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estrellami-1 · 1 day ago

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March Mating Madness

Day 1: Courting Rituals

I’ll Do (Anything for You)

Ao3 Link

This is a part of the Tell Me ‘verse! This fic takes place during Tell Me (Just Enough), but can be read as a standalone fic.

“So,” Eddie starts. They’re sitting on his couch, and he’s holding Steve’s hands. This feels strangely like an intervention, and Steve’s getting nervous.

“Um,” he says. He thinks his hands are getting sweaty. He knows he’s probably scenting something awful. “Yeah?”

“Nothing bad,” Eddie promises. “Just. You know you didn’t get to be courted the way you deserve.”

Steve softens. “Eddie, I don’t care about any of that. I have your vest, I have your bite-”

“No, I- I know, sweetheart. I know you got used to getting less than you deserve and I know this is normal to you now, but I will never stop trying to make you understand that just because that’s how it was doesn’t meant it’s how it should be. Because how it should be is you should have a whole lot more gifts than you do. I gave you the vest because you ripped up your shirt to make bandages, darling, not because I like the way you look in it. Though,” he grins, “I do like the way you look in it.”

Steve sighs. “So that’s it? You’re going to court me? And I get no say in the matter?”

“Um.” Eddie squints. “Do you… not want to be courted?”

“Well,” Steve draws out, which means he does and is being a little shit about it. Eddie grins. “If you’ve already decided, then there’s no reason for me to care either way, is there?”

Eddie chuckles. “Just you wait, baby, I’m’a blow your socks off.”

Steve chuckles back. “I can’t wait.”

“First things first,” Eddie says, and takes off a ring, “Steven Elias Harrington, I’ve come to state my intent to formally court you. By accepting this ring, you will be accepting my courtship. I will swear, as your Alpha, to always keep you safe, healthy, and happy, to the best of my abilities. I will swear, as your Alpha, to provide for your every need and want. I will swear, as your Alpha, a safe place to lay your head at night, and a safe place to rear any and all pups you may want. If this pleases you, then please, accept my first token, so I may begin courting you.”

“Why the fuck am I crying,” Steve wonders, laughing at himself even as he takes the ring. “Of course I’ll accept your courtship, Eddie.”

Eddie, kneeling on the ground in front of the couch, does a goofy little fist pump and reaches for a tissue for Steve. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.”

Steve shakes his head. “Good tears. Come cuddle me?”

“Always,” Eddie agrees immediately, clambering onto the couch behind Steve.

Steve relaxes back onto him, letting out a sigh and going boneless. “Y’know something?” He murmurs.

“What’s that?”

“You feel just right. The couch hurts my back a little, no matter what pillows I add or take away. But you fit every bump of my spine perfectly. ‘S like I was made for you.”

“I’m choosing to believe you were,” Eddie murmurs. “There’s gotta be some reason we’re scent-compatible.”

Steve snickers. “I guess so.” He snuggles into Eddie. “Tell me?” He asks quietly.

“I love you,” Eddie tells him immediately, whispering it into the nape of his neck.

“Baby,” Eddie calls, skipping into the Harrington house one day. “I’ve got something for you!”

“Oh,” Steve says, “Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie frowns. “You don’t sound too good, baby, are you feeling okay?”

Steve sniffles, shakes his head. Grabs a tissue and blows his nose. “‘S just a cold. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t doubt it, sweetheart, but why don’t we get you in bed? I’ll make you Wayne’s trailer park-famous chicken noodle soup.”

“Don’t wanna be in bed,” he says. “‘S boring.”

“Then how about we camp out on the couch? Make a quick little nest here, I can grab some things from upstairs for you, and you can convalesce on the couch where you can watch movies. Does that work?”

Steve considers it, then nods. “You said you have something for me?”

“Ah,” Eddie says, “yes, right, here-” he holds up a bag. “I, uh, know they’re not super high quality, but… well, I know you get migraines a lot, and sunglasses are supposed to help. Is what I was told.”

Steve sniffles. His eyes look more watery than before. “Eddie,” he says, then doesn’t say anything, just stares at Eddie with big teary eyes. Eddie starts to panic.

“Do you hate them? I can return them! I can- I didn’t spend that much, honest, and maybe it’s a shit courting gift but-”

Steve shakes his head, pulls Eddie into a hug. Scent-marks him. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Eddie relaxes, supports him in the hug best he can. “You’re welcome,” he murmurs. “Now go sit down, baby, I’ll make you some food, okay?”

“M’kay.” Steve sniffles. “Is food gonna be part of courting?”

Eddie chuckles. “I guess it usually is, isn’t it? Do you want it to be part of courting? I had a plan for that, but if you’d rather skim through, we can do that too.”

Steve shakes his head. “I want whatever you’ve got planned.”

Eddie smiles, presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Then maybe this’ll halfway count,” he tells Steve. “Maybe when you’re feeling better I’ll stay the night. Maybe I’ll wake up before you, sneak downstairs, and make a full spread. What do you want? Pancakes? Waffles? French toast? Fuckin’… the little French pancakes?”

Steve giggles. “They’re called crepes.”

“Crepes, then.”

Steve giggles again. “Pancakes maybe?”

“Pancakes I can do.”

“Maybe… maybe we could have blueberry and chocolate chip?”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, “I’ll give you anything in the entire world you could ask for, but blueberry and chocolate chip?” He shakes his head. “Now you’ve gone too far, baby, it’s turning into anarchy, seriously, blueberry and chocolate chip? Alert the media. Call CNN.”

Steve giggles into Eddie’s neck. “So… just blueberry?”

“Baby, I’d invent flavors for you if you said you wanted dragonberry. You want blueberry and chocolate chip? I’ll put both in the same damn cake if you want ‘em.”

