#DARK STEVE AU AND READER | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hellfire--cult · 7 months

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Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington {Dark}

Read the first part here.

wc: 19.2 k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Slightly dark fic due to wickedness of characters, primal play, mentions of bones breaking, teeth falling, tendons splitting, dark woods, blood, murdering insinuation, thoughts about killing, explicit sexual scenes, many forms of Paraphilia described inside the story in which none of them are dark or disgusting, owning kink, breeding kink, obsession, pegging, threesome, reader is a sadomasochist, Mafia!Eddie Munson

Plot: Once a year, the Haunting Ground event takes place, where the prize is a White Rabbit. This year, after so much planning, the Black Bunny from the Black Dragon mob makes an appearance to take her precious White Rabbit home.

Author's note: You asked for it, you got it. This is the first threesome I ever wrote in my life so please be kind, if you do not like threesomes do not read, and no, reader isn't the masochistic one here.

A huge thank you to the love of my life, @ghost-proofbaby for beta reading this, and taking time of her day for it, and correcting so many things in it. I wasn't confident enough this time to simply post this, so she helped me alot, I LOVE U BBY.

SEE STEVE'S OUTFIT HERE IN THIS AMAZING COMMISION @pach-inks DID FOR ME

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

Run, Rabbit, Run

The rules are simple:

1- You must keep running, only hide when threatened.

2- You can hurt your opponent, make them unable to keep moving, but you cannot kill them.

3- No water and no food will be provided.

4- No weapons except makeshift ones you may create with natural materials you find.

5- The chase ends once everyone has tapped out of it or one person was chosen.

6- Medical care will take out injured opponents, as well as waiting outside every exit in the woods.

—--------------------------------------------

The ballroom looks exactly like that last time she saw it, but the perspective now is very different.

She always was at the top of the stairs, looking down at every single person that was willing to participate, to chase after her, to grab her, make her theirs. Pathetic. If only they knew her. If only they wanted her like he does. If only they cared for her like he does. If only they were half of the person he was.

Eddie.

She giggles at the thought, heads turning to look at her quizzically, only to then gasp as they take a good look, because the tattoo that now lingers on her right arm was enough for them to know who she was. It was enough for everyone in the room to start whispering, to start feeling a chill going down their spine at the mere thought of being in the woods with her. It was enough to make many start to doubt their participation in this year’s Haunting Ground.

She looked all over, seeing a deer’s head, a plain white face on some, black lace masks, a dog’s leather mask… She snickered when she saw Carver looking at her, his nose completely out of place, not having healed properly. He has balls to be back, she’ll give him that, but she will knock his teeth out today if he dares come between her and this year’s White Rabbit.

She hummed as she walked to the center of the ballroom, a black dress falling on her body, tight in the upper part while it flowed loosely on the bottom, the length of it only going mid thigh, not reaching her knees. Some black sport shorts cover her underneath, but her feet were completely bare. But the one thing that she was showing off, moving her head side to side, catching everyone’s eyes, gulps being heard all around, was the mask on her face.

A black bunny.

The mask showed her lips, starting from the cheeks and going up to cover the rest of her face. Long black ears went upwards, and she couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips as she rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet, extending her arms towards her back, and holding her hands together for her tattoo to be seen. A Black Dragon. The distinctive mark that shows she belonged to the Boss of the Black Dragon mob.

And now, everything made sense, everything clicked in everyone’s minds right now. She was going to win, no matter what happens tonight, nobody has the slightest chance. Nobody knew if they should quit immediately, give her the prize on a silver platter, but of course, there were many, mostly men, that wanted revenge. Revenge for wasting their time for three years. Revenge from being hurt and pained for trying to get her. Revenge because they don’t want him to win again. But she was there for a reason.

Because if she was playing, Munson’s Black Bunny, it means that they both wanted the prize.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she looked at the top of the stairs. She was waiting. She was already watering at the mouth at the thought of seeing that precious boy. That amazing pretty boy that was covered in freckles, in spots that she wants her tongue to trace. She wants that beautiful face to be covered in sweat, his neck and body full of bruises from the kisses that she wants to give him, mark him, and of course, share him. Oh, how she wants him to be wrecked by him as well.

She trembles with the thought as her body flushes in anticipation, in the adrenaline, not noticing she was smiling almost maniacally towards the top of the stairs, making everyone eye her up and down once more. She can hardly wait to run her hands through those brown locks, grab onto his scalp, move his head around in any way she pleases… And boy did he sound eager about it as well. She knew about this man, she has known him for a couple of years now, and always found him so pretty, so cute, so angelic looking.

Oh how blind everyone was.

She knew who he really was. She knew he was like her, she knew he was as filthy and evil as her, and she knew Eddie would love him. Eddie will be so happy with him as well. Time can’t pass fast enough, because she has been hypnotized by those honey eyes ever since she met him to know he was the next man to be presented to her as a possible fiancé. The man just looked disgusted as his father talked with hers, but the only thing she could look at was the expanse of his neck, the freckles going down and down into the open collar of his shirt.

And he was looking at her as well. There was a quick connection, a quick understanding, as a small grin spread on their lips and they were told to go and get to know each other in a private room. And oh man, was he cute. He responded so well when she whispered to him, and he would flinch at the slight touch of her fingertips, a blush on his cheeks appearing as she told him that she had no intention of marrying him, but that she would love to own him. That had sent a shiver down his spine, and when he bit his lip, she knew he was the next one to get.

Even after she was caught herself, she could only imagine the moments she could spend with him, while Eddie might not be available to do so, and the moments where she could share this sun kissed man with her Demon. She really needed time to go faster because she waited for a whole year for this chase. Cryptic messages were sent to him, to prepare for this trial, and he knew perfectly well what it was, and now knowing that she was going to be a Chaser was the only thing that impulsed him to sign up as the White Rabbit.

Speaking of which,

“Welcome to this year’s Haunting Ground!” Unlike last year, there were fewer cheers this time, and she looked all over to see that many people had left the ballroom, a smile creeping on her lips because of how much fear she provokes in people. That was almost making her feel… excited.

“Black Bunny, huh.” A woman talks next to her, and she turns around to see her wearing a simple lace eye mask, giving away who she was immediately. The daughter of Tom Holloway, and while he might look like the simple CEO for the New York’s Post, he was also working with the government and some mobs to not let out some news into the light, and covering them with something else that is not as grave, or critical.

“Holloway.” Heather gives a snicker as she turns to look at her.

“How’s life now that you are someone’s pet?” That made the Black Bunny laugh, giggle, shake her head as if Heather just told the funniest joke in her life, but the other woman was simply looking at her as if she were going insane. Seconds later, her laughter slowly came down, and she leaned her face into Heather’s space.

“I’m far from that Holloway. But since you’re asking, it’s been very… fulfilling.” Heather sends the Black Bunny a disgusted look on her face as she takes a step away but it only elicits a giggle on the Bunny’s part.

“Why are you participating? You got what you wanted, so why not leave this opportunity for someone else?” Heather says and that made something in the Black Bunny snap. How fucking dare she? Why does she fucking think she has a chance? Why does she think that her precious White Rabbit would want her? Or anyone else for that matter? And that’s when the Black Bunny decided something. Something that made her face twist in a way that the baby hairs on Heather’s nape stood on edge at, and she felt her blood going cold as the Black Bunny kept staring at her.

The Black Bunny was not going to let Heather Holloway walk away unscathed.

Heather Holloway was not even going to be able to walk.

“The rules being said, always remember the small device to call for assistance if injured or if you are trapped or simply want to tap out of the chase.” The Black Bunny’s attention immediately went back towards the stage, her eyes sparkling as she waited, taking a deep breath in as a single spotlight shone at the top of the stairs. “Here is this year’s White Rabbit.”

And a shiver went down her spine as many gasps could be heard through the room. The beauty emanating from this man was inexplicable. She didn’t know what to expect, but she could already feel her wetness sipping through her underwear just at the sight of his body, of his hair that spilled from the mask, from the white rabbit mask that filled just half of his face, and his white ears going upwards.

But oh, what he was wearing. The man was standing, bare feet, with some Arabic Harem see through pants, all flowy in white tulle, hugging his ankles tightly as well as his hips, and the pants had an open slit on the sides of his them, showing off his skin and also, you could see the outline of his underwear, a thong?

No, a jockstrap. But that wasn’t what caught most people's attention. It was the white tight corset with silver embroidery and pearls that hugged his waist, showing his curves, and it stopped just underneath his pecs, showing his clean shaved chest to the crowd. Coming from the sides, at the top edges of the corset, were two silver straps, going over his shoulders, tightly, and the same see through fabric went all the way down his arms flowing, until they reached the tightness of silver elastic bands onto his wrists.

The man was absolutely beautiful. And he was all hers.

“Oh, what a beauty…” A man on her other side said, his silver horse mask shining with the lights, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel angry at the man, because he wasn’t saying it in a lustful way, he was truly saying how beautiful he was. He was mesmerizing to the eye, and she knew everyone was no longer second guessing if they should indeed participate in the trial. At first many were doubtful because it was her, and there is a big chance that whoever gets in her way will get hurt… But now, seeing this man at the top of the stairs like this, doubt is very present in the room.

Her eyes scanned him, scanned his face, his lips, his eyes that could be seen through the mask’s eye holes.

Everything about him was just so perfect.

He was such a treasure, so shiny in her eyes that she can hardly believe that at the end of the night she will be able to smear the lip gloss that’s on his lips, make him drool all over himself, make his spent spread on the sheets, maybe her mouth if she wants a taste.

The freckles were giving him away, people whispering about why he was participating in such a trial, and even more so, be the prize of it. But the answer to all of that should be pretty easy, it should be of common sense knowing the Black Bunny was in the room as one of the hunters. Two and two were adding up in everyone’s minds, and a small smile was painted on her face all the while as she looked up at her ray of sunshine, dressed all in white.

“Remember, injuring a contestant to the point of death is immediate disqualification and authorities will be called in the spot.” For some reason, the host was looking at her, pointedly, and she could only grin at him, giving a shake of her head. The man looked at the White Rabbit once again before saying, “Run, Rabbit, Run.”

The lights went off for a few seconds and when they were on again, the White Rabbit was gone. Everyone clapped except for her, eager to start the hunt, and some eager to walk out of it before they were severely injured. The host started guiding everyone out towards the edges of the woods and the Black Bunny was whistling as she walked outside, looking at the all too familiar woods ahead of her. She smiled as she saw the familiar rock to the side, the oak tree that was crooked slightly to the left.

She knew these woods like the back of her hand.

She stood next to Heather Holloway, and on her other side was the man that called her White Rabbit a beauty. Unlike Eddie, she wasn’t going to just stand there and take them out. She was going to go for another tactic, one that will make everyone afraid of going in, and she knew it was going to work because people were already looking at her, peeking over the line to watch her every move.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the balcony, seeing the host walking out of it and looking at all the contestants. He gave her one last look, a glance, a warning. What a pain in the ass. She wasn’t going to kill anyone, and if she did, it was surely going to be after this hunt. His arm raised up, gun in hand, and her eyes settled once again towards the woods, a smile appearing on her lips as the adrenaline pumped in her veins. He was so close, so close, and he was hers.

BANG.

A shriek of laughter came out of her lips as she started skipping into the woods and everyone else stood still in horror. She was way too carefree in this. Too confident in herself. Chills ran down everyone’s spine, afraid of going into the woods now because she could be anywhere. She could be behind a tree, on a tree, behind a rock, under it, just plainly anywhere. A few people took a step back from the edge, and slowly started retreating back into the ballroom.

Heather Holloway was not one of those people, amongst others that believed the Black Bunny to be too cocky. Just because she was in the Black Dragon mob, and she was Eddie Munson’s favorite didn’t mean anything. They could still outrun her. Unlike the other times, in which the rules protected her from their attacks, they could hurt her now. But there was also another thing that made people stay in their place. Even if she were cocky, and even if they dared to hurt her, what awaits after doing that was much worse.

They could be subject of Eddie Munson’s torture.

It would be wise to back out. It would be even wiser to just give the White Rabbit to her, but only five people dared to get into the woods, out of the thirty one that were there. These five people that ventured inside were sick and done with the Black Dragon mob. Be it because their businesses failed because of them, or someone was killed by them. If they have to hurt the Black Bunny to get to him, to get him back at all, then so be it.

A man in an owl mask went right, rushing towards the woods as he jumped over boulders, fallen trunks, and his breathing was already heavy. He was scared, really scared, but he recognized who the White Rabbit was. The Emporium this man belonged to was a force to be reckoned with, the wealth the family possesses is immense, and the fact that he can blackmail them with their son was something that he was craving. The millions that could await him from running just a tiny bit, and getting his hands on him.

And poor man, he really was delusional. His face got immediately smashed as two feet collided into it, breaking his nose and front teeth, falling backwards from the impact, dizziness invading his brain as he coughed his teeth out onto the ground, along with his spit. He looked up and the last thing he saw was The Black Bunny, giggling at him as she dangled from a branch. She had waited for him, sitting on that branch, to run by and swing down to strike him at full force.

She really didn’t intend for him to pass out, only break his teeth maybe, but she might have overdone it. She dropped from the branch with an ‘oof’ sound and she hummed, walking towards the unconscious man and getting the alarm out of his pocket. At least she was nice enough to press the button for assistance. Her head raised up when she heard grunting, somewhere in the woods, but the only female that was in the hunt with her as well, was silent. She knew the other men were going to take eachother out, and having Heather Holloway to herself made her grin wickedly.

She dropped the alarm on top of the man. Maybe she will send him a sorry note later on. Maybe. She turned on her heels and started running again, measuring her breath evenly, and that’s when she saw two men sprawled on the floor as one stood victorious with a branch in his hand. He was breathing heavily and as he turned around, she was in full view of him. It was the man that called her White Rabbit a beauty, but she made no move to go at him.

“I was just after these two.” He says to her and she looks down to see their faces. They were almost smashed in, and gurgles of blood could be heard from their mouths. She looked up at him again.

“They will call the authorities on you. Don’t kill them.” The Black Bunny says softly to the man that was wearing a horse mask. He gave her a small chuckle and shook his head. She knew he wasn’t going to comply with that request. This man’s daughter was kidnapped and killed in front of him by the sons of the White Elephant mob, just out of spite because he had rejected loaning them money from his own company.

“Holloway went left.” She gave him a final nod, and looked down at the men that were reaching for the assistance button. She walked towards them and snatched each of those devices, the men writhing in despair as they tried to ask for mercy. The Black Bunny threw them across the field and turned to leave the man to do his last business.

She immediately went left, running back into the woods and then heading north. If she goes diagonally, she will encounter her. The Black Bunny stopped running suddenly as she spotted a small rock on the side, and it was sharp. Very sharp. A smile creeped on her face as she got hold of it in her hand and looked all over it. It wasn’t that big, but it was long, almost like a dagger.

Heather Holloway was tired of running. There were no signs of the White Rabbit nor the Black Bunny. She was starting to become frustrated, because at least she wanted to try and give some piece of her mind to the cocky Munson slut. She stopped running and started walking now, trying to catch her breath as she kept her senses in complete alert. She wasn’t going to give up, no matter how silent everything was. She needed to keep moving, but her sense of direction was completely lost, and that made her nervous.

She heard a twig snap, making her turn around, only to find nothing out of the ordinary. Her heart was beating into her chest as she kept walking, fear setting in slowly because everything was just quiet, way too quiet. So she stopped, and tried to sharpen her sense of hearing, trying to listen to the sound of the trees, to the twigs on the floor if they snapped even if a little bit. But there was nothing,absolutely nothing… Until she heard a rustle from underneath a bush that was right next to her.

“I found you~”

The scream that Heather got out of her throat was out of a horror movie. Blood painted the soil red as she fell backwards, pain shooting up her legs as tears started welling up in her eyes. The Black Bunny got out from the bushes with the sharp stone in hand, tainted with the other woman’s blood, a grin on her face from ear to ear. She had cut both of her achilles tendons, just slicing over them completely.

“WHAT THE FUCK–” Heather yelled as she tried to move her feet but she couldn’t even think anymore, the pain being too unbearable, and her writhing on the floor made the Black Bunny roll her eyes at her as she crouched down to look at her face stained from tears and dirt.

“You’re a drama queen.”

“You’re a crazy fucking bitch!” Heather’s breath was cut off as the sharp end of the rock came in contact with her cheek, and when she looked up, fear trickled all over her body, a cold sweat engulfing her as she saw the most evil eyes, wicked, as they looked at her with widely, threateningly, simply horrifyingly.

“This is what you get for participating, and having the nerve to think that you deserve him.” Heather could only muster a whimpering sound as her tears ran down her face, knowing the damage the Black Bunny had caused, knowing the consequences of her future, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Not anymore. She was breathing heavily as the pain was blurring her vision, consciousness slowly slipping away and The Black Bunny took pity on her, but it was only because she didn't want to be disqualified. She bent down to go into Heather’s pants front pocket, taking the alarm out and pressing on it.

She looked at Heather as she finally slipped off into unconsciousness. Eddie was going to be so mad at her for this, causing more damage than she should have, but can he blame her? He was very honest with her when he had done the chase himself and how he wanted to kill anyone in his path for her. She scoffed as she looked down at Heather’s feet, knowing they wouldn't be of use any longer, a smirk coming to her face as she ventured into the woods once again, just walking, knowing she was the only one in the game now.

“Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run, don’t give the farmer his fun, fun, fun~” She hummed as she walked by many trees, the corner of her eye seeing the small ‘x’ signs marked on the bark of them, making her smile as she kept a soft tune coming out of her lips. She could basically taste him already, every passing tree letting her know she was slowly reaching him, slowly getting to him.

Once she finally passed the final tree marked with an X, she found a clearing. And there, in the middle of it, the moonlight shone down on his body, his face, his mask as the White Rabbit stood with a smile on his lips. There were no stains, no dirt, no blood on his body, so it meant he didn’t have to run that much because no one actually got near to him. She salivated at how gorgeous he looked under the night’s light, and all she wanted was to mess him up, to ruin him.

“It didn’t take that long.” The White Rabbit says with a soft tone, but she noticed a certain want behind it, a certain desperation, impatient. She chuckled as she took a step forward towards him, her dress moving around as she walked and his gaze followed her silhouette, brown eyes shining at her form.

“Nobody dares to go against me. You should know this.” He gave her a low ‘hm’ in agreement and she was slowly closing the distance, the tension palpable in the air as she took each step. She waited for this for a whole year, planning it with Eddie, making everything go into plan without anyone noticing, without anyone suspecting it. The White Rabbit has the same longing in his face, ready to meet his destiny, his future. And it was a decision that he had made, not one done by his father.

“I do know this, that’s why I trusted you so much with it.” He says in a loving tone, dreamily as the Black Bunny reaches him, just inches away from his body as her body flushed, heat going all over her body at his words. He was so perfect, such a romantic for someone like himself.

“Are you going to run from me?” She asks, biting her bottom lip. He gives her a grin with a shake of his head.

“Never from you.” His hands reached up towards his mask, and she held her breath in, containing a gasp at the anticipation of seeing him without it. She was shivering almost, trembling with need, wanting the seconds to go by quicker, but it didn’t matter because the only thing they now had was plenty of time. His fingers touched the bottom of his mask and he finally tugged it upwards, taking it off and throwing it to the side. She sighed at the beauty in front of her. A literal diamond, and he was all hers.

“Steve Harrington… You’re so beautiful.” She saw his face flush, cheeks tinted red as her hand reached up to cup one of them, her thumb rubbing a particular freckle there. Steve raised one of his hands up, pressing it onto the hand that was on his cheek, leaning into the warmth of it. He sighed of relief at her touch, finally having what he had wanted for so long. Ever since he met her almost two years ago, he knew he wanted her to own him, in whichever way possible. So when he heard her bachelors have been going missing, or killed, he wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t scared, but he was excited to be considered one of them.

Sadness enveloped him when he found out that she had participated in the Haunting Ground behind her father’s back, and was caught by none other than Eddie Munson, the Mafia Boss of the Black Dragon mob. There was no chance for Steve, no way to ever have her the way he wanted to, no way for her to own him the way he wanted to. But he didn’t have to wait for long, because when he received a letter from ‘His father’, he knew it wasn’t actually from him. He knew it was from someone else, and when he saw the plan on paper with a Black Dragon signature at the bottom, he knew.

“Can I see you?” He asks and she gives him a sweet smile unlike what she truly is But he deserved it. He deserved that sight of her. Even if she wanted to ruin him, make a mess out of his mind and soul, she also wanted to care for him like she would a puppy. She let go of his cheek, making his hand drop to his side as she reached towards her mask, pulling it off her face and throwing it away just like he did with his.

You.

“Happy now Stevie?” You smirked up at him and he could only look down at you in pure adoration, in bliss, as if you weren’t really there, as if you were just a figment of his imagination. A small giggle escaped your lips as you looked at him, his brown honey eyes scanning all over you, and your eyes did the same on his body, a hand reaching up to rub against the top of the corset. “This looks so good on you…”

His breathing hitched at that, and you could only grin up at him because like Eddie did with you, and like you did to him, you had studied Steve. You knew what he liked, you knew what he went crazy over, and he was very obvious in those letters that were exchanged of what he desired. You saw his whole body turning red as the jockstrap under his pants became tighter, and you could only salivate at seeing the bulge that was growing bigger each second that passed.

Transvestism:

Sexual arousal from cross-dressing of the opposite gender.

“Yeah?” Steve’s face was flushed and you noticed the lipgloss on his lips even more now, a very faint hint of red as you could see some eyeliner, very thin, behind his eyelashes that had some mascara on them. It made his eyes pop out even more. Your hand slid up towards his shoulder, pulling him closer to you and your other hand came to rest on his cheek again, making him smile at you. You were just drooling at this point, wetness pooling between your legs.

“Yeah… Did you follow instructions?” You asked him as his hands came to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him and you wanted to moan at the feel of his hardness against your lower belly.

“Feel for yourself.” Steve says in a low tone. Even if he has these feminine attributes, he is still a man, and he is letting you know by his voice, making the heat even more unbearable than before. Your hand left his cheek to glide down his chest, one of your fingertips grazing over a specific freckle that was driving you mad. But your hand kept going its way, touching his waist to then go to his back and lower - that’s when you felt it. Something fluffy, something that you couldn’t help but squish and press forward, a moan escaping his lips instantly and you trembled at the sound.

“Such a good boy…” You say this time as you grip the bunny tail even harder and you start doing small circles with it, pressing it into his body, making his hands grip tighter on your hips as groans are stuck in his throat. He had followed your instructions carefully before the trial. Cleaned himself thoroughly and then started preparing the stretch. He had to rip a hole in his pants to do so because the jockstrap already gave him the opening he needed to follow your orders.

He was wearing a buttplug, and you were already making him see stars with it.

“Do you think Eddie will like me too?” He asks and your eyes sparkle with delight as you let go of his tail buttplug to fully wrap your arms around his shoulders, looking up at him, heart beating loudly into your chest from the excitement.

“Oh, he already loves you baby… As much as I do.” He couldn’t help but smile in delight at your words, melting into your arms as his own wrap around your waist, hands splayed on your back. “You have to say the words Stevie… For how long do you want this?”

His eyes looked for yours, and even in the heat of the moment, even in the situation you were both in and how you got here, the resolution for you two was the same. There is no way you would go back to your past lives. You would be owned, but not caged. It was a very different type of situation than what you both have been through your entire lives, and just like you did, he couldn’t wait to be set free from it all.

“For as long as it lasts.” You let a sigh of relief escape your lips as your face inched closer to his. Steve couldn’t wait for his lipgloss to be smudged by you, so he leaned towards you as well, lips already parting for you. You couldn’t help but take in his scent. Sweet, hints of mint and caramel, and it was just so him. Just like you imagined he would smell like, not at all the person you met two years ago who was wearing a tight black suit with a bitter cologne on.

Your lips slot against his and you two let out a moan at the same time, swallowing it and cherishing them in the depths of your minds. One of your hands finds its way on the back of his neck, running up into his scalp, into those brown locks that he so carefully takes care of. You can taste the strawberry gloss on your tongue as your lips move against his in a soft dance, unlike what you plan to do to him.

And just like Eddie did to you that time, you bite onto Steve’s bottom lip, sharp, and he lets out another moan into your mouth as you feel that copper taste fill your tongue. You pull away from him to look at your work of art as the gloss he was wearing is replaced by your spit mixed with the small bit of blood that came out of his lip. He was almost panting over you and you couldn’t wait to knock the breath right out of his lungs.

A firework was shot in the sky to signal the end of the Haunting Ground. You couldn’t help but smile and run your tongue on Steve’s bottom lip to clean some of the blood off. He was finally yours. The wait was over.

“Ready to go home pretty boy?”

Steve’s heart was in his throat as he stood inside the elevator that was going upwards towards his new home. His things were already delivered as he made sure all of his belongings were sent as well as gave his signature on the contract that established that you took full responsibility for him now. He gave his loyalty, soul, mind and body towards the Black Dragon mob.

He had reapplied the lip gloss that you had smudged previously, and he was still wearing the same attire as he did in the hunt. He was hoping Eddie would like it too, because it wasn’t just you Steve was craving. After he found out you were taken by Eddie Munson, his mind wandered to the fantasy of how you two would act intimately. Was he in control? Were you in control? Did you change it up? For some reason, Steve feels like he was the last piece of the puzzle.

The elevator finally dinged and its doors opened, revealing double dark ones right in front of him. He walked towards them, grabbing onto one of the handles and pulling it down to finally open the door, taking in the environment all around him. It was modern, yet for some reason it felt like a home. It didn’t feel bland at all. He walked in and then closed the door behind him, the dimmed warm lights filled the living room as he took some steps into his new house, into his new life.

“Stevie, baby…” You call him out as you walk down the stairs, having changed into something that knocked Steve’s air right out of his lungs. You had changed into a black latex tube dress that ended at, almost, your inner thighs, barely covering your ass at all. It had cups on the chest, making your breasts more prominent than before, and he was drooling at the sight as the echoing of your heels made him tremble at each step. You finally reached the bottom of the stairs and he now noticed the heavy black makeup on your eyes, the red gloss that was on your lips - he was guessing that everything was planned.

