the foyer of his heart, waiting to be blown away by the wind until he couldn’t find them anymore. Hopelessness filled him to the bone, replacing his anger and frustration.

“I didn’t finish the mating bond with Layla because I couldn’t,” Marc said, caressing the side of Steven’s face. “I went with you because you’re the only one my alpha recognized, everything it ever desired. You imprinting on me isn’t a mere coincidence, Steven.”

“No,” Steven whispered, shaking his head as if he could reject the reality. “Don’t—please, don’t, Marc. You don’t know that, you don’t—”

“You want me because you’re made to be,” Marc finished, laying the last blow. “I’m sorry, I truly am. I know that you love me, and that you’re sincere about it. I know you, Steven. I made you to be someone I wanted to be, someone I wanted to have as a companion in my life, someone I can escape to from my misery. But this… this isn’t love, this isn’t what you truly want. There is no freedom in your choice, because of my mistake. I’m sorry.”

Steven opened his eyes at last, and gripped the collars of Marc’s shirt. “Then why bother denying it? If I’m the one you wanted, if you made me to be a perfect mate for you, and I’m finally here, then why are you running away from it? I don’t care, Marc. I don’t care! Why should it matter that you made me to be like this? These are still my feelings, they’re real, and I still want you. Then why—why can’t we—”

Marc closed his fingers over Steven’s, his gaze soft and understanding. “Because I won’t be able to live knowing that you didn’t have a choice, that you didn’t get the chance to find someone you’d actually love, instead someone you’re made to love.”

“That’s not how it works!” he insisted, trying so hard to make Marc come to his senses. “You only wanted to go back to Layla because you thought it’s the only choice, because of a sense of obligation. Where’s the freedom in that? If- if I’m someone made for you, then why won’t you accept me?”

Marc made to pull away, but Steven took ahold of him, climbed into his lap to keep him in place. “If you thought that I imprinted on you because I’m a part of you, then why didn’t I imprint on Jake? Why didn’t he feel the same towards you, if this is only about our connected soul? Marc, please, why won’t you let us have this?”

“We can’t,” Marc repeated, but even his words started to lack conviction.

“But you still want me, don’t you?” he asked, and found his answer in the helplessness of Marc’s gaze. “Then you can have me. You don’t—we don’t need to have anything between us if you don’t want to. But don’t- don’t go back to her, stay, with me. I won’t go to anyone, either. I just want you, only you.”

The more he talked, the more Marc looked like he was pierced in the heart by a spear. He cupped Steven’s face and leaned up to press their foreheads together gently. “Don’t do this to yourself, sweetheart.”

Steven swallowed back an anguish sob and cradled Marc’s face. “Don’t go,” he whispered against Marc’s lips. “Please don’t let me go.”

Marc closed his eyes, sorrow in the flutter of his lashes. When he surged up to kiss Steven, all he could taste was the unshed tears and misery. But he was here, within Steven’s arms, staying despite everything. And even if this felt like defeat more than anything, Steven kept the broken pieces of his heart and offered them to Marc’s cold hands.

Even if there were no sunny days for them tomorrow, even if there was no warmth in the tangle of their lips, even if there was a yawning void between them, then Steven would take it. If the abyss was all he had, the only place he was heading towards, as long as Marc was there, then he’d willingly let himself fall.

Just so Marc wouldn’t let him go. Just so he could have this empty love for a moment longer.

#moon knight #shiki writes #from ao3 #marcsteven #jakesteven #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #a/b/o dynamics #alpha/alpha

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mygorgeousreality · 1 year

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alpha/beta readers needed!

hiiii. so my blog may not look it but i am a writer. i’ve started writing fanfic for one of my beloved fandoms, moon knight, that will be posted on ao3. it will be a y/n type of read. think marc spector x reader.

pleaaase comment if interested! 18+ and complete love for the system required 😛💗 bonus points if you’re poc!

#moon knight fic #moon knight #jake lockley fluff #marc spector fluff #marc spector fic #steven grant fic #steven grant fluff #marc spector #alpha reader #beta reader

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holylulusworld · 11 months

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Unwanted mate (Steve's version) - Angstober 29

Summary: Rejected. Humiliated. Left outside alone.

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!(fem) Reader

Warnings: angst, a/b/o, rejection, unrequited feelings, public nudity (non-sexual), shitty father, scenting, implied kidnapping (maybe?)

A/N: This is Steve’s version of this story Unwanted Mate (Bucky’s version)

Square filled for @steverogersbingo: D4: Maria Hill

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

In your world omegas are rare, sacred even.

This doesn’t mean every omega gets treated the way they deserve.

The time has come. The alpha of your pack has chosen your mate for you. He holds your elbow in a tight grip as he guides you along the endless hallways of the sanctuary.

Your heart thunders in your chest, and you silently pray this is not a dream. Alpha Prime chose the most desired alpha for you. The alpha of a befriended pack.

Steven Grant Rogers. He’s as tall and handsome as his name sounds on your tongue, and you hope he’ll be happy with your leader’s choice.