Steve giggles again. “No, just separate.”

“I can do separate,” Eddie promises him. “Any other requests?”

Steve peeks out from Eddie’s neck to peer up at him. “Hashbrowns?”

“Oh, baby, now you’re speakin’ my language! Hell yeah we can do hashbrowns!” He grins at Steve’s giggle, then presses another kiss to Steve’s forehead, then one to each of his cheeks for good measure. “Now go sit down,” he tells the omega. “I’ll go grab nest things from upstairs. Anything in particular you want?”

“Robin’s flannel,” he says immediately. “And…” he bites his lip, worries it, shakes his head. “That’s it, I think.”

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs. “Remember how I’d invent flavors for you?”

A giggle. “Yeah?”

“Tell me what you want. Whatever it is, I can get it for you.”

“There’s a black blanket? It’s really soft but it’s kinda near the bottom.”

“I know the one,” Eddie promises. “You want a pillow too?”

Steve shakes his head. “Not while I’ve got you to be my pillow.”

“Always,” Eddie promises, pushing him toward the couch and moving past it up the stairs.

He grabs the things Steve requested, then pauses, pulls his t-shirt off, pulls his undershirt off—a beat-up old faded black tank top— and puts the t-shirt onto a pillow.

He rummages through Steve’s pajama drawer, grabs a t-shirt that boasts something about the whitest beaches, and slips it on.

He makes his ways back downstairs with his bounty, handing over first the blanket, then Robin’s flannel. At Steve’s questioning look, he hands over the last two items. “My t-shirt on a pillow, for while I’m cooking, and my undershirt. It should have more scent on it, even if your nose is too stuffed up to really smell, this one should scent some.”

Steve’s eyes go big and watery again. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Eddie smiles, cups his cheek, presses a long kiss to his forehead. “I think,” he murmurs, “there’s very little I wouldn’t give you already. And I think I’m only a little bit in love with you, compared to how I could be. How I will be.”

Steve nuzzles into Eddie’s hand in response, then leans back and gazes at Eddie with such unabashed love in his eyes that Eddie has to look away, has to head to the kitchen and start cooking, so he can blame the flush in his cheeks on the heat from the stove.

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs in sing-song, peeking into his room. Steve’s awake, if just barely, light dappling over his back, eyes blinking in long, slow sweeps as he fights the siren’s call. He rouses himself a little, sleep-clumsily turns onto his side, humming at Eddie, who walks in with a little coo and kneels at the side of the bed. “Did I wake you?”

Steve hums again, extends a hand to grab at Eddie’s shirt; not to pull, just to hold, to anchor. “Eddie,” he murmurs, which both is and isn’t an answer. “Y’here.”

“I am here,” Eddie agrees, brows furrowing a little. “Have a bad dream, sweetness?”

Steve hums, fists Eddie’s shirt again, tighter. “Not… bad. Jus’… not good.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Eddie murmurs, petting over Steve’s fist. “How can I fix it?”

“Y’are,” Steve tells him, tiredly earnest. “Y’here.”

Eddie’s heart explodes into a million pieces. “I am,” he whispers. “I’ll always be here, if you need me.”

Steve hums, squints at Eddie’s neck, but doesn’t want to let go of Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie does it for him, dragging his hand up first to kiss, then to slide over his scent gland.

“Y’scent different,” Steve mumbles. “More… flowery.”

Eddie chuckles. “I don’t think that’s me, baby.” He holds up a bouquet. “I think it’s your next courting gift.”

Steve smiles blearily at them. “Never gotten flowers before.” He kicks his way out of his blankets, gets tangled for a second and releases a truly, unfairly cute whine before extricating himself, sitting up and balancing on Eddie while his tired brain lags. “You got me flowers,” he whispers, reverent hand coming up to pet along a petal.

“I did,” Eddie agrees giddily.

Steve nudges the flowers aside, falls into Eddie’s chest, nuzzles into his neck. “Thank you.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the crown of Steve’s head, drags a hand over his hair and down his back. “You’re very welcome, baby. How about I put these in water and make you those pancakes? Blueberry and chocolate chip, right?”

Steve nods into his neck. “Wanna go with you.”

“Absolutely you can come with me,” Eddie agrees. “Are you gonna walk or am I gonna carry you?”

Steve’s hands come up to circle his neck even as he says, “I can walk.”

“I know you can,” Eddie murmurs, sliding his hands around Steve’s waist. “But what if I wanna carry you?”

“M’kay,” Steve agrees, pressing a kiss into Eddie’s neck. “You can. If you want to.”

“So generous,” Eddie snickers, and does, carries him down to the kitchen and puts him on the counter, pulls away with a long, sweet kiss to grab the pancake mix.

They’re back in the trailer. Steve’s got the day off and is tackling their room. Eddie’s clothes are still strewn about the place after that harried call to Wayne had him dumping the boxes and bringing them to Loch Nora. Steve’s things are nearly all put away now, but Eddie’s are still all over the place, so that’s what Steve’s working on.

Eddie’s at work, a half day at the shop, so he’ll be home just after lunch.

Steve loses track of time in their room, meaning he’s neck-deep in the closet and still hasn’t had lunch by the time Eddie walks in. “Baby,” he calls, and Steve narrowly misses hitting his head on the door as he sits back.

“Room!” He calls, even though the trailer walls are thin and he can hear Eddie heading that direction already.

Eddie’s smiling as he walks in. “Hey, baby, what’re you doing in here?” He crouches down for a quick kiss and scent mark, accepting the same back.

Steve sighs. “Just trying to organize a little. Get our room back in order.”

“Baby, this is my shit, I’ll do it. C’mon, have you eaten?”