“You look so beautiful.” Steve says to you, making your face flush completely at his words, wetness pooling in your inner thighs and you could already feel it sticking onto your dress as well, because of course, you had to have easy access, so no underwear was always a must in this house. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pushing your body against his as his hands came to run all over your hips, pulling you closer for his bulge to once again press against you.

“You’re one to talk Steve, god, you’re so pretty…” You leaned up as you pulled his head down towards your face. He thought you were going to kiss him, but instead your mouth moved to the side, going towards his ear. A low breath escaped your lips as you softly whispered to him, a shiver going from the back of his neck, towards the tip of his toes as his heart beat loudly at your words. “And you’re mine.”

Steve was at a loss of words as his cheeks turned into a bright shade of red, feeling heat invade all of his body inside and out. You giggled at his reaction as his bulge twitched against your body. You pulled away from his ear, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders. He really wanted to kiss you now, but he will always obey your orders. Unless you told him he had free will on his advances, he will let you make all the first moves, but he can express his feelings.

“I want to kiss you…” You hummed at his words, a happy sigh escaping your lips as one of your hands came back to the front to press against his cheek. The fingertip of your thumb caressed, very gently, against his glossy bottom lip, trying to not smudge it away.

“I would love to… But I want him to see you in this too…” And that’s when Steve felt himself freeze. He felt him. He felt his presence as if he were a ghost, an entity, but it was just the power that radiated from his body. He slowly looked up over your shoulder to look towards the open door that led to the dark kitchen. His breathing stopped completely as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of it and there, leaning against the door frame was your owner.

Eddie Munson took a step into the dim light with a small smirk on his lips.

Steve’s heart stopped at the sight before him. Eddie was shirtless, his tattoos showing off all over his torso and arms and he wondered if the back was as inked as the front. His hair was tight into a low ponytail as he took another step towards the two of you. He had black pants on with a leather belt around the hip to keep them in place, bare feet hitting onto the floor below him. You turned around to face him with a smile to your face, your arms not leaving Steve’s shoulders.

“Bunny.” Eddie called out to you and you were almost bouncing in your place as you kept your eyes on him but Eddie’s eyes were still locked with Steve's, who was still frozen in place.

“Look how pretty he got for us Eddie…” You hummed out and Eddie finally stood next to the both of you, and he almost lost control as your eyes and Steve’s looked at him, wide with stars of expectation behind them. Eddie gave you just one look and your arms left Steve’s shoulders. He almost whined at the loss as he gave you one look, his head turning from Eddie only for it to be turned back as a big ringed hand held onto his chin that made Steve’s legs almost tremble as honey eyes clashed into deep brown ones again.

“You were right Bunny… He is very pretty.” Eddie took a step closer to Steve whose face was red from want already. His eyes hazing over with desire, and Eddie could see it. He could see how Steve’s eyelids were becoming heavier as he looked at him. His thumb caressed right below Steve’s bottom lip that made his breathing hitch, a small gasp being heard from him, making Eddie smile victoriously. “I like this on you.”

Steve felt almost overwhelmed already because you two were just invading his space completely. He felt like his breathing was cutting short, feeling as if the walls in the house were getting smaller on him but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling at all. First, he got to taste you. Now, he wants to have a taste of the man that is in front of him. He finally understood perfectly why you had decided to stay with him.

“And he followed our orders.” You mention as you walk behind Steve, pressing your lower belly against the bunny tail, pushing it forward and making Steve’s cheeks heat up as a moan escapes his lips. It makes him take a step forward towards Eddie, his chest colliding with his. Eddie’s hands catch Steve’s biceps to hold him up as he smirks over his shoulder and towards you who was already grinning at him.

“I think he deserves a reward.” He looked down at the hazy honey eyes again, immediately leaning down with no warning and pressing his lips against Steve’s, getting a surprised gasp from the man followed by a moan as you pressed onto the bunny tail again. Eddie smirked as his eyes stayed half lidded, open just enough to see Steve’s reactions, making the hardness in his pants twitch against Steve’s. He took the opportunity of his moan where he opened his mouth slightly to press his tongue into his mouth, as his hands pressed against his waist, pulling him closer.

Steve felt like he was on fire, and you two were already defiling him, front and back. You were moving the buttplug, rutting into him in small circles, but it was enough for his spongy spot to be rubbed just slightly. He was moaning onto Eddie’s tongue as it almost went to the back of his throat, and how godly Eddie tasted. It was a mixture of cigarettes and whiskey, maybe a hint of an afternoon coffee he must have drank waiting for your hunt to be over.

You trailed your lips towards the freckles that were splayed on Steve’s back, your eyes like stars as you slowly started kissing each one as if they were constellations, making Steve shiver as his hands snaked up towards Eddie’s shoulders, finally letting himself go and be guided by his own desire. He wrapped his arms around him, making Eddie chuckle into his mouth at the gesture. Steve definitely was more romantic than you were, and now he understands what you meant when you said you wanted to ruin him.

Because now he wants to do the same.

“I’m feeling a little left out…” At your voice the two men pulled away, a string of saliva left behind as Eddie looked over Steve’s shoulder to see you pouting. He knew he was going to see a new side of you tonight, a side that you couldn’t be with him because he wouldn’t allow it and you didn’t complain, but you were very much excited about owning Harrington. You couldn’t help but get giddy at the prospect of all the stuff you wanted to try on him, and Eddie was more than happy to help you choose the best things.

“Oh, we can’t have that. Kiss her Harrington.” Steve immediately takes his arms off Eddie’s shoulders, face completely reddened by the intrusive kiss as he turns around to look at you again. You beam at him as if he were holding the stars for you right now, his hands coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him, your hands landing on his shoulders as he leans down and immediately presses his lips against yours.

You were smirking against the kiss as you felt Eddie’s hands come in between the both of you and Steve’s breath hitched into your mouth as he felt calloused hands, ringed fingers rubbing onto his chest. Your hands went now to cradle Steve’s face, pulling him deeper into you, forcing your tongue into his mouth as he let a moan escape his lips. Eddie smirked behind him, and his fingers rubbed onto one of Steve’s nipples, hardening the bud there as he could feel Steve pressing his ass against his bulge, the buttplug pressing deeper into him.

“He’s such a slut.” You say. You had pulled away from the kiss the moment you felt an even deeper moan coming from Steve and you wanted to see what Eddie was doing to him.

“I agree.” Eddie suddenly pinches Steve’s hard nipples, and the brown haired boy’s eyes widened with a gasp at the sensation, his whole body on fire as he throws his head back onto Eddie’s shoulder.

“God–” Steve moans out as another roll of Eddie’s fingers press onto one of his nipples. His jaw was suddenly grabbed roughly, making him look at you. His face flushed a deep red as you were almost glaring at him.

“There’s no god here. Only us.” At your display of dominance, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his dick twitch in his pants, pressing himself harder against Steve. He wasn’t into it if it was done to him, but seeing you doing it to someone else… He finds it too erotic. Steve moans your name, making you smile lovingly at him again.

“And what about me?” Eddie asks Steve as he pinches onto his nipple even harder this time, making Steve hiss.

“Eddie!” It came out as a whine, and you felt Steve’s bulge pressing onto your lower belly. You could feel your wetness falling down your inner thighs as you kept looking at him. Your eyes darted back towards Eddie who had a smirk on his face as Steve was turning into a puddle in between you both.

“Bunny, let’s stop playing.” You giggled in delight as you ripped yourself away from Steve, making the boy whine at the loss of your warm body against his, and then he couldn’t even finish the thought that he was turned around to face Eddie again. Steve’s eyes widened when Eddie bent down slightly to wrap his arm around the back of Steve’s thighs.

“What are you–” And just like that, Steve was lifted up into the air with ease, as if he were a feather despite the fact that he knew he was probably at the same weight as Eddie was. But the long haired man was stronger than he thought as he dangled over Eddie’s shoulder and arm. Eddie was holding him with his arm, pressing against the back of his thighs still so Steve wouldn’t fall. You looked at Steve’s face and you couldn’t help but smile wickedly as you saw the fucked out face that was on display for you. You knew Eddie shirtless was going to rile him up, but making Eddie show him just how strong he was… You knew he was going to go insane.

Sthenolagnia:

Sexual arousal to muscles and, or, displays of strength.

“Aw Eddie, he already looks like he is going to cum.” You said with a teasing tone as Eddie started going up the stairs and Steve only let out a small whine at your words. He really did look fucked out, and he was getting off just from Eddie’s strength. Suddenly, Steve jerked forward in Eddie’s hold, as he chokes out a moan in surprise, a loud smack vibrating through the home. His left ass cheek was stinging now from Eddie slapping him there.

“We have a long night ahead of us.” Eddie said and you giggled behind them as he finally reached the top of the stairs without even needing to catch his breath. It made Steve’s dick twitch to not hear a single pant, heavy breathing of some sort, nothing. Proof that Eddie was very strong.

Steve’s eyes locked with yours as you followed Eddie through the hallways of the home. Your hand raised up to caress Steve’s cheek and you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and you could swear you heard a small whimper get caught in his throat from your touch. Eddie opened the door to his room, and immediately placed Steve back on his own two feet. He took the opportunity of closeness to place a small kiss on Steve’s right shoulder.

Steve gasped slightly at Eddie’s action and then locked eyes with him. Eddie’s gaze shifted towards the room and Steve decided to finally turn around to take it all in, his eyes widening. An Alaskan king bed was in the middle of the room, black comforters all over, a tall ceiling that had wide windows on the side, black curtains draping over them. His eyes roamed all over to find two doors, one for the walk in closet, and the other for the main bathroom. Candles were over many small tables and dressers that decorated the big room, and he could see the guitars displayed on the wall.Steve’s heart melted a little bit to see that it wasn’t just an empty basic room.

He took a step inside to look at one dresser in particular to find, surprisingly, some art supplies. He smiled when he realized that there’s also a trace of yourself in this room. This wasn’t just a temporary home at all, this was yours and Eddie’s home. This wasn’t just a hollow vessel to keep him locked up. This was his freedom, and he cannot wait to put a piece of him inside of it as well. He felt a kiss on one of his shoulders and he looked to his right to find you smiling up at him.

“Welcome home Stevie…” You said in a sultry tone to him, making his eyes glint towards you, lust clouding his mind again, pushing the soft feelings aside until a later time. He almost jumped when he felt another pair of lips kissing his left shoulder this time, his head turning to see Eddie smirking at him. His lips then dove towards the crook of Steve’s neck and shoulder, making him groan at the feeling. You smiled at your partner’s actions, and you moved more towards his front to then lean towards his collarbone, placing kisses all over it, making Steve let a sigh of bliss out of his lips.

Eddie smirked as his tongue started licking along Steve’s pulsepoint and one of his hands went towards one of Steve’s ass cheeks, gripping it tightly, making the brown haired boy gasp through his strangled moans, not wanting them out just yet. Your tongue traced from one freckle to the other, freckles that covered his chest, small ones, big ones, you were obsessed with them. You gasped onto Steve’s skin when you felt Eddie’s hand on your own ass as well.

Steve suddenly yelped, making Eddie’s head get off the crook of his neck to look down at what you were doing, a smirk appearing on his lips. Your tongue was licking over one of Steve’s nipples in an apologetic manner, and Eddie could only guess that you had bit him. But Eddie could still see the grin that was on your face, a grin he never saw before but he was pretty sure that it was the same one he had whenever he fucked you how he liked.

“You like it when I hurt you, don’t you Stevie? I can feel your dick twitching against me.” You said to him, and Steve only nodded dumbly, looking down towards you with hope in his eyes and you could only smile as your eyes almost widened at how excited you were. You waited one year to finally show your other side, and you were going to not waste a single second of it.

Your mouth latched onto his other nipple, giving it a few kitten lips, and then you finally let your teeth sink into the flesh of the nub, biting harshly on him as Steve threw his head back with widened eyes as a moan escaped his throat, the grin widening on your lips at the sound.

Eddie chuckled at how dominant you were, but he felt a little bit left out from the action, so his hand lifted up from your ass to land a loud smack against the tightness of your ass, and you let out a strangled moan, letting go of Steve’s nipple to let it fall from your lips. Steve’s head looked down at you and he was surprised to see your eyes half lidded, almost teary. And that’s when Steve understood it, a grin spreading on his lips as he locked eyes with Eddie’s.

SadoMasochism:

Sexual Arousal on causing pain as well as receiving.

Eddie’s hand ran towards your scalp and he suddenly gripped your hair to rip you away from Steve harshly, making you whimper at the pain, a gasp escaping your lips as you tumbled back towards Eddie’s chest. He leaned down towards your ear to give you a small bite on your earlobe and Steve’s face flushed as he watched you both.

“Now Bunny… How about we take off that pretty dress you’re wearing?” You nodded rapidly at your partner’s orders, not only because he was your master, your owner, even if it were just that. But because he didn’t see you as only a possession, as ‘something’ to control. You both liked the play of it and it seemed Steve liked it too.

Eddie immediately started working on the zipper that was on your back, pulling it all the way down slowly as Steve waited patiently from where he stood in front of you, his hands to himself. Eddie could only smirk as he felt your shiver when his hands started gliding all over your back, and then towards your shoulders, underneath the straps of your dress, to then slide them off as he moved his hands on your arms.

Steve’s breathing stopped as the dress started falling off from your body, Eddie helping to pull it down from how tight it was. Steve could only look at your breasts, noticing some bruises here and there, making him gulp. His dick jumped up at the thought of Eddie roughly devouring you, and all he wanted now was for you to do the same to him. He wanted you to mark his chest, his arms, his neck, his ass, everywhere. Steve needed your mark on him, desperately.

Within a few seconds, you were bare in front of both men, heels coming off as well. You shivered at the cold of the AC hitting against your nipples, hardening them immediately. You stepped away from your dress for Eddie to kick it away. His hands suddenly wrapped around your waist, moving towards your front, making your breathing hitch slightly, and one of his hands moved to your breast, while the other started traveling south.

You sighed a moan out of your mouth when his fingers pinched your nipple, making your body twitch at the feeling. Eddie chuckled against your ear, his other hand reaching your folds. He couldn’t contain his chuckle when he felt just how drenched you were - it was smeared all over your inner thighs, and you moaned when he ran two of his fingers through your slit, reaching your clit. He harshly pressed his digits against your nub, making you whimper this time at the pain and the pleasure of it.

“Eddie…” You moaned out his name and Steve wanted to reach his hands towards you, but he knew better than to do that when Eddie was in the room. You were still his after all, and everything Steve could do to you was only allowed if Eddie said so.

“Now here is what’s going to happen. We are going to lay down…” As he said this, he guided you backwards and your eyes were still locked on Steve, a wicked grin appearing on your lips as you were manhandled onto the bed, being thrown in the middle of it by Eddie. You landed with a small ‘oof’ sound as you bounced on the mattress, turning to look towards your partner. Eddie’s eyes turned towards Steve, a smirk appearing on his lips. “And you will show me how good you are Harrington…”

“What–”

“Fuck her.”

Steve’s eyes immediately widened, not fully processing what Eddie was asking of him. Your eyes sparkled with anticipation as you moved to rest on your elbows to be able to look towards Steve. You wanted to laugh at how baffled he looked, the poor guy probably wasn’t coming with the expectation of fucking you, but rather getting fucked. You raised your legs, bending your knees to then spread yourself for him, and Steve’s gaze quickly shifted to the wetness between your legs.

“C’mon Steve… I’m waiting.” You moved one hand towards your cunt, using your index and middle finger to form a V-Shape, separating your lips to show yourself to him.

Steve’s dick bobbed in his jockstrap, and his mind was already fuzzy with the idea of being inside of you, so his hands reached backwards, and there was a small button on his pants, right above where the bunny tail was, securing the hole he had made on them. He popped it open for his pants to fall to the floor immediately, pressing against the fabric with one foot to pop one out of the elastics, doing the same with the other.

Eddie’s eyes looked all over him, mouth watering as he scanned his body, reaching towards the elastic of the jockstrap, making Steve gasp at the touch. Eddie smirked at the reaction, pulling at the elastic and then let it snap harshly onto the man’s skin, making him whine with a moan at the pain. Steve took the sign and proceeded to take the jockstrap off, having a hard time bending down because of the corset, so he had to crouch to completely take it off.

Steve stood up and your eyes scanned the length of his dick, eyes widening when you saw that the rumors of Steve Harrington being big were true. You licked your bottom lip as you salivated with the need to taste him, but that can wait for another time. Steve’s hands went to his corset but Eddie was quick to grab onto his wrist, making Steve snap his head towards him with widened eyes.

“Keep that on.” He almost growled and Steve trembled at the dominance of the man, precum already leaking from the pink tip of his dick. He gave Eddie a nod and took a step towards your impatient figure only to be stopped again. “Do not finish inside of her. That’s something only I can do until I say otherwise.”

At that, Steve couldn’t help but give Eddie a wicked grin, surprising the long haired man.

“Will you finish inside of me as well?” Steve purred and Eddie wanted to laugh at how delighted he was. This man was starving for you, and now he wanted him as well.

“Only if she lets me.” And that made Steve remember that he is yours, not Eddie’s, turning his focus back to you. You had a smirk on your face as your fingers were rubbing small circles on your clit as you looked at the two men. All their small talk, acting as if you were not in the room, only spiraled you more into the lust that built inside your chest.

Steve walked towards the edge of the bed, his knees hitting the soft mattress as he crawled between your legs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your wet cunt, and he couldn’t help himself as he leaned his head down, wanting to taste even if just a little bit, only for his hair to be grabbed roughly. He yelped as he was pulled upwards, his back clashing against a chest. Eddie had crawled on bed right behind Steve when he saw the man was about to dive into your cunt, something he had not ordered Steve to do.

“I said fuck her, not eat her out.” Eddie said in his ear, in a growl almost, as he pressed his lips against it. At Eddie’s command, you whipped your head to glare at him over Steve’s shoulder, surprising him as you groaned in displeasure at him. He let go of Steve’s hair, squinting at you as you were defying him for the first time.

“He is mine.” Steve’s body burned at your words and how protective you were being of him. Eddie cannot command everything for Steve, and he has to be respectful to your wishes, but Steve can only guess the punishment that awaits you later for it, and that was making him even harder than before.

“And you are mine.” Eddie growled back at you and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his eyes. Your hand left your clit instantly, knowing that without his permission you weren’t allowed to touch yourself, your dominance going back and forth, switching on and off depending on the man that talked to you.

Steve choked on his saliva when he felt a hand engulfing his cock, and he looked down to see Eddie’s tattooed knuckles, slowly, and just barely, moving back and forth on him. Your mouth watered at the scene in front of you, making your legs spread even wider and as you whined, your hips started thrusting upwards in short little jumps, telling the men that they were leaving you aside again. Steve gazed down at you before his eyes moved to look at Eddie.

“Eddie, I want to– Can I?” Eddie smirked at the politeness that Steve has with him, and he pressed his other hand on Steve’s shoulder blade, pushing him forward and the brown haired man got the hint. He crawled two more steps towards your raised hips, and Eddie helped him to line his cock in the slit of your entrance. Steve moaned when he felt the tip dampen with your slick, and you whimpered with the need of more.

“C’mon big boy, show me what you got. Fuck her like you mean it.” And just like that, Steve’s control snapped at the order, his hands flying to grip onto each side of your waist, making you smile, your upper body hitting the mattress to let Steve hold your hips up. He looked truly beautiful, and you couldn’t help but clench on nothing when you saw both men looking down at you, one dressed in white, the other covered in dark tattoos with black pants.

They were the complete opposites.

Your head fell back as your eyes widened at the stretch. Steve had started pushing forward into you, his nails digging into your skin, his eyes clenched tightly at the feeling. You were tight. How could your pussy be this tight? It was unreal, and Steve’s mind was completely foggy now. He didn’t know what was real and what was not, and the further he sank in, the more he started coming back down to the real world.

“Fuck–” Steve moaned out and Eddie smirked as he looked at how the two of you were slowly being connected. He had to admit that Steve’s dick was big, and by the look of your expression you were completely loving the feeling of him. Eddie encouraged Steve to move faster by grabbing the bunny tail, the buttplug, and pushing it forward, making Steve’s eyes snap open as a loud moan escaped his lips from the sensation of both of his ends being stimulated.

You couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief how good he was feeling. It was worth the wait, it was definitely worth the wait. Steve kept moving forward thanks to Eddie’s help and he snapped his hips into you, bottoming out and the two of you let out a loud moan as Steve held onto you. Eddie’s hand left Steve’s bunny tail and the latter man let out a sigh of relief, but also of discontent.

“Move Harrington.” Steve nodded at that, moving his hips backwards, not even letting you have a moment to adjust because that’s just how you liked it. You liked the pain of the stretch. You liked the shift from pain to pleasure. Steve snapped back into you, quick, surprising you as you felt him hit at the very deep of your gut, the slight pain that came with it.

“Holy shit!” You couldn’t help but curse at the feeling of someone else inside of you, someone else other than your partner, and it feels as if you were finally complete. Steve was something you needed, the piece that was missing between you and Eddie.

“Does he feel good, baby?” Eddie purred from behind Steve, looking at you over the other man’s shoulder as he saw how he kept moving back and forth, hips snapping against yours, your breasts bouncing in rhythm at the quick pace. You nodded dumbly as your eyes stared towards the ceiling in a hazy state, fluttering as moans slipped out of your lips.

“Fuck, yes, yes– He feels so good, you feel so good Stevie–” You choked on a moan as Steve slowed his pace to pull all the way out, only to slam himself back in in a quick and deep thrust. He moaned loudly, throwing his head back onto Eddie’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe that Eddie got you like this almost every night for a year already and he can’t wait for himself to experience it as well.

Eddie could only lick his lips as he saw Steve’s dick disappear inside of you, only to reappear again and then repeat that cycle. Your body was bouncing against the movement, and he smirked down at you as your eyes locked with his. His own dick twitched in his pants;he would only be able to hold back for a few more minutes, and he was surprised by Steve’s movements. He did in fact tell him to fuck you like he meant it, and he was doing exactly that.

“And you, Steve? Does she feel good?” Eddie whispered in his ear, to then kiss just below it and then follow down towards his neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind, making Steve moan as he nodded, his thrusts not once faltering in movement even if his mind was being overstimulated by the two of you. He was loving Eddie’s attention, but even more the fact that he was watching him fuck you. His dick twitched inside of you as he felt Eddie’s eyes once more on the place that connected you to Steve.

Voyeurism:

Sexual arousal from watching others while naked or having sex, or being watched.

“She feels good, she feels perfect–” You were staring at both men, moans leaving your mouth as the slapping of skin was heard all around the room, the wetness of your cunt making obscene sounds as well that only made you become even filthier. Your legs were already cramping, helping you to keep your hips up. Eddie chuckled against Steve’s neck, and he couldn’t help but latch his mouth to start sucking on his skin.

“No.” You sharply said in between your teeth, almost in a hiss through your groans. You felt Steve halt on his movements, slowing down so you could talk and Eddie let go of Steve’s neck as he stared down at you. “Do not mark him.”

“My bad, Bunny.” He was going to respect the ownership status. He was the only one that could mark you, and you were the only one that could mark Steve. His attention was back on Steve with a smirk on his face. “Now I’m curious about how you feel, how you clench, how you tighten around my dick…”

“W-Wha–?” He couldn’t even finish his answer when he felt Eddie’s hand grip the bunny tail again, but this time he pushed forward and then backwards, just slightly, not letting the buttplug come out yet, but it was enough to make it have a small thrusting motion. A choked moan slipped out of Steve’s lips as his thrusts stopped completely. Eddie growled and he raised his hand to slap Steve’s thigh harshly, ordering him to keep moving. Steve groaned in a whimper as he started following Eddie’s movement on his buttplug and your eyes widened at Steve’s expression.

He looked wrecked.

You wanted to see more of it, you needed to see more of that face, and you wanted the tears to roll down of his cheeks, to become so overstimulated that he cannot help but scream for mercy. You clenched around Steve and his eyes widened as he felt the burning on his belly beginning to form. It was happening way too quickly for his own liking and he shook his head, trying to move back from you.

“I– I’m sorry, I’m so close–” And you couldn’t help but smile lovingly because Steve had followed instructions. You commanded him to not touch himself for a month, and you knew that was a challenge but now you knew he followed the instructions because of how fast he was already close to cumming.

You immediately put your upper body back down on the mattress, making Steve slip out of you. He whimpered at the loss of your heat and you sighed of relief as your hips and legs relaxed again. Eddie took this chance for his other arm to wrap around Steve’s front, over his clavicle, Eddie’s hand grasping onto Steve’s opposite shoulder, pressing him tightly against his chest. Eddie’s movements never stopped on Steve’s backplug, making the man whimper and his hands made their way towards Eddie’s forearm for support.

“Such a good boy for us Steve.” Eddie said in an alluring tone against Steve’s ear, who was moaning at the feeling of his prostate being rubbed on. His dick was bobbing up and down, the increasing sensation of release creeping closer and closer. You quickly moved now, turning to lay down on your stomach, raising your upper body up and coming face to face with Steve’s dick.

“Want to taste you my sweet boy…” You were grinning as you stuck your tongue out to give Steve a kitten lick at the red leaking tip and Steve almost jerked forward at the sensation. Eddie’s hand that was on his shoulder moved to grip tightly on Steve’s jaw, turning his head to face him. Eddie’s lips clashed against the other man’s as you smirked up towards them, opening your mouth to take Steve into your mouth, your tongue licking all over the head of his dick as Eddie kept pressing onto Steve’s buttplug.

Steve was a moaning mess, his hips bucking back and forth onto the slickness of your tongue and onto the friction of his buttplug. His mouth was invaded by Eddie’s tongue and that’s when the elastic band in his belly snapped, completely, a loud whine escaping into Eddie’s mouth as you let Steve fill your mouth, the taste of him driving you crazy already. It was sweet, not even a tiny bit sour or bitter.

Eddie pulled away from Steve’s lips to hold him still because his body was jerking at every spurt of cum that left him. He looked down towards you and his own dick wanted to rip out of his jeans as Steve finally relaxed on him and you took your mouth away from him. Steve followed Eddie’s gaze as he breathed heavily and he couldn’t believe his dick twitched when you opened your mouth to show his spent to both men. You closed your mouth to swallow Steve’s cum.