“I want you to be on your best behavior,” Alpha Prime whispers. “I know you are going to be a good omega for Rogers, but…he’s picky. Don’t anger him. He rejected a mate once. A bond with one of our omegas means a strong bond with his pack.”

“Yes, alpha prime,” you reply. “I know my place and will happily take my place next to the alpha you chose for me.”

You hide that Steve Rogers is the star of your restless nights. The first time you got a whiff of his scent you knew, he was your true mate. The blonde ignored your presence during get-togethers most of the time, but you are sure, he only tried to follow the strict rules of your pack.

No courting an omega if she’s not chosen. No contact with an unmated omega without the leader of her pack.

Walking next to the leader of your pack you try to remain calm, and not slick for the alpha he chose for you. Only the thought of being close to the alpha, and that he’ll touch you in front of your packs leaves you breathless.

“He will love you, my dear. You’re exactly what he wanted,” your leader says. “Sweet, smart, and…innocent.” Alpha Prime sounds a little less confident when you step toward Steve Rogers.

The alpha stands in the middle of the sanctuary, surrounded by the alphas of your pack and his. He dips his head to watch your leader and you get closer.

“Alpha prime of Moonstone,” Steve politely acknowledges your leader’s presence. “I see, you came with a gift.” He bows for you, and it makes your heart flutter wildly. “What can you tell me about her?”

“Alpha prime of Howling commando,” your leader reflects the respectful gesture. “This is Y/N Y/L/N. I chose her for you, Rogers of the howling commando.”

“I will consider your offering, Fury of Moonstone,” the alpha says. He holds out his hand for you. “Come here. Let our packs see you.”

You place your trembling hand into his large palm and allow Steve to lead you toward the middle of the sanctuary. “Don’t be afraid, doll. No one will hurt you here. You are among friends and allies.”

His voice is soft, but his eyes darken as you tremble in front of him. Steve shoves the thin robe you’re wearing down your shoulders, exposing your body to him and the packs.

“Omega,” Steve addresses you with your presentation. “Present for me.”

You immediately tilt your head to expose your untouched mating gland. Steve wraps his hand around your neck to run his thumb over your mating gland.

“Untouched in any way,” the leader of your pack casually says. It’s crude to talk about you like this, but in this world, it’s a normal procedure. He doesn’t mean to degrade or embarrass you. “She’s only yours.”

Steve hums, and drops his hand to your chest, warm hand running over one of your breasts. “So responsive,” he purrs feeling your nipple hardening under his touch.

The alpha leans closer to sniff at your neck, inhaling deeply. You only hope he can’t smell your arousal because you don’t want to be a needy omega close to this powerful alpha. “She smells pleasant but—”

Your breath catches in your throat as he steps away. Steve looks at you for a moment, considering his decision before he picks your robe up to throw it at you.

“She’s not the one I want,” the finalty in his voice makes every alpha in the room gasp. “I cannot mate her.”

The leader of your pack wraps you in his coat. He shakes his head at Steve as the alpha steps away, not sparing you another glance.

“You reject this perfect omega?” Your leader asks, stepping in front of you to protect you. The alphas of your pack follow his lead. They crowd you to make sure none of the foreign alphas tries to take advantage of your vulnerable state.

“I cannot mate her.”

Something inside of you breaks at his words. You don’t know what it is, but it causes physical pain. Breathing gets harder and you clutch your hands to your chest.

Moments ago, the alpha touched you gently, even called your scent pleasant only to reject you in front of all the alphas you know, and respect.

“So be it,” Fury booms. He turns his back on Steve, a sign of disrespect. “My dear, go with Maria. She will help you.” He softly speaks to you, nodding at his right-hand woman, and one of the rare female alphas in your pack. “Maria, make sure she’s comfortable after this disrespectful treatment.”

“I chose not to mate that omega,” Steve argues. “I have the right to reject her.”

“You rejected every omega so far,” Fury turns back around to glare at Steve with his good eye. “No one ever disrespected a member of my pack the way you did today. There will be no bond between our packs. Not now. Not ever.”

Fury’s words are final. He doesn’t listen when Bucky, Steve’s right-hand man and second in commando tries to reason with his leader. The leader of your pack walks away, and his pack follows him.

“And some of the scent killer please,” your voice is barely above a whisper today. After Steve rejected you in front of your pack, it’s hard for you to feel like yourself. Your bubbly personality got swallowed by the dark pit in your chest that Steve left of your heart.

“Which one?” The clerk politely asks. “Miss?”

“I’m not sure.” Unsure which scent killer you should buy you helplessly glance at the clerk. “Can you recommend one? I must hide my scent and never did this before.”

“No problem, miss. That’s my job. We will find the right scent killer for you.”

“She’s hiding in her room all day, alpha prime. All day she’s weeping and whimpering. We thought after you chose her to become Steve Rogers’ mate that she’d leave her home. What shall we do now? A rejected omega is worthless to her family.”