“Getting you to organize is like pulling your toenails out, Eds, I actually like it. I’ll do it. No, I lost track of time, but I can make something real quick if you’re hungry?”

Eddie grins, shakes his head. “Nah, Flo brought something in for the guys, and I snacked between cars. C’mon, baby, lemme take care of you, what do you want to eat?”

Steve hums. “Mac and cheese? Or… do we have any hamburger helper?”

“We should,” Eddie nods. “If not, we definitely have Spam, I can add some of that to some mac?”

Steve nods. “That sounds great. Thanks, Alpha.”

Eddie nuzzles him. “Any time, omega.” He presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead and heads out to the kitchen, and Steve continues cleaning with the background noises of Eddie making him lunch.

Soon enough the noises slow, and not long after Eddie brings him a bowl.

Steve eats while Eddie putters around, putting away a few things, before stilling at the dresser. “Baby?”

“Hm?”

Eddie turns around, joins him on the bed. “So, obviously for courting gifts, the last one, the biggest one, is usually a piece of clothing.”

“Right.”

“And I’ve already given you my vest.” His lips quirk up. “I’d argue I’ve given you my whole closet,” he says, nodding down at Steve’s outfit, which consists entirely of Eddie’s clothes. Steve shrugs, because he knows Eddie loves it. “So I have something else for you, instead. If you want it.”

“Okay.”

Eddie reaches up, unclasps his necklace, and offers it to Steve. “The pick was my mom’s,” he whispers. “The first one I ever used to learn guitar. After she passed, Wayne kept teaching me. For the longest time, I thought of it as a good luck charm. Like if I wore it, the band would have a good show.”

“Then you should keep it.”

Eddie smiles, shakes his head. “The band’s done. We weren’t going anywhere anyways, and especially after the accusations…” he shrugs. “Besides, I have you now. And you’re better than any good luck charm.”

“Flirt,” Steve mutters, but his cheeks are pink as he touches the necklace. “You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer it if I wasn’t, baby.”

Steve smiles, ducks his head. “Okay.” He brings his hand up to touch the pick as Eddie secures the necklace. When Eddie sits back, Steve pulls him in again for a kiss.

“Just for the record,” he murmurs when they pull back, “if we weren’t mated, I would’ve accepted all of your gifts.”

At that, Eddie grins and pulls him into another kiss.

They can always finish cleaning tomorrow.

#STMMM25 #stranger things March mating madness 2025 #courting rituals #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #starambles

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c-u-c-koo-4-40k · 3 months ago

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Here's a funny kinda nostalgic post for commenting on.

In Husbandry Warhammer what media normally designed more for kids do Space Marines enjoy? (Aka what media are they latching onto because it is healing their traumatized inner child?)

I'm gonna go through some of my totally unbiased opinions. And if you're favorite legion isn't on here...

Comment it with your thoughts!

Thousand Sons - Take your damn pick there's so much magic based media but of course the Owl House is up there for recent examples.

...some of the Loyalist Thousands Sons do get a bit...existential when the plot line of the tyrannical Emperor Belos gets expanded upon.

Ironically despite its fictional nature Thousand Son or other psycher space marines use certain scenes in it almost like training videos for their offspring.

Ultramarines - You can't Tell me these guys wouldn't like Bob the Builder, and Thomas the Tank Engine. The main characters are Blue and so much of trains and building is logistics! And Cyberspace! Logistics is mostly math so Cyberspace is in there too.

Death Gaurd - Zoboomafo, the focus on flora and fauna is quite enjoyable for marines literally in tune with the cycle of life. Children's shows in general often use simpler language which is easier to understand or translate for Marines still coming to grasp with ancient terran languages. The similarly enjoy The Wild Thornberries

Nightlords - Goosebumps. They LOVE Goosebumps and 'Are you afraid of the Dark?' No I will not explain it.

Blood Angels - Art Attack! Never watched the show myself but Damn it looks fun! And perfect for craft inclined Blood Angels.

Alpha Legion - The animated Carmen Sandiego cartoon! Deception, mystery and most importantly disguises! What more could a hydra want? And Blue Clues...because.

Salamanders - Dragon Tails. Love watching it with their family or kids. The show has a big focus on family itself and giant lizards it's practically made for them! Would probably also like Dinosaur Train.

Emerperors Children - Steven Universe. The art, the music, the messy drama of the characters that makes them weep and the existential dread of being similarly tied to a parent or family that is...complicated.

They find a lot of comfort and catharsis in it.

Black Templars - Veggie Tales. Okay JK kinda they would like that just swap out God for God Emperor. Also...Winnie the Pooh.

Is it just because Pooh is Yellow like their gene father? That's not entirely it but they approve of the little yellow bear who isn't the brightest but he does his Best Okay!

I could also see them using it as another weird allegory for the God Emperor loving and protecting because in quite a few episodes of "The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh," Christopher Robin shows up to help Pooh and Friends out of their predicaments.

Iron Warriors - Reboot! My sister loved this show as a kid, and given its focus on computers/a digital world I could see them enjoying it! Also they like Cyber Space because Math. And...Chip and Dale rescue rangers But! They like it specifically for the scenes with Gadget because she makes cool things and they also want to make cool things/find a way to make them work.

See a video on AstartikTok about an Iron Warrior making a remote controlled roller skate and putting the families pet rat on it.

The rat is unharmed and even seems to enjoy the ride.

Dark Angels - Redwall. God that series gave me Nightmares but it Was still technically a kids show....technically. Also Jane and the Dragon, they like the medical aesthetic.

Space Wolves - No I'm not saying paw patrol. Blue Clues and Bluey! But All the legions have Marines who like Bluey! There's hardly a demographic on this planet that doesn't have a legion of Bluey Fans!