Eddie immediately reached down to wrap his hand around your neck, making you chuckle in pleasure as he pulled you up, chest coming in contact with Steve’s sweaty one. Eddie instantly pulled you into a deep kiss so he could taste Steve on your lips. The brown haired man shivered at Eddie’s eagerness and his body flushed in heat as he was still panting from how intense his orgasm was just now.

You moaned into Eddie’s mouth as he swirled his tongue against yours and he groaned as he tasted the sweetness that still lingered there. He pulled away from you and then his hunger got the best of him as both of his hands went towards the front of Steve’s corset, wanting to rip it open, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that with the metal clasps. He groaned as he quickly started undoing the last of Steve’s clothing.

Steve’s eyes widened at how fast Eddie was working on his corset and then he saw how you moved your hands around his waist in order to reach behind him and towards Eddie to help him out. Steve was looking at your face, and you reached up to give him a soft kiss on his lips, and he couldn’t help but notice the remaining taste of him in your mouth, a soft groan escaping him. You started undoing Eddie’s belt, pulling the clasp open to then move onto his button and zipper as he finished undoing Steve’s corset.

Eddie immediately ripped it open, Steve letting out a sigh of relief, not having noticed how tight it had been. By ripping it open, it made the straps of chains on his shoulders slide down. Your hands left Eddie’s waist and you quickly moved away to crawl towards a night table, making Steve whimper at the loss of you. Eddie tugged onto the corset, making Steve’s arms move backwards in order to discard the clothing off, the wide silver elastic bands that pressed on his wrists finally coming off, and letting Eddie discard that piece of clothing to the side as well.

“On all fours.” Eddie ordered and Steve knew better than to go against that order as he saw you pull a bottle of lube out of the drawer, which made Steve’s softening dick begin to grow hard again. He let out a shaky breath as he let his body fall forward, both hands pressing against the mattress as he presented himself towards Eddie. A blush spread on his cheeks at how vulnerable he must be looking, but that was fine - it was just you and Eddie, no one else.

You bit your bottom lip as you crawled on the bed to be kneeling next to Steve. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of the bunny tail sticking out of Steve’s ass, and you looked at Eddie with excitement written all over your face. Eddie then grabbed onto Steve’s buttplug and slowly turned it, making Steve whimper at the feeling of overstimulation. You lifted the bottle of lube and let a small amount drip down where the plug was connected to Steve’s asshole.

“Relax baby, don’t clench.” You soothed Steve with your soft tone of voice and you could hear him taking in a deep breath before then letting it out. Your hand went towards the small of his back, rubbing small circles on it with your thumb as Eddie twisted the plug a bit more to spread the lube. He then started pulling backwards, and he could see Steve’s rim being stretched as the base of the plug began to show.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck–” He couldn’t help but feel the stretch of it. He knew that he was fully prepared inside, but his rim had already relaxed into the normal state. Eddie moved slowly, and then when the base of the plug was almost all out, he decided to stay put for a bit, twisting it slightly in order to adjust the rim in a larger size again. You licked your lips at the sight, completely hypnotized by it and how careful Eddie was being. Your heart was beating on your chest because of that action, and you smiled at it.

“You’re doing so good Stevie.” Eddie let out as he began to pull the rest of the plug much easier than before. He smirked knowing that he didn’t need preparation at all because the length of the plug was rather large. He experimented on moving the plug back inside Steve a few times, and he could feel how easy it was. Poor Steve felt himself growing crazy as his dick sprung back into hardness. He needed more. He didn’t want the buttplug. He needed something to go even deeper.

“P-Please…” He moaned out and that was Eddie’s snapping point. He had been patient and careful, and the two of you had had your fun. It was Eddie’s turn. He pulled the buttplug out of Steve, completely, and the other man let out a sigh of frustration. You stared at Eddie as he dropped the plug on the floor and he pulled himself out of the bed to finally rid himself of his pants and underwear in one motion. You licked your lips as you stared at his dick, red from how edged he already was, and you wanted to help him out so badly.

Eddie circled the bed, giving your cheek a soft caress as he passed by and you moaned in delight at that, handing him the bottle of lube. Steve’s eyes widened as he finally saw Eddie’s cock, and he wanted to take him into his mouth really badly. His eyes were teary as he snapped his head back to look at you with puppy dog eyes.

You understood what he wanted instantly, and you giggled, shaking your head at him.“Later baby.”

He whined when you forbid him of that right now, but he was going to dutifully do as you say. His eyes went back to Eddie who was getting himself comfortable in the middle of the huge bed, his back resting against the pillows and he was barely laying down. His dick was almost pointing at him from how hard he was and how curved it was.

“Ride me Harrington.” Steve shivered at the command, and as if his body was taken over by pleasure and lust, he started crawling towards Eddie, his face coming close to his dick and he almost went against what you said. But he closed his eyes,not letting himself be blinded by desire before looking back at Eddie. He crawled over his body, only to be stopped once more by Eddie putting a hand on Steve’s chest.

“W-What?” He asked and the long haired man smirked as he nodded once at him.

“The other way.” Steve’s eyes widened at that, gulping loudly but following orders. He crawled backwards in order to turn around in all fours and then started going back towards Eddie, this time his ass facing him. Eddie licked his lips as Steve’s legs started spreading, his knees opening as he slid closer towards Eddie, finally resting against Eddie’s thighs. Steve heard the bottle of lube being opened and then the coldness hit his asshole again, and he knew it was already going inside of him thanks to the gape the plug created on him.

“Eddie is going to make you feel so good baby.” You cooed at Steve who was blushing your way. You had decided to sit on the bed, one arm behind so it would help you support your body, legs spread again as you rubbed small circles on your clit.

“Come here big boy.” Eddie had pulled himself forward to press his hands on Steve’s chest in order to make him move backwards. Steve followed, his position changing completely as he helped himself with his hands behind him, on each side of Eddie’s ribs, pressing his feet against the mattress in between the other man’s spread legs, lifting his hips up. Adrenaline rushed all over Steve’s body, knowing that once he started going down, Eddie would start going inside of him.

You bit your lip as you saw Eddie lining his dick on Steve’s entrance as he stroked himself a few times. You saw Steve’s excitement splayed on his face as he let himself go down and his eyes widened towards the ceiling as he felt Eddie’s tip start to stretch the rim of his asshole even more than the buttplug did, and he noticed that Eddie had covered his dick in lube because it was sliding easily inside of him.

“FUCK!” Steve yelled as he kept sinking himself down on Eddie, not wanting to stop, the pain mixing with pleasure as he felt the pressure growing on him the deeper Eddie went. Eddie had to throw his head back onto the pillows, his body growing hotter as pleasure slowly started enveloping his mind.

“Just a bit more Stevie…” You said in a soft reassuring tone and that made Steve nod as he took another deep breath in to let himself sink even further down. It was as if there was no end to Eddie’s dick because he just kept going down, and down, and he was being stretched in places that the buttplug didn’t reach. Steve’s dick was already leaking precum again as it laid on his stomach and you were salivating with the need of tasting him again, but you opted to keep rubbing circles on your clit to keep you on the brink of your climax. Moans escaped your mouth as groans escaped Eddie’s and whimpers escaped Steve’s.

Steve finally slammed himself down, making Eddie bottom out in him and Steve let out a strangled moan, in pain, in pleasure, he didn’t know. Eddie was too deep inside him and he was touching places no man, dildo or plug touched before. The tattooed man leaned upwards to press a kiss on Steve’s back, trying to get him to relax because he had tensed his muscles at the friction.

“Move when you are ready darling.” He softly said to Steve and that made the other man sigh and completely relax on his hold. He felt safe, secure, and he knew that the pain would go away at some point but he also loved it so he didn’t care if it didn’t. He pressed on his feet for impulse and he raised his hips up, just barely, and moved down again. He groaned at the feeling and then he repeated it as Eddie’s tip and length started rubbing against his prostate.

“Oh god…” His face became flushed as the pleasure started taking over, his belly turning as he started going upwards even further than before and then going back down again. You were amazed by how fast he had adjusted to Eddie. You had to prepare yourself for a whole week to take Eddie into your ass for the first time, and even with that you took some minutes to be able to adjust to him.

Eddie’s hands came to grasp on Steve’s waist as the brown haired boy started moving even faster than before, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, throwing it back in pleasure. Steve felt his dick hitting him in his stomach each time he bounced on Eddie, hearing the man groaning behind him as loud degenerated moans started escaping Steve’s lips. These moans were completely different from the ones that he let out when he was fucking you.

You bit your bottom lip as you felt your face heat up at the sight before you. You saw how Eddie suddenly raised his hips up, putting his weight on his feet and it made Steve stop bouncing as his hips were raised up, Eddie’s dick pushing deep into him. Steve’s eyes snapped open when he felt Eddie chuckle behind him, and that’s when his whole mind was thrown out the window. He didn’t know who he was anymore as Eddie started fucking into him in a brutal pace.

“H-HOLY SH-SHIT!” Steve almost screamed those words as his head was thrown back at how quick Eddie was moving into him, his dick bobbing all the while as he kept himself up for Eddie to keep thrusting freely at his pace, the noises of skin slapping filling the room.

“Oh my god…” Your voice was dry as you looked at how Eddie was fucking into Steve, hungrily, and you could hear him groan, sometimes even moan under Steve. “How does he feel, Eddie?”

“Fucking amazing.” He said in a growl and he knew he was answering the question he asked Steve minutes ago. He could hear Steve’s choked moans above him and he smirked at the sounds, knowing he was about to make them worse. He impaled himself inside Steve, making the other man moan loudly as his eyes started tearing up from the feeling. He started pulling his hips back down onto the bed, making Steve follow him. Steve was confused because he was feeling good, breathing heavily, turning his head to his side to talk to Eddie.

“What happened?” He asked and Eddie only chuckled.

“Bunny, ride him.”

Steve’s eyes widened as his head snapped at you who was already getting up on the bed with a smile on your lips, excited and Steve felt like he was going to die right then and there. Your legs spread the farthest of the three of you, planting one foot on each side of Eddie’s hips, your ass facing Steve. You crouched downwards, and you spat on your hand, to then wrap it on Steve’s dick, pumping it a few times.

Steve moaned curses, he could feel Eddie move slightly underneath him as you pumped his dick and he was already dreading feeling you at the same time he felt Eddie. You smirked as you lined the tip of Steve’s dick at your entrance and slowly started sinking down on him, making Steve throw his head back with a silent moan escaping his lips. His breathing completely stopped, not knowing how to take all of the stimulation that his body was suffering.

“Oh, he feels so good.” You let out as you sank all the way down in order to bottom out. Steve only groaned at the feeling and you didn’t need time to adjust at all, so you immediately started moving up and down on him, quickly changing to a fast pace as you felt the coil in your belly start to turn.

“O-Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Steve was completely gone at this point. Tears started sliding down his cheeks as he felt himself going in and out of you, but thanks to you riding him, the mattress was bouncing, and that made Eddie bounce in and out of him as well. Your arms were thrown backwards because you needed support. One of them landed on Eddie’s shoulder, and you angled your upper body to the side so your other arm could wrap around Steve’s shoulders.

You started twisting your hips in a circle motion, making Steve see stars, and he had realized he had access to your right nipple. In order to give you more pleasure, he latched his mouth onto it, gently biting onto the nub and pulling on it. You moaned loudly, your moving completely stopping at the feeling of your nipple being played with. You heard a loud groan beneath you and you knew Eddie had grown impatient.

“C’mon.” He raised his hips up forcefully, this time a little less than before, making Steve and you follow the movement, and then Eddie started thrusting into Steve once again and that made Steve go into you at the same pace that Eddie was fucking into him. You moaned loudly as you pinched your eyebrows together at the sensation, Steve never leaving your nipple as he kept sucking and biting onto it.

“Oh this feels so fucking good, holy shit.” You couldn’t help but express how amazing you were feeling. You couldn’t help but love the pace of it, and how good Steve’s dick was hitting your g-spot. Steve was a moaning mess beneath you, but he wanted to make you cum, at least help you with something. His belly was burning but yours was even more heated.

“Is Bunny going to cum?” Eddie teasingly said below the both of you, but he was trying to hold back on his own groans, his own moans, because everything was too erotic right now. Your moans mixed with Steve’s was just too pornographic. Steve whimpered when he felt you clench around his dick and you nodded dumbly as you pinched your eyes together. Eddie’s hands traveled from Steve’s waist towards yours and you started moving as well on Steve, trying to chase your orgasm.

The different paces were making Steve cry in pleasure. You were clenching on him as you bounced on your quick pace while Eddie was pounding harshly and rapidly underneath him. You kept going until finally you felt your belly turn as the climax was nearing closer and closer, your eyes going to the back of your head and Steve took this chance to bite onto your nipple again. That was your breaking point.

“FUCK!” Your walls clenched tightly as your hold on Steve grew tighter, and your head was thrown back in pure ecstasy. Stars flashed behind your eyelids as your legs trembled at your intense orgasm. Steve let go of your nipple to let out a loud moan, almost a cry of pleasure at the feeling, and Eddie halted his movements, finally huffing at how much he had moved in the past few minutes.

You twitched while on top of Steve, slowing your movements as you rode the last bit of your orgasm, breathing heavily as your back sticky with sweat, mixing with Steve’s own sweaty chest. Steve was sandwiched between you and Eddie and he was heaving for breath, moving slightly underneath you so he could take more oxygen into his lungs. You got the hint and pushed yourself up, letting Steve’s dick slip out of you again, making him wince at the feeling. Your legs were wobbly as you crawled away, and you were trying to regain your breath for the next part of your night. The part that excited you the most, as well as Eddie.

“You have to move darling. How do you want him?” Steve frowned at that, his chest going up and down until his attention snapped towards the clinking of some metal and leather. His eyes widened as he stared at what you were holding in your hands with a smile on your face as you still tried to catch your breath.

“On his back, head hanging off the edge. I want to see his pretty face as I wreck him.” You could see Steve’s face blushing a deep red in complete need as he heard your words. You smirked at him as you saw how the mascara stained his cheeks. You wanted to be the cause of those tears now, and you wanted to see it. “You want me to ruin you baby?”

And Steve nodded desperately.

Masochism:

Sexual arousal from pain, non life-threatening.

Eddie urged Steve to move, and the man above him got up on the bed, Eddie slowly slipping out of his asshole, making Steve whine at the loss of friction and stretch. He stood up and his legs almost gave out before Eddie immediately sat up to grab the back of his thighs to prevent him from falling down. Even if it were on a bed, he could fall back towards the headboard. Steve let himself fall on his knees and you could see how cock drunk he looked as you started putting the strap on, on yourself.

Steve crawled towards you and your eyes widened as he took his tongue out towards the black tip of the dildo that came with the strap. He kitten licked at the fake slit of the head of it, and then took it into his mouth, letting his saliva start coating the silicone. You smirked as your eyes turned dark and Eddie saw the shift in yourself. Your hand shot up to grab onto Steve’s hair and he whimpered at the sudden pain.

“What a cock drunk slut.” You hissed out and Steve whined at the degradation as you pushed your hips forward for him to take more of the silicone dick into his mouth, pushing his head further into it by his hair.

“You know how to pick them.” You hummed at Eddie’s words and your hips slammed forward with force, Steve’s eyes widening as you didn’t let go of his hair and you started ramming your fake cock into his mouth, making his saliva drip down onto the comforter. You heard Steve gag and you grinned wickedly as he looked up at you with tears streaming down his face.

“Look at his face Eddie.” Following your words, Eddie stood up from the bed, walking to stand next to you at the edge of the bed and his eyes widened at the beauty below him. He couldn’t see Steve’s face before, and now that he can see it, he realized how close he is to finishing, feeling his dick twitch and jump slightly. You grabbed both sides of Steve’s head and, in order to make a show for Eddie, you started pistoning your hips as you pushed Steve into you, making the tip of your silicone cock rub at the back of his throat repeatedly.

Steve gagged as gurgling moans were heard in the room, fresh tears running down his eyes as he tried to keep breathing through his nose but it was becoming too much. Yet, his dick was in desperate need for more. He needed more. The pain was just pleasure for him, and he wanted to be used, he wanted to be ruined, he wanted to be wrecked, and you and Eddie were making sure that he felt that way.

“Jesus fuck. Get on your back Harrington.” Eddie ordered desperately and you giggled at how needy he sounded, grabbing onto Steve’s hair to pull him away from you. When your fake cock left his mouth, the poor man took a deep breath in to get oxygen back into his lungs. You looked down at how well he coated the silicone with his saliva, but you wanted to make sure that it remained pleasurable so you urged Steve to get on his back as you looked for the bottle of lube at the edge of the bed.

Steve was panting, his shaft screaming for the need of release again. He laid back, looking at the ceiling and then Eddie’s face came into view as he looked down at him. Eddie’s hands came to rest behind Steve’s neck, pulling him a little more towards the edge and Steve helped him by scooting slightly in Eddie’s direction, but Eddie didn’t drop his head yet, knowing that you wanted to see Steve’s face first.

You opened the bottle of lube and squirted a nice amount of it onto the silicone, smothering it so it was nicely coated. You licked your lips in anticipation as you threw the bottle away and you crawled on the bed towards Steve, getting in between his spread legs. You smiled when you saw Eddie grinning at you as he held Steve’s head up for you to look when you finally wreck him.

“Ready?” You ask the man below you and he quickly nodded, his hips moving slightly with need and you bit your bottom lip as you put one of your hands behind his left knee and pulled it up to help him spread even more for you, while your free hand got hold of your fake dick, putting the tip at the already stretched rim of his hole.

Steve frowned in pleasure, mouth falling open in a silent moan as you started pushing the head in slowly, driving your hips forward, your other hand grabbing the back of his other knee and pushing it upwards like the other. How could it feel so good? Was it because it was you? Was it because it was his owner taking him? He didn’t know, but everything just felt too good, and he knew he was defiled now. This was his now, his future, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“M-More, please, please…” He moaned desperately and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle as he listened. You smirked as you remembered what Eddie does to you when you ask something like that, so, you copied him. Your hips immediately slammed forward, and you knew he could take it. It was different from pussy, but he was already stretched, so the pain was not even going to be there. He cried in pleasure as you bottomed out in him, new tears forming in his eyes as he looked at you.

Your fingers dipped harshly into his skin as you started moving your hips back to then slam back in, a yelp coming out of his lips. You started gaining rhythm, moving in and out of him at a normal pace and you looked down at his face - it was love at first sight. He looked drunk, tears running down his face, his eyelids stopping half way, and you knew that his mind and all his rational thoughts were completely gone.

That made your hips start moving quicker against him, the slapping on skin and the clinking of the strap filling the room.

“Oh Eddie, he is so pretty, so fucking beautiful. Thank you, thank you for letting me have him, thank you.” Your mind was foggy with desire, looking at how wrecked and red Steve’s face was as he moaned out your name over and over in a prayer. You looked at where your bodies joined, his dick jumping up and down at the movement of your thrusts. Steve looked up at Eddie, eyes showing need and desire. He understood. He dropped Steve’s head, letting it hang on the edge of it and Steve smiled as he came face to face with Eddie’s dick once again.

“Can I?” Steve asked and Eddie looked up at you. You smiled and nodded your head as Eddie grabbed his shaft, grinning as he crouched slightly in order to aim it towards Steve’s mouth. He had opened it already, sticking his tongue out so Eddie could fit it into his mouth as easily as possible. One of Eddie’s hands landed on Steve’s chest as the head of his cock was engulfed into the other man’s mouth.

“I won’t go slow on you.” And Steve knew that. Eddie wasn’t like you at all. Eddie was a full on sadist, while Steve was the complete opposite and you were the mix of the two. That’s why Steve fits perfectly into this new equation, into this new puzzle, into this new partnership, relationship. He didn’t care what the label was, the only thing he knew was that he wasn’t going to leave you or Eddie any time soon.

Your pace quickened when Eddie started going deeper into Steve’s throat and his thighs were grabbed by Steve’s hands to have some leverage for him to not move forward thanks to your thrusts. Eddie closed his eyes in pleasure as he felt Steve’s throat opening easily thanks to the position he was in, a heavy groan vibrating from the depth of his chest. He was close, he really was. Looking at you thrusting into Steve while he throat fucks him was starting to become his tipping point.

He drove his hips backwards and back into Steve’s throat, feeling the vibrations of his moans sending shocks of pleasure all over his body. You bit your lip as you looked how deep Eddie was going into Steve’s throat, his pace starting to pick up and Steve’s saliva started making him gurgle around Eddie’s cock. You slammed your hips forward, diving into Steve, making him whimper around Eddie who let out a huff at the feeling. You stayed there and started grinding your hips against Steve’s, rubbing against his prostate back and forth.

He was so close, Steve was so close, and Eddie needed more. His hips started thrusting into Steve’s mouth more forcefully, making him gag slightly until he recovered and started breathing through his nose in sync with Eddie's movements. You chuckled as you let go of one of Steve’s legs, spitting into it so you could wrap it around Steve’s hardened dick. His eyes shot open for a second at the surprise of it, only to then close them as he felt you start to move your hips back and forth again, your hand following the rhythm of it making him moan even more around Eddie’s cock.

“Kiss me baby, please–” You begged Eddie, moving forward as you kept gliding your hand up and down on Steve’s shaft, his precum and your saliva mixing to let you move smoothly on him. Eddie grinned at you as he leaned forward, his other hand pressing onto the bed to keep himself up as his hips kept ramming into Steve’s throat. Your hips slowed down into deep shallow thrusts, making Steve cry in a loud whine every time you slammed yourself into him.

Eddie finally clashed his lips against yours, and you moaned into his mouth, pussy clenching on nothing at all as you both went in and out of Steve Harrington. You could feel yourself having trouble thrusting in and out as easily as before because Steve was most likely clenching as he neared his climax. Your hand moved faster as Eddie bit your bottom lip, making you his in delight, feeling a copper taste fill your mouth. He pulls away from you to look down at Steve’s throat, seeing himself going in and out, and he pulls away from him, slipping his cock out of his mouth.

A choked sigh escaped Steve’s lips as he panted heavily, trying to catch his breath, the blood completely up in his head making him dizzy and the feeling of his orgasm even more intense. He felt like he was going to explode as he bounced against your thrusts, moving quicker this time. Eddie’s hands wrapped against behind Steve’s head and he pulled him up so you could see his face again.

“Look at him Bunny… Look how broken he is.” Eddie said as he looked down at Steve’s face, a whine escaping the other man’s throat as your hand started moving in a rapid motion and the tip of the silicone dick started hitting his prostate repeatedly.

“You’re going to cum for me, pretty boy? Let me see you.” And that was all it took for Steve to moan out your name loudly, a cry, a thank you, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his dick and onto his belly, some reaching as far as his chest. You felt him drip down on your hand as you halted your movements because it became hard to thrust into him from how hard he was clenching on himself.

He didn’t know for how long his orgasm lasted, but he felt drained, completely spent . When his body finally lost its tension and he let out a huff of breath, that’s when you pulled out, a whimper escaping Steve’s lips. He felt empty, clenching on nothing, knowing there was a big gape from his once small hole, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. His throat hurt from how hard Eddie had fucked him there, but that’s when he realized that Eddie didn’t finish. He opened his eyes to look up at the man that was still holding him up, with a smirk to his face.

“What about you?” Steve says in a hoarse voice. He heard clinking on the bed and he was assuming that you were taking off the strap from yourself. Eddie chuckled and helped Steve to sit up on the bed, a wince escaping Steve’s lips, already feeling his bottom half hurting and sore.

“On your knees, floor. The both of you.” Eddie replied and you looked at Steve with a smile to your face as you rushed to kneel in front of Eddie. Steve was surprised at how quick you recovered from what happened but he guessed your stamina grew stronger after a year of being with this man. He winced again when he moved his legs towards the edge of the bed and stood up on wobbly knees. He was definitely fucked out, but he wants to make Eddie finish, he wants to taste him.

So Steve kneeled down next to you, smiling up at Eddie in the same manner that you were. Eddie had his dick right in front of the both of you and you were the first to make a move. You leaned forward to run your tongue along the shaft on one side and Steve took the hint almost instantly, copying your movement for on the other side. You two ran your tongues back and forth on his dick, slurping sounds filling the room with a few of Eddie’s groans.

Steve took the chance to glide his tongue further down, licking at the spot in between his balls and cock, to then completely swipe his tongue against his ballsack, making Eddie hiss. You wrapped his dick with your hand, moving back and forth as Steve started sucking on one of his balls, his mouth making a ‘pop’ sound every time he pulled away. You smirked at Steve’s action and licked your lips as you moved your head towards Eddie’s inner thigh and bit down onto his flesh.

That made Eddie come close to the edge.

“Tongues out.” He commanded and you two knew exactly that you had to stay still. Steve smiled at you as he pressed his face against yours, cheek to cheek, and the two of you were looking up at Eddie, tongues out, waiting for him to reward you both. Eddie moaned into his throat at the sight as he started pumping his dick with his own hand. This night was something that was planned for a year, and Steve had exceeded his expectations completely. He was going to have fun with the boy when you were on a mission or a meeting. That is if you let him, of course.

Eddie’s face twitched as his movements became desperate for release and his hips bucked into his hand once and twice, and then strings of cum started shooting out, coating your face, tongue as well as Steve. Eddie never came this hard, he had to keep himself from doing so the whole night, and he almost busted when he was inside of Steve. He somehow managed to not do so, so a lot came out but you two weren’t displeased by it, quite the opposite.

Eddie saw how the two of you opened your eyes and then looked at each other. Steve leaned forward to catch your tongue with his, smearing Eddie’s cum between the both of you, to then finally connecting his lips with yours, tongues dancing with saliva and Eddie. You both heard a chuckle above you and pulled away only to find Eddie smiling at the two of you.

“Aren’t you two so pretty?” You giggled alongside Steve and the lust that was in the room finally came to an end, at least for the night. Steve’s laughter stopped as he winced in disgust, looking down at himself, seeing his sweat and cum mixed together. You smiled at him, getting up from the floor and getting hold of his hands to help him up, making him hiss at the pain of his legs and bottom half.