“You should not talk like that about your daughter,” Fury’s jaw ticks as he stares at your father. “Y/N did nothing wrong. She got wronged by Steve Rogers. I was sure she was the mate he wanted and then he rejected her without a reason. This is on me, not her.”

“Alpha prime,” your father gasps. “Don’t defend my unworthy daughter. Something must be wrong with her. She always had her head in the clouds, and her nose in a book. No wonder the alpha rejected her. Maybe we should send her to a convent.”

“What are you saying? This is insanity!”

“No alpha will claim her now, alpha prime. Another prime rejected her. There is no hope. She’s a liability, nothing else.”

“I’m responsible for her downfall, I’ll take the blame,” Fury raises to his full height. He uses his alpha voice to make your father pliant. “If you want to send her off, I’ll take her in. She will not be punished for my mistake.”

His scent hits you out of nowhere. For weeks you didn’t leave the house only to scent the alpha rejecting you close by the moment you left the safety of your sanctuary at Fury’s house.

“No,” you whisper and drop your gaze. “He can’t be here. I must—” You walk in the opposite direction to get away from his scent.

It must be a cosmic joke that you run into the alpha breaking you down to nothing after you managed to leave your bed for the first time in days.

“I knew it was you. Wait,” his voice makes you stop in your tracks. You want to fight your instinct, but his alpha command forces you to wait for him. “I scented you from across the street.”

Steve steps behind you to bury his face in your neck. “I need to go.” You weakly reply. “Let me go.”

“I scented you, and knew it was you,” he repeats while sniffing along your neck. “Fury took you away that day and didn’t let me explain things. I couldn’t mate you because of an old bond I had to break first.”

“I don’t understand…” you sniffle silently. “Please let me go.”

“My first omega, I lost her years ago. When we were both still so young. Barely grown pups. I wanted to be sure that I could move on and visit her grave. But the leader of your pack insisted on meeting you too soon. I wasn’t…ready,” he breathes in your neck. “I had to say goodbye to Peggy first.”

“It’s been months,” you argue. “You should find a new omega then. Maybe one suiting your taste and fulfilling your every wish.”

“I talked to your pack leader a month ago. He refused to let me court you,” Steve nuzzles you. “He said, I need to earn the right to court you, and that he won’t force you to become my mate.”

“I cannot become your mate. You rejected me. Our rules say, you lost the right to mate me,” you sigh feeling his nose brush your mating gland. “I cannot become yours, and I don’t want to. Not anymore.”

“I was a fool and tried to fight my instinct. I knew the moment you stood in front of me that I’d do anything for you, and I will,” he wraps his arms around your waistline. “I don’t give a shit about Fury’s rules. You’ll be mine…”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!steve rogers x omega!reader #steverogersbingo #a/b/o #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #female reader #kinktober vs flufftober 2023 #Unwanted mate (Steve's version) - Angstober 29

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perseephoneee · 5 months

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⭑ FIC RECS ⭑

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ 1k celebration

last updated: 04/15/2024

↳ as a writer, i'm always consuming things about my favs, and i thought it was time to share some of my favorites. every story here has likely been reread by moi a million times. also-- my psyche can be easily viewed by how many stories are under one individuals *cries*

SUPERNATURAL

every headcanon from @via-l0ve

her boys @octoberclidan. (tfw)