Also the old Tarzan Disney animated series because it was actually pretty damn hot shit! And full of cool action scenes fighting giant frightening animals.

White Scars - My Little Pony Friendship is Magic. Yes because horses, and yes because it espouses the values of community and collaboration and it has a kicking soundtrack. And White Scars are one of the few legions who both accept psychers but also acknowledge their inherent danger. They have a big focus on meditation and not becoming lost to the power you wield and finding support in those around you. They appreciate the similar messaging in the show.

War Hounds and World Eaters - Lazy Town. Because all of them want to become as strong as Sportacus and be able to lift a fuckin pyramid with a grappling hook from an airship!

Please stop them, the Pyramids of Giza need to stay where they are. Don't let them cause an international incident.

Ravengaurd - Ruby Gloom. They enjoy the macabre atmosphere merged with the cheerful main character. Plus the music isn't half bad.

Some tags for ya'll if you wanna jump in! And don't hesitate to comment about legions already mentioned if you've got more ideas about shows they'd like.

@egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts @barn-anon

@kit-williams @bispecsual @angronsjewelbeetle @virozero @sleepyfan-blog @passionofthesith

@beckyninja @felinisnoctis

#c u c koo anon #space marine husbandry #space marine husbandry sentience #c u c koo headcanons

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year ago

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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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shieldofiron · 4 months ago

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The Beast of Dunnottar

Also on AO3 | Harringrove | Medieval Omegaverse, Arranged Marriage | 792 words

Why? Why not?

At least the Scots was fair. He had blue eyes and tanned skin, a fine looking tunic dyed a deep red bringing out the gold in his curls.

He'd heard his father talk about how Hargrove was some kind of beast, rumored to have killed his father. Steve was expecting a large and fearsome alpha, covered in blood or something. Hargrove looked to be around Steve's age and size, though Steven was quite large for an omega, even a male.

Steven had stammered through the introductions, tripping over his traditional Omega's skirts. He was more used to wearing braes at home, when his father was often away and the servants let him have the run of the house. But it would be improper to appear in anything other than skirts for his new Lord. Or Laird. Actually, Steven wasn't entirely positive on Hargrove's title.

Hargrove just watched him, those cold blue eyes taking Steven in like he knew what he looked Steven looked like naked. He let his sister speak for him, negotiating with Steven's father and Hopper, the Steward. If Hargrove had any specifics he wanted in the marriage, he must have worked it out with his sister ahead of time.

Steven's father tried to phrase it delicately, bringing up the broken marriage with the Wheelers, and trying to assure Hargrove in the most animated language that Steven was a pure omega, and he needed to have no worries.

But Hargrove's sister just laughed, looking at her brother as if sharing a joke.

"I'll have the Pretty Boy," He growled, speaking for the first time. "Din'ae care if he's pure."

It was all done too soon for Steven to understand. It felt like he blinked and he was in front of the bishop, Hargrove's warm hand taking his and grounding him. It felt like he was floating above the world, unable to come back down.

At the wedding feast he must have talked. He was known to be gay and merry at feasts.

But his bridal joy was tempered with the knowledge that they would leave immediately for the boarder. Steven wasn't sure he was ready to leave Hawkins castle. It was said Hargrove's home was on the sea. Steve had never seen the sea. Perhaps his new husband intended to throw him in it.

At least there was Lady Max, who was currently charming all of Steven's omegas in waiting, especially Sir Lucas de Sinclair. She seemed kind enough. Lady Heather, Hargrove's steward, also seemed kind enough, though not much one for talking.

As the feast wound down in the early morning, Hopper's wife Joyce and daughter Eleanor Jane were pinching Steve's cheeks, making him promise to write, which just made him cry more, as he was awful at writing and he had no idea if Hargrove would let him send them. All Steve's boys were crying, and he had to tear himself away. At least there would be his maid and her son, Sir Henderson with him, so he would not be quite so alone but they would be traveling separately in a few days time, delayed by sickness.

He was surprised to see the Hargrove Clan had brought a carriage for his conveyance, though it was not in the best condition, and mainly stuffed with all of Steven's chests. He was surprised even more when Hargrove followed him in.

In the drafty space, Hargrove's wool dampened alpha scent seemed to fill the space, smelling of the early morning dew and fresh herbs.

"I'll ride along side." Hargrove said haltingly.

"Yes." Steven said, more confused than anything.

"I ought... I... I saw you."

"What?" Steven frowned.

"At the King's Hall. Seasons past. For your presentation. I saw you."

Steven didn't even know what to say to that.

"Prettiest Omega. Struck me silent at the feast, laughing wi' your alpha." Hargrove bowed his head.

Steven's throat felt tight.

"I'm glad tae meet you again," Hargrove reached for Steven's cold hand, kissing the knuckle just above the gold ring set with garnets that he had given as a wedding gift. "Lor' Steven."

Steve let out a breath. "Laird. H-Hargrove."

"William," He smiled, dropping Steven's hand, and Steven wondered if he was called the beast for quite a different reason. His alpha fangs flashed bright white in the dim light from the braziers outside. "Please."

"William."

"Best to get comfortable," Hargrove removed the checked fabric that hung about his neck, handing it over to Steven. "It's a long journey."

Steven wrapped the cloth, still alpha-warm, around himself and tried to settle on the stiffly padded bench. He was still scared but with the warmth laying over his lap and the scent of fresh heather in his nose, he was feeling less alone.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #omegaverse #a/b/o #medieval #billy x steve #steve x billy #shieldofiron #my writing

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aurumacadicus · 3 months ago

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Sigh. You can find more of this under 'mr stark's murder mysteries' because obviously I have no self control.

"Janet Van Dyne should have been hired by the CIA," Steve said, feeling wrung out, like an empty orange rind.