“Time to shower and to take care of you, my beautiful boy.”

Eddie was smoking as he laid his back against the headboard of his bed, damp hair falling over his shoulders. He had showered with the both of you and quickly ran back to the room to change the comforters into new ones while you ran a bath for Steve to help him soothe his sore muscles and clean him from all the lube that was used on him.

You stumbled into the room, giggling with your arm wrapped around Steve’s, both of you in white robes, a smile never leaving Steve’s lips as you helped him walk on steady feet. You looked up to see Eddie in the center of the bed and smiled widely at him.

“Well you two are having fun so it seems.” Eddie commented as he took a deep swig of his cigarette, letting the smoke out of his lips and towards the tall ceiling. You rolled your eyes at him as you helped Steve get into bed on one side, a wince escaping his lips as his bottom touches the mattress. Eddie’s hand immediately reached forward to rub on Steve’s back, motioning him to scoot closer to him.

Steve was surprised by the intimate gesture, but followed his guidance, hissing as he scooted closer to lay on Eddie’s chest as he cuddled up to him. Eddie’s hand immediately went to the small of Steve’s back, running soothing circles against the skin.

“Don’t be so jealous about it.” You said and Eddie scoffed at that. Steve couldn’t help but think how crazy it was to be this carefree with the two of you after what you two had done to him. He trusted you both more than he ever trusted his father–

“Oh!” Steve sat up as he remembered something, earning him a grimace of pain in his features. You rushed to his side to see if there was anything wrong with him but he quickly regained his composure and looked at you. “Did they bring up the black bag I mentioned?” He asked, and you tilted your head, nodding at him and walking towards the walk-in closet that was in the room. Eddie was confused as he saw how you walked back in with what looked like a school bag.

“Are we learning the ABC’s today?” Eddie asked with a snicker and Steve only rolled his eyes at him as you handed the bag to him.

“I didn’t want to catch any suspicions with it, so I covered it up as a normal sleepover bag.” He took out a pair of pajamas that perfectly hid a black folder that nestled inside. He took it out, throwing the bag and clothes to the floor and handing the folder to Eddie. The long haired man raised an eyebrow at it, putting the cigarette in his lips as he took the folder in his hands and laid it on his lap. He opened it to start reading the content of it, a smirk slowly forming on Steve’s face.

Eddie grabbed onto the cigarette again to finally let out a delighted laugh.

“You gave me your father’s clients. People I can blackmail. The rights to several bank accounts and companies. You know this will destroy the Harrington Emporium, right?” He asked but he knew the answer. You were giggling with excitement as you rushed to the other side of Eddie to take a peek of the list that was on his lap.

“My father does not deserve the power that he has… You on the other hand…” Steve spoke in a sultry tone as he leaned again towards Eddie, placing a soft kiss against his chest, and your eyes were looking at Steve with adoration and excitement.

“Now Stevie… Don’t forget you are mine.” Steve chuckled at that as you leaned forward, right above Eddie’s chest with a pout on your lips. He leaned towards you to press a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away with a nod of his head. You two heard a throat clearing and you turned your heads to look at Eddie glaring down. You giggled and pressed a kiss on Eddie’s lips, and he let out a hum of contentment at it.

When you pulled away he looked at Steve and he copied your movement and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. When the two of them pulled away, Eddie had a sick grin to his face, and he realized that he now had it all. He had the power, he had the daughter and son of the biggest mob families in the district, and now the three of you would live together. And he knew Steve was good with bribery pacts, so he was going to be useful to Eddie in that sense.

Of course, there were feelings inside of each of you that were too complicated to put into words, so you all let it be as it is, and that was good enough. Eddie got the power, but you and Steve finally got the freedom you so desired. The freedom you two have craved since you were kids. You were owned, but not caged. You didn’t let people make decisions for you, and no one can tell you what to do now… Except intimately.

"Eddie~" You whined at him, making him chuckle as he turned to face you.

"Yes?"

"I didn't get to have your dick tonight…" You were pouting at him, Eddie shaking his head as he placed a soft kiss against your forehead. Steve giggled at your actions, only for him to now look at Eddie with a serious look on his face, catching the other man's attention.

"Can I finish inside of Bunny next time?" He dared to ask and Eddie chuckled darkly as he took another swig of his almost finished cigarette.

"I'll think about it, Pretty Rabbit. We just had a few things planned first, but they can wait for a while now that you're here with us. We will just postpone them for later on." At that Steve's head tilted to the side in confusion, looking towards you for answers. You giggled at his confused frown as you started talking while cuddling against Eddie's side.

"Eddie has all this new power and actions, and he wants the lineage of it to keep being… Munson." You softly said as images start jumping in your head, growing excited for it. Steve's eyes widened as he looked at Eddie for confirmation, who was already looking down at Steve with a smirk to his face.

"I need an heir."

Bang, bang, bang, bang, goes the farmer's gun. So run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run.

Reblogs help artists to engage even more in this platform, only liking does not do much BUT I DO APPRECIATE IT.

a/n: well that was one hell of a ride, so I hope you enjoyed that filth!

SEE STEVE'S OUTFIT HERE IN THIS AMAZING COMMISION @pach-inks DID FOR ME

Taglist: @ghost-proofbaby @munson-blurbs @theflowerrooms @sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @xxhellfiregirlxx @hellfirefiend @corrodedcoffincumslut @pastel-pillows

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krirebr · 2 months

Text

Welcome to Your Life

Pairing: dark vampire!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.75k

Summary: During a drunken night out on vacation, you're brought to a strange club and presented to a mysterious man. Part of Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Warnings: Horror elements, dark elements, mind control, some blood and gore, feeding on humans, captivity, dub/con, SMUT - All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Divider by @saradika

We're All Monsters

Masterlist

A/N: And here it is, the first part of Vampire Steve's solo story! If you missed his introduction, it was in I Can't Sleep Cause My Bed's On Fire. You don't need to read that before you read this, but some of the world-building (specifically how his club works) might be helpful. Plus, it's a vampire threesome, so 🥵🥵🥵

This is also the first part of the new, super-expanded supernatural universe that I'm doing with @paperweight91, playing off of what I started with my Psycho Killer AU. Big thanks to Chelsea for all her help on this and for just how much fun it's been to come up with ideas with her for this whole universe.

Now, where it might get slightly confusing, but I really hope it doesn't. This story introduces a new character, Cutter, who will eventually be a reader in one of Chelsea's stories in her werewolf half of this au. She is not physically described at all here, other than being a woman. I hope it gets you excited about what @paperweight91 has in store for her.

As always, any comments, reblogs, or asks are very appreciated. You know how much I love this Steve. Please come screech with me about him!!!

You were shaking. That was the only thing you knew. You didn’t know where you were or what you were doing there. Not even how you’d gotten there, just that you were standing in the back room of some club, surrounded by people—were they people? Of course, they were. What else could they be?!—unable to move, and you couldn’t stop shaking.

You’d been on vacation with some friends in Berlin. You’d all decided to have a wild night out together but were quickly separated. While tipsily searching for them at a club, you’d bumped into a man, an American, who told you his name was Cole. And suddenly, looking for your friends didn’t seem as important. He’d told you he knew a great bar just a few blocks away. You didn’t really remember agreeing to go with him, but now you were here, in a room full of strangers who wouldn’t stop leering at you. No one had done anything or even said anything, but you knew in your bones that you were not safe. And yet, you couldn’t move.

Cole, especially, wouldn’t take his eyes off you, your neck in particular. You desperately wished for something to cover up your club attire. A woman was leaning against the wall in the corner, sharpening her ridiculously long nails with a knife. She looked up occasionally, and this time her gaze landed on Cole, a scowl on her face. “You know he gets first taste,” she said, before looking back down in disinterest.

“I know,” he said, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh.

“Everything has to get his approval before it goes on the menu,” she continued, still not looking up as she filed her nails to a terrifying point.

“Yes,” Cole gritted out, “I know that, Cutter. I’m not fucking new.”

“Then stop acting like you’re jonesing for your next fix. You’re that fucking hungry? Go get yourself something to eat that actually is on the menu.” Nothing they were saying made any sense.

He scowled at her, but started to leave the room, and then, suddenly, stopped. Everyone stopped. Cutter looked up, listening for something, then pushed herself off the wall and made her way over to you. She brushed one of her exceedingly sharp nails over your bottom lip. Looking you in the eye, she breathed, “Kneel, sweetheart.” And you were on your knees before you had any idea what had happened. She smiled at you and added, “Be quiet,” and you knew, in every cell, that you wouldn’t have been able to make any noise if you’d tried.

One of the doors opened and a tall, broad, beautiful man came into the room and you felt the energy of everything change. It was like it was all, yourself included, suddenly charged with electricity. You’d never felt anything like it. He zeroed in on you instantly and made his way over. You felt the instinct to cower, but it was far away, almost like it was behind a wall. And you still couldn’t move anyway. All you could do was shiver.

The man looked at you carefully. “Pretty,” he said, absently. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip just like Cutter had. Then he gripped your chin and angled it up so you were forced to make eye contact. “Give me your wrist,” he said and you couldn’t explain the feeling that moved through your body, only that you reached your wrist up to him, you had to, and waited for him to take it. He took it in his firm grip and placed his thumb right over your pulse point. He pressed down hard and smiled when you still didn’t move, didn’t react. It was like you didn’t know how. And then, something happened, so quickly you couldn’t process it. Fangs descended into his mouth and he lowered his head to your wrist and bit down hard. It was some of the worst pain you’d ever felt, but you didn’t pull away, didn’t make a sound. It wasn’t until you felt the wetness on your cheeks that you even realized you were crying. It was like all the different parts of you were separated.

He pulled his teeth from your wrist and then licked the wound clean. He grinned at you and said, “You have excellent taste in cocktails, honey.” Then he looked over at Cutter and his smile dropped. “She’s still drunk. You should have known better.”

Her mouth fell open, and then she flung her hand out at Cole who stood sheepishly on the other side of the room. “Cole’s the one who brought her in!”

He was in front of her in a blink, the arm that was still in the air now in his firm grasp. She grimaced. “And you know exactly how good his judgment is,” he growled.

“Steve,” she whispered, just barely loud enough for you to hear her.

The man (could you even call him that? Deep down you knew what he was), Steve, brought his face as close to hers as possible. “When I put you in charge,” he said, so lowly, “I expect you to be in charge.”

She just stared at him for a moment meeting his gaze, then dropped her own and nodded. He smiled fondly, you were surprised to see, and kissed her on the cheek. “You know he needs supervision.”

He made his way back to where you were still kneeling, now cradling your arm. He bent down to you slightly and stroked a hand down your neck. “There’s something there, though,” he said, although you weren’t sure who he was talking to. Certainly not to you. “Underneath everything else. I’ll try her again tomorrow and see how she is when the blood’s pure.”

You gazed up at him, confused, and he gripped your chin in his hand. “You may speak,” he said.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” was all you could manage.

“Oh honey, of course, you don’t,” he said with a grin that frightened you. “The good news is that you’ll never need to understand anything ever again.” He looked back up at the room at large. “Set her up in a room upstairs.” He released your chin and made his way to the exit, pausing as he was almost out the door to call “Cole!” over his shoulder. The other man quickly followed him out of the room.

Cutter came to stand in front of you. She looked you in the eye and said, “Up,” and without thinking, you were on your feet. “Such a good girl,” she cooed. “Follow me,” and suddenly that was all you wanted to do.

The room she took you to was better described as a cell. There was a cot, a toilet, and a sink. No windows. Painted grey. It was tiny. Cutter left as soon as you were inside and you heard the door lock behind her.

You sat down on the bed and closed your eyes. You felt the urge to panic but it was like your body wouldn’t cooperate. Your heart rate stayed steady, your breaths even. You were calm, even if that was the last thing you wanted to be.

These people must have done something to you. People, right. You knew what they were. Every single one of them had stared at your neck. Steve had fangs and he’d literally drank your blood. You knew, even if an hour ago you would’ve sworn that was just fantasy. Vampires. You were being held captive by vampires. What the hell?

There was nothing to occupy your time in here except for your thoughts, so you curled up on the cot and tried to convince yourself that it was all a bizarre dream. Eventually, your exhaustion overtook you and you fell asleep.

You weren’t sure when exactly you woke up. You hadn’t seen a single window since Cole had brought you into the building last night. Because sunlight kills vampires, you thought to yourself, somewhat hysterically. Your memories of the night before were… weird. And not just because you swear someone drank your blood. They were patchy. And yes, you’d been drunk, but not that drunk. Not so drunk that you blacked out small portions of the night. And certainly not so drunk that you hallucinated vampires. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. There was no way out of the cell. Nothing in it that would help you. All you could do was wait for whatever it was that was coming for you.

Sometime later, hours probably, a slit in the door you hadn’t noticed before was opened, and a tray was slid through. Food. You gathered it quickly and sat on the bed. There was a carton of water and a plate with a large salad that was mostly made up of spinach and lentils. Iron-rich food, your mind supplied. The previous night seemed more and more real.

.You thought about refusing the salad, but you were so hungry, so you ate it. It was surprisingly good, but not what you would have chosen for what would probably be your last meal. You lay back down when you were finished, curled up on your side, and daydreamed of something more satisfying than a spinach salad.

More time passed. You stared at the walls and tried not to freak out. You wondered if your friends had made it back to the hotel. How long it took for them to realize you were missing. Were the police searching for you? Did your family know? You couldn’t help it when the tears started. You were pretty sure you were going to die here.

You dozed in and out for who knows how long. And then the door opened. Steve walked in with Cole behind him, carrying a chair. You jolted up and pressed yourself into the wall. “Stop,” Steve said, and everything did. “Calm down,” and you felt everything in your body slow. Suddenly, you couldn’t access whatever it was that you’d been so scared of. So you sat still and watched him.

Cole handed Steve the chair and he placed it in front of your cot. He sat down and looked at you. His gaze made you feel so small. He reached out his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers against your knee. A chill ran up your spine, not just fear, but an excitement too, that you couldn’t explain. “Give me your other wrist,” he said, lowly, and you immediately did. He took it in his hand and brought it up to his nose, forcing you to lean forward. He inhaled deeply. “Much better,” he said. “You’re all sobered up now, aren’t you?”

You didn’t respond. You knew, deep inside yourself, that he didn’t want you to. His fangs dropped and you braced yourself, something in the far recesses of your mind knowing that you should be scared. With a slight grin, he sank his teeth into your wrist. The pain was just as bad as the night before but soon, so much quicker than the last time, it was over and Steve was pulling away, his eyes still locked on you.

“Shit,” he breathed.

“What?” Cole asked, from his place by the door. “She’s that bad?”

“No,” Steve growled. “She tastes like sunshine.” He stood up and leaned over you, running the back of one finger across your cheek. “Precious thing.”

You looked up at him and blinked. “Please,” you said, “please, I want to go home.”

“No, honey,” he cooed, so gently, “you’ll never go home again.” As you tried to process that through the fog, he turned to Cole. “Put her in my private reserves. I’ll have her for dinner.” And then he was out of the room.

Cole looked at you, a pout on his face. “Goddamnit,” he grumbled, “I’ve been waiting for a taste.”

“You’re gonna bite me, too?” you asked, alarmed.

He sighed. “Not anymore. I’d rather not face the true death, thanks.” He looked you in the eye. “Come with me.”

You felt something move through you at that. There was definitely a strong urge to obey that you wouldn’t resist, but it was nothing like what you felt with Steve, or even Cutter, where it was like your body was on strings. It wasn’t a huge weakness, but you were taking note of everything at this point.

Cole took you through a long series of hallways that you couldn’t hope to keep track of. Cole talked the whole way, mostly inane bits about his frustrations with the pecking order in whatever vampire organization this was. You marveled for a moment at the fact that you were describing something to do with mythical monsters as inane. Finally, just as you arrived at a door not dissimilar to the one you’d just come out of, he concluded with “You’re a really good listener.”

You gaped at him. What did he think was happening here? He’d targeted you, done something to you to bring you here where you were trapped and probably going to die and he thought you cared that he didn’t feel respected enough by his fellow monsters???

But staying alive right now was your primary concern, so you just quietly said, “Thank you,” and let him show you into the room.

It was much bigger than the cell, but still small, along the lines of a spacious walk-in closet. There was a plush rug under your feet, a deep rose color. A four-poster bed was to one side covered in a big, fluffy comforter that was in a lighter shade of dusty pink and piled with pillows to match. The far wall was entirely made of mahogany built-in bookcases that were completely full of books. There was a soft-looking armchair in the corner by the shelves. You turned back to Cole and asked, “What is this?”

“It’s your room,” he said with a smile. He looked you in the eye. “Now,” he said, and you felt his words travel through your body. He pointed at a door without breaking eye contact, “that’s your bathroom. You’re going to use it now to get very clean and smooth. There are lotions you’ll use after to make yourself soft. There are things in there,” he pointed to a beautiful armoire in the corner, “for you to change into when you’re done. Steve will be back in a few hours and you will be ready for him. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice coming out of you without any conscious thought or effort, “I’ll be ready for Steve.”

“Good girl,” he said, and gently patted your cheek. He stood awkwardly, watching you, but now that the command was in you, you were focused on getting to the bathroom so you could get clean. He was in your way.

“I have to get ready for Steve,” you told him, your voice sounding oddly robotic to your own ears.

Cole blinked at you and then sighed. “Right,” he said, sounding almost forlorn. He stared at you again and then shook his head. “I’ll see you again soon,” he said, stroking one hand down your arm. And then he finally left.

It was the most luxurious shower of your life.

When you came out of the bathroom, clean, smooth, and more moisturized than you’d ever been, you opened the armoire to find a small collection of slips in different sizes hanging in it. You found the one that would fit you best and put it on. It was black, a combination of silk and lace. It felt expensive against your skin. You searched the drawers, and next to a collection of silk briefs, you found a pair of black lace panties that would work for you.

Once you were dressed (or as dressed as you were going to be with what was available), you moved to the bookshelves. They were chock full of every genre and category you could think of. Vaunted classics next to dime store romances. Shakespeare collections and airport schlock. You ran your fingers across the spines, when, suddenly, from behind you–

“If there’s something you particularly enjoy, let me know and I’ll have someone get it for you.”

You spun around to find Steve just inches from you. You hadn’t heard a noise when he’d come in. There was a coldness emanating from him that made goosebumps rise along your flesh. Your breath caught and he grinned. You inhaled and asked, “You aren’t going to kill me?”

He laughed. “Oh no, Sunshine. You’re too delicious. I’m going to be feeding from you for a long, long time.”

You tried to back up, but the wall of bookcases blocked you. You pressed yourself into it anyway. He opened his mouth and you hurried to say “Please don’t make me calm down!”

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side. “Explain,” he commanded and you were obeying before you even registered the word.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I feel it when you tell me to do things. And I– I don’t know. I don’t know.” You wanted to obey, every part of you was trying, but you had no vocabulary for any of what this was. So you were left chanting, “I don’t know,” over and over.

“Stop,” he said, and of course, everything did. “You can feel it?” he asked. “The compulsion? You actually feel it move through your body?”

The word was new to you, but you knew what he meant. You nodded and he hummed. “Oh, you are very interesting, aren’t you, pet?”

You didn’t say anything to that, just watched him warily. He gave you a sharklike grin that sent chills down your spine and said “Now, calm down.”

And just like before, you felt everything inside you slow. Your body sagged a bit against the shelves, no longer trying to push your way through them.

“There,” he said, cupping your face in his large hand. “Isn’t that better, little pet?”

He guided you to the armchair and sat down in it, pulling you onto his lap. You could feel the supernatural strength in his thighs as you settled on top of him, sidesaddle, as he took all of your weight without any reaction at all. He scratched his thumbnail down your jugular and you closed your eyes. “It hurts,” you said, your tone surprisingly flat for how afraid of all this you’d been just a moment before.

“Hmm?” he questioned, as he nuzzled his nose along your throat.

“When you bite me,” you said, still so calm, “it hurts so much.”

“Oh, is that all?” he asked and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’ll make it feel just as good for you as it will for me.”

With that, he moved one of his hands in between your legs, slowly sliding it up your thigh. His face was fully in the crook of your neck when he mumbled “Feel this,” and you felt the command vibrate through your whole body. The calmness that had flattened you faded away and you let out a little whine when his hand reached your mound. He pushed your panties to the side and slid his fingers between your folds. You gasped as he quickly found your clit, tracing slow lazy circles around it. You tried to grind down onto his hand and you felt him huff a laugh into your neck. His tongue darted out, licking a wide stripe all along your vein. You let out another whine, so desperate this time.

He chuckled again. “I was going to make you get wet for me,” he said, as his fingers began to prod at your hole gently, his thumb still working at your clit, “but I don’t need to, do I? Or at least, not with my voice.” He was right, you were already soaking, and there was no resistance as he slipped one finger inside of you. You squirmed against his hand and he added another finger.

His mouth was still on your neck, lapping and nipping at your jugular, but he hadn’t sunk his teeth in yet. He scissored his fingers for a moment, stretching you so good that you cried out before he added a third. They stroked inside your walls, looking for your spot. He found it and you threw your head back.

“Come on,” he growled, “give me what I need.” He curled his fingers, scraping against that place inside you just right. You screamed as you were thrown over the edge of your orgasm and that’s the moment he finally sunk his fangs into your neck. You felt it, you did. The pain was just as intense as before but mingled with some of the strongest pleasure you’d ever felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your body spasmed around his fingers as he loudly sucked from your neck. You swore that you could feel the blood rushing to both places. You babbled as you coasted along the waves of your orgasm, feeling like it would never end. Even as the aftershocks quieted and slowed down, his mouth was still latched to your neck, taking what he needed from you. Your body was fully collapsed into his now. Everything offered up for the taking.

Finally, his teeth left you and he gently licked the blood from your skin. He slowly removed his fingers from you and you whined at the emptiness. He brought them up to your lips. “Clean up your mess,” he commanded and your mouth dropped open without thinking. He slid his fingers in and you swirled your tongue around them. You tasted yourself, sweet and musky, as you sucked him clean. He pulled them out with a soft pop and wiped them on the bodice of your slip.

You looked at his face. He still had your blood on his lips. You felt the odd urge to kiss him but didn’t have the chance as he pushed you off his lap. Your knees buckled, too weak to stand. He laughed gently, like you might at a cute animal that was struggling, as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed. He laid you down and tucked you in. “Rest up, Sunshine,” he cooed, and your body did as it was told, quickly sinking into sleep. “I’ll be back for more soon.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @femefetalelevelingup

#everybody wants to rule the world #we're all monsters #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers #captain america #vampire au #dark!fic #dark fic #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #kris wrote something

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boxofbonesfic · 9 months

Text

Title: Brave [1 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: You learn the hard way what it takes to survive this new life.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, More tags to be added

A/N: i had too much fun with this concept so i decided to stretch it out into more than one part! i really hope you guys enjoy.

“You understand what I’m telling you, Sweetmeat?” He says, tapping the underside of your chin with the flat of his blade. His bright blue eyes seem to dance with amusement. “I’m telling you to run.” You jump, gasping as he turns the sword with a flick of his wrist, bringing it down in one smooth motion to cut the thick length of rope between your outstretched hands. It falls to the dry grass between your feet, and he straightens back up in the saddle. The massive Clydesdale paws impatiently at the dirt as he laughs again.

“Run.”

You do, with the orc-pack’s laughter burning in your ears. The grass crunches beneath your feet as you sprint. You gather your dusty skirts up around your knees as you make for the tree line. The sound of a horn spurs you onward.

“The river, Sweetmeat!” His voice carries to you from across the hill. “You’ve only to make it to the river!”

Dry branches tear at your face and clothes as you force your way into the brush. The fear disorients you, but only for a moment. They will run you down if you take the path, sure as daylight. Instead, you make the choice to stick to the trees, moving between them as quietly as you can. You’d seen what the blue-eyed-orc had done to the others—one by one offering them the same choices—

Run and die. Run or die—

No one got to live.

It made a sick sort of sense, you supposed, if you used Orc-logic. They were weak—unworthy of the water it would take to sustain them, of the burden it would take for a rider to bear them. You had watched as first the baker’s boy, then the cobbler, and then the smithy each followed the blue-eyed-orc’s instruction, stumbling down the mountain path and disappearing into the trees—only to be brought back at dusk, their remains thrown to the wargs.

Your father had been good for little else but finding his next ale, but he’d paid his guild taxes same as everyone. And a fat lot of good it did him. The few soldiers stationed at the outpost nearest your village had been felled laughably easily, almost as easily as your father. And now he was gone, and you were here, a day’s ride south of the charred remains of your village.

The horn blows behind you a second time, and you swallow your terrified sob. No—you mustn’t panic. It is fear and panic that will get you caught. Your mother’s voice rings in your ears. Find green, she whispers as you crawl through the trees. Find green.

And you will find water.

The trees aren’t dead, not really, not at the roots. There’s thick brown moss growing at the roots, between the sparse patches of dry grass. You fall to your knees, ripping at it. The top layer is dry and brown, flaking away easily under your fingernails. But underneath—

Green.

The sound of hoofbeats approaching on the nearby path quickens your step. North—the river is north. You gather what is left of your torn skirts in your hands, trying to stay low and quiet. You have seen the thick-shafted arrows strapped to the backs of the broad-shouldered orc warriors, and you’ve no desire to feel them bury themselves in your back.

“Fan out!”

Half-blind you push forward, your own ragged breath deafening in your ears. You’re not going to make it—there is no river, there never was, there’s nothing for you to find out here, nothing—

And then you see it.

The river is drawn back from the bank, a shrunken skeleton of itself—but it is here. From the width of the bank and the depth of the riverbed, you can tell it was once a mighty thing, now tamed by the unending drought. The red clay is dry and crumbling beneath your bare feet as you stumble toward the water. It is cool on your feet as you splash into it, your feet sinking into the mud.

There is a sound like a whistle, like a switch splitting the air before it parts skin, and an arrow sinks into the wet clay by your feet.

“Don’t stop now, Sweetmeat. You’re so close.” The voice is taunting, and hatefully familiar. Slowly you turn, and the blue-eyed-orc is there on the bank. His bow drawn, another arrow already nocked. You stare at one another, your heart pounding in your chest. You wait for him to draw back the bow, to loose the arrow—he doesn’t. After a moment, he lowers it.