dances with team free will @octoberclidan

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ DEAN WINCHESTER

cruel summer (18+) @waynes-multiverse

ladies with experience (18+) @hintsofhoney

dean reads you wrong @zepskies

she's my siren (18+) @fatecantstopme

smoke eater (series) @zepskies

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ SAM WINCHESTER

a taste of summer @impala-dreamer

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ CASTIEL

dreaming (18+) @impala-dreamer

beautiful to me @impala-dreamer

angel alpha (18+) @crashdevlin

i'll watch over you @octoberclidan

if you will have me, i'm yours (18+) @gilverrwrites

neckties @supernaturalfreewill

love, by any other name @zepskies

peculiar @supernaturalfreewill

because of books @supernaturalfreewill

last night on earth (18+) @hollybell51

don't bet on it (18+) @hollybell51

his charge (18+) @impala-dreamer

sharing is caring (III) @zepskies

TEEN WOLF

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ISAAC LAHEY

sick reader @smellslikemultifandomimagines

aftercare @smellslikemultifandomimagines

hidden with isaac @scoopsahoy

mutual losing (18+) @smellslikemultifandomimagines

facesitting (18+) @smellslikemultifandomimagines

cruel summer @hotdogwillex

come back to me @hotdogwillex

cold feet, warm bodies (18+) @scoopsahoy

i'm gonna kiss you now @sourwulf

drunken confessions @teenwolffan-with-nolife

dream @rogershoe

fratboy!isaac (18+) (all time fav) @mermaidenisaacs

teaches you to kiss (18+) @mermaidenisaacs

prove me wrong (18+) @twjournals

VAMPIRE DIARIES

dating the mikaelsons @wholoveseggs

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ELIJAH MIKAELSON

hold (18+) @wholoveseggs

extra-extraordinary (18+) @wholoveseggs

blood bath (18+) @wholoveseggs

warmth (18+) @wholoveseggs

the result of naps @fitzs-trained-monkey

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KLAUS MIKAELSON

she knew better (18+) @klausysworld

distracted @theeoriginals

you bring me home @theeoriginals

sharp (18+) @theeoriginals

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KOL MIKAELSON

christmas khaos @wholoveseggs

goodnight kisses @kmikaelsonimagines

frustrations (18+) @madhatterbri

thigh socks (18+) @geminioriginalsimagines

proposal @kmikaelsonimagines

Christmas in dixie @fitzs-trained-monkey

bruised and battered @fitzs-trained-monkey

shots @so-long-soldier-writes

little favors @fitzs-trained-monkey

of ice skates and sugar cookies @fitzs-trained-monkey

ten minute blood stain removal @fitzs-trained-monkey

like a box of chocolates @fitzs-trained-monkey

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KAI PARKER

for my valentine (18+) @babeydollx

lace (18+) @geminioriginalsimagines

game on (18+) @socio-kai-path1972

kisses @socio-kai-path1972

why? @socio-kai-path1972

affinity romance (18+) @socio-kai-path1972

is it hot in here? (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

party crasher (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

sex tea (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

say it again (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

the red means (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

the price of hatred (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

spoiled (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

birthday girl (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

STAR TREK

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JIM KIRK/BONES

a well documented debacle @mybullshitsensesaretingling

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ PAVEL CHEKOV

sweatpants @youre-on-a-starship

MARVEL

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ LOKI

reformed villain squad @give-me-a-moose

overtime (18+) @cleo-fox

loki's happy ending @gingerwritess

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ BUCKY BARNES

graveyard @wkemeup

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ STEVEN GRANT/MARC SPECTOR

red flags (18+) @astroboots

HUNGER GAMES

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ FINNICK O'DAIR

oral headcanon (18+) @lucilleslore

darling and the virgin (18+) @wife-of-all-dilfs

TED LASSO

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JAMIE TARTT

chilly cheeks @veryberryjelly

about you @buckychristwrites

saved you a seat @benedictscanvas

operation: tartt's heart @theowritesstuff

DOCTOR WHO

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ TENTH DOCTOR

family christmas @writerlyhabits

gestures and evasion @doctenwho

before you go @doctorslove

falling in love again @doctorslove

CRIMINAL MINDS

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ SPENCER REID

virgin!spence (18+) @fortheloveofwonderland

i'd bottle the feelings you gave me @spencersfunkysocks

all the women he's loved before @fortheloveofwonderland

a helping hand (18+) @sinfulspencer

second date @samuel-de-champagne-problems

preciously pure (18+) @foxy-eva

STRANGER THINGS

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ BILLY HARGROVE

two ships passing in the night @hairringtonsteve

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gatorbites-imagines · 11 months

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Kinktober day 22

Steven grant, Marc Spector, and Jake Lockley + omegaverse

This is written in headcanon format, since I wanted to write about all three but couldn’t think of a way to involve all of them beside headcanons.

on the shorter side, but im still learning how to write omegaverse.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

Omega, but not the stereotypical omega. Hes fine taking care of himself, and isn’t weak or easily ordered around. Steven just likes to avoid conflicts, Marc and Jake wont back down from conflicts though.

Steven is an omega, so is Marc, but Jake is an alpha.

Physical body is omega, so even when Jake is fronting their body is still an omega, but Jake is immune to things like other alphas scent or when someone tries to scruff him or force him to submit.

Marc is mostly immune too, only buckling to you, his mate, but that’s because hes chosen to do so cuz he loves you.

Steven does enjoy making a nest in their bed, or wearing your clothes to cover himself in your scent. Marc doesn’t really make nests as a trauma response, and because he doesn’t feel as much of a need for it as Steven, he will bundle up some blankets though if he really needs it.

Steven’s scent is sweeter and milder than the other two, as I imagine their scent changes depending on who is fronting. The core smell is the same, but smaller changes happens so you can easily tell them apart, where others might struggle to do so.

Since their physical body is of an omega, they go into heat, but they tend to leave that to Steven since hes the only one who doesn’t despise it with his entire being.

Being in heat is uncomfortable of course, but Steven also enjoys it cuz it allows him to be taken care of by you and lets him put down his walls. None of them want pups though, so they always make sure to use protection.

Marc might front every now and then during heat when Steven is too exhausted, letting himself bask in his omega needs for a bit. Make sure to not treat him too stereotypically like an omega, he needs you to be rough and in charge, yes, but he will bite you if you try to scruff him or anything like that.

When Jake fronts during heats he just feels uncomfortable and very sweaty, so if he even does front, that’s when he showers and changes the sheets. That’s also when you can rest, as he just wants to cuddle and watch a movie or something.

Sex with them depends on who’s fronting. Steven likes to be taken with some power behind your thrusts, but he also loves slow and passionate lovemaking. Hes also the only one who liked being knotted, even if it won’t lead to pups.