Peggy slanted him an unimpressed frown. "The CIA can't afford her."

Steve wondered if all socialites were equal parts baffling and infuriating. Ms. Van Dyne had been an extra shade of terrifying, though, so he didn't really want to ask more questions. "She was so thorough, Bucky had to rescue me before I finally admitted I was Steve Rogers and not Roger Stevens."

"Good, because I know she's reporting everything back to Tony," Peggy replied, turning back to her computer. "He's used to being the smartest person in the room, and I think it chaps his ass that he can't find out anything about you beyond your bogus file."

Steve sighed, tipping his head back to try and ease the tension in his neck. "I don't understand why we don't tell him."

Peggy frowned at him again. "If word about you gets back to Howard, it will blow our cover at the gala. Once this gala is over and we've hopefully detained the Hydra moles, then we can tell him you're here and alive."

Steve rubbed a hand over his face. "I just feel like you're setting me up to be stabbed."

"You'll heal," Peggy deadpanned, and Steve let out a reluctant bark of laughter.

"He's single," Jan said, sweeping into the Stark library.

"That's not what I wanted you to find out," Tony sighed, looking up from the seating arrangements he'd spread out on the table.

"Well it's what I wanted to find out," she retorted, plopping elegantly down on the couch beside him. "Especially if he's going to be your date."

It was unfair that she could be so elegant while doing anything like 'plopping,' but Tony didn't say so. "If you don't start talking, I'm going to sit you next to Justin Hammer."

Jan turned to give him a shark-smile, lips spread wide and eyes devoid of emotion. "It will be your funeral."

He glanced back at her, allowing a scoff to really nail home he wasn't afraid of her. "I'm busy, so if you're not going to talk, leave."

"God, you really are no fun when you're planning galas," Jan huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against the cushions. She watched him discard a set of seating arrangements to look over another, then rolled her eyes and sat up again. "He's definitely hiding something, but I can't quite put my finger on what," she finally said, tapping her finger against her chin thoughtfully. "It didn't feel malicious though, so."

"Well, he's a spy," Tony answered with a shrug. "So as long as it doesn't feel malicious--actually." He lifted his head, squinting across the room thoughtfully. "I can't say I wouldn't be into that."

"I know," Jan huffed, and he ducked his head apologetically, because the last alpha he'd let 'be mean' to him, she'd had to chase him off with a fireplace poker. "But he mostly just seems like an awkward golden retriever? I don't know. I'm doing some subtle digging."

Tony blinked and turned to face her. "Uh? SHIELD probably already knows."

"They fear me too much to call me on it, so I'm being nice and asking around places that won't ruffle their feathers," Jan explained.

"Oh," Tony said with an understanding nod.

She continued as if she hadn't heard him. "As far as personality, he was willing to listen to his posse's opinions but they definitely deferred to him as the leader. They must be friends outside of work, too, because I almost got Roger to crack and his hipster friend swept in to rescue him like he'd done it before. I'm thinking, divide and conquer."

"I'm going to be too busy to press Roger at the gala," Tony sighed.

"Don't worry. I'll think of something," Jan assured him, reaching out to pat his hand. "I managed to get a third suit done so they could bring anther agent. I think you should seat him next to Justin Hammer. I overheard him talking to the hipster about how he'd gotten frustrated setting up his DVD player and cut all the wires because they got tangled up."

"What's his name?" Tony answered immediately, and gleefully scribbled 'Clint Barton' next to Hammer's.

#mr stark's murder mysteries

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 8 months ago

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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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 3 months ago

Note

We’ve seen the moon boys as vampires What about as werewolves?? 😮‍💨

Most probably they’ll be an alpha since it’s Marc’s body after all

But what about them and and scenting, ruts and finding their mate

Oh god yes

OoOo!!! Yes, they are always the Alpha.

Unfortunately I don't know much about Werewolves but I will bite the curb and try it anyway.

Are you saying Marc is the alpha?😏

Werewolf Marc/Steven/Jake

Them being Werewolves would indeed be an extraordinary experience for you. Even looking at them makes you immediately realize they are in charge.

Their dominance radiates off of them so intense you can almost smell it.

But when they transform into their Werewolf form? Which ever god you may believe in should have mercy on you because they sure as hell won't have that much.

On different occasions and full moons, it's as if like they completely changed, their senses ultra high, able to catch your scent even from miles away, their nose so sensitive it twitches everytime they smell you.

All three of them are very horny in general, so when you would come back home, all bets would be off, they want nothing more than to fold you down and have their way with you.

No doubt they can and will get rough with you at times, but they will make good on their promise and make it up to you. After their fuck session you'd get spoiled by them.

Jake is the one you should be most terrified of when he's in charge.

You don't get a say in how you want him.

You don't get a say in how rough and gentle he should be.

And you certainly don't get a say in how long he should have his way with you.

Jake is done with you when he had his fill. But he gets affectionate after and treat the spots he was particularly rough with.

Steven. Don't ever think he will make it easy on you. He is the sweetest one but that doesn't mean he won't show you whom you belong.

When Steven is in charge, his possessiveness is equal to Marc's.

He may or may not allow you a break from their intense rounds with you.

He may or may not let you choose what he will do to you.

He may or may not have only one round with you.

But in the end Steven will drown you in affection. Apologizes when he has been a bit too rough with you.

Can you blame him though? You are their sweet, lovable and very fuckable mate.

Marc is definitely more lenient than Jake but less gentle than Steven.

You get to choose how you want it. Top, bottom, he's game.

You don't get to choose how many times you want it. He's showing you, not you him.

Manhandles you rougher than Steven but more gentle than Jake.

He takes his time with you, you don't get to choose. Better accept it.