“Brave little thing, aren’t you?” He asks, cocking his head. “You’re not going to run?”

“No.” You don’t want to die like your father—cowering, with an axe between his shoulder blades that he never saw coming. “I would see my death.” The blue-eyed-orc grins, one sharp fang hanging over his lip.

“Oh?” To surprise, he stores the arrow back in its quiver, and takes a step closer. “You’ve no weapon to meet it.”

“It will come whether I’ve steel or none.” You match his step, taking one further back into the river. The muddy water laps at your calves, soaking into your dress. Over the sound of rushing water and the thunder of your own heartbeat, you hear the horses. The riders approach lazily, slowly, like they know you’re cornered.

You are.

The pack doesn’t interfere; don’t come any closer than twenty or thirty paces from the riverbank, content to watch as the blue-eyed one circles you like a wolf.

“Not going to beg, either, I imagine.” He says, and trembling, you shake your head. You’re up to your knees in water now, your skirts soaked and dragging in the current. You are expecting him to unsheathe the massive, hooked axe on his back, to bring your death down upon you swiftly—but he does not even reach for it. Instead, he reaches for your face, cupping your chin in his huge hand.

“What are you called?” When you answer, he rolls your name around in his mouth like mead. He turns your head this way and that, like someone inspecting an animal for sale. You know he must feel it, the race of your pulse under his fingertips. After a moment, he pulls back, directing his sharp gaze over his shoulder.

“Bring a horse for her, Buck.” He says, licking his lips. You watch as a ripple passes through the pack at the impact of his decision.

“What—what are you doing?” You ask hoarsely, your teeth still clenched tight with fear. He grins at you over his shoulder as he makes for the bank.

“A deal’s a deal, Sweetmeat,” he replies, beckoning you to follow. “You get to live.”

to be continued

#chris evans fandom #cevans fandom #chris evans fic #cevans fic #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers AU #Orc AU #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers imagine #dark fantasy AU #AU #boxofbonesfic

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sarahowritesostucky · 7 days

Text

Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago.

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.”

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?”

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared.

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?”

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.”

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear.

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs.

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer.

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no—

“Looking for this?”

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.” He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.”

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?”

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?”

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.”

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger.

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger.

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for.

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?”

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.” He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens.

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.”

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you.

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat.

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.”

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.”

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you.

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?”

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss.

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?”

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?”

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.”

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.”

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch.

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little,

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?”

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.”

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?”

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him.

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen.

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there.

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him.

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word.

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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evansbby · 2 years

Note

bestie pls feed us spanking blurb, the immediate urge and need to be over daddy mafia ari’s lap whilst he just ignores ur pleas and cries and pulls down ur panties and spanks u 🥺😌

I’m literally at an airport so this’ll have to be brief but here goes… 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Pairing: mafia!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

Warnings: dark!Ari, dd/lg, smut, spanking, daddy kink, voyeurism, dry-humping

Summary: Your daddy punishes you after you accidentally say a bad word.

“Daddy, please!” You cry, desperately wiggling around in Ari’s strong arms. He’s got a death grip on you, however, and he’s barely using even a quarter of his strength. “Please, didn’t mean to say it! Please!”

You hate punishments — especially spankings because they hurt and make you cry like a baby — even when you try your hardest to be brave. Even right now, you look at Ari with the biggest puppy-dog expression, eyes welling with tears.

“Honey, you know daddy has to punish you. Else you’ll never learn.” Ari’s got his stern voice on, which lets you know that there’ll be no worming out of this one. He easily manoeuvres your flailing body across his lap, pinching the flesh of your ass in warning, “and stop moving or else I’ll use my belt.”

You still immediately. He’s never used his belt on you but you don’t want today to be the day he does.

Sniffling, you look over your shoulder at him dejectedly, “Said I was sorry, daddy. It’s just— the oven was so hot and I forgot I’m not allowed to use big girl words— it just came out, I swear.”

Ari sighs, methodically flipping your skirt up and pushing your panties down, and he can’t help but squeeze the bare flesh of your ass. “Well, that’s another strike, because you shouldn’t be using the oven without supervision anyways.”

You pout, “b-but I’m your wife— how else am I supposed to cook for you? Ow!”

Ari gives your ass a firm slap, admiring how it jiggles, “Don’t get sassy with me, honey. You’re my wife but you’re also my baby. And what have I told you about babies?”

You hang your head dejectedly and recite: “babies like me aren’t allowed to do big girl things without daddy’s permission.”

“Good girl.” Ari strokes your hair back, petting your head like you’re his puppy, and you can’t help but lean up into his touch. “Now, baby. I want you to count every spank, and thank daddy after each one. Got it?”

Your lower lip quivers but you try to be brave, “Y-Yes, daddy.”

SMACK.

“O-One. Thank you, daddy.”

You grimace, biting your lip to keep from crying out loud. And Ari’s really enjoying himself, squeezing and groping at your sizzling flesh after every few spanks, as if he can’t help himself. He even presses his lips down on the sensitive flesh of your ass cheek, kissing you softly before landing another harsh smack.

“Look at your little baby ass, practically begging for a good old-fashioned spanking.” Ari murmurs, jiggling your cheek lewdly and making you wince because it hurts so much. “Baby wives like you need their daddies to keep them in check like this every once in a while, don’t you agree, honey?”

SMACK.

“T-Ten, thank you, daddy! I agree!” You cry, silently begging for mercy yet at the same time wiggling downwards, unable to keep still because the rough denim of his jeans feels so good against your throbbing pussy.

“Now look at you, wet from a spanking and humping your baby pussy on daddy’s leg like a little bunny in heat.” Another spank, and another one, and now you’ve lost count. “And in front of all your little stuffed animals too? You must feel so ashamed.”

You tearfully glance at all your stuffies, longing to have your stuffed rabbit, Floppy, in your arms to comfort you. Instead, you receive another series of hard slaps, the lewd sound of the smacks echoing around the room.

“Apologise to them too.” Ari orders you, voice dripping with authority and sick lust. “C’mon, honey. Apologise to your little stuffies for being such a naughty baby with a potty mouth.” He slaps your upper thigh and you hiss in pain, “Tell your little friends what a bad girl you are.”

“I’m a bad girl!” You cry desperately, unable to lock eyes with the toys, feeling silly and ashamed and humiliated all at once. “I’m sorry, stuffies and I’m sorry, daddy! Won’t ever swear again, please!”

A final slap and then Ari’s pulling you upright, gathering you in his arms while you sob into his chest. “There, there, baby.” He coos, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair back, “Daddy had to do it. How else will little babies like you ever learn the rules?”

More kisses, more fondling, and he even licks up the stray tears falling down your cheeks.

“I know you’re just a baby and it’s confusing for you to remember all our rules— but that’s why you need daddy. I don’t want to hear another swear word come out of your mouth, you got that, honey? And no going near the oven, either. It’s dangerous for babies.”

You sniffle and nod, feeling especially small — as if you truly are his baby — as Ari cuddles you. Readily, you accept his thumb when he pushes it against your lips, sucking on it noisily to calm yourself down from the whole ordeal you’ve just gone through. Your ass feels like it’s on fire but you know that your daddy knows best.

“That’s my good little baby,” Ari coos, pinching your cheek and holding you close. And it’s crazy how he’s made you so addicted to his babying, to the point where you physically need him to act like this with you — especially after harsh punishments like this.

“Curtis.” Your eyes widen at Ari’s suddenly gruff tone, and your blood runs cold when you see your husband’s right hand man step out of the shadows in the corner of the room.

Had he been there this whole time?

“Cancel my meetings for today. My wife is being particularly needy.” He gestures down at you lying mortified in his lap, trying to push your skirt back down as you desperately continue to suck on your daddy’s thumb.

“Got it, boss.” The buzzcut-haired man nods and leaves, and Ari turns his attention back to you.

“Next time you break one of daddy’s rules, I’ll spank you in front of all my men, you got that?” He shoved his thumb further into your mouth, choking you slightly as your eyes begin to water, but he’s got the same loving look on his face.

“My little baby… soon enough I’ll have you trained to know all of my rules, even if it’s too much for your little baby brain to handle.”

THE END

AHHHH PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!! I wrote majority of this at the airport then finished it just now!!

#chris evans x reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #Chris evans #Steve rogers #Ari levinson smut #chris evans fanfiction #Ari drabble #mafia ex husband ari au #dark ari levinson

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wroteclassicaly · 25 days

Text

Summary: The summer of 1996 is one of change. You don’t do well with change, and you loathe a forced move to Los Angeles for college. That is, until you meet Steve Harrington - the perfect guy, the charmer, or so you think. But things always find a way to unravel, don’t they?

Based off the 1996 movie Fear, I bring you my first ever Dark!Steve AU. Chapters will be posted on Fear Fridays!

Warnings: Language, smut, anal sex, vaginal sex, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, stalking, rough sex, dark!Steve, drug usage, public sex, violence (not against reader), arguing, manipulation, oral sex, vaginal fingering, handjobs, and MORE (hah)!

Track listing:

Wild Horses (coming SOON)

Sugar Water

Heart Shaped Box

Creep

Zombie

Closer

Friday I’m In Love

Santa Monica

Right Now

Champagne Supernova

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Note

hi bestie 🥺👉👈 I saw that your requests are open so… yandere!nomad!Steve falling for someone while on the run, he still wears disguises and stays low profile so it’s easy to follow her around, but he grows tired of the distance and strikes !! me thinks… he has her swooning immediately (after all, he already knows everything about her), and goes full daddy mode during their first time: rough and nasty but sweet, a dash of mean and condescending bc she fell right into his trap 🫶✨

hi, baby! I really hope you like this, and I'm sorry it took so long, I wasn't expecting a literal writing goddess to request something, so I wanted to make it as good as possible!🥺

summary - the moment steve saw you, he knew he needed to have you. so he thought the best way to get to know you... was to stalk you, what happens when he finally makes his move?

warning - stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, semi-public, smut, daddy kink, potential kidnapping.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips and @firefly-graphics

Steve couldn’t stop. For months, he’s been following you wherever you go, watching you. He’s even gone as far as stalking you to your home, sneaking a peek through the windows. His favourite part was when you slept, well, the second favourite. Nothing could beat watching you shower and lathering your nude form with lotions afterwards or the fact you’d take out your pathetic excuse of a toy and shyly play with your pretty little cunt.

A grunt falls from his lips as he tugs on his throbbing member. Steve’s lust-filled eyes focus on your exposed cotton white knickers, balls tightening as the cloth sticks to your folds. The thought of getting caught excites him even more. Steve watches your soft breasts bounce when you stand, and the sight causes him to pick up the pace.

When Steve feels his end approach, he stops and tucks his hard cock back into his pants. A dark smile forms on his face as he stands at full height. Steve’s grown tired of just watching you. He wants to feel you under him. He wants to make you moan his name instead of those pathetic ones you let out with your small toy.

The burly man takes long strides toward the naive woman. When he gets close enough, your vanilla perfume fills his senses. His cock twitches, and the excitement of finally talking to you, makes him nearly cum. He clears his throat as he stands behind you, needing your attention.

The squeak that leaves your mouth and how you look up at him with those doe-like eyes as you spin around. Nearly make Steve go feral, he offers a charming smile, hoping not to scare you away. Steve holds back a smirk as you relax under his gaze, “sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you look and had to come to introduce myself.” He puts a handout, nearly groaning when you slip your small one onto his. “I’m Steve.”

“I’m Y–Y/n” He brings her hand to his lips and gently kisses her flesh, enjoying how her cheeks turn a rosy pink.

“That’s a beautiful name, which doesn’t surprise me as you look like a goddess.” A smooth chuckle leaves his lips, his hand still holding yours as he looks down at you. “Would a gorgeous woman like yourself be willing to let me take her out?” A dark smile appears on Steve’s face when you nod, cheeks turning a darker shade of pink.

“D–Daddy! Too much! Ohhh.” Steve growls, slowly pulling his cock from your tight cunt only to thrust back in roughly. One hand grips your hip while the other pulls the front of your dress down, groaning as your breasts bounce free. Steve leans down and latches onto your nipple, grunting as you pulse around his thick, throbbing member.

“T–Too much? Is my cock too big for the poor baby?” His large form leans over your tiny body, squashing you further into the bed as his thrusts continue. “Weren’t you just begging me to fuck you, baby? I thought you said you could take me. Were you lying to me, sweetheart?” His cock throbs as you whimper, feeling his cock throb as thick tears roll down your face. You feel so full and split open at the same time your mind begins to go dumb. “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you can answer me. Don’t you want to make daddy happy?”

“I do! I do! I wan’ make daddy happy! F–Feels good, so good!” You babble, drool leaking out of your mouth and eyes rolling to the back of your head, legs tightening around his waist, wanting to feel him deeper. A whine escapes you as his thrusts become more brutal, causing your body to move up the bed. “Daddy! M–my daddy!”

Steve grunts, his darkened blue eyes glaring down at your sopping cunt, watching his cock pierce in and out of you. “That’s right, sweetheart. All yours, just like you’ll always be mine.” Your hands curl and grip the blankets, biting into your lip as you stare up at the god-like man. Steve deepens his thrusts. “You going to be my good girl and cum? Cover daddy’s cock with your juices?” You nod, whimpering and crying as your walls tighten and spasm around him. Steve groans as it becomes harder for him to pound into you. Using some of his super soldier strength, he pushes through. His eyes roll back as you squeeze his thick member. Juices squirt from your used hole, covering him and the sheets around you. Your body sags into the bed, and exhausted moans leave you when he continues to pound into you, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as his balls tighten and his cock twitches. Steve buries deep inside you, letting go, spurts of his thick cum filling and leaking out of you.

You whimper when Steve pulls out of you, tiredly watching as he lifts his finger and collects the cum that leaks from your hole and pushes it back in with a curl of his finger. “D–Daddy…” Steve continues to thrust and curl his finger until you twitch and more of your juices coat him.

He takes his finger out and puts it into his mouth, groaning as he tastes you. His eyes roll back, sucking your juices off of his finger. Steve crawls beside you and pulls your used body against his large one, stroking your hair as you slowly drift off to sleep. “It’s okay, sweetheart….” He looks down at you and smirks, “You have no idea how much I have been holding myself back from you.” Steve leans down and presses a kiss on the top of your head whilst whispering. “And now that I’ve finally had you, I’m never letting you go. I love you too much to let you slip from my fingers, my sweet baby doll.”

He lies back, slowly drifting to sleep with you in his arms, smiling as he thinks of the cute little sounds you’ll make as you cry when you wake up and find yourself in an unknown place. Steve found you once and won’t let the last of his happiness disappear.

You will be Steve’s forever… whether you like it or not.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 days

Text

the girl next door 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“Mom, we should get going,” you say as you check your bag.

Your mother sits at the table. It’s cluttered as always. You can see her inhaler amid the mess. Wait, there’s another one. You cross the kitchen, only two steps, and grab both inhalers. You feel the subtle difference between them.

You take both, putting the full one back in the medicine cabinet and the other in the disposal bin. The doctor said the inhalent would help with your mother’s dopamine levels, balances her out a little, but the new treatment only seems to be another symptom of her disease. She hates doing it, she hates all of it, but you can’t blame her for that.

“We can’t be late for the consultation. We’ll be waiting another six months,” you come back to the kitchen.

She looks at you as she wobbles slightly. The tremor is more prominent than before. Each day you notice it more. All the little things changing about her. She’s a bit slower, her words don’t come easy or always clearly, and her mood grows grimmer and grimmer. So does yours.

You grab your purse and the keys. You’ll clean up when you get home. It doesn’t take very long for living to pile up though. Especially when you’re the only one to keep it in order.

Your mother grips the table and stands up. Getting her dressed was a battle already won. Her posture is slightly crooked as she shuffles around the table, “I’m moving.”

You step back, waiting patiently for her to round the table. She grumbles. Your mother was never bright and bubbly but ever since her diagnosis, she’s lost any glimmer of warmth. It’s like she’s living in a fog, just slowly wading through.

You walk down the hall ahead of her and pick out your shoes from the rack. As you kneel to tie your sneakers, she leans on the wall and slides her feet into the orthotic flats. She’s not very old yet. Neither of you expected her to decline so quickly.

You stand and open the door. You back up though the screen door and hold it for her. Her steps get a bit smoother the more she moves around. The permanent scowl sinks into the lines of her face as she comes out onto the porch. You lock the door behind her as she grunts and leans on the railing, stamping down each step to the walkway.

You follow behind her. That’s another problem. The lawn. The old mower broke. You haven’t been able to replace it.

As you trail your mother to the car, she swats you away. Sometimes you try too much for her. You know she must feel helpless. You back up as she sits heavily in the passenger seat and your eyes skim around the neighbourhood. The white sign on the lawn next to yours catches your eye.

You remember the finely dressed woman, her very image on the sign, and how she grimaced at the weeds and grass. If she’s going to sell the property, the neighbours shouldn’t be living in a jungle. You heard her say as much over the phone as she paced back and forth on the porch.

You mother pulls the door shut but it doesn’t click. You give it an extra push to secure it and round the hood. You get in the car and turn the key, rolling down the windows as the early summer morning crowds the tight space. Your mother mutters and wipes her forehead with a shaky hand.

“Let’s just go,” she sneers, “waste of my time...” she bends her arm over the open window, her fingers quivering, “damn doctors said it enough. Nothing they can do. Charlatans.”

“Mom,” you chide gently, “the surgery could help. If you qualify--”

“I heard ya last night,” she snaps. “Just drive.”

You nod and snap your mouth shut. You shift into reverse and back out of the drive. You know better than to talk too much. Your mother never liked hearing anything she didn’t want to hear. Facts are just an attack on her.

You steer down the street slowly, following the curve of the suburban street. The green lawns and white picket fences are palatial at first glance. It’s a 1950s fever dream implanted in the twenty-first century.

Your house is the black stain on an otherwise pristine canvas. The HOA must curse your grandmother for her leaving a perfectly nice home to a pair of beatnicks. You don’t blame them. You’re the puzzle piece that doesn’t fit, leaving a gaping hole in the picture.

The radio crackles on and you wince. Your mother struggles to turn the knob and the volume pendulums up and down. You reach to help her and she smacks your hand, only softly as she has little strength behind it. You retract and grip the wheel, listening to buzzing struggle of her unsteady. You just hope the appointment goes well.

🏠

Your mother hasn’t said much since the appointment. That worries you. What should be good news is just another dark cloud over her.

She sits as she often does; half-reclined in the chair by the window, watching the neighbourhood just outside the pane. She’s just a resentful of the picture-perfect neighbours as she if of everything else. As she is of you.

You tidy the kitchen table as the unsaid dangles in the air. You know better than to bring it up. She barely acknowledged it when the doctor said it. She’s a good candidate for surgery but it isn’t a cure. It will help with the symptoms but not stop them altogether. It’s not good enough for her but it might just be her only hope of relief, even if temporary.

“Bring me a coke,” your mother calls through and you hear the hollow tin clatter of an empty can.

You bring the dirty dishes to the sink and set them beside it. You go to the fridge to grab a red branded can and let the door shut on its own. As you enter the living room, your mother sits forward, the recliner snapping forward with her weight. She leans on and elbow as she squints through the window and cranes over the armrest.

You pick up the old can and put the new one on the small table by the chair. She sits back and takes the Coke, trembling as she struggles to crack the tab. You know better than to help her. The curl in her lip warns you better.

“Someone’s looking at the place next door,” she says.

“Oh?” You move behind her chair and try to the next house. You can only really see the edge of the porch from here. You could open the side window but that would give more than a view of the siding and might be too obvious. “New neighbours.”

“Eh, if it sells. Could do better without these stuck-up prissy bitches running around measuring grass,” she growls of the Home Owners’ Association.

You nod. She’s right. You’ve had to deal with that nosy blonde too many times.

“We’ll see,” she mutters as she finally gets the can open and slurps. “Just hope it’s not another bitch.”

You cross your arms and step closer to the window. You sense movement just beyond your vision and the realtor in her pantsuit comes down the front steps of the neighbouring house. She turns back to face someone you can’t see and speaks to him. Their words are garbled by the barrier of window and wall.

The woman smiles and spins to strut down to the sidewalk. A man follows after, a slow stroll in his long legs. He turns to face the house again and puts his hands in his pockets as he looks up at the facade. His eyes narrow as he considers it.

His gray hair is streaked with remnants of its former blond. If it wasn’t for the colour of his locks, you might not have guessed his age. He’s tall and his shoulders are broad. He’s built finely for any era.

Your mother leans forward again, “heh, lookie there,” she slurs.

She leers through the window as you stare blankly out. A new neighbour just means another person to complain about the lawn; or another person for your mother to complain about. The man pivots on his sole and pauses, his gaze set in your direction. You don’t think he can see you, not with how the sun reflects off the square panes. He stalls for just a moment before he turns complete, striding up towards the realtor.

You back up and retreat toward the kitchen. You mother hums as she continues to snoop through the window. The recliner squeaks beneath her as she shifts in the seat.

“Bit old for a family man,” she tuts.

#dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america

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rustedhearts · 11 months

Text

hurt (boxer!steve x librarian!fem reader)

summary: steve’s looking to blow off some steam after his first title fight loss, and you tend to him the best you know how.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the king of ring ♡

tags: make way for steve's ego!, smut, like...accidental size kink idk how that happened honestly, steve's not an official dom b/c we don't do that anymore around here but he's a dom, little bit of blood, more biting!!, bruising.

dallas, texas april 1991

"Goddamn it!"

The door to Steve's dressing room flung open, hurling toward the wall with a resounding bang. You flinched, slowly standing to your feet from your place on the leather couch. You were carted back stage by an assistant a few minutes ago, just as the arena, and all of America, saw the referee raise Steve's opponent's fist in victory—for the first time in his career.

Steve stomped into the room, beat red and dripping sweat. He was practically steaming. Your palms slicked as Big and Mikey trailed in behind him, prepared to do damage control.

"Harrington...it happens—"

"—to amateurs. To losers. Not to me," Steve snapped, voice booming and sharper than a sword. You jumped again when his gloves went flying into the wall.

He flattened his damp hair against his skull, fingers jumping and arms buzzing. You could see it brewing on his face—he was going to explode. His jaw clenched, his eyes darted around the room, he began to pace. Tick, tick, tick. It was only a matter of time before he'd burst.

"It's one loss, Steve," you piped up, stepping toward him to comfort. "It's really not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of—"

"Undefeated, Libby. Y' know what undefeated fuckin' means?"

You felt the strain of muscles in your face, how gravity pulled them downward. Big, hands on his hips and head cocked disapprovingly, glanced at you. It was getting easier to spot the cracks between the pair of you these days.

"Steve," you sighed, gathering his gloves from the floor to place them in his bag. "I'm just saying—"

"—I'm not supposed to fucking lose! And maybe I wouldn't 've, if you did your fuckin' research."

You craned to look over your shoulder, finding Steve's gaze on his coach. Steve had taken a step closer, now toe to toe with a man much larger than him. Big—graced with a name that, in all reality, didn't do the sheer size of him justice—fixed Steve with a steady, unimpressed stare. But the thing about Steve when he was angry? Truly angry, seething, seeing black.

He'd fight anyone just to feel release.

"Come on, man," Big huffed, head shaking.

You zipped up Steve's duffel, sinking down on the couch again to rub your temples. This was going to be a long night.

"He was a switch hitter. Woulda been a good thing to know...don't you think? Huh?" Steve sneered, looking up his nose at his coach.

Big held his hands up in surrender. "These things happen, Harrington—"

"Not. To. Me."

The room fell to a ringing silence. Mikey lingered near the door, anxiously petting his mustache. The paparazzi were waiting, huddled at the end of the tunnel for a snap of Steve, 'The King of the Ring' Harrington's first loss. He had a post-fight conference in forty minutes. The endorsement representatives would be coming by to offer their pitiful condolences that you knew would only enrage him.

"They don't fuckin' happen to me," Steve growled, pounding at his glistening, heaving chest with a gauze-wrapped fist.

Big just shrugged, watching Steve turn to stomp your way. You stood, reaching for his arms. All you wanted was to comfort him, soothe him, bring him back to that grumpy but agreeable Steve you all knew. You'd never seen him like this—because he'd never been like this. He'd never lost.

Big inched forward on one foot, but when Steve was merely stiff and silent in your gentle, stroking touch, the coach backed away toward the door. He was always a little cautious after the incident in New York last year. He didn't like the way Steve grabbed you, and he didn't like the way he kept doing it ever since.

Mikey opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish, searching for something to say but too afraid to muster it into words. Steve looked murderous. His huffing and puffing was so loud you worried he'd start to hyperventilate.

"Try to cool it before the cameras start, would you?" Big opened the door, turning to direct a pointed look Steve's way.

Steve, facing you but glaring over your head at the wall, turned sharply toward his coach. "Fuck you."

The door muffled Big's sigh, and you parroted the sound as Mikey disappeared behind him and Steve immediately ripped away from you. Your hands fell to your sides limply, chest squeezing tight.

"Steve—"

"—m' showering."

You took a small step after him toward the showers. "But—"

He stomped off, sneakers slapping on the damp tile. He disappeared around the corner, and you deflated in the center of the dressing room with a frown. When the stream of water hissed, you sank back down on the couch and waited, eyes aching and head pounding, a sour taste like acid in your mouth.

♡ ♡

Steve skipped the press conference. The press would call him a sore loser, his opponent would look like a gracious, genuine fighter, and his endorsements would call Mikey berating and scolding him for his client's actions.

But Steve didn't care. He couldn't face a crowd of reporters and paparazzi as a loser. A failure. He'd face them as a winner, or nothing at all.

They called him The King. His crown was starting to fall. You just wished he could step down from the throne every once in a while.

On the ride home, you reached for his hand and flinched when he flicked yours back into your lap. You searched for his eyes but met only the side of his face. Those hard cheekbones, purpled and blued; that swollen brow bone, torn at the corner and weeping red. His lip was fat and he kept running his tongue over the slit in the righthand corner. You knew he was reveling in the sting, bathing in the pain. He needed it when his fists started shaking like this.