Marc likes having some more power during, so he will ride you like a wild horse, growling and barring his teeth, making sure to scratch at your chest and leave hickeys all over.

Jake likes to do the fucking, be it bending you over the kitchen counter or up against the wall in the shower. He may not have a knot, but if you ever bought him a fake one to wear, he might bust right then and there as hed pounce on you immediately.

Your relationship would never lead to pups, as none of them want to get pregnant or would want you to carry. I just don’t think they’d be comfortable being parents, closest you’ll get is a pet, as they don’t wanna put an innocent kid in danger cuz of their night job.

This doesn’t mean your relationship is lacking anything though, as you guys find other things to find joy in, in your love life. It takes some time getting used too, but after a while it just becomes the norm, so no matter what others think you guys are happy.

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miguel-owhora · 25 days

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Howdy my fellow sigmas. Proud to announce, again, that I am going to be attempting Kinktober !!! and hopefully it doesn’t end the same way as it did before :3

Now then, I’ve decided to go the ‘easy’ way and select the kinks/fetishes for each day, but have you guys pick the characters. Or whatever. Some kinks/fetishes do repeat but ! who cares lmao. Feel free to use this list as inspo or something idk man

Anyways, here’s a list of character’s that I’ll write for, and the available days! I’ll update the slots with each req :)

Characters:

Miguel O’Hara , Peter B , Webslinger , Ben Reilly

John Price , Simon Riley , Kyle Garrick , John MacTavish , Phillip Graves, Vladimir Makarov

Steven Grant , Marc Spector , Jake Lockley

Arthur Morgan , Dutch Van der Linde , Hosea Matthews , Micah Bell , John Martson , Bill Williamson , Charles Smith , Javier Escuella , Kieran Duffy , Lenny Summers , Sean MacGuire

Slots :3

Watersports | Fear play | Semi-Public Sex - Miguel O'Hara

Face Fucking | Sex against Furniture | Fingering - Micah Bell

Sleepy Sex | Scent Kink | Knotting - John Martson

Begging | Blowjob | Mirror/Window - Dutch Van der Linde

Anal Fisting | Power Dynamics | Corset - Micah Bell

Masturbating Each Other | New Relationship | Omega/Omega - Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Dollification | Nipple Play | Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics - Micah Bell

Orgasm Control/Cum on Command | Feet Fetish | Piercings/Body Modifications - Miguel O'Hara

Titfucking | Corruption/Blasphemy Kink | Shower/Bath - Micah Bell

Animal Characteristics/Partial Transformation | Pillow Biting | Hog Tied - Arthur Morgan

Dildos | Mating Cycles/In Heat | Smelling Clothes - John Price

Praise Kink | Stuffing | Creampie - Ben Reilly

Choking/Asphyxiation | Fuck or Die | Sexual Punishment - Kieran Duffy

Boot Worship | Creampie in Throat | Hair Pulling - Micah Bell

Breeding Mount | Doggy Style | Genital Spanking - Arthur Morgan

Face Fucking | Strength/Power Kink | Deep Throat - Lenny Summers

Unprotected Sex | Armbinding | Spanking - Kieran Duffy/Mary-Beth Gaskill

Anal Cock Warming | Premature Orgasm | Dacryphilia/Crying Kink - Arthur Morgan

Squirting | Fuck or Die | Face Fucking - Kyle Garrick

Size Difference | Fingering | Pregnant Kink - Hosea Matthews

Oviposition | Predator/Prey | Mind Breaking - John Martson

Over-the-Knee Spanking | Puppy Play | Toys - John MacTavish

Cock Worship | Lactation | Vibrators - Miguel O'Hara

Weight Gain | Lingerie | Breeding - Dutch Van der Linde

Daddy Kink | Cock Worship | Cigarette Burns - Dutch Van der Linde

Gunplay | Hate/Angry Sex | Violence Kink - Miguel O'Hara

Sneaky Sex | Fingersucking | Anal sex - Hosea Matthews

Dry Humping/Grinding | Quickies | Cumming in Pants - Micah Bell

Knife Play | Blood Kink | Handjobs - Javier Escuella

Squirting | Cam Sex | Service Top - Bill Williamson

Author’s Choice? Perchance…

#mr. o'whora's works !#this shit took so long #uhhhhhh #across the spiderverse x male reader #atsv x male reader #cod x male reader #call of duty x male reader #moon knight x male reader #rdr2 x male reader #red dead redemption 2 x male reader #x male reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #arthur morgan x male reader #mlm #gay #gay smut #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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thezombieprostitute · 5 months

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Masterlist

By AU

Biker AU - Fate (Curtis Everett)

Coffee Shop AU - Barista!Steve Rogers

College AU - Tenure (Charles Blackwood, Curtis Everett) - Tutoring (Ari Levinson, Bucky Barnes, Lloyd Hansen)

Corporate AU - Tech Tuesdays (Multiple characters)