Aftercare is a must have for him, otherwise he'd feel bad. Kisses the spots he was rough with.

Be aware atleast one of them will once in a while come up with wanting to chase you around town for the thrill, getting their adrenaline pumping nicely and ending up with rutting into you after they catched you.

Steven would give you a good 30 seconds head start before storming off to get you.

Marc gives you fair 40 seconds to run. He added those extra 10 seconds for him to get more unhinged...

Jake gives you a whoping 2 minute head start. He wants you to try your best, run, hide whatever you want. It's not like you can escape them anyway.

Seeing you run from them gets them hard as fuck. Good for multiple rounds.

The boys have always been a horny bunch.

---------------------

Tags:

@nekoyin @steven-grants-world @iolaussharpe-24 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @buckyssugarchick

@krakenkitty @mochiitoby @alexxavicry @klillaah

@mooksmouse @rosegnome @silvernight-m

Wanna get tagged?

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #werewolf!steven grant #werewolf!marc spector #werewolf!jake lockley #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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stevetonyweekly · 2 months ago

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SteveTony Weekly - Best of 2024

Welcome to the final rec list of 2024 in which I look back at the best fic’s I read this year--what are YOUR favorite fics of the year?

Hot Rod Red by FrankTheSnek

Steve has been single since the abrupt end of his engagement 5 years ago (despite the efforts of his friends). When he accidentally stumbles across an attractive cam model online, the idea of having a virtual booty call on hand seems appealing. The only problem, Tony is far more charming than Steve would have imagined and there is more to him than a pretty smile and a nice body. Too bad all their interactions are just part of Tony's job… or are they?

Picture This by mistymountainking

“What if—” Steve doesn’t clear his throat this time. He swallows. And oh, Tony watches like it’s happening in slow motion, the tensing of tendons, the roll of Steve’s Adam's apple, the way his suprasternal notch collapses and fills as his esophagus works to, what, keep words down? Saliva? A moan? Steve blinks and the glassiness clears. The blush all but vanishes. “Never mind,” he mutters.

And that…that just won’t do.

Tony leans forward ever so slightly over the foot of the bed, further into Steve’s space by a fraction of an inch. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but Steve does. He stares at Tony from up near the headboard, a plaintive expression deep behind his eyes, a problem that Tony can’t help but want to fix.

“Would you like my help, Steve?”

***

Steve gets caught attempting to take his first-ever dick pics. It's a struggle, he explains, because it brings up a whole host of lingering body image issues. Tony, very gallantly and not at all because he is in love with Steve, offers to take the photos for him.

how light carries on endlessly by meidui

“I'm fine. I always heal up fine.”

“Do you?” Tony asks, two little words flaying Steve open. Steve looks up at him, and against the dusky light, Tony Stark strangely looks nothing like his father.

Between a near-drowning in the Hudson River, a panic attack in the middle of a mission, and a kidnapping, Steve learns to be happy.

business affairs by meidui

It’s two years of wanting him the way he hasn’t wanted Emma since their honeymoon to the pearl of the Pacific, eighteen months of Steve slipping into his hotel suite on business trips away from the prying eyes of New York, and twelve months of staying late after the cleaning staff clock out because Steve will ride him behind his desk with the door unlocked.

Senseless by Scavenge4Dreams

Blinded, deafened, exhausted, injured and afraid, Tony raised himself up into a defensive position, the knife coming up just like Nat had taught him.

“That had better fucking be you, Steve Rogers- it had better be you. Fucking disarm me. If you let me kill you, I swear I will be very, very pissed.” Tony snarled, sure it was Steve approaching. Had to be. Had. To. Be.

What if it wasn’t?

Sunshine on Leith by AvengersNewB, KandiSheek

With the new government law prohibiting the employment of unbonded omegas, Tony has no hope of keeping his job at SHIELD, knowing full well that he has little chance of ever finding a mate. That is until he's officially claimed by a very special alpha: Steven Grant Rogers, also known as Captain America.

In the Springtime of His Voodoo by shaenie

“I’m removing Captain Rogers from this base, but not from active duty. I want him as SHIELD’s liaison to Stark Industries first and foremost. He’ll report directly to me,” Fury says. “As it is, your identity as Captain America is not public knowledge and it will remain that way until I say otherwise. That said, if you think you can get Tony Stark to work with you if you disclose that information, you have permission to do so.”

talk just right by meidui

The most Tony hears Steve talk is when they argue, but hand to god, that's not the reason Tony keeps picking fights with him.

Well, maybe a little.

As Sharp As Any Thorn by RurouniHime

It’s four days to Christmas, there’s a city in shambles, and the nation is in mourning because of the actions of a single man.

Double Exposure by shetlandowl

After a brief stint in the third installment of the Captain America franchise, Tony Stark was brought back to reprise his role as Iron Man in the fourth Captain America movie, Avengers Assemble. Tony had spent most of his twenties becoming a household name as a rising star in Mexican telenovelas, and Avengers Assemble is his breakout role on the big screen – and, more importantly, his introduction to the mainstream US audience.

Even after the movie is completed, Steve and Tony’s friendship remains a source of support that they instinctively rely on for encouragement and guidance. Tony’s fearless approach helps Steve break out of his comfort zone, and Steve’s solid grounding helps Tony focus on what matters.

This promotional tour is a new experience for Tony, but with Steve’s help, his learning curve isn’t so steep. Steve’s learning curve, on the other hand, is life changing.