Yet despite the visceral fury physically steaming off him, he was eerily...calm. Calm for Steve, calm for a man with a head as a hot as hell itself.

When Steve was silent like this, you knew a nightmare was brewing.

The car pulled in front of the hotel doors, and Steve yanked your door open with such monstrous force that you worried it would come right off the hinges. Some men had a Midas touch. Steve's was Herculean.

He was silent in the elevator, huffing only short, sharp breaths through his nose. He was silent through the hall, stomping with long, bounding strides. He was silent when he slammed the hotel door after you and tossed his duffel on the velvet chaise lounge near the bar. He was silent as he eased back against the black marble and crossed his arms.

You slowly slipped off your heels, hooking your fingers in the straps to bring them toward your luggage in the other room. You eyed him carefully as you passed him, breezing by in a whiff of sweet, citrusy perfume. The diamonds in your ears flashed his eye with a streak of white, catching the lamplight on the end table.

You were nearly to your destination when his gruff voice cut through the tender quiet.

"C'mere."

You paused, surprised just by the sound of his voice. You turned halfway, digesting his demand. Stern, rigid, empty. It mirrored his expression: emotionless. Your heels dangled near your thigh, fingers curling tighter around the straps.

Steve lifted his chin, eyes rolling away from the floor to fix steady on you. They held that heavy-hooded look you were always wary of. He had his fists tucked under his biceps, enlarging the bulging muscles, protruding the overworked veins. The thin black cotton stretched across his body strained.

Your cheeks flamed and your insides wriggled about the same way they do when he whispers in your ear. You stepped your legs a little closer to each other, tightening between your thighs.

"Steve, I—"

"—come. here."

You held his gaze, face half shadowed by the dark side of the room, brightened by the gentle lamplight on the other. His chest rose and fell steadily, and yours struggled with every inhale. He didn't twitch an inch, didn't move a muscle. The solidity to his steadiness always unnerved you. Right now, it made you want to take a bite of his bicep, where the skin was warm and firm and you knew it would taste like salty sweat.

Right now, the way he was staring at you like you had no other choice but to come to him—like he knew you would listen to him because he had such a deep, clawing, biblically powerful hold over you—made you want to devour him.

You dropped your heels on the carpet, where they landed with a muffled thud. You took small, breezy steps toward him. You felt like you were gliding. You felt so much smaller than you were, so minuscule and tiny under his pinning stare. You felt like he could cup you into his hands and crush you, and something about that thought made you tingle.

You came to a stop when your toes brushed his boots, sweaty sneakers discarded in his gym bag. Palms sticky at your sides, fingers grasping for the hem of your black dress, you tipped your head back to meet his gaze when he slipped one hand from under his arm and tucked it under your chin. Propped between his index and thumb, you let him tug you closer—urge you with just the gentlest of pressure. Your stomach pressed against his belt, and the way his head tipped to gaze down at you made your breath hitch.

Still resting against the marble, Steve seemed cool and eased as he bent to meet your mouth. You trembled on the tops of your toes, too impatient to wait for him to meet you, too desperate to find his lips and taste them. He'd never tell you, but he found it sweet, how mindlessly eager you got for even the smallest of his affections.

Your eyes sank closed when your mouths touched. Gently at first, but with an inch from Steve, his mouth molded against yours with a firmness most like his usual affections. A firmness unyielding, leaving no room for breath and no space for escape. But you were happily pliant to his hand spreading to hold your jaw in his wide palm, nearly sighing in relief when he finally switched from impassively cool to the Steve you knew:

Forceful. Mean. Rough.

His tongue swept your bottom lip like the tickle of a feather, though your giggle became a strangled whimper when his spare hand came to gather the hair at the nape of your neck. Free from confines and soft from hotel shampoo, it was a welcome feeling in his palm, and like he couldn't stop himself from reaching for more of it, he yanked. Fist curled tight against your scalp at the back of your head near your neck, he tugged just once—hard.

You popped away from his mouth with a wet smack and a scratchy whine, catching flashes of striped wallpaper before his mouth attached to your neck and sent you flying into blurriness. You held onto him for dear life, hands leaving splotchy white marks on his biceps. And just as you suspected: they were hot and soft, stiff and massive.

He latched onto the column of your throat with a suction like a vacuum, and you caught glimmers of starlight as he lapped and nipped. His teeth scraped the wet mark when he pulled away, and your body gave a convulsing shiver that, this time, made him exhale a chuckle against your skin. His nose slid through the slick spit, gliding across your throat and up your chin, brushing your cheek when he met your mouth again. His hand returned to your jaw to squeeze, the other still firmly planted in your hair. Your scalp began to buzz in a way that felt like a dead tingle.

The kiss was delicate this time. Careful, precise, like he was worried he'd break you. But Steve never worried about breaking you. He liked you that way. He loved how much you needed him to make sense of you.

Steve slowly pulled back, waiting until your eyes fluttered open and blinked at him with slow, breathless beats before rubbing the pad of his thumb over your swollen mouth. His own seemed a little larger, and as he tipped his head toward the light, you realized his lip had split open again with the force of his kiss. Your tongue immediately sought the remnants on your mouth, relieved to locate the metallic taste just past your bottom lip on your chin.

Steve's lip twitched at that.

"On the bed, baby." His voice was so soft that you were sure you'd fabricated it.

But then he let go of your hair and dropped his hands to his sides, and before he could blink in that expectant, impatient way, you spun around and hurried toward the bed. You were on your knees and about to reach for your zipper when Steve caught your wrists. It was the smack of skin on skin that made you freeze, catching his eye to find it empty again.

"Ah-ah," he scolded gruffly. "Hands down. I'll do it."

He released you and you obeyed, lowering your hands to your sides. Steve inched closer, and your head met his chest as he curled over the front of you to find the back. You inhaled quietly, searching for his scent. Muddled soap and heavy sweat, a cigarette smoked in the lot on the way to the cab. You brought your hands to his stomach and slipped them under his skirt, sweeping them across his muscular sides. He twitched, chuckling deeply despite himself against your neck. Your zipper snicked as it escaped your spine and fell to your tailbone, and your dress pooled in your lap as Steve stood tall again.

You tipped your head back to gaze at him, cheeks swollen with heat and lip caught between your teeth. Your hands were still under his shirt, still gripping him like a toy. He gave you it, pulling his shirt over his head with a tug of the back collar. It flew across the room in a dash of black fabric, and then you were gazing at his lean-cut muscles peppered with black and blue and a few fading greens. His stomach flexed when you brought your fingers to circle the nearest bruise, a grunt balling in his throat.

You returned both hands to his sides, right above his belt. Leaning forward on your knees, you pressed your mouth to the warm patch of skin where blood pooled and painted him colorful. You puckered a gentle kiss. Steve swallowed, jeans tightening. Mouth still pressed against him, you lifted your eyes to gauge his expression and he felt like he could burst.

His hands slid into your hair, pushing your head back with a grip on both sides. You rubbed your thumbs into his muscles, massaging the strain.

"Does it hurt?"

He eased his grip on the right side of your face and brushed your hair behind your ear. He stroked your cheek with the back of his knuckles, head cocking toward his shoulder. The scabs of a bare-knuckle practice scratched the skin on your face in the nicest way. He still smelled like blood.

"I like it to," he said.

You pushed off on your heels, nose brushing his chin as you inched closer to his height. He slid your hair over your shoulder to bare your neck, placing the breeze of his knuckles there.

"Me too."

Steve's eyes snapped away from your neck toward your own, a brief flash of surprise seeping through the brutish void. When you gnawed on your lip and danced your fingers over the firm leather of his belt, he let the surprise slip away as swiftly as it came.

In its place came the animalistic need to tear you apart.

He pushed your hands away without a word, and you sank back down to your heels on the mattress, watching with round, welled up eyes as he undid his belt. The buckle clinked and hung loose at his pelvis. The zipper snicked. The denim of his jeans whooshed down his legs. In only his boxers, tight against him and leaving nothing to the imagination, he resumed his hold on your face to direct your attention back to his eyes.

He pulled at the sleeve of your dress hanging limply in your lap. "Off."

You made quick work of discarding the fabric, sliding it down your legs and throwing it away. Steve snapped your bra strap next, and you bent your arms behind your back to unhook the band. All he had to do was flicker his eyes toward your panties for you to remove those, too.

When you were naked, you waited a beat. A moment of such palpable silence that you were certain he'd hear your heart beating. With the way your blood started rushing to your ears, pumping with such forceful gushes and thumps, you could barely hear anything over it yourself.

Then you reached for his bulge, aching and waiting, unable to contain yourself. Once more he grabbed your wrist, holding your touch away from him. You reached with the other hand, happy to play his game. He grabbed that one, too, and soon he had you right where he wanted.

Though, not quite.

He slammed you against the mattress on your back. Pinned by his hold on your arms, flattened by his weight pressing down on you. Your heart moved to your throat, throbbing wildly. Your legs instinctually parted to make room for him between them.

Steve searched between your eyes, bouncing between left and right, inhaling your every exhale. When he saw nothing but bliss, he slid your arms above your head and crossed your wrists together. Gripping them in one big palm, he used the other hand to mark a path down your side that had you squirming and shivering. You giggled when he circled your navel, only to gasp when he swept two fingers down your pelvis.

He knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew every route to take. He knew the shortcuts that would bring you to your fastest peak. He knew the long, winding paths that would make you whine and cry and beg him to cut you a break.

He knew you.

Just like you knew him, and how much he needed to be the biggest in the room. How much he needed this power over you, this control over you. Sometimes, he traveled too far. Sometimes, your favorite thing in the world was when he took over the wheel.

You wanted his control. You needed it.

Steve gently guided the tips of those two fingers between your legs, pushing just gently past the warm, squishy barrier. You sucked him in, mouth unhinging with another gasp when he sank the length of his fingers in entirely. The grip you had on him was tight, and your thighs were already shaking when he brought his thumb to your clit, beating and pulsing with want for his attention.

"You like it to hurt," he whispered, eyes sliding briefly toward your bare chest before your eyes again.

You bobbed your head, face so hot it hurt. "Yes."

"Do you want it to hurt, angel?"

"Please."

Steve didn't let you wait, and for this you were grateful. His hair tickled your cheek, his breath fanned your neck, and then his mouth was clamping onto the patch of tender muscle between your shoulder and neck. His teeth sank in, delivering a dull sting that made you shriek. He pulled away when you began to pant.

He moved his mouth to your breast, fingers loosening around your wrists. He sank into the squishy fat, gathering a chunk of it between his teeth. It stung a little sharper, hurt a little better. You cried out this time, and he pumped his fingers in a gentle push and pull as he moved to the other breast. You could barely suck in a breath.

Wet patches caught gusts of cool air as he maneuvered over your body, covering you in his mouth and leaving you with his teethmarks to prove it. He released your wrists, but your head was so fuzzy and full of air that you didn't even think to move them. Steve wanted them there. You wanted what Steve wanted.

Steve clamped down on your waist, following the valley of your curves. You jerked the other way, body instinctually recoiling. He bit into your hip, then your thigh, then your stomach, then the thin skin just above your pelvis. He had you covered in him and writhing for more, cheeks soaked with tears he was certain you didn't even know were shed.

Face pinched and pooling with red-hot heat, you gasped for air and arched off the bed. Steve's fingers worked deeper between your legs. His thumb rubbed with the firmest pressure in just the right spot. You stomped your feet against the mattress and whined, long and howling.

"Steeeeve."

It burned, he could tell. He could tell by the way you trembled and closed your legs around his hands. He could tell by the way you blinked tears to the ceiling, how you balled your hands into fists—still above your head. You couldn't hold steady and you looked close to nausea.

Steve settled on his knees between your legs, free hand smoothing over your wobbling thigh. He loomed over you with an empty expression, taking in your bare body and his mouth branding nearly every inch of it.

Just as you lifted your back again, hands flying down to grip the mattress in preparation for the orgasm winding a knot behind your navel, Steve ripped his fingers away. You cried—a pitiful, pathetic, snot-filled sob that sliced through the room and made Steve huff.

But Steve had mercy on you. He replaced his fingers with something better, and your cry dwindled to short sniffles as the head of his cock breached your throbbing entrance. He slid your thighs over his, pulled you down until you were forcing half of him in. You howled again, head tipping back, hands reaching for his. You found them on your waist, gripping in a vice.

With slow and steady caution, Steve eased between your legs and mounted over you once more. He propped himself on his forearms, caged on either side of your shoulders to squish your arms against your sides. There was nowhere for you to run. You were inching close to orgasm again already just at the thought.

Steve cupped his palm over the crown of your head and leaned in until his nose brushed your own. His thumb pressed against your forehead, his breath tickled your open, shining mouth. You could see the blood gathering on his lip again. It wobbled there, at the split seam of soft tissue. It glistened and, in your foggy, fucked-out mind: it called to you.

You swept it up with your tongue, sucking with a gentle pull that made Steve's seem cruel. But even that delicate, meek suction had him groaning, had him bucking into you wildly. You released him and he followed the metallic scent of your breath, thanking you for his brief sting with a nip on your bottom lip.

'Hurt me, so I can hurt you.'

And squished under him, taking every assault of teeth and lapping up the blood, you found something in pain you never knew was possible: peace.

A simple, mindless transaction. I hurt you, you hurt me. This is how we say I love you.

Hurt me. So I can hurt you.

Steve pressed your heads together, rutting into you so deep you almost thought you could feel him in your throat. But maybe that was just more tears, pooling and lumping until you couldn't swallow past it. So you released it, weeping in a way that had Steve kissing your hot, sticky cheeks just to ease the hysteria. But he wanted those tears, and he basked in how they tasted on his mouth.

In one final effort, one last turn toward his destination, Steve reared back just enough to bring his hand down on your ass, thigh hitched over his hip to bare it to him. It slammed down with a sharp clap, delivering a sting that spread like wildfire and reverberated through your thighs and spine.

It was exactly what you needed to shatter. It sent you stumbling, clinging to Steve like you'd fall apart without him holding you steady. You weren't entirely sure that was false. You whimpered into his neck, fingers buzzing against his back. You sounded so pathetic, sniffling and hiccuping like that. Steve kissed your jaw and caught a glimpse of the blotchy bruise he left on your neck. You'd be stuck with it for days.

Steve spilled into you, raw and warm, sticky and disgusting. He brushed his nose against your bruise and felt it throb. He ran his thumb over the red shape of his mouth on your hip as he slipped from between your legs. He brushed his hair back against his head and licked the blood from his split lip. His knuckles had broken open and stained the white sheets near your head.

On sore thighs and wobbling knees, Steve settled between your limp legs once more and gazed down at the mess he made. He brushed your hair from your eyes and cradled your cheek. Still catching your breath, you leaned into his hold with heady exhaustion, placing your hand over his. You'd be just as bruised as Steve tomorrow morning, and you'd marvel in the mirror at the pretty colors he painted you with.

And the best thing about it? Steve wasn't hurting anymore. He gave it all to you.

♡ ♡

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buckets-and-trees · 4 months

Text

Warm Shadows - Carving Through the Dark (3/4)

Fandom: MCU Collection: Warm Shadows [ part one | part two ] Title: Carving Through the Dark Characters/Pairings: established Alpha!Bucky x f!Omega!Reader, Alpha!Steve x f!Omega!Reader Word Count: 14.4k

Summary: Worse than a nightmare because it's real, Bucky has to track down his kidnapped omega and the man - the super soldier - who had been his closest friend turned into the dark, rival alpha, Captain Hydra.

Content Warnings: DARK, a/b/o dynamics, angst, explicit smut, vaginal intercourse, consensual forced orgasm

Logistical Notes: Shhh - yes this was the final story update I had planned for the Dark Forest Fest and it's the first week of January! But. Well. The word count. But we're here now, okay? Title taken from Hozier's Who We Are.

Additional Notes: Okay, I know that I did a poll asking last month if folks wanted the final chapter split into two parts or just one long chapter and - er - I kind of did both. I did not split this chapter, but a couple of days ago I realized we needed a fourth and final part. Lastly, @biteofcherry has been an absolute lifeline during the composition of this chapter - thank you for putting up with my conjectures and letting me piece together some of the elements. And even a little thank you to @rookthorne for cheering and bullying me over how long this got.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“I can’t help you,” Shuri states, though there’s the flicker of it almost being one final question of it in her eyes.

“No,” Bucky confirms. “No more than you already have.”

He knows she says it as one last opportunity for him to change his mind, but also in acknowledgment that he must do this on his own. They clasp hands and then he turns to walk up the ramp of the aircraft.

“James,” she says when he’s nearly gone. He turns back to look at his friend, one who has seen him at the best and worst of times. “Whoever he is now, he knows Bucky, he knows the Winter Soldier, he will have learned everything about the Soldat from their archives, so you must truly be the White Wolf. She knows the wolf, but he does not.”

He nods and then walks further into the aircraft, leaving Shuri behind.

After you’d been violated and taken from him, Bucky had lain in anguish until just before dawn, raging over the loss of his world and everything he’d worked for, built, found, cherished. He would find you again – when he’d sworn, “There’s no corner of this earth you can go where I won’t find you,” it had been a promise to you as much as a warning to the monster – but none of you three were the same after that night.

To be the White Wolf…

It will take all the tactics he learned in the army, that he was forced to acquire as Hydra’s finest assassin, and since he escaped and then truly reclaimed his freedom. As angry as he is, as desolate as he feels, he holds the emotions at arms’ length, he needs to be at the eye of the hurricane so he can maneuver the way he needs to.

Bucky hasn’t been able to feel you. His desperate hope is that it’s because you’re sedated and unconscious and not … not anything else.

In Wakanda he and Shuri hadn’t been able to find even a sliver of a trace of the jet that had come and gone for Steve to enact his plan. It was a statement that whoever he was now, Captain Hydra was utilizing every ounce of knowledge Steve had and blending it with whatever Hydra hat put in him.

Bucky won’t leave a trail either.

It will take Steve time to figure out how Bucky left Wakanda – on foot, ground transport, or air transport – if he can figure it out. But Bucky was the untraceable ghost over fifty years of missions for Hydra, and he didn’t have the motivation he does now.

Bucky devised that going on the already-scheduled aircraft to the Wakandan Outreach Center in Oakland gave him the best options. He assumes Steve would have managed to get into the networks used by the Avengers and SWORD, and since he flew an aircraft in and out of Wakanda undetected and Bucky won’t be able to use Wakandan technology to best him either, so landing in Oakland also puts him in proximity to the hardware, software, and network resources he would need to build his own tech. During his convalescence in Wakanda before the Infinity War, it had been days of goats and technology research and development in the most advanced science facility in the world. He is not the expert that Shuri is, but he knows enough. His aversion to much of “modern” technology has always been due to how primitive it was compared to anything from Wakanda.

It takes weeks, but Bucky acquires the hardware he needs, modifies software, creates the network and protocols he needs to start Hydra hunting, and puts it all to work. He knows what to look for – the patterns, the seemingly innocuous inconsistencies – and he knows it because he was running data point for the team of analysts dedicated to Hydra hunting before this. He had taken more responsibility at the base of operations and fewer and fewer field assignments to be home and build his life with you.

Bucky doesn’t hesitate in ignoring any ethical limits whatsoever for his surveillance protocols. When he was working within the system, they had established some lines they weren’t willing to cross.

With seven billion humans in existence and him alone looking for two, lines to cross no longer exist.

He knows he will never get his life back, but he will not let anything prevent him from getting you back.

He puts every piece into play immediately as he builds, sleeps only the bare minimum. Truthfully he had only indulged in more than the minimal sleep a super soldier needed these past years because it was time spent blissfully with you. Without a reason to rest, he didn’t have any problem cutting back to short sleep allotments to keep him operating at peak condition.

In putting his own tap into the Avengers’ database, he studies the work that had gone on while he was gone for his annual retreat away with you. He discovers that Steve and Sam followed leads in Europe.

“Damn you idiots,” he murmurs.

The reports show his two friends go dark after losing comms nearly a month ago. A team went in after them and their debrief says they found only their communication devices. ‘Search ongoing…’

That was a month ago.

He knows the status of Steve.

Sam could be a live asset in play, an asset still being trained and molded by Hydra, their prisoner for torture, or he could have been eliminated already.

It takes him sixteen days from the beginning of his build to finish – he’d been collecting intelligence, but once everything is in play and he continues to hone in on incoming results, things progress systematically, satisfyingly, in a foreign familiarity that evokes memories of this time hunting as the Winter Soldier.

Two more days and he’s got enough evidence in the intelligence to confirm you’re somewhere in Europe. Within two hours Bucky recalibrates calculations based the new findings, conducts new searches, gets confirmation of a face on a traffic camera in Gdańsk that looks like Steve, and when he’s able to piece a clear trail that follows him through the city and then to an aircraft that he’s further able to track until it disappears over northern Italy. He knows this for what it is – a trail tempting him closer to the trap. A challenge, an invitation, but only if he can put together more pieces to find you. How many times did he set beautifully complex traps for some of his prize targets when he was the Winter Soldier? Breadcrumbs to entice, to drive his opponent to work harder, to put their prowess to work, to make them feel confident so he could trick, trap, and kill them in the end.

This monster of a man tricked him in Wakanda. It will be the only time. Expert and intricate traps of this sort are something his opponent has been playing with for a few weeks. Bucky has more practice and expertise, infinitely more motivation, and no distractions.

He travels under cover of transports between Wakandan outreach centers from Oakland to Washington DC, and then from Washington to Bilbao. When he touches down in Bilbao, his information relay device has a new lead based off a visual of Steve in a bookshop in Turin twice in the previous week.

He takes the train to Turin. Within twelve hours he finds the location of the Hydra facility, and Bucky makes enough noise to reveal to Hydra that he’s in the city and trigger the personnel to raise the facility to its red alert security status. He plants a false trail indicating that he’s given up and gone further north, all the while watching every aspect of the base, making plans to infiltrate, and ensuring sure none of the vehicles or teams moving in and out look like they’re transporting you somewhere else. They drop to an orange threat level, and then yellow – standard caution and operating procedures.

Bucky would have been floored that they believed he’d missed them in Turin and moved on to search somewhere else, but it spoke to one of the weaknesses of Hydra’s organization: the arrogance. Instead, Bucky hacks into their base network as well as their external communications channels.

This observation, research, recon, and analysis Bucky does not rush. Everything he cares about is at stake. If he’s going to be successful in getting you back there can be no room for error as he’ll be up against Hydra and the only other super soldier on the planet who could potentially match or outmatch him.

And as the weeks wear on, the other thing he cannot deny, that he’d known from the beginning of this nightmare even if he’d wanted to try to ignore it, it that he isn't in this to rescue only you.

When all is said and done, the reality is he has to get Steve back, too.

Bucky knows the longer it takes, the more dangerously close he gets to your next heat. He knows an omega being in a distressed environment will affect the heat cycle. It could bring it on early, or potentially also push you to the extremes of a dry heat depending on the conditions they are keeping you in, and how you’re feeling. Once he determines he knows enough to start putting together a plan of extraction, he also determines it’s too close to when your heat might hit, and he can’t risk trying to extract you if you’re in heat – it becomes an element he can’t predict and ensure that his plan will still be successful.

His own senses are strained with the tenor of your unease in a way that’s different from before. It’s driving his alpha side mad, and he wants to storm the facility and reclaim you, and that’s one more element contributing to the volatility of the situation. He knows he can’t gamble on so many unpredictable elements.

He must wait.

But when he sees Captain Hydra leave in his jet right when Bucky is certain you are close to your heat, Bucky is stunned.

It might be too damn close to your heat, but clearly you’re not in heat yet or the other alpha would not leave you. This was not his plan, but it is a prime opportunity he can’t ignore – not if he can get to you alone and save you from a heat away from him. His heart can’t deny this unexpected opportunity.

After Bucky had hacked into the Hydra base’s network, he’d discovered that the small jet Captain Hydra had exclusive use of had been excluded from all navigational tracking and that the man only communicated by radio with one individual whenever he left. He’d further discovered that Captain Hydra was a weapon still cloaked from most of Hydra, with nothing about him other than his existence as a new asset available on the network. Even his former identity was not yet disclosed or recorded anywhere digitally.

This means Bucky has no idea where the man is going or when he will be back, but he hears Captain Hydra and his liaison discuss and confirm his time of arrival and his estimated time of return. Bucky must work quickly, but there is a window.

As he had not anticipated infiltrating so soon, he still has to finish putting things together for the actual extraction – like transportation, supplies, and thoroughly planning out three escape routes and destinations – and while he works quickly, he does not rush those final preparations, and so that takes him a significant amount of the window of time he knows he has.

But he only needs long enough to get you out.

He will have that.

He ambushes the delivery truck bringing in the week’s food shipment with no trouble and drives it right into the base as he has all the proper credentials on his person and its still pre-dawn hours, so lack of light works in his favor to get through the first gate.

But of course when he doesn’t follow delivery procedures once he rolls up to the shipping and receiving dock, that’s when his limited time really begins. The first decision he must make is whether or not to take out a man of average height but portly build that approaches the truck – one of the cooks, Bucky has studied the personnel files for everyone registered on this base – and Bucky evaluates as he steps out of the truck. He could kill him, but this man should probably be spared. Bucky doesn’t want unnecessary blood on his hands. So with lightning fast moves and a choke hold, the man goes down. But next are two security personnel, and them Bucky shoots point blank, taking each of them out with single shots. He leans down to lift the comms off one of them, putting the piece in his ear so he can hear everything as it unfolds across the base.

He yanks open the first door and moves down the hallway. And then there’s a frantic message over the comms, “Code Red! Winter Soldier, loading docks, two personnel down, in pursuit!”

Bucky growls and turns back down the hallway and swears when he sees the man putting comms in his ear and squaring up a gun he’d clearly lifted off one of the security guards was the cook he thought he’d put out cold. Apparently the man had more in him than Bucky had accounted for, and so now Bucky takes aim and shoots him once he’s close enough to secure the kill shot, only having to dodge two close but errant bullets himself as the cook had tried to run him down.

Lethal force for everyone it is, he thinks.

He’s irritated he wasted extra time on this man trying to keep down the body count.