Fairy Tale AU - Magic (Jefferson/Mad Hatter)

Flower Shop AU - Flowers in Storms (Lee Bodecker)

Mafia AU - Changing Minds/Constant Change (Nick Fowler) - Dream Come True /Nightmares (Curtis Everett) - Hummingbird /Dragonfly (Steve Rogers) - Sparks Fly/Frayed (Mace)

Maid AU - Cleaning Up (Jonathan Pine)

Omegaverse - Alphas & Algorithms (Curtis Everett) - Beta!Reader (Bucky Barnes, Hal Carter)

Royal AU - Sir Everett (Curtis Everett)

Soulmate AU - All Your Lovin' (Captain Syverson) - Alpine (Bucky Barnes) - Lloyd's Soulmate (Lloyd Hanson) - Sleepy Surprise

Werewolf AU - Prologue (Hal Carter, Jake Jensen) - Werewolf Steve (Steve Rogers)

By Character (characters I've written more than a couple stories for)

Bucky Barnes

Curtis Everett

Hal Carter

Jake Jensen

Lloyd Hansen

Nick Fowler

Steve Rogers

Character Reactions

I need kisses

Tell me I'm pretty

Holiday Stories

Christmas - Baby's First Christmas (Curtis Everett) - Music in the Air (Bucky Barnes) - 'Tis the Season, Sir (Steve Rogers) - Last Christmas (Nick Fowler, Hal Carter)

Halloween - Laughingstock (Dark!Steve Rogers)

Valentine's - Lloyd's Valentine (Dark!Lloyd Hansen)

Miscellaneous

Always the Bridesmaid (Jonathan Pine, Nick Fowler)

Bad Day (James Mace) - Bad Day Alternate (Dark!Ari Levinson)

Bets (Bucky Barnes, Jake Jensen)

Bittersweet (Dark Skinny!Steve)

Cops and Robbers (Lee Bodecker)

Dandelion (Hal Carter)

Done This 100 Times (Mordecai)

Grumpy Days (Multiple characters)

In the Woods (Chris Beck, James Mace)

Missing You (Johnny Storm)

Museum Tours (Steven Grant)

Panic Attack (Walter Marshall)

Pen Pals (God the Bounty Hunter)

Photos (Jake Jensen)

Receiving Affection (Multiple Characters)

Retaliation (Dark!Jake Jensen)

Self-Care Weekend (Bucky Barnes)

Selkie Story (Mace)

Stickers (Bucky Barnes)

Stuck (Ransom Drysdale)

To the Rescue (Kyle "Gaz" Garrick)

Inspired by Others

Alpha to the Rescue (unnamed character)

Andrew's Downfall (dark!Andy Barber, dark!Lloyd Hansen)

Angry Ari (Ari Levinson)

At the Gala (Multiple Characters) - After the Gala (Harald Finehair)

At the Gym (Unnamed SStan character)

Bouquet Event Masterlist (Multiple Characters)

Charity Auction (Multiple Characters)

Detective vs. Mafia (Clark Kent, Steve Rogers, Walter Marshall)

Don't Open the Door (Curtis Everett)

Global Warming (God the Bounty Hunter)

Ice Cream (Hal Carter)

Jealous (Nick Fowler)

Kidnapped (Multiple Characters)

Quiet Night (Bucky Barnes)

Royal Security (Nick Fowler)

Sacrifice (Demon!Lloyd Hansen)

Secret Crush (Lloyd Hansen)

Speed Dating (Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen)

Too Old? (Unnamed Character)

Unexpected Guest (Curtis Everett)

#master masterlist #updated masterlist #please let me know if you think I'm missing any stories

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 3 months

Text

Emerald Hallow Chapter 4

Summary: Steve Rogers wants to move on. He wants to forget Peggy, and dive into the 21st century. But this man of the past doesn’t know how to navigate being an Alpha in a modern world of skittish Omegas. He prides himself on his self control, never wanting to harm or scare them, until something just smells too damn good…and he’s not the only one who notices.

**plus size reader

Warnings: abo!dynamics, smutty smut smut, name calling, eventual threesome, voyeurism, rough sex

Previous chapter Next chapter

Bucky and Y/N went on a date the next day. They spent all day together and then officially went out that night. Steve was home, feeling anticipation with only a little bit of worry. He wanted this to work. As strange and different as it was for him, he loved his mate and loved his best friend, and if they couldn’t get along past the physical attraction he was worried what that would mean for everyone in the future. By the time they got back Y/N was a giggly mess and Bucky looked like he was glowing.

“Looks like you had a good time,” Steve said, giving them both a playful glare.

Bucky fought a smile while Y/N gave him a wounded look and gasped, her hand pressed against her chest. “Steven Grant Rogers, whatever are you implying?” she said with an exaggerated Southern accent.

Steve laughed heartily as he stood to greet them. “Alright, don’t tell me,” he chuckled while giving her a quick kiss then hugging Bucky, giving him a peck on the cheek. Even though they had kissed they were both feeling like this was all very new and wanted to take it a little slow. Bucky smiled widely as he pulled away.

