#steve dreams/hallucinates bucky during his abuse under hydra as a coping mechanism

[cronchevans]

lock fair daylight out

After a long hiatus, mod han has returned. And they’ve brought the angst for all their little masochists. You might wanna hold onto something. This is about the time that Pierce actually let ws!steve keep his pup.

warnings: rape/non-con, htp (hydra trash party), physical/emotional abuse, dissociation, victim grooming

The asset had done well. The proof was cradled in his arms. A little pup with bright blue eyes and a mess of wispy red curls atop her head. The director who’d put her in his womb did so at a dinner party, all trussed up and spread open on the long, mahogany table, a red ballgag keeping him a drooling mess and a speculum in his ass to hold him open, keep him drooling from that end too. His legs were folded beneath him, his arms bound backward and attached to ankle cuffs, forcing his bottom into the air and keeping his chest pressed helplessly to the cool wood. He was the main course; his mission this time was to please. To please everyone. 

The asset blessedly didn’t remember too much, never does. He was drugged to the gills with hormones to force him into heat and an aphrodisiac to force his little cock to get hard and his hole to get wet. they liked to pretend that he was enjoying it. At least this time they didn’t make him beg - the gag meant they wanted him quiet. The asset complied. He only cried out once, when the director shoved into him dry, forcing his partially inflated knot past the asset’s rim. The director fucked him rough and fast while everyone at the table all watched, marveling at the sight of the infamous winter soldier being reduced to nothing more than a hole and a womb. It was an honor to watch the next fist of Hydra be conceived. And once the director had planted his seed inside the soldier, he was there for the consumption of the other esteemed guests to do with as they pleased. Seven months after that and the director from the party was dead, assassinated by one of his own guards. Alexander Pierce was nominated as temporary director until a more seasoned member could take over. And the asset had never seen anyone like him before. None of the other directors had an easy charm or glittering eyes the way he did. Something about him made the asset want to obey, to follow him around like the lost pup he was. He wasn’t cruel like the others. He gave the asset treats when he was good and doled out reasonable, deserved punishment when he was not. The asset found himself wanting to please Pierce, seeking out the brief head pats and desperate for a kind touch. The asset’s dedication to Pierce became solidified after the birth of his pup. Something about the way she was wailing in his arms, the way the soldiers had their fingers on the trigger, made the asset very nervous, a sense of foreboding looming over him. He didn’t remember what had happened before, but some part of him knew he didn’t want to let it happen again. The soldiers shuffled closer and the asset shuffled back, clutching the screaming bundle to his chest, a snarl curling his lips. “Mine!” he barked, growling when any of the soldiers approached. The asset hardly ever spoke - he wasn’t allowed. Nor was he allowed to disobey a direct order. This was a new, unexpected reaction. The strike team fully expected for Pierce to take the pup and punish the asset before shoving him back into cryo. It went the opposite actually. Pierce strode into the dirty medical cell, expensive shoes kissing the cement floor. He knelt down to the asset’s eye level and immediately the asset cowered, darting his tear filled eyes down; he knew better than to look anyone of a higher status in the eyes, and knew even better still about what showing fear got you. Pierce then cupped the asset’s face in his hands, bringing their gazes together, and the asset whimpered as though he’d been shot clean through. “You’ve been a good boy, Asset,” Pierce remarked. the blonde preened internally at the praise, meager as it was. “I think you deserve a treat,” he added lowly, conspiratorially, as if what was being said was a secret for only him and the asset to know. “Would you agree?” The asset was unsure about the desired answer. Weapons do not have opinions, they cannot agree. But Pierce’s eyebrow was raised sternly, the grip on his face was tightening, so the asset knew an answer was expected, but what was he to say? He decided not to answer at all, rather pose a question of his own in response. “Please?” The asset’s voice was no louder than a whisper. This seemed to be an acceptable answer because Pierce’s mouth did that funny thing where he almost smiled but didn’t, so it ends up looking more like a grimace. It lit the asset up inside though; that look meant he had done well, that he was a good boy, and completed his mission in the correct way. And then, much