He does not make that mistake again, killing everyone who comes across his path. The silver lining working in his favor is that this base in Turin is a science facility, not a military facility, so he has fewer muscle personnel to deal with than other places you could have been kept, and he can hear over the main comms that scientists and researchers are being given orders to shelter in place while there are instructions given over the security comms in Bucky’s ear that prime-level scientists are to be evacuated. It’s the directive he expected, which benefits him as the security personnel are split between pursuing him and evacuating those individuals deemed indispensable.

But dealing with those who are in pursuit of him is simple. When he’s out of ammunition, he makes quick work dealing what should be lethal wounds with his knives. Every man or woman down is one less he will need to contend with while trying to safely get you out, and while he’s reasonably sure he’s dealing death to everyone, there are a few he thinks may survive.

He has studied every aspect of this facility while making his preparations, and he sends a message to Captain Hydra that he was prepared by shooting glances cleanly into every camera he knows he passes.

There’s a flash of fear that ripples through him – it comes from the bond he’s tried to keep dormant between you since you were taken, but this is too powerful, and it’s a barb he can’t ignore. It flares and then dies out, which could be either a good thing or a bad thing. He squares his shoulders and moves more quickly.

As Bucky reaches the quadrant they’ve been keeping you a few moments later, the words, “The Omega is secured, sedated, and ascending to the roof with team Foxtrot, thirty seconds until air evac.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He knows he can’t make it in time, but Bucky still races down the hall to the stairwell, launching through the door and then hurtling up the stairs, taking them three and four at a time. His super speed isn’t enough to scale four flights of industrial facility stairs, and he bursts out on the roof to see the coaxial helicopter already twenty meters up in the air and navigating away to the north.

He wants to shout until his lungs bleed because he was so close, but he knows he can’t afford to indulge in emotions that strong in this moment. Instead, he takes huge gulps of the fresh air, pulls the door from its hinges, and hurls it across the roof before going back down the stairs.

He does not engage with anyone but comes across few through his retreat. Instead, his focus now is decimating what he can of the facility without wasting time or going out of his way as he escapes the base, rigging explosives quickly in key areas on his way out.

While he left destruction in his wake, and he leaves alone, he was precise in how much damage he dealt. He left the area of main logistical operations intact because he didn’t want to destroy their network and communications, eliminating his ties to tracking their next moves.

Bucky immerses himself in tracking and monitoring everything the second he’s back in his hideout with his tech. He sees the Captain return. He watches the final evacuations. They send him to Geneva, and Bucky is ready to follow, knowing exactly where the Swiss facility is located since he’s fully infiltrated the Hydra network of information. He can’t travel as quickly since he doesn’t have access to any Hydra aviation, but he makes it there by sundown.

He wouldn’t risk trying to disrupt your heat now, not with everyone moved and on high alert, it would be dangerous for you. Instead, he works on setting up his new undercover observation point in Switzerland. He fine tunes his information tap into the Hydra system. As he works, he notices the rise of an anxious feeling pulling at his hind brain. He’s felt the press of you trying to reach across the bond while you’ve been apart, but this is different – there’s a frantic, wild tug, and while it’s insistent, it’s more erratic, like the flickering of a flame, as if you aren’t even concentrating on the connection to him.

He knows so much of you that he knows you have to be on the brink of your heat but that you must desperately be trying to fight it. The discomfort he can sense continues to ebb and flow. It morphs. It becomes tinged with more discomfort. Then there’s a lick of desire that is almost imperceptible. That’s followed rather quickly be a flare of adrenaline – or is it fear? Another shift a few minutes later, and tone of this is pure arousal, the feeling he’s shared so much of with you, and the thought that you…

He grits his teeth, shuts his eyes, and abruptly stills every muscle in his body. You are his omega. Another alpha bonded you. Your heat is undeniable. His brain knows that – it’s one of the things he’s been focusing on, acknowledging the various scenarios that could play out for this heat, he just did not want this, nor was he prepared for what it might feel like. And so, with forced, measured breaths, he does everything he can to concentrate on shutting down the connection, to put his alpha side to sleep, because he can not bear this. He has suppressed so much of everything since losing you, only holding onto the faintest tether, but he cannot endure this – not and keep his rationality and do what he needs to do now, which is to formulate the next steps, the things he needs to figure out and watch for now that this cruel game has changed. Emotion will distract him, but there’s also the flow that could go the other way and throw you off, and he swore to keep you safe.

Diving into the network databases of this new Hydra facility, Bucky notices something he noticed in Turin: there are no records that contain any of your names on file – not you, not Steve, not Sam. He thought it was strange before, but he had a theory it could have been the nature of secrecy around all the projects at the research facility in Turin – there were very few data files on the science being explored on that base. But in transferring the Turin personnel out, with a contingent of them going to Geneva, he pours over all the documentation and the only he finds is the transfer of a high-level asset referred to only as Waffe SR4718. He easily knows the German word for weapon, and without missing a beat Bucky knows the letters and numbers are supposed to seem random but clearly refer to Steve Rogers whose birthdate is the fourth day of the seventh month in the eighteenth year of the previous century. It’s innocuous to anyone coming across it, but abundantly clear that it’s specific for those who were supposed to know.

With all Bucky knows of his own time with Hydra, how there were always layers within layers, secrets buried, hidden, withheld, he’s certain the acquisition of Steve and metamorphosis into Captain Hydra is as dark and as quiet as his own existence as the Winter Soldier.

There are quarters assigned to Waffe SR4718, and Bucky tags it track all status alerts – comings and goings, services, requests. He also puts the cameras for that hallway up on a constant feed monitoring protocol with the AI he’s adapted to bring up the imagery if there’s any movement in or out of the door.

Knowing you’re in heat, Bucky concentrates on new extraction tactics and mapping out escape options from this new facility.

But at three in the morning during the second night in Geneva – the second night of your heat – the door movement alert goes off, and Bucky immediately turns his attention to watch as Steve slowly emerges.

Why would he have any reason to leave you during your heat? He knows he could order food, clothing, bedding, medical personnel if absolutely necessary…

A quick check of the log shows that there have been no such requests.

And then he sees the unthinkable.

You’re right there behind him, following as he starts to make his way down the hall, dressed in darker clothing as he is. He has a small tactical pack slung across his back.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The question is only uttered out of frustration and disbelief because he could immediately decipher what is happening.

As precarious as it is to interfere with your heat, the two of you are clearly on the move.

The other alpha has no intention of staying at this base.

But why?

His mind begins deciphering even as he’s pulling up security cameras as the pair of you move through the facility, tracking your movements and actions.

The calculated risk is to get out when you’re supposed to be in heat. Bucky did see that status reported on the log – omega in heat. The protocols were to leave alpha and omega Hydra personnel undisturbed unless a priority one situation developed – typically reserved for life or death and rarely anything less urgent or pressing. It meant no one would think to check after the asset immediately. Even if an alpha skipped regular ordering for a meal or two to the living quarters, that wouldn’t be taken as out of the ordinary, merely unnecessary or forgotten due to being otherwise occupied, or deciding to make do with the food already with them.

The movement logically progresses toward the transportation hangar under the building – intending to employ ground transport.

On the way, the two of you duck into a room and close the door. Bucky accesses the schematics to discover it’s a data analytics workspace – cooperative computer sharing area. There weren’t any goons to hide from, so Bucky works quickly, trying to pull up the specific workstations in there. He sees the log in for a science officer. The user accesses the personnel transfer files for everyone from the Turin base submitted due to the evacuation. Four names are brought up on the roster and their locations are changed from Turin to the other the other bases anyone from Turin was reassigned to – a pair of them to Odessa, the other pair to Trondheim.

Subterfuge. He’s displacing security agents – or at least their location statuses.

Bucky frowns.

The rest of your course takes you directly to the vehicle hangar. Moving in the dead of night has capitalized on as few people as possible moving around the base for you to encounter, and it paid off. The other alpha selects a smaller SUV, loads some readily available weapons and supplies from the nearby vicinity into the back and then – faster than lightning – he withdraws something from a pocket near his chest, presses it over your mouth, and Bucky can see you seize up and then slump into his arms. He tucks you in amongst the supplies before throwing a canvas over everything and closing the hatchback.

Clearly you had been cooperating with this escape, so why was it necessary to knock you out?

Then he leaves the vehicle, leaves the hangar, goes back up two floors to the security personnel floor, and knocks on one of the doors.

Bucky accesses the database to see who’s assigned to that room as he watches this man converse briefly with whoever answers the door.

The two names assigned to the room match the two names reassigned to the Trondheim base on the evacuation transfer records.

“What larger game are you playing, Captain Hydra?” Bucky murmurs.

Because it’s back down to the hangar and the SUV with you stashed in the back, but then he waits.

And within five minutes, two men in full tactical gear get in the vehicle as well, and only then does he start up the car and leave. There’s a tracking device on this vehicle, so Bucky starts to pack up his tech, and pulls up the tracking on his smartphone.

He’s about to shut and pack away his laptop when he thinks of doing one more thing. It will take time, and this is why he knows Captain Hydra didn’t do it, but it will be worth it. But after his time in Wakandan labs and building up his own robust systems, within twenty-five minutes, Bucky has gone through the security camera system and successfully removed all footage of you and the captain moving throughout the base, rewriting it with the empty hallways from just before and after, effectively erasing the evidence of your escape. This will buy more time. No one may have thought to look for any movement in and out of Waffe SR4718’s quarters, but now they won’t find it when they ultimately go back and try, extending Bucky’s time to tail you without Hydra in the mix. They will assume the alpha and omega are still in heat seclusion now without any reason to doubt it.

Bucky leaves his temporary Geneva hideout with the essentials he arrived with. He chose this location because it was two streets down from one of the larger private car services in Switzerland. Bucky knows he can pass as a mechanic with his clothing, and the service staff works overnight to keep up maintenance for the large fleet of vehicles that provide VIP transportation, airport pick up and drop off, limousine transfers, corporate chauffeur services, ski transfers, and event chauffeuring. Acquiring a non-descript vehicle is as easy as he hoped, and it’s more than simple to de-activate this car’s GPS tracking system.

Within half an hour, he’s comfortably in pursuit. The vehicle he’s tracking has maintained its course and is an hour out of the city now, but an hour ahead is reasonable.

When the Hydra vehicle is three hours outside of Geneva, it makes its first stop. Bucky presses a button on his phone to pin the location. The stop is for less than five minutes, and then it continues, but Bucky will stop there as well to assess the purpose and glean any information he can.

Bucky is an assertive driver, making up speed, but not at a point to draw attention. When he reaches the pin he’d set on the route for the stop your vehicle had made, it’s on a bridge.

There’s only one reason Bucky can think of to stop on a bridge.

A reason that could make Bucky’s heart stop with devastation, but he must continue to operate under the assumption it wasn’t your body dumped into the river. Anything else wouldn’t make sense.

Unless the other alpha has become completely unhinged and all of this is an elaborate game to drive Bucky beyond all limitations of his own reason.

Within the next two hours, he sees you pass the border into Germany, and then another stop is registered on the GPS tracking near the city of Albstadt. Bucky has made up a significant amount of the head start the other alpha had had. When he arrives in Albstadt, he finds the SUV. It is most likely that this vehicle had been abandoned for another, but Bucky has to stop at this point and tap into security feeds for the city to see whether you’re here or not. He picks a spot that advertises wifi with their sandwiches, refueling his body while setting up his tech in a spot most won’t question him to hunker down for some serious work on a laptop. He gets into the city’s street cameras, sees Steve steal another vehicle, pulls the license plate, and then he programs his algorithm to watch for the number to track the route now. He won’t be able to smoothly follow the route of a GPS-tracked vehicle anymore, but Bucky knew this would grow more difficult. As long as his goal was to draw out the Soldat, Captain Hydra will still leave a trail of breadcrumbs, but it will be scant if he’s trying to evade Hydra.

While Bucky has questions of intent, he has no question that it’s what the Captain is doing now.

Bucky is able to pick up the trail with license plate tracking and route mapping into Stuttgart. All the way to the train station. But this is where the other alpha shows incredible skills for blending in. It’s a busy station. Bucky will have to run thorough security camera assessments of the Stuttgart station, figure out when – or if – they got on a train, and then continue tracking from there. If the alpha and omega got on a train, Bucky can at least narrow his search to that route and its stops for that schedule, but Bucky used train stations to cover his tracks as well, and sometimes that involved never boarding the train but leading anyone tracking him to believe that he had.

With that much information, he writes new coding into his overall system, sends it back to the larger machine he left in Oakland to do the heavy computing so it can start the work he’ll need to fine tune once he can settle in a more permanent stopover, pays for his meal, and then drives to Stuttgart. The hacking into facial recognition has been so enhanced beyond boundaries though – especially because he can tailor it to look for only two faces he knows as well as his own – that he sees the two of your board a train headed west, targets the route, sets up the watch parameters for the schedule, and catches you getting off in Paris.

Another smart move blending into the vibrancy of a large city, but Bucky is sure it’s not the final destination either. But Steve knew enough French to blend into the country, as well.

It takes Bucky and his systems six more days, but he confirms three separate facial recognitions for the other alpha in a town outside of Bordeaux small enough to be off the beaten path but big enough to blend in and go unnoticed by its people.

Bucky travels there as quietly as possible. He does not want to tip his hand. He’s too close now to have you slip through his hands again.

After two more days and with the assistance of satellite imaging, he has found the small house in a forested area outside of the town.

Bucky grips the edge of the small desk he’s been working at, grounding himself. Adrenaline had immediately surged through his veins, but he must keep everything contained. He has practiced so much control and restraint that if his heart betrays him now, he’ll carve it out himself and leave it behind. He cannot compromise this delicate situation.

He drives out to the area and leaves his vehicle well-hidden a kilometer out from the house and approaches on foot, circling at a large perimeter and slowly moving further in, cautiously, taking in everything. He doesn’t want to trip anything the other alpha may have set up to alert him to intruders.

What he discovers is minimal, and all old tactical elements – things they’d done as

Cap and the Howling Commandos back in the old war.

Effectively things that would have worked on anyone from this day and age but that only Bucky would know to look for.

He doesn’t trust it.

This is another trap.

But he has to walk into it and fare as best he can.

That’s what Captain Hydra had said was his plan from the beginning – draw out the Soldat.

The White Wolf would enter the trap but would need to control it and come out on the other side with his omega.

He can’t even think those words without his pulse racing now, and he digs his vibranium fingers into the trunk of the tree under his hand, splintering the wood while he closes his eyes and stamps down everything that wants him to sprint to the house he can see, break down the door, and launch himself into your arms.

He timed his approach when he’d seen the other alpha leave – likely for more food and supplies – but he knew the time alone would be limited.

Bucky takes measured but determined steps to the green wooden front door of what’s essentially a little cottage.

Straining his ears and focusing on his enhanced hearing, he doesn’t pick up anything beyond ambient noises – and your soft, slow breathing.

He takes a deep breath, slowly twists the doorknob, and opens the door.

There you are, curled up in a cozy armchair, dozing, hand pressed up against the spine of a book that has fallen to your chest after you clearly fell asleep reading, and this.

This simple scene nearly knocks him to his knees.

The way you’re there, feet away from him, it’s the most beautiful sight of his entire life.

But still, he is quiet, cautious.

His entire chest aches for you.

He shuts the door softly behind him, then crosses the small living room and kneels next to you. He eases the book out of your hands and puts it on the small side table. He’s done this before so many times. You make a slight hum through your sleep.

Brushing his fingers over your cheek is almost enough to make the nightmare of the last six weeks vanish as if it really had only been a nightmare.

He almost doesn’t dare to breathe.

But the warmth of his hand against your skin evidently reaches in to stir something in your subconscious, because you shift slightly, sigh, and tilt your head into his touch and murmur, “Bucky…”

The stutter of his chest is both painful and euphoric at once, and everything wells up in his chest, everything he’s been holding back.

He drops his hand from your cheek to your shoulder, gently trying to nudge you awake.

Coming back into consciousness, you take in a deep breath before blinking your eyes open. Your gaze drifts to him, and then your body seizes up one moment, and the next you’re scrambling up and away from him, whipping over the back of the armchair you’d been curled up in.

“Bucky?” your voice comes out in a wounded whimper of a tone that pierces him, confounds him.

“Yes, it’s me,” he answers, brow furrowing. He hadn’t allowed himself to think over what this moment was going to be like – he knew the fixation would have been too painful to hope over – but it was not supposed to be this, with you looking at him with caution, with hesitancy, with your guard up.

“Omega?” he questions tentatively, rising from where he’d been crouched on the floor.

You don’t move your position, but you draw yourself up to your full height as well.

Bucky maneuvers around the furniture, wanting to remove the barrier between you, but he changes his position slowly, allowing you time to retreat if you feel compelled to. You hold your ground but do keep yourself squared off facing him as he moves. He does what he hasn’t done since this ordeal began and definitively opens up the gateway of the bond between you, tentatively reaching out, trying to read you.

Your mood is hard, and it doesn’t fluctuate. There’s a steady mix of fear, doubt, and what he thinks is exasperation there.

No, it’s more than that.

“You’re angry with me?”

“I’m more than angry with you!” you hurl the words at him and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m livid.”

“I came to you as fast as I could!” He steps closer, and now you step back. He moves closer again, but with a smaller step.

“It’s not that, I know you worked as hard as you could–“

“Then what else could you possibly be upset about, Omega?” His tone is desperate, earnestly seeking the answer, but also tinged with a warning he can’t help from bleeding into the question.

“I couldn’t feel you.” The anger gives way to let the anguish of your words bleed through, and they sweep over both of you. “You cut yourself off from me. I was desolate and scared and alone, and you withdrew any hint of our connection.”

He steps forward once more, finally close enough to reach for you, and as he continues to close the distance, you unfold one of your arms and backhand slap him. “I needed you!”

Bucky staggers a step back from the raw force you hurled at him, but it only takes him the space of a breath for him to recover enough, and he surges forward and pulls you into his arms, uttering your name the way one pleads in a fraught prayer. You try and push against his chest and squirm out of his arms, but he only secures you more firmly, holding you dearly and desperately to him.

“I needed you,” you sob out. Instead of continuing to try to struggle away from him, to hold your hurt at bay, he feels you stop fighting and the turn as you let everything out. He holds you, soothing you, but not trying to quell any of this yet. He knows everything you’re feeling is warranted, can feel now that you held back as much as he did while you were apart. Endured as much hurt as he did – more in many ways. He won’t tell you to settle down, because the hurt needs to be acknowledged and not minimized.

Once your chest is no longer wracked with sobs, when your crying has abated from steady streams of tears to the small sniffling, he gently wipes the tears from your cheeks. Then Bucky decisively nuzzles his face down into the crook of your neck. Slowly, tentatively, he presses his lips to the place he claimed and bonded you as his omega, his mate. You whimper, but your hands clutch at his shirt, and the immediate flood of relief, of love, of devotion, washes over you both. He can feel it, he knows you feel it.

His large hands are planted firmly on your back, one at the curve of your spine, and one between your shoulder blades, pressing you as close together as he possibly can. He plants a longer, more concentrated kiss to the mark, and your right hand slides up to thread your fingers into his hair and press him closer.

The more he kisses into your neck, the more whole he feels. He had ignored the hollow, empty feeling in his chest, had truly rejected all feeling, as cold and empty as he’d operated while being the Winter Soldier. He’s feeling human again. Himself again – or at least it’s all coming back to him now.

He doesn’t even realize when your body has fully melted into him, too caught up in the mending of the connection, but then you’re urging his face up away from your neck, but only so you can press your forehead to his, and you say, “I need you, Bucky.”

He nods, and then you kiss him. In a movement familiar to you both, his hand moves down, curving over your ass and to the back of your thigh, and he picks you up. Your legs wrap around him as you deepen the kiss, nipping at his lips. He carries you across the big open space to where there’s a bed in the far corner.

He sets you down gently on your feet, and his hands are already reaching for the hem of your shirt, and you readily lift your arms so he can pull it cleanly off your body. You’re reaching for his belt, and he’s pulling his own shirt over his head. Your lips eagerly seek each other as much as they can. You push his dark jeans down, and he huffs and sits down at the foot of the bed so he can hastily unlace and yank his boots off, so he can shuck his pants off all the way. When he raises his head, you stand before him in nothing but your simple underwear, one hand pressed against your torso, biting your lip.

You’re so damn beautiful to him, his heart aches again at the sight of you nearly naked before him again after so long torn apart.

He reaches for you, and though you don’t hesitate to take his hand, as he tugs you into his lap, your thighs straddling either side of his hips, he doesn’t miss the slight tremble of your body, and it kills him but there’s a deep part of him that resonates, recognizes the feeling. The separation had been hell on an alpha and omega level, and this is still too much, overwhelming, and altogether not nearly enough to soothe the deep loneliness he had pushed beneath the surface. His arms wrap around you again. While your left arm wraps around his neck, your right hand roams over his bare skin – shoulder, arms, chest, neck, face – questing to rememorize him.

He wants to be inside you, but having your chest pressed into to his chest, it’s like your heartbeats are syncing back together, and he almost needs this more. The side of your face rests against his, and the way he can hear you breathe in and out right next to his ear, can feel the warmth of every exhale, it’s yet another inimitable balm he didn’t know he longed for.

He murmurs your name softly against your shoulder.

“Mmm?”

He knows you can tell he’s working out something to say. Every season you two had been together had been time you had worked to only continually knit your souls more tightly to each other, not only to love each other more, but to understand each other, to work together, to support and lean into each other as true partners.

It had made the separation all the more painful.

He squeezes you more tightly for a moment, then inhales to speak. “I need to tell you why I put up the walls I did.”

He feels you tense slightly in his arms – of course he does, there’s no way for him to miss it any more than there was any chance for you to try and hide it when this intimately entwined. He bestows a soft, light kiss to your bonding mark, and you whimper, but turn your head to brush your lips over his cheek, and then both of you draw back just enough to look at each other.

“I’ll never know if it was the right or wrong thing to do to you, but it felt like the only way I could hope to survive navigating back to you. Immediately I knew I couldn’t allow the anguish of pain and anger I was feeling to flood to you when I knew you were living your own nightmare. When I held that back, the way Hydra had conditioned me to repress all feelings when I was their fist resurfaced, and I knew shelving the emotions would leave me to focus and be more effective in everything I was doing to track you and find you.”

“Bucky,” you start, but he shakes his head slightly, his eyes pleading for you to let him continue. You give a little huff. “Okay.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, and he pecks your lips before going on. “When I was closing in on where they were keeping you, I didn’t want to alert you and have you have to worry about how to hide that.”

“That’s a fair strategic tactic,” you grudgingly admit.

He grins at your tone, but it abates quickly. “I also…”

He pauses for half a beat and takes a breath to steel his resolve because you deserve his raw honesty as it’s still a concern in play.

“Also what?”

“I didn’t know how much of our bond he would feel. I didn’t want to tip him off, but I – I didn’t want to feel what might go the other way and bleed from him through you either.”

“Oh, Buck,” you bury your head into the crook of his neck now, nuzzling against the bonding mark you’d given him. “Our bond is ours, not his.”

“It’s not?”

“No, no,” you press quick successive kisses against your bonding mark on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “You might feel the wake of what I feel from his bond to me, but the ties to each of you are very distinct within me. I’m especially sure of it now that ours isn’t dormant anymore.”

He holds you close while he sorts through this revelation from you. “I didn’t know – and I was worried if I felt him it would either devastate or enrage me and either way make me overrule logic and slip up, do something rash.”

“Now I understand,” you speak right into his ear. “Concentrate though, what do you feel right now?”

He breathes in. Breathes out. Another breath in. Out.

“Only you,” he says, no question.

Your lips drift back down his neck, and you press an insistent kiss to your claim on him this time, then you open your lips and suck over the spot.

Bucky shivers and groans, and you wince and laugh when his arms flex around you so tightly it actually hurts. Because he reacts so strongly, it doesn’t shock him in the slightest that you’re spurred on to seek more, but now he’s ready, so when you’ve satisfied with your initial torment and he feels you slot your teeth over the mark, he bares his neck, ready when you bite down to renew your claim on him, and he shouts – euphoric, flooded and overwhelmed with the way everything opens in such a raw way when a bonding mark is refreshed.

It drives you to rock your hips against him. You’re both still in those last pieces of underwear, but the friction of your cunt against his cock is glorious, and he can’t help the satisfied rumble in his chest in answer to the simple action.

His hand clamps on your plump, round ass, and he pushes you hard against him and holds you there – he doesn’t want the rocking, for a moment he just wants the intense pressure, the reality that you’re here with him.

You crash your lips to his desperately. He slants his head and works his tongue along the seam of your mouth, which willingly parts for him, an open moan passing between you both, your tongue inviting him into your mouth, stroking against his. Both of you fiercely hold onto each other, keeping that close chest to chest contact while you kiss more than you breathe. When you ultimately have to break off from each other to get air back in your lungs, the heaving expansion of your ribcages against each other is such a simple but intense intimacy, breaths mingling – another moment that adds to the replenishment for how much his soul had been depleted without you.

“Need you inside me,” you plead.

He nods while turning and tossing you onto the bed.

As he climbs up to join you, you quip, “No more clothes, Alpha.”

“Bossy Omega,” he chuckles, but complies in pushing his boxer briefs down and tossing them away.

You quirk your lips. “Give me what I need, and I won’t need to be so demanding.”

He growls, but it’s teasing, the feeling in his heart is a light one, a feeling he feels echoed in you, lines of it running through the overwhelming need.

Bucky moves up the bed, hooks his fingers beneath the band of your underwear, and you lift your hips so he can remove them immediately. He leans down and presses a broad flat lick of his tongue over your hip bone, causing you to squirm – desire and a sensitive spot of skin he discovered on your years ago. “I know what you need, Omega.”

“Yes, Alpha,” you nod eagerly, and he flips you over onto your stomach

He hears your breath hitch. He knows you love roughness and to be handled as often as you love softness, but the latter isn’t what you need right now. He crawls up over you and plants his left arm up by your shoulder while he slots himself between your legs. Your left hand finds his, twining your fingers together while he lines up his cock with your slick entrance, and the sigh of ecstasy that escapes you as he pushes his length in sings in his ears. The feeling of your warm channel gripping him is better than he remembered – or at least it feels that way – and he tries to push in as slowly as he can to savor coming home to where he belongs inside you, but it’s not nearly as slow as he wants it to be.