“We went to the Di’Angelo’s for dinner, then a walk to see some of the lights,” Bucky said.

“I’m sorry, Di’Angelo’s? Without me?” Steve accused, looking hurt.

“We got you something, don’t freak out,” Y/N rolled her eyes, producing a bag from under her coat.

“A large meatball sub with extra provolone, and a side salad,” Bucky rattled off Steve’s order, nudging his arm.

“Oooooh, gimme,” Steve said, giddily walking over to Y/N who held out the bag to him.

“A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. How cliche of you,” Y/N laughed at him as he took the bag and went to the kitchen to plate it.

“Don’t judge me!” Steve called out from the other room.

Y/N scoffed then turned to Bucky. “Thanks for today, Buck. I had fun.”

“No, thank you,” Bucky said, reaching for her hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “I enjoyed getting to know you more.”

“Me, too,” she answered quietly, gazing up at him with a soft smile. She reached her other hand up and cupped his cheek, her thumb rubbing along his cheekbone. He nuzzled into her palm and kissed it.

“Y’all are cute,” Steve’s voice came from the kitchen. They turned to see him with a shit-eating grin, holding a plate as he shoved his sandwich into his mouth.

“I think we’re all pretty cute,” Y/N retorted as she gave Bucky a quick hug. “Alright, I’m exhausted. I’m gonna take a shower and head to bed. You staying over, Buck?”

Bucky looked to Steve. Steve shrugged. “If you want to, I’m all for it. I didn’t get a California King bed for nothing.”

“Ooh a sleepover!” Y/N hopped up and down in place. “I call the middle! Sandwiched between two hunky super soldiers,” she wiggled her eyebrows. “Wet dream come true!” she smacked Bucky’s butt and laughed as she pranced to the bedroom. Bucky blushed, his eyes widening as he looked at Steve.

Steve laughed at the look on his face. “She’s a trip, man.” Bucky huffed a laugh.

After everyone was ready for bed they all settled into the bed together. Y/N was in the middle with Steve on her left and Bucky on her right. She sighed loudly. “Goodnight, loves,” she yawned. She turned to face Bucky while Steve pulled her back against his front. Bucky snuggled in close to her front, taking one of her hands and bringing it to his nose to inhale her scent as one of her legs tangled with his. Steve’s arm that was under Y/N’s pillow reached over and squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky turned his head and kissed Steve’s knuckles.

“Goodnight,” Bucky sighed.

“Goodnight,” Steve said, a small smile on his face as he pressed his nose into Y/N’s hair.

He was excited for what the new day would bring.

***

The next morning Steve slowly woke up as the sun shone through the blinds in his bedroom onto his face. He snuggled closer to Y/N, placing a kiss into her hair. A low hum came from her and Steve looked down confusedly. It was Bucky cuddled up close to him, not Y/N. She had already left the bed, the sounds of pots and pans clanging coming from the kitchen, the smell of pancakes wafting through the apartment. Steve smiled and gave Bucky a squeeze, kissing his hair again.

“‘Morning, Buck,” he said hoarsely as his fingers ran up Bucky’s back.

“G’mornin’,” Bucky yawned, nuzzling further into Steve’s neck, inhaling at his scent gland. He pressed a soft kiss to Steve’s neck, reveling in the closeness that they were still getting used to. “Something smells good.”

“Y/N’s cooking,” Steve replied, running a hand through Bucky’s hair. Bucky looked up at him. Steve had always thought Bucky to be very handsome, but seeing him like this, first thing in the morning, with his big blue eyes being highlighted by the sunlight made his cheeks blush.

“What?” Bucky asked, seeing Steve’s face redden.

“Nothing, you’re just…beautiful,” Steve said, smiling softly.

Bucky smiled widely, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Beautiful?” Steve nodded. “I think you’re beautiful,” Bucky said, his own blush lighting up his face.

Steve smiled then leaned down, his nose brushing Bucky’s as he stared into his eyes. His eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips, then he slowly closed the gap and kissed him. Bucky’s grip on Steve tightened as he deepened the kiss, pressing himself as closely as possible to Steve’s body. Their legs tangled together, hands gripping each other, as Steve opened his mouth and licked Bucky’s lower lip. Bucky hummed again, opening his mouth to taste him back, his tongue delving into Steve’s mouth.

Steve still couldn’t quite comprehend that this was happening. The kiss was different than with Y/N, what with both of them having beards, but also different in style. Y/N was at times needy but almost always followed Steve’s lead, whereas with Bucky it was like they were fighting for who was more needy, who would undo the other first. It must have been the Alpha within them both, making it almost like a competition.