#stevetony weekly #steve rogers #tony stark #stevetony #stony #captain america #iron man #stevetony fic #stony fic #fic rec

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thezombieprostitute · 6 months ago

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Character Masterlist

Characters w/ multiple stories

Andy Barber

Ari Levinson

Bucky Barnes

Curtis Everett

God the Bounty Hunter

Hal Carter

Jake Jensen

Johnny Storm

Jonathan Pine

Lee Bodecker

Lloyd Hansen

Mace

Nick Fowler

Ransom Drysdale

Steve Rogers

---------------------------------------

Characters w/ only 1 or 2 stories

Charles Blackwood: Tenure (ft. Curtis Everett, Ransom Drysdale)

Chris Beck: In the Woods (ft. James Mace) / Breakfast Surprise

Frank Adler: Worth It

Harald Finehair: At the Gala / My Sun

Jack O'Malley: A-maze-ing / Tricked /Your Fixer

Jefferson/Mad Hatter: Magic / Unwanted in progress series

König: Grocery Store Meeting (ft. Lance Tucker)

Kraven the Hunter: The Hunt

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick: To the Rescue / Frosty Windows

Mordecai (Borderlands): Done This 10

Robert Pronge/Mr. Freezy: My Man's an Undertaker

Sam Wilson: Vacation & Vacation Planning (ft. Jake Jensen)

Steve Kemp: Last Night

Steven Grant: Museum Tours

Syverson: All Your Lovin'

Walter Marshall: Panic Attack / Christmas Grump

---------------------------------------

Multiple Characters

Bouquet Event Masterlist

Charity Auction

Grumpy Days

"I need kisses"

Kidnapped (Gus Williams, Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale)

Receiving Affection (Curtis Everett, Jake Jensen, Mace, Steve Rogers)

Tech Tuesdays

"Tell me I'm pretty"

---------------------------------------

Unnamed Characters

Alpha to the Rescue

At the Gym (SStan character)

Too Old? (CEvans Character)

#andy barber #ari levinson #bucky barnes #curtis everett #god the bounty hunter #hal carter #jake jensen #jonathan pine #lloyd hansen #mace #james mace #sunshine!mace #nick fowler #steve rogers

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sarahowritesostucky · 10 months ago

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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arathejedi394 · 3 months ago

Text

snippet from act two of these days cw dangerous boom-boom-bang device

Steve sleeps fitfully until the acrid smell of fear reaches through the walls and stirs him. Steve lifts his head, blinking. Then he scrambles to put his hearing aids in, shoves on his glasses as he leaps out of bed, throws open his door, and runs into Bucky’s room.

Bucky is twisting violently in the sheets, half the pillows knocked off the bed and the duvet on the floor. “Take the shot,” he’s muttering, “take the shot – take the shot –”

Steve jumps onto the bed and tries to grab Bucky’s hand and shoulder, trying to soothe and still him, but Bucky lashes out and throws him off. Steve hits the edge of the bed, his hands fail to catch himself on the mattress and he loses his balance. He falls onto the ground hard, causing a loud thud and making the room rattle.

Steve winces.

Bucky sits bolt upright, gasping as he wakes, and Steve doesn’t know where the fuck it came from, but he’s got a gun in his trembling hand, aiming at the door. Steve scrambles to his feet.

“Bucky!” he says. “Put it down, you’re safe! There’s no one here but you and me!”

(“And me,” Sarah’s ghost grumbles. “I’ve been there for him longer than you have, Steven Grant.”)

Bucky glances around, sees him, then his arm drops. He swallows visibly and looks at the gun like he didn’t even know he was holding it. Steve gingerly takes it from him, then, his throat tight, he pops the clip. His hands start to shake as he sees that it’s full. Steve shakes his head, but he can’t worry about that yet, he puts both on the nightstand. Steve climbs back onto the bed, grabbing Bucky’s face and making his eyes turn on him. He doesn’t seem to even see Steve, his eyes are wild with ghosts that Steve can’t even begin to comprehend.

“Look at me,” Steve says. “Bucky, look at me.”

The blue-white light from the window casts a sick wash over Bucky’s face, making him look hollow, ill, undead. The bags under his eyes are emphasized and the sweat covering his body shines like powdered glass. He pants for breath. His eyes flick to Steve’s and then he swallows heavily, blinking rapidly.

“Hey,” Steve says quietly. “You’re okay, Alpha. You’re home.”

He’ll think about calling Bucky Alpha like that later. He’ll freak out about the gun later, too. Bucky just pants for breath. Steve shifts onto his knees and pulls him into a tight hug, pressing his face into his neck, against his scent gland; Steve concentrates on keeping his mind and body calm, so his scent produces a sweet and happy sugar smell that will reach Bucky’s frantic mind and sedate him. And he does his best to purr even with how worried he is. He’s been trained to do this. It’s no different than what he does at the VA.

Bucky pants against Steve’s neck, then his arm surges around Steve’s waist and his fingers dig into Steve’s ribs. Steve clings back, despite his training telling him to be more gentle. He knows his scent will have relief in it, too.

(It’s different.)

“It’s February 21st, 2019,” Steve murmurs into Bucky’s sweat soaked hair, escaping from his bun which is lopsided and limp now. “You’re in your own home in Manhattan. War’s over, Alpha. You’re home.”

Bucky’s harsh breathing slows. Steve pulls Bucky’s hair tie out and starts finger-combing his damp hair.

“It’s okay, Alpha,” he says.

Bucky chokes on an inhale. Steve holds onto him tighter just as Bucky’s arm cinches down on his waist and pulls him fully onto his lap. Bucky’s breathing picks up that choking quality again and Steve realizes with a jolt that Bucky is sobbing.

“You’re safe,” Steve tells him again softly.

“He wuh–was s–so small,” Bucky gasps between sobs.

“Who?” Steve asks gently.