Once he’s fully sheathed in you, he kisses your shoulder, then nips along until he’s at the juncture of your neck, and you keen and bare your neck to him. He licks over his bonding mark, then bites down, reclaiming you, and you cry out, body thrumming beneath him. He starts to move behind you, pulling his hips back before thrusting back in. Your right leg hitches back to tangle up and over his, urging him on. He grips your hip, and then he fucks you. It’s the most primal it’s ever felt with you, the force of it rocking the bed to knock against the wall, and he almost worries about whether or not it’s too much, but you rock back against him, meeting his thrusts as much as you can in your prone position, eagerly taking all of him.

“That’s it, darling, take my hard cock inside you,” he urges you both on.

You sob out a breathless, “Yes,” that makes his chest rumble in satisfaction.

He can feel your cunt fluttering around him, can feel you on the edge of ecstasy, but it also feels like you’re refusing to fall over the edge.

“Come on, darling, let go.”

“No.”

That shocks him but doesn’t slow him down.

He maintains his pace and slips his hand down between you and the mattress, cupping your pussy and finding your clit. “Yes.” He starts to rub quick, concentrated circles over your tight bundle of nerves.

You shake your head desperately. “No, I don’t want it to end,” the words tumble out, and he hears the sound of you crying again.

“Omega, I will give you more. I’ll give you as much as you need, but I need you to give in to this, surrender and fall over the edge with me again.”

“Bucky!” you cry out as you’re unreservedly flung over the edge. Your cunt clamping down on him was the last of what he needed to reach his own climax, and so his shout echoes your own, and he exerts those final thrusts to pump his seed deep within you.

He stays sheathed within you but rolls both of you to your sides, brackets his arm around your waist, and keeps you close, nuzzling into your neck. You sink back against him, resting your arm over his and threading your fingers together.

“That was…”

He nudges your chin for you to turn your head back so he can kiss away the tears that escaped during the emotions that came through there at that end.

“Intense?”

“Yes.”

“We both needed it, Omega. I need you as much as you need me. Do not doubt it.” You shiver in his arms, and he swears, “I’ll make sure you never question it again.”

“Never let me go.”

“Never again.”

You shift and turn over to face him. He’s just as content to wrap you in his arms this way. You tangle your legs with his as you have so many times before. This is so familiar.

You brush your fingers over his face, retracing the lines and angles that define him, and he watches your face as your eyes drink in his features.

“I’m yours, Omega,” he says in a quiet, low tone.

A soft smile lifts the curve of your mouth. Your hand cradles his jaw and beckons him in to kiss you, and he is happy to acquiesce. The kisses he shares with you now are slow, solemn promises of lips and tongues, heated but not demanding.

When you eventually come up for air, you tuck yourself more closely into his chest, humming with contentment. He’s half hard again, and the frantic last moments of the sex he shared with you flashes back to the forefront of his mind. “I promised to give you more. What do you need from me? Tell me how I can please you, how I can love you.”

You reach up and press your fingers delicately against his bonding mark. “Just this. Hold me. I only need to be with you.”

He can feel how true it is as your fingers stroke lightly over the place where you claimed him all those years ago, reclaimed him here in this bed, flooding him with more peace. His brushes his lips over your forehead. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

There’s a little chirp that bubbles up out of you when he calls you sweetheart again, and it makes him just as happy as it does you. He slowly caresses your back, hand moving up and down, up and down, in a soothing motion, soothing himself as much as you.

There is still so much ahead for you both, but this – your connection to each other – he can feel that again so strongly. He never doubted it, but after being deprived, the return of how powerful it is engulfs him. This will anchor him through what’s coming.

“Buck?” you murmur against his neck.

“Mmm?”

“I can tell your brain is beginning to work away from here.”

He sighs. “Can you blame me?”

“No, but talk to me, take me with you if you’re going to think.”

“There’s so much to think through.”

“Start with one thing.”

You’ve done this with him before – late nights, afternoons, mornings, on a drive, on a walk, sharing a meal – you could always feel when he started to get tied up in his brain with his thoughts, and you’d listen, ask questions, sift through with him. He was perfectly capable of sorting through things on his own, but sharing with you made it altogether different. It was one of the best parts of having you as his mate.

“Why…?” He frowns and trails off. “No, nevermind.”

“No, Buck. I worked hard to soothe and relax my alpha. I want this gift of respite with you, however brief it is, and whatever string you don’t want to tug on first clearly is one that’s important.”

He nips your shoulder. “My gutsy omega.”

“Alpha,” you press, also literally pressing a finger insistently against his chest.

“Alright…” His tone turns serious. “Why didn’t you try to escape – especially here where he leaves you alone sometimes?” From the way he’d found you, it was clear this wasn’t an anomaly.

You cluck your tongue impatiently and roll your eyes. “First, how was I reasonably supposed to outrun him, hide from him, and try to find you? I don’t have any of the tactical skills or training you two do.”

“Fair enough. And second?” The first point is obvious now that he’s asked it and heard you answer, but he wants to hear the rest of what you have to say.

“Second,” you continue, your tone altering to something more somber, “he took me to lure you to him, so the most logical thing was to stay and wait for you.”

“Ah,” Bucky nods, the smallest of smiles taking over his mouth. “My smart omega.”

“And third,” you continue, though your words tone is cautious now, and you drop your eyes to his chest.

“Yes?” he urges you to finish the thought.

“He’s my alpha, too.”

This isn’t news – he’s known it from the second he witnessed that bite to claim you, he thought of it frequently while he was hunting for you both, he knew it would be the new reality, you’d even discussed the two bonds together in this bed – and yet having to think about it yet again in this light is still straining on him.

Clearly you feel his unrest, because your hands come up to cup his face and basically attempt to soothe him with gentle but insistent strokes along his jaw. “Bucky, I’m always going to be yours.”

He sighs and angles his head down to touch his forehead to yours. “I know.”

And it’s not jealousy that drives his unrest – it’s the not knowing what this means, not right now and not for the future. He’s started thinking about possibilities, but he’s limited until he can confront the other alpha. So, he decides to concentrate on what it has meant so far.

He makes sure his tone is soft but serious when he asks, “Did he hurt you?”

You’re quiet for a beat, then say, “I don’t know how to answer that.”

Bucky starts to sit up, but you pull him back down to the mattress, trying earnestly to soothe him. “What he did hurt us both, and it was meant to hurt. It was absolutely calculated. But they broke him, Bucky. They tortured him and tried to make him comply for weeks. They were experimenting on Sam, trying to pull the science they could from old records on you and what they could pull from analyzing Steve’s blood, but they weren’t having success, and so they enacted their last use for Sam – and they killed him in front of Steve. It destroyed him.”

Bucky’s own chest aches as he listens, throbbing painfully at this reveal, and his vibranium hand fists the sheet.

“And when he was at his most devastated and spent emotionally, what I have been able to piece together is that that’s when he couldn’t stand to feel anymore, shut off his emotions – or his humanity more like, and it’s his humanity that made him Steve. That’s when they were able to take over and mold him into the fist they wanted in Captain Hydra.”

Hurt, anger, the horror of his own past life as the Winter Soldier, it’s surging through his veins, but you continue.

“So that night in Wakanda? That was Captain Hydra at his height of cruelty. I haven’t seen that iteration of him since that night. It’s been slow, but he’s different now. He’s not our Steve, but he’s not Captain Hydra.”

It’s a few moments before he registers that you’re done – at least with that piece of sharing.

He cups your jaw and looks into your eyes. “Do you trust him?”

He sees you clearly put thought into your words before answering, worrying your bottom lip. “The heat he and I shared was intense in every way. It changed things fundamentally between us, but since the heat our connection has still been very tenuous. We’ve both been very guarded with each other. I know he’ll keep me safe, but I’m still wary of him.”

He nods.

“Where is he right now?”

A wry laugh tumbles out of your chest. “I don’t even know where we are right now, Bucky. I know we got off a train in Bordeaux, but then he moved us here while I was in one of my heavy end of heat sleeps. From the food, books, and supplies he’s brought for us, I know we’re in France, but that’s it. There’s not a lick of technology kept in here while I’m alone. We don’t even a radio.”

Bucky grunts at this news. He doesn’t like this, but other than being kept here cut off from the rest of the world and having claimed you and separated you in the first place, it seems you’ve been appropriately cared for.

“Wait, no radio?” He growls. Bucky had looked away to consider the new information, but his eyes snap to you again. “Have you had any music?”

“No,” you groan, and he can feel the pained irritation.

“That won’t do.”

He quickly rolls off the bed to a small whine of protest from you, but it was so rare that he’d ever been in a space with you and there hadn’t been music playing – loud for you to sing, or low in the background keeping you company – and this is something he can fix easily.

He fishes the small communications device he had put together out of the pocket of his discarded pants, then comes back to sit on the foot of the bed and begins typing away. You’re quick to crawl up behind him, and you wrap your arms around his chest and settle your chin on his shoulder while he works. You don’t see the smile that breaks across his face as he feels your excited impatience radiate off you, having figured out what he’s doing. It’s so palpable he wouldn’t have needed your emotional bond as alpha and omega to sense it.

Once he’s modified his device to play music, it doesn’t take him much longer to hack into your music account. He pulls up the list of your most-played songs, picks one that he thinks will be perfect for this moment, and hits play.

You croon with joy and then fall back on the bed, arms spread out in pure rapture. He beams and then crawls up next to you, handing you the device. You hold it close to your chest with one hand and pull him in for a kiss with the other.

You break off the kiss so you can sing along to the chorus, and he laughs. He knows exactly the last time he felt this happy: the last day by the river with you in Wakanda. When the chorus is over, you actually kick your feet in delight, grinning at him. You kiss his nose, scoot your body as close to him as possible, then settle back into the mattress and pull his arm to rest over your stomach.

The two of you talk, sing, and continue to hold each other for a while. A string of two or three softer songs play, and you and up drifting into sleep, late afternoon sun pouring over both of you, its warmth too much for you to ignore after the physically and emotionally exhausting afternoon. He watches the rise and fall of your chest, his hand over your heart, no thought for time. He doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to take his eyes off you. How did he survive without you for all those weeks?

A flare of light across the room pulls his focus though. It’s a repetitive flashing coming through the window to the wall.

Morse code. His blissful mood evaporates.

C-O-M-E O-U-T-S-I-D-E

The other alpha is out there, summoning him.

He identifies which window the light is being directed into, then pads over, and releases the drape to cover the window, pulls it back, covers it again, and then secures it back in its open state. The other alpha will know he’s received the message.

Bucky has referred to him as the other alpha for so long now, but he’s ultimately about to discover who this man is. You say he’s no longer The Captain Hydra that he was, but not yet his Steve either.

He doesn’t hurry getting dressed. The other alpha isn’t going anywhere. He’s waited this long. He can continue to wait.

Bucky takes a long look at you from across the room before he leaves.

He’s relatively sure he will come back to you. There’s only one outcome that will keep him away, and now that he knows the potential danger, he won’t let this man ambush him ever again.

Bucky stalks as carefully to the tree line where the signal had come from as he had when he’d first approached the little house. He can smell the other alpha on the breeze that rustles through the trees. He tracks him in a kilometer or so – not in the direction Bucky had left his vehicle, but that works fine for him because if he needs to cut and run, he’ll be able to get to you in the house and then continue on to get to the getaway without having to double back and without the other alpha being able to cut off the route.

Bucky will think through every possible scenario as each moment of this unfolds.

His brain got him here.

His brain can get him out.

He will keep you safe.

The scent he’s known nearly his whole life grows stronger, and when he reaches a small pocket of the forest devoid of trees – not quite large enough to be called a clearing – instead of slipping silently out of the shadows, the other alpha steps out unabashedly to meet him.

“What took you so long, Buck?” he has the gall to ask, his voice barely covering notes of anger.

Bucky roars and hurls himself at the man standing before him, taking him to the ground easily, and they scramble against each other. They’re so closely matched in skill, prowess, and power, and the energy they’re both exuding is raw, primal, and angry. Bucky is incredulous that the other man is angry with him.

His own rage lands him a punch. He takes a blow to the ribs, and the other alpha gets a hand on the collar of his shirt, resulting in a tear, but it allows Bucky to grab his wrist, twist him around harshly, and pin the arm behind his back as he decisively thumps him into the ground, pinning him there.

The man beneath him only makes two attempts to struggle and shift out from under his hold, but then he sighs and sags into the tall grass they’ve been tussling in.

Is he feinting?

Bucky honestly doesn’t know.

“Who am I talking to?” he asks – the same line of inquiry Steve used on him in an abandoned warehouse outside of Berlin.

He knows it, letting out a guffaw beneath him. “I’m not him anymore.”

“Not who?”

“I’m no longer their Captain Hydra,” he pauses before adding, “but I’m not the kid from Brooklyn either.”

Bucky knows they’re not going to stay like this forever, and he needs to see this man’s face and look into his eyes if he’s going to be able to sort out any of this, so as swiftly as he can, he releases the alpha, pushes himself up, and takes a wary stance a few meters away.

Steve remains on the ground, but rolls over and sits up, planting his feet on the ground, and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. It’s almost a casual.

Bucky will have the advantage of already being up on his feet if the man before him tries anything.

Bucky needs to know how to read whoever this is, so he decides to go with a different line of questioning – things that are more cut and dry.

“When you left the base in Geneva, there were two Hydra security with you. You stopped over a bridge two hours into your journey, and they weren’t with you when you switched vehicles in Albstadt. Who were they, and why the elaborate ruse only to drop them in a river so quickly?”

Rather than being surprised, it seemed he was satisfied that Bucky knew this much about what had played out. “Alright, we can start there. Leaving under the initial guise of a mission on security footage was supposed to be helpful when they started looking for me.”

“And why move the records of their transfer files to other facilities with two others?”

“I’m glad you picked up on that, too. Buying more time for some missing personnel before it was suspect and they figured out they really didn’t know where they were.”

“And why them?”

“Arbitrary.”

“Bullshit. You’ve gone on solo missions as Captain Hydra and you didn’t buy enough extra time by leaving with a two-man team to make it worth the set up only to drop them in the river without a reason.”

Steve’s brows knit together, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before answering. “One was arbitrary. He just happened to be the roommate of my target. The one I was after? He was part of the extraction team who took our omega out of Turin. Specifically, he’s the one who handled her so roughly she had bruises from his casual brute strength. I watched the footage to figure out who hurt her.”

Bucky cocked his head and studied the man before him.

“I had only been an alpha to her for a month and I was willing to kill someone who harmed her. What are you going to do to me, Buck?”

Bucky turned and paced way, running his hands through his hair. He didn’t want to show this much unrest in front of the other alpha, but he was thinking and feeling so much, trying to read and decipher too many pieces.

He lets out a long exhale and just speaks the truth. He can’t try and take any other angle. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Before all of this, if there had ever been a situation in which Bucky would have needed to trust someone else to keep you safe, Steve would have been his immediate answer.

Steve waits silently.

There are so many questions he wants answers to, and so he starts asking them. The answers don’t shock him, and he can see that even when Steve doesn’t tell him the full truth, it’s a cautious guarding of information, but he detects no lies in any of it. That Steve has some guards up also seems tenuous, possibly temporary, like if he can only ask the right question, the tide will turn.

But it couldn’t be that simple with Steve, could it?

And when did he start to think of him as Steve again?

Bucky deals out one of the questions he’s had the longest, since the very beginning of this. “What you said that night in Wakanda – you did all of this to draw me out. Why?”

Steve lets it hang in the air for a moment, but Bucky can see this is a crux for this conversation with him, too.

“I can’t explain everything that went into that plan – I don’t know if the machine of Captain Hydra was fully in control or if part of the old me was trying to grasp at you as a lifeline, but as the weeks wore on, the strategist in me knew he needed either the Soldat to join him or his best friend to save him.”

Those words sink into Bucky, and he can understand that explanation as no one else in this world can.

“What took you so long?” Steve asks again, but this time it’s tinged only with angst, not anger.

The accusation in it unsettles Bucky.

He’s still not sure how to address the question, but he starts with, “The Soldat is gone. The Winter Soldier? Not who I needed to be to get here either.”

Steve pushes up from the ground but maintains the distance Bucky put between them. “Who are you now then?”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “Depends on who’s standing in front of me.”

Steve looks off into the trees for a moment – in the direction of the cottage.

Bucky’s instincts have failed him less than a handful of times.

They’re telling him now that’s where to start, even though he’s not sure exactly where it will end. “I’ve seen a lot of versions of you – my childhood best friend, the punk who couldn’t stay out of trouble, the stars and stripes symbol, Captain America, the target who wouldn’t let me assassinate him and then refused to finish me off in the hellicarrier, the Cap who went against the Accords, Nomad in exile – but always Steve. You’ll never be who you were before – I never was. Doesn’t mean you’re irredeemable.”

Steve scoffs. “It’s not that easy.”

Bucky gives a wry laugh and shakes his head. “I more than know that. But you’re shades of all those men right now in front of me. She sees it, too.”

“God, she…” Steve shakes his head, puts one hand on his hip, and scrubs over his face with the other.

“If you can be you, if you can be Steve, she will have you.” He’s not sure where the words came from, but he himself believes them as he says them.

“I don’t know if I can be.”

“Do you want to be?”

Steve doesn’t answer immediately. Bucky can see him sincerely work over the question in his mind. It’s a simple inquiry, but one that will define everything, and Bucky knows he will be completely behind whatever answer he gives because that is the core of who this man is and always has been – fully committed to his convictions.

When Steve says, “Yes,” Bucky can hear the heaviness in his voice. Bucky nods.

“What about you?” Steve asks.

Bucky shifts his weight from one foot to the other as he digs back into himself and where his head, his heart, and his gut now sit with all of this. But the answer is clear enough. “Till the end of the line,” he answers.

“Even after I–“

“Stop,” Bucky cuts him off. “I’ve had little more to think about over the last six weeks than us – all of us. And it felt like my heart started beating again when I found her, but you… Before this I never fully understood why you fought so hard to get through to me when I was trying to kill you in DC all those years ago, why you searched for me for years, why you were a goddamn pain in the ass who wouldn’t abandon me in Berlin and believed in me without question, but now I get it. We are in each other’s bones.”

He doesn’t move, but Bucky sees the look change in Steve’s eyes, and he can practically feel the air alter between them. They’ve always had an acute awareness of each other, and Bucky can feel the tentative return of it, like déjà vu even though he’s still figuring out who this Steve is or who he will be.

“When did you start giving Captain America speeches?” Steve finally asks.

Bucky shrugs. “One of us had to do it.”

“What now then?”

Bucky has sketched out many scenarios for how things play out from here, but every stage of this, every new revelation shifts the direction they’re heading. Even in the last two minutes things have significantly shifted again.

Bucky licks his lips and stares at Steve for another beat before he decides to head down a path he hopes is the right one. “You’re always a man with a plan, so you tell me. Tell me where this started, when it changed, where you think it ends. I figured out a lot, I have theories, and I still have questions.”

“We went to Italy to investigate a lead that came up on our radar. We thought it was an innocuous enough whisper about a couple of Hydra scientists. And don’t,“ Steve pauses to pointedly look at him because Bucky was already opening his mouth to argue. “I already know you’re going to say we should have involved you, I thought of it every day they were holding us captive. I thought it the second I heard their boots. It was a week after you left for Wakanda, and Sam–“

He pauses again, and his shoulders fall just a fraction.

“Sam and I weren’t gonna bother you.”

“She told me about Sam,” Bucky says.

Steve closes his eyes for a moment, pressing his lips together. “I told her enough about what happened, but I didn’t tell her everything.” He opens his eyes and meets Bucky’s again. His face is truly haunted, and Bucky nods, his own chest tight. He knows more than enough about that. He had still had to face the demons of his past, but when he was ready, and he had fought to find his way to do that. Steve would find a way, but it would take time, and not likely be the same journey.

“After they killed Sam, they got a raw version of me, shut down, and they went to work conditioning me, shaping me into Captain Hydra. I was too lost to fight anything. I couldn’t save him. I failed us. I didn’t want to be me. It was easy too easy for them to get the version of me they wanted when I was like that.”

There’s a full shift in how Steve lays everything out – and as he shares, Bucky knows it’s still not everything, but he can feel that it’s everything Steve can bear to tell him.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Steve tilts his head and looks off into the forest. “It was and it wasn’t. It will always haunt me.”

“It will, but less and less.”

Bucky walks to the edge of the small clearing and sits on a fallen log. Steve follows him.

“When I was trying to find you after DC and taking down S.H.I.E.L.D. I read everything they had on record about you, how they conditioned you. They used some but not all the same methods on me.”

“I couldn’t find anything on you, and I found more than enough other hidden monstrosities in their networks these past weeks.”

“I think they got smarter after we were hunting them after exposing them – they couldn’t keep everything off the databases, but they have projects now that they keep paper-only, small teams. There was the team that captured us, but after they put us in a holding cell, we were transferred. From that point through the torture, the breaking point, and the conditioning I only saw four faces – three scientists and one officer who became my liaison. When they sent or let me out into the field, I never went with a team of more than four of their men, always the same four. Two of them I ended at that bridge.”

Bucky nods.

Already his mind is calculating – this means they could potentially contain and eliminate all of the people who knew any specifics about Captain Hydra.

“One of the scientists was killed when you stormed the facility in Turin.”

Bucky raises his brows. Even better.

Steve goes on to tell him about how he was sent on a few missions to test his loyalty before he was given the task to bring back the Soldat.

“I didn’t have a chair, and they were very adamant that my point person was my liaison and not a handler, they gave me a fair amount of autonomy. They didn’t want me to drag you in. They wanted you to join me. I think they felt like an asset who had to be controlled could break free as they saw with you the first time around, and this time they wanted operatives who weren’t giving controlled compliance, but allegiance instead.”

Bucky grunted. “A tether rather than a leash.”

“Yeah.”

“But you knew who I was tethered to.”

Steve’s head drops. “Yeah.”

“And you knew I’d be the most vulnerable and off my guard in Wakanda.”

“I did.”

Bucky lets him sit with that discomfort.

Bucky has replayed that night in his mind so many times.

“But your plan changed that night. I didn’t register it in the moment, but everything about you changed the moment you bit into her neck to claim her.”

Steve doesn’t deny it.

“Before you sunk your teeth into her, you were taunting me, dangling her like something to be smashed and discarded, you didn’t even know if it would work, and I think part of you thought it might even kill her.”

Bucky sees Steve’s jaw tick.

“You were in no way prepared for how a bond would change you fundamentally as an alpha.”

“Obviously it didn’t flip a switch immediately, but yes, it altered what I intended to do,” Steve admits.

He goes on to explain some of the things that happened in Turin – missions he went on, how things had developed with you, the clothes, and the books.

“The books were for her?” Bucky breathes. “I saw security footage of you in the bookshop.”

“I wasn’t worried about exposing myself because you were already taking longer than I wanted you to take, but when you didn’t access any of the Avenger networks, bases, or safehouses, I expected you were underground and untraceably hunting for us.”

“What else did you expect?”

“I wanted you to get foolish in your desperation and tip your hand.”

“Not with her on the line.”

“No.” Steve narrows his eyes. “You never left Turin once you showed up on our radar, did you?”

Bucky scoffs. “Course I didn’t.”

Steve nods. “A ploy to see all the defenses of the base.”

“But you left dangerously close to her heat,” Bucky shoots, the disapproving accusation blatant in his tone.

“And that’s when you made your unsuccessful move to get her back. If you’d killed everyone you’d encountered from the beginning, you probably would have made it to her in time.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“No, I know you do.” Steve sighs. “You know, back in 1945, I thought you were dead when you fell off that train.”

Bucky doesn’t interrupt. He knew Steve knew he knew this. They’d touched on it before. But clearly there was more and a reason for Steve to bring it up again now.

“The thing is, when they found you, I know Zola did what he did to you because of me, your tie to me. When they took me and Sam, they tortured him and killed him because of me, again. You were both people I cared about, and you were hurt for it. I was not going to let it happen to her. The sense of responsibility I felt for her had already been growing and evolving, but when I felt that surge of adrenaline and fear through the bond when you attacked the base and they moved her? It had been a slow melting of ice, what was developing there, but that shattered the ice. When I found out they had moved her, I kept my personal weakness guarded, and I knew I would do everything I could to get her out of their web and keep her safe.”

At this admission, Bucky is quiet. So is Steve. Bucky knows Steve is letting him think. There’s so much to consider there – the guilt Steve has still carried for him for years, the fresh hell of Sam, and the fervent determination to keep you from being another victim by association.

He could think over this for much longer, but there are more pieces he still needs context for, so next Bucky asks, “Why did you leave the Geneva facility during her heat?”

“Best cover for time – alphas are given room to take care of their needs during rut or care for omegas if they’re bonded during their omega’s heat.”

It verifies what Bucky had theorized himself.

“But it’s been eight days since you came here.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods.

“And you’ve just…been here.”

“Yeah.”

This is the piece Bucky has been suspicious of now.

“Explain.”

“When I took her to Turin, yes, it was a trap to lure you. When I brought her here, it was to wait for you to find us. I couldn’t find you when you went underground before, and I couldn’t find you this time, and if I tried too hard, I didn’t want to risk Hydra finding us, but I knew if we stayd in one place and I focused on keeping us hidden from Hydra, you could find us.”

Bucky furrows his brow, frowning.

“Simple as that?”

“Simple as that,” Steve confirms.

Bucky studies him for another quiet few seconds, then says, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“So, what now?”

“Her,” Bucky replies simply. “We’ve still got a lot of shit to figure out, but we’ve got to do it with her.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Still with me? This was a lot. I hope I've answered some of your questions, and there are some more that have been brought up, but... we're here. We're this far.

This is the single longest story/chapter I've ever published. You can see where I've left off, and there's clearly more story, but Bucky reuniting with his omega and with Steve were the primary objectives, and both of those elements I didn't want to cheat or shorten as they began to unfold. I hope they've truly done justice to these characters and relationships, and we'll see how they can possibly move forward together in the conclusion. These three still have big things ahead.