to everyone’s confusion, Pierce tilted the asset’s head down just a bit and pressed a reverent kiss to the center of his forehead. The asset blinked away tears of surprise. “You truly have been a gift to mankind,” murmured the director. The asset furrowed his brow in confusion, a faint whimper leaving his lips when pierce gently pulled the sheet down from the crying pup’s face and chest, revealing her to all in the room. “Look at what you have given us. With this precious little one, we will create a new fist of Hydra. we will balance the scales and bring peace to the world.” Pierce tilted the asset’s face upward to bring their eyes together once more. This time the asset made no sound. “She will become like you.” Something ached in the asset’s left shoulder, pulling at it, heavy and dark. He turned to look down at the gleaming silver metal with a vague sense of fear. At his chest, the little pup wriggled against him, bringing the asset’s attention back downward. He didn’t want her to become like him. “You have done well,” Pierce praised again. He went to stand, waving away the guards who immediately raised their weapons, trained on the asset. “As a reward, you may keep the pup. You will raise her and when the time comes, relinquish her to fulfill her destiny as the soldier who will save us all. That is your new mission. What do we say?” “Ready to comply.” The asset’s voice broke. “Thank you, sir.” The director and the strike team filed out, leaving the asset alone in the dark, damp cell with the restless pup at his chest. He was even more confused now than he was before. The director wanted him to raise a pup? He wasn’t trained to be gentle - how was he supposed bring up this small, soft little thing? In a place like this? The baby started fussing, clumsily fumbling at the asset’s uncovered chest, her hands smacking at his swollen nipples. He winced and whined in confusion at the pain and the white liquid dribbling from his chest. He was...lactating? There was a ghost feeling of other hungry little mouths pulling at his chest. Had he done this before? Slow and unsure, the asset adjusted the pup in his arms, fitting her snuggly against him. She pressed her cheek to him, mouthing at the skin around his nipple. “No,” he whispered to her, shifting the pup once more and turning her so that she faced him more directly. The asset pushed his chest out. “Here.” The little pup latched on nearly immediately, sucking greedily at the asset’s chest. He sighed as an odd feeling of relief and satisfaction flowed through him. It wasn’t sinister the way it was when he gunned down a target, when he saw red smeared upon his hands. It was light, the way he felt with the man in his dreams when he’d been put on ice. The asset closed his eyes as his pup nursed from him. It was quiet for the most part. sometimes when it was quiet enough, the asset could hear the man come to him. He wanted to show the man this beautiful little thing he’d made. How good he’d been to be allowed to keep her. But the asset should have known better. By the nature of what he was, he should have known there was no good left in him, no way for him to truly be able to keep his pup. She’d barely hit the one month mark before they came for her. The asset had been displaying erratic behavior - possessively marking his territory, nesting, and aggressively attacking anyone who came too near his cell. He’d also came fatefully close to failing two consecutive missions, once getting captured and tortured for information before completion, the second, the Asset’s position was compromised because his mind was elsewhere, causing him to suffer field-impairing damage. He’d finished without another hitch after that second unfortunate incident, however the damage had been done; he had been seen. Now Pierce was at his cell door, hands casually in his pockets and looking incredibly disappointed. “You really have done a poor job,” he sighed as he unlocked the cell door. The asset quickly wrapped the babbling pup in her sheet and backed up against the far wall. Pierce stomped through his nest on his way in, causing the asset to whine in distress. That was for his baby, he’d made that for his little pup, so that she’s be able to have at least one comfort in this god forsaken place. “Please,” the asset begged. He nuzzled the pup up to his chest, pushing his nipple past her little mouth to calm her, distract her. And maybe, if they saw him taking care of her, they’d see that he was a good omega, a good asset. “Please, sir...I’m s-sorry, please...” Pierce backhanded him. “Be silent.” The pup gurgled between them. “Hand over the child. This has been a poor experiment indeed.” Pierce clicked his tongue in disappointment. “And to think I advocated for you to keep it.” “I can - I can do better,” the asset mumbled, hugging the baby to him tightly. “P-please let me keep her.” I love her went unspoken.