Steve’s contemplation was interrupted as Bucky shifted to lift himself up and hover over Steve, his metal hand moving down his back to his butt, palming the cheek roughly and bringing his hips forward to Bucky’s hips. Steve could suddenly feel the bulge of Bucky’s cock in his boxers, and as it rubbed against his cock he gasped into Bucky’s mouth. Steve had never given up his position as the leader when it came to intimacy or sex, and although his Alpha instincts weren’t happy with him surrendering, his body was thrumming with excitement. His hand was shaking as he reached down and palmed his own cock, slightly touching Bucky’s. Bucky’s hips jerked against him, his metal hand reaching around and palming his own cock as well.

Steve gripped his cock and pumped it a few times before reaching over for Bucky’s, slipping past his boxers and replacing his hand with his own and starting to stroke him. Bucky moaned then reached and took Steve’s cock in his hand. The metal was cool, making Steve shiver, but felt wonderful against his skin. As they jerked each other off the kissing became more lewd and messy. After a while Bucky pulled down his boxers and Steve’s and then pushed their cocks together and gripped both of them in his metal hand, jerking the both of them off at the same time.

“Fuck…Bucky…” Steve moaned before Bucky covered his mouth again. Bucky sucked at his lower lip, nipping it lightly, then licked in his mouth and started sucking on his tongue at the same speed that he was jerking them off. Steve groaned loudly and stiffened as Bucky stroked them two more times before he whimpered and came in Bucky’s hand, coating his fingers and part of his hips with himself.

Bucky let go of his tongue and looked down, tugging them both a few more times to make sure he got all of what Steve had before he came, a strangled moan falling past his lips as he watched himself cum all over Steve’s lower stomach. When he finished he fell back, releasing their cocks and breathing heavily. As they lay next to each other Steve looked over at Bucky, who met his gaze and they both smiled, chuckling a little bit, until a faint knock on the door surprised them.

Y/N was leaning against the doorway, her hand still raised at the door as she stared at them. She did not look happy, a small frown and a frustrated look on her face. “Have fun without me, boys?”

Steve and Bucky sat up quickly. “Hey, love,” Steve said, feeling guilty. “We were just–”

“Breakfast is ready. See y’all at the club tonight,” she said in a clipped tone. She turned to leave before stopping and looking back at them. “You’ve just started a war. And I play dirty.” She swiftly gathered her things and headed for the front door.

“Y/N, hey wait,” Steve called out, trying to clean himself up as he got out of the bed. Bucky lay there in shock, unsure what to do. Before Steve could reach her she slammed the door. Steve looked at Bucky with wide eyes.

“What did she mean she ‘plays dirty’?” Bucky asked, looking worried.

“I don’t know,” Steve said, sitting back down on the bed. “We should have talked this over with her. Figured out boundaries. Fuck…” he groaned, rubbing his face with his clean hand.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry?” Bucky said, looking at Steve. He scooted over to Steve. “I’m not sorry we did that. I think we needed that, to get over the…the hesitancy between us. But I am sorry that I overstepped the bond between you two,” he said guiltily.

“It was just as much my fault,” Steve said. He looked Bucky over and smiled. “You have sex hair.”

“What?” Bucky gasped and tried fixing the hair at the back of his head.

“Let’s shower and figure out what to do about this,” Steve said as he stood and headed towards the bathroom.

“Mmh, let’s shower,” Bucky said, following Steve with a wicked smile on his face.

#marvel #smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #alpha!steve rogers x omega!reader x alpha!bucky barnes #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!bucky barnes #omega!reader #omegaverse #abo #chapter 4 #series fanfic #emerald #halloween #stucky

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rodolfoparras · 4 months

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLEdJe8C/

Price??? Dragon Price??? Omega reader and alpha Price fucking doggy style while reader tears through his back????? Just an Idea????

Anyyyways

I changed my theme again from Mr. Steven Grant, to Mr. Jason Todd from Boy Wonder and now my blog is red instead of blue and it jumpscares me every time

-🐧

Yeah but when I say old dragon price who hasn’t had Mate ever meeting you who’s so much younger than him inexperienced in every way hot headed- and finding out you’re destined to be together he scoffs at that actually scoffs because he hasn’t spent so many years waiting for something like this he makes it clear he isn’t interested turns down any attempts at courting him even though every cell in his body is begging him to accept you and one day you have enough and get into a fight and you know he’s suprised but he’s not appalled and you’re tusssling back and forth for hours until you finally pin him down to the ground and he’s like what not kid you going to try and rip me a pair of wings? And it’s said in such mocking tone that it sends a wave of adrenaline straight to your body which in turn results in you actually sinking your teeth into him and ripping him a pair of wings and he’s just looking at you wide eyes cheeks flushed cock hard as ever

#alec answers #🐧 anon

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erinptah · 1 year

Photo

Team Moon Knight meets the Beaubier headmates!

Steven as the “I know how scary it is to wake up in the middle of a fight your maniac headmate dragged the body into” one, Jake as the “I get how much it sucks when your headmate doesn’t appreciate how much you protect them” one.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight fanart #Alpha Flight #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Aurora Beaubier #Jeanne-Marie Beaubier #Ptah's fanart #Cover of Knight #Beaubier system

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sarahowritesostucky · 5 months

Text

📖"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.”

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