Bucky just shakes his head and Steve can feel him tensing his jaw. He kisses Bucky’s hair once, twice, then nuzzles against the top of his head and rubs a hand up and down Bucky’s back, bare from sleeping, while his other hand holds the back of Bucky’s skull to press his face into his neck. Bucky shudders in Steve’s arms.

“You’re home, Alpha,” Steve murmurs. “Everyone’s home, everyone’s safe. Benny’s at home with your ma and pop, she’s fast asleep and dreaming about the soccer game she had this morning. Becca’s at NYU in her dorm with our friend Natasha, fast asleep, too. Betty’s at home with your parents, Georgie and Vinny are with her, your parents are home.”

Steve strokes down Bucky’s back, pressing his cheek against Bucky’s sweat-tinged hair. “They’re all safe and they’re all okay,” he says.

Bucky’s breath stutters as he inhales. He rubs his face into Steve’s neck, getting tears and snot over his skin but Steve doesn’t give a shit. He combs through Bucky’s hair with one hand and rubs his back with the other as Bucky’s sobs become gasping breaths.

“I’m here,” he says gently. “I’ve got you, Alpha. It’s okay.”

Slowly, Bucky’s breathing becomes even again. Steve’s cheek stays smashed against his head and he keeps rubbing Bucky’s back until he stops sobbing. Bucky’s arm starts to go slack around him, but Steve holds on.

Eventually, Bucky lifts his head. Steve holds onto his hair as Bucky sits back and sniffs hard.

“Sorry,” he says hoarsely.

“It’s okay, don’t apologize,” Steve answers. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Bucky drops his arm from Steve’s waist, exhaling heavily, and Steve reaches up to brush Bucky’s hair from his face.

“When did you start getting nightmares again?” he asks gently.

Bucky abruptly laughs. It sounds foreign and unsettling in the tense darkness that reeks like fear.

“Start again implies that they stopped at one point,” he murmurs.

Steve’s mouth slips open. Bucky shakes his head. He reaches up and catches Steve’s wrist, pulling his hand from his hair, and Steve doesn’t fight him.

“You should go back to bed,” Bucky says. He swallows and takes another shaking breath, then pushes Steve back a little. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Bucky,” Steve whispers carefully. He pulls his wrist from Bucky’s grip and cups his face with both hands. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now.”

Bucky shakes his head; he won’t look at him. Steve grabs his chin and makes Bucky look at him.

“You’re safe,” he says softly.

“You should –” Bucky starts, stops and shakes as he exhales. “You shouldn’t hafta deal with this.”

“I’m not dealing with anything,” Steve says quickly. “You never got nightmares when I was sleeping next to you,” he murmurs. “Is – Were you having nightmares every night you slept alone?”

Bucky’s lips part. Steve brushes his hair back again.

“Tell me,” he asks. “Please, Buck, please tell me?”

Bucky’s gaze drops. His mouth moves without sound, moves without words intelligible on them, and he’s still shaking.

“Not –” he says, his voice hushed. Ashamed. “Not every night.”

Steve makes a soft oh sound and pulls him in to rest their foreheads together. Bucky’s hand lifts, trembling, then he touches Steve’s face and his thumb sweeps across his cheek.

“Most nights?” Steve asks quietly.

Bucky nods.

Steve wipes at the cold sweat on Bucky’s brow. “Let me change your sheets,” he whispers. “You go take a quick shower.”

Bucky exhales sharply. He starts to shake his head and Steve catches his cheeks so he can’t.

“C’mon,” he says. “You don’t have to sleep in this smell. Let me take care of it, you take care of you.”

Bucky shuts his mouth, clenches his jaw, he swallows and finally nods. Steve wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him, wants to join Bucky in the shower and tenderly wash his hair the way Bucky had done for Steve so many times, he wants to help and to touch with more significance than kindness.

But he can’t. He can’t do that to himself again. It doesn’t matter that his bondsickness would definitely be abated if he did those things, Bucky doesn’t feel the same way, and if Steve goes down that slippery slope, it’ll just get worse again.

Steve gets up and helps Bucky shuffle off the bed. Bucky hangs lopsided and slanted to the right for a second, his head turns and his stump jerks, then he grabs it with his hand and straightens himself. Shoulders hunched, he leaves the room. Steve starts stripping the bed. There’s a chill in the room Steve’s never really felt before and it unnerves him.

(“Rude,” the ghost of Sarah huffs. “It’s not my fault ghosts are cold.”)

He takes the sweat-soaked sheets all the way out of the room. He opens the window to get the smell of Bucky’s nightmare out. Steve gets clean sheets out of the closet, makes the bed again with a new quilt, puts fresh cases on the pillows after shaking them out. For good measure, he brings in the nesting blankets he’d had on the other bed. They’ll smell more like Bucky from being used in his bed, and he hopes Bucky doesn’t notice that convenient fact for Steve. He turns down the blankets on both sides.

Bucky walks back in, his hair dripping and a towel clutched around his hips. He clenches his jaw as he sees Steve still there, but goes to his dresser and pulls out clean boxers.

Steve stands by the bed, hugging himself, as Bucky tosses away his towel with his back to him and puts on fresh underwear. He should look away, but he doesn’t. Bucky’s physique doesn’t look exquisite in the sickly light from the window. It looks cruel and unrepentant.

“Bucky?” Steve says. “Why – Why do you have a gun?”

Bucky clenches his jaw, then looks away. “I didn’t get it ‘cause you blocked my number, I already had it.”

“It’s loaded,” Steve adds. “You – you keep a loaded gun by your bed? Why?”

“Neighborhood’s rough,” Bucky answers, turning around.

(“He’s lying,” Sarah’s ghost says softly as she tries to stroke Steve’s brittle hair.)

“You’re lying,” Steve says quietly.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #captain america #marvel #winter soldier #mcu #pre serum steve #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #snippet

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