Pierce nodded his head as he sucked on his teeth. “Weakness,” he said. “Fear. Begging? These are diseases. And they will rot you to the core -” The director held out his arms. “- if you do not give up the child.”

The asset gasped in weak despair, staring down at his pup; she was clasping onto two of his metal fingers, blinking up so beautifully and trusting.

Stevie, baby, you can’t give her to ‘im.

The asset jerked his head up, looking around the room frantically. He’d heard the man, the man was here. It’d been so long since he dreamed of him.

I know she ain’t mine, I wish we coulda had one of our own babydoll, but you can’t give her up. The asset felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. She’s yours, she can be ours. Don’t let ‘em hurt her, Stevie.

“Ours?” the asset whispered. Pierce narrowed his eyes, not trying so hard to disguise his annoyance anymore.

“What did you say, soldat?”

“She’s...ours…” he spoke dazedly, as if in a trance. “Can’t...he said so...said I can’t....”

“Who said so? Soldat?” Pierce snapped his fingers, but the asset didn’t notice. He was still looking around, looking for the man with the grey eyes and the pretty smile.

What happened next was a blur, punctuated with pain and screaming and the prick of a needle. One moment, the asset was pressed back against the wall while desperately clinging to his pup, and the next he was facedown on the floor, his pup nowhere to be seen. His head felt fuzzy. And when he tried to stand up, he couldn’t. Pierce’s foot was pressed down on the center of the asset’s back, pushing him down against the floor. Physically, Pierce didn’t stand a chance, the asset could have him neutralized in less than five seconds. Pierce was the director, mentally pulling puppet strings. The asset knew not to react, but the thought of his pup made him throw caution out the window. Physically, he didn’t move; inside he was thrashing. Belatedly, the asset realized that he was crying.

“It really is a shame,” sighed Pierce in feigned disappointment.

The asset heaved a sob. “M-my ba-aby…” He scraped his forehead across the floor. “Plea - please give her back…” He wasn’t allowed to ask - oh what they would do to him if he asked - but that was his pup, his little spot of sunshine.

“I’m afraid not.” Pierce motioned the remaining strike team out. They shut the door with a loud clang, deadbolting it shut. He then took his foot off the asset’s back, knowing the omega would stay put. “I’d like to share some exciting news,” the director said as he came around in front of the asset, kneeling down. He lowered his voice, as if in conspiracy, saying, “Just between the two of us.” The asset continued to sniffle, keeping his face to the floor. “I’ve just been appointed to the position as...” Pierce paused to savor the word, “permanent director of Hydra.”

The whole of the asset’s body jerked as if uncontrollable and Pierce’s laugh scraped down his spine. The director petted his hand through the omega’s hair as he sobbed.

“You know what that means, don’t you?” he taunted, playing with the fine blonde hairs at the nape. “You’re going to have my pups.”

Stevie! The asset heard. Stevie, they drugged you, baby they put you in heat. You gotta get outta there!

Abruptly, the feeling of fire inside his veins increased tremendously and the heat pooling below his navel was acutely more intense. Only one thing felt like this. The asset began to panic, limbs trembling, yet unable to move.

“My baby,” he whimpered, tears streaming down his face and snot bubbling out of his nose, shaking desperately. “P-please...just want m-my pup again…”

“Don’t worry,” crooned Pierce as he got up and began to move behind the asset. He heard the jingle of a belt buckle being undone and the panic re-ensued. The asset whined helplessly, trying to get away and failing. He felt cold hands run down his sides to grab at his hips; the asset yelped. “You’ll be having another one real soon. You might not be the best mother, but you are the best fuckhole and womb.” Pierce chuckled like he’d made a joke. “Or so I’ve heard.”

Don’t hurt him! Get your hands off him you slimy son of a bitch! The man from his dreams was raging as Pierce wetted his cock with slick from his hole. It felt wrong when arched his back in perfect presentation, wrong when he pushed inside. No, not my omega! He’s my mate you motherfucker - stop it, stop it, you’re hurting him! Baby, oh god, my omega...my baby…

‘My omega’? The asset didn’t remember belonging to anyone other than Hydra.

The room was filled with skin slapping against skin and silence, white liquid pooling beneath the asset’s chest as he ached inside and out for his pup, for her sweet little mouth on him. The asset swirled his fingers in the mess, Pierce still grunting from behind, and stuck them in his mouth, sobbing at the taste of his own milk. He cried quietly while Pierce had his way, accompanied by the crying of the man as well, a melancholic symphony of sorrow, which only two tethered souls could share from beyond even the grave.

Who are you? The asset wanted to ask aloud; he didn’t understand why this man was behind his eyes, why he was so kind and beautiful when no one else in his world was.

“Who am I?” Pierce panted, digging in nails into the asset’s skin. “Say it, Soldat.”

I’m your Bucky, the man said with tears in his voice.

The director’s knot began catching at his rim with every thrust.

What am I? The asset asked the man.

“Say it.”

You’re my omega, you’re Stevie. I’ve loved you since we were thirteen.

‘Love’? The asset didn’t remember that either.

You know me, insisted the man. I’m your -

“Fucking say it!”

The asset gasped and for a single, brief moment, he remembered. Calloused hands, strong sun-tanned arms, a sea salt breeze and sticky sweet lips on his - they all came in a rush and were gone just as fast. But, it was enough. It was enough to remember, the man was -

“Alpha….” Steve breathed out in ecstasy. Light exploded behind his eyes and the man - Bucky - smiled, and god it felt like what he imagined love would feel like, soft and safe and warm.

Pierce rutted into him twice more before spilling inside him. Pierce thought it was for him, his hopeless plea for his alpha. But it wasn’t for him. It was for Bucky, his Bucky, to whom he truly belonged.

Leave me a comment to validate me, I’d love to know what you think. This is a test run for a new blog